#pushing ace steve

[weepinghyacinth]

Aro flag coulorpicked from Steve Harrington

[shaxza]

[sp0o0kylights]

We often see Robin focused on her own love life (or lack thereof) while Steve collects more You Suck tallies on the board, but imagine Steve does find a girl he dates that he hits it off with?

He aces dates 1 through 5 and suddenly he's around a little less, his new relationship looking serious, and Robin isn't jealous but--

She is worried.

That's her best friend. Her platonic soulmate!

She doesn't think Steve would ever stop being those things--Her dingus has a soft squishy heart under all that hair.

Problem is, Robin's seen this play out before.

Had band friends drift away because someone's dating someone else and suddenly they're all wrapped up in each other's lives, friends pushed to the wayside.

She doesn't say anything though. Knows how lonely Steve is. How much he wants (and deserves) a relationship.

Then the worst possible fucking thing happens: Steve's new girl telling him she isn't comfortable with Robin.

That she doesn't believe girls and guys can be "just friends" and would Steve please stop seeing Robin so much? Please?

Her friends even saw him taking Robin out to lunch yesterday and thought he was cheating!

Of course she knows Steve isn't cheating. He'll prove it to her, right? By letting Robin know they can only be coworkers? And their friendship?

Robin hears all this at her and Steve's next shared work shift, and she feels the floor of her world give out beneath her.

Fear and hurt crawling up her throat because of course Steve can't tell whatever her name is why Robin will never date him.

Of course this chick clearly isn't taking Steve's regular excuses as an answer, and--oh God, what if Robin is losing him, isn't she?

Then Steve's done talking, clearly expecting Robin to say something, and oops she may have been panicking and not listening there at the end but she manages a very choked up;

"I mean if you think shes like, the one..." because what is she supposed to say!?

And Steve, the only person Robin's met who craves a relationship as much as she does if not more, frowns at her with a bitchy little twist to his face and says: "What part of "so I told her that was ridiculous and we broke up" didn't you hear?"

Robin gasps a breath, the world stable once again. She doesn't know when she started crying but she does register Steve's panic when he clocks it, panicking and pulling her into a hug.

"Oh my God did you think I'd agree with her!?" He says and he sounds a little hurt about it, she'll have to fix that, but presently all Robin can do is cling to her best friend and sink deep into the knowledge that he really won't leave her.

Even for the things he wants in life the most.

[yelenasdiary]

Hey, i'm the same one with the idea.

So i was thinking, the Marvel universe.

Wanda had the boys, but they are Vision's kids. Yn is their bestfriend(Wanda and Nat) and played like cupid, you know, they were a couple thanks to her.

So well, I was thinking something about being reincarnated, i don't truly believe in it but in a history i like that type of things.

Wanda was pregnant again, with a baby girl, and in the time Wanda was suppose to gave birth, Yn was in a mission but it went wrong, she got shot and even if they try to "fix" everything, they couldn't and she died.

In the moment, the doctors were trying to do their things, Wanda has the labor contractions and finally gave birth.

So the thing is, the "soul" of Yn went to the baby, or something like that.(I don't know how to say those things, i try my best to write in english hahaha)

And Wanda and Nat found about it and named the baby after Yn.

While the little Yn was growing up, they saw how many things she did in the same way as Yn, and of course they talked about her with the little one.

And basically, you can change everything you want and need to write the story, if you want to write it, of course. Thank you. Have a good day, or night.

Watching Over You

Pairing: WandaNat x Fem! Avenger! Reader (Platonic), Mentions of Wanda x Vision. 

Summary: Somethings in this world are unexplainable but what if that one thing helped bring two people together to start a new life

Angst, Comfort

Warnings: Character Death, Mentions of guns, and Child Birth | 1.5K

Translations: Detka (baby),

AC: I love this idea, it’s something different! I hope you enjoy this, I do apologise if this isn’t as exciting as you hoped. Thank you for sending it! x 

The blue sky started to look dim, your body turning cold as Clint and Steve rushed you to the quinjet. Steve carrying you bridal style while Clint cleared the path, the soldier laid you down on one of the uncomfortable beds and strapped you down tightly. “It’ll be okay! We’ll get you home” you heard Steve’s faint voice before things went black. Clint wasting no time starting up the jet to rush you home to medical. 

Meanwhile, your best friends were preparing for the next chapter in their lives. You could say you were cupid in Wanda and Natasha’s love story. After Wanda and Vision got divorced, Wanda struggled to get out of the loveless slump she was in. You did everything you could think of to help her get over Vision, but it was hard when her two eldest children were fathered by him. But with some time and patience, Wanda opened herself up to dating again. Did she expect her next marriage to be with a woman? No, but she was so thankful that you helped her see just how much Natasha loved and cared for the mother of two. 

It wasn’t exactly easy for Nat either. Her feelings for Wanda started well before the brunette got divorced and watching Wanda have a little family with somebody else pushed Natasha’s hopes for a family of her own further and further to the back of her mind. But now? Now Natasha and Wanda were hours away from welcoming their first child together. 

Without you and setting up a cheeky few blind dates and listening for hours on end to your friends feelings for one another, you weren’t sure what the two would be doing now. But it’s been 2 years since they got married and a lot of happy tears on the way. 

“Something isn’t right!” Wanda said in a panic, “Nat, something isn’t right, I can feel it!” She added, rubbing her hand over her swollen stomach. Wanda’s water broke a couple of hours ago, but she wasn’t dilated enough to be taken to the delivery room. Natasha comforted her wife by taking her hand, “have some ice chips detka, everything is okay, I promise” she replied before offering Wanda a cup of ice chips. Wanda saw that Natasha didn’t quite understand her wife’s worries, she slowly shook her head, “it’s not the baby, something just doesn’t feel right” Wanda said, her eyes building with tears. 

“Do you want me to get a nurse?” Natasha asked. Wanda shook her head, “please don’t leave me” Wanda replied, looking up at Natasha. Although Wanda’s current state of mind was confusing Nat a little, she sat down beside Wanda’s bed and quickly changed the topic to keep her wife distracted. 

“So, do you think is going to get jealous first? Tommy or Billy?” She joked, causing Wanda to playful slap her hand away from her. 

----

What seemed like forever had passed, Wanda was only seconds away from giving birth. Natasha by her side holding her hand has her wife almost broke her knuckles in pain and while the delivery room was full of excitement and happiness, another room was full of the exact opposite. 

Tony, Steve, Clint, Maria, Thor, Bucky and Pepper sat around the large table in one of the many conference rooms. Nothing but silence was shared, tissues in the center of the table that mainly Maria and Pepper reached for, the guys looking at one another, all wondering how to process the news. 

“We have to tell them” Steve broke the silence. 

“Last update I had was Wanda was taken into the delivery room. Nat said she’d keep me posted but I don’t think we tell them yet” Clint replied. 

“We can’t not tell them; they’re going to know. Especially Wanda” Maria chipped in, whipping her tears on a tissue. 

“How about we just deal with it when need too, right now, we should probably go to the hospital and be there for them” Pepper suggested, “nothing we do is going to change anything” she added. Tony nodded in agreement, “if anything, we tell Nat first. We shouldn’t tell Wanda right now” he inserted. 

The small team came to an agreement, it wasn’t easy, and they wished things were different, that they would have better news but the best thing they could all do right now was to be there for each other. 

Steve knocked softly on Wanda’s door in the hospital before slowly opening it, everybody had a soft smile on their faces and even through the news they had to keep to themselves for now, the excitement of meeting a new little family member helped make things feel a little better. 

“Hey guys!” Wanda smiled softly at her extended family. Natasha was gently rocking their new-born daughter in her arms as the others entered the room. Clint stepped close to Natasha, looking down at his friend’s little baby. “She’s beautiful” he whispered softly.  

“Do you want to hold her?” Nat offered with a sense of proudness in her voice, Clint nodded, “I’d love too” he added. 

“Hey, where’s Y/n?” Wanda asked, looking at everybody. Thor’s eyes dropped immediately to his feet which only made Wanda tilt her head slightly to the side, “Nat, uh, there’s something I need to run by you, do you mind if we step outside for a moment?” Steve quickly said before Wanda could question anything. Wanda watched as Steve and Natasha left the room, the others quickly turning the attention back to the baby in Clint’s arms. 

“Does she have a name yet?” Maria asked. 

“We have a couple of ideas, but nothing seems to feel right at the moment” Wanda said, smiling tiredly at her. 

“Steve, what is it?” Natasha asked, a sparkle in her eye that Steve hated to break. “We thought it would be best to tell you first” he started. 

“Tell me what?” Natasha frowned slightly, trying to read Steve for an answer. 

“Y/n is gone. There was a situation on the mission, and she was shot, she never made it off the table Nat” 

Natasha was in disbelief as she cocked a brow at her friend, “you know this is a really shitty time to play a joke like that. She’s never miss this” 

Steve stood in silence, allowing the news to sink in until it did, and Natasha’s eyes filled with tears. “When did Helen call time of death?” Natasha asked. “6:42pm” Steve answered, unaware that the little fact would cause Nat to break completely. He caught her in his arms, comforting her until she was able to gather herself once more. “I t-think you guys should go” she looked up at him, “I need to tell Wanda” 

“I understand” Steve replied before the two of them entered the room once again. “Alright guys, I know it’s exciting, but I think we should let Wanda get some rest and our little darling will need a feed soon” Natasha announced, any excuse to kindly ask them to leave. They understood the moment they looked at Steve, they all gave Wanda a hug before the room was just the three of them. 

----

It took a few long days for Wanda to process the news, every time she looked at her new baby, all she felt was happiness but in the short moments she was able to look into her daughter’s eyes, all she saw was you and that was the thing that troubled her a little. Not everybody believed in reincarnation, Wanda wasn’t sure she believed in it much herself but when it came to finalizing the birth certificate, it was time to give the new-born a name. 

“That can’t be right” Wanda frowned, the blue ballpoint pen hovering over the birth certificate. 

“What’s not right detka?” Natasha asked, placing her hand on Wanda’s knee under the dining room table. “Pumpkin’s time of birth, it has to be a mistake” she replied. Pumpkin being the nickname they gave their daughter until they were able to settle on a final name. 

“I was hoping that you wouldn’t notice that” Nat replied, watching as Wanda’s eyes filled with tears. She dropped the pen from her hold and ran her fingers through her hair, “our best friend died the exact same time our daughter was born” she looked to Nat, “call me crazy but this can’t be a coincidence. Every time I look into Pumpkin’s eyes, all I see is Y/n. Even her cheeky little smile makes me feel like Y/n is here” Wanda went on. 

Natasha didn’t think her wife was crazy, not for a second. “Me too” the red head admitted, bringing her hand to cup Wanda’s cheek, wiping her tears. “I know we’re stuck on a name but I can’t help but want to name her after Y/n” she added. Wanda smiled softly through her tears, “I wanted to suggest that. I would love to name her after Y/n, I think it’s a great idea” 

As time went on, little Y/n grew up knowing more and more about the Avenger she was named after, she leant about how you helped her mother’s get together, she learnt all about your favorite hobbies, likes and dislikes. There was plenty of little things that mini-Romanoff did that made everybody around her think of you, from her cheeky smile to her stubbornness and even her mischief behavior when playing with her brothers, she might be half Wanda and half Natasha but she was in many ways, a part of you.

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum of All 9

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You’re drenched. Sweat slakes on your forehead and down the back of your neck. Your chest is sticky and your clothes are damp. You grumble as you drift up to consciousness into the stolid air. Your mouth is dry your throat coarse, and your scalp slick. 

It’s so damn hot in here. You wipe the sheen from your cheek as you bend your leg higher around the edge of the blanket. You open your eyes as your skirt rides up over your ass, exposing your hot flesh to the room. The hotel room... 

You’re not alone. 

You push yourself up as the previous day washes over you. You blink dizzily as your vision clears. Your gaze clings to the man next to you. Naked, exposed except for the fortunately placed corner of the blanket across his pelvis. You gulp at the power woven into his firm muscles. 

You turn your legs over the edge of the bed and peel your thighs apart. You cross the room, groaning, and twist the dial on the air conditioner. Nothing happens. You click it back and forth groggily. 

The grunt from behind you makes you jump. You stand straight and face Rogers,as his arm fall over the edge of the bed. He stretches, arching his back, and drags his other hand over his face. 

“The hell is it so hot?” He growls. 

“AC’s broke,” you shrug. 

He turns his head and his lashes flick as he sees you. You shuffle step and stop. His eyes wander down your body. You look down and flinch. Your camisole is crooked, exposing one side of your bra and your skirt is wrinkled up above your thighs. You fix your clothes and clear your throat. 

“Great,” he sits up curls his shoulders forward as he uses his fingers to untangle his hair. “So much for that shower.” 

“Uh, yeah,” you try to smooth out the fabric of your skirt. “Shoot.” 

“Bag’s in the car,” he grumbles. He grabs a pillow and stands, shielding himself with it as he moves around. You turn away, embarrassed. 

“I could get it--” 

“Keys are on the table,” he grumbles and crosses to the bathroom. 

You flit around him and snatch up the keys. You need space as much as you need the fresh air. You step into your heels and hurry out the door. This is strange and awkward. How can he be so unbothered by all of it? And you still don’t know what this mysterious job is. 

You go down to the car and after finding the trunk empty, discover his leather bag in the back seat. It’s heavier than you expect. Probably not to him. 

You take your time going back and hesitate to enter. What if he’s just... naked... 

You enter with your eyes down. He’s on the bed, the blanket over his lap as he stares at his phone. You don’t like how familiar this is getting. 

“Here,” you put the bag by the bed. “I’ll give you the room. Guess you don’t want to waste time--” You go to grab your blouse. 

“You should wash up,” he insists. “Got a long day and important people to meet.” 

“Right, er...” you look at your blouse and your skirt, “you think there’s an iron in here?” 

He grabs the bag and lifts it onto the bed with one arm. He unzips it and pulls out a pair of folded slacks, then some more fabric; boxers you try to ignore. 

“Stay, shower,” he says. “I’ll go find something you can wear.” 

“Oh, that’s fine. I can make this work--” 

“Hey,” he says sharply. “Let’s get something straight, right now. The people we’re dealing with, you don’t argue with me in front of them. You just do what I say.” 

“Gee, okay,” you say, startled by the sudden edge in his voice. 

He sighs and unfolds the boxer. Your eyes round and quickly step around the bed. “You’re right, I'll have a shower.” 

You quickly hide in the bathroom before you can see much more. It’s only hot because of the AC, nothing else. A nice cold shower will do the trick. 

You get undressed and crank on the water. You step behind the curtain and sigh. You never knew ice cold water could be this refreshing. As it pings off your chest, you hear an odd creak. 

The curtain darkens with a silhouette on the other side. Is he... in there? You can make out his dark clothing and his vague figure. You’re all too conscious of how much he can probably see of you. 

He turns on the sink and you hear him brushing his teeth. He takes his time as he readies, entirely unfazed by the strange circumstance of it all. You shrivel under the downpour and wait him out. Or try to. 

“Oh shit,” you utter as the shower swirls and your head swims. It must be the sudden shift from hot to cold but you’re entirely off-balance. 

You reach and grab the towel bar as you tilt to the side. You lean into the curtain and your legs hit the raised lip. The plastic wraps around you as you topple and hit the floor, the rings tearing through the curtain. You’re not out, just foggy. 

“Huh?” Rogers grunts. “Hell. You okay?” 

“I’m...” you fight the curtain, “I’m good. Just... stuck.” 

He huffs again and bends to help unsheath you from the curtain. It isn’t until you’re free that you remember how exposed you are. Completely. He stares at you. Your skin is even hotter than before. His throat bobs and without looking, he reaches over you. He pulls the towel off the bar and drapes it over you. 

