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[nennuit]

✧ Manipulative best friend!Logan with a corruption kink

warnings: smut 18+, this is not a dark fic, Logan isn’t truly manipulative but we have a very naive/innocent/inexperienced reader; first time masturbation, JOI, handjob, fingering (in front of a mirror), first kiss, pet names (bub, baby, my girl, good girl), Logan doesn’t always fully ask for consent but if he did reader would want it, so those are the type of vibes, Logan takes advantage of the situation but reader is into him too, it’s implied that reader is a mutant too but powers are not specified, mentions of alcohol, reader wears Logan’s (big) shirt, Logan is a bit gross 

This kind of got out of hand lmaoo it was just supposed to just be a short concept but I ended up writing 5.5k words lolll. It’s not a fully fleshed out fic (it’s in full sentences etc but still just kind of loosely written scenes) but I thought I’d still share <33 (gorgeous divider by @anitalenia <3)

Logan knows he wants you from the moment he meets you. He knows he needs you the second you come to the mansion and join the school. But you’re so shy and nervous that he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, so he tells himself he’ll wait for a bit and let you get used to your new life here first. 

What he isn’t expecting is that you become really good friends in the meantime. Yes, he still wants to fuck you but he also genuinely enjoys your company and cares about you. Logan has a big, fat crush on you and there’s not really anything he won’t do in order to be closer to you.

But the problem is that you’re so innocent and he can’t tell if it’s an act, if you just don’t like talking about sex in front of other people, or if you’re really like this. 

He hears you talking to Storm and Jean one night and Storm is trying to convince you to get a vibrator and you’re asking “what would I need that for? I don’t… y’know”. Storm says “you don’t what? Masturbate?”.

Logan knows exactly what shy expression you’re making even though he can’t see you, and you’re all like “oh my god, don’t say it that loud”. And he knows your pretty face must be getting all hot with embarrassment and the thought alone turns Logan on to no end. It’s quiet for a bit and Logan gathers that Jean reads your mind, and she confirms to Storm that you’re not lying.  

Logan can only hear the conversation because he’s in the kitchen and you’re all in the room next to it, but some students come in so he can’t keep eavesdropping, as much as he wants to. And he knows there’s no way you’re continuing the conversation if he’s in the room, so he has to give up for the night. He tries to ask Storm the next day about what you said and she just calls him a pervert and says to ask you himself if he wants to know so badly. 

But that’s kind of the thing. He’s become your best friend over the last few months, but there are still some things you’d never tell him just because he’s a guy, even if you don’t see him as more than a friend. Yet.

And Logan only gets more desperate when you’re drunk one evening after a girl’s night and you’re knocking at his door. It’s really late but Logan lets you in of course. You’re crying a bit and he makes you sit in his bed and takes off your shoes and slides off your jacket while you hiccup something unintelligible. 

He sits down with you and you can barely focus on what you’re saying, and then you get up mumbling about your uncomfortable tights and your skirt and suddenly you’re in front of him in just a top and panties. Logan has to gulp down a moan as he stares at the flesh of your thighs and the rolls on your belly and all he can think about is devouring you whole – until he hears you mention the conversation with Storm and Jean from the other day, “wait, what was that?”

You pout, “Well I was talking to them and turns out apparently I’m the only woman in the world that doesn’t masturbate and– and Jean went home to Scott, and Storm went home with someone she met at the bar and I’ve never even done anything with a guy, not even with myself. I just feel left behind.”

And Logan tells you something about how you’re just a late bloomer and there’s still time, because that’s what he thinks you want to hear, but you tell him it’s condescending. You don’t want to be a late bloomer, you just want to have sex. And oh– Logan can help you with that.

He has to do his absolute best to keep calm and not mount you immediately, but you’re drunk so that’s what’s stopping him. He might manipulate you a little to get what he wants but he’s not that bad. He asks “you don’t like touching yourself?” And you just shrug and say “dunno”. 

“You never feel an ache between your legs?” Logan asks, keeping so calm it’s painful. And he can practically feel the heat melting off your face at the question as your eyes dart around the room, “I don’t know, sometimes”.

 “And you don’t touch yourself?”

You shrug again, looking everywhere but at Logan, “I never really know what people mean when they say that. I, like, touch myself and it feels nice but that’s it.” 

Logan smiles, “how long do you touch yourself for?” 

“I don’t know, a few seconds.”

And he chuckles and says “it’s normal that you don’t get anywhere in a few seconds, bub.” 

“Oh. I didn’t know that,” you manage to meet his eyes briefly but look away again as you sit on your hands shyly.

“You ever watched porn?” Logan asks and your eyes go wide as if he’s just committed the worst sin known to womankind in front of you and you hug your legs and say “noo, I would never. I’m not, like, a pervert.”

Logan laughs, “Porn isn’t just for perverts. There’s more to it than choking and bondage, there’s tame stuff.” You just say “well I’ve never watched any.” 

“Maybe you should.”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” 

He can tell you’re getting a bit ashamed and while he would love to train that shame out of you when it comes to sex, now isn’t the time when you’re drunk in his bed at 2AM. 

“You wanna go to sleep?” He asks, failing to resist giving a small squeeze to your knee. Your eyes fly to his hand there, gaze lingering on his fingers even as he pulls them away. You nod after a few moments, and Logan reaches out to wipe away the remnants of your tears and says “you wanna sleep in my bed? We could cuddle”. 

You grin like a child who’s just tried ice cream for the first time at his suggestion and he gives you a bigger shirt of his so you don’t have to sleep in that small, tight top you’re wearing. You pull off your top without warning and then he’s looking at you in just your underwear and he feels like he’s died and ascended to heaven even though he’s probably more likely to go to hell with the thoughts he’s having about you right now. 

You cast a shy glance over your shoulder as you undo your bra and Logan wills himself to shut his eyes, putting his hand over them because he knows otherwise he’d look.

He only wants to fuck you more when he sees you in his shirt though, and he’ll definitely have to go to the bathroom to jerk off once you’ve fallen asleep. Except that you snuggle against his side so cutely, head resting on his shoulder with a leg thrown over his. 

You’re fast asleep before he can even say good night and when he moves to get up you move closer, and now he’s got your plush tits pressed up against his side and your arm over his waist. A tent has formed in his pants and he feels pathetic that he’s measuring the distance between your elbow and his crotch, silently willing you to move just a few inches. 

He’s so horny that he’d feel no moral qualms at jerking off right next to you. He’d cum so quickly with you pressed to his side, but he wouldn’t know how to explain it if you woke up. He doesn’t want to scare you away. So he pulls away to get up, and you wake up and whine when he stands up, telling you he just has to pee to which you grumble, and you grab his pillow to cuddle with instead. 

He jerks off shamelessly, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His spit slicked-palm is starting to get loud as he strokes his cock to thoughts of you, but he doesn’t care if you hear. You probably wouldn’t know what he’s doing anyway with how innocent you are. 

He doesn’t even have to fantasise about any sexual scenario with you. Thinking about the pretty smile you have whenever you look at him is enough to have his fists drenched in his cum as he jerks himself off with both hands to stroke his entire length. 

He can’t hold back the small moan that spills over his lips when he cums, torn between hoping you heard and hoping you didn’t. Logan washes his hands and rejoins you in bed. 

He takes a moment before he slips under the covers, taking in the sight of you in his bed, imagining you’re his and that it’s the norm for you to sleep together rather than an exception. You stir as the mattress dips with his weight, swapping the pillow of his that was clutched between your arms for his bicep that you hold onto instead. You’re way too gone to have heard any of what he just did, and for a moment he feels dirty for thinking about you the way that he does. 

It doesn’t last long, of course, as he dreams of you most nights. He can’t feel bad about it though – he’ll take any dream over one of his nightmares (that he hasn’t had since he met you). And if he’s honest it turns him on how innocent and unsuspecting you are of what goes on in his head when he thinks of you. 

-

You wake up still wrapped around his body the next morning. You have a headache and Logan brings you something to soothe it, offering to massage your stiff neck too. You sigh in bliss as soon as Logan’s hands are on you, and he reminds himself that you must be touch-starved. You’ve never touched yourself, let alone felt the touch of another person that went beyond platonic or familial affection. 

He revels in the sounds he pulls from you with ease with the most basic massaging technique there is. He never wants to leave. He started off hovering over the back of your thighs, but he’s been making his way forwards and now his crotch is nestled right against the soft swell of your ass. You either don’t notice that he’s slowly moved or you don’t realise what exactly is pressing into your backside. 

It’s obvious that you’re enjoying his hands on the back of your neck and the top of your shoulders; he doubts there’s anything that could distract you from it. Except if he got hard maybe, but he’s got more self control since he jerked off in the bathroom again after waking up with morning wood and with you by his side, just before he brought you some painkillers. 

“You’re so good with your hands, Logan,” you tell him, voice all raspy, and he smirks at the innuendo you don’t realise you’re making. 

“It’s what my girl deserves,” he says, pulling a smile and a hum from your lips. 

“I’m your girl?” you ask shyly, eyes still closed as his knuckles drag over your skin. 

“O’course you are, bub.” He’s not sure in what way you interpret the pet name but he can tell you like it, hearing how your heartbeat speeds up just that little bit. You like being his, and he likes that. 

-

It’s during a particularly horny evening that Logan comes to your room. He’s jerked off twice today to pictures of you — pictures he’s snuck over the time he’s known you, you smiling as you laugh at a tv show, stretching on the sofa not realising that he’s got his phone out, or that one photo of you smiling all shyly on the day you first met him and he showed you around the mansion. Jean asked to take a picture to commemorate the day you joined them, and he remembers the way he slid his arm around the back of your waist and you placed your hand shyly on his back, smiling all adorably. 

He’s got a picture of you in a bikini from that one time you two went swimming but he keeps that for special occasions. Today was one of those special occasions, and he came all over his phone screen, cursing when he had to clean it afterwards; he even had to get the phone case off and all. 

But you still won’t leave his head for even just a second, so he decides it’s time for the next step. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you with anything, but he also just really wants you. Can’t help it. He’s a selfish man but any man would be if he knew you the way Logan did. He knocks at your door. “Yeah?” you call out. 

You grin when he steps in and closes the door behind himself. You stretch out your arms for a hug to greet him, even though you only saw him a few hours ago. He joins you where you’re sitting on your bed with your laptop. Logan turns the screen towards him, hoping to find something naughty but he should have known better. It’s just some video essay on a topic he’s never even heard of. He shuts the laptop. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” you tell him, genuinely focussed, “If I’m your girl then what are you to me? My boy sounds weird, and my man.. I don’t know.”

He almost forgot that he called you his girl to your face, and he smirks when he imagines you thinking about it these past few days. He lies down on his side, invading your space, almost touching you with how close he is next to you.

 “I can be anything you like, bub.” 

You shrug shyly, “Maybe you’re just my Logan.” 

He’s surprised at how much that turns him on. You being his, that’s one thing. But him being yours? Those two things go hand-in-hand, of course, but he thought you were still a long way off from liking him as much as he likes you. 

It encourages him to ask you what he’s been thinking about for days. He says it casually. “So, had any success touching yourself?” He uses that tame expression so that you’re less embarrassed.

Still, your eyes widen slightly and you immediately start playing with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. “What do you mean?” 

“You know what I mean,” he smirks, “Don’t gotta be embarrassed around me. We’ve been over this.” Although, for a second he wonders if you even remember the conversation. You were drunk after all, and he considers feeling bad, but then you smile. 

“I know, but… I haven’t tried it since. I’ve thought about it but I still don’t know what to do.” He’s got you right where he wants. 

“Y’know, I don’t mind showing you. You deserve to feel good.” 

You look away, “What would you even show me? And how? Guys are different down there.” Oh, you’re so innocent. He’s having so much fun. 

“I could touch you.” He watches you experience a multitude of emotions as you think about it. Shame, intrigue, resolve. 

“Wouldn’t that be weird for you?” 

“Not at all, don’t worry about me.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure, bub.” 

You look around you, putting your laptop and your phone on your nightstand, “What do I do?” you ask, playing with the blanket. 

“I’ll just touch you a bit, okay? Just get you used to the feeling,” he tells you, both of you sitting up and he pulls your legs around his waist, gently touching all over your inner thighs, squeezing the flesh.

You’re already arching your back, scooting closer to him, and he lifts your shirt up over your hip and sees the wet spot on your panties. He’s not sure if you notice how hard he is under his sweatpants but no one could blame him for that. You’re getting so worked up and he hasn’t even touched you anywhere near your pussy, you’re breathing so heavily and your heart is beating so fast.

“Y’want a kiss, bub?” Logan asks you all sweetly, and you lean in as soon as the words leave his mouth. Your lips on his are messy but eager, and Logan loves that he can feel that it’s your first kiss. You don’t know what you’re doing but you need it – need him. 

But he has to stop at some point because it’s getting harder to not fuck you, so he gently pulls away, and you grin shyly when the kiss is over. Logan leans in one more time for a quick kiss. He pushes you backwards a bit and looks between your spread thighs. You’re so wet. You’re squirming under his gaze.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, tugging at the waistband of your panties and your breathing gets shaky when his finger grazes your belly. You bite your lip and nod.

“Good girl,” he says, pulling your underwear down your thighs with one hand, eyes glued to your pussy. You’re so wet and sticky already, and your pussy looks even better than anything he’s imagined – and he’s imagined it a lot.

He wants nothing more than to fuck you, or eat you out at least, but he’s supposed to be showing you how to masturbate, so he lies down next to you.

“So, if you were alone, you might touch yourself like this.” He takes his hand between your thighs, softly touching your clit. You’re leaning into him, head against his shoulder as you watch his big hand between your thighs. It looks so right there. You look to your side and gaze up at Logan, and you can’t help but just kiss him again.

And while you’re kissing, Logan puts his palm on your pussy and starts rubbing you a bit rougher, and you become too distracted to keep kissing him.

“You like when I play with your clit?” he teases you and you nod, hiding your face in his neck. Logan moves down to fuck one of his fingers into you, then two, and you’re whimpering against his warm skin. With his palm still rubbing against your clit, you have your first ever orgasm with Logan and you hold onto him as the pleasure flows through your body.

He keeps going until you put your hand around his wrist to stop him and you shyly smile up at him. “Was that good, bub?” 

You answer with a weak “yeah”, your voice hoarse but you’re smiling and your skin is glowing. Logan pulls his hand away and shows you how your arousal sticks to his fingers, and your eyes search his because you’re not sure if this is a good or bad thing.

Your mouth opens when Logan takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks your taste off them. “Taste so fucking good, baby. You wanna taste yourself?” And he waits patiently until you’ve made your mind up but you nod and let him put one of his fingers into your warm, wet mouth. You suck on it for much longer than necessary and Logan tries to save the image in his brain for later.

He holds you for a bit as you comprehend that you’ve just had an orgasm for the first time in your life. You shyly thank him before he leaves and he makes you promise that you’ll try it again by yourself soon. That was the whole point of this, after all – nothing to do with Logan or anything.

-

Logan thought he’d be satisfied for a bit, but all it’s done is make him even needier for you. You’re so oblivious to all his flirting, and he’s sure you genuinely thought he just wanted to show you how to masturbate the other day. 

Of course, he could just ask you out, but it’s more fun this way. He likes watching you figure stuff out. He wonders how long it’ll take you to realise that he actually likes you, that teaching you how to jerk off maybe wasn’t only in your best interest but in his too.

He’s a bit pathetic when it comes to you at this point, though. As much as he’s teasing you, it’s also teasing him. It’s a bit of a low point, but he pretends to be in a bad mood to get your attention.

You come to his room in the late afternoon when you haven’t seen him all day, and you’re so kind and so caring and immediately worried when you see him sprawled in bed in his pyjamas that consist of grey sweatpants and a white shirt.

“You okay? What happened?” you close the door and sit on his bed immediately.

Logan fake sighs, suppressing a smile as he pouts exaggeratedly. “Nothing, bub. Don’t you worry about me.” He squeezes your knee to reassure you, and he watches you perk up at his touch.

“You know you can always talk to me,” you smile kindly, and he wants to kiss you so badly. He doesn’t usually talk about emotions and feelings all that much, but you’re always trying to get him to open up because it’s good for him, so he knows he’s got you with this.

“I’m just feeling a bit down today. That’s all. Don’t wanna bother you with my problems.”

“You’re not bothering me. I’m always here for you.”

