#love Keith being good with kids Tumblr posts

[corvus--rex]

Lance and Keith started dating early in high school, even before Keith came out and started his transition, and it's now just after college and they're engaged. They've been with Lance's family for the day, Sylvio and Nadia included.

The kids are 6 and 4 and have known Keith literally their entire lives. They were too young during various stages to understand what was going on, but they both know Keith's trans.

Needing a break, Keith is curled up against Lance in the living room, while Sylvio and Nadia are sprawled on the floor with a book each. Nadia's only just learning to read, but she already loves books. She's turning the pages, mostly looking at the pictures, when she looks up, interrupting Keith and Lance's quiet conversation.

"Tío Keef, why aren't there families in my stories like ours?"

It's been about 15 years since he's read a kids' book and doesn't understand where's she's going with this. "What do you mean, munchkin?"

Nadia puts her book down, turning to face him in all the seriousness a 4 year old can muster. "They all have a mami and a papi, but not - not -" her face scrunches as she tries to find the right word.

She doesn't need to find the right word, the realization of what she's asking hits him at full force. He sits up, leaning forward to meet her eyes. "You wanna know why there isn't anyone like me?"

She nods. "It's not fair."

It's an innocent question, but she asked it with such naive sincerity, genuinely upset that she didn't see her own family in her favorite books. It gave Keith an idea. He had a new sketchbook in the backseat of his car, a very recent art degree, and the few creative writing classes he'd taken.

Nadia's books didn't have her family in their pages, but maybe they could.

"Y'know what? I'll be right back."

He ran out to his car and back with the sketchbook, plus the mechanical pencil and ballpoint pen from his bag, and sat down on the floor with her, meeting Lance's confused look asking what the hell he was doing with one that said "trust me".

"Ok, munchkin," he said to Nadia, "If your stories don't have our family in them, how about we make a new story?"

Nadia's face lit up. "We can make a new one? With our kind of family in it?"

"We can, but I'll need your help."

Sylvio was pretending to read his own book, but Lance could see him listening in and sneaking looks at the rough sketches. That didn't last long, the book quickly forgotten in favor of throwing out wilder and wilder ideas for the story with Keith gently reeling him in. Sylvio was not one to be reeled in, and Lance soon joined them on the floor to help wrangle the kids' enthusiasm. They stayed there for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, neither one wanting to leave when their parents came to tell them it was time to go. They only stopped fighting it when Keith promised them they'd work on the story again.

He kept that promise, taking the kids out every few weeks, showing them what he'd done in between when he had time, and them continuing the story and illustrations.

After it was finished, he left it for a while, not forgotten, but resting. Eventually, he pulled the illustrations and their companion sheets of text from the shoebox-like storage box he'd gotten just for this, matching art to words.

Lance came home from work to their apartment that evening to find Keith on the living room floor, bristol board and printer paper in an organized chaos around him.

"Think it's really done?" Lance asked.

Keith sighed and leaned back against the sofa. There was one thing about the book he hadn't told anyone yet, but after the email he'd gotten earlier in the day, he finally could.

"Yeah I do." He paused and looked up, a little bit guilty, but mostly trying to contain excitement. "I found a publisher for it. They're a queer-owned company. I actually sent it off about a month ago and I finally heard back today. They love it."

It had started as a picture book, but evolved since then into something a little bigger. Nadia wanted cats - all different colors, and not little kitties, no she wanted lions. And the lions had to have knights to ride on them. Sylvio was the one to insist on a princess and that she had to be their honorary Tía Allura. Gradually, all of the knights and princess ended up based on people the kids knew, Keith and Lance included. It made sense and Keith loved it and the idea of family including the one you make for yourself.

When it came time for a name for this story of found family and adventures, Sylvio yelled "Defenders of the UNIVERSE!" at the top of his lungs in the middle of the park. Nadia had been taking a break from the playground, sitting next to Keith with her coloring pad. She'd drawn the lions from their story, facing out in a vaguely star shape, their tails meeting in the middle.

Keith asked for her opinion on a story name and also what she was drawing and without looking up from her coloring, she said "Its name is Voltron."

Keith put the two together, and when the book was published, its cover was the lions Nadia had drawn that day, only by Keith's hand this time, framed on top and bottom by the book's name: Defenders of The Universe, a Voltron story.

No one had seen the dedication, not until Keith got the advance copies, giving one each to Sylvio and Nadia in the same living room the story had started in. Nadia climbed into Keith's lap with it, Sylvio squeezing himself in between Keith and Lance on the sofa.

Looking over Sylvio's shoulder, Lance read it aloud.

"For Sylvio and Nadia, the original Defenders, this book wouldn't exist without you. Don't stop reading or dreaming."

[hexados-on-a-string]

soz for being radio silent for a while i got hyperfixated on eurovision

anyways the bakugan writers are cowards bc hydron living could have been so interesting considering he has. no family. no status. literally like nothing to go back to. and i think it would've been neat for him to become part of the resistance found family like. maybe i like happy endings too much but also hydron was just a kid and he deserved better. he needs some friends. itd be good character development too.

i mean i know they couldn't write it bc y'know. new vestroia ended there. but its fun to think about!!

[rootedinrevisions]

Cop Car

SUMMARY: You and Jake enter a restricted area to watch the planes take off. It's all fun and games until the two of you end up cuffed in the backseat of a car. Things only get worse when your dad, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell arrives on the scene. Loosely based on/inspired by Cop Car by Keith Urban because apparently my thing lately has been making fics out of songs.

WARNINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 3.5K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87

The faint roar of jet engines reverberated in the distance, a low hum that vibrated through the night air. You were wrapped up in Jake’s arms, your back pressed against his chest as you both lounged in the truck bed, staring at the vast sky above. There was a thrill, a kind of reckless energy, in sitting just beyond the "No Trespassing" signs, so close to the runways where the Navy's finest pilots took off.

Your heart raced, though it wasn’t from fear of getting caught. It was from being here, next to him. You felt the soft thud of his heartbeat as you lay back against his chest, your body cocooned in his warmth.

“You sure this was a good idea?” Jake’s voice was low, tinged with amusement as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

You grinned up at him, the glow of the airstrip lights casting soft shadows across his features. “Since when have you ever cared about breaking the rules?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. “Fair point. But if your old man catches us—”

You cut him off with a playful laugh, turning in his arms so you could look up into his eyes. “We’ll be fine. I’ve got a plan.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got a plan?”

“Mmhmm,” you nodded confidently, leaning in closer until your noses almost touched. “If we get caught, I’ll just tell them how much I love planes. They’ll understand.”

Jake shook his head, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll get us out of any trouble.”

You leaned back against him, your eyes flicking up to watch as another jet took off, its engines roaring to life and tearing down the runway before disappearing into the night sky. There was something magical about it, watching those planes cut through the darkness. You’d loved planes ever since you were a kid—since the first time your dad had taken you up for a ride.

Sighing contently, you snuggled deeper into Jake’s embrace, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back. The moment was perfect, just the two of you, wrapped up in each other. All the worries of tomorrow didn’t matter. It was just you, Jake, and the thrill of being somewhere you weren’t supposed to be.

“Hey, look,” Jake said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Another one.”

You followed his gaze, watching as a fighter jet lifted off into the air, its sleek frame disappearing into the starry sky. For a second, you imagined what it must be like for Jake—to be up there, soaring through the clouds, with nothing but the horizon ahead of him. You admired his ambition, his drive.

“What’s it like up there…you know when you’re flying?” you asked, watching another jet take off, its lights blinking against the darkness.

Jake’s laugh was low, vibrating through your body as his arms tightened around you. “It’s the best feeling in the world…besides being here with you.”

You smiled, tilting your head back to catch a glimpse of his face, the shadows from the runway lights dancing across his jawline. There was something about being here, just the two of you, that felt untouchable—like nothing could ruin this moment. It felt like the world belonged to just you and him.

But then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted it—the glow of headlights approaching from the other side of the fence. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Uh, Jake,” you murmured, sitting up a little. “We’ve got company.”

Jake followed your gaze, his jaw tightening as the headlights got closer. A black SUV with the words “Military Police” emblazoned on the side rolled to a stop just a few feet away from Jake’s truck.

“Shit,” he muttered, sliding out of the truck bed and extending a hand to help you down. His expression was still calm, but you could feel the tension rolling off him as the door to the SUV swung open.

Two officers stepped out, their faces stern and their postures rigid as they approached. The taller one, a gruff-looking man in his mid-40s with a salt-and-pepper beard, was the first to speak.

“You two realize this is a restricted area, right?” His voice was sharp, no-nonsense.

You exchanged a glance with Jake, your heart thudding in your chest. “Uh, yeah,” Jake said, holding up his hands in surrender. “We were just watching the planes. Didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

The officer’s eyes narrowed as his gaze shifted to you. “And you? You got identification on you?”

Your breath caught in your throat. You weren’t on base legally, and you knew it. While Jake was a Navy pilot with all the right credentials, you were just the daughter of one of the Navy’s most legendary pilots. That wasn’t going to help much right now.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “I… I don’t have any ID on me.”

The second officer, a younger man with a buzz cut, stepped forward. “Name?”

You hesitated, glancing at Jake before answering. His green eyes were serious, silently telling you to be honest. There was no talking your way out of this.

“Y/N Mitchell,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

The officers exchanged a glance, clearly recognizing the name. “As in Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell?” the first officer asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

You nodded, your heart sinking. “Yeah… that’s my dad.”

The older officer exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple as if already anticipating the headache this was going to cause. “Well, Miss Mitchell, you’re not supposed to be here. You’re aware of that, right?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Jake cut in. “Look, this is on me. I brought her here. She just wanted to see the planes. I’ll take full responsibility.”

The officer gave Jake a once-over, clearly unimpressed. “And you are?”