“Get up,” he stands straight and turns his back on you. 

The tension is as unbearable as the still heat. You cover yourself and stand. You sidle around him and out of the room. You’re mortified. Stressed. And still dizzy. 

This job is going to be even harder than you thought. Why couldn’t he just let you be? You should be headed off to a new life, instead, he’s dragging you into this one. 

[sondheim-girly]

Curtis gang post canon having a pool party at Marcia’s house (with marbit and cherrycola)

-ok so Marcia has this really big pool at her house

-and one day when her parents are away and it’s super hot, two bit convinces her to invite the gang over

-it’s chaos

-they are splashing each other and wrestling each other in the water and having sooo much fun

-ya know that game where people sit on top of each others shoulders and try and get the other person to fall into the water? They go to town with that game

-Ace is on Darry’s shoulders and soda is on Steve’s shoulders and ace and soda are pushing and shoving and going to war

-they’re having soooo much fun

-pony being scared of swimming cuz he was almost drowned by Bob is so cannon to me

-he sits with his book on a beach chair the whole time

-cherry comes over and talks with him because sorry they’re besties, but she also swims a ton

-Marcia’s always happiest when she’s swimming, and so two bit is always most in love with her when she’s swimming, so they spend the a lot of the time away from the crowd being tooth rottingly cute

-but he definitely does spend some time lowkey drowning soda, dw tho they’re doing it to each other!

-them and Steve roughhousing in the pool is so real to me

-ace also loves swimming and I think her and Marcia spend some time doing laps together

-darry falls asleep on a beach chair next to pony cuz lord knows he needs some relaxation

[ronearoundblindly]

Hideout (4.2)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader

Horny Teen, part two (see previous or series)

Summary: A late-summer heat wave hits you and Steve hard.

Warnings for smut (kinda unprotected sex, momentarily--guess that's dubcon to be safe--fingering, lots of foreplay things and dirty talk but Steve can't actually talk dirty, so...hot talk? IDK, gang, I 'bout died writing this. Prepare thy loins, babes). MINORS DNI. There is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this series is not for you! WC 3.1k

A/N: This part contains a cannibalized version of the original idea for this series, but since we've developed differently to this point, it is very different.

He calls ahead. For the first time in a year of visiting, he calls ahead and knows you aren’t working the night he’ll be here.

You work in the garden as long as you can stand before hopping in a cool shower. You aren’t even wrapped in a towel when the trill of your room phone—extension 14, as Steve now knows it—blares through multiple closed doors.

He’s checked-in, and in Room Two, but no pressure, if you want, if you don’t have plans, he’s here. It is the most adorable and awkwardest conversation of all time. It also never gets old to hear him scramble for the simplest of sentiments.

Translation: I’m excited to see you.

Your heart soars then immediately stalls in the stifling weather.

“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” you chuckle.

Of course, he opens his arms for a bear hug the instant the door labeled ‘2’ swings wide. Steve has fewer troubles with platonic affection when alone, that’s for sure, but who could blame him? You’re elated he’s here under any circumstances.

Record-setting heat this late in the summer has left all the AC units taxed to the brink, running constantly, and even with the in-room thermostat set stupidly low, a tank top and shorts is too much.

This means another first: both of you, in bed, naked.

Nothing’s happened, mind, because the swelter of the day zapped energy out of every creature for miles and miles around. The ice machine can’t keep up with eight rooms and your family needing relief from the blaze. From the bright stripe of red across Steve’s cheeks and his earthy musk, he was outside plenty. He’s wiped, too.

You wonder absently when the last time he wore cologne was and what it smelled like. Perhaps he never used it. Perhaps he misses small luxuries more than he ever realized.

Steve looks on the brink of heat-stroke, so you inched yourself onto one side of the bed to start, thinking skin-to-skin contact might be unwelcome. You barely got your palms on the sheets before he pulled you to him. You did not fight it.

It’s meant to be a profound comfort—your weight atop him—and it is.

Your cheek settles on his chest, eyes watching through the sheer curtains as dusk takes over the sky, a happy man stretched like a cat beneath you, smiling, heart beat slowing in your ear. So strong, so steady, so secure.

He’s safe. He’s comfortable. That’s all that matters.

You peer up from your perch. The thin worry lines on his forehead have relaxed. He seems younger. Freedom looks good on Steve Rogers, just as good as it looks on Captain America, maybe better.

You fall asleep straddling his hips, one knee hitched so the crook of your ankle drapes his thigh, slowly pushed up and down by his deep breaths.

You’re drifting, rocked gently by powerful waves in the nothingness of your blank mind, free like him, blooming in the warmth of a bright sun embracing you.

The glow continues until Steve gently shakes you awake.

The room is pitch black, the lights of the parking lot too muted to pass through the gossamer layer over the window.

“You’re…you were squirming a lot. Thought you might be having a nightmare,” his rough timber booms close to your ear.

“No, I—“ you wipe at your face “—I don’t think I was dreaming.”

Steve’s not so relaxed under you now. His abs quake slightly, and those slow breaths have become stunted, shallow with control.

“Did you?” you ask, looking towards his face, useless in the dark but your drowsy brain hasn’t caught up yet.

There’s a shuffling noise above you.

“Is that a ‘yes?’ Did you have a nightmare? You alright?”

The shuffling repeats, accompanied by a strangled “yes,” and you lift your arm to brace on his chest. It unhooks your leg from his, and the hard length of his erection moves from its perch at your ass, nudging the joint of your hip and thigh from below.

“Not—not a nightmare,” he whispers. “Just ignore it.”

Steve’s voice is husky, his grip on the back of your knee tight and unyielding, keeping you from trapping him between your legs.

Your impulse is to soothe him, to tell him he is fine and it is okay to be turned on, generally, when naked and pressed to someone you find attractive—hell, you definitely are—but if he wants you to ignore it, if he’d rather not, if it’s too soon or too hot (metaphorically, physically) or just too much right now, then you respect that. None of this has ever been about making him feel like how he chooses to receive affection is wrong.

Without moving any limbs, your fingers retract and relax, a gentle, nailless scratch to his broad pec beneath your hand, and his cock twitches, tapping your leg.

“Sorry,” Steve huffs.

“Do you want me to get off of you?” You suppress the urge to make a minor edit in that statement because it’s very close to what you want to do.

The shuffling noise sounds different.

“No,” he says softly.

You slide your hand up his chest to his neck and around the back of his head, petting the corner of his bearded jaw just below his ear, careful to use as few muscles as possible.

His cock taps you again anyway. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

You ignore it, as asked, and continue scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Hey,” you start in the darkness, “is this comfortable?”

You run your fingertips over his features while he nods, following his jaw up and down. 

Unable to see, this paints the most vivid picture of Steve’s reactions. You feel the vibration of a hum through his cheek, the draw and release of his brow as you skate over his forehead. You hear his short chuckle when you brush ever-so-gently across his long lashes and boop his nose. Finally, you trace his open-mouth smile with the edge of your thumb, his ragged exhale rushing over your palm.

Tap.

“Sorry.”

“Comfy though?”

His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. “Yeah.”

The drag of your fingers past the edge of bristly stubble and down his throat makes him shiver.

Twitch.

“Sorry.”

You flutter across his collarbone, wondering if that means he’s ticklish on more than just his sides.

“Comfy?”

He hums. You feel it rattle your cheek as much as you actually hear it in your ears.

You continue. His corded muscles giving only slightly to the pressure of your touch. His arm, his chest, down to the hand he keeps on your leg.

Several more breathy apologies sound above you. Steve’s other arm is draped over your waist, and with every pulse of need that betrays him, his grip tightens just a little. His fingers now dig into your soft flesh absently.

It’s hard to hide how desperate he’s made you, but the issue is mutual based on how his abs won’t stop tensing, searching for attention where he denies it. 

You flatten your hand to his chest and make to move.

“May I?”

Steve’s swallow is louder than the ‘okay’ he returns.

You are careful not to push him in any weird angles as you raise up to your knees and straddle him, pinning his erection beneath you, not directly between your folds but nestled at the apex of your legs, just so he won’t have to worry about every involuntary poke. 

With such fresh contact, he clenches his ass hard in response, lifting your whole weight completely before he settles again. The surge of heat to your core has you biting your lip to muffle a moan.

“Comfy?” you rasp at the same moment Steve offers a strangled “sorry.”

The low, constant whine of the air conditioner fills the hollow space around your cocoon of anticipation.

“New plan,” you laugh, relaxing your fingers to splay across his warm skin, “both of us stop doing that, huh? You have nothing to be sorry for, and I’ll trust you to tell me if you aren’t comfortable.”

“So…” Steve shuffles on the sheets, but whatever he moves doesn’t affect your position. “Can I touch you?”

You bite your lip harder before answering, your voice dropping to a sweet reassurance. “Yes. Of course you can, Stevie.”

You keep your pets of his chest and arms light, trying not to tickle him. He’s always so hesitant; you’re worried the tiniest misstep will send him back into his head—not in a good way.

The silence now feels purposeful, dense with possibility, and then rough fingertips land like a foreign explorer who’s braved months at sea solely to experience this moment.

A calculated inhale and exhale rock your pelvis, a wave of nerves foaming in your gut.

He starts innocently enough, mapping your thighs, muttering something about how soft they are, but you don’t dare lean to hear him better. No sudden movements. None. Even though your skin lights up as explosive as those 4th of July fireworks you missed.

Since there’s nothing to see in the room, you feel everything.

He keeps to the periphery of you at first, abandoning your legs to brush the same arms touching him, running fingers together, separating them just as quickly, caressing your palms gently, and dragging his short nails up your wrists without pressure.

You stiffen in pleasure, fighting not to shrink away from the purest intimacy you’ve ever experienced.

His long arms reach the curve of your shoulders, flit across your collarbone, and you’re doing your damndest to keep it together, leaning your head back in lieu of talking.

Don’t scare him.

It can’t last; you’re only human.

Steve’s hands slowly descend over your breasts, middle fingers catching your peaking nipples, and a lewd and aching cry tumbles from your bitten lips.

The force of it surprises you, but more surprising still is him, unfazed, encouraged to linger.

In that low timber, he growls.

“You like that… Knew you would.”

Your body throbs, pulsing with need and emptiness.

That means he thinks of you. He’s imagined this. He’s wanted this.

Stunning electricity shoots through your body as he pinches and twists, squeezes and kneads. Nothing too harsh, but he’s highly motivated when you purr and gasp atop him.

What else does he think about doing? How long has he fantasized? Is this as good as his imagination?

Yours aren’t the only noises now. He sounds tortured with little pleas and whimpers escaping before each guttural moan.

Arousal pools at your folds, and without realizing you started to move, the shy momentum of your hips has nudged his length to lay flush with your dripping center. His tip glides over your clit.

Again and again.

Again and again.

A hot pressure builds in you, faster than ever, kerosene dumped on your wet-dreams and burned to life, a spell manifest in the night.

Steve shakes beneath the palms you brace flat on his chest, the heels digging into his diaphragm.

He moves to grip your thighs hard.

Fire spreads beneath your skin as you two pant and gasp, his whole cock slick and slotted so close to where you truly long for him.

“Wait,” Steve groans, but you can’t understand.

No one could imagine how good this feels, how much you need this, how—

He sits up to stop you, accidentally notching himself at your entrance, your residual motion sliding the thick head of him past the that first, tight ring.

Steve’s lusty moan is barely eclipsed by your own, and you’re too close to halt sheathing him within you, arms instinctively wrapping his shoulders. Desire winds the coil in your belly too taut, the thought of losing this climax unbearable.

“N-uhhh god—“

He’s too sensitive though. He flips you both so your back crashes to the soft sheets and digs his grip into your side, his other hand thumping to anchor on the headboard. Steve sucks air through his teeth like he’s afraid the faintest smell of sex will set him off.

“Don—don’t move,” he orders in thick command.

It makes things worse.

You’re so close, vaulting off the ground and suspended by legs clamped around his waist, dangling on the precipice of ecstasy. You whine and clench, totally unable to control yourself, your nails digging into his back.

Steve cries out, choked at the hilt by your desperation and lost to his own finish.

His hand races from your side to your ass. He pulls out of you only to slot himself there and thrust his cock between your cheeks, cum shooting on the sheets below.

Mindlessly, you ride the cut of his abs, his course pubic hair adding almost enough friction to keep ascending toward your own end, but the void left behind is too consuming. The fire sputters and dims.

Steve buries his face in your neck, breath cooling the sweat lining your skin as he curls away from you, overwhelmed.

“Swear I was gonna wait,” he confesses to the tender spot behind your ear. “I swear.”

“Please,” you croak, tears prickling your eyes in lament for your ruined orgasm.

“Was gonna be better. Swear I’ll do better for you.”

You grope and claw at those thick arms which hold all but his face far away. “Please,” you beg pathetically, “fucking touch me, please.”

A drawn out grunt vibrates the column of your throat.

“Y’shouldn’t have ta beg...”

He shifts to his forearm, caging you in as you plead over and over. He kneels to hover, and your thighs weakly squeeze at his own to emphasize what you need.

“Sounds so pretty when you do…”

Something between a screech and a snarl erupts from your chest.

Steve shushes you, smoothing a big hand across your damp cheek, and quietly, he commands you, “show me what to do.”

Your quivering hold guides him by the wrist down your body. Words to instruct him won’t form in your sex-steeped brain. As luck would have it, he doesn’t need specifics.

“Next time I’ll taste you.” One finger teases your folds in search of his entrance. “Next time you’ll have to beg me to stop.” Two fingers drive forward, displacing a gush of your shared juices. “So wet,” he groans, agonized to silence when you jerk his hand to thrust faster.

“More.” 

He sets a loving and delicate pace, the heel of his palm working your clit. 

Too delicate.

“More,” you gasp.

He obliges, muttering how good he’ll be to you from now on. You’ll always be first. He promises.

The fire takes over again.

“More, Stevie. Please.”

You grind down on him to prove your point, and he marvels that this isn’t too rough for you.

Each strangled breath ties your moans together in a crescendo worthy of Carnegie Hall.

“God,” he rumbles by your ear again, “I know that sound. You’re close, aren’t you?”

Steve’s pumping fingers bully your body farther and farther up the bed, using only a taste of his real strength.

Your chant of ‘yes’ catches in your taxed lungs. He doesn’t need an answer though.

The super-stretched band snaps, a plateau of peace and weightlessness tipped at the vertex until—crash—nerves are razed all along you like a carpet-bombed battlefield.

“Uhnn, is that what you’re gonna feel like around me?” He sighs at the thought and stills his hand just to commit the ripple to memory. “How’m I s’pose to last?”

You slap a hand over his mouth, trying and failing to hold in your yelp of relief.

That mouth…that fucking mouth of his is a weapon all its own.

Tiny explosions wreak havoc on you, body and soul, as his fingers greedily coax you to keep coming—just a little more—just for him—one last rush—give him everything.

His lips open in your palm, but you grip his face harder.

You can’t. You can’t listen right now. You can’t hear one more dangerously sexy, completely innocent thing fall from his beautiful mouth.

Steve lets his hand go lax but doesn’t take it away from your clenched and spasming thighs.

He tries to speak again then gives up, waiting.

Finally, before you can collapse boneless to the bed, he hooks his arm behind your leg so you don’t land on the cold, cum-stained sheets.

He shakes off your forgotten grip of his jaw.

“Tops?” he whispers, patience personified in the long pause before you hum acknowledgment. “Can I kiss you?”

That fucking mouth…

There’s barely enough breath in you to make a sound, but the instant the ‘ye—’ forms in the back of your throat, Steve’s lips are on yours.

It's your first real kiss, of all the ways, after all this time, following all that.