He watches you gnawing on your lip as you think about what to say next, and Logan waits curiously. “Have you uh, jerked off today? I think an orgasm would cheer anyone up, if it feels as good as you made me feel the other day.”

And Logan’s all like “I’ve tried but it’s been so long since a woman touched me, and my own hand just isn’t doing it for me anymore.”

He gets hard immediately when you perk up, smiling with your sweet expression and saying, “I could help you! I hate seeing you so sad”.

And Logan pretends, saying “no, bub, I’d never ask that of you,” but you sit up on your knees and say “I really wouldn’t mind! And I owe you for last time anyway.”

“If you’re really sure?” 

You nod sweetly and brush your hair out of your face and ask, “where do you want me?”

And even just you asking that is something that will stay in his mind for a long time. He feels like you’d do anything he asked of you right now and it’s already driving him crazy. He says “just next to me here, bub. Yeah there is fine”. 

You lean in to kiss him and he only pulls away out of surprise, and you’re blinking back at him with wide eyes, apologising, “It’s just cause you kissed me last time, I thought— I thought it’s part of–”

“Yeah, baby, it is. Just didn’t know if you wanted to kiss me again.”

You give him a cheeky smile and nod, “of course I wanna kiss you. You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you”. 

Logan grins and bites his lip and says “me too, bub”, and leans in and kisses you again, basically attacking you with his mouth. He can tell it’s getting a little much for you with the way he’s eating you alive so he stops himself and asks “was that too much?” 

You shake your head, “just don’t know how to kiss like that yet.” And he likes that. Yet. Maybe he can sneak in some kissing lessons at some point, just to show you how it’s done of course, no other reason. 

You look down at his lap then and it’s obvious how hard he is. “Y’wanna you touch it like this first?” he asks you, grabbing himself over his sweatpants, the outline becoming clearer.

And you nod so eagerly, but get a bit shy when you’re touching his cock, one of your knees pulled up to your chest as you palm him over his sweatpants. “It’s so big,” you marvel, oblivious to how much this is affecting Logan.

“You wanna see?”

You tell him yes and he pulls the waistband down, and you lean closer when he wraps a hand around his cock, stroking himself just a few times to relieve the pressure. 

You bring a finger to his mouth like he did for you the other day, and he chuckles, “that won’t be enough, bub”. Your cheeks burn when you say “oh”.

“Here,” he moves your hand so your open palm is facing him and he spits into it.

“Now do this,” Logan tells you, taking your hand and wrapping it around his cock, guiding you up and down with your spit-slicked palm. You watch in awe as you jerk him off, his hand never leaving the back of yours.

He could cum immediately like this, but he tries to savour the feeling a bit longer.

“Does it feel good?” you ask him.

“Yeah, doing so well, bub. Think you can do it by yourself?”

You shake your head with a smile. Yes, you could do it by yourself, but you like the feeling of him guiding you, setting the pace and intensity. He grins and continues, squeezing your hand tighter so that your grip on his cock tightens too.

Logan lets you jerk him off a bit longer before he gives in. He’s proud of you for not pulling away in surprise when he cums, coating your hand and his in his cum as ropes of white shoot over your skin and onto his shirt. He lets go of your hand to pull off his shirt and watches you examine your hand full of Logan’s cum.

“Can I taste it?” you ask in a quiet voice, and Logan just about gets hard again.

“Yeah,” he tells you, but pushes his own fingers into your mouth. Your lips wrap around his two fingers and suck the cum off, and Logan can’t help but push them further into your mouth, making you giggle. You pull his hand away after a bit, only to lick your own fingers. He uses the clean part of his shirt to dry your hand off after, and you lie down to cuddle him.

“Do you feel better?”

Logan chuckles, “Yeah, bub, I feel better. Thanks.”

“Good,” you grin, proud of yourself. Logan’s proud of you too.

-

It’s still the same day when you come to his room the next time. You left after a bit to go to sleep, but now there are knocks on Logan’s door that he recognises as yours before you say anything.

You enter his room in your pyjamas – a big shirt – and some fluffy socks, a plushie under your arm. You look so oh so innocent that he almost feels bad for corrupting you. You come in, close the door, and sit on his bed again, legs dangling off the side of it. He could really get used to you being in here.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks, but you ignore him, hugging your plushie for comfort.

 “I… can you maybe…” you let out a sigh, “I tried to masturbate but I can’t do it by myself. Can you show me again?” 

Maybe you’re not so innocent anymore. He chuckles and tells you of course, and he’s starting to wonder if you’ve caught on to the game that he’s playing, and if you’ve joined him, but he’d still bet money that you really are this naive. Logan pulls his full length mirror in front of his bed, not too close, but close enough that you can see yourself in it. 

He moves to lift your shirt to get your panties off, and his heart skips a beat as he’s greeted by the sight of your bare pussy, already glistening.

“It was easier to come with them already off,” you say, and he reaaally has to restrain himself so he doesn't bend you over and take you right here.

You drop your stuffed toy to the side of Logan’s bed as he sits you in front of the mirror, getting behind you, putting his legs either side of you.

“God, you’re so pretty.” He can’t stop himself from saying it as he makes you look at yourself in the mirror, legs spread.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Logan,” you say, shying away from looking in the mirror.

“You can do it, bub. I got you, okay?”

You’ve turned around to look at him better, and he chuckles when he gets it.

“Is this what you need?” he asks as he leans in to kiss you, and you moan yes into his mouth. He loves you so fucking much.

His dick is already so hard and he’s not sure if you can feel it pressing into your ass, but either way you’re not complaining. He takes your chin to make you face yourself in the mirror, and he can’t get enough of seeing you two in it together – the way he’s sitting behind you like this, imagining other positions you two could be in.

“Here,” he pushes his finger into your mouth, even though you’re already wet enough, watching you suck on it eagerly. His finger stays in your mouth much longer than necessary.

He starts gently rubbing your clit in circles, and you squirm in his arms that are around you, one on your waist, the other between your legs.

“I did that too, but it feels better when you do it,” you mumble after a while, clearly enjoying it but unsure what you were doing wrong when you did it yourself.

“Try it.” Logan takes your hand, and makes you do it yourself. You’re squirming with him watching you like this, but it is useful to sit in front of the mirror, copying how he played with your pussy just moments ago.

Logan’s not blind to how wet you are, at having him watching and guiding you, and he can’t help it as he reaches into his boxers to jerk off. He doesn’t get his cock out but he’s not hiding it. You can see the movement of his arm in the mirror and you might even be able to feel it at your back, as Logan’s fist grazes your shirt every now and then as he strokes himself.

But you’re so focussed on looking between your own legs that Logan is genuinely not sure if you’ve noticed him jerking off, and the sounds of your wet pussy are louder than his hand on his cock.

“I… I can’t,” you whine after a bit, taking your hand away from your pussy, but Logan is close, and he wants you to cum too.

He keeps jerking off, and he sees you noticing it, sitting up a bit taller but you don’t seem to mind. You’re smiling, biting your lip.

“Yeah, you can, baby. Here, we’ll do it together.” He keeps a hand on his cock, reaching around you to put your hand back between your legs, and then he pushes two of his fingers into your pussy, fucking you with them.

“You close, bub? I’m close,” he says, and the idea of cumming together with Logan makes your pussy squeeze around his fingers, so you do your best to recreate the pattern on your clit that Logan showed you, rubbing it in circles until you get the right angle.

“Good girl, that’s it. So tight around my fingers. Come on now.” Logan’s so close he has no idea how he’s still holding off, sloppily jerking his cock with one hand and fucking your pussy with his fingers on the other hand.

You lean your head back, landing on Logan’s shoulder, as your orgasm pulses through you. Logan can feel your pussy spasming around him, and he lets go too, cumming over his hand and his boxers.

You’re both out of breath for a while after, barely moving.

“Y’did it, bub,” he kisses the top of your head, and you smile at him through the mirror, turning to press a messy kiss to the side of his face. He won’t take that though, so he grabs your face, smearing some of his cum on your cheek, and pulls you to face him for a proper kiss. You smile against his mouth as you make out.

You sleep in his room again that night, but he can’t say it feels like you know that he likes you yet. He’ll have fun watching you figure it out soon.

-

✧ reblog and let me know your thoughts for Logan to appear in your dreams tonight <3

[nennuit]

daniel is so shocked to find out they kept and psychosexually tortured him for 6 days in the 70's, like babygirl what exactly do you think they're doing to you right now 50 years later? making things burst into flame, disorienting you by extracting your painful memories, drinking blood right from the source while moaning obscenely and holding direct eye contact with you, appearing in front of you suddenly with vampiric speed, anything to make you squirm and tense and gasp, yeah sure that's just normal regular interview behavior. WAKE UP daniel they want to suck your dick i mean blood

[nennuit]

Sharing is caring

✧ Logan Howlett x reader x Peter Parker

✧ summary: Your new teammate Peter Parker has a huge crush on you, and your boyfriend Logan has always wanted to watch someone else fuck you. It’s Peter’s birthday and Logan decides to share.

✧ warnings: smut 18+, mmf threesome, oral, unprotected piv, so much cum lol, Peter is very pathetic lmao (and not very experienced) and more of a sub, Logan is dominant and reader is dom-ish for Peter but sub-ish for Logan, little bit of say gex 😋 (oral, Logan receiving), pet names (my girl, good girl/boy, baby, bub), implied age gap (Peter is the youngest – didn’t mention a specific age but early 20s-ish, reader is a few years older, Logan is obv the oldest), Peter being a nerd, lots of teaching Peter (mostly how to go down on each other), also the fic starts with smut right away lol

✧ note: idek if anyone else is interested in this character constellation and needs it as much as i do but they’re my two biggest marvel crushes (in completely different ways) so i had to!!!!! like hellooo😵‍💫 and i really love this omg

✧ word count: 7.5k oops

-

You’re on top of Logan, riding him like your life depends on it. 

Logan’s so good in bed that you usually just let him pamper you; you both like it that way. It’s also what makes the times when you’re on top even more special. Your boyfriend is struggling not to cum in you yet, fingers indenting your hips where he’s grabbing you hard. 

“You feel so fucking good, baby, such a good girl,” he groans underneath you. 

You grin as you lean down to give him a sloppy kiss, pulling away before he’s done with you so you can resume bouncing up and down in his lap.

Logan slides his hand between your legs, beginning to rub your clit as he feels you clenching around him tighter. 

You’re so close.

You’re so fucked out that you barely register the door to your bedroom opening. 

“Hey, do you know if– oh god, sorry!” you hear Peter’s voice, and before you can catch a glimpse of him the door shuts with a bang.

It takes a few moments for your heartbeat to calm down and for you to realise what just happened. Peter walked in on you fucking your boyfriend. Innocent, nervous, adorable Peter Parker – new recruit at the mansion. You’ve only just barely befriended your new teammate and you’re not sure your friendship can handle him catching you like this.

You look down at Logan for the first time, only to see him smiling. 

“He did that on purpose,” he chuckles, hands still resting on your hips as if he’s ready for you to start right back up. You stay on top of him with his cock nestled deep inside you, pulsing, but you can’t get yourself to focus on the pleasure of it.

“He’d never do something like that on purpose. He’s way too innocent for that. He wasn’t meant to see us like that – I bet he’s traumatised!”

Logan laughs again, “Traumatised because he’s not the one fucking you maybe, sure.”

Your mouth hangs open at Logan’s accusation – Peter sees you as a friend, nothing more! You doubt he even thinks about sex, let alone about having sex with you. 

Rising to your knees, you let Logan slip out of you, his cock slapping against his abs with a dull, wet smack, a mix of his precum and your wetness smearing over his skin.

“What? We’re stopping cause of him?” Logan grabs your hand, “He’d get what he wants.”

“Logan,” you warn, somewhat seriously. He’s making Peter out to be someone he really isn’t.

He smiles, adjusting your hips so you’re hovering over him again, jerking his cock and positioning the tip at your entrance. You smile down at him – it’s hard to resist when he looks so good and your pussy is still wet and not yet satisfied.

“Peter did that on purpose, bub,” he repeats, breath becoming laboured as you sink down on him, “You’re not telling me you’ve been oblivious to his crush on you all this time, right?” 

You involuntarily clench your pussy around him, closing your eyes so you don’t have to face looking at him after that. But Logan’s smirking – you don’t have to open your eyes to know that; you can practically hear it. He jerks his hips under you, starting to fuck into you from below.

“Y’like that, baby? Spider-Man’s got a crush on my girl. You don’t know that?”

It almost feels like you’re cumming with how much wetter you get at his words, and you manage to open your eyes to climb off him properly this time, lying down next to him, burying your face into the pillow to hide.

“Noo,” you squeal, though it comes out muffled.

Logan slaps your ass, keeping his hand there to grab your flesh, “Uh-uh, baby. You can’t squeeze around my cock like that and then run away.”

You giggle, leaning up to look at him, “That was just because I was sitting on your big dick. It had nothing to do with Peter.”

“Suure, bub, sure. Can I keep fucking you then?”

You nod, scooting closer to him, both of you on your side. Logan hikes your leg over his hip and slowly thrusts into you as your limbs tangle together. He spits on his hand to rub your clit messily, the way he knows is enough when you were already this close to an orgasm just moments earlier.

“You’re the only one I want, Logan,” you tell him in a quiet voice, distracted by how good he feels inside you as he fucks you, playing with your puffy clit.

“I know that, baby, I know that. I know you’re my girl. My perfect, pretty girl. Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy that someone else has a crush on you. Can’t expect Peter to be blind.”

You cum around his cock then, moaning into his skin as he fucks you through your orgasm, filling you with his own load seconds later.

Logan drops the topic of Peter while you cuddle afterwards, and it’s hard to keep thinking about it when you’ve got your gorgeous, beefy boyfriend next to you, your hand buried in his hair as you massage his scalp the way you know he likes.

It’s when Logan says he’s going downstairs to get you some water that you remember Peter.

“Tell him I’m sorry if you see him.”

“Sure, bub,” Logan says dismissively, kissing your knee with a teasing grin as he gets off the bed. You suppose he’s right – you have nothing to be sorry for. It’s Peter’s fault for walking in without knocking.

But you can’t help but feel bad. He’s an adult, only a few years your minor, but he seems so innocent. He likes you – you can agree with that. He admires you; that much is obvious too, but you don’t know if calling it a crush is an exaggeration. If Logan is right and Peter has a crush on you, you’re sure it’s nothing sexual.

-

Logan can sense Peter from a mile away. Peter is pacing up and down in the kitchen. Logan smiles at the floor as he enters the room.

Spider-Man’s face is flushed – whether it’s from embarrassment or arousal, Logan can’t tell. But the bulge in Peter’s sweatpants assures Logan that he was right in his assumption in the first place. He turns to the sink to pour a glass of water to take upstairs, giving Peter the time to adjust himself.

“My girl says she’s sorry,” Logan says in amusement, turning around, “Didn’t mean for you to see us like that.”

“What? I– no, I’m sorry. I should have knocked,” Peter stammers.

“That’s what I told her.”

Peter doesn’t reply, having a stare contest with the floor so that he doesn’t have to meet Logan’s eyes.

Logan chuckles, “So why’re you in the kitchen and not in your bedroom?”

Peter doesn’t miss the sexual implication. “I feel bad.”

“What, you think people don’t jerk off thinking about their crush just because that person is in a relationship? It’s just in your head, bub, you can do what you want.”

Peter looks up. It’s not that he feels bad towards Logan; he feels bad towards you. But if Logan thinks that way and you’re his girlfriend, maybe that means you share his opinion. Peter is too lost in thought to reply to Logan.

“Suit yourself,” Logan says as he leaves the kitchen. 

-

“Did you see him?” you ask Logan when he comes back.

“Yeah, said he’s sorry, he should have knocked.”

“And he didn’t seem disturbed?”

Logan laughs out loud at your question, “No, baby, don’t worry. He’s not disturbed. His only problem seemed to be how hard he was.”

Your mouth falls open, “Really?”

“Maybe he’s not as innocent as you thought after all, bub,” Logan smirks, pulling you closer.

That revelation turns you on more than you care to admit, to yourself or to Logan.

-

It’s Peter’s birthday a few weeks later and he’s happy as long as he gets to spend it with you. 

He’s not expecting you to get him anything, but you get him a Lego set that he’s been wanting for months. It’s something he’s mentioned to you only in passing and he can’t believe that you remembered.