“Lieutenant Jake Seresin,” Jake said, pulling his Military ID card out of his wallet and handing it over. The officer examined it under the flashlight before handing it back, his expression still stony.

“You know better, Lieutenant,” the officer said, his voice low and stern. “You’re military personnel. You should know what ‘No Trespassing’ means.”

Jake clenched his jaw but nodded. “Yes sir, I know. I screwed up.”

The officer gave a nod to his partner, who immediately stepped forward and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “I’m afraid you’re both coming with us,” the younger officer said, reaching for Jake’s wrists first.

“Wait, is that really necessary?” you asked, panic rising in your chest as you watched them cuff Jake.

“Afraid so,” the officer replied, his tone almost bored. “Regulations.”

Your breath quickened as the officer turned to you next, holding out the cuffs. “Turn around, ma’am.”

You swallowed hard and did as you were told, the cold metal of the cuffs clicking around your wrists. The reality of the situation began to set in, and for the first time, a sliver of fear crept in.

Jake met your eyes, and despite the cuffs, he managed to give you a reassuring smile.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady, “it’s gonna be fine.”

You nodded, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. You wanted to believe him, but the weight of what could happen hung heavy in the air.

The officers escorted you and Jake to the back of their patrol car, opening the doors and motioning for you to get inside. You slid in first, Jake following closely behind, the door slamming shut behind him. The inside of the car smelled like leather and disinfectant, the overhead light casting a dim glow across your faces.

You slouched against the seat, biting your lip to keep from laughing at the absurdity of it all. Jake caught your eye and raised an eyebrow.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft as the officers stood outside making phone calls.

You nodded, resting your head against the seat. “Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”

Jake exhaled, his gaze drifting toward the flashing blue lights reflecting in the window. “Your dad’s gonna kill me.”

You let out a soft laugh, the tension easing slightly. “He might. But hey, at least we’ve got a good story now.”

Jake chuckled, leaning his head back against the seat, his eyes closing briefly. “Yeah, some story. 'Remember that time we got cuffed for watching jets take off?'”

You grinned, leaning your head against his shoulder. “You know, we could try to make a run for it.”

His eyes snapped open, and he turned to you, disbelief written all over his face. “You’re crazy.”

You shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Maybe. But you love it.”

He shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “I do.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of the situation fading as the minutes ticked by. Outside, the officers were still making calls, seemingly in no rush to let you go. But you didn’t care. In this moment, sitting in the back of a patrol car, cuffed and facing who knew what kind of trouble, all that mattered was being here with Jake.

He glanced over at you again, his expression softening as he took in the way the blue lights danced in your eyes. He couldn’t help but think how beautiful you looked, even in a situation like this. And for a second, all his worries about tomorrow and whatever consequences awaited him melted away.

“Your dad’s never gonna let me see you again, is he?” Jake asked, half-joking, though there was a hint of concern in his voice.

You smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “We’ll figure it out.”

Just then, the familiar sound of car tires on the gravel made you both look up. The unmistakable silhouette of your father, Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, appeared in the distance, his boots crunching rhythmically against the gravel as he approached the patrol car. The blue and red lights cast long shadows over his form, and even from inside the car, you could see the tightness in his jaw and the intensity in his eyes. He was pissed, no doubt about it.

Jake shifted beside you, his relaxed demeanor faltering for the first time since the police had shown up. His face fell, the reality of the situation finally hitting him. “This is gonna be bad,” he muttered under his breath, glancing sideways at you.

You could only nod, your stomach twisting with a mix of dread and embarrassment. If there was one thing that had always been constant in your life, it was your dad’s protective nature. And now, seeing him storming toward the car—where you sat in the back, hands cuffed, with Jake beside you—it felt like you were about to face the full force of it.

Just as Maverick reached the car, the officer nearest the door gave you and Jake a nod, his face stern as he reached for the door handle. 

“Alright, out you two,” he said, his voice gruff but controlled. 

He opened the door, and the cool night air rushed in, cutting through the warmth of the enclosed space. Jake was the first to move. He slid out of the seat with a quiet grunt, his wrists still bound by the cuffs as he straightened to his full height. The officer standing nearby gave him a once-over, clearly unimpressed, before placing a hand on Jake’s arm to guide him to the side of the car.

Then it was your turn. You followed Jake’s lead, scooting across the seat and stepping out into the gravel. The moment your feet hit the ground, you felt the weight of everything hit you all at once—the flashing lights, the tension in the air, and your dad’s unwavering gaze locked on the two of you. The officers didn’t waste time; you were both led a few paces away from the car, standing side by side as Maverick looked between you and Jake with that intense, assessing stare.

Jake, to his credit, stood still and silent, his jaw clenched tightly. You could sense the regret rolling off him in waves. His shoulders were stiff, and for once, he seemed unsure of what to say. Not that there was much he could say to fix the situation.

Maverick’s eyes moved between the two of you, taking in the sight of his daughter cuffed and standing beside Lieutenant Jake "Hangman" Seresin. His frustration was palpable, but the way he lingered on you for a second longer made your stomach twist. This wasn’t just anger—this was disappointment.

The older officer cleared his throat, drawing Maverick’s attention for a moment. “Captain Mitchell, sir,” he said, more formally now, clearly aware of the gravity of the situation.

Maverick’s gaze didn’t leave you and Jake, his arms crossing over his chest. “What’s going on here?”

The officer quickly explained, outlining how they’d found you both in a restricted area and how neither of you had proper authorization. The moment he finished, there was a beat of silence. Maverick’s eyes narrowed as they settled on Jake.

“Lieutenant Seresin,” he said slowly, his voice deceptively calm, “care to explain why I’m getting a call in the middle of the night saying my daughter’s in the back of a patrol car with you?”

Jake straightened up, squaring his shoulders. “Sir, it’s on me. I brought her out here. I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t,” Maverick cut him off, his voice sharp. “You didn’t think at all, clearly.”

You winced at the harshness of his tone, knowing this wasn’t going to go over well. The officer standing beside Jake glanced between the two men, but remained silent. Maverick’s gaze shifted to you, and the weight of his stare made your heart sink.

“Y/N, you know better than this,” Maverick said, his voice firm but with an edge of concern. “You know what happens when you break the rules, especially on a military base. What were you thinking?”

You looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Maverick sighed, running a hand through his hair before turning to the officers. “Can you take the cuffs off?”

The younger officer hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod. “Sure, Captain.” He stepped forward and unlocked Jake’s cuffs first. Jake gave a slight nod of thanks but didn’t move otherwise, still standing rigid beside you.

Then it was your turn. The officer released the cuffs from your wrists, and you immediately rubbed at the sore spots where the metal had bitten into your skin. The weight of the cuffs was gone, but the tension hanging between the three of you was suffocating.

Maverick gave the officers a short nod, signaling for them to step back. Then he crossed his arms again, his eyes flickering between you and Jake. “You two are lucky it was just the military police who found you,” he said, his voice low but filled with authority. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened if this got reported up the chain? You’re both smart enough to know better.”

Jake shifted beside you, finally finding his voice again. “Sir, I take full responsibility. Y/N shouldn’t get in trouble for this. She was just with me. If there’s any punishment, it should be mine.”

Maverick’s gaze hardened as he stared down Jake, a long silence stretching between them. Finally, Maverick spoke, his voice cold. “This isn’t about punishment, Seresin. This is about trust. You’ve got my daughter out here, breaking rules, putting herself in a dangerous position, and you didn’t think for one second about what that means?”

Jake flinched, guilt flashing across his face. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to put her in danger.”

Maverick exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he turned to you, his expression softening just slightly. “You okay?”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the situation settle even heavier on your shoulders. “Yeah… I’m okay. I’m sorry, Dad.”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Maverick said, his voice gentler now, though the tension still lingered. “But you’re coming home with me.”

He turned back to Jake, his face hardening again. “And you, Lieutenant… this doesn’t go on your record, but if you’re serious about my daughter, you’d better start using your head.”

The night air hung heavy as Maverick walked back toward his car, his command still lingering in the space between you and Jake. Though the cuffs were off and the immediate crisis seemed to be over, you couldn’t shake the knot tightening in your chest. Maverick wasn’t letting this slide easily, and both you and Jake knew it.

“Lieutenant Seresin,” Maverick called out, his voice stern and carrying authority, making it clear this wasn’t a request.

Jake, who had been silently rubbing his wrists, snapped to attention. He straightened up, his posture rigid, falling back into his role as a Navy officer. “Yes, sir.”

Maverick’s gaze hardened as he took a step closer, his voice unwavering. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to say goodnight to my daughter, and then you’re going straight back to your quarters. No stops, no detours. Understood?”

Jake nodded, his usual confidence visibly absent. “Yes, sir.”

Maverick’s eyes narrowed slightly, the warning in his expression unmistakable. “And Lieutenant… Don’t think this is over because you apologized. You put her in danger tonight, and that doesn’t sit well with me. I expect better from you.”

Jake flinched at the words, his jaw tightening as the guilt in his eyes deepened. “I understand, sir,” he said quietly. “It won’t happen again.”

Maverick held his gaze for a moment longer, then nodded toward you. “Go on. Say goodnight.”

Jake exhaled and turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of regret and something softer, more vulnerable. As he stepped closer, he hesitated for a second, glancing briefly toward Maverick, then back to you.

Without saying a word, he pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around you with a tenderness that melted the tension in your body. You let out a shaky breath, resting your head against his chest as the warmth of the embrace momentarily blocked out everything else—your dad’s watchful eyes, the police cars, the chaos of the night.

Jake leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead instead of your lips, a gesture that felt protective, as if he were trying to shield you from the weight of everything that had happened. “I love you,” he whispered against your skin, his voice rough with emotion. “This won’t change anything. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You nodded against his chest, your throat tight with unspoken words. “I love you too,” you whispered back.