You’d laugh if you weren’t smiling, suffocating in the gentle press that becomes deep and adoring. He kisses you thoroughly after each frantic gasp for air, savoring you, even in the reckless passion of the moment.

Steve rolls to lay you atop him again, more intimately than before. He keeps his face close, sharing breath even in the heat and stench of sex in the room, your wetness now smeared from his navel to his knee.

Turns out, he is a very good kisser, focusing on the act of physical connection. Not only do your lips touch, but he likes to nudge you into whatever minutely different position with his nose. He likes to nuzzle his beard on your sensitive skin until you giggle and squirm. He relishes you like you relish him. 

He whispers things too soft to make out at first. It takes him a while to find his voice, to push past his insecurities, to find his confidence, but eventually, you hear it.

He mumbles how he should have been better, more prepared.

You weave all your fingers through his hair, propped on his chest by your elbows, smiling so he’ll be able to tell in your tone.

“Take the win, Cap.” 

You freeze.

You’ve never called him that, and Steve stays silent for an excruciating beat.

“Sorry,” you offer in the dark, air conditioner churning out sobering drafts of reality.

Steve runs his knuckles gently in patterns across your bare back. There’s a short huff and an amused snort, you mind scrambling to plan some explanation as to why you’d haul the drama of out there into his safe space.

He guides you to settle against him again, tucking you into his strong hold with his chin resting on your forehead.

After what feels like an eternity, he simply asks, “comfy?”

A/N: In case you were wondering...

[Next part: Desperate Man, part one]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @mrsevans90 @lemonadygirl

[jedi-luca]

Something’s in the Air - Part 2

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk (graphic image inside)

Summary: Natasha returns from a mission after being exposed to a chemical that makes her extremely, extraordinarily feral for you. 

Reader has a penis; no pronouns used.

Part 1 can be found on @dirtyvulture page

3 Hours Later

“We should probably get out of here.” You chuckled looking at the destroyed hospital bed before looking back at your girlfriend. She was looking at you in a way that simultaneously scares and turns you on. “Nat?” You croak feeling her clench you.

“Oh we’re not going anywhere.” Natasha used the sheer power of her thighs to straddle you. “I need you Y/N. So badly it’s like I'm in pain without you inside of me.”

“Babe, we've been going at it for like 3 hours now. I want breakfast and sleep.” 

“I need you so badly it hurts.” She mewled, rocking her push against your flexing abs.

“Maybe Dr. Cho has an antidote to this exposure.” You say, hating the thought of her in pain. “Give me a chance to get hard again. Get on my face.” you say already pulling her by the hips.

Natasha eagerly turned around lowering her hips. She needed to squirt and when she relented control she would be shaking, eyes rolling to the back of her head, Russian words fleeting her lips because she can’t even distinguish English from Russian. She shook with anticipation, feeling your lips kissing her thighs.

You swiped your tongue causing the ex-assassin to let out a long moan as she felt your lips wrap around her bud. You enter her with two fingers making her gasp. Her hips were rocking roughly against your mouth and fingers. You kept one hand against her abdomen.

Your voluptuous girlfriend looked down at your semi. Her mouth salivated. She was embarrassed to say she definitely drooled a bit on you before lifting your member, and fully stuffing you down her throat.

You groaned, sending vibrations against her clit causing Natasha to moan. Sending the same vibrations with you down her throat. She could feel your abs flexing and your toes stretching. It always made her unbelievably wet when she made you moan or twitch. She gasped feeling your fingers tapping inside of her. Winding up her coil in a way only you know how.

Meanwhile outside the door of an Un-soundproofed room

“Bruce you know how I feel about bringing your work in here.” Steve furrows his brows walking into the kitchen seeing Bruce and Cho typing on their laptops. Test tubes along the table.

“Yeah Natasha and Y/N are occupying that area at the moment.” He chuckled, taking his glasses off looking at a giggling Cho.

“Well then just move them!” Steve huffed before turning on his heel.

“Cap, I don't recommend going that way.” Cho and Bruce said in unison.

“Why?” He huffed.

“Natasha was exposed to a hydra chemical.” Doctor Cho said with a sigh. “We’re trying to find an antidote now.”

“Oh well I’ll go check on her.”

“Cap, Y/N is with her.” Bruce said, looking at him in a way Steve couldn’t comprehend.

“Oh good, I needed to talk to Y/N anyway.” He smiled Before Cho or  Bruce could say another word Steve was going up the stairs and down the hall.

“This should be good.” Tony cackled watching him go up as he brought his team an iced coffee and a boom box that dummy was carrying.

Steve stopped in his tracks the moment he heard the moaning and ran back down. “They’re doing it.” He said cringing as running past them. 

“Oh I can’t make this shit up.” Tony laughed before blaring some AC DC.

Back in the medbay

“Y/N.” She breathes out, popping you out of her mouth suddenly. Natasha’s mouth went agape feeling a great pressure in her core before feeling herself release into your mouth like a waterfall. “Oh my God yessss.”

Natasha moved away from your mouth and gripped you with her hand.

“Fuck baby.” You both moaned as she slid her velvet walls down your shaft.

“You feel sooooo good.” Natasha gasped, placing one hand on your chest and the other on your thigh. Using momentum to rock her hips. “So good, so good!” She chanted rocking and rocking until she quivered above you. Squelching sounds of your combined fluids filled the room, and the pristine crisp smell of clean chemicals was long gone. The only smell was the scent of sex.

You caught her before she fell against your chest. You could see tears in her eyes as her pussy convulsed around you. “I love you so much.” She cried against your forehead.

“I love you too baby. So much.” You say softly in her ear before taking her wrists behind her back with one hand. The other hand wraps around her throat as you thrust up.

“Yeah! Ooooh!” She lets out a throaty groan trying to meet your thrusts. Wiggling and circling her hips. She was so wild, more so than when you were both stuck on an island for 3 weeks.

You moan pulling out quickly causing Natasha to clench around nothing. “No back inside.” She muttered trying to grip you, but you sat up with her in your lap. You slip back inside of her. 

“Yes!” She cries out gasping for air kissing you with both hands roughly before breaking gasping for breath. She chanted yes as you suckled on her neck her breathing picking up and her hips rocking faster and faster. 

Natasha hooks her arm around you moaning as she arches back, throwing back her hair. “Fuck.” She groans using her other arm to help with momentum. You trail your lips from the nape of her neck down to her rosy nipples. Squeezing and sucking leaving marks in your wake.

You can feel the pressure inside of her. She's so close. Her clit is hitting your flexed abs with every rock she makes. Your hands felt like they were everywhere and your lips and tongue took a hold of her. The red head wrapped both arms around you squeezing you as she came apart. You could feel the rush of liquid and drops of her tears against your skin. “Ooh fuck ohhh Y/N it feels so good!” She cried against your neck. “It feels - so fucking good.” She moaned humping you over and over again as her orgasim continued.

You grunted pulling out before you exploded.

“Fuck Nat!” You say throwing her around until she was on all fours dripping like a fire hydrant. She loved when you were at this stage almost like a caveman. She loved how tiny she is compared to you. She looked back looking at the way your muscles gleamed with sweat. The veins running down your abs to your thick cock made her impossibly even hornier. 

“You’re so insatiable.” You pant, sweat running down your body.

She whined.

“Get back inside.” She whimpered against the pillow with her ass up in the air. 

“Don’t be a brat baby.” You say gruffly slapping her ass before palming her ass cheeks.  

She whined. “Please keep going, don't stop.”

You slap her ass a few times before sheathing yourself deep inside of her.

“Yes, yes, oh Y/N, don’t stop! Don’t ever fucking stop.” She moaned, meeting your harsh thrusts. She could feel the tension in her shoulders begin to melt away when you held her back letting your hands massage her.

You felt Natasha reach below her body to massage her clit meeting your thrusts as you railed into her.

“You like that baby?” 

She groans in response, drooling on her pillow as her pussy convulses around you. You slap her ass at her lack of response. “Yes! Oh so much! So much. I’m so close.”

You began drilling your hips faster and faster against her favorite spot.

“Just like that! Just like that! Don’t stop! Don’t stop im so close! Im so close.”

You could feel your own release nearing. You grunted drilling faster and harder than before making your girlfriend speak in Russian begging for you to keep going.

“Oh fuck Nat this is it baby I can’t hold it anymore.”

“Let go baby, fill me up.” She spoke in her mother tongue. “I'm so ready.” you felt her convulse knowing she was near and so were you.

You groaned shooting ropes and ropes of your seed deep within her womb. “Fuck!” You both moaned loudly when the door opened. You were too busy twitching inside Natasha to see Maria walk inside with two syringes in her hands.

“Go to sleep.” Was the last thing you heard the woman say before you and Natasha pass out.

40 hours later

You and Natasha stirred awake at the same time.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” You grinned sleepily as you brought her over closer to you.

“Hmm, good morning my love.” She giggled feeling you pepper her face with kisses.

“It’s actually 9:30PM on a Tuesday evening.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimed in.

You and Nat look at one another with wide eyes as the sex marathon comes to mind.

“Would you like to hear a voice memo from Maria Hill?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. Asks.

“Yes.” You sighed.

“Natasha you were exposed to sex pollen which is why you two were having a sex marathon in the medbay which is destroyed by the way. I took you both off missions for the rest of the week. Rest up bitches.”

“The team is going to hold this over our heads for years.” Natasha groaned.

“…Eh…Worth it.” You shrugged, laughing when she smacked your chest before giggling herself. 

“You’re terrible.” 

“But you love me.” You shrug, smirking.

“I do.” She sighs snuggling into you. Her ass wiggling against your crotch.

“Watch it babe don’t start a fire you can’t put out.”

“My ass isn’t sore. Wanna make it sore?” She smirked looking back at you.

This woman was going to be the death of you.

[briarberrythornedhart]

When you have Pocket Aces you don’t bluff

🦇 ♦️ 🦇 ♣️ 🦇 ♠️ 🦇 ♥️

Contains: fluff, Eddie Munson x reader

Your new roommate - or apartment mate - was a great guy.

He did dishes, he kept the bathroom clean, was uncannily good at fixing things, he made a lasagna that tasted like heaven, he never failed to cheer you up after shitty days at work, always paid his half of the rent on time. You truly had no complaints.

Except the one.

He was so hot. Too hot. But you could deal. You could be a good friend and roomie and not lust after his fine person constantly.

Probably.

Unfortunately- He was a big flirt. At first you thought it was just his usual way of speaking. Clearly he couldn’t help it. Or he was so pretty that everything out of his mouth seemed extra salacious.

But, after weeks of watching Eddie flirt at Steve, Argyle, Vikki, Murray Baumann, and the Sinclair siblings’ MOM -

until she told him to watch his fool mouth and be respectful!,

and recently with Joyce AND Hopper at the same time, well…

“Why don’t you flirt with me?” Came popping out of your mouth when you couldn’t take thinking about it silently for another second.

Eddie took a guitar pick out of his mouth. “Sorry? Say wha- now?” He’d been focused on practicing guitar - percussive playing with harmonics or something... but now you had his undivided attention. He turned toward you on the couch, eyebrows up high - hidden by his curly fringe.

“You flirt - a lot - with a lot of people - but not with me, what gives?” You leaned into it, damage already done by bringing up this thing that had been bothering you. “You’ll just sit on Argyle’s lap, you’ll tell Vikki she looks mega hot, You asked Steve if his lips tastes as good as they look...”

You watched Eddie swallow/gulp and he rubbed his fingers on his thighs. “I can’t just… “ he licked his lips, “...say whatever comes to mind with you, I’d go too far... you’d get mad.”

“Try me.”

Eddie’s body language transmitted his reluctance - like a full-body whine. “I really can’t tho!”

“Ah.” You took a breath. “Because you just... can’t think of me that way.” You said flatly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed. I should probably go do some laundry or something...” You needed to get away from this situation. You felt too vulnerable, too sad. Too foolish.

What the fuck were you thinking even bringing this up?? Things were so good! Why’d you always pick at scabs??

“Nooo!” Eddie scooted closer, stood up, too, put a hand on your arm which stopped you from running away. “It’s not that. Look. I love living here. You’re really the only person that will put up with my bullshit, other than my Uncle. Did I tell you he used to sleep on a cot - the man is nearly 50 he deserves his own real-ass bed. And if you get annoyed with my bullshit, I’ll be on his couch and...”

“I’m not sure what ‘bullshit’ you are referring to, you are a great roommate, actually.” He was.

“You are a great roommate, too.” Eddie twirled a lock of hair around his finger. “I know it looks like I’m hitting on lots of people, right? But It’s not serious. I’m clowning, because it’s safe. How I feel about you... is serious. Real. We are really close and it means the world to me. So I don’t ask you if those lips taste as good as they look - and they do look good - because...”

“Because you know I’d say ‘why don’t you find out?’ and call your bluff and it’d be a whole thing.” You sighed.

There was a dreadful silence - it felt like 50 years passed, but it was probably only 7-10 seconds or so.

Eddie bit his thumb. “You look really pretty today.” He said, nodding his head forward like a little bow.

“So do you. For the record.” you informed him.

“This outfit looks great on you.” he traced a finger around the neckline of your top.

“It’d look better crumpled up on your bedroom floor.” You suggested.

“If I fireman-carry you to my bed, and call your bluff, you gonna kick me out of the apartment?”

“Of course not. I’m not bluffing.”

“Neither am I.” Eddie licked his grinning lips, bent low and plowed into your stomach, picking you up and holding your legs to his chest. He stood there for a moment holding you- until you poked him in the back. And then he laughed and carried you to his bed.

[mrsharrington83]

Idiots in Love

REQUESTED – My asks are open if you have a request ^_^

Summary; (For the sake of this fic, Steve and Nancy never happened) Steve and reader being dumb and having moments of being iconic together. Since everyone knows that Steve isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, maybe he just needs another person to be as dumb as him or maybe he just needs someone else to match him mentally.

Words; 3.4k

warnings; swearing, usual stranger things, things, slight mention of drug use, blood and injury. not proof read.

A/N; thank you for all the requests! I apologise for taking so long getting through them all. i cant write a 0.5k-1.0k fic for the life of me at the minute! Its 2am for me now, but i really wanted to get this out!

Dustin said Steve was an idiot because he had too much hair on top of his head which left too much room for air. For you, Dustin said it was because you’d been around Steve for far too long.

Hawkins, Indiana, 1983.

School was a bore, you tried your hardest and whilst you did ace some classes, you also completely failed in others. Picking up extra tuition and getting help from anyone who would give it to you was a struggle. You didn’t like asking for help, it made you feel dumb, but more than that, it made you feel useless. Why did you struggle so much in certain classes and not in others?

You honestly thought it was from a fall you had as a child when you were learning how to ride a bike. Your father had stupidly taken off your stabiliser wheels and let you go on the hill of your childhood garden, right into a tree. Whilst you were fine overall, you did end up with a nasty bump on your head.

Not only were you not that smart academically, but you were also very accident-prone, which is how you met Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington. You weren’t the most popular person in school, you had a small group of friends and that was enough for you. You didn’t want to be known by everyone. As you walked down the busy hall to your locker, hardly taking in your surroundings and paying attention, you slammed into someone’s back. Your extra tuition books and folders fell to the floor,

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going!” The person you slammed into turned around, Steve Harrington, one of the most popular, sought for guys in school looking down at you, “I- I” you stuttered and he smiled, placing his sunglasses on the top of his head, he always found your first meeting adorable, it was something the party had heard several times and not got bored of hearing it. The nervousness in your eyes, the way you pushed some of your hair back behind your ear. The way you bent down to get your books, just as he was doing the same. Your heads collided and bounced off each other, his glasses joining your books on the floor, thankfully not broken,

“Shit! Sorry!” It was Steve’s turn to apologise as he slipped his discarded glasses into his pocket and pulled all of your books and folders into his arms, standing quickly so as not to embarrass himself further, “are you okay?” you just laughed and nodded, taking the books from his arms as you thanked him. That was the start of yours twos budding romance.