You make it so hard for him to see you only as a friend when you’re this attentive. To be fair, he’d probably fall in love with anyone who gives him Lego, but he already liked you before. If only your boyfriend wasn’t the most attractive, masculine man in the entire world who, even though Peter’s confident in his skills, could probably maim Peter without any effort at all.

He’s not sure if it’s true, but you’ve told Peter that Logan is busy today, so he can’t join you for Peter’s birthday lunch. He introduces you to his friends and his aunt that have come to his small celebration, and he fantasises that surely some of them must think you and him have a thing going on. May definitely gives him a look when she sees how gorgeous you are, but she already knows all about Peter’s hopeless crush on you.

You kiss Peter’s cheek when everyone leaves, letting him blush in peace as you go up to your bedroom. 

You told him you’d watch a film with him tonight but you seem to have forgot. It’s evening already and he wouldn’t want you to stay up too long for him if you watched the film later. Even if you did forget, he’s grateful he got to spend the day with you.

He’s about to bring his best gift – the one you gave him – upstairs and to his room.

“You like it?” Logan’s voice sounds behind Peter.

“I love it. I’ve wanted this for ages,” he grins.

“I’m glad you appreciate it. She made me threaten a twelve-year-old over it. It was the last set they had at the store.”

Peter grows even fonder of you. He knows he must be blushing, but he also knows there’s no point in hiding it – not since the night he walked in on you and Logan having sex. He’s been hoping Logan didn’t tell you about their run-in afterwards, although he knows he can be a little obvious regardless. It’s hard to hide a crush as big as the one he has on you.

Logan clears his throat, folding his arms, all those muscles bulging, “I’m not the best with material gifts but I’ve got something else for you.”

“Yeah?” Peter’s wary. Logan and him aren’t exactly friends. He wasn’t even expecting you to give him a gift.

“I know you wanna fuck my girl.”

Peter gulps at Logan’s directness, starting to stammer out a few words that make no sense.

“Y’don’t have to deny it. Can’t blame you, can I? You wanna live out your fantasy?”

Peter finds it hard to imagine that this isn’t a trap or some sick joke. “No–no, of course not. She’s your girlfriend and I’d never, I mean, she’d never cheat on you and I’d never try anything. I respect you so much–”.

Logan cuts him off, “Calm down, bub. This isn’t a trick. I’m asking if you wanna fuck my girl for your birthday. We both had the idea,” Logan smiles, and he doesn’t have to wait for a verbal answer to know that Peter wants it – the gleam in his eyes tells him enough, “C’mon. She’s waiting in your room.”

Peter abandons the Lego box on the floor. He couldn’t care less if some student found it and took it for themself. Peter’s on his way to better things.

-

Peter doesn’t let himself believe it until Logan opens the door to his bedroom, and there you are. You’re sitting on his bed – something Peter has imagined many times but never even dreamt of seeing in reality – in the most gorgeous set of lingerie he’s ever seen (not that he’s seen many in real life… or any).

“Hi,” he waves awkwardly, unsure whether to try and hide his growing erection. You’re half-naked only a few feet away from him, and this is better than all of his wet dreams about you combined.

You’re grinning, first at Peter and then at Logan, who closes the door behind Peter.

Logan takes a step forward to bend down and kiss you. It’s a short but sloppy kiss, Logan’s hand resting on your cheek. He looks back, chuckling at how desperate Peter must already look, and sits down in the chair near the bed.

“Hope you don’t mind, I’ve made myself comfortable,” you bite your lip. Even your voice alone could make Peter cum.

“No no no, not at all. You look so gorgeous. I never thought I’d get to see someone look so sexy in real life.”

You giggle and it feels heavenly to be making you laugh like that. You lift your hand for him to take. He gasps when his hand touches yours, and you pull him to the bed with you. He feels like hyperventilating just from being so close to you in nothing but underwear. Peter wills himself to be strong; he can’t embarrass himself and cum right away.

“You know, Logan’s been trying to tell me for a while that you might have a tiny crush on me, and I didn’t believe it at first but…”

Peter laughs nervously before you can finish your sentence, but you don’t have to. Everyone in this room knows how much Peter likes you. All of Xavier’s school probably knows – teachers and students.

“Yeah,” Peter says weakly, cheeks hot.

 “Logan and I thought this could be a nice present for your birthday, if you want. Cause I think you’re cute too, and Logan doesn’t mind sharing me for one night.”

It hurts a little that you only find Peter cute, but he’ll take whatever he can get. Clearly he’s cute enough to fuck, and that’s all that really matters right now.

“Of course I want to, so what are we doing?” Peter doesn’t mean for it to come out so stupidly. He knows you’re going to have sex, he just doesn’t know the details.

“I’m gonna get you nice and hard first,” you say it with a smile, looking down at his lap, knowing exactly that he’s more than hard enough already, “and then Logan’s gonna join us and you can both fuck me at the same time. Does that sound alright?”

Peter grins. “More than alright. I don’t know if I’m gonna last long but I only need a few seconds before I can get hard again,” he tells you proudly, before he remembers that your boyfriend has healing abilities too, far more complex than Peter’s. You’re probably used to going endless rounds. Now he just feels a bit silly for admitting that he can’t last long. 

Peter turns to the side to face Logan. He’s manspreading, arms folded cockily in front of his chest, and it’s unnerving how a single person can ooze that much confidence. Although, if he looked like Logan and had a girlfriend like you, Peter’s sure he would be less insecure too.

“Have you had sex before?” you ask Peter all kindly, and he blushes thinking about the image of him you apparently have in your head. He’s not that experienced, but he’s not that innocent either.

“Yeah,” is all he manages to say at first.

“What have you done?” you ask him, gently resting your hand on his jaw, thumb trailing over Peter’s bottom lip. He stops himself from licking it.

“I’ve, uh, been inside of a woman before and I’ve, like, fingered her. My ex-girlfriend.”

You smile at the unnecessary piece of information, “That’s it? You’ve never had your dick sucked?”

Peter shakes his head, feeling like he’ll cum just from your words, “No, and I’ve never gone down on a woman.”

“You wanna?”

He nods his head so eagerly that it makes you giggle again.

“Maybe later,” you tell Peter, your hand dropping back to your lap.

“You can eat her pussy after I’ve cum in it,” Logan says with a smirk. You give him a look, turning to assure Peter.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to do that.”

Peter looks between you two, “I don’t mind! I’m up for anything.”

You smile, moving to straddle him as you hum, “Good boy.”

He tenses underneath you, eyes screwed shut, and he can’t even enjoy the way he cums as soon as you settle on top of him, your hands on his shoulders. Hot embarrassment floods Peter’s body, and he feels like he might cry.

“Aw, it’s okay,” your voice is nothing but sweet with not even a hint of amusement, and Peter dares to open his eyes. Your face is inches away from his, and your closeness makes him feel less embarrassed.

“You like me that much, hm?” you continue, and Peter hears a quiet laugh from Logan, but he doesn’t care about his opinion, only yours, “I’m flattered you do. Glad you like your gift.”

“I really thought the lego set was my favourite present,” he says. This time he cracks a smile too as Logan and you giggle at his words.

“Let’s get you out of your clothes, okay?”

You get off Peter after he nods, pulling off his shirt. Peter stands up as you kneel in front of the bed to pull off his jeans, biting your lip when you feel how sticky his cum-stained boxers are.

“Look at what a mess you’ve made, baby. So cute.”

Peter swears you’ll stop associating that word with him by the end of the night, although he’s starting to like you calling him that. He takes one glance at you on your knees for him, and he has to look away in fear of cumming again immediately. 

“I know,” Logan tells him, and Peter sees then how hard he already is too. Peter can’t believe Logan gets you like this every night, but for now he smiles at him as they silently bond over how attracted to you they both are. It’s impossible not to be.

Logan’s eyes drift down to Peter’s hard cock, and you’re grinning back up at your boyfriend, “Look how big he is, baby. Almost the same size as you.” The joy in your voice makes Peter stand a little bit taller. He’s proud that you like his dick. It’s probably the proudest moment of his life thus far.

You pull Peter back on the bed, sitting down as you lean back against your hands, “You wanna unwrap your present?”

Peter nods, smiling at the goosebumps that erupt on your flesh as he pulls at the ribbon that you’ve wrapped around your waist. He leans over to place it on his nightstand – he’s keeping that forever.

When he sits down in front of you, the sweet smell of you hits him. He looks between your legs, and there’s a wet spot on your panties. All because of him? He keeps feeling prouder and prouder.

“Thought about this so many times. Jerked off at least three times every single day since I walked in on you two.”

You and Logan smile at each other. He asks Peter, “You did that on purpose?”

Peter doesn’t turn to face Logan, the blush that has only just subsided flaring back up. “N-no. Of course not.” He knows neither of you believe his lie. He couldn’t help himself.

“Don’t worry. She liked it too,” Logan informs him, and Peter’s eyes go wide.

“You’re a handsome boy, Pete,” you shrug, brushing your hand through his hair and he hums at the nickname.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks finally, cock already so hard he can barely think, and you haven’t even done anything yet.

“Go ahead,” Logan says, but Peter pays him no mind.

“I wasn’t asking you,” he says bravely, and your eyes go to those of your boyfriend as you raise your eyebrows.

“Told you he’s got it in him,” you say, pulling Peter close to press your plush lips to his. It’s like an explosion of endorphins, and Peter knows that from this moment on he can die happy. You pull him closer, kisses getting wetter as the sound of them takes over the room, and it’s the hottest thing Peter has ever experienced.

“Here,” you briefly pause, taking his hand and guiding it to the clasp of your bra at your back. He fiddles with it for a few seconds, and you want to give him a chance, but then the bed dips with the weight of Logan, and he opens your bra with ease.

Peter doesn’t know when he took his clothes off, but Logan is naked except for his boxers. He looks nowhere nearly as good as you, of course, but his muscles aren’t exactly an unwelcome sight.

“Isn’t my girl so pretty, Pete?” Logan asks, pulling the straps of your bra down your arms, taking off your bra.

“She’s gorgeous,” Peter rasps, “She’s perfect.” Logan hums in agreement.

Peter has imagined your tits too many times to count, and yet they’re even better than anything he’s fantasised about. He’s too nervous to touch you, but you take his shaky hands, putting them on your breasts.

“Oh my god,” Peter whispers, breathlessly cupping and squeezing at your tits as his cock leaks with precum. He sees you biting your lip as you look at his lap, and Logan takes Peter’s hands off your tits.

“Take off her underwear,” Logan commands as you smile at his words. You lift your hips, upper body leaning against Logan, and Peter pulls your panties down your legs. He throws them off the bed somewhere, hoping you won’t be able to find them again so that Peter can keep them forever.

He moans loudly when you spread your legs, and it’s a wonder that Peter doesn’t cum again just at the sight of your pussy. You’re perfect, and so wet, and he falls to his hands, in front of you on all fours.

“You want her mouth or her pussy first?” Logan asks, although you and him already know the answer.

“Wanna go down on you,” Peter says, unable to tear his eyes away from your pussy. You spread your legs further for him, and he looks up at you with the most adorable puppy eyes you’ve ever seen.

“You can,” you smile.

Peter inhales deeply when he squashes his face between your thighs, trying to burn the memory of how good you smell into his brain forever. 

He doesn’t have a technique, he just starts. You let out a soft moan when Peter licks up your entire pussy once; he moans too as he tastes you. He grabs your soft thighs, putting them over his shoulders as he lies down.

You give him a reassuring smile as he begins to eat you out, experimenting with different licks and kisses. You turn to your side to start kissing Logan, your hand holding his wrist as his arm drapes over your chest.

Peter licks greedily at your pussy, and you reach into Logan’s boxers to start stroking the hard length of him. Your hand is coated in his precum quickly, and he smiles into the kiss before he gently nips at your lip.

“You okay there, bub?” Logan pulls away to smirk at Peter. If you can still kiss Logan that well, then Peter isn’t doing a good job. You both look down to find Peter more focussed on grinding his cock against the bed rather than on eating you out. He blushes.

You reach out to touch his cheek, some of Logan’s precum from your hand wiping against Peter’s face, “you’re so cute.”

He doesn’t even register the word anymore.

“You want Logan to teach you?”

Peter nods, moving only minimally to make space for Logan next to him, both their wide shoulders knocking against each other’s (okay, Logan’s are slightly bigger). Logan huffs but doesn’t say anything, placing one of your legs over his shoulder and pressing your other knee up against your chest.

“Here’s how you do it,” Logan looks at Peter, bending down to press a sloppy kiss right against your clit, coating you in his spit before he begins to gently suck. You squirm immediately, and Peter can’t wait to try it out on you.

Logan pushes two fingers into your wet pussy, moving them in a way that you evidently like. Peter doesn’t know what to look at – your pretty face or your pretty pussy. Logan huffs next to him, “I know she looks good, kid, but you gotta focus if you wanna make her cum.”

Peter nods, watching Logan sucking on your clit and moving his fingers inside you.

“You can use your fingers to fuck her,” he explains.

“I know,” Peter says, his tone perhaps a little more petulant than what he was aiming for, “I just hadn’t gotten her consent to do that yet, so I didn’t.”

You smile at him, “you can do whatever you want to me, Pete.”  

And that’s all he’s ever wanted to hear in his life.

Logan nods at him, sitting back up, and Peter gets between your legs. He knows he’s got it easier now because Logan had his mouth on you for a bit, but it wouldn’t be fair otherwise. Logan is like an old man with loads of experience, and he probably gets to fuck you every night, so he has an unfair advantage.

Your boyfriend gets next to you, kissing you – and it’s all sensual and passionate and wet and Peter can’t help but stare for a few moments. Logan starts touching your tits, groping you and moving to gently play with your nipples.

You pull away from the kiss, a string of spit hanging between your and Logan’s mouth, “Pete?” you ask softly, but Peter can hear some desperation in your voice. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

First, he quickly licks your pussy just to get that heavenly taste in his mouth again, then settles on a more precise movement of his tongue. He circles your clit, hearing you sigh against Logan’s mouth, but Peter isn’t sure if he’s the one who evoked that sound.

He slides two fingers into your pussy, curling them how Logan showed him to. He’s stopped moving his mouth, too concentrated on looking at your face to see a reaction.

“That’s it, Peter, don’t stop,” you moan, pushing his head back down and he happily wraps his lips around your clit, fucking you gently with his fingers.

“Yeah, baby, he’s got you,” Logan says into your neck, “You’ve got her, right, Peter?” he asks all smugly.

“Mhhmmm,” Peter squeaks without taking his mouth off you, and the vibration of his voice seems to make you squirm a bit more. He decides to let himself moan the way he’s been wanting to the entire time, subtly grinding his hips into the bed beneath him as he eats you out and fucks you with his fingers.

You cum with a cry that makes Peter even prouder than he’s been all night, and he thinks he’ll savour the feeling of your thighs squeezing around his head for the rest of his life. He pushes his tongue into your pussy to taste as much of your arousal as he can, stopping when he feels your and Logan’s eyes on him.

“Did such a good job,” you tell him, and he grins proudly. He gets on his knees to lean up and kiss you. Your tongue slides into his mouth, and his heart skips a beat at the way you smile into the kiss. He’s in heaven.

“You wanna fuck me now?” you ask, and Peter’s eyes go wide as he sits up and gets back between your thighs.

“And I want you too,” you smile up at your boyfriend, pulling at the waistband of his boxers. Peter has no idea how Logan has this much self-restraint, watching as he gets off the bed and takes off his boxers with a grin. Peter sees how you drool at the sight of Logan’s big dick, and Peter feels his own mouth watering. 

“Here you go, baby. Gonna be a good girl for me, right? Gonna take my cock? You been waiting for this, hm?” Logan kneels next to you. He holds his cock over your face, lightly slapping the tip against your lips. Peter’s cock pulses against his abs. 

You nod wordlessly, wrapping your lips around your boyfriend’s huge cock. You pull off him only to spit on it, jerking off the lower half of him that’s harder to fit in your mouth. 

The wet sounds coming from you sucking Logan’s cock make Peter’s dick twitch as he spills a new load of precum. It lands on your thigh, getting your attention. 

Peter doesn’t know how you can spare a single moment away from Logan’s cock, but you pull your mouth off him, “You can start if you’re ready,” you smile at Peter. Both of you watch him as he pushes his cock inside you. 

Your warm, velvety walls suck his cock in unlike anything he’s ever felt before. Peter’s eyes flutter shut and he just stays like that for a few moments, the sound your mouth makes around Logan’s cock doesn’t make it easier for Peter. Even if you don’t seem to mind him cumming fast, he’s trying to prevent it, feeling so close again already.