Jake squeezed you gently one last time before letting go. You could see the strain in his expression, the regret hanging heavy in his posture as he pulled away. He gave you a small, reassuring smile as if trying to make everything feel less complicated, even though you both knew it wasn’t.

You reached out, pulling him in for one final hug, a silent goodbye filled with the promise that things weren’t over between you. Jake closed his eyes briefly as he held you, then slowly stepped back, his hands lingering on your arms for a moment longer before he let you go completely.

Turning away from you, he walked toward Maverick, who stood by the car with his arms crossed, his expression still stern but no longer as harsh. Jake gave him a sharp nod, acknowledging the silent tension that still lingered between them.

“Get going, Lieutenant,” Maverick said, his voice firm. “And don’t let me hear about you being anywhere other than your quarters tonight.”

Jake nodded, his voice steady but low. “Yes, sir.”

Without another word, Jake turned and headed toward his truck. You watched as he got in, glancing in your direction once more before he started the engine. The sound of his truck pulling away filled the quiet night, and soon enough, the taillights disappeared into the darkness.

Maverick let out a slow breath once Jake was gone, his rigid stance loosening ever so slightly. He turned toward you, his expression softening as he stepped closer, his eyes searching your face. “You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, filled with the concern of a father who had been shaken but was trying to hide it.

You nodded, though your heart was still racing. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Maverick sighed, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he pulled you into a hug. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he murmured, patting your back gently. “Let’s get you home now.”

You leaned into him, finding comfort in the familiar embrace, but even as you walked with him toward his car, your thoughts remained on Jake, his whispered promise still echoing in your mind.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three four

Steve’s eating a bowl of cereal, squinting in the morning light. He’s barefoot, wearing nothing but sleep shorts, and is considering going back to bed. He shouldn’t though; he has to be on time today.

Since the mall burned down, Scoops Ahoy is, annoyingly, no more. Robin thinks she has something though, some guy at Family Video who probably has the hots for her or something. Doesn’t matter though, Steve doesn’t really care what this Keith guys motivation is as long as it results in gainful employment for the both of them.

He really should shower.

Steve can see the pool from here, so he’s in a prime position to watch as Eddie pulls himself out of the water and makes his way to the back door.

This is the second time Eddie has come into the house, if you don’t count the emergency temporary over nighter in the bath tub. Well, it’s the second time Eddie has brought himself into the house, at least.

He waits patiently at the back door, like a cat waiting to be let in, and Steve opens the door for him, cereal bowl still balanced in the other hand.

He holds himself in that same way, flat of his tail curled up beneath him, giving him a little height, and he sits himself uncertainly in the middle of the kitchen floor, “hi Eddie.”

“Stee. Buddidy”

Steve gets him some celery from the bottom of the fridge and gives him the whole thing. They stand, and sit, together in comfortable silence, crunching their way through their respective breakfasts.

Steve watches as Eddie cautiously makes his way to the fridge once he’s done, looking to Steve with his his hand on the door, a question on his face, Steve nods, “yeah.”

Eddie opens the door, and Steve watches as he explores, carefully moving jars and condiments and stuff around, glass clinking quietly, before he opens the drawer at the bottom and pulls out a pear, carefully closing the drawer and door again after. He eats the whole thing, stalk, core, seeds, everything.

Steve washes up his dish, checking the time, “want to watch some TV?”

Eddie cocks his head, but follows Steve into the lounge. He sits, looking around, feeling the carpet under his hands, running his nails carefully through the pile until the TV catches his attention.

He moves closer. And then closer again, making Steve laugh when he taps a nail on the curved glass of the screen.

“I’m going to go shower, you shouldn't sit so close, it’s bad for your eyes.”

Robin does her make up in the car on the way over to Family Video, “how’s Eddie?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking, it really means a lot to me, how much you care about my well being.”

She sighs through her nose and rolls her eyes, and Steve tuts at her.

“He came in the house this morning, I left him watching TV.”

“Huh. I mean normally I would say it’ll rot his brain but, something for him to do would be good, right?”

“Yeah. And if I’m getting a job, we should try and teach him to use the walkie’s at least. In case there’s like an emergency or something.”

“A fruit and veg related emergency.”

“Yeah, kind of. We really need to figure out what to do with him, he can’t just sit in my pool forever.”

She hums in agreement.

It’s just starting to rain when Steve gets home, the first break in the nearly two weeks of sunny weather they’ve been having.

Probably won’t be sharing a beer with Eddie tonight then. Well, Steve hasn’t really been sharing, he’s been letting Eddie steal the last third of a bottle, which isn’t really the same thing.

Eddie’s actually sitting on on the couch when Steve gets in, which surprises him momentarily. There’s an empty container on the cushion next to him, Steve figures he found the grapes.

“Hey.”

Eddie turns to see him, smiling, clearly pleased to see him, which is a nice change of pace. Sure he knows Robin loves him, but she’s never actually openly really happy to see him unless she’s, like, drunk or high. And the kids. Steve knows they must at least kind of like him, but they’re all just little shits. Having someone to come home to who is genuinely pleased to see him is a really nice change of pace.

“It just started raining.”

“Raiiniing.”

“Yeah,” Steve points at the window, “uhm, wet. Uhm. Sky wet.”

“Et.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie’s eyes widen suddenly, scrabbling off the couch in clear panic, “Et! Et!”

“Yeah Buddy, what’s wrong-”

Eddie’s frantically slithering across the lounge carpet with what is a truly amazing turn of speed considering his anatomy, “et inied! Book! NO! NO!”

“Oh, shit! Your book,” Steve hops over Eddie’s tail, making it to the door and then sprinting across the grass, grabbing the book and bringing it back.

Eddie’s sitting in the door way, hands clasped together, watching anxiously, “it’s not so bad, just a little damp.” Steve holds the book out to show him where drops of rain have speckled the pages, “it’s not bad.”

“Not bad. Good,” but he’s still frowning, clearly concerned where the paper is discolored by the water.

“Wait,” Eddie does as he’s told as Steve runs upstairs for the hair dryer, plugging it in in the lounge and sitting on the floor, Eddie joining him with the book. “Here, feel,” he turns it on, pointing it Eddie’s way.

Eddie sticks his fingers towards it, and then pulls the back, startled. Then he does it again before watching Steve dry the pages of the book, “dry. Et inied.”

“That’s right buddy.”

“Stee Edidie budidy.”

“That’s right. Yeah.”

Eddie sits next to Steve watching nervously as Steve gets the final pages dried off, and Steve hands the book back.

Eddie grins, “thanks Birdidie,” and then darts forward to press his lips to Steve’s cheek. It's just a press, not a real kiss.

“Oh,” and then Steve chuckles when he realizes what’s happened, the behavior that Eddie's seen and is now mimicking, “no. Uhm. Thank you Steve.”

Eddie cocks his head.

“Wait, wait,” Steve takes the hair dryer with him, heading up the stairs again, and this time coming back with a handful of Polaroids, he shuffles them into a neat stack, sitting next to Eddie on the floor. “Right, this is Robin. Birdie.”

“Thanks Birdidie.”

“Yeah, that’s right, that’s Birdie, now,” Steve shuffles through, “Max,” he says pointing, “and El.”

“El. Max.”

It’s thirty minutes and two pears later, but Eddie seems to be able to identify everyone reliably from their photographs, “no, Dustin.”

“Dust bin,” Eddie replies, confidently.

“You know what, sure, dust bin. Let’s go with that. Kind of suits him, actually.”

Steve’s drinking his evening beer. The weather much better again today, but the evenings are drawing in, and the sun set has almost taken Steve by surprise with how early it’s painting the sky pink. Summer’s coming to a close. Which brings some urgency to the question; what are they going to do with Eddie? The pool isn’t heated, and it usually gets drained and covered for the winter months. It’ll definitely freeze over at some point if they leave it open like this, and there’s no way Eddie could survive that, could he?

Steve doesn’t know. There’s just too much they don’t know about Eddie.

Steve’s got his first shift at Family Video tomorrow, a closing shift with the manager, Keith. Apparently he wants to show Steve the ropes when it comes to shutting down the store; Steve figures just from that that he’s going to be stuck with more than his fair share of late shifts.

He wonders if Eddie’s going to miss his evening beer. He really should teach Eddie to use a walkie. Tomorrow, he decides, will be as good a time as any. Tomorrow morning, and then Steve can leave one with Eddie and take one to work with him.

At least he knows Eddie can get into the house if he really has to, if he gets hungry or whatever. He really could do with some sort of cover out here though. Some where to leave his book in case of the rain. Maybe put a couple of towels in there, some food in the cool box when Steve’s out, the walkie, that sort of stuff.

Eddie swims over, pushing his floating toy bucket along ahead of him in the water. There are things in it tonight, which is a first. Eddie puts his bucket on the side of the pool before pulling himself out to sit beside Steve.

He pulls something out of his bucket to show to Steve, “oh, it’s a pine cone. Hold on.” Steve puts his beer down to grab the encyclopedia, and Eddie duly swipes it. Steve flicks through the book wile Eddie sips the beer, “look, this is a tree.”

“Tee.”

“Tree.”

“Trrreeee.”

“Yeah, it’s a seed for a tree,” Steve shows Eddie the series of pictures, how the seed underground grows a little shoot that grows, eventually, into a tree.

Eddie fetches something else from his bucket, showing Steve, “trree?”

“Leaf,” Steve points at the leaf in Eddie’s hand, then, “tree,” as he points to the tree line at the bottom edge of the yard.

Eddie’s frowning at the page in the book, but he does nod, so Steve doesn’t push it any further.

“Steve do you know how early it is.”

“I know, but I don’t care, do you still have that tent you were playing around with last summer?”