Hawkins, Indiana, October, 1984

It was a constant source of amusement for the party, they couldn’t believe some of the stuff you and Steve came out with half the time and how you were both so in sync,

***

“Maybe if we set this on fire,” Mike stated as he looked toward all the drawings on the floor,

“Oh, yeah. That’s a no.” Steve bites back, shaking his head, throwing a tea towel over his shoulder as he leaned on one foot, hand on his hip,

“A double no at that,” you called back to scrambling kids who were already gathering supplies and pointing at drawings on the floor,

“The mind flayer would call away his army,”

“They’d all come to stop us,”

“We circle back to the exit,”

“Guys.” Steve interrupted the party as they carried on talking between themselves, rushing around, completely ignoring the two older people in the house,

“By the time they realise we’re gone-“

“El would be at the gate,”

“HEY, HEY, HEY, this is not happening!” You and Steve bellowed over the party as they stopped to look at the both of you, your arms falling around as Steve grabbed the tea towel from his shoulder, whipping the air,

“Do you two share the same brain cell?” Dustin looked towards you both,

“No!” you both shouted in unison again, looking towards each other before laughing, the kids joining you.

***

They were all ecstatic when they found out you were both dating, though they did have to push you both in the right direction, this whole thing was an unlikely friendship between people. The only reason you were involved with Dustin and his friends was because you babysat him whilst his mum was at work, this caused you to get involved with the disappearance of Will last year and in turn, with you being close to Steve. He was brought into the mix also.

It was so obvious to others, how you both felt about each other, but it wasn’t for you and Steve. After some coxing and words of wisdom from the younger party, as you called it. You and Steve were finally an item, though they didn’t find out until months later when Steve let it slip,

“Dustin, stop picking on my girlfriend, would you?” Steve looked up from his plate of food as he moved bacon around with his fork, leaning back against the dining room chair as he stretched,

“But she just- wait? What... girlfriend?” Dustin looked back and forth between you both, the pair of you looking confused, “you’re meant to tell us!” Steve carried on moving food around his plate as you took a bite of toast leaning against the counter,

“Tell you what?” you asked wiping the crumbs off your hands onto a discarded tea towel,

“Have you been listening to any of this conversation?!” Dustin questioned, “That you’re together! I can’t believe this! How long have you two been a thing?! Wait until the others find out about this!” You picked up your plate with half a slice of toast left and took a seat opposite Steve as Dustin still stood shocked, playing with his walkie,

Steve finished up his food and stood up to put his plate in the sink, he looked at the calendar furrowing his brows slightly at the small writing, “Like seven months? Right?” he looked back at you as you nodded, your mouth full of toast.

Dustin once again stood dumbfounded, his mouth visibly agape as he pressed a button on his walkie, “you are not going to believe this, guys.”

Hawkins, Indiana, June 1985

“Oh, this is ridiculous.” You smoothed out part of your Scoops uniform that was now creased and bloody from your split lip and Steve’s as he was continuously hunching over you in a Russian loading car trying to gather his senses and not be knocked from pillar to post by Dustin’s driving up front, laughter bubbling in your throat, the situation was anything, but funny. All three of you (Steve, Y/N, and Robin) had been interrogated to the max, but once they found out there was a tie between you and Steve, they took advantage of that.

***

“Who do you work for?” the guard got down into your face once more, holding the arms of the chair you were tied to, his eyes glaring into your own,

“How many times do I have to tell you I work for Scoops Ahoy? I scoop ice cream for a living!” you cried out as you earned another slap across your already throbbing jaw. Steve was tied up behind you already passed out, they’d done a number on him and all you wanted to do was get out of this place and tend to his injuries, he didn’t deserve any of this. Robin was tied to the corner of the room having to witness her two new best friends being treated like this.

The Russian guard got in your face once more, “it looks like your friend here needs a doctor. Just as well we have the very best.” A smirk across his face made you see red, and without thinking you spat at him. A slight tinge of blood from your split lip was dripping down your chin, staining the collar of your uniform, “you’re going to regret that little one.” With that he muttered something else in Russian before leaving the room with the other guards, leaving you three on your own once more, but not without Robin calling them all bastards and yelling to let you all out of there.

“Steve?” you called gently as Robin tried to manoeuvre her arms from her binds to no avail. Unlike you two, she was tied to a bench so she couldn’t do much whilst she was bound up. Steve started to stir, pain evident in the way he groaned, “oh thank god... are you okay?” you asked quietly not wanting to be too loud,

“Ears are ringing, I can barely breathe and, my eye feels like it’s about to pop out of my skull, but apart from that I’m doing pretty good.” His voice was laced with pain and sarcasm.

***

You were pulled out of your thoughts as you came to an abrupt end, all three of you hitting already pained parts of your body as Dustin crashed into something,

“You guys alright back there?” Dustin asked as he looked to Erica with a slight shrug, “They’re fine, come on. Let’s go.” Dustin hurried out and opened the back of the loading car, hurrying you all out. Time was of the essence after all. This definitely made him think about how he acted sometimes, it was a handful and the fact you and Steve cared for him and all of his friends ample times made him furrow his brow slightly, not that he would change after they got out of this mess, he had an excuse, he was still younger than you.

 “Guys! Come on!” Dustin bellowed as he huffed in annoyance, slapping his wrist, and ushering everyone into the elevator.

“Oh my god! A skateboard!” you screamed out in joy, jumping on a red platform truck as Dustin got to work pressing buttons and hoping for the best, once the elevator started to move, you started to struggle. Steve grabbed hold of the platform truck to stop it from moving too much,

“It looks like you're surfing!” Robin pointed at you as Dustin and Erica glanced at each other quite clearly done with your shit.

“They look drunk,” Erica stated, all of you now splayed on the floor talking about food, “why are they drunk, or drugged?” she questioned as Dustin felt Steve’s forehead,

“He’s burning up,” Dustin spoke to Erica alarmed,

“You’re burning up” Steve bit back, trying to push Dustin away with his hand whilst you and Robin laughed at the ceiling,

 “Eyes are bloodshot, pupils dilated, Steve,” Dustin pat his cheek lightly, “are you drugged?”

“How many times, Dad? I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana.” Steve poked Dustin’s cheek and started laughing again as you and Robin shot up,

“you have marijuana?!” you crawled over to Steve and laid next to him, “gimme!” more laughs erupted from the three of you as Dustin and Erica watched on, wondering what the hell they were going to do to get you all out of this mess in one piece.

Getting you all back to the mall safely was a lot harder than Dustin could have imagined, Robin was picking at her uniform whilst tripping up over thin air whilst you and Steve were trailing behind humming and drumming the air to Simple Minds- Don’t You (Forget About Me) a song that had been on the radio continuously for the past month- a song Dustin thought you were both getting annoyed with as it came on the radio hours before you were in this mess and you were both scrambling with the radio to turn it off with rushed words of, fuck sake, turn it off, not this again, if I hear this song one more time I swear,

“Don’t you, forget about me.”

“Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t.”

“Don’t you, forget about me.”

Keeping you all hidden from the Russians was a lot harder than it could have been, with you three wanting food, and then trying to separate to find food, Dustin thought of a quick solution and got you all into the movie theatre but not before Steve reached into the bin to pull out a bag of discarded popcorn,

“You three sit.” Dustin pointed at the three vacant chairs as you all complained about being too close, and how the seats sucked. “Well then don’t watch the movie!”

“But we want to watch the movie!” Robin exclaimed as other people around you started to get agitated,

“Then watch it!” Dustin apologised to other people trying to shush you all, changing his tone to a hushed annoyed whisper, “Whatever you do. Don’t... go... anywhere.”

“Fine, Dad.” Steve perked up shaking his shoulders slightly as you and Robin snickered, taking handfuls of popcorn and shoving it in your mouth.

“That settles it,” Dustin huffed, “I'm never having kids." The pair sat down a few seats away, keeping their eyes off you trying to fetch up a plan.

Once they both realised you three had left the movie theatre, Dustin let out an audible sigh from his chest, this day, was not it.

“So, like, I wasn’t totally focused in there or anything, but... I’m pretty sure...that mum was trying to bang her son.” Robin leaned against the wall as you and Steve took turns drinking water from the fountain,

“But they’re the same age.” you stopped drinking and looked towards Robin,

“No, but he went back in time.” Robin looked up to the ceiling, balancing on one foot and then the other,

“Then why is it called back to the future?” Steve asked confused as he stopped drinking, letting Robin get to the fountain.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” you stated “Back means past so how could he be travelling back to something that hasn’t even happened yet?” you questioned Robin, Steve looking at you doe-eyed, completely agreeing with you,

“He has to go back to the future because he’s in the past, so, the future is actually the present, which is his time” Robin added as you looked confused,

“wh...What?” you and Steve looked at each other astonished before you both got distracted by the ceiling lights, dizziness, and churning in your stomach had you all rushing to the toilet, bringing up everything that happened in the day.

“Well that was no fun,” your voice was harsh, your throat sore as you leaned back against the cold wall of the cubical, no longer dizzy, everything still, the walls no longer moving around you, “Back to the Future though, I can’t get over that.”

***

Hawkins, Indiana, March 1986

Walking into the creel house was way more disturbing than it looked outside, creaking floorboards, furnishings covered in dust and cobwebs, completely derelict, wherever you stood, something creaked.

Lucas went to check on a small lamp for some light, probably to take the edge off an already eerie situation, “looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill.” He stated as Dustin turned on his flashlight, you and Steve stood behind him glancing back and forth to each other,

“Where’d everyone get those?” Steve asked noticing that everyone had one except you and him.

Dustin looked back at the both of you as if to say unbelievable, “Do you two need to be told everything? You’re not children.”

“Thank you.” You said under your breath a little, huffing as Dustin took his backpack off,

“Back pocket.” He was used to you both forgetting things like that, you were both usually good with weapons and things you might need, and everything you didn’t, but never flashlights. You really did need to be told.

Max pointed out a big grandfather clock, hoping that everyone else could see it taking you away from looking at the scattered furniture,

“Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?” you asked looking at the hands that were still,

“Maybe he’s, like, a clockmaker or something?” Steve said next to you, as you pursed your lips actually thinking about it,

"I think you cracked the case, Steve.” Dustin chimed in, shaking his head in disapproval as you watched on, nudging Dustin slightly. Nancy told everyone to go in groups of two leaving you, Steve and a smiling Dustin. Steve let out a sigh and walked off signalling you to follow, “Was that a sigh?”

“No, I did not sigh.”

“Why’d you sigh?”

“I didn’t sigh. Just come on, dude.”

“I heard you.”

“We were just always partnered up with you, okay?”

“You have a problem with that?”

“It’d just be nice to, I don’t know, mix it up a bit.”

You continued to walk the stairs, creaking with every other step, as Dustin hurried up behind you, the pair of them starting to bicker a bit, a usual occurrence, “I’m boring to you? Is that it?”

“No it’s the opposite,” Steve added as he moved his (Dustin’s) flashlight around careful not to knock anything off the walls,

“Maybe me and Y/N should partner up and you go around this creepy house alone, is that what you want?” Dustin asked as Steve shot his head around almost tumbling back down the stairs,

“No! I don’t want that, sorry man.” Steve moved his hair that had fallen a little flat huffing once more. “We do make a good team, The Three Musketeers and all that.” You smiled at Steve’s remark, it was a book you both had to read when you were at school, though boring at the time, the lessons you learned from the book stayed with you. Chivalry, honour, heroics, and willingness. It was true. You, Steve, and Dustin probably had spent the most time together because even though you could both be a bit daft from time to time, you were both reliable and trustworthy with any problem Dustin had, even if that meant issues outside of the upside down. You both never found anything that Dustin had to say daft.

“Hey, uh, Henderson?” Steve asked, looking at the cobwebs that littered the place, “could you maybe, uh, clarify what sort of clues we’re supposed to be looking for here?”

“I second that,” you cut in,

“The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.” Dustin looked back at the both of you smiling, “Sherlock Holmes.” Seeing you both confused he huffed sincerely.

“That’s great. Thanks. That’s great. Really helpful” You huffed and shook your head, feeling dumb as Steve placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing his thumb slowly, a knowing glance only the both of you understood.

“You're not stupid, not to me anyway.” Steve smiled as a small laugh escaped your lips a small vent in the floor catching your eyeline as you walked over to it, “Y/N, let me.” Steve crouched down in front of you lifting the metal from the floor, jars of preserved insects had you grimacing before Steve shot up alarmed, shaking his arm and flailing his hand to get a spider off, both of you clumsily falling through cobwebs and the door, into Nancy,

“Hey, hey, both of you, stay still. Stop moving.” She took time to rid you both of cobwebs as she lightly dusted dust off your arm, you and Steve then looking over each other,

“It was a black widow.” Steve lets out a breath of air, calmer than he was before, “Don’t go in there.” He shut the door adverting his attention back to you, moving a stray piece of your hair behind your ear, kissing your nose lightly. “So uh, Nance. Maybe after we find Vecna, kill him, save the world, and stuff. Maybe we can all go out. You know? Me, Y/N, you, Jonathan, when he’s back.”

“I’d love to.” Nancy looked at you both endearingly, she was glad you both had each other. Everyone needed someone. She knew you both back in school, but never really spoke to either of you. She was too wrapped up in perfecting her grades, reading the next book on the shelf, but she was so thankful to be in your lives now.

Steve was finally with someone he could be himself around without feeling bad or awkward, even in this messed up world the both of you bounced off each other as though it were effortless. Although you were sometimes the biggest idiots, you were the biggest idiots in love.

[strangersteddierthings]

Hey @rustypeopleskillz! I had a lot of fun writing a Jealous!Steve fic, especially since he didn't really understand why he was jealous. I hope you like it!

Here's a little worldbuilding. This takes place in the summer of '87. Jonathan, Nancy and Robin are all in college but have returned to Hawkins for the summer. Argyle has come to visit, too. Robin has resumed her position at Family Video as a summer job.

Written for the @steddiesummerexchange.

-

June 12, 1987

It’s already hot this early in June, and Steve is grateful for the working AC at Family Video. And speaking of Family Video, that reminds Steve.

"You coming over for movies tomorrow?" Steve asks, even though he knows the answer. It's more a formality at this point. They have movie night pretty regularly, Eddie, Robin and himself, now that Robin’s back in town from college. Occasionally they’ll be joined by others, the kids or Jonathan, Nancy, and Argyle (always together when they join) but movie night always includes himself, Robin and Eddie.

"Oh, uh, no," Eddie answers, sounding just as surprised by his answer as Steve feels.

"What? Why?" Steve's questions come out accusatory. Eddie's always free for movie night. Hellfire is on Sundays now, and Corroded Coffin meets on Tuesdays and Saturdays. Friday nights have been saved for Steve. Or, well, not Steve but for movie night!

“What are you, the police?” Eddie snorts. He doesn’t answer the questions.

Before Steve can comment on that avoidance, a quiet voice calls out an ‘excuse me’ and Steve has to turn to the register to get back to work. From the corner of his eye, he watches Eddie push off the counter and head towards the back corner of Family Video, where Robin is currently shelving the last of the returns.

The quiet voice that interrupted belongs to a kid, probably Holly’s age, wanting to rent Snow White. Easy enough to ring up, and soon enough the kid’s out the door, heading towards the car parked directly in front of the doors. Steve looks back over his shoulder in the direction Eddie’d gone. Neither he or Robin is visible, so they’re probably caught up in conversation.