He hears Logan huff out a laugh, and Peter opens his eyes. You’ve stopped going down on your boyfriend, looking at Peter all sweetly.

“It’s okay if you cum quickly, I did too at the start,” Logan confesses. It’s hard to imagine him – the epitome of virility – not being able to last long, even with someone as perfect as you, but it makes Peter feel better about himself, by a lot.

“I really don’t mind it, Pete,” you smile, and Peter nods. He looks down towards where you’re joined, your pussy stuffed with his cock. Even though you’re used to something even bigger, there’s an obvious strain, and you’re squeezing around him hard even when he’s not moving.

You and Logan watch as Peter starts to fuck you, your hand on your boyfriend’s cock, lazily jerking him off. Logan doesn’t seem to mind watching Peter pushing into you slowly. The two pairs of eyes make him feel more self-conscious, yet it’s also invigorating.

Peter clumsily rubs at your clit, at least attempting to focus on something other than how good he feels.

“You’re so tight, feel so good,” he mumbles, and you seem like you’re enjoying it too, back arched and hand faltering around Logan’s cock. You’re too distracted by Peter.

“Don’t stop,” you say quietly, evidently not there yet but Peter’s sure you feel good.

You share an intimate smile with Logan, and he tells Peter, “Doin’ a really good job with my girl. This is the only thing, bub..”

Logan tries to hide his smile as he grabs Peter’s hand to guide his fingers back to your clit from where they’d drifted off to your thigh, where he’d just been holding you. Peter’s cheeks turn red – or maybe they’ve been red the entire time – as he goes back to playing with your clit.

He doesn’t notice it, but a few seconds later he stops touching your clit again, too distracted by how good your pussy feels. Logan shoves his hand between your legs instead, making you moan as soon as he starts rubbing your clit in circles.

Your pussy spasms around Peter’s cock as you orgasm, and he can practically feel the pleasure flowing through you.

“Can I cum inside you?” The question comes too late to wait for an answer so Peter pulls out, cumming all over your belly in sticky ribbons as he jerks off desperately.

You bite your lip when he’s done, humming as you take some of Peter’s cum off your belly, pushing your finger between your lips. “Tastes so good,” you tell Peter, “Taste it.” 

You swipe some more on your finger, bringing your hand up to Peter’s face as you put your finger in his mouth. He wraps his lips around it hesitantly, smiling shyly when he tastes his own saltiness. Logan’s watching him too, cock still hard.

You gently nudge Peter’s head down towards your belly, and he smiles at you sweetly as his lips glide over your skin and he begins to lick up his own cum.

“Don’t swallow it all,” you say, your hand in his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. He nods obediently, keeping his mouth closed when he’s licked your skin clean.

“Here,” you open your mouth for him, pulling him up to your face. His eyes go wide when he realises what you want him to do, and he holds your chin as he spits his cum into your mouth. 

He was starting to worry a little because, even though he knows he has no problem getting hard after a first orgasm, it’s been a while since he’s gone three times in a row. But now his dick is so hard again that it almost hurts.

You stick out your tongue, showing Peter and Logan the cum mixed with your spit in your mouth. “Come taste him,” you look up at Logan with the sexiest smile anyone has ever smiled, and Peter feels his cock flex as he somehow gets even harder.

Logan rolls his eyes playfully, bending down to kiss you nevertheless. Some of Peter’s cum runs down your chin, and Logan pulls away from the kiss to lick it up. Peter thinks he really should start training his stamina with how close he is again just from this.

You still don’t swallow when Logan stops kissing you. “Come here,” you tell Peter, and he kneels next to you so you have him and Logan at either side, their dicks hard. You sit up a little, spitting the rest of Peter’s cum into your hand as you reach for Logan’s cock, starting to jerk him off. 

He gives you a fake annoyed look at you using Peter’s cum as lube, but it’s obvious he likes it, and it makes Peter reach out to his own cock to give it a few strokes – he can’t help himself.

“Haven’t made you cum yet,” you peer up at Logan, who puts a reassuring hand on your cheek.

“You know I don’t mind watching you two, bub,” he says, and your wide smile hints that Logan has told you something slightly different in private. He doesn’t just mind it, he loves it. Peter gets why Logan might find that hard to admit in front of someone else, something about conventions and possessiveness, but he’s glad that Logan decided to share. He’s glad that you want him.

You wrap your lips around Logan’s cock again. While you suck his cock, you stop Peter’s hand on his cock, jerking him off instead. You pull your lips off Logan, turning to suck Peter’s dick.

You switch between them a few times, the taste of their precum mixing in your mouth and dripping down to their balls when you suck their dicks. Peter particularly enjoys this, awaiting his turn eagerly every time. The head of his cock is swollen with lust against the inside of your cheek, and you turn to him to focus on him fully, letting him get lost in the feeling of fucking your warm, wet mouth.

You put your hand on Logan’s hip, guiding him down the bed. He smirks as he gets between your thighs, watching you suck another man’s cock as he starts to fuck you. He goes slowly first, letting you adjust to his size as you moan around Peter’s dick.

Logan watches Peter’s eyes flutter shut at the vibration of your voice. Logan knows you’re not just moaning because of him inside you though.

“You like that, baby, hm? Like sucking Peter’s cock?” you don’t take your mouth off him, but your sparkling eyes meet Logan’s. It’s a look of understanding. 

Logan is ready to cum, but he tries to draw it out. He can go endless rounds but the first orgasm is always the best. He wants to savour it, save it for a bit longer. He focusses instead on making you cum, fucking against your g-spot, almost making you see stars.

You moan around Peter’s cock when you cum again, and Logan almost submits, but he’s able to fuck you through your orgasm without cumming. Peter spills into your mouth as your cheeks hollow around him, sucking him deeper down your throat.

“Such a good girl,” Logan praises you until your pussy stops pulsing with an orgasm, and you give him a fucked out smile as Peter pulls his cock out of your mouth.

“My girl,” Logan adds, kissing you, and you sigh against his lips in pleasure.

You sit up to grab the water bottle from the side of Peter’s bed and take a sip. You pass it to Peter and Logan afterwards, and you don’t move back between them once you’ve put the bottle away, so they’re facing each other.

You sit on your knees, looking between them as they’re impatiently waiting for you to come back, both their cocks standing hard and proud against their abs.

You bite your lip, “Are you into men, Pete?”

Peter’s heart misses a beat and then happily continues drumming against his chest as he nods eagerly, although he’s not sure why it matters right now.

You share a brief silent exchange with Logan before your next words. “So is Logan,” you nod towards your boyfriend. You wait for them to catch on to what you’re saying, but Peter is too shy to and Logan is still contemplating. This wasn’t a part of the plan, but he can’t say he’s against it. He just didn’t know you wanted to see him with another man the way he wants to see you with one.

“Um, what now?” Peter asks with a nervous smile, ready to please.

You fight the urge to simply answer now you kiss, “You think you two are the only ones that get a show?”

Peter’s eyes widen slightly at your suggestion before they brighten. A shy yet excited smile takes over his features.

“You sure, baby?” Logan asks you. You bite your lip, nodding slowly. Logan smirks, because he knows that exact look and you haven’t been quite this horny all night yet.

“Only if you want to as well,” you tell him, and he doesn’t need to answer.

“This okay for you, bub?” Logan lowers his voice as he speaks to Peter. 

He replies through an eager nod, “yeah.” The word comes out as a whisper.

Logan smirks as he leans in, gently placing his big hand around Peter’s throat. He’s not squeezing, just holding him in place. You didn’t mind Peter being all squirmy when you kissed him, but Logan wants to keep him still.

You watch their cocks rub against each other’s abs as they get closer, strings of spit connecting their lips as they make out, tongues tangling in desperation.

It’s sloppy, the way they kiss, and you could watch them forever.

Logan pulls his lips from Peter’s with a wet sound, firmly patting his cheek, “Now get on your knees, bub.”

The command makes even your knees buckle, and you watch Peter happily drop to the carpet, kneeling between Logan’s spread legs as he moves to the edge of the bed. He beckons you over to his side, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a messy kiss to your mouth.

You know he’s close now, having denied himself an orgasm this long.

Peter wraps a greedy hand around the base of Logan’s cock, leaning in to press a few kisses to his dick. You and Logan watch him, you pulled closely against his side.

“You want me to show you what to do?” you ask Peter after a while of him not doing anything but kissing and licking. Peter nods quickly, “yes please,” and you kiss him after you sit down next to him, tasting your boyfriend’s precum and some of your own arousal on him.

“Think he’s almost there,” you tell Peter as you look up at Logan through your lashes, and he smirks.

“That’s not a problem,” Peter says quickly.

“Here, you can use your tongue,” you tell him, wrapping your hand around Logan’s cock as you take him into your mouth, tongue wet against the underside of him, “try it.”

You keep holding Logan’s cock as you pull off him, angling it towards Peter’s face. His face is flushed as he takes Logan’s dick in his mouth for the first time, sucking on the tip.

“That’s it, doing so good,” you brush your thumb over Peter’s cheek where it bulges when he takes Logan deeper. Your and Logan’s eyes on him make him nervous, and he pulls off to kiss you instead.

You make out with him for a few moments, letting him kiss you greedily and wetly, before you guide your mouths back to Logan’s cock. You and Peter part only minimally as you kiss either side of Logan’s dick, spit running down from your mouths to his balls as you share him.

“Feels so good,” Logan mumbles, all blissed out, watching his perfect, pretty girlfriend share his cock with another guy.

You see how close he is, slowly pulling your mouth off him and leaning your cheek against his knee as you watch Peter take your boyfriend’s cock into his mouth all by himself.

“Attaboy,” Logan says, placing a hand on the back of Peter’s head when he goes deeper, spit falling from his lips.

“Juuust like that,” you add, your praise spurring Peter on. Logan’s other hand goes to your cheek, absent-mindedly brushing over it with his finger as he holds your face.

Peter gets more confident when Logan’s breath stutters. He moans on Logan’s cock as he takes him as deep as he can, the wet sound from his mouth obscene. 

Logan’s hips jerk as his cock twitches in Peter’s mouth, and he cums down his throat in warm, sticky ropes of his load.

“Good boy,” Logan softly ruffles Peter’s hair when he’s done, and you lean in to kiss Peter, some of your boyfriend’s cum still fresh on his lip.

“Doesn’t my boyfriend taste good?” you ask against his lips, hardly breaking the kiss. You can hear the slick of spit and cum on Logan’s cock already as he jerks off again, to the sight of you two making out with his cum between you.

“He does,” Peter mumbles against the skin of your jaw, kissing down your neck.

“He tastes better than me?” you tease.

“No– no, you taste better than anything in the world.” And Peter means it.

-

You’re not done until hours later; you fuck until it’s the middle of the night. Earlier, Peter was ready to forgo his birthday movie night just so you can go to sleep on time, but he got something much better, even if it means you stayed up late for him. He can’t say he feels too bad.

Peter is tucked in, you and Logan at either side as you send each other loving glances over Peter’s head. You’re stroking Peter’s hair, basically cuddling him with how close you are.

“Hope you liked your present,” you tell him, pressing one last kiss against his lips as you smile at his sleepy expression.

“Best birthday ever,” Peter mumbles, before he drifts off into a peaceful sleep.

-

P.S. reblog + let me know your thoughts and Logan and Peter will appear in your bed tonight 🩷🫣

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ok enough is enough. whichever one of you virgins invented instagram starbucks recipes, die 1000 deaths. I had a customer come in today holding out their phone (full brightness) and looking all shy and Im immediately like 🙄 fine ok, what does the instagram user want me to make for them this time. well this time it's a cringe harry potter themed frappucino. excuse me??? "can you make this for me?" I said excuse me??? -- I mean *customer service voice* "yeah it looks like I have all the ingredients, haha sure!"

ok cringe instagram harry potter frappucino drinker. ok. die. "Ive never had this drink before" yeah I can tell due to the fact that it didnt exist until someone posted a #aesthetic photo of it to instagram 14 hours ago ok. ok,

but whatever, Im paid to put up with this shit. so I add the ingredients all up on my computer and congrats! ur harry potter cringe social media drink has $10 worth of syrup in it. are you happy??? is this what you wanted??? a $10 frappucino??? $10. for a drink. you doubled the price of this drink for ur off-brand "harry potter and the legend of the overpriced starbucks drink" drink. you doubled the price!!! is this how u imagined spending ur day? is this what u wanted to do when u woke up this morning? $10 for a 24oz drink?

and u know, you KNOW the influencer making this recipe doesn't even work at a starbucks cause when it was all said and done the drink looked like shit. my blender was straining against the weight of your sins (and syrups) and Im sweating, Im an animal, Im losing my mind and my blender is getting watered down frappucino syrups everywhere -- u put so much shit liquid in this blender it doesnt even fit in the cup btw. it's making a huge mess. but is it instagramable? no, its fucking ugly. #trending #foryoupage #cringe $10 harold potter drink for adult children,

so are you happy? is ur social media influencer bestie happy? I made ur stupid $10 drink for u. does it taste good? no? well I hope instagram shuts down tomorrow. I hope you read a different book. I hope I never get sober. there is no sign of land. I hope you die. I hope we both die.

[nennuit]

[nennuit]

hozier (2014) being hozier’s debut album is fucking nuts like… take me to church?? from eden?? work song?? like real people do?? it will come back?? foreigner’s god?? cherry wine?? SEDATED?? what the fuck??

[nennuit]

Just on my Steve is smooth operator when he sets his mind on someone agenda. Because remember even Robin thinks he’s striking out because he doesn’t know what he wants. Cue him deciding he wants Eddie and cranking that charm up to eleven.

***

Steve took a deep breath. He was good at this. Just because he had struck out with girls lately didn’t mean he didn’t know how to come on to someone.

He waited until he had a handful of witnesses that wouldn’t hate crime him for this.

Eddie came into Family Video with Dustin, Lucas, and Mike to rent a movie. Will and the rest of Byers family were in the process of moving back to Indiana, so it was just the three boys today.

Steve had sent Robin to make sure there weren’t any other customers before he made his move. He walked up to the metalhead and stepped into his space until their bodies were almost touching.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

Seguir leyendo

[nennuit]

Whispers of "Are you sure?" - S.H

Steve Harrington x female!reader

A/n: Steve plans a group trip just to spend time with his favourite girl, friends to lovers, mutual pinning, smut 

Warnings: 18+, strong language, first kiss, kissing, virgin!reader, oral (f receiving), penetration (unprotected), use of 'good girl'

Word count: 3.3k 

The car was hot, stuffy and uncomfortable, still Steve tapped his fingers on the steering wheel along to some song that played on his radio. They hadn't said much, both quite happy with the comfortable silence that had formed but that didn't mean she wasn't nervous, that didn't mean she wasn't glancing over at him every chance she got, hoping to not get caught. 

She couldn't be blamed, Steve was undeniably pretty, he had that boyish heartthrob look about him that would've made him fit right into a rom-com. It didn't matter that he was sweating, that the curls that usually fell over his forehead were not sticking to it, he still looked nothing short of perfect. 

She took a deep breath. It was going to be a long trip if she spent the whole time fantasising about her best friend. Her eyes fell back to his hands anyway, his fingers still tapping away, making her fill with guilt at her own thoughts. She was worried he knew, like it was noticeable when her mind wondered, maybe she had a tell, maybe Steve knew exactly what she was thinking. 

Her eyes snapped away, trying to find something to focus on outside the window. Steve watched her idly, he hated that she looked away, the road felt more relaxing when he knew she was staring at him. 

"Is something wrong?" She hesitated to answer before shaking her head. Steve waited, glancing at her with his eyebrows raised. He knew sometimes it took some pushing to get her to talk. 

She shifted awkwardly in her seat, hating the way the leather stuck to her thighs. "It's just hot in here, that's all." 

All the windows were down but it was doing little to help, it was the beginning of August, the heat was inescapable and somehow being trapped in the car with Steve was only making her skin burn hotter. 

She fanned herself with her hand, causing the thin strap of her dress to cascade down her shoulder. Steve's eyes shot straight to it, he should've been looking at the road. He readjusted himself, subconsciously wetting his lips all the while. 

"Can I do anything?" 

"No Stevie, it's alright." The nickname went straight to his head, making him so dizzy the road blurred for a moment. It had been months since she had started calling him that and yet every time he still felt as he did the first.