“Camping, Steve, I went camping with-what do you want it for, anyway?”

“It’s for Eddie.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dustin’s tone changes to immediately helpful, “yeah, do you want to come and get it? I’m pretty sure I still have it-MAAAAA! MAAAAAAA DO YOU KNOW-”

Steve pulls the receiver away from his head while Dustin's hollering at his poor mother.

“Yeah, we know where it is, you coming now?”

Eddie’s holding a piece of plastic tubing, looking concerned, and watching Steve struggle with the worlds smallest two man tent, “it’s okay, I got this.”

Eddie tilts his head one way and then the other, like a curious bird, as Steve struggles. It takes a couple of failed attempts, not helped by the fact that Dustin couldn’t find the instructions, but it doesn’t take that long before the tent is ready. Steve sets it on the grass, the doorway edge butted up against the tiles that surround the pool edge. Steve fixes the guy ropes using metal tent pegs driven into the lawn. It’s not hugely spacious inside, just big enough to accommodate two medium sized dudes when lying down, just as long as those two medium sized dudes are super comfortable with each other, then it’s fine.

Steve goes backward and forward, lining the bottom with a couple of sleeping mats he also borrowed from Dustin, and then putting in a couple of towels, Eddie’s book, and rescuing the Rubik's cube and slinkie from where they've lain, ignored, on the side of the pool, “there, what do you think?”

Eddie moves closer, cautiously looking inside before looking back to Steve, “yeah, good. Go in, it's okay,” Steve nods and smiles and generally tries to be encouraging.

Eddie goes inside before turning to look out, sitting on his tail.

Steve sits in the doorway, “it’ll keep your book dry.”

Eddie ponders that a moment, touching his book, before looking up. He carefully touches the inside of the tent roof, “et inied?”

“Yeah buddy, that’s right. Good.”

Part six

[billthedrake]

BIG SKY

I won't lie to you and tell you that I've never perved on my brothers, but with Keith I managed to keep the lust in check. But objectively, my older, middle brother is a hunk. Even as I walked past security at the regional airport and saw him standing there waiting for me, I was struck by how attractive he was. 6-foot-even in casual summer clothes with a build that looked almost wiry-lean at first but was super solid when you got closer.

"Alex!" he called out to me to catch my attention. Then stepping up to meet me in a quick bear hug he added in a more normal voice. "So good to see you, bro."

OK, I mostly felt that normal fraternal affection and his excitement was rubbing off on as he clapped my lats through my polo shirt and I felt his own taut bod underneath some faded National Parks T-shirt he had on. At least I hoped his excitement was rubbing off on me. I was low-key dreading this trip and not so low-key resenting how much even the air ticket out west was costing me mid-summer, not to mention my share of the lodging costs.

Seeing Keith happy made it worth while. "Glad you could make it," he said, giving my shoulder a playful squeeze, as if we were still in high school and as if I weren't not taller than him. "I know it's not your thing."

I shrugged. I promised I wasn't gonna be an ass this week. I knew this meant a lot to Keith and to be honest I was glad and a little impressed he wasn't doing the typical Vegas thing, or even the typical Nashville thing. Keith loved the outdoors, so his buddies planned a week of fly fishing and light hiking in big sky country.

"Come on, Keith," I objected. "I'm glad to be here."

It was the right answer, but my brother couldn't help but tease me. "Dude, your idea of nature is Central Park." I had a carry-on that I knew how to efficiently pack, so we didn't need to wait for bags. I followed my brother's lead out toward the exit.

In addition to not being an ass, I had two related goals for the week: one, dial down the bitchy gay humor. I mean, I don't think of myself as bitchy or queeny or whatever, but I know these guys probably do, and I lived enough in the Midwest to know how my normal wit comes across.

And two: have fun.

"Look at you expanding my horizons," I said. Then as we stepped outside the doors, I saw a vista of the Rockies in the background. "Fuck, that's beautiful," I muttered.

Keith smiled, amused at my big city reaction maybe but I think also enjoying that I liked it here.

We got in his rental car and were on our way.

"You didn't have to pick me up," I said as I took in the scenery that unfolded in front of us, flat but also majestic.

"No need for everyone to get a car," he said. He gave a quick glance over at me. "I'm really happy you came, Alex," my brother said in that sincere tone of his that used to drive me crazy - I don't know it sort of seemed West Coast people talk super earnest about every fucking thing - but now it hit me in a certain emotional place. I felt bad that I even considered for a moment saying no to this trip.

"Of course," I replied. "Big step for you and Rebecca."

He grinned. "It is," he said. "We were taking our time, not rushing anything you know, and then all of a sudden, we weren't taking our time," he chuckled.

"It'll be great," I said. "You're a great couple."

He nodded and shot me another look. "What about you, bro? Anyone in your life these days?"

I wouldn't say I was the black sheep of the family, but whereas Keith and Mike were close with each other and close with our parents, I had established some distance.

"Nah," I replied. I about tossed out some bitchy-witty comment, but reminded myself that I was going to be a new Alex Miller this week. "I've been trying to date more seriously, actually," I admitted. "But that shit's hard."

Keith smirked. He was always the supportive brother. Whereas Mike could be the typical ex-jock, Keith had a protective streak about his kid gay brother. Still, he was sometimes amused by the differences between gay and straight life. "How so?" he asked.

"Man, I need a couple of drinks in me before I start in on that," I said.

"Fair," Keith replied. Maybe we weren't that different.

We drove for a bit more in silence before Keith spoke up again. "Listen Alex, I wanted to thank you again for showing us around New York on last visit. We had a blast, and it meant a lot to Rebecca, I know."

I muttered a thanks. I mostly was enjoying the big sky country unfolding ahead of us as Keith drove us to the place where we'd rented a couple of cabins for the week. But, yeah, I couldn't help but sneak glances at my big brother, looking hot as fuck as he relaxed in the driver's seat. Keith very much had the body I was working for - muscular but lean. I got annoyed with how straight guys made that kind of body seem effortless, though in reality, I knew they put in the work, too.

***

Mike was Mike. Pushing 40 and looking very much like the high school football coach he was - 6'3" with 230 pounds that was a combo of solid muscle and some married spread, including a slight beer belly that filled out the Ohio State T-shirt he had on.

"Alex!" his voice boomed as I stepped into the cabin. I set down my bags as he got up off the couch, where he'd been watching the Cubs game. "Guess the party's starting now," he laughed.

If Keith was the sincere, serious one of the Miller brothers and I was the wry, cynical one, Mike was happy-go-lucky one, like an overgrown kid who still hadn't gotten used to adulting. Even if we shared a lot of genetics, Mike looked the most midwestern, with fine, pale brown hair and a strong stockiness, and a booming Midwestern accent.

I felt his big body clasp mine and I could smell the body wash on him and feel the heat from his build. If I kept my lust for Keith well repressed, I hadn't been able do the same with Mike. We had a complicated history and the fact I'd sucked his meaty cock before made compartmentalizing that much harder.

"I'll let you guys get settled in," Keith said. "Dinner up at the big cabin in an hour?" he added. "But feel free to come up earlier if you want. We'll just be hanging out."

I got settled into my room and freshened up. The place we'd rented wasn't cheap, but it was pretty damn nice, I'll admit, and Mike and I had our own rooms in the smaller, secondary cabin, while the best man Ben and the other two groomsmen Ian and Nathan were sharing the larger cabin with Keith.

Mike was popping open a beer can when I stepped back into the main open living/kitchen area. "Vodka's in the freezer for you," he said. "Picked up your brand."

"Thanks," I said. Vodka-soda was my go-to, but after the long travel day, a martini sounded perfect. "You must think I'm a picky bastard," I said, half in self-deprecation.

Mike grinned. "Oh, I KNOW you're a picky bastard," he said, taking a sip of his beer. "It shows on your face every time your back home."

I shrugged. He had me there.

"How are things back home?" I asked, pulling out the vodka and the chilled rocks glass my brother had put in for me.

"Same ol, same ol," Mike said. "Cat and I are getting divorced," he said bluntly, like he wasn't dropping a bombshell."

"Jesus!" I exclaimed, setting my glass down on the counter. "Really?" then seeing his nod, "Fuck."

He gave a shrug but I knew my big brother was an emotional wreck beneath his boisterous personality. "Technically it's a separation. But writing is on the wall."

"How are Emily and Jase taking it?" I asked, referring to his kids, my niece and nephew.

"Fine," he said, blue eyes looking at me intently. "Maybe. I don't know, A."

"We don't gotta talk about it," I said.

"Thanks," Mike said reaching forward to clasp my shoulder and giving it a strong squeeze. It was friendly and brotherly and flirty at the same time. "I don't mind you knowing, bro, it's just some things can't be fixed, you know?"

"Yeah," I replied. His hand didn't leave, nor did his gaze relent. I lowered my voice. "You want some head, don't ya Mike?"

He gave a shy grin before his face grew bedroom serious. "It's all I've been thinking about since Keith told me you were coming."

I felt my throat tense up. I hadn't expected sex, not this soon, but the thrill of sucking my coach brother off was getting to me. "What about the other guys?" I asked.

His voice grew sultry. "I'll keep watch, A. Just work your magic. Please."

Before I had a chance to agree or to crouch down, Mike was leaning in. He was a little buzzed from the beer, but I loved his combination of relaxed and excited as we swapped tongues. This wasn't a first for us, but it was new territory, something we'd tried when we stole off surreptitiously last Christmas.

Even as we kissed I could feel him reach down, undoubtedly pulling down his shorts. "Please, A," he grunted into my mouth.

I nodded. Giving a quick look out the window.

"They're not coming to check on," Mike said with some horny exasperation. "Just suck my cock, man."