Good. Gives Steve some time to think about why he was going to give Eddie the third degree about not making it to movie night. There have been a few times that Eddie didn’t come to movie night before; it’s not like this is the first time it’s happened. All those other times, though, Eddie had told him why. Eddie doesn’t owe him a why, and really Steve has no reason to demand one of him. Steve’s not his keeper.

It just… rubs Steve the wrong way. He doesn’t know why.

When Eddie and Robin rejoin him at the counter, Steve doesn’t bring up movie night again. It’ll still be fun with just Robin. It’s Robin! How can he not have fun with she’s around?

Eddie stays around another half hour before he says he has to go. Once Eddie is backing out of the parking spot, he whips to Robin to ask, “You’re still coming to movie night, right?”

“Duh,” Robin says, looking up from the stack of returns she’s been pretending to process, “unless I’ve got a hot date, and that’s not happening anytime soon, why would I miss it?”

“It could happen, if you’d shoot your shot wi-”

“No. Nope. Not today!” Robin cuts him off with a glare.

He lifts his hands to show he’s defenseless and drops that particular subject for a moment. He’ll have the whole movie night to harass her about her crushes. “Okay, alright. Touchy.”

“Oh, like you were with Eddie about movie night?”

“What, did he immediately go tattle on me!?” Steve says, scandalized. There’s no loyalty here.

“No, but I did hear your immediate grilling of Eddie. You weren’t exactly whispering, and this place is, like, the size of your living room-”

“It is not.”

“-so, no. Eddie did not tattle. He did, however, share what happened the second I asked ‘what was that all about’, so do with that what you will.”

“Oh,” Steve frowns. “Well, did Eddie tell you why he’s not coming?”

She rolls her eyes and turns back to the returns. “No. I didn’t ask because I am not particularly bothered that he can’t make it to one movie night.”

Steve frowns harder. He’s not bothered. Why would he be bothered that Eddie has something else he has to do? Steve’s not his keeper. It’s fine.

Except for how Steve can’t shake the feeling that it’s not fine. He feels some sort of way about it but can’t name it. Definitely a negative feeling of some kind. Maybe worry? Sadness? He’s not sure, but he doesn’t like it.

He doesn’t bring it up the rest of their shift, though, because he knows Robin will ask why this is bothering him so much and Steve won’t have an answer.

June 16, 1987

Steve doesn’t see Eddie again for four days, which Steve thought wasn’t unusual for them. They aren’t attached at the hip friends. That privelege is reserved for Robin. Except now that Steve is thinking about it, he realizes that the only person he sees on the regular besides Robin is Eddie.

Eddie usually comes and spends a majority of his afternoons at Family Video, or he’s hanging out with Steve and Robin at Steve’s house, or inviting them to his for hangouts. Steve and Eddie even hang out alone often enough. Steve will crash at his place after a late night smoke sesh or Eddie will stay with him when the nightmares get too much to deal with alone.

Now that he’s realized how much of his time was taken up with Eddie, he notices how absent Eddie’s been. He can’t even talk about this with Robin because he doesn’t get why he even wants to talk about it! Why it matters so much.

Even back when Steve’s best friends were Tommy and Carol, he’s never felt like this after not seeing either of them for days at a time, and they used to be as attached to each other as he is with Robin now. He doesn’t know what that says about him. Was his friendship with them really that shallow? Or is his friendship with Eddie just that deep?

That seems like the right idea. Eddie went through hell with him and the kids, died for them, and Steve brought him back. It’s not that his previous friendships were shallow, they just weren’t forged the same way.

So, it takes four days for Steve to see Eddie again, and it’s because Steve seeks him out. He couldn’t just pop in, though, because he’s overthought this too much. Even though no one but himself knows the thoughts Steve’s been having, he still feels an embarrassment for them. Which is stupid, he knows, but it doesn’t stop the feeling.

Four days he waits before deciding to check in on Max. See how she’s doing, if she needs a lift to the grocery store or something. A habit formed because her mom is trying to be better, has been since Max was hospitalized, but Susan’s still working two jobs and it doesn’t leave a lot of time to get to the store during the hours it’s open. Steve offered to take Max once, and now it’s an unspoken agreement.

Before knocking on Max’s door, though, he looks down the road to make sure Eddie’s van is parked in its usual spot and it is.

He checks on Max, knowing she doesn’t need anything because Susan did have time to get to the grocery store this week. He knows because he ran into her there yesterday, and thought up this whole convoluted excuse so he can check in on Eddie without seeming like that’s what he’s doing.

Steve is not proud about this. That embarrassed feeling ever present, even now that he’s checked on Max and been quickly shooed away because El is over and they’re having a girls day.

Maybe he should talk to Robin about this. Why is he embarrassed by missing Eddie?

The thought causes him to skip a step as he heads down the road to the Munsons’ new place, which is up the road in the opposite direction of the old Munson trailer from Max’s home.

Oh. He’s missed Eddie, and he’s embarrassed that he’s missed him. Why hadn’t he known that until now?

He really is going to need to talk to Robin after this.

The Munson’s are still in the process of building the porch for this new trailer; it’s just a frame that stretches from the stairs to the end of trailer. It looks like they’re doing everything they can to make this place look like their old one. Or, maybe, they just really like having a porch.

He should ask Wayne if he wants help finishing it next time he sees him.

Steve knocks on the door with three quick raps and doesn’t have to wait long.

The door swings open to reveal Eddie. His hair is pulled up off his neck, which is a familiar look on Eddie by now with the hot Indiana summer.

“Oh!” Eddie looks surprised. “Hey Steve. What brings you here?”

“I was just checking in on Max, and saw your van was here. Thought I’d stop in and say hi.”

Eddie cocks his head to the side and studies Steve for a moment. “Well, if you don’t have anywhere else to be, you wanna hang out for a bit?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, possibly to quickly. “I mean, I got time.”

Eddie grins and steps back, out of the doorway so he can enter. Steve toes off his shoes as Eddie breezes past him and to the couch. He must have been watching something on TV because he usually shuts himself away in his room with all his things. (Steve called him a hoarder once and Eddie’d said that just makes him a dragon. At Steve’s blank look, Eddie’d explained that dragons have hoards, typically gold, but that was ‘a bit too rich’ for his blood.)

“What’re we watching?” Steve asks, plopping himself next to Eddie, angled slightly more towards Eddie than the TV.

“I was watching Fire and Ice, but I’m like halfway through. We can find something else.”

“Have you seen it before?” Steve asks, looking at the scene paused on the TV currently. Some animated thing, which is unsurprising. Eddie made him watch an animated Lord of the Rings when Steve gave up on reading the books, and The Black Cauldron just a few weeks ago. Eddie seemed to like animation as much as horror and thriller.

“Several times,” Eddie says. “I own it.”

“Then just tell me what’s happened so far, and the names of people on screen when they appear and I’ll figure it out. Or I won’t,” he adds with a shrug, unbothered about understanding what was happening. If the movie ends up being important enough to Eddie, he’ll see if they have it at Family Video to see the whole thing. Or maybe ask Eddie to invite him over next time he watches.

Eddie laughs and reaches for the remote. He just holds onto it as he explains, “there’s two kingdoms. One of ice, and one of fire. The ice people are evil, the fire ones good. Ice people kidnapped the fire princess, and, uh, the guy in a loincloth is out to save her. Currently he’s stowed away on her brother’s ship as he’s also on the way to save her.”

Ah. Alright. A classic Eddie movie. Fantasy. Magic. A hero, and someone needing saved. Steve nods and waves his hand at the TV in a ‘let’s get on with it’ motion. He’s rewarded with a smile from Eddie before he presses play and settles into the couch.

He watches Eddie much more than he watches the movie. Steve does this most times they watch movies together. He lifts an arm to the back of the couch, bending at the elbow to make a place to place his head, and lounges there. He can see the TV and Eddie’s profile from this position but he ends up watching Eddie’s profile more than the TV.

Eddie’s expressive. Eyebrows going up, mouth opening in shock. Brows furrowing, a scowl when he thinks someone has done something stupid, or a character he hates has come on screen. Laugh lines that come into view. It’s a whole show itself, watching Eddie.

Steve’s got no clue how the movie goes but he watches the very end, if only because he knows as soon as the credits start that Eddie will turn to him for his opinion, and Steve doesn’t want to get caught watching Eddie instead of the movie.

Which is a completely normal thing to worry about.

Perfectly on queue, Eddie turns to him, “so, what did you think?”

Steve turns his own head slowly from the screen to Eddie, takes in his expression. Anticipation for the answer, but Steve thinks Eddie knows that Steve wasn’t paying attention because he looks amused, like he’s asked a trick question. “I think I need to watch it from the beginning.”

Eddie laughs at that, so Steve does, too. They fall into easy conversation after that, chatting for another hour or so until it’s dark and Steve has to leave because he opens tomorrow.

Heading to the door, Steve spots a new leather jacket handing from the little coat rack he’d helped Eddie mount on the wall when the Munsons moved into their new place. He knows the jacket is new, to Eddie anyway, because where the zipper on the sleeve is broken and held together with a chain on Eddie’s old one, this on has a button closure instead.

“Hey, new jacket!” Steve grabs the sleeve, pulling at so he can take a look at the front. Leather jackets aren’t Steve’s style, but he can tell this one looks real nice.

“Oh. No, that’s not mine,” Eddie says. “Jack forgot it in my room, and we know it’ll never see the light of day again if I’d left it there.”

Steve just blinks. “Jack? Who is Jack?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, ushering Steve out the door. “You’re not my only friend, Steve.”

“I know all your other friends,” Steve says dumbly. “Gareth, and Jeff, and Frankie.”

He sees the spark of mischief in Eddie’s eyes before the shit eating grin spreads across his face and he lifts his hands in a ‘what can I say?’ sort of shrug before he says, “Well, you don’t know Jack then.”

Steve groans and Eddie cackles.

June 25, 1987

It takes Steve a few more days and an evening shift with Robin that leads to a sleepover to realize why he can’t stop thinking about the stupid leather jacket hanging up at Eddie’s.

“Okay dingus, what is it?” Robin asks as she locks the front door behind them before toeing her shoes off. Steve is bent down, untying his shoes because he’s not a heathen, so he looks up at her, confusion on his face.

“What is what?”

Robin rolls her eyes like he’s an idiot and puts one hand on her hip to look down at him. “Whatever it is that has you sighing wistfully every five minutes.”

“I am not sighing wistfully,” Steve argues because he’s not. He would know if he was sighing and he’s not. Except as soon as he looks back down at his shoes he does let out a sigh. Shit. Robin’s right. “Okay, guess I am. I just… didn’t know that I was.”

“Well, what’s causing it?”

Steve hesitates, not because he doesn’t want to talk it out with Robin but because he doesn’t know how. “I don’t know.”

“You’ll tell me when you do know?”

“Yeah.”

Their night continues like usual. Steve turns on the radio for background noise, Robin raids his kitchen for snacks, and they lay on the floor in the living room. They complain about the rude customers they dealt with and gossip about the others. Conversation stays light and all the while, Steve is in the back of his mind thinking about that stupid jacket.

“Hey Robs,” Steve says after a quiet has fallen over them. “Did you know Eddie has a friend named Jack?”

“No,” Robin says easily. And Steve supposes it should be an easy thing, to accept that your friend has friends you don’t also have. “Why?”

“He left a jacket at Eddie’s place,” Steve says slowly, still gathering his thoughts. “It was a nice jacket.”

“Uh huh,” Robin agrees, tilting her head a bit to the side, watching him.

“I saw the jacket and thought it was Eddie’s. A new one. But he told me it was Jack’s, and I-I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. Or him. Jack. Do you think Jack’s the reason Eddie ditched movie night?”

Robin has the audacity to laugh at him. Just one quick bark of a laugh before she’s covering her mouth with both hands to hold it in. Steve glares at her but she doesn’t even look remorseful for laughing at his problems. Once she’s successfully swallowed her laughter, Robin says, “So, still hung up on that?”

“Robin, I’m being serious right now!”

“About what Steve? You like a jacket that you can’t steal from Eddie because it doesn’t belong to him?”

“No! That Eddie’s got a secret friend who leaves stuff in his room and I’m-” Steve clamps his mouth shut, the unspoken words ringing in his head.

“Oh my God, you’re jealous!” Robin says with too much glee for a woman saying the unspoken bit out loud.

Steve huffs, rolling over onto his stomach to hide his face in his arms. To the carpet he says, “I don’t even know why! I’m not jealous of Eddie’s other friends. Just…”

“Just the one dude you don’t know?”

Steve wants to shrink in on himself but that’s harder to do on the floor than it is curled up on the couch. He settles to tightening his arms around his head. “This is stupid.”

“Yeah, a little,” Robin says lightly, “but Eddie’s your best guy friend and you aren’t used to sharing, spoiled little rich kid that you are.”

“I can share just fine!”

“Not your friends.”

He turns his head, popping out of where he’s hidden to glare at her. “That is not true!”

Robin’s laughing again. “It is! You can’t share friends! You’re only okay with Dustin having other friends because he already had them before being your friend. Same with Eddie and his other friends. But try and bring a new friend in? Nope. Jealousy strikes.”

“That’s- I’m not- I don’t care if other people gets friends that aren’t me.”

She laughs louder before rolling onto her side to look at Steve. “You do to! You were the same way with Tommy and Carol.”

He wants to argue, but really, he doesn’t have an argument. He can’t remember Tommy or Carol trying to bring new friends into their group in school, but also, they’d all gone to the same elementary, middle, and high school. They’d established friendships and cliques early on and at the end of the day, Tommy and Carol had other friends but Steve was their friend and everyone knew it.

Huh.

Maybe he does have a problem with sharing.

“This doesn’t feel the same. I was never- it didn’t feel like this with Tommy and Carol.”

That sobers Robin a little. The laughter drops from her voice when she asks, “well, what does it feel like?”

Steve frowns. “I don’t know. Like… like I’ll lose Eddie.”

“That’s silly,” Robin says, shifting to sit up, cross-legged. “Even if Jack is Eddie’s new best friend, he’ll never have the same bond we all have. You won’t lose Eddie.”

No. He won’t. Robin’s right. The horrors of the Upside Down will forever connect them. This thing that they all will only ever have each other to relate to. But this doesn’t feel like the fear of just losing a friend. It’s something else, but Steve can’t pin down the feeling.

“Yeah,” he agrees, because Robin isn’t wrong. “It is a bit silly.”

July 11, 1987

Steve meets Jack two weeks later. Well, everyone meets Jack two weeks later because in an effort to beat the heat, Dustin showed up in his swim trunks, interrupting Steve and Robin’s first full day off together in weeks, and an hour later Steve’s found himself hosting an impromptu swim party, complete with burgers and hot dogs that Steve ends up in charge of grilling like he’s some dad on the Fourth of July.

(Or, as Robin is apt to remind him, it’s his house and his grill and does he really want to put anyone else in charge of working something with an open flame? Which, no. No he does not.)

Dustin had called and invited the rest of the Party. Will shows up with El, Jonathan, and Argyle. Mike gets a ride from Nancy, who sees what’s happening and asks if it’s okay she crashes the party, too. (Apparently Mike had told her Party Members Only, but once it’s made clear anyone is welcome, Nancy leaves and returns with her swimsuit and several side dishes.)

Max gets a ride from Eddie.

Eddie walks her to the back, “just sayin’ hi.”

“You can stay,” Steve immediately says.

“I got the guys with me,” Eddie says, gesturing vaguely with his hand towards the front of the house.

“No problem. The more, the merrier or whatever,” Steve says, making a circle in the air with his scrubby as he speaks. “I don’t have enough swim trunks for everyone, though.”

Eddie smiles, big and bright and Steve can’t help returning it. “Alright. Awesome. I’ll go ask ‘em if they don’t mind crashing a party.”