It had taken her a long time to feel comfortable around him, less shy and more herself and Steve loved her even when she was sitting nervously in his passenger seat, not being able to glance at him without flustering herself. He was just desperate not to mess this up, he wanted to do it right, she deserved the best version of himself. 

Steve's hand now lingered inches from her thigh, he wanted to make the move and feel her skin under his but the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel uncomfortable or rush things, he knew she liked him but he was still nervous. 

“Is this-” His voice broke slightly, he coughed to cover it. “Is this okay?” His hand touched her knee and she flinched slightly. He had a sincere apology on the tip of his tongue, ready to beg for her forgiveness but she quickly relaxed under his touch. 

“Yes.” 

It was more than okay because it made her feel safe. Because it was Steve it didn’t matter that his hand was sweaty, what mattered was the way her heart rate picked up as his thumb began brushing back and forth along her skin. 

An hour passed and his hand didn't move, not even an inch up her skin. As much as Steve wanted to so badly his blood started to make his fingers tingle, he refused to. 

“Steve?” Her soft voice broke the silence. “How far away is this cabin?” She unfolded a half torn map Steve kept under his seat, smiling at the little way he’d written annotations over the map and circled places he'd been to before. 

“Oh, miles. It takes at least five hours to get there and then five hours back again.” Steve wiped the sweat from his forehead, taking his hand away from her skin without realising it but it seemed like second nature when he placed it back on her thigh, just a few inches higher now. 

All of this was Steve’s idea, of course she agreed to go because she would’ve gone anywhere he invited her but they’d already been driving for a while and she was sure Steve had mentioned that he hated long drives. So a ten hour round trip seemed like the last thing he would want to spend his summer doing. 

“I don’t-”

“You said you missed going on road trips, so I called everyone up to go to my parents cabin.” He shrugged like it was the most casual thing in the world, glancing away from the road to give her a quick smile.”It took some convincing especially because of the weather but I did it. So you could have your trip.”

Her chest tightened and her mind raced. No one in the entire world was as sweet as Steve Harrington. No one ever cared about her as much as he did. His kindness made the blood rush to her face, she shyly looked at her hands in her lap, dangerously close to his. 

“That's the most ridiculous thing you've ever done.” Steve panicked slightly, he hadn't upset her had he? His sweet girl would never call him ridiculous or anything mean for that matter, he did a double take between her and the road. 

She smiled softly, the kind of smile that made Steve weak. “Thank you.”

He let his shoulders drop again, sighing in relief. 

“I didn't know it was going to be this hot. But i did know i wasn't going up there in Eddie's van with Robin getting car sick half the way, i thought just the two of us would be nice. Right?”

She nodded, slipping her hand over his, lightly holding his fingers with her own. The sight made Steve's heart ache, ache to just lean over and kiss her until his lips were numb.

-

She couldn't lie and say she was nervous, as close as she was to Steve they'd never shared a bed before, she'd seen what he looked like in the morning after falling asleep on the couch in his living room but that was it. Their friends had quickly taken all the rooms and Steve so kindly offered to sleep on the sofa downstairs but she wouldn't sleep knowing he was down there all alone. 

The whole night was full of stolen glances between the two, both just as nervous for the night to end as the other, except Steve was almost enjoying the way he kept catching her staring at him. 

When Steve shut the bedroom door behind him, he couldn’t help but  take a deep breath in when he saw the little vest and shorts she was wearing, the cotton toying with his mind. he couldn't take it anymore.

She was anxiously standing at the edge of the bed, her hands clasped in front of her and her bottom lip between her teeth. She was overthinking everything, was she just supposed to get into bed, which side was she supposed to sleep on, would Steve want some kind of divider between them. 

He didn’t say a word, he just stepped towards her, his hands careful as he pulled her strap back to her shoulder. It was almost like he was holding his breath as he did it, she was certainly holding hers. 

It wasn't strange for little touches like that to happen between them but it was always just that, little touches. Like when he touched her leg in the car, nothing more than that but then Steve looked down at her like she was the most important person in his life. The kind of look she’d read about a thousand times over. 

Steve's hand encircled her jaw, tilting her head up. His gaze flickered between her eyes and her lips, he pressed his forehead against hers and she felt her whole body set alight. Heat rose to her cheeks and then a sudden panic set it. Her hand cupped Steve's, stopping him just inches from her. 

"I've never, I never been-" She tripped over her own words, embarrassment flooding around her. She knew Steve would never be so cruel as to taunt her but she couldn't hide how worried she was about this very moment. 

"Has no one ever kissed you before?" Steve's eyes softened, his eyebrows furrowing together with sincerity. "Fuck, how's that possible." He couldn't understand how no one had ever kissed this girl, his girl, those lips. The same ones that he'd watched her coat with peach lip balm so many times it was driving him mad. 

"What if I'm bad at it?" She whispered as she gazed up at him, so clearly scared it made Steve's heart pull towards her in his chest. He struggled to have any sense of self control at this moment. 

"Do you trust me?" She nodded so quickly it was adorable. Steve tightened his hold on her jaw just slightly, lifting her head so his lips were inches from her, deeply he whispered, "Then let me show you." 

He kissed her so softly she felt like she might break, everything about it was soft, Steve's hold on her jaw, the way he was brushing his lips over hers. It felt right though, it felt right to kiss him back, to feel his hand move to the back of her neck, pulling her impossible close to him. Her own hand went straight to his hair, without even thinking about it. She went to pull her hand away but Steve groaned in pleasure at the feeling. 

All her senses were drowning in Steve. His rich cologne, the taste of his toothpaste on her tongue, his skin on hers. She pulled back struggling to remember to breathe. "Stevie-" She stuttered breathlessly, her very first kiss leaving her dizzy. 

"It's alright we don't have to do anything else." He smiled at her wet lips and warm skin, his effect on her made the waiting worth it. His thumb stroked her cheek, basking in how closest he was to him, in the way she had so willingly let him be her first kiss. 

She looked at him for a moment, something burning on the tip of her tongue. She swallowed down her nervousness, looking into Steve's pretty eyes to calm herself. "I want to." 

He knew what she meant. And while Steve wanted nothing more than to show her everything, to be her first everything he couldn't. It had to be careful with her, take things slow. His head screaming at him to just kiss her again wasn't helping.

"Sweetheart-"

She cut him off with pleading eyes that sent all the blood rushing to his head, he could've moaned out loud at what she said next. 

"Please."  She practically whined, pulling Steve closer by his soft shirt with shaking hands. Steve's hands covered hers and before she could desperately beg again he kissed her. 

He wasn't as soft this time. It was full of pinning and want, every feeling Steve had ever felt for her made him kiss her that much harder. His hands encircled her waist pulling her flush against him, fingers slipping under the waistband of her shorts. 

She flinched at that, taking in a sudden breath that allowed Steve to slip his tongue into her mouth, he groaned at the feeling, still trying to find any bit of self control he had left. 

Steve pulled back this time, taking small steps until the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed. He looked in her eyes for any signs of wanting to stop and for some reason she knew what he was checking for. She nodded, laying back onto the mattress and having Steve quickly follow her. 

His hands soothed along her thighs as he crowed her, kneeling above her he noticed just how flustered she was. He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "It's just us, sweet girl, just us." 

"Can-" He waited patiently for her to continue but she only glanced at their clothes. Steve's hand quickly removed his shirt, fluffing up his hair in the process. Then more carefully he tugged her top over her head, muttering under his breath at the sight of her bare chest. 

He began kissing along her neck, biting lightly then sucking in a treacherous pattern. Her hand fell to his hair, gripping slightly at the ends. "Do you like this?" He placed a soft kiss in the middle of her chest, slowly making his way down her stomach waiting for an answer but only getting hushed whispers from her lips. 

Steve was making her head spin and all he'd done was kiss her, she tried to focus but Steve's lips never stopped, it was like he was determined to touch every inch of her exposed skin. 

His hands pushed her thighs up so they were either side of his head, he placed one last kiss just above the top of her shorts. Slowly he took them off, her breathing began to shake when she released he had a hold of her underwear too, pulling both off at the same time. 

She would've panicked now, self consciousness taking over, but then Steve muttered to himself a little louder this time, like he wanted her to hear. "So fucking pretty." 

Her stomach tightened, those three little words had made her cunt drip as Steve looked at her like he was high out of his mind. 

It felt like hours since he'd kissed her, since he'd touched her. "Stevie." She wasn't sure if something was wrong, if it was meant to go like this, was he meant to spend so long tracing her thighs and kissing her stomach. "Please." 

"Can I taste you?"  He was desperate to, the way he had his best girl laying back so needy for him was making it hard to think straight, he just wanted to feel her in any way he could. He ran a finger over her cunt, barely touching her and she shivered in response. She was so untouched.

"Words pretty girl." He wasn't intending to tease her but she was already a mess for him, so wet she was dripping onto the sheets, Steve's tongue instinctively wet his bottom lip. He purposely avoided where she wanted him most, kissing her inner thigh and scraping his teeth along her skin, his fingers slipping through her folds perfectly. 

"Please-need you." She bit down on the inside of her cheek as Steve attached his lips to her cunt, he moaned against her instantly, sending a wave of pleasure she would've never felt on her own through her body. 

His hands held her legs apart already knowing she would try to close them but he wanted her to feel everything, he wanted to keep her spread open for him like a good girl.

"Fuck." It was the first time he'd ever heard her swear. She threw her head back, fingers tugging at his hair again but much harsher now. In response, he flicked his tongue over her clit. "Steve." He would've berated her for not using his special nickname but he couldn't pull away. 

He sucked her swollen clit, listening to her pretty whining that turned into desperate cries. His hold on her legs grew tighter, almost painful but Steve was struggling to keep control as he pressed himself into the mattress. Every little sound she made only made him harder. 

"St-Stevie." She stuttered out his name, feeling the knot in her stomach snap and pleasure flood her body as Steve grunts against her cunt.

After a few seconds of teetering the edge of pain Steve let up, lifting his head with his lips covered in her. 

His arms caged her in and she pushed her hips up just enough so that her wet cunt rubbed against him. His grip on the sheets tightened, for someone so sweet and innocent she was definitely trying to kill him. 

"Did so, so good." He kissed her knee, slightly rubbing her leg so comfortingly it almost felt innocent.

He tugged off his trousers and his boxers, not missing the way her eyes glossed over at the sight of his reddened cock. As badly as he wanted to feel her pretty mouth around him tonight was about her. He began towering back over her just so she could feel him against her. 

She cutely rubbed her nose against his inviting him in for another kiss. She tasted herself on his tongue and was certain that no one was ever going to treat her as good as Steve did.

"Are you sure?" He whispered against her lips, a hand slipping to her hips. He looked between where his cock was inches from her core and her flushed face. She did the same. 

"I'm sure." She entangled  her hand with his. Steve's eyes rolled back as he slowly pushed himself inside her, her eyes closed tightly at the slight sting, gripping his hand for comfort. 

"It's okay, fuck, I know. I've got you." He watched as he sunk into her, his cock already twitching at the way she clenched around him trying to adjust. He never wanted to hurt her so he stilled for a moment.

They were both panting heavily, her hold on Steve's hand unrelenting. She didn't know what to expect but all she wanted was for Steve to move, to make her cum all over again. "Please keep going." 

He could never say no to her. His hips rolled against hers and she tried to keep her eyes open not wanting to miss the way Steve's cheeks had turned a deep red. But he was making it difficult. 

A harsh thrust caused her to take all of him, making her bite her lip hard enough to draw blood. 

"Don't be quiet pretty girl, I want to hear how good I'm making you feel." He hit the spot inside her again, his pace picking up. He just wanted her to completely and let go for him, he needed to hear her scream his name. 

She let up on her bottom lip, doing just as Steve told her and moaning out for him. That feeling came back, the tightness in her stomach harder to hold off now Steve was fucking her sore cunt. "I-god, fuck, Steve."

He gripped her hips harder, his own body burning at the feeling of being inside her. 

"Fuck, you feel so good baby, fuck. Taking me so well." Steve chanted, she was too tight, she was gripping him too much. "My good girl." His hand sneaked down to run circles on her clit wanting her to feel even better than he did. 

"I can't, wanna-" Her head felt fuzzy, all she could feel was Steve and all she could think was how badly she never wanted him to stop, ever. 

"It's okay, cum for me." Steve's hips stuttered as she clenched around him, all she needed was his permission and she felt everything that had built up snap into a title wave of pleasure.

Feeling her soaking him made the last tether of control Steve had break, reaching his high and letting up on his assault on her clit before sending her into overstimulation. Another time.

Through the haze and bliss Steve heard her pretty little voice stutter out. "I love you Stevie." 

"I love you too." He murmured into her neck, panting against her skin. He'd wait until she was completely relaxed to start taking care of her the way she deserved, to kiss her cheek and tell how he was always going to be hers.  

[nennuit]

based on this post, because at this point i think it's safe to say @unclewaynemunson is actually my muse or something (hi anna i hope this is okay even though it’s, like, way angsty and way too long huh)

Two days after Starcourt, concussed and beaten, Steve has a seizure.

His ears are still ringing when the doctor gives him a stern glance over the rim of his glasses and pronounces him unfit to drive. No, in fact, he claims Steve poses a real danger to himself and others if he sat behind a wheel again.

Immediately, Dustin and Robin jump to promising that they won't let him do that, and in another life Steve is sure he would be grateful, or at least reasonable about it, but in this one he has a horrible second where the floor falls out from under him and he wishes, for just one second, that his head had been shaken a bit more, just enough to–

It makes him nauseous even thinking that. Everything does, lately. He closes his eyes against the offensive brightness of the hospital room and lets the sound of Dustin's and Robin's voices wash over him as he takes a moment to really take in what the doctor's orders entail.

He can't drive anymore. No more late night drives to watch the street lights pass and lull him into a safer state of mind than his bedroom walls could. No more driving the kids to their DnD sessions, no more taking Robin anywhere at the drop of a hat, no more bickering, no more reign over the music, no more stern glances through the rearview mirror, no more "Shut up, Wheeler, or you're leaving the car."

No more "Thanks, Steve!", no more "I'll bring some of mom's cookies if you drive us to the arcade", no more "You're the best" or "You're a lifesaver" or "I owe you one".

No more place for him in the group, no more use for him, no more...

No more. Nothing. Now he's just Steve, would-be lifesaver, 'has-been babysitter', 'could-have-been somebody until he lost his license to drive because he wasn't quick enough, wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough'. Just Steve.

He doesn't know how to be that. Who is Steve Harrington without his car, without the one thing he was good for anymore?

The pit in his chest is deep enough, dark enough to pull him in, and for a moment the very thing he is good for is misery.

He waits until a nurse makes everyone leave for the night, and then he cries. It makes his head hurt, pressure building behind his eyes, but he's used to being in more pain than any teenager should be in, so he curls in on himself and hides underneath the blanket.

Here's to hoping the others won't notice just how useless he is now. Not too soon, anyway. He wants another month. A painless month filled with laughter and hugs, and then they're free to leave, to pull back slowly. Calls unanswered, radio channels changed so he won't reach them, sheepish apologies and rain checks, because now Nancy will drive them. Or Jonathan. Hell, maybe Max will take the risk just to avoid him.

---

He gets a week of daily visits in the hospital, the doctors and nurses insisting on keeping him here, a watchful eye on his vitals, scanning his head three times during his stay, insisting he has head trauma of a severely worrying degree.

Nancy picks him up from the hospital and it's awkward, tense, too much left unsaid between them but there's no one else to do it. Steve's hands are shaking, gripping the seatbelt the whole way home – and then his heart falls when he sees his Beemer in the driveway. The glorious, trusty, wonderful, best fucking car anyone could wish for. His baby. His.

He throw up into the brushes when he realises that he won't get to take it on one last ride. Maybe he shouldn't be so attached to a car. Maybe he's being pathetic about it. At least he can explain away the fat tears in his eyes now, and Nancy doesn't press.

The first thing he does when Nancy is gone is calling Robin, and she's excited when she says, "I'll come right over!" and Steve wants to ask, how, but he keeps his mouth shut, biting his lip. It's stupid, but the thought of someone else driving Robin over makes his skin crawl.

"Alright," he says instead, his voice raspy, and he hangs up before she can detect something in his voice.

After that, he goes outside again and runs his hand along his Beemer. It's shining in the sun; he had it cleaned the other week, the full program, every step in the book to celebrate four years since he got her.

"Four years, huh," Steve says, his nail catching on a minor scratch that isn't even visible but might be more familiar to him than even his home. "Damn good four years."