I wasn't sure I liked my brother in bossy mode, but I was into the naughty thrill of this. I crouched down and took a second to admire this hard tool. We had similar cocks, if I had to measure I was probably a half inch longer, while Mike Miller had about a half inch of extra girth. I ran my hands up his furry legs - if his middle had a softness, the legs were all hard muscle. I leaned in and traced my tongue up from the base.

"Fuck yes," he hissed. The tone was now appreciative and begging rather than commanding. Pariticularly as I teased the shaft some, wetting my big brother down before I craned my head up to position my mouth over his leaking head.

I tasted that sap, then the saltiness of his prick, as I went down on him. I'm not an OnlyFans expert at giving head, but I'm good enough. Even without his telling me, I knew I gave the best blowjobs my oldest brother ever had.

"Holy Christ, bro... yeah, just like that." I felt his fingers grip my head. Not roughly, more cradling my temples to encourage me as I went up and down.

I frickin loved my brother's dick. It's meaty and just enough of a challenge without being too much. I relaxed my jaw and willed my throat to cooperate as I began deep throating him at a good clip. Working up and down with long mouth strokes, feeling the thick rigidity in his bone spear my gullet in rhythmic succession. It's the kind of vigorous cocksucking that I can't kepe up for a long session, but I knew I wouldn't have to.

"Oh FUCK, Alex! FUCK!"

I felt the quiver of that hard cock and was being fed a healthy appetizer of pent-up sperm. I adjusted my sucking pace to milk out that load without overstimulating him.

"Oh shit," I gasped as I pulled off. I had a healthy sex life but brother sex was some of the hottest and made me feel like a starved man. "That was hot, Mike."

I looked up and saw a look of pure sexual contentment and gratitude. "Bro... you're the fucking best. Seriously."

I mean, I kind of knew that, at least in comparison to Mike's wife or his past girlfriends. But I liked seeing him happy and knowing I'd put him in that state. It was fucked up.

"Stand up," he urged softly. But Bossy Mike was gone and it was his normal buddy tone of voice.

That only made me more willing to do as he asked. I stood up, hardon aching. We'd done this before, maybe a half dozen times over the years. Sometimes I jerked off in Mike's presence after I'd sucked him off. I wanted to now, so I started undoing my shorts.

I got the surprise of my life to see my big stud brother kneel down. Right there in the kitchen of the rental cabin.

"Oh shit, Mike," I grunted. "Are you gonna?"

He didn't really answer. He just flashed a smile before his face got closer to my hardon. And before I knew it was feeling my brother's tongue on my dick.

It took me a second to even think. I looked out the window. The coast was clear. I absolutely didn't want anyone to walk in on this. But I also enjoyed the fact Mike was blowing me out here in the open.

I touched his skull like he had mine. Gentler, even, since I didn't want to spook him. Mike was better at this than I thought. Wisely, he didn't try to take too much dick in. Holding the base of my cock he worked the top in steady sucking motions. It was gonna work, all right. I was already turned on like crazy.

"Mike... I'm gonna..."

His lips and tongue worked me faster and he hummed around my prick. Then as I felt the first shot fire out into his mouth, he raised up off my dick and rapidly stroked out the rest of my cum. I fired a good five or six heavy jets, right on to Mike's handsome face, and splotching that Ohio State shirt stretched over his meaty body.

"Yeah... stud..." he encouraged, his blue eyes wide as he watched the last of my ejaculation.

I was breathing hard now and my dick twitched, even after Mike let go of it and stood up. I watched him pick up his beer and take a healthy swig. "I fucking hate the taste of cum," he announced, before taking another sip to wash the flavor away. "I don't see how you swallow, Alex."

I shrugged. "I don't know... it's the best part." I felt throughly drained, and yet the sight of my hunky big bro dripping with my semen was going to keep my boned.

Mike got self conscious all of a sudden and grabbed a napkin off the counter to wipe his cheek and chin of my seed.

The reality was sinking in. "That wasn't your first dick," I said softly.

He grinned. "I've been fooling around with one of my players. Graduated senior now. Yeah, yeah, I know that's dumb as hell."

It was my turn to reach forward and pat his arm. "Maybe. But it's hot as fuck."

That seemed to relax him. "I guess we got some catching up to do, huh?"

"Sounds that way," I laughed. I looked at my watch. "I guess we should make our way up."

Mike peeled off his shirt. He wasn't fit like Keith, but I loved the view of his body. For all our times together, I'd never seen him head to toe naked. "I'll go get a new shirt," he said, reaching down to pull his shorts back up.

My glass was no longer ice cold, so I swapped it for a fresh one in the freezer. I could use that martini. The first sips were great, and between it and the sex I was glad I'd come out here.

Mike came back out, with a polo shirt that was his version of dressy. He picked up his beer can and patted me on the shoulder. "I'm glad you came, Alex." He was surprisingly on the same wavelength as me.

"Me too," I said.

Mike paused and looked at me more intently. Then leaned in again. Soon we were kissing once more, not just a gotta-fuck kiss. But something else. I guess we'd figure it out this week. And try not to get into too much trouble.

[atiianeishaunted]

blue writing is lance's notes fyi anyway uhh character bios below !! long ass writing warning but worth it i promise chat pspsp | no notes version AND the transparent PNGS down at the end!

character bios:

Allura [???] | A lone princess who is burnt out and stressed out her mind, her only solace/stress relief being the garden she has where she can have peace and quiet, shutting her brain off while she does the tasks of tending to her precious plants and bugs. She tries her best to remain as friendly and optimistic as possible, if not for her own sanity, however thanks to the stress and pressure put on her, she has a tendency to lose her cool and sometimes shut down entirely. She has a passion for commanding and loves honing her fighting skills as that was one of the ways she bonded with her father. She more often than not can be seen in comfortable clothes, she doesnt mind dresses and does enjoy dressing up but will only do it when shes going out the castle or theres a meeting. | this gal couldve been an burnt out autistic queen DREAMWORKS, YOU COUDLVE MADE HER ICONIC .... let her be a dorky nerd whos a hater sometimes, pretty please

Takashi Shirogane | A garrison commander (no one is really sure of his job title to be honest with you..) who's insanely passionate about his job, to the point where hes willing to sacrifice it all if the garrison wills it. Anything to serve. He tries his best to fit in and be hip with the kids, he tries to come across as the 'chill' teacher, but students of his have reported that after a few months, any amount of chillness is thrown out the window. If not that, hes often not even in class, too busy doing missions he wasnt assigned to. He's intense. Very intense. Knows his way around words though for the most part, can be very convincing and a bit maniuplative, very goal driven. He means well though? Thats what he says. He always throws a quick sorry if someone brings it up with him, so that must mean something. | sorry in advance if you follow along with Sonder's story... unrelated but dreamworks wrote a banger antagonist without even realizing!

"Keith" Kogane / "Morse" | Unknown origins. He was a talented garrison pilot who could practically fly with his eyes closed, a jack of all trades, short tempered and prone to losing it but all things considered, the perfect cadet for the garrison's goals, he came out of nowhere practically, just poofed in like a ghost and wiped the floor with everyone. He really just needed a good guiding hand. No one is quite sure what gender he is, his androgynous appearance and tendency to respond to anything besides being called a girl have people baffled to say the least. He's very clearly not all there in the head either which goes hand in hand with his odd bursts of ego and then odd bursts of whining, these bursts often include talks that could only be described as cult-ish. People have their theories. Beyond those bursts, hes mostly very deadpan and quiet. But despite his strength and that intense feeling of fear and dread people get when they're around him, he's.. popular, somehow. Admired greatly for his devilish good looks. A universal appeal if you will. He doesn't seem to notice. Or perhaps doesnt care. Either way he's far too busy following Shiro around and treating him like the second coming of god to really indulge in romance for now. Lance's self proclaimed rival, Keith is also unaware of this. | also sorry in advance for this one if you follow sonder's storyline Lance McClain | A former Garrison cargo pilot who moved up in rank when Keith got kicked out. Keith is his rival and also all that Lance can talk about, even after the guy got kicked out and left for dead (Lance overheard some things while sneaking out past the teacher's lounge). He has a very noticable personality and loves to be the center of attention, hes still finding his footing and figuring out what he wants to do with his life and who he wants to be. Despite his many claims, hes not all that popular. He can't really flirt with girls all too well. His general goal is to be so well known so he won't ever be forgotten, hence why he begged his mom to let him dye his hair and get piercings (if he used Keith as an argument, thats none of your business.) (he saw keith dying his hair once or twice and instantly wanted to copy, its a bad habit.). He loves LOVES taking care of his appearance and is fairly vain, he has extensive routines and will freak out if he can't follow them. His ego and overbearing confidence is all to drown out his deep insecurities and fears. He tries his best to come across as a suave, cool, charming, awesome, any positive adjective really, person but in all reality he's a mama's boy, a dork, a loser if you will who has a love for the retro and is a huge gamer. If he must admit, he and Keith'd get along great actually, Keith ticks alot of boxes and honestly Lance deeply admires him and wants to be like him. | dreamworks dropped that lance was a gamer and loved retro stuff and then never talked about it again. sigh. Hunk Garrett | Hunk has many passions, mainly inspired by parents, he mainly specializes in cooking and mechanics, he enjoys tinkering with things, taking them apart to see how they work and working from there to see if he can rebuild it with 0 instruction, hes gotten good at it. He's Lance's childhood best friend, they're extremely close and are often seen constantly poking fun at eachother. Its all in good fun though. Hunk struggles extremely with anxiety and has a service dog back home that he left at home when heading to the Garrison as he worried he couldn't take care of it while studying. Despite his anxiety, he quite enjoys talking to people and sharing things he enjoys with them, he often tries to get over his fears by branching out and | I looked up his name from the old show because he deserves an 'actual' name, free my boy, he was done so dirty, also i remember when we all thought hunk had two moms (or was that just me ..) and i live by it tbh, two moms and a dad whos still active in his life, 3 whole parents for the greatest fella ever

Pidge Holt | Not much can be said about Pidge, they keep to themselves and don't share much about themselves. Just like Keith, their gender is often up to debate and when asked, Pidge will never give a consistent answer. They're a major tech wiz and with their talents, they're a complete menace. Pidge is prone to being mischevious and pranking others, often taking jokes a bit too far. They're egotistical and find that robots are their preferred companions in comparison to humans. | loser chronically online 13 year old who would tell you to kys, matt probably has to take away their electronics all the time LMFAO purposely made their outfit look a bit strange bc , theyre a kid whos a NERD /aff let them dress a bit stupid and let them cringe at it 5 years later ty

No notes version and PNGS below :-)

im insane about this reboot!! please reblog and im willing to elaborate if anyone wants me to <333 hrgfhrfg i really want this to take off bwaa

[say-al0e]

Breathe

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors DNI!