Steve hears the answer as Eddie’s van goes quiet instead of the sound of crunching gravel as he leaves, and soon enough all of Corroded Coffin is filing into the backyard along with an unknown dude jammed in the middle of them, chatting with Jeff. Steve knows immediately that Unknown Dude is Jack because he recognizes the leather jacket he’s wearing.

Who wears their leather jacket in the middle of summer?

(Nevermind that Eddie does occasionally. Eddie’s not wearing his right now, though. No, he’s in denim shorts that Steve just knows in his heart where once full jeans and a Judas Priest tank top. The standard summer uniform for him, Steve’s come to know.)

The new group makes the rounds, introducing Jack to everyone as Steve watches from behind the grill. He’s not cooking yet; the grill needed a good cleaning first because it hasn’t been used in God only knows how long.

Jack’s got dirty blonde hair, a length to rival Eddie’s, but pin straight as Steve’s own hair. He’s not a bad looking dude by any means, which Steve feels some sort of way about. Angry, maybe? He’s wearing black jeans, some sort of graphic tee, the stupid leather jacket, and combat boots. Steve can see he wears more rings than Eddie does. It’s entirely too hot to be dressed this way but Jack looks unphased by the heat. Jack doesn’t pass for Eddie’s twin in any way, but they certainly match.

(Steve hates how easily Jack matches Eddie’s aesthetic. He takes in his own Hawaiian printed swim trunks and yellow polo, looking every bit like a Sears catalogue Summer Edition and sticking out amongst all of Eddie’s friends, and everyone else really, for it. (He’d bought both the shirt and swim trunks at Sears, actually, because Robin had pointed out how very ‘him’ them seemed and, well, she wasn’t wrong.))

The grill is now clean and he’s lighting the charcoal by the time the get to him. They’ve lost Gareth to the pool, who took of his shirt, socks, and shoes, and jumped in wearing his jeans, and Frankie to a conversation with Jonathan and Argyle, so it’s just Eddie, Jeff, and Jack who arrive at the grill.

“And this is our glorious and generous host, Steve Harrington,” Eddie says once they come to a stop next to him.

“Hey. I’m Jack Williams,” Jack grins, offering up a hand to shake. Steve takes it and gives it one shake, exactly how his dad taught him to do when meeting business partners. Firm and formal, friendly but distant.

“Nice to meet you,” Steve says because it’s expected for him to say even though he doesn’t think he finds meeting Jack all that nice.

Jack appraises him, then. Jack stands in silence for a moment and he flicks his eyes down, taking in the whole of Steve’s appearance before eyes -blue, Steve sees now that he’s close enough to make out such details- flit about his face. It makes Steve feel like Jack is sizing him up. “I thought thee Steve Harrington would be taller.”

Eddie’s hand swings out, smacking Jack hard on his arm before Steve can even so much as bristle at that. “Dude!”

“I’m just joking!” Jack laugh and Steve hates it. It’s a stupid laugh. “Sorry, Steve. It’s just with all I’ve heard about you I thought I’d be meeting God himself or something.”

Oh. Well. Maybe it’s not that stupid of a laugh. “Really?”

“You have to know you’re Eddie’s favorite subje-” Jack doesn’t get to finish that sentence because Eddie attacks him and Steve has to shoo them away for fear their wrestling will knock over the grill.

Steve doesn’t even get a chance to ask how Eddie and Jack met before Robin’s appearing with the burgers and hot dogs. It’s fine. He’ll ask later. He might not even need to know. It settles something inside him to know that Jack knows about him. That Eddie talks about him to Jack enough for Jack to have constructed a version of Steve in his own head.

He think he’s finally made peace with whatever was going on in his head involving Eddie and Jack’s friendship when he catches the moment that makes his stomach drop.

It’s later in the day, moving onto evening. Everyone is out of the pool but still lounging around it. Steve finally been allowed to remove himself from behind the grill because everyone’s full and they’re out of burgers anyway. Steve is coming back outside, having gone in to grab himself, Eddie and Jack a beer each.

He doesn’t catch what Jack said. Just Eddie’s reaction to it. A reaction he’s never seen Eddie give anyone but him.

Eddie’s face pinkens and he drags a lock of hair in front of his face to hide his immediate smile, only releasing the strand once he’s got his smile under control, wrestled into a closed mouth grin that does nothing to hide his joy. And then. Then Eddie’s face does something Steve has seen a thousand times, but never at this angle. Never at this distance.

Maybe it’s because it’s from this distance and angle that Steve’s able to really see it.

Eddie looks smitten. Infatuated. Lovesick.

Steve feels his stomach drop and his first thought is ‘I’m too late’ which is instantly followed by ‘wait, what? Late for what?’

Forget stomach dropping. Steve feels like the whole floor has dropped out from beneath him and suddenly he can’t be here anymore. Can’t be surrounded by all these people who know him too well. If they look at him, if anyone see him, they’ll know. They’ll know what Steve’s just figured out from one second to the next and he can’t- he can’t deal with that.

Somehow he forces his legs to move. It’s like he’s outside his own body as he approaches Eddie and Jack. He hands over the beers he grabbed them and makes some excuse to go back inside. He’s vaguely aware that Eddie takes a single step towards Steve, as if to follow, but Jack stops him with a single brush of the back of his hand to the top of Eddie’s arm and Steve books it.

He’s such an idiot.

His feelings from earlier, from when he was talking to Robin, just click into place. Of course it didn’t feel like the fear of losing a friend.

It feels like how he felt when he realized Nancy had feelings for Jonathan instead of him anymore.

Heartbreak.

Robin finds him on the floor on his bedroom sometime he couldn’t quantify later, wedged between his bed and the wall, still clutching a now room temperature beer can.

“You okay Steve? Been in here a while,” Robin asks in a tone of voice that suggests she knows he’s very much not okay but will let him pretend to be right now if that’s what he needs.

He loves her for it.

“I hate Jack,” Steve says, quiet and flat.

Robin makes a humming noise as she settles on the floor in front of him on her knees.

“I hate Jack because Eddie likes him.”

“Well, we did already discuss your inability to share friends.”

“No. Robin,” Steve says, voice taking on a pleading tone. Begging her to understand without him having to say it. “I hate Jack because Eddie likes him. Eddie likes him, and I think he used to like me the same way, and I hate Jack.”

Robin’s brows furrow before springing up to her hairline. “Oh. Oh! Steve, oh…” and then she’s grabbing for him, tugging and pulling and adjusting until she’s got him in her arms and half in her lap. They don’t say anything else for a while. Robin runs her hands through his hair and Steve clings to her like a child.

Robin leaves briefly to let everyone know Steve’s not feeling good and to lock up behind them when they go.

July 21, 1987

All in all, Steve handles his gay crisis like a champ. Or so says Robin. It’s easier than he thought it would be. He’s had time to process that being queer isn’t wrong, what with having Robin, Eddie, and Will all out to their group and he’s always been good at adjusting to change.

What Steve is handling with considerable less grace (so says Robin) is the pining. His crisis quickly evolved from oh my God I want to kiss a boy to oh my God I’ve missed my chance to kiss Eddie and Robin keeps rolling her eyes about it. Which is rude. She’s being rude.

Even if Steve is driving Robin up a wall with his moping.

“Just tell Eddie you want to kiss him,” she hisses under her breath to his during the overlap of their shifts. She opened and he has to close, but from 4-7 they work together. The store is currently empty, with it being a Tuesday and therefore a slower day. “You’ve never had an issue asking someone out before. You did it all summer at Scoops even though all you did was get rejected! And all last years here, and you didn’t get rejected.”

“This is different!”

“Pretty sure asking out a boy isn’t all that different from asking a girl. There’s only so many ways you can say ‘wanna go to dinner and a movie with me’, y’know?”

Steve groans and drops his head onto the counter by the register. “That’s not what I meant, Robs.”

Robin lets out a world weary sigh and he hears her leaning herself against the counter on the customer side in front of him more than he sees it. “Enlighten me then. What makes this different?”

“Other than you, I’ve never asked out a friend before. And honestly, if I hadn’t still been a little under the effects of whatever we were drugged with, I wouldn’t have. There’s, like, something to actually lose if a friend says no,” Steve mumbles into the countertop.

“Well, Eddie’s not going to say no, but, like, even if he did, he’s not going to stop being your friend,” Robin says and he feels her hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

It’s Steve’s turn to heave a sigh. She’s not wrong. If Eddie’s still into Steve, and Steve’s not convinced he is, then it’ll be the easiest date Steve’s ever set. He asks, Eddie says yes, they go on to live happily ever after or something. What Steve’s more afraid of, the option he thinks it more likely, is that Eddie’s over pining after Straight Steve Harrington and has moved on to Jack of Unknown Sexual Orientation and if Steve asks Eddie out, to dinner and a movie or to the fair at the end of the week or whatever, Eddie will tell him ‘sorry but no. I used to like you but you took too long to catch on and I’m over it now. We can still be friends though’ and Steve will have to say ‘oh, yeah, no of course. Friends is great. Love being just friends’. Then they’ll both avoid each other, Steve to nurse his broken heart and Eddie because that’s just what you do when someone confesses they like you but you don’t feel the same because no matter what anyone says that’s awkward and you’re left feeling a little bit like an asshole for rejecting someone and-

“-eve! Dingus!”

Steve pops up off the counter, pulling himself from his thoughts. “What?”

The look Robin levels him with his decidedly unimpressed. “Whatever you were just imagining isn’t going to happen.”

“You don’t know what I-”

“I know we haven’t actually melded into a single person, but we are the closest thing a pair of humans can get to it. I don’t need to know exactly what you were imagining to know you’re wrong.”

Steve frowns. “What if I’m not?”

“What if you are?” Robin shoves off the counter. “We can have this conversation all day until we’re blue in the face. How about this. You don’t have to ask Eddie out, but at least come out to him. Then you can gauge his reaction. Watch as he lights up with hope or joy or whatever.”

He snorts a laugh at that. “Maybe.”

He spends the rest of his shift thinking about it. It’s a scary idea, saying it outloud to anyone besides Robin, but it’s also not scary. Because he knows it’ll be okay. Three other people in their weird little friend group are out and the world didn’t end. Though, when faced with real life monsters, near death experiences, and the world almost ending, being gay is probably the least of anyone’s concerns.

Midnight finally rolls around and Steve closes down the store. He’s going to sleep on it, but he thinks he is going to come out to Eddie. Even if nothing comes from it, even if Steve’s left pining forever, at least it might be nice to just let Eddie know. Queer Solidification, or whatever the word is that Robin uses.

July 23, 1987

Once again, Steve turns up at Eddie’s place unannounced. There’s a motorcycle parked out front of the trailer and Steve just knows it belongs to Jack.

He should have called. Made sure Eddie was here alone before coming over. He’s okay with coming out to Eddie, but not Jack, too.

Even so, he parks along the motorcycle. Turns the car off. Sits in it for another ten minutes, waffling between leaving and staying before finally unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing from the car. He’s going to do this tonight. Robin leaves back to Chicago for school mid-August and if this goes the way he thinks it will, he’s going to need all that time with her before she leaves.

Might also need the time between now and then to search for apartments to follow her there so he doesn’t have to stay here in his humiliation.

The porch is complete now. Steve never got around to telling Wayne he’d help with it. Too late now.

Steve pulls the screen door open, stepping in front of it so his body keeps it out of the way.

Knock knock knock.

Three quick hits to the door and he waits. He’s doing this.

The door opens just enough for Eddie to peak around. He looks a bit on edge at first, then his face smooths into an easy smile when he sees it’s Steve. “Oh, hey. Checking on Max again?”

“Uh, no. Here for you, actually. If that’s okay?”

“Um. One second,” Eddie says, closing the door again. Steve feels like his stomach is trying to climb up his throat. God, what if Eddie can’t talk tonight? Steve might just start looking for apartments anyway. Better safe than sorry.

An eternity (less than a minute) later, Eddie opens the door again, this time all the way. Steve steps inside before he really thinks about it. It smells like weed in here, so Steve knows what they were up to before he knocked.

He doesn’t want to have the conversation outside where anyone can overhear, but he doesn’t want to have it in front of Jack either. Jack, and the other stranger on the couch next to him.

Fuck.

“This is Steve,” Eddie introduces. “You know Jack. This is Lee.”

Lee is sat on the couch next to Jack, leaned against the armrest. He’s dressed like a toned down version of Jack. Still in dark clothes, but considerably less accessories. He’s handsome, too, with a rounder face and almond-shaped dark eyes.

“Hi,” Steve says.

“Hey,” Jack and Lee say at the same time, with Jack lifting a hand in greeting.

Eddie takes a step towards the couch, probably to plop down in the spot he was previously in, but Steve shoots a hand out to grab Eddie’s arm and halt his movement.

“Um. I actually. I just came to tell you something.”

“Well, alright. Shoot,” Eddie says.

Steve looks to the strangers on the couch before looking back to Eddie. “Privately.”

Eddie frowns, just for a moment, before his face smooths over and he shrugs. “Alright. We’ll be back out shortly,” he tells Jack and Lee before pulling his arm from Steve’s grasp to head down the hall to his bedroom.

Steve shuffles after, feeling awkward suddenly.

Eddie pushes the door open, then stands in the doorway like he’s holding it for Steve. Steve squeezes by him, his entire arm brushing against Eddie’s chest and stomach and just that little contact makes Steve’s stomach swoop.

Jesus Christ he’s got it bad, doesn’t he? How hadn’t he known that he had a crush on Eddie until recently? How had he been so blind?

The door clicks closed.

“So, what is it Steve?”

Steve stands in the middle of Eddie’s room. It’s messy, but not to dirty. There are clothes scattered about, and clutter on every surface, but Steve knows that Eddie knows where everything is. That if Steve knew what to ask for, Eddie would know where to find it in the chaos.

“I- um. Wow. This is harder than I thought it’d be,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair as he turns to look at Eddie. Which is a mistake. Looking at Eddie isn’t going to make this easier. Not now that he knows he wants to cup his face, and kiss those plush lips, and run his fingers through his hair.

Eddie’s so fucking hot and once again, Steve’s left to wonder how he missed it.

“What is? You okay, dude?” Eddie asks, taking just one step closer. Like he wants to comfort Steve even when he doesn’t know what he’d be comforting Steve for.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Um. Kinda fucking scared but not- uh, not in a bad way?”

That gets a little laugh out of Eddie, and it’s wonderful. Eddie has a wonderful laugh. Why did it take him so long to realize?

“Scared but not in the bad way, huh. Like when you watch a horror movie or go to a haunted house?”

“No. No. More… more like making a big life decision.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, blinking at him before his brows pinch together and he looks down, eyes on the floor instead of Steve’s face. It makes Steve feel like he can take a deep breath for the first time since enter Eddie’s room.

There’s a noise from beyond the door; it makes Steve jump. Eddie turns to look over his shoulder, like he’ll get x-ray vision and be able to see what made the noise through his own closed door. “I think they went to the porch for a cigarette.”

“Oh. Okay. Um. How- How did you meet Jack and Lee?” Steve asks, which isn’t what he came here to learn but the question has been plaguing him since he learned of Jack’s existence.

Eddie shifts. Uncomfortable. “At a bar in Indy. Why?”

Steve shrugs. “I was just curious. We didn’t go to school with either of them so you know…”

“No. I don’t know. Steve, what did you come here to tell me?” Eddie sighs, like he’s already had a full conversation with Steve in his head and didn’t like the outcome. Steve hates that he can’t just understand Eddie the same way he can Robin. Eddie is a mystery.

Eddie is a mystery, and Steve doesn’t want him to be. He wants Eddie to tell him everything about himself. Every little secret he keeps. And he wants to do the same. He wants Eddie to know everything there is to know about him, even if Steve isn’t sure there’s a whole lot to know about him.