He's talking to his car. God, it's so stupid, it's so stupid, it's so stupid–

Steve's knees give out and he gives in to the desire that's burning under his skin sometimes, the desire to just sit down and ignore the world. Because everything is less real when you're sitting down somewhere you're not meant to be, and the ground is warm, and Steve just wants the world to go. His head is leaning back against the warm metal of the driver's door, and he closes his eyes for a while, his head still spinning, his ears still ringing, everything still awful.

After a while, there’s a shadow followed by a weight settling down between him, a head landing on his shoulder, a hand taking his.

"I'm so sorry, Stevie," Robin says. The lack of dingus makes it more real, somehow. More tragic. More pathetic.

"I'll live." And it feels a bit like a lie.

---

He gets his month. A month filled with barbecues in his backyard, the kids coming by after school to check on him, and Robin has practically moved in. Joyce picks him up on Friday nights for dinner at their house for a change of scenery.

It’s a good month, though Steve feels trapped. Caged. A bird without his wings, a boy without his car. Steve without his one purpose, the one thing he was good for. He has to be picked up because they don’t trust him walking, or they have to come to his place. And soon the worried glances that are thrown his way are too much, caging him further, reminding him of what this is. A pity party — quite literally. No one trusts him anymore, there’s always someone jumping to help him, not caring or listening to his protests.

And he can’t leave, because “What if you have a seizure in your room?”

It makes him want to scream.

Maybe it shows, or maybe everyone’s just fed up with him now that he can’t provide his taxi services anymore, but after summer the Byers dinners stop and the kids pull away.

“Told you that’s all I’m good for,” Steve says with a mean, pained huff as he hangs up the phone. Claudia said Dustin isn’t home, but he could hear the kids in the background. It hurts more than it should.

“What is?” Robin asks from her place on the floor with her back against the wall.

“Nothing.”

She frowns. “Come on, dingus, you can’t start and then—“

“No, I mean it. Nothing. That’s what I’m good for now that I can’t drive them anymore.”

“Bullshit!” she says, and it comes out so harsh that it makes Steve flinch. He swallows. Right. Robin isn’t hear to listen to him whine about how he feels like he has no place in this town, in this group, in this life anymore now that his head is so fucked up he can’t even be trusted to live alone.

That’s why Robin is here, right?

The babysitter becomes the babysitted… or something.

She doesn’t care, not really. She doesn’t listen. She doesn’t ask.

“Steve, they’re kids.”

“Yeah, well. So am I.”

He turns away from her and ignores the tears threatening to fall. The door to his room falls shut and he would love to lock it just to make a point to the world at large, a point that it can’t shut him out if he shuts himself in, but he knows it’s too risky. If he has a seizure, Robin needs to get in.

He can’t even stay in his room alone without supervision anymore. What kind of a fuck-up is he becoming, where does it end? He’s already managed to chase away the kids, even Dustin only checks on him sporadically anymore, and it hurts. He wants to know why, wants to know what he did, how to take it back, how to get them back.

But then he remembers how it all started. Dustin needed a ride and someone to take a beating. Both of which he can’t do anymore without risking life and death of himself and others. He’s a safety hazard. He’s useless. He’s Steve fucking Harrington, which doesn’t mean anything anymore.

---

And then it’s spring, and Chrissy Cunningham is found dead in Eddie Munson’s trailer. The group is back together again, the Party assembled once more. And Steve, for a just one second, hopes that he can get it right this time, that he can do this again. One last time. Because Vecna slash Henry slash One surely is it.

But then they turn on him — even Eddie looks confused, which is a rather adorable look on him — the moment Steve tries to get a word in.

“You’re not coming with us, Steve.” That’s Dustin, and Steve just rolls his eyes, but then Robin joins in.

“Yeah, no, I’m with the gremlin on this, dingus.”

“Hey!”

“Oh shut it, Henderson.” She turns to him, her eyes softer but no less burning another hole inside Steve. “We can’t risk it, Steve.”

“Risk what?” It’s a challenge. His shoulders squared, his jaw clenched, he’s challenging her, and it’s cruel.

She holds his eyes, her expression icy, like he’s stupid. “We can’t risk you dying. We can’t risk you getting a seizure mid-fight or just by being in the Upside Down.”

“Hey, woah,” Eddie tries to get a word in, but Steve won’t hear him as the desperation, the loneliness, the feeling of being caged like a bird and still the only human left on a desolate planet, all that breaks free.

“We all know that dying in a fight is the only thing I’m good for anyway.”

The silence among their war council, as Max dubbed it, is deafening.

“What?” Lucas sounds small when he asks that, and Steve closes his eyes. He hadn’t meant for him to hear that. Any of them, actually. They weren’t supposed to know.

“Steve, that’s not true.” Dustin’s words are filled with disbelief and worry, and Steve hates the worry, it makes his skin crawl, it makes his heart race, it makes his fists clenched and it makes him want to scream again.

“What else then, huh?” he asks weakly. “What else is there? None of you even talk to me anymore since Starcourt. Since summer.”

“Because you were pulling away,” Nancy explains, though her words are weak and her mouth clicks shut when Steve looks at her.

“Because we’re scared.” Max this time, and Steve doesn’t want to look at her, doesn’t want to tell a child that she’s not allowed to be scared for him— not more than he is, anyway. It doesn’t make sense for him to be hurt. They don’t want him to die. That’s a good thing, right? They didn’t want to see him hurt, so they looked away. It makes sense.

But it also hurts.

Steve shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose before all but running from the trailer. He doesn’t make it far (“Stay close so we won’t have to worry”), just needs some fresh air and to sit down somewhere the world will become a bit less real again.

The stairs it is. He tries to breathe through the lump in his throat, clenching and unclenching his hands to get rid of the anger and the hurt and all that excess energy.

He doesn’t want to die, is the thing. The very thought makes him nauseous and panicky. He wants his life back. His car. The freedom to just jump in there and get away. He doesn’t want the cage or the worry or the hovering or the loneliness when he isolates himself from all that.

Face buried in his hands, Steve almost misses it when someone comes to sit beside him. The thick smell of leather and cigarettes tells him who it is without looking up.

Eddie doesn’t speak for a while, just sits with him as Steve calms down.

And then, after a while, he lights a cigarette and asks, “You get seizures, Harrington?”

Steve nods. “Sometimes.”

Eddie hums. “That sucks.”

He nods again, and then that’s that. But even though it was a rhetorical question and Eddie didn’t even need an answer, it feels pathetically good to be asked about something. About himself. It only makes the pit inside his chest deeper, cutting into his soul with a sharp edge, this tiny little moment of normalcy. He wants to cling to it. He wants to talk to Eddie. God, he hasn’t really talked to anyone in so long.

“Before Starcourt — remember, the mall? The fire? Yeah that was, uhm. More monster shit. And Russians who thought I was a spy and then… yeah. Anyway. Uh. We used to be friends, I think. The kids and I. They used to care — or I like to think that they did. And then I got one too many head injuries, and the seizures started, and then they… It became too much. For them, for me. And the caring stopped. And, like, it’s fine or whatever, but I still care, and I can’t let them do all that alone. I know that all I was good for was taking them somewhere with my car, but I can’t drive anymore, so now I’m just… I’m just Steve. No titles attached, no use or function or point.”

Eddie just stares at him, puzzled and intrigued and even a little sad, and Steve wants to laugh it off when the silence stretches.

“Sorry, that’s kind of a sob story, you—“

“Wait here,” Eddie says, stubbing out his cigarette before disappearing back into the trailer. Steve watches him with a confused frown but stays put. A minute later, the door flies open and a scandalised looking Max appears, followed by the rest of the crew.

“You what?!”

“Uh,” Steve blinks. “I what?”

“Eddie told us you think you’re useless and that we don’t like you and that all you were ever good for is driving us from A to B with, like, no personal value whatsoever,” Dustin fills in, sounding no less bewildered. “Is that true, Steve?”

And God, the kid is so good at making all his questions sound like dares that Steve instinctively wants to swallow and negate it, tell them that Eddie misheard, that he’s fine, that everything fine.

But then Robin’s whispered little, “Steve” stops him from doing that. In fact, the sadness and confusion on their faces makes the dams break once more, confronted with months of spiralling and no one to drag him out, no one to listen.

Tears spring to his eyes and he gets up from the stairs to properly face them. He shrugs. It’s as much of a confirmation as anything.

And then Dustin sprints forward and tackle-hugs him, burying his face in Steve’s chest with no intention to let go anytime soon.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into Steve’s shirt and Steve runs a hand through his hair immediately.

“It’s okay, Dustin.”

“No! It’s fucking not okay, Steve, stop saying that. You’re my big brother, you’re my best friend, you’re my hero! You’re the coolest guy I know and nothing’s gonna change that, okay?”

“Then why’d you leave?” His voice is so small, but Dustin only hugs him tighter.

“Because you were hurting and I was… I feel like all of that is my fault.”

“Why would it be your fault, Dustin?”

He shrugs, and it breaks Steve’s heart. Dustin thinks everything is his fault just like Steve thinks it’s his.

“It’s me who got you into the thing with the Russians. I insisted. And you were tortured for it, Steve! You… You told us to go, and we did, and then we came back and you were— you-“

“Hey,” Steve whispers, curling himself around and over Dustin. “Hey, no, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. None of that.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry I pulled away, Steve,” Dustin sniffles and looks up at him. “I swear it’s not because I think you’re useless. It’s just… I’m so scared.”

And it makes sense, somehow. The anger leaves Steve when he whispers, “Me too. And I don’t like it when you’re all scared and worried. I hate it.”

“I know. Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Shut up.”

And then they’re both laughing with tears in their eyes. Lucas and Max join them with their own promises that Steve isn’t worthless to them.

“Did you read my letter? You know, the one if…”

“No,” Steve says. “You told me not to.”

“Right. Anyway, read it. Whatever happens, I want you to read it. Because you’re my brother and you mean too much for me to, like, never let you know. But, uh. Billy died. And I hated him, but it fucked me up. And then you almost died, and then you almost died again; and then you just… collapsed. And I thought, I cant do this again, not with someone I actually like. Not with you. And I didn’t wanna watch. I watched Billy. I… I can’t watch you die, Steve.”

She’s crying by the end of it, and Steve pulls her against his chest. Shit, he hadn’t meant to make anyone cry like that.

“It’s okay, Max, I get it.”

“Not okay,” she shakes her head again. “I know it’s not. But—“

“I know.” He’s stroking through her hair. “I know.”

“Uh, guys? I hate to break up the heartfelt confession time,” Eddie chimes in. “But I think our window is closing.”

Right. The end of the world.

With one last squeeze to Max’s shoulders, he lets her go and they gather their things. Discussions about Steve’s joining their mission have been put on hold while their window is still open. They can continue this later.

Nancy drives while Max holds Steve’s hand in the back. They don’t talk and she has her headphones on, letting Kate Bush work her magic, but it’s fine. It feels a bit like healing.

He catches Eddie’s eyes on the other side and holds them for a while. Eddie smiles before looking away, and Steve does the same.

---

In the end, Steve doesn't climb the rope with them. He stays behind in Eddie's trailer even though every fibre of his being screams at him to join. But Nancy has a point when she explains to him that she and Robin got this. It's the first time he stays behind, and he hopes it will be the last.

They hug him before leaving, all of them. Promises are made to talk about this later, after, and he nods.

"Go save the world for me," he tells Robin, holding her tight, unwilling to let go.

"Only for you," she promises, and kisses his cheek before pulling away. "You better be right here when we come back."

He shrugs and gives her an encouraging smile. "I've got nowhere else to be, Buckley. Now go." The last words are whispered and it feels like goodbye. Steve should join them, he should be there! But his head is pulsing and he knows that one wrong move could leave him half blind with a migraine, and they don't need one more handicap.

The one thing he can do, though, is helping them climb the rope, and it makes him feel ridiculously proud, seeing them land safely on the other side, smiling up (or down?) at him. Robin and Nancy wave one last time before heading off.

That leaves him alone with Eddie and Dustin. The latter is already climbing the rope, itching to finally do something, preparing the trailer for their plan.

Only Eddie is left, and Steve looks over at him.

"Will you be okay, Steve?"

"Sure."

Eddie sighs and looks up at the gate, disbelief and resignation and even a hint of fascination in his eyes.

"It should be you," he says, and Steve frowns, confused. "You're the hero here."

"No," Steve huffs, smiling at the metalhead. "No, I'm no hero. The real heroes are already up there, and in California. The real hero died after Starcourt. I'm just the driver who lost his license, the boy with the bat. The protector who needs to be protected."

Eddie looks at him again, that kind of intense stare, the one that shows Steve that Eddie sees something in him. He wonders what it is, but isn't sure he wants to know.

"I think you're wrong, Steve." He says it with such gentle conviction that it takes Steve's breath away for a second, and something passes between them as they hold each other's eyes.

Eddie opens his mouth to say something, but then–

"Eddie!" Dustin is calling for him from the other side, and the boys snap out of their daze.

Steve steps into Eddie's personal space and pulls him to his chest. "Make him pay," he says. "But stay safe. Come back, okay? First sign of danger, you abort mission. Come back, Eddie. I'll be right here."

"Yeah," Eddie rasps, and he squeezes Steve once more. "Catch me when I fall through that gate in two hours?"

Steve laughs, a sad little thing, and he pushes Eddie away from him, hands steady on his shoulders. "Sure, big boy."

"Hey, that's my part."

"Say it when you come back, then."

This thing passes between them again, and then Eddie goes to climb the rope. Steve's hands find their way to his hips, steadying him, but Eddie is strong enough to pull himself up without problem. Huh.

"In the meantime, wrap your head around the fact that you're the one I'm coming back for, pretty boy."

And then Eddie is gone. Steve watches as he falls through the gate, landing on the mattress with more elegance this time, and then he, too, grins down (or up?) at Steve.

He gives a little wave, and then he is alone.

Plenty of room to think when your friends have gone on a suicide mission and you're the one who has to stay behind. The one who will have to do the explaining when things go south. The one who will have to watch and listen, helpless.

It makes him regret the past few months, the self isolation, all the times he pulled back, all the times he didn't push for an explanation or a conversation, all the times he hadn't asked the kids if they're alright because he was too caught up in all the ways that he wasn't.

God, he wants them to be okay. He wants to talk about this, wants them to tell him he's more than the driver without a license, more than the protector who needs protecting. He wants Eddie to come back and explain what he meant, say what he wanted to say. He wants...

He wants his old life back. But more than that, he wants them in his new life just as much. He wants to be brave enough for this new life and find a new purpose. Create one if he can't find it.

But he can't do it alone. He refuses to do it alone even one day more.

"Come back to me," he whispers, looking up at the gate from where he's sitting on the floor, back against the wall. "Come on guys, you've got this. Please work. Please, make the plan work."

And then, miraculously, it does. Eddie falls into his arms with an undignified squeal and the rest of the Party soon follow. They're unscathed, miraculously, and Steve cries as he holds them, all of them, in a group hug that makes the trailer smell like relief and grief and a new life ahead of them. Slowly, with an unnatural sound, the gate above them closes, and then silence reigns.

They cling to him now. Refuse to let go. Good thing he has nowhere to go as Lucas gasps and sobs into his chest, explaining what happened, that Jason almost destroyed the walkman, that Max could have died. And Steve runs shaky hands through his hair, pulling in Max, too, so the three of them can just hold each other for a second.

Dustin and Eddie are hugging beside them, and Nancy and Robin hold hands, a different kind of horror in their eyes, but they smile wetly at Steve as their eyes meet.

It's over. It's done.

They did it. They really did it.

Steve closes his eyes and holds Lucas and Max tighter. They don't complain.

---

Three days later, Steve's house is brimming with life again like it hasn't in months. Turns out, Hopper survived, and he hugged Steve for a whole five minutes, telling him he did good, he did great, he's a hero. Again with that shit that Steve doesn't believe, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Hop, so he just buries deeper into their embrace.

"It's good you're alive," he tells him, and the Chief sobs out a laugh.

"You too, kid. This town would be lost without you."

"Yeah, right," Steve laughs back, and then that is that.

Except, it isn't, because when he returns to the living room with Hop, Joyce and El in tow, everyone's standing, looking at him with timid expressions. Robin and Eddie are holding hands this time, and so are all the kids. They all look like they have something to say, and the only thing missing is a large banner that says INTERVENTION.