Summary: Blowing Steve in his car. That's it, that's the plot. (Ft a prompt someone requested a million years ago, sorry!) Warnings: Oral (M Receiving), kind of exhibitionism (in his car in the woods); that's about it. Pairing: Steve x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.6k

There were only a handful of places in all of Hawkins where you and Steve could truly be alone.

Though Steve spent most of his time unsupervised, parents away and large house left empty, that rarely meant you were left to your own devices. If anything, it often seemed to mean you were bothered more frequently.

Dustin knew where to find the spare key and, if it moved, had no problem picking the lock on the sliding back door. The break room at Family Video was a no-go because Robin was never very far away and there were cameras - those were tapes that Steve never wanted Keith to see. And it seemed that no matter where you turned, there were children demanding rides or friends lamenting the lack of entertainment in Hawkins.

Steve’s car, parked at the edge of town - away from Lover’s Lake and Skull Rock, the first places bored deputies and your gaggle of adopted children would look - was the only place you could find a moment of something resembling peace.

The dim moonlight filtered in through the window, filled the front seat and illuminated Steve’s side profile as he sat in the driver’s seat. It cast shadows across the bridge of his nose, glittered in the warm brown of his eyes - highlighted the fond amusement that brightened his eyes, his near natural state of being these days - as he waved a Twizzler between quips about Dustin’s latest adventure.

“Little shit called me at midnight,” he huffed, eyes narrowing as his gaze fixed on something in the distance. “If I have to drive him to, or pick him up from, Munson’s trailer one more time, I swear I’m gonna make him start biking. I feel like I’ve turned into a fuckin’ taxi service for wayward teenagers.”

Steve swore he hated complaining - rolled his eyes any time he was forced to listen to someone else drone on about this inconsequential concern or that one, though most concerns seemed inconsequential after facing Hell time and time again. He’d promised that complaints were off the table for the night, that neither of you would talk about work or the kids, but you’d been sat at the edge of the woods, parked in his car in the dark, for nearly an hour and he’d done little else.

“I had to wait nearly an hour last week.” You knew that - he’d left you waiting at his place, lying on his couch half-asleep - but that didn’t stop him from huffing once more as he reached for another Twizzler. “Who does this kid think he is?”

The complaints - generally good-natured, never malicious as neither of you would trade your relationship with the kids for anything - were not new. Neither was this thing between you and Steve. There was a base of friendship, a closeness you’d shared for years, that made the transition from friends to more a little easier.

To know Steve was to love him, and love him you did. 

Being able to reach out and touch him, fingers brushing the soft cotton of his t-shirt or gliding along the rough denim of his jeans as you watched a movie without pulling a questioning glance from him; being able to lift your head and nuzzle your face in his neck, lips pressing to his heated skin any time you wanted - it was maddening in the most wonderful of ways.

Every moment you spent with Steve, full of half-hearted complaints or laughter or rare moments of reflection after all you’ve endured together, was worthy of appreciation - even the moments you’d rather not relive. But before you could redirect his complaints into something else entirely, a groan tore you from your pondering.

Steve frowned, slumped in his seat and brought his hand to his eyes as he rolled his neck. “I think I’m getting old,” he declared, sighing heavily before turning his head to face you.

With a surprised laugh and a roll of your eyes, you reached out to steal the candy from his hand. “You’re twenty, Stevie,” you reminded him, “you’re not getting old.”

“I’d agree with you if we lived anywhere else,” he acquiesced with a thoughtful frown, “but I think all the fights are catching up with me. I totally get what all those old people mean when they say they know it’s gonna rain because their knees hurt.”

There was something so endearingly serious about his complaint, concerned about the state of his body after years of sports and fights and supernatural dealings, that you couldn’t help the soft laughter that filled the interior of his car. It mingled with the soft music, joined Steve’s own easy huff of amusement - happy to make you laugh, to see your smile - as you shook your head once more.

Despite the heat blasting from the vents, a hint of January chill still managed to invade the cozy space. It reminded you that a whole world existed out there, beyond the comfort of the bubble you and Steve so infrequently were allowed to venture to, and you sighed as you traced the slope of Steve’s nose - the curve of his jaw, the plush of his lips, the soft set of his eyes as he returned your studying easily.

“You’re kinda pretty, Harrington.”

Even in the pale light, you could see the soft pink dusting his cheeks as he waved a Twizzler as if to brush away the compliment. “And you have been really quiet tonight. What’s up?”

Part of you wanted to tease him - remind him that it was difficult to get a word in edgewise with his dozens of complaints - but the larger part, the part that fixated on the beautiful boy sitting beside you, decided to lean across the seat and press your lips to his.

Steve tasted of artificial strawberry, soft and sweet, and hummed a noise of pleasant surprise as he dropped the candy and lifted his hand to cradle the curve of your jaw. Warm fingers splayed across your skin, tugged you closer - eager to have you near, to have his fill of you - and you let him. 

Kissing Steve was an experience you swore you would never take for granted. Now that you’d gotten a taste of him, you were hooked. His embrace simultaneously set you at ease and engulfed your body in the most pleasant warmth. Being at the center of his attention still felt just as exciting as it had in the beginning; it was indescribable and, though he could sometimes get distracted, you savored the moments you had him entirely to yourself.

The warmth of his fingers bled into your skin, warmed you from within and shielded you from the bitter Indiana cold, and you eagerly melted into him. It wouldn’t be long before his hands began to wander, fingers dipping beneath the soft material of your sweater, and you couldn’t help the contented sigh that escaped.

When you broke the kiss, desperate to take a breath and selfishly eager to catch sight of him, Steve exhaled a stuttering breath. As expected, his cheeks were flushed pink and there was a dazed look in his eyes that took a few quick blinks to shake before he fixed you with a curious look. “Not complaining,” he began, eyes dipping back to your lips, “but what was that for?”

Without thinking, you mirrored his touch - lifted your hand to his cheek, brushed your fingers along the stubble lining his jaw - and hummed. “You looked pretty and I’ve just missed you, is all.”

Steve frowned, a confused little furrow between his brows as he inched himself closer. He tipped his head to meet your gaze, no longer entirely captivated by your lips as he considered. “We’ve seen each other every day this week,” he reminded you, never stopping the soft stroke of his thumb across your cheek.

Though Steve was confident, a flirt by nature, he sometimes had a habit of taking things literally. So, instead of taking offense, you bit back a smile and hummed.

“I know.” While you both worked during the week, you still saw one another most days - on lunch breaks, after work, in the mornings when you allowed him to go out of his way to pick you up - but you hadn’t spent more than a few moments alone between Robin and the kids. So, you emphasized, “I’ve still missed you.”

“Yeah, I -“ Steve cut himself off with a sharp inhale as your hand fell to his thigh, fingers raking over the denim. He always ran warm, even in the winter, and you could feel the heat radiating off him as the muscle tensed beneath your touch. “Oh. Oh, yeah, I’ve missed you, too.”

As he shifted, eager to be closer now that your intention was clear, you bit back your laughter and leaned in to press your lips to his once more. 

The longer you spent with Steve, the easier it became to see his true self. Though he could be suave, flirty and confident, it was clear that he was nowhere near the Casanova he once pretended to be. Beneath the hair and the charming smile, he was eager - excited to love and be loved in return - and you were glad to give him all the affection he could want.

Though you were content to spend the rest of your night kissing Steve, you had every intention of taking full advantage of the precious alone time. As his hands began to wander, falling from your cheek to your neck - slowly beginning to glide down in search of warm skin - your hand drifted higher. 

When your fingers brushed at the seam of his jeans, nails raking over the zipper, Steve made a pleased noise that made you eager to hear more. Every brush of your hand, every ounce of pressure applied to the growing bulge in his jeans, had Steve shifting his hips in search of more. 

Riling him up was easy and he never left you guessing how he felt. With each experimental swipe of your hand and eager press of your mouth, his kiss grew more intense. And while you would’ve taken the time to tease him on any other occasion, it had been long enough that you were desperate. So, without preamble, you popped the button on his jeans and tugged at the zipper.

Steve broke the kiss then, a breathless laugh escaping his lips as he glanced between your face and your hand. “Shit. I’ve really missed you.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you shifted in the passenger seat - attempting to get closer - and leaned in to nip at the hinge of his jaw. “Bet you say that to all the girls.” When he laughed, you hummed. “Your fault, though,” you reminded him as you slipped your hand into the denim and palmed at his length. “Your adopted kids keep interrupting us.”

“Even the babysitter deserves a night off.”

There was a self-satisfied smile on his lips when you laughed and you made no effort to tease him for the eager lift of his hips as you pushed past the final layer of fabric. There was a time for teasing and a time for quick release; though you wanted nothing more than to watch him fall apart completely, you would take what you could get in the moment.

Later, when the world managed to quiet around you, there would be time. You would be able to enjoy him completely, alone in the home that no longer felt cavernous when you used it as your escape, so you gave him exactly what he wanted. 