God. Robin’s right, as usually. Steve’s not just going to come out to him. He’s going to tell Eddie he likes him.

“Right. Yeah. Umm, so. So it’s like this. You missed movie night at the beginning of June and-”

“What!?” Eddie sounds amused and offended, and Steve ignores him.

“-and like, ever since then we’ve been hanging out less and less. And like, that’s fine. You have your own friends, like a whole other life that doesn’t include me, and that’s fine. Great even. But, like. Okay. So, I dropped in unannounced and learned you had a new friend that I didn’t even know existed. Which is, like, normal. I’m not your keeper, I don’t need to know every little thing about you.” Steve is pacing in Eddie’s room and Eddie is looking at him like he’s gone insane, but he kind of feels insane right now so that’s fine.

“But, here’s the thing. You told me that jacket belonged to someone else and I couldn’t fucking stop thinking about it! That you had a friend who I didn’t know that was a close enough friend to leave things in your room and I just… Robin says I’m not good at sharing my friends. That it’s fine if I make friends and that friend already comes with other friends. But if that friend makes a new friend, that I’m not good at sharing. Does that make sense?”

When Steve turns to look at Eddie again, because he’s turned away in his pacing, Eddie has leans back against the door. Seems to be using it for support as he stares at Steve, eyes wide and confused. “No. Absolutely nothing you’ve said has made sense yet. Continue.”

“Oh. Um. Anyway, Robin told me I wasn’t good at sharing and she’s right. Because she’s always fucking right, and I was jealous. I knew I was, but it wasn’t, wasn’t until recently that I understood why. Because it didn’t feel the same. I didn’t feel jealous the same way I felt jealous when Robin told me about the friends she made in college, or back in high school with Tommy or Carol hung out with someone else,” Steve pauses, licking his lips nervously. “It felt like… like the night I saw Nancy and Jonathan together, back in junior year when Nancy and I were still dating. It felt like. Like that kind of jealousy.”

Eddie sucks in a breath but doesn’t speak, and Steve can’t seem to stop speaking, so he continues.

“Then I met Jack and he’s like fucking perfect. Fits right in with your friends and your look and he probably likes all the same shit you do and I don’t but I want- I don’t fit in and I can’t really stand how loud metal music is and I really don’t want to play your nerd game and I don’t match you, not like- not like Jack does but I saw you look at him, and it was the same way you used to look at me and I didn’t see if then, but I do know and I know this is kind of shitty. To not realize until you’ve already, like, moved on or something, and-”

“I haven’t,” Eddie speaks up and Steve’s attention snaps to him. Eddie’s looking at him with awe on his face and with disbelief in his voice. “Moved on. I haven’t. If you’re, holy shit, if you’re hear to say what I think -hope- you are, based on this absolute Robin Moment you’re having with your words.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say. Not now that Eddie’s interrupted. It was an absolute Robin Moment and she’s going to die laughing when he tells her about it, but he’s not thinking about Robin right now because it sounds like- it sounds like he’s not too late. “I- Eddie.”

Eddie shoves off his door and takes a step closer to Steve. “Steve. What did you come here to tell me?”

“That, that I’m like- that I like you,” Steve says, even though when he’s started that sentence he’d wanted to say he was some kind of gay. Half gay or something. “I like you, and I want to take you on a date.”

“Holy shit. Shit,” Eddie looks startled, even though Steve’s sure he already drew that conclusion in his mind. But thinking it and hearing it are very different. Eddie closes the distance between them but hesitates to actually reach out. “Shit, Steve. Like a real date?”

“Are there fake ones?” Steve asks, amused.

Eddie grins, shy, “yeah. I’ll let you take me on a date.”

He reaches out, placing a hand on Eddie’s hip and the other on his cheek. In a fit of bravery that surprises himself, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Eddie nods and keeps nodding his head even as the distance between them closes, like he can’t help himself or stop. Not until their lips touch.

Kissing is kissing, Steve realizes. Kissing Eddie is no different from kissing a girl except that because it’s Eddie and that makes Steve want it all the more. Eddie’s lips are chapped and kind of shredded because he chews on his bottom lip, but Steve doesn’t give a fuck. Not when Eddie melts against him, into the kiss. Not when he finally touches Steve back, arms wrapping around him to pull him as close as possible.

They don’t pull apart until they’re out of breath.

“Is this real? I’m not hallucinating, right? The weed we smoked wasn’t laced with anything, I thought, but-”

“It’s a shared hallucination if you are,” Steve laughs.

“I can’t believe you were envious of Jack.”

“Jealous.”

“Semantics.”

Eddie likes him. Eddie likes him, and kissed him, and he’s agreed to a date.

Later, they’ll slink back out to join Jack and Lee. Steve will learn to tolerate Jack (as much as he can knowing that Eddie used to or might still have a crush on the guy) and find that he does enjoy Lee’s company. (Later that night, he’ll learn he never needed to worry. Jack and Lee have been a couple since they were both fourteen.)

And later still, he’ll take Eddie on a date to the fair, disguised as a group outing.

Robin is smug the whole time, but Steve doesn’t care because Eddie kisses him behind the Funhouse while she plays lookout.

[elfwitchtrickster]

Combat Training - Loki x reader oneshot

Summary: Loki and the reader are paired up for combat training

Loki reluctantly lined up with the other avengers as Steve and Natasha stood in front of them. "Welcome back to your weekly combat training" Steve announced. "Since we spent the last three weeks covering different attack strategies I figured this week we can just practise sparring which will give you a chance to revise everything you've learnt" he said, Loki fought the urge to shape-shift into Steve and mock the patriotic hero. "Alright so we're

gonna pair you up and we can get to work" Natasha said clapping her hands. They walked along the line pairing up the superheroes, Loki zoned out as he impatiently waited for his turn. "Okay and Loki I'm gonna have you with Y/N"

Steve said, gesturing down the line. Loki raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name and leaned forward to see who Steve was pointing at.

There was a large variety of superheroes at the compound, in different sizes shapes and forms yet what Loki saw before him was certainly unexpected. Smiling at him from down the line was a short, dark clad woman with H/C hair. A smirk grew on his face as he looked his opponent up and down. He would defeat this tiny mortal in less than a minute and he wouldn't even have to mess up his hair he thought snidely. She stepped forward when Steve introduced her. "Y/N is a stealth and intelligence officer so she's here for her monthly mandatory training session" he explained. Loki nodded already bored even though they hadn't even started.

Eventually they walked off, Y/N finding an empty space on the padded floor. Loki followed her with a mischievous smile. She shifted into a fighting stance and waited for Loki to make the first move. He sighed in an exasperated way and stepped forward opting for a swift punch. To his surprise before his fist made contact she had moved to the side. Unfazed he tried again this time trying to knock her off balance but once again, she evaded his attempt. Loki stopped an expression of shock from crossing his face. She had simply gotten lucky he told himself and now moved in for a much more complex manoeuvre that would end with her on the ground. He managed to successfully lift her into the air and bring her back down, but before he could secure her place on the mat she had wriggled out of his grip. Loki huffed in annoyance and Y/N smiled cheekily, the action only irritated the God of Mischief more as he squared up for another attack.

After several more attempts Loki's hair was falling over his face as he pushed himself back to a standing position. While Y/N had not achieved a completed attack against Loki, she had managed to escape all of his. Loki was practically boiling at this point, his frustration threatening to boil over and explode on the smaller girl. The whole time Y/N giggled each time she dodged a punch which only added to the god's vexation. Thankfully, she asked for a water break which allowed Loki to have a minute to himself. He took a deep breath in, in an effort to calm himself, breathing out slowly. 'It's just like a training session in Asgard' he murmured quietly. 'You're having fun'

When they returned to sparring Loki's attitude change could not have been more drastic. While on the surface he continued to act disinterested or annoyed at her countless parries, he secretly found himself enjoying it. He had never contended with someone who had such a unique fighting style and it intrigued the god greatly. In fact as they went back and forth he couldn't help the smile the crept onto his face. As he examined Y/N's movements he tried to ignore the warm sensation in his chest that came with each of her giggles. If it wasn't for his ego he might have considered letting her win a round.

Finally Loki glanced at the clock realising they only had a few more minutes. Some of the other pairs were beginning to shake hands and walk off the mats but lucky for him, Y/N hadn't realised yet. He had to act fast so he tapped into his more magical strategies. He used his powers to temporarily freeze her in place and once he managed to get ahold of her, he pinned the girl against the wall. She gasped as his hands held hers together above her head, pressing them against the wall. It was then that Loki realised just how close they were. His chests heaved, up and down, he was sure Y/N could feel his breath fanning her face. When he looked down at her she had a stunned expression which he met with his signature smirk. It took a moment for her to recover but once she did, she smiled back at him. Loki found himself being drawn to Y/N leaning in, he caught sight of her lips below his. He felt the softness of her skin and the warmth of her touch, the intensity of her gaze almost made him melt. His lips just seconds away, his eyes fluttered closed before

A piercing whistle met his ears, making both of them flinch. "Let's go reindeer games, you can practice more next week" Stark said pointing to his watch. Loki reluctantly let go of her hands and moved back, allowing her to step off of the wall. "We will continue this some other time" he said, winking before he walked off. As he turned back to look at her one last time he saw the pink hue that had covered her cheeks and the wide grin she sported. She waved at him and Loki exited the gym, eagerly anticipating their next meeting

I know this was short but whatever

[yikesharringrove]

Steve and Billy furniture shopping for their first apartment and Billy keeps measuring the kitchen tables heights and like pushing on them to test their strength and Steves like what are you doing? and billy, as he finds the right table, just licks his teeth and says i guess youll have to find out

Billy hadn't been picky about any of the other furniture in their new place.

He barely voiced on opinion on the bedframe, and only picked one second-hand couch over another because he said it had better ass feel. He didn't care which chairs they got for the dining room (mismatched ones) or that the dresser for their bedroom was the ugliest shade of babyshit yellow ever seen by human eyes.

But for some fucking reason, he cared way too much about the goddamn dining room table.

"Billy, this one's fine." Sure, it was a little flimsy. Definitely not real solid wood, but that was good. That was within their budget. It sat eight people and would be perfect for DnD campaigns, what more could they ask for?

"We just need to keep looking. It's not right."

Steve rolled his eyes.

"We've been to every single thrift store within a twenty-mile radius, this one is fine."

Billy pressed on the table again, shoving it around. It scraped against the floor, causing several people to whip their heads around to see who made the horrible screeching.

Steve was fucking mortified.

"God, if you don't like this one, then let's just go."

"Hang on, shithead." Billy rounded the table, pressing against the next one in the same way. He was standing at the head of it, feeling how high it came up against his thigh, pushing and knocking on it. "I like this one."

Yeah. The expensive one. The one that says it's solid oak and costs four times as much as the other one.

"Billy, no."

"No, Stevie. This is it. This is the one." And he looked Steve dead in the eye, and thrust his hips ever so slightly against the table. "This'll do nicely."

"What do you even mean by that? What are you doing?"

He looked Steve up and down, checking him out in that insatiable way that always makes Steve a little bit hard and a little bit sweaty.

"You'll have to find out."

He grinned at Steve, licking over his teeth, and moving past him to flag down an employee, shoulder-checking Steve on his way past because he knows Steve likes being knocked around a little bit.

-

Billy was nearly attacking him the second they heaved the table up the two flights of stairs, and wrestled it through the doorway into their apartment.

It was two bedroom, with cheap laminate floors throughout. It didn't have AC, the shower was a joke, and the kitchen was minuscule, but it was all theirs.

The had decided the smaller bedroom would be a good dining space. It was right off the main living area, with large double doors. Steve had been hoping for a space to bring their friends over. To cook for them and have game nights.

And apparently, Billy had been hoping for this.

"Bend over the table."

Steve grabbed a fistful of blond hair, tugging Billy back to glare at him.

"You absolute psycho! Did you seriously make us buy a giant table we can't afford, just so you can fuck me on it?"

Billy narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, please. Like you don't have some little housewife fantasy. Making me dinner and setting the table all nice. Letting me fuck you while our food gets cold."

"That was one roleplay."

Steve rolled his eyes as hard as he could.

And bent over the table.

[calumfmu]

drunk!steve harrington x fem!reader

(fluff; wc- >1k)

okay but can you imagine being at a party, laying in a random bedroom, trying to stop the world from spinning around you. you’d been laying there for the past 30 minutes in the dark, praying that the drunkness was waring off at that point. it had actually started to work until you heard someone stumble into the room.

the lights still off you couldn’t tell who the person was until they threw themselves next to you and turned on the bedside lamp.

“oh hello” you heard the voice say next to you, looking up it was steve harrington, boy toy. he was in his classic, knit sweater pushed up to the elbows, khaki, white converse. you would never admit it to anyone but his classic was the type of stuff you saw in your dreams at night.

you didn’t know how to speak to him. he hadn’t looked your direction—ever, and the only reason you were in the same vicinity was because one of your friends begged you to go so she can get sight of eddie.

“what do you want?” there was a bite behind your voice, slight albeit still there. steve made a small frown, lip jutting out in an over exaggerated pout.

“that’s not very nice of you” he sighed, scooting down so his head was at eye level with you. his hair fanned out around his head, hands crossed gracefully across his chest. he was drunk, glazed eyes blinking slowly at the spinning ceiling fan.

“i had the room first.”

he turned his head to look at you before shifting his body so he was facing you, the both of you curled into each others directions.

“and i had it second, yn.”

your heart made a jump, falling into your stomach as you realized he knew your name.

“you see, i was hoping,” he began, voice deep with the drowsy effect of the alcohol on his system. hiccups teetered on every other word of his. “that i could just lay here and ac-” hiccup “-quaint myself with a new” hiccup “friend.”

you quirked an eyebrow at the ‘friend’. he chuckled, noticing the expression.

“okay fine. im piss drunk,” and another hiccup “i can’t focus on anything right now and just really need to sober up”

and there he was, classic steve. you rolled your eyes, humored by him. a conversation quipped up between the two of you, beginning at the topic of small talk at the party to more, intricate details of your personal lives.

the things you talked about that night were miscellaneous, random thoughts. they were topics you both clicked on though, laughter echoing through the room as his poorly constructed dad jokes interrupted your stories. he was funny after all you discovered. there was more up there in that brain other than the farrah fawcett hairspray fumes.

“yn?” he asked, laughter still on his breath. you stared up into his eyes, watched as they crinkled at the corners.

“im glad i met you tonight.”

biting your lip in excitement, you flushed in the face—red pooling at your cheeks.

“me too, steve.”

“you’re beautiful, yn,” he continued, voice dropped into a whisper. his face was closer to yours, your gaze falling down to look at his lips. “truly so… so beautiful”

he leaned in slowly, glancing into your eyes once more before his lips met yours. it was unsure at first, steve testing the waters as you leaned into the kiss further. as you took his lips between yours, you wish you could say that it was fireworks, something you’d seen described in a teeny magazine—but it was so much more. it was a pulsing sensation throughout your entire body, a proclamation of a feeling you had never explained before.

he pulled away after a moment, licking the taste of you off of his lips. steve placed a small peck on you again, before shutting his eyes with again with a smile.

he sighed, contentment behind his voice, “time to sleep, yn.”

and you closed your eyes, tucking your face into his chin, corner of your mouth tugging into a small smile. you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to not be giddy over the moment. a giggle threatened to explode from you but you fought it back, chewing the inside of your lip. his arm came to lay at your waist, steve sighing as he made himself comfortable as well.

and if the two of you fell asleep face to face that night, no one would know. his arm draped over your waist, nose pressed into the top of your hairline as you curled up into him.

you two wouldn’t talk about it come monday morning when school was in session. you would walk by him and he by you, arm wrapped around a different girl than the previous week. you would spare glances at each other, small smile on your face as you saw him wink in your direction, hidden from his group of friends.

that night was something special between the two of you, something that couldn’t be taken away. it was a secret you both shared, a memory meant that would only be dreamt of at night in the dark of each other’s rooms.