"Uh, what's going on?"

Dustin is the first to clear his throat, but only after Erica kicks him. "We wanted to apologise. For leaving you when you needed us the most."

Oh. Steve's shaking his head, placating words already on the tip of his tongue, ready to explain to them how that's not their fault, how that was all him, he could have said something, he could have asked, he could have–

"Steve," Nancy says, effectively cutting off any protest he could have voiced. "Just listen, okay? Don't say anything."

He looks at Joyce, who nods, and Hopper who looks about as lost as he feels.

Dustin continues then. "You deserved better, Steve, you really, really did. We all did, I think, but you... You put yourself in harm's way from the get-go."

"Yeah, you came to protect me when you didn't even like me." Jonathan this time. "No thoughts, just protection. I owe my life to you. Every single one in this room does, y'know."

"And what you got for it is severe head trauma and... us abandoning you." Nancy.

"You're not just the driver, Steve. You never were just a driver to us." Hell, even Mike is in on this? "You're annoying, you suck, and you don't even try not to act like you're everyone's big brother."

"You're family, Steve." Oh, baby Byers. That's what gets his eyes stinging and his lip trembling, so he bites down on it so they won't have to see. It's futile with the way they're smiling.

"Yeah. You're so much more than our babysitter," Lucas explains. "You're the best basketball coach."

"You actually listen to my music and read comics with me," Max continues with a smile. "You suck just a little less than everyone else in this town."

"Hey!"

"No, she has a point."

Steve's not keeping up with the who's who anymore, he's trying too hard to keep it together.

"You teach me new words," El says, smiling. "You give me your clothes, you take me shopping, you teach me how to deal with meanies."

And the list goes on. Everyone has something to say to him, something beyond the ways he can be useful. Something that he is to them, something meaningful, something that sounds a lot like purpose and family.

"And we were so scared, because you were hurt. Because of us. You were protecting us, and look where it got you. You're a hero, Steve. As real as they get, you are one."

"More than Wonder Woman," Max agrees. "More than Superman. You're Steve! And that's... He’s our hero."

"He’s our brother," Dustin says.

"He’s my son," Joyce adds, taking his hand.

"He’s our friend," Erica, Mike and El say in unison.

“He’s the one we stay for.” Robin’s eyes shine as she smiles.

“And the one we come back for.” Eddie’s smile is gentle, confident, and captivating. Steve can’t look away, even through his own tears.

---

In the following months, Robin gets her license and Eddie develops a sixth sense for whenever Steve needs to just sit in a car and ride around town, watching the street lamps pass and letting them lull him to sleep. There’s an upside to being a passenger, he finds, because he falls asleep like this a few times, always waking when Eddie kills the engine. He drives for hours sometimes, admitting with a blush high on his cheeks that he didn’t want to wake Steve.

Somewhere on the highway to Indianapolis, between three and four in the morning, Steve looks at Eddie in the soft glow of the night, and finds that he’s fallen in love.

And in the weeks and months and years that follow, he realises that that’s something new he’s good at.

[nennuit]

@pscentral event 13: tropes ↳ steve harrington

[nennuit]

Okay I kept thinking about this post and Steve being a BNF of Corroded Coffin message board of the internet of yore.

Alright so way back in the nineties Suzie hooks everyone up with the internet, yes? Yes. Eddie and Steve got together in '92 after some mutual pining and a few disastrous relationships that couldn't handle 1) Steve and Robin's general QPR clinginess 2) Eddie's intensity 3) the secrecy required if having multiple years of monster fighting and subsequent NDAs and the trauma associated therein. They're older and more settled and ready for an Adult Relationship.

Corroded Coffin is gaining traction and doing really well and the internet is still a brave new frontier, so Steve says to Eddie something like "I'm going to see if there's some message boards about you 🥰" and find them he sure does. So he makes accounts and posts under the username EddiesOnlyGroupie because he's hilarious and also the mods banned him from using EddieMunsonsHusband (he figured it was fine on the internet because nobody actually knew who he was but APPARENTLY NOT homophobia lives on in the digital age). He gets pretty well known in the Corroded Coffin fandom, most assuming he's a woman because he will go off on how hot Eddie looked at a gig. Like. Saying unhinged internet shit because 1) true and 2) he and Eddie think it's so funny. Everyone kinda believes the groupie thing too because of all the performance pics he's able to post and how he'll sometimes offer tidbits if knowledge about the band.

When they transition from chatrooms to livejournal etc he follows, with the same username. He's kind of a legend by the mid aughts. EOG is the acronym people use when discussing theories on his identity, and he's like "guys I'm literally his only groupie it's self explanatory. Guys why don't you believe me Eddie hasn't slept with anyone but me since 1992. We're basically married". He goes "it's not a mystery we literally are in love and Jeff and I go to Cubs games and cry when they inevitably lose together. Gareth is Godfather to my cats" (Eddie is still offended that he was not named Sassafras and Moonshine's godfather when Steve and Robin adopted them in '89). No one believes him.

Possibly because he still thirsts after Eddie and whenever someone posts a new Eddie pic those in the know wait for him to pop up with comments like "I want to bite his neck omg" "he has no ass but nobody is perfect I'll settle between his thighs anyway" and "literally a crime I am not married to him right now what the fuck" As twitter grows he swoops in to grab his handle, and follows a bunch of other CC fan accounts (some of them old friends, some of them new to the scene)(EOG 100% has his own fanlore page, which also has speculation on who he is and how he gets all the bts pics. It also doesn't believe when he says what it says on the tin. He's Eddie's only groupie.)

tumblr and tiktok come round and Steve is like. Openly horny on main. He's seen some shit go down on the internet but he's still commenting on Eddie fan edits that are title shit like "why am I attracted to this middle-aged white man" and "retro cc fancam" with things like "I'd let him lick the inside of my ear and only bring it up to tease him on special occasions" "his FINGERS" "back in '89 Jeff and Howie and Claire staged a mutany over this song because they were 'sick of Eddie only writing about biting bats' lmao" and "Jeff is my favourite member of cc"(just to stir the pot)

Eddie comes out in the 2010's and he's like "yeah I've been in a long term relationship with someone who is usually mostly a man kinda (gender is fucky) for the past twenty years, lol. His name's Steve. I love him a lot even if he mocks me online." and of course EOG comments "the mods of that old message board should have let me keep my original handle of EddieMunsonsHusband. When're you gonna make it reality, Munson? smh" and everyone is like Huh?? EOG is a MAN? And he's like yeah? Sometimes?? Not always?

(He 100% thinks this is him telling people he's Eddie's Steve. They don't get the message)

Anyways life goes on Steve continues to thirst under pictures of Eddie, he has his pronouns and name in his bio on twitter (Steve, he/him, she/her, Eddie Munson's first and only groupie 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️ ) and continues to post behind the scenes photos that shockingly few people question (she always says "because I'm his groupie" though. He and Eddie think this is VERY funny and also true. Robin groans. They've been making the same joke for two decades.) and people believe it because Eddie has interacted EOG sometimes, liking photos or videos, commenting sometimes. (Steve has a more professional realname account that he rarely uses but Eddie usually tags Steve there)

And THEN Internet user EddiesOnlyGroupie says he's taking a few weeks off for her honeymoon because "I'm finally marrying the man of my dreams!" And people are happy for him but also bummed because Eddie is also taking a two week hiatus but EOG promises wedding and honeymoon photos. (Face reveal! Sorta!)((he doesn't get why people are excited because he's pretty sure he's been in a lot of Eddie's recent pictures, but whatever)

Imagine the Internet's surprise when Eddie Munson posts a collection of pictures spanning '86 to his 2016 wedding of him and Steve, including one of Steve looking seriously at an old desktop computer, captioned "Steve starting his internet career" and tags EOG.

Steve qrt with "I told yall. I'm his only groupie, and they should've let me keep EddieMunsonsHusband even if they WERE homophobic. Because now it's TRUE"

Niche internet community drama chaos ensues.

[nennuit]

Had this “Steve only hates impersonal nicknames” idea in my notes for a while and then after seeing @cholvoq​ ‘s wonderful art I had to turn it into a real thing for Valentine’s Day. This is 2.4k, i’m SO sorry

Eddie’s a nickname guy. It’s always Dusty this and Gare-Bear that and JeffJeff here and Bobbie there and it’s Mikey and Maxxii and Nance-pants and Johnny and… big boy?

Him being a nickname guy makes it near impossible to hide his crushes. Thankfully, Steve had been really cool about it. Sure, he seemed a little stunned, but Eddie still had all his teeth in place by the end of that interaction, so he had called that a win.

He hadn’t known then that Steve was… different. Or he was starting to see it but what he thought was shocking then had really been just the tip of the iceberg. He hadn’t expected Steve to be nice. Or funny, or caring, or protective, or understanding.

He had learned all of that after everything. During chats on Hellfire nights while the kids cleaned up after themselves, during hangouts at the diner with Robin and Nancy, during Saturday afternoons when he went to pick out a movie only to end up talking with Steve, their conversation flowing until it was cut short by Steve’s shift ending.

Seguir leyendo

[nennuit]

It's just another boring day running the store, even more boring than normal since Robin’s out sick. There’s not any kids around either, big field trip at school, so the beanbags by the bookshelves have been empty all day.

Steve’s working his shift alone. It’s all very mundane, just waiting for the clock to run out.

That is, until the door flies open.

It’s just a flash of black clothing and the clinking of metal accessories as the figure suddenly barrels right over the counter. Steve shouts and immediately reaches for the nail bat— yes the nail bat— he keeps behind the register. He brandishes it menacingly as the person stands upright.

It’s a man, with crazy wild hair and even crazier eyes, widening comically at the bat and holding his hands up. He squawks at Steve.

“Whoa, hey! What is that thing?! What the hell, man!?”

“Don’t ‘what the hell’ me, I’m the one what the helling you here!” That doesn’t come out like Steve intended, but he glares all the same at the confused look the man gives.

“What!”

“Just tell me what you think you’re doing here, punk!”

Something like disbelief comes over his face, and he lowers his hands to gesture over himself, “Dude, I’m clearly a metalhead.”

“I’m gonna put some metal in your head if you don’t start talking,” Steve snarls, gripping the bat tighter.

“Okay, okay!” His hands flail, shifty eyes bugging out the front windows before he suddenly crouches down behind the counter, “Just let me hide out here for a minute, there’s— people after me that I can’t deal with right now.”

“Oh yeah, what 'people’?” Steve narrows his eyes at the expensive looking chain dangling around his neck, some kind of red pendant on it, “Did you get caught stealing from the jewelry store next door?”

Again, he gives that look, not the typical guilty look when Steve chases down the usual petty thief, he just looks like he can’t believe he’s in this situation, as if he’s not the one that hopped over the counter.

“I didn’t steal anything, alright? I just need to wait here until it’s all clear.”

“Mr. Simon is chasing you, isn’t he?” Steve groans, lowering the bat to rub his hand over his face. He hates that old jeweler, always complaining about Steve taking his parking space when he doesn’t even have a car to use it. “Christ, okay. He might have a war flashback and actually kill you, and I already have enough shit on my conscience. You got two minutes.”

“Five?”

“One and a half.”

“Okay, Jesus. Two please and I’ll let you have a picture after, whatever you want.”

Steve thinks it’s a weird thing to offer at first, then it clicks.

“Yeah, I do want a picture ‘cause your ass is going on the banned wall,” Steve points the bat to the array of photos on the back wall, right up there with the little pricks that kept asking what shelf the skin mags were on, and the asshole that was rude to Robin once.

The guy looks over and he… chuckles, “Starting to think I picked the wrong counter to hide behind.”

Steve glares when he’s met with the stranger’s smile, “You think?”

“The rainbows in the window caught my eye, thought they were pretty cool,” he gives Steve a kind, but measured look, “I’m assuming the bat is for people who don’t?”

That rocks Steve a little. The subtle touches of rainbow decorating the storefront were Robin’s idea, just a welcoming sign for those who know what it means, who need it. Which, apparently, is this guy too, dark eyes watching as Steve makes the connection.

Plus, the kind of kids that get off the bus and hang out in the beanbag corner of the bookstore, also tend to be the type that bullies flock to, but not here, Steve makes sure of that. Not with the nail bat, that’s for things more serious than school bullies.

“Is that who’s after you?” Steve asks, shooting a look out the window. His gut starts to twist in some form of empathy for the guy, it would make sense why he hurtled inside so quickly.

“No, nothing like that, but I still need to lay low for a second.”

Steve squints, empathy gone.

“Okay well, the bat is for thieves too, then. You know, Mr. Simon might be a mean old shit, but he doesn’t deserve to be stolen from. He’s got a family, dude.”

“Well, isn’t that admirable. Look, I appreciate what you’re doing here, the whole local protector, vigilante bat-man thing, it’s pretty badass,” A pun. This would-be thief really just made a damn pun about Steve’s would-be murder weapon. “But I didn’t take anything from anyone, Stevie boy.”

Pun forgotten, Steve grips the bat tighter, demanding to know, “How do you know my name?”

Another annoying smile as the guy gestures to his chest, where Steve’s name tag is. Right.

“Tell me yours,” he counters, noticing how the guy’s smile falters, looking hesitant, crouching lower, hiding. Steve sighs, “I’m not gonna go to the cops, man. Your face is going on the wall and your name is going on the list.”

This guy is just smirking way too much for someone in his situation, “Wow, I must be real special then. It’s Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

“Okay then, Munson,” Steve narrows his eyes at the necklace again, “If you didn’t take anything, then where’d you get that chain, huh?”

This Eddie looks caught off guard, his mouth already formed into some excuse that Steve cuts off.

“Just hand it over,” he flourishes the bat this time, satisfied with how Eddie looks both impressed and intimidated. His eyes stay on Steve as he removes the necklace, dark and alive with something, like he’s enjoying this somehow.

“Okay fine, easy with that thing, big boy. You can keep it for now as collateral for letting me stay.”

He passes Steve the chain, and Steve doesn’t want to fuss with his jean pockets so he just slips it over his head, Eddie’s eyes tracking where it falls around his neck. He sees it’s not a pendant like he thought, it’s a red guitar pick resting against his chest. Not Simon’s usual merchandise, but the chain definitely is, it’s expensive, Steve can tell.

“But, as good as it looks on you, I’m gonna need it back when you realize it’s not stolen.”

Annoyance. That’s the flare of heat Steve feels, it has to be, this whole exchange is getting him hot under the collar. He obviously knows Eddie’s hitting on him, not the first time he caught someone up to no good, and they clocked the rainbows and tried to flirt their way out of it. And this guy isn’t bad looking, maybe under different circumstances in a nice bar somewhere, Steve would flirt right back, but he’s not falling for it now.

He’s glad the couple minutes are up, doesn’t know why he checks out the windows to make sure it’s all clear for Eddie.

Bat still in hand, he makes Eddie stand while he fishes out the polaroid camera behind the counter.

“Don’t you want to get in the photo?” Eddie asks.

Steve’s free hand snaps to his hip, “And why would I want that?”

“Right,” Eddie grins, sticking out his tongue when Steve holds up the camera, throwing up that same hand sign that Dustin keeps making nowadays when the flash goes off. “No fun kissin’ a picture of yourself. Or, maybe it is when you look like you do.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Playing cute with me isn’t gonna get you off the hook,” and sits the newly printed polaroid on the counter, ignoring the way his cheeks feel hot. It’s just the adrenaline coming down.

He finally puts the bat away, still watching warily as Eddie comes closer, picking up a pen and scribbling what looks to be his phone number on the photo.

“Gotta say, this was nice, Steve. I’d love to do it again sometime,” he smirks, hopping back over the counter the same way he came, “I mean it though, give me a call about that necklace. What kinda rockstar would I be without my lucky guitar pick?”

“Yeah right,” Steve snorts, “I don’t wanna catch you around here again. I never forget a face, Munson, especially not yours.”

“I’m flattered,” he pats his hand over his heart, then throws Steve a wave as he pushes open the door, “Keep that up and you can call me anytime.”

One last wink that sort of makes Steve’s chest flutter and he’s gone. It’s nothing, just some crazy guy that annoyed him half to death, and he hopes he never sees again.

When his shift ends later that evening, he goes next door to try and return the necklace to Mr. Simon, but he insists that it wasn’t stolen from his shop.

Steve’s starting to think he may have accidentally robbed someone at nail-bat-point. But it’s not possible because that’s not possible. How do you accidentally rob someone? What crime would he even be charged with? A little oopsie burglary? Ridiculous.