Though Steve expected a preamble, a teasing grin or laughter as he hinted at exactly what he wanted, you were more eager than he seemed to be. The moment he lifted his hips, you helped him nudge the denim down enough to free his cock. And instead of lifting your hand, spitting into your palm and beginning to work him up as he’d come to expect, a choked gasp escaped his mouth as you leaned in and traced the vein running along the underside of his shaft.

Warm brown eyes burned into your skin, watching your every movement as you wrapped your lips around the tip and lapped at the bead of precum. 

As you pressed yourself impossibly closer, ignoring the ache in your side and the uncomfortable press of the console and seatbelt buckle to your skin, Steve’s noises of pleasure made the time spent apart almost worthwhile. There was never any guesswork when it came to his pleasure, never any doubt that he was just as enthusiastic - if not more so - about the encounter as you. And his warm groan sent a jolt of pleasure down your spine as his hand fell to your head.

When you began to bob your head, setting a quick pace, Steve sighed. “Breathe through your nose,” he reminded you, fingers tangling in your hair as you pressed yourself closer and closer - a reminder he’d given you since the first time. “Just like that, honey.” He never pushed, never asked for more than he felt you were happy to give, but any time you decided to push yourself, he made sure you knew just how much he appreciated it. “So pretty, so good. Fuck.”

Steve swore, his hands flexing as he fought the urge to press - to lift his hips and control the pace, something you would’ve encouraged were it not for the confines of his car and the uncomfortable position you found yourself in - while you swallowed around his length. It was quick, eager and messy, not as common now that you knew one another so intimately. But you were delighted by the huff of your name and the moan that followed as you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes.

The week without intimacy left him desperate, eager for a release, and you knew that he would come sooner rather than later as his hips began to shift in search of your mouth. Any distance was too far, any pause too long, and you squeezed his thigh as you felt his body begin to tense.

There would be time later for him to return the favor - and you knew that he would return it with great enthusiasm - so you had no qualms about hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him as you urged him to fall off the edge without a second thought. 

As you hoped he would, Steve came with a groan - a sound that fanned the flames already lapping at your skin, left you overheating in your knit sweater - and you hummed encouragingly as you helped him ride it out.

When you pulled away, lifted your head and swallowed, Steve readily pulled you in for a kiss. His hand returned to cradle your jaw, keeping you as close as he could for a long moment, before he allowed you to pull away. As you rested your forehead against his, he fixed you with a searching look.

“I’m totally in love with you. You know that, right?”

Steve made it a point to tell you often. “You might’ve mentioned it before. Always good to hear, though. Wanna take me home and show me how much?”

A limited as your alone time could be, there was little stopping Steve once he set his mind to something. So with a grin and a final kiss, Steve buttoned his jeans and gestured for you to buckle your seatbelt before he set off in the direction of his house. He was right; even the babysitter deserved a night off every once in a while.

________________________________________________

Author's Note: I didn't realize it until right this moment but the last birthday fic I wrote was also giving a favorite character a blowjob in a car so. Don't know what's up with that.

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​

[bobbydagen24]

Honestly I loved Branch and Keith's little relationship in TBGO I Hope if we get a Third show he comes back even just for an odd episode here and there.

their relationship was just very cute to me he was almost like Branch's little bro but years before he canonically had Brothers lol.

plus the idea of a normal kid choosing to spend this much time hanging out with the village's local crazy paranoid conspiracy theorist was always very sweet to me.

and even tho Branch wanted to give his Hug to Poppy it is cute that Keith gave his one Hug on Hug day to him over anyone else 😭😭

anyway I Hope if we get a Third Tv Show he pops up again as he was absent from TT and that was kinda disappointing to me plus imagine Branch's brothers seeing him basically act like a big bro to this Random kid they don't know that'd be kinda funny and sweet.

if the Bros got all over the top emotional over their baby bro acting like a big bro

maybe Branch even throws casual shade at them about him being better at the whole big brother thing than any of them ever were 😂😂😂😂

and little Keith asks some awkward questions about how come he's never seen any of them around before or how come Branch never mentioned them.

and Branch jumps on the bandwagon and is like "" yeaaaahh good question Keith how come he's never seen you guys around before? ""

just to tease his Brothers and make them uncomfortable 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Never Took The Time (To Forget) part 4.1 : With a Capital 'P'

Part 4.2 (Hey Dingus? Idk, the title for that one is up in the air.) will be up as soon as I have it somewhere I like (doing a different character's pov instead of Hop so it's giving me some trouble). Felt really bad that I hadn't updated in a while and this one was getting longer than I expected and I hadn't even gotten Robin really talking yet so... Happy Valentine's Day?

Part 1 (Hop Fucks Up), Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce Edition), Part 3 (One of Us)

Family Video and the Arcade were two of the few businesses still operating after the inter-dimensional earthquakes that had tried tearing their town to pieces. Hop knew the kid who used to run the place for his uncle, Keith, had split town with his folks (said uncle in tow) leaving the store and arcade in the care of whatever employees had been willing to stay on payroll while the world fell apart.

He watches as Harrington's (more banged up than never remembers it being) car stops in front of the video store, parked parallel to the curb across at least 3 parking spots, as a wildly gesticulating Robin rolls herself out of the idling vehicle, jabbering loud enough that Hop can hear her voice from down the block. With most cars owned by the folks of Hawkins being commandeered by Owens' government goons to fill the gaps left by lost military vehicles it doesn't much matter but Hop can't help a bit of an eye roll at the kid's audacity.

But then again, he catches himself thinking, Steve was one of the only 'civilians' in-the-know and was well-known for carting around and protecting proven assets to the War Of The Worlds shitshow going on. So was there really an issue if the kid was one of the only cars on the road anyway and because he was even more read-in on the situation than even local law enforcement? If he was not only transporting and protecting people the government had a vested interest in but had proven himself more effective than even Hop and Joyce in wrangling the kids who had basically been saving the world for the last 4 years? If he kept them safe and out of harm's way in the thick of it but also kept them entertained and out from underfoot during the downtime?

Hell, the kid being one of the only employees left at some of the last businesses in town these brats would have any interest in almost guarantees the whole lot of them are continuously stocked in movies, snacks and quarters to distract them from even the most world shaking of calamities.

It hadn't occurred to him until just now what it meant for The Party that Steve and Robin seemed to be the only ones willing to hang around behind the counter at the arcade and sell and rent movies to shell-shocked townsfolk and tight-lipped government goons alike. Fuck, Lucas and Mike were right. He was an asshole.

He's pulled out of the slow spiral of realizing Mike Wheeler of all people had been right about something by Steve hollering one last "Love you, Bobby!" at a grinning and waving Buckley as she flung open the video store door and stumbled inside. He waits for the car and it's driver to round the corner before he gets out of his own government-issued station wagon. Fuck but he missed his truck.

"Welcome to Family Video, I literally just got here so you're gonna have to give me a minute before I can help you."

"I'm uh, I'm not here for a movie." He can tell she recognizes his voice (and it's a little impressive how quickly she clocks him since he's spoken only a couple words anywhere near her maybe twice in his memory. Girl has a good ear) from the way her entire body stills for a split second before whirling back into the hurricane of motion he's come to associate with her.

"Afraid we've only got movies round here, officer. You want any other medium of entertainment I'd suggest the arcade or the distribution yard." She's still not looking at him, hands busy shuffling papers and flipping open VHS cases. "Sorry, guess we'll have to catch up another time."

Hop sighs, running a hand over the short growth he's slowly getting used to again. He'd almost shaved it down again but El had been so happy when she'd realized they were growing out at about the same rate. He couldn't ever say no to her.

"Look, I know you don't like me. And it has been brought to my attention just how much I fucking earned that. But I- I need your help here, to fix it."

The flurry of movement doesn't stop but it's tighter, she's fiddling with something shoved up her shirt sleeve and tapping at the casing of a button connected to a wire leading into her green vest. Bright blue eyes are focused on him and he's almost reminded of the no-nonsense look Nancy Wheeler gets whenever they're faced with the world ending, but the girl in front of him is colder. He has no doubts that where Nancy Wheeler would tear down giants for what she believed is right, Robin Buckley would burn the world if it meant saving her people.

"Fine. He'll be back from his patrol-" He didn't remember assigning a patrol schedule and he's not sure if this is Steve's own initiative or if he's been roped into something by Owens' people. "in about twenty minutes. You have fifteen. Now why should I help you?"

The tag list below. Let me know if you want to be removed or if you go by a new/different tag you want on the list let me know which one I'm replacing and what I'm replacing it with please.

I've had some people ask to be tagged in this series who should already be in the list? If you see your name/tag but didn't get the notification that you were tagged please let me know so we can figure it out.

As always; like, comment and feel free to ask questions in the replies or my ask box.

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth @dead-cherry-bitch @irethsune @ink777 @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner @ledleaf @pansexuality-activated @paintsplatteredandimperfect @kinryuuki @yikes-a-bee @altocumulustranslucidus @samsoble @sensationalsunburst @xxbottlecapx @y4r3luv @swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @rootbeerandmusic @vinteraltus @wonderland-girl143-blog @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @steddie-as-they-go @youdrewstarsxaroundmyscars @i-amthepizzaman @croatoan-like-its-hot @maya-custodios-dionach @ineffable-monster-romancer @asquareinverona @iheartjennaaa @ellietheasexylibrarian

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[idyllicwillowtree]

How Much Love

Genre: Steve Harrington x fem!reader / gn!reader; angst with fluffy ending, hurt/comfort, established relationship

Summary: Steve has a migraine attack but he’s too stubborn to take care of himself.

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: one curse word, non-descriptive vomiting, migraine symptoms, chronic pain, crying, one use of Y/N, dumb joke, p*rn reference?