[yelenasdiary]

hi, I only recently saw your Yelena Belova x Reader! Super Soldier and I really liked it, idk if you did but can you make a part 2 or write something similar to it?

Whispers of Hydra

Pairing: Yelena Belova x GN Super Soldier! Reader

Summary: Life was peaceful until a knock at the door reminds you of what you were designed for.

Angst & Light Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of Red Room, Trauma, Scars, Hydra, Mentions of the conditions of Red Room, Mentions of brain washing, Mentions of weapons, Mentions of blood| 1.6K

AC: Thank you for sending this! It made me miss these two so much! I had so much writing this one that I am 100% open to a part two!!  I hope you enjoy! x

The fireplace crackled, casting dancing shadows on the log walls of the cabin. Outside, the wind howled a soft lullaby like song through the tall pines that helped keep the cabin hidden from any hikers that dared to tackle the harsh conditions of the mountain. In the kitchen, Yelena, stirred a pot of stew she had been making for the last two hours while you sat in a worn armchair taking in the peace that you both had created. 

From the armchair, you could see Yelena stirring away at the pot of stew, watching as she was focused on making another tasty meal for the two of you. You pushed yourself up from the armchair and wandered over to the doorway that separated the small living room and kitchen. 

“You know” you began, your voice soft, “you’re a much better cook than I ever was”.

Yelena scoffed, looking over her shoulder at you, “I knew that when you set fire to the toaster trying to make pop-tarts!”. You chuckled lightly, “that was an honest mistake”.

“Well, maybe if you watch me cook, you might learn something!” Yelena replied, a small chuckle escaping from her as you pushed yourself off the doorframe and made your way over to the blonde. You wrapped your strong arms around her waist, resting your chin on her shoulder, “I guess the tables have changed” you smiled softly, “teach me to cook” you added.

Yelena naturally leaned back into your hold, her free hand softly finding yours, weaving her fingers with yours. “So, you remember” she said softly. A faint memory of when she was just a young adult in training while you told her commands to spar against her fellow widow. Your eyes slightly dropped, “I do but I don’t want that to ruin this moment” you replied, watching as the wooden spoon circled the pot. 

The shared history was complex. You had been one of Yelena’s trainers in the Red Room, an almost mythical figure in the blonde’s younger life. To you, you were nothing more than a weapon to cause harm, to train others to cause harm but to Yelena? You were everything she didn’t know she needed. You had been forced out of the Widow training program before Yelena’s graduation, leaving a void that nothing and no one had ever filled. 

Natasha was the one that found you with the help of Steve and Bucky. Hydra’s grasp on you was strong, your brain washing was severe with a tangled web of false commands and implanted memories. Nothing seemed to work, no therapy or desensitization. You were injected with the super serum well after Steve and Bucky’s time, leaving Bucky to be somewhat thankful that his therapy and treatment worked but seeing you suffering daily tore at every body's strings. When things didn’t look to be getting better for you, it was Natasha that took the risk and brought in a reluctant Yelena to the compound hoping that maybe if you saw somebody real from your past, it might break Hydra’s toxic hold. 

It had, like a tsunami flushing out all the horrible things you were made to do. It took some time for Yelena to rebuild her trust within you by reconnecting with her, your mind allowed the therapy and desensitization to work its wonders and finally free you from Hydra. 

Now, trying to live a life of normalcy, you and Yelena spent your quiet days hiking through the woods, creating new memories together and now Yelena teaching you to cook was added to the list of things you wanted to fulfill in your new life.

“Do you mind handing me the pepper?” Yelena asked, respecting your wish to not dwell on a memory that was still so fresh to you. 

----

A week later as a harsh winter storm began to descend, blanketing the woods in a thick layer of snow. Yelena was in the city, helping Kate with a lead on a mission, leaving you at the shared home. You didn’t mind, you enjoyed the peace and a little down time to yourself, but it was the weather than made you uneasy that morning. As you pour yourself an extra hot mug of black coffee, a knock at the door echoed through the wooden cabin. 

Your body tensed in a familiar sense of readiness as you slowly and quietly walked over to the door on cautious feet. A hidden knife in arms reach for protection, you peeked through the small peephole. A tall, broad figure stood on the porch wearing a long, black trench coat that failed to hide the weapons at his belt. 

As you opened the door, allowing the cold wind to rush into the warm cabin, the man was large and his face showing no expression as he held a small metal case in his gloved hand. “I believe this belongs to you” his voice was rough, deep and laced with an accent you hadn’t heard in a long time. “I was told you’d come here, that you went soft”. 

“Who sent you?” You asked, keeping your posture on alert for anything.

“That is not important. What’s important is this” he tossed the metal case to you, landing at your feet with a dull thud. 

Not taking your eyes off the unknown stranger, you leaned down and picked up the case, opening it to find a familiar set of files. Images from the Red Room back in the day but most disturbingly, a picture of you and Yelena that had been taken only a few days ago. Your blood turned to ice knowing that the peaceful sanctuary you and Yelena shared had been breached. You weren’t forgotten like you had hoped. 

“This isn’t going to work” you said, your voice dangerously low.

The man laughed, “I thought you’d say that” he said, drawing his weapon from his coat. “There’s a big number above that head of yours, soldier!” He added. Quickly, you raised the metal case to your face, blocking the bullet that was meant for your face. The fight was brutal, fast and explosive. Years of training and somehow you managed to not forget a single thing. You skillfully dodged the soldier’s attacks. Blocking the flurry blows that would have broken the ribs of any ordinary human. 

His gun now knocked out of his hand, you kicked it to the side, making sure it slid out of arms each before you threw the soldier across the small cabin, sending him into the support beam. He grunted as he hit the floor before shaking off the blow and launching himself back at you. Throwing a punch at you that you were able to block and delivered him a left hook that sent him reeling. 

The soldier laughed, “you’re not as fast as you used to be!” He said, spitting out blood onto the wooden floor. He looked at you for a brief moment before pulling out a second weapon, “you’ve spent too much time being soft!” He said, breaking the silence as he charged towards you. 

Using your enhanced strength, you grabbed the man’s weapon, wrenching it from his hand. “Or maybe you’re just weak!” You spat as you spun, using the barrel of the gun to deliver a sharp blow to the soldier’s temple. His lifeless body felt, sending a thud through the cabin as his blood pooled around him. You dropped the gun in relief as your eyes dropped to the floor, watching his blood river over the photos of you and Yelena on the floor.

“Y/n!” Yelena called in a worried voice, rushing over to you. “Y-you’re hurt!” She said, looking at your face. You didn’t hear her motorcycle roaring up the snowy mountain, you barely even heard her voice over the shock that took over you. It had been so long since you took the life of another person. 

“I…I’m fine” you stuttered as your eyes slowly looked up at her. 

“Who is that?” Yelena asked, stepping over the body to get to you. “It doesn’t matter” you replied as Yelena gently cupped your face, wanting to draw your attention to her. “They’ll just come back” you added. Yelena could see the fear in your eyes, the realization of the danger that they were now in crashed over her like a wave. She knew that the peaceful life was now gone but she refused to let you see her own fears. 

“Then we’ll fight them” she said in a low, soft whisper. 

The weight of the fight fell heavily on you; after removing the lifeless body from your shared home and Yelena cleaning up the blood left behind, the next few days were spent in a tense silence. Fear of the unknown taunting you. Each night Yelena woke up to find you staring outside the window over the snow-covered woods. She wrapped her arms around you from behind, pressing her back into your back.

“I’m afraid too” she whispered, her voice trembling.

You turned around, her green eyes filled with fear as you pulled her into a tight embrace, “I’m afraid they’ll take you away again” she admitted. 

“I promise you, they won’t” you replied, your voice firm. “I won’t let them” 

“We…” Yelena started, pulling away to look up at you with her eyes now filling with tears, “We could leave, find a new place. Tell nobody” She suggested but you shook your head, “baby, I’m not going to take you away from your family and friends” you said, gently cupping her face, “I’m done running” you added. 

Yelena nodded softly, “then we fight them together. Promise me…. promise me we’re in this together”

You hated knowing that Yelena was in just as much danger as you, that you were the one that put her in this position. “I promise” you replied softly, placing a kiss on her forehead. You knew better than to argue and if you were being completely honest, you needed her just as much as she needed you.

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[wroteclassicaly]

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Warnings: Dry humping, Steve comes in his pants, language, overall NSFW, mild mentions of roleplay with Steve’s old highschool title, some touching, & Steve tasting the reader off his fingers.

A/N: I get extremely thirsty for Steve, especially when we get new JK content (we’ve been fed)! This fic was inspired by this post… Hope y’all enjoy?! 🤭❤️

If you ask Steve Harrington what his favorite smell is, he’s always going to have the very same answer. You. Hell, you accumulate all of his senses; taste, touch, sight, hearing, and smell. When he isn’t looking at you, doesn’t have his hands on you, isn’t buried with his tongue between your legs or his fingers inside to sample, hear your soft whimpers or pleads, loud yells during your sassier moments, your voice crying out for him, when he can’t smell your perfume on your soft skin, maybe even your body lotion - whatever product you like to lather on — he goes insane. So it’s no surprise that your chlorine soaked skin had driven him to his very brink, causing a defined pout to capture his Cupid’s bow as you slighted his advances to go and take a post-pool bath. No amount of that cute little pearly white smirking that he did, promises that he didn’t mind - none of it worked.

Steve had sulked to the guest shower, retreating after in a new pair of jeans, relaxing on his living room couch, nursing a beer and a sturdy irritation. It wasn’t hot, no, the AC worked fine, but as he ran his hand through his fuzzy sternum-clad mane, his imagination had catapulted beyond reason. He wanted you. His tongue was slick but it wasn’t with you, his fingers dry, his nose inhaling his own apple and cedarwood body wash. He’d looked over and it wasn’t you he saw, just a condensed soaked brown bottle overflowing on the coaster.

“Stevie? Is that the last beer, baby?” He perked immediately, the soft pudge of his stomach squishing against his belt as he leaned up to indulge in two senses; sight and sound.

You’d brought your own toiletry bag, and he was smacked in the face with your delicious fragrance. That, and your baggy t-shirt with a faded logo on it that you had thrifted for lounging purposes, complete with your white cotton panties that had a pink daisy on the crotch.

He needed you.

You barely have time to wash down some sips of your boyfriend’s beer and he’s wrapping his arms around you from behind, letting out a growl in your ear as he falls back onto the couch with you. “Jesus, Steve.”

“I know it’s Sunday, but only King Steve is here, honey.”

“Are you still in your glory years, babe?” You snort softly, even though you are aware of what he’s about to respond with.

“You’re the only one that can call me that now, and, as I recall, “— he cuts himself off, leaning into a sitting position, taking you with him, “— it makes you cum pretty fuckin’ hard, sweetheart,” he rubs a calloused thumb behind your ear, trickling down towards the lobe, before continuing, “and you love how mean I get. Just like highschool, but your pussy is all for me this time.”

You let him maneuver you onto him into a straddle, watching him collapse onto his back, his hands on the fat of your thighs, blown hazel scattering those green specks into the black expanding abyss of his pupils. You don’t bother to deny it, you love playing the nerd that he never looked twice at and he takes on that crowned cocky role, letting your old highschool hierarchies stay in the past, but being able to have fun with them. You take his defined digits as he offers them to you, linking together, pushing them beside his head as you press to him, breasts smashed into his naked chest. Steve expected to take control, ravage you first, however — you shock him. Your teeth nip at his stubble bitten chin, licking your way underneath his jawline and across his jugular, just in time for him to swallow against your kisses. Apparently you’ve needed him just as much, if the newly accumulated warmth in your panties is anything to go by.

Steve can feel it sinking through his denim wash jeans, that sopping wet spot in your cute little panties as you begin to roll your hips back and forth, thighs tightening around his trim waistline. You raise to a height, moving above him, tossing your head back and letting your eyes close. His thick cock swells embarrassingly fast, even for him. You give little mewls in response, taking your still linked hands up and sliding them beneath your shirt, encouraging him, but never letting him get his fill without your guiding hands. Steve surrenders to it, sweat already slicking his chest and matting the hair back, his dick painfully pressing on his zipper.

He tries to plead for you to let him get some relief, but you merely shake your head, too caught up to register. He’s so thick and warm beneath you, dragging along your soaking wet cunt just right, his bulge helping stretch your overly damp underwear over your clit on every thrust of your hips.

“Shit, shit… Honey, are you soaked? Feels like — fuck!”

He pushes your hands out of the way and rips your shirt over your head, you helping him discard it with an audible cast off, automatically letting him play with your tits. His thumbs rub, fingertips pinch at your nipples. His tongue is dry, wanting to kiss you, taste the cream from between your thighs, lick your salty skin. Through his quickening pulse that rushes through his ears, the glassy haze in his eyes — Steve looks down between your legs. He whines, giving you a heightened sense of power and pride.

His view is rewarding, aside from his raging need to cum, he sees the saturated, sticky crotch that darkens the daisy decor on your panties. And it’s seeping out all over him. A sudden tightness latches onto his muscles, clings like a vice, tickling him with an electrifying ache. His eyes widen, lips parting, a desperation he wasn’t aware could come from him appears, “Honey, I’m cumming. Baby, please —“

His toes curl, thighs tremble against yours, his back arching into the raw and untouched stimulation, and you push down, rocking in harder, faster. He’s done for. You spread your legs a little wider, right in time to see his orgasm darken his jeans in a rather… large patch. He’s crying out and panting your name, all the veins in his throat tensing and constricting as he rides the last of it out. It beckons you into helping yourself, his combined essence mixing with yours as you pull your underwear to the side and gently rub your clit back and forth across the mess, the scratchy material wet enough to not hurt.

“Good girl, that’s my sweet fuckin’ babygirl..” Steve has found his voice again, releasing one set of laced hands, reaching to spread your lips apart, his other palming your breast, before sliding up your neck to squeeze and letting his thumb press into your mouth. “Yeah, s’ a good sweetheart for me, sucking on my thumb as you rub this little clit in my cum,” he flicks your button with his thumb, “feel powerful making me cum like that, don’t you? Haven’t done that in years, baby. See what you make of me?”

He’s babbling, disbelief that he resorted to being unable to hold it, that fire too strong, his desire too carnal for you.

You lose control now, bowing over and letting his thumb rest at your lips, both hands raising to suction to his wrist. He licks his parched mouth, pushing his hips slightly to tilt you over the edge and into his hold. “That’s it. Fuck, that’s it, honey. Holy-fucking-shit!”

The coil in you snaps and Steve sees that translucent cream pour out of your opening and drip onto his jeans. You moan out his name, thighs quaking beyond your control, and you don’t protest him raising up to steal the last of your orgasm in a kiss, his thumbpad slowly working over to your clit to assist your climactic completion. Your heart is racing, lips parting from his with a smack, his finger stilling, swiping through your drenched seam to sample, bringing it up to finally have his favorite taste. You’re grinning, eager to pounce, knowing this night is not over.

Still, you can’t resist the urge to tease, trying to ease the shaking in your jello-fied limbs. “Mhm, looks like you’re gonna need a shower, King Steve, because the nerd just owned you. Can we time travel into 83 to tell you about that?”

With a still heaving, curly and chestnut colored set of tresses, Steve gets that look in his eyes. “You better get your ass upstairs, little girl. You’re wet enough to take me, so we’ll see who truly owns who.”

Mutual parties that belong to one another, but Steve is ready to play and you’re not ready to playfully argue…

// Eat me paragraph //