No, the old man is just out of his mind and doesn’t recognize his own shit. It’s the only thing that would make sense in that whole bizarre situation. Who else would Eddie have been ‘hiding’ from? Why else was it so urgent that he handed over the necklace without much fuss?

It’s not until days later when Dustin hops onto the counter that Steve really realizes.

“Steve,” Dustin says slowly, “Why am I looking at a picture of Eddie freaking Munson on the banned wall?”

Steve looks around, “That guy? You know him? I caught him stealing from Mr. Simon the other day.”

“You— He— What!? He was here?” Dustin sputters, “Steve, I’m 1000% sure he wasn’t stealing shit! What did you do to him?”

“I did my job, Henderson. I banned him from the store and got back the necklace he took— What— Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Steve.”

It’s over the course of the next conversation, getting completely chewed up and spit out by Dustin that Steve learns he didn’t just accidentally rob someone.

“STEVE.”

He accidentally robbed a world famous rockstar.

Steve spends the next few days so deeply embarrassed that he can’t even dare to pick up the phone. He gave Eddie such a hard time when all he needed was a place to hide out so he didn’t get mobbed by fans and paparazzi.

Looking back on it, knowing what he knows now, Eddie handled it with such grace. Steve’s even more ashamed, not because of the whole rockstar thing, but because it's shitty to hurl accusations and a deadly nail bat at anyone, and take their stuff on top of that.

He finally bolsters up the courage to dial the number. As soon as he hears ‘what’s up, it’s Munson’ on the other line, he lets loose a string of apologies and a promise to give the necklace back as soon as he can.

It gets cut short with that same chuckle that still gives him a warm chill even down the phone line.

“Keep it. Looks better on you,” he can hear the smile in Eddie’s voice, “But that means you’re gonna have to come to my show tonight, can’t play without my lucky guitar pick here with me, can I?”

[nennuit]

Wayne's seen enough of Steve Harrington in recent times to know just how easily the boy gets pushed around. He's got a good head on his shoulders that one, but Wayne often wishes that the kid would build up a little bit of resistance to the many whims and requests that surrounds him.

Because 'cept for the occasional eyeroll or muttered comment, Steve Harrington never complains. Not when he's driving those kids around or running little errands for the first person who asks.

He's surrounded by people like those kids and the Buckley girl, who always have so much to say that Steve never stands a chance in the face of their demands. Doesn't even seem to try anymore.

And of course, people like Eddie. His own nephew, who is so stubbornly dedicated to his own spheres of interest that a guy like Steve is forced to bend with the motions of his world.

It's no wonder that when the two announce their upgraded relationship status (thank the heavens, Wayne is sure he's lost a few years to stolen glances and blatant pining), the first thing Wayne does is pull his boy aside.

"Listen, Steve's a great guy." Wayne says, both hands gripped firmly on Eddie's shoulders. Because he's spent most of his life caring for the mouthy little rugrat, and Steve Harrington, whose parents are as far down on Wayne's liked people's list as anyone can get, deserves to be looked after once in a while.

"You know I care about you kid, but try to take it easy on him okay? You gotta let him have his way once in a while."

The look Eddie gives him is more confused than offended, Wayne had half expected at least one sarcastic– playful or not–comment about picking the wrong side.

But Eddie just snorts, quietly at first, before throwing his head back with an amused laugh.

"Oh Wayne. You don't know Steve." He says, pats Wayne's shoulder in a way that makes him feel older than he actually is.

"If he wants his way, trust me he'll get it." is all Eddie says before slinking away.

Wayne doesn't really understand what Eddie means until a few months later.

They're at a thanksgiving dinner held by the Byers, and it's only been a few weeks since the clinic doctor had diagnosed Eddie's anemia. Which honestly wouldn't have been that big of an issue if his boy wasn't the definition of a stubborn infant.

Wayne had learned pretty early of Eddie's hate for all things vaguely medicine related. In all the years he's raised the kid, there have only been 2 successful instances of getting him to swallow a pill- both consisting of clever food disguises that never worked more than once.

The habit had grown over the years and solidified into yet another one of Eddie's many unhealthy habits. Wayne is sure he'd have lost his mind by now if his nephew didn't have an immune system to match the heavens.

But naturally, this all means that the prescribed iron supplements Eddie is supposed to take with every meal is all but abandoned in it's practically full state. Wayne's tried everything. Asking nicely, slipping the bottle of pills in places he /knows/ Eddie will see them, pretending it's his dying wish– the last one had caused a bit of a ruckus for entirely unrelated reasons (Sheesh, can't a man use his age as a weapon once in a while?).

Wayne doesn't even know why he's bothered to bring the supplements tonight. He knows Eddie won't be taking them.

Still, since it's only right to try anyways, Wayne slips the small bottle across the table, watches as Eddie pauses mid conversation with the Will kid to send it a scandalized scowl.

And that was that.

Well. It was supposed to be that.

Because Steve had caught the exchange.

Robin is still chattering energetically to Nancy when he picks up the bottle, turns it around in his hand as he reads the labels, them taps Eddie's shoulder with it.

Wayne observes as his boy grabs the bottle absentmindedly while Steve starts to turn back to Robin.

But then Eddie is placing it back on the table, at a distance away from him, and Steve honest to God, freezes mid turn.

The expression that settles on his usually laxed features is nothing short of frightening. It's targeted and frigid, those soft eyes hardening in a way that Wayne just /knows/ Eddie can feel. Because his Nephew's large, energetic gestures die down, the smile on his face gradually turning more forced as Steve glares daggers into the back of his head.

It takes only a quick sideways glance.

The moment Eddie meets those eyes, Wayne watches Steve do what he hadn't managed to for many years, in a single sitting.

There's an apologetic smile on Eddie's face as he reaches for the pills, and Steve doesn't even seem forgiving, only looks him up and down like he's daring Eddie to defy him again.

Just like that, Steve turns back to Robin and Nancy, expression morphing into a lazy smile in the blink of an eye as he inserts himself smoothly into their conversation.

And as Wayne watches Eddie down a pill, looking significantly more humbled even as he scrunches his face and turns to answer Will's question, for the first time, he feels like he should be scared for his boy's sake.

At the same time, Wayne can't help but wonder how quickly he can possibly convince Steve to move in.

[nennuit]

"i need a favor."

it's simple enough for steve to hear even over the loud music in the club, and it definitely grabs his attention away from where he was staring blankly into the dancing crowd. he pulls his eyes to the person standing in front of him, gaze trailing over their form before settling on their face. he's cute, steve thinks, with his curly dark hair and big brown eyes that he could see himself getting lost in. he's cute enough for steve to listen to whatever favor he could possibly need.

"umm, hello to you too?" steve says it like a question, his eyebrows quirked up and a smile pulling at one side of his mouth. "what kind of favor might that be?"

the stranger smiles and sits in the seat next to steve, setting his beer on the table beside steve's nearly finished jack and coke. he's closer than he was before and steve can appreciate his face even better this way.

"it's my ex. you see," the stranger slings an arm around the back of steve's chair, pulls himself close so that he isn't having to scream as loudly over the booming club beats. "he's here and i knew it would be stupid to think i wouldn't run into him in the only queer club around, yet here he is. and here i am."

"is there supposed to be a favor in there somewhere?"

the stranger grins and steve suddenly gets the feeling he's a bird who's been cornered by a cat.

"well, i was hoping you might be able to help me. he knows i have a... weakness for pretty boys and you just happen to be the prettiest one here."

steve's heart thumps in his chest, strong and impatient as he watches the neon lights flash off this guy's teeth. he always thought he was the smooth one with all his charm and charisma, but this stranger was sitting next to steve like it was any other day and not like he had the possibility to turn his world upside down.

"help you how?"

the stranger's grin grew wider and his eyes not so subtly flicked down to watch steve's lips. "kissing would be a good start, then letting me drag you to the dance floor so he could see us. and maybe if you're feeling a little crazy, we leave together, make it seem like you're coming home with me. he's watching us right now, you know?"

steve gives him a blank stare as he tries to not let it show just how much fun he thinks it all could be. he's there alone, anyway, trying to drown his loneliness in his friend jack daniels, so what's stopping him from playing a little bit of pretend?

"and what's in it for me?" is what steve finally gets out, his breath stuttering minutely in his chest when he feels a palm cover his leg.

"what do you want?" the fingers squeeze around his knee.

it makes steve stop and think for a moment. he thinks long and hard about material things like at least 3 drinks bought for him or dinner after they escape together or paying his cover so they can get in to the bar down the road that plays shitty music but has a good atmosphere. but there's one thing steve could really use, something he doesn't get the chance for, something that this random guy's money wouldn't have to cover.

"an adventure."

there's no way to tell who moves first, whether it was steve fisting his hand into the guy's hair to close the distance between them or if it was the firm pull on his leg that turns him towards the stranger. it's messy, right off the bat, with a tongue pressing insistently against steve's lips that he's happy to meet with his own. the hand on his leg is a grounding touch that keeps steve from floating away, warm and strong and there.

the man's other hand wraps awkwardly around to rest on steve's waist as to bring him in closer and the force of it has steve stumbling out of chair and settling instead on the guy's lap. two hands wrap around his waist now and his own go back into the guy's hair, threading through the stands and holding on firmly.

"okay yeah, you were definitely the right choice for this, holy shit," the guy breaks away to catch his breath and grin at steve who sends him a grin in return. "you are so..."

he doesn't finish, lets his lips say the words he couldn't as he connects them with steve's once more. it's hot, both in temperature and otherwise. steve can feel a bead of sweat start to roll down his back as they kiss and roll against each other for lord knows how long. one of the stranger's hands comes to rest just above steve's ass and it has him pushing back into the touch before he can tell himself to stop.

"dance. we uhh," steve says breathlessly as he pulls away from the man. his eyes are hooded and his lips are slick and kissed red, the flush on his face visible even under the dark club lights. steve thinks he might already be a little bit in love. "you said we have to dance."

the hand that was trailing down to his ass makes its way to it's destination and presses firmly, so steve follows, lets himself be manhandled until they're sitting chest pressed to heaving chest.

"sorry sweetheart, you aren't moving anywhere just quite yet."

lips connect to his jaw and it feels like it's exactly where he's supposed to be. steve pushes into the man's space, gets them as close as possible to savor the moment. he doesn't get to have fun, not much anymore at least, with his job keeping him so busy he hardly even gets to see his friends. it's nice to push every real life responsibility to the side and be in the moment with a random man from a club.

"so what does he look like, your ex?" steve mummers against his ear, low and sultry. "is he looking at us now?"

he feels the man chuckle against him before kissing his way up his neck. "he's pretty standard looking, don't think i could describe him to you if i tried."

"okay but," he's cut off by lips pressing quickly onto his own before steve pulls away once more. "i need to know who i'm putting a show on for."

the man sighs, rests his forehead against steve's collarbone for a beat before biting at it playfully. "let's just say you're putting on a great show regardless of who it's for."

steve pulls back even further, watching the man roll his eyes as he tries to follow him with his mouth. "and i thank you for that, but really, where is he?"

the man pauses and every bit of confidence that was on his face melts away until he looks younger, looks almost nervous. he sighs again and drops his hands from where they were kneading into steve's sides before running them through his hair with a sad sounding chuckle.

"he's nowhere."

now it's steve's turn to pause. his thighs that were clenched so tightly around the man's legs release and he slumps down with a frown pulling at his mouth and arms crossing over his chest.

"explain."

"i just," the man winces, face crinkling up before settling back into something more neutral. "you're like insanely hot, which i'm sure you know, and i needed something so i could talk to you so-"

"so you lied? there's no ex?"

"... there's no ex."

steve's done more thinking in the last 30 minutes than he expected to in the entire evening. he didn't come out to a gay bar to think about anything and yet here is, contemplating a fucking pros and cons list about where to go from there. does he yell, punch him for lying, storm out and end up back home all alone in a empty apartment? it would serve the guy right, letting him stew in his guilt for lying so he could make out with someone.

"i'm steve," he says after making up his mind, hand extended out in front of him.

the stranger grabs it shyly, shaking his hand up and down slowly while he stares at steve. "i'm eddie?"

"is that a question?"

"no, i'm just-" he cuts himself off and shakes his head as if to clear it, pinning steve with a confused glare. "you're not mad?"

"mad, no. at least i don't think so. confused as to why you think you couldn't just talk to me, yeah."

the man, eddie, runs a hand down his face and pulls it away with a cheeky grin that makes steve smile at him back. "i'm sure you've looked in a mirror! you know why i couldn't just talk to you!"

it has steve laughing, full belly ache inducing laughing, in eddie's lap in a gay bar on a night that he planned to waste by being drowned in self-pity. he doesn't think he's ever had a weirder night and it's funny. he lifts his leg and stands up, watching the smile disappear from eddie's face to be replaced with a frown. he reaches down and grabs eddie's hand, pulling him to his feet and watching a beautiful smile spread back across the other man's face.

they're the same height, he realizes, as he presses his mouth to eddie's ear.

"i think you owe me a dance. and," he pauses, looks eddie in the eye and lets his hand travel to eddie's ass to pull them as close as possible. "-an adventure."

[nennuit]

robin is using everything in her power to find steve a boyfriend. now that she had finally gotten her head out of her ass to see that nancy didn’t find her rambling annoying, but charming and that got comfy in their new relationship, she wanted nothing more than the same for her best friend.

for too long, robin has stood back and watched as steve got used and played again and again. too many men and women coming around and flashing him pretty smiles and saying all the right things just to take him on a date, get him to drop his pants, and then he’d never hear from them again. she sees the way it effects him, the way he seems to be deteriorating right before her eyes.

he’s given up flirting with the babes that walk in the front door of their job, choosing to stay behind the counter. he leans on his fist, flips through a magazine and only glances up to say hello.

unless, of course, that customer is eddie munson. eddie, who will come in so quiet and lean down in steve’s space to break him from his trance. and steve will smile. and he’ll blush. and he’ll giggle and look away so eddie can’t see how flustered he is. and he waves the late fees every time. and she continues to watch.

robin is using everything in her power to get steve eddie as a boyfriend. sweet eddie who holds the door for steve and makes him smile brighter than robin has ever seen.

and it’s this reason that she was able to convince steve to join her and nancy at a bar in indy and invite eddie along so he “doesn’t third wheel”. meaning it’s also this reason she’s currently tearing apart steve’s closet for the perfect “date me!” outfit. because if he pulls up to this place in a polo and robin’s the one who brought him? she could never go back.

“robs, i can’t wear these.” steve is bright red in the face as he looks over his shoulder in the mirror. she got him in the tightest jeans he owns, the denim light and hugging every single curve from the waist down. he’s lucky he can even breathe in them. he hates how his butt is on display and there’s no room in his crotch to move comfortably and what if his knees get cold where they’re exposed to the outside elements?

“you absolutely can and you absolutely will. turn around and let me pretend you’re a girl so i can drool over your ass,” robin whistles from her place on his bed. she’s surrounded by piles of clothes, a multicolored avalanche of preppy and she just might go insane. “now you need a shirt.”

“i don’t get why you’re putting in all this effort. i’m just gonna embarrass myself in front of him. especially if i try to make a move,” steve grumbles and tugs his current sweatshirt over his head. robin’s got a pair of scissors from his bedside drawer and a clearly well-loved pink floyd t-shirt in hand. “what are you doing?”

“how much do you love this shirt?”

“robin don’t you-“

“how much, steven.” her gaze is firm and he knows it best to just give in. he rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a huff and robin smiles back at him in victory. he’s turned back to the mirror, listening to the sound of slicing fabric behind him.

she tosses it to him once she’s done and he pulls it over his head. dear god his waist is on display. and the trail of hair down to- oh this is humiliating. “robin.”

“steve!” she squeals, clapping her hands together.

“robin,” he whines, throwing his head back and tugging at the jagged edge of the shirt.

“steve!” she answers in the same tone with a bright smile. “you’re so hot! eddie is going to eat you up and if he doesn’t, then somebody else absolutely will.”

“you think so?” steve looks at her through the mirror. a soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips and she can’t help but smile back, full of love and warmth.

“i know so.”

[nennuit]

I like to think that Steve could make ANY kind of DND character to join in, just some complete monstrosity that goes against all the rules ever, and no matter who the DM, Eddie or Will, they'd just:

"I'll allow it." Cause they've both had (or in Eddie's case: have) a huge crush on him and Mike will always be sat there just unamused.