Author’s note: I know the migraine thing has been overdone but idc :) I'm pretty sure this could be read as gender neutral but you can lmk if that's not the case

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Steve knew he shouldn’t have gone to work. The second his eyes opened he knew it was going to be a rough day. The persistent throbbing on the left side of his face and the twist of nausea in his stomach would be enough to convince anyone else that they should take it easy.

Not for Steve though.

He’s done this dance before. The battle in his mind of not wanting to waste one of his precious sick days or if he should stay home and take care of himself so he can make it through the next day. He usually sucked it up and went with the former.

I’ve had worse before, he’d rationalize to himself. I can handle it.

His true motivation for leaving the comfort and warmth of his bed was the date he had planned for you two. Steve went all out with flowers, chocolates, dinner reservation at Enzo’s, and concluding the night snuggled up on his couch watching a rented movie.  

But the customers kept coming. Steve could've sworn they were all there, not to rent a movie, but to exacerbate his migraine attack. Tired mothers bringing in their screaming babies, a group of smelly teenagers, and a boisterous man who was trying to convince Robin that The Godfather was the greatest movie ever made. That’s not even mentioning the flickering fluorescent lights that Keith refuses to change the bulbs in.

Robin began to take notice once Steve kept bumping into the shelves as he put away tapes around the store. She watched as he mustered up enough strength to pick up a stack of returned tapes and mindlessly put The Muppet Babies in the Horror section and something called I Dream of Weenie in the kids section.

  By 4:30, he was absolutely fried.

“Go home, dingus,” Robin ordered.

All Steve could muster was a small grunt from his spot at the register. His forehead was pressed to the cool counter, toned arms wrapped around his head, trying to keep as much noise and light out as possible.

The bell on the door of Family Video was the final nail in the coffin. People have been coming in and out all day but this time the ring pierced through the side of his head like a burning knife, swiftly penetrating his brain and twisting it for good measure. 

Steve’s back stiffened as he sat up too fast, stomach turning when he ran blindly through the store and into the bathroom before emptying out the contents of his stomach. He tried not to think about when the last time the toilet was cleaned as he kept his face in the ceramic bowl, spitting out the rest of the sour bile coating his throat.

Steve barely heard the door creak open through the throbbing in his head and the ringing in his ears, but he did notice the light in the bathroom turn off. “Go away, Robin,” he croaked out. 

The disobedient footsteps continued towards him. He just wanted to be left alone, feeling too vulnerable in this state. He felt embarrassment twist in his chest at the thought of not being able to handle a simple headache.

A cold hand landed on the back of his neck and began to massage lightly. It felt comforting but Steve’s mind was rejecting it, “Robin, I said-”

He finally lifted his heavy head, half opened eyes widened slightly as he met your concerned gaze, only for him to start welling up. Steve’s lip trembled as it failed to keep a sob from escaping.

“Oh baby,” you whispered. “Not feeling good?”

Steve hung his head the best he could with his stiff neck and shook his head in response.

“It’s okay, Stevie. Try not to move your head too much.” 

You squatted next to him on the nasty bathroom floor and gently brought him into your arms. You let him cry into your shirt, gently rubbing soothing circles on his back and neck. Steve knew that crying would only hurt his head more, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t understand the emotions he was feeling yet, but he knew he was relieved to see you show up. Like a superhero, there to heal and protect him from any harm.

“I’m here now, baby. Let’s get you home, okay?”

_______________________________________________

Steve was so out of it he wasn’t sure how it happened, but the next thing he knew he was snuggled in a cocoon of pillows and blankets. He peeled his eyes open and recognized the dark ceiling of his bedroom.

You were puttering around the room, tidying up a little so Steve would have one less thing to worry about. He admired how natural it looked for you, knowing where everything goes and even avoiding the loud creaking spots on the floor. Steve had the sudden urge to reach out but you tucked him in so well he was having trouble slipping his arms out.

His grunt of protest over the blanket entrapment alerted you and you were by his side in an instant.

“What is it baby?” you whispered gently, “you need some water? Or a new ice pack?” 

Only when you removed the cool washcloth from his forehead did he notice the satisfying chill. He must have been practically asleep when you brought him home because he really doesn’t remember anything.

“What time is it?” Steve croaked out.

He leaned into the kiss you pressed gently to his cheek before you answered, “almost midnight.”

“What?!” Steve immediately went to sit up, but in his weakened state you were easily able to push him back down. “We had reservations!”

“I know, Stevie. It was really sweet of you to make plans but nothing we can do about it now,” you tried to reason. “We need to get you feeling better.”

“But I-”

“Stop that,” you demanded, still with a quiet and gentle tone, but it was still enough to cut him off. “Let me take care of you, Stevie. I know you feel bad, but I want to take care of you.”

Steve wasn’t sure if you meant he was feeling bad because he was sick or because of the immense amount of guilt he feels whenever he sees himself as a burden to others. Probably a little of both.

“I just…I was looking forward to tonight,” Steve muttered tiredly. “And this stupid chronic thing just always gets in the way and I don't…I don’t like asking for help.”

Steve wasn’t sure if he was making much sense but your smile showed him you understood. Your expression was soft and comforting as you gently raked your fingers through his hair. “Steve, I love you. All of you. Every single part of you I just adore. It doesn’t matter if those parts are feeling bad or good, I’ll always be here,” you stroked his cheek gently with the back of your hand, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. “I like caring for you Steve. It makes me feel good. So don’t worry about burdening me or anything like that, okay?”

Steve felt his lip tremble again but managed to gulp down his sobs this time. He whispered a quiet, “thank you” before fully relaxing. He lazily pursed his lips, silently asking for affection, which you happily fulfilled. You moved in close and kissed his lips as a way to let him know you will support him during this tough time.

Once you were leaned back you said, “now, on a scale from one to ten, how bad does it hurt?”

“Mm…Eleven.”

“No, it’s Y/N.”

Silence engulfed the negative space until a curious Steve peeled one eye open, only to see your shit-eating grin. He knew you’d be frozen like that until he laughed, but your expression was usually funnier than the joke.

He puffed out a laugh through his nose before shutting his eyes again. “That was horrible,” he said.

“Maybe, but at least I got you to smile,” you said smugly.

“Mm you sure did,” he praised you lightly. “Now c’mere. Cuddling is the best medicine.”

It’s called ‘chronic pain’ for a reason. Sure you can dull the pain with medications and treatments but it’ll always be there. Sometimes all you have to do is deal with it and ride it out,  but it makes it so much easier when there’s someone there who loves and supports you. 

Love may not be able to cure all kinds of pain but Steve thinks your love comes pretty close.

thank you for reading!

Main Masterlist

[space-invading-pigeon]

Steve is the Mom Friend™, officially the most reliable member of the Party; it would be Dustin, but Dustin insists that they'd be lost without Steve there to help them. Steve doesn't argue, but he disagrees. He thinks he's too volatile to really be considered for Most Reliable.

For most of his childhood, he was isolated from his peers, who he was Not Allowed To Talk To Because They Aren't Worth A Harrington's Time, Stephen. Steve is young and still wants his parents to love him, so he obeys. He's a good boy, if a little sensitive, and therein lies the problem: he feels so much, and he doesn't have a clue on how to express any of it. He can't process his feelings, they're too big to fit in his body. It overwhelms him easily and makes his throat tight- impossible to speak. His father scolds him when he has these overwhelmed episodes, as if Steve is purposely ruining his off time at home by crying; his mother ignores him if he acts childishly. There isn't really anyone who teaches Steve how to cope with being a human.

Steve remembers that he was always angry. It felt like an itch under his skin, a low but steady humming in his veins that could explode at anything, and even back then, he despised that feeling, scared that it meant he would end up a Bad Person. He'd started getting into fights (the first one he could remember was when he was eight and Keith pushed him to get to the playground faster. Keith got a bloody nose and Steve got detention for a week) and never really stopped. By twelve, his entire school is afraid of him, except for a select few kids: Tommy H, whose dad worked with Steve's dad, Barb Holland, who thought Steve was both a good person and a blockhead, and the new Munson boy, who didn't say much of anything, but especially nothing about the time he caught Steve crying in the woods in April after his parents missed the sixth birthday in a row.

It didn't really get better until high school, when his father demanded suggested he sign up for the basketball team; practice and drills helped diffuse a lot of that stifled anger, and for the first time, Steve feels like he can breathe. He doesn't have to be angry all the time anymore, even if most of his calm is just a lack of energy. That isn't to say the anger is gone; he still gets into fights often, but he manages to tone down the violence and rely more on a sharp tongue and a lazy confidence whenever fighting is brought up.

Cue season one! Steve, at the top of his game, the bloody, undisputed King of Hawkins High, is absolutely head over heels for sweet, shy Nancy Wheeler. He bares his soul to Nancy, who, after hearing what he has to say, promises that she'll be there for him. They're together now, they look after each other. It's everything Steve had ever wanted.

When he finds out about the creepy photos Jonathan took of them at Steve's pool on the night Barb went missing (and I love Jonathan, I really do, but what the hell man), he feels that anger starting to boil over again and panics. He was doing so well! Nancy would help, though, just hearing that find "You're an idiot, Steve Harrington" would cool him off. But it worsens when he tries to sneak in to Nancy's room and Jonathan is SLEEPING in Nancy's bed, half-curled around her. Steve doesn't want to get the cops called on him again, so he goes home.

The next day, it all boils over. He tried to stay calm, really, but it was like using a wine cork to stop a volcano; he stands by while Carol and Tommy spread rumors about Nancy, smirks cruelly while Carol spray paints the slur on the movie theater sign, and does not give an inch when Nancy calls him an ass, tears in her eyes and flanked by Jonathan. He's trying his damnedest to keep his hands to himself, though (his father wasn't happy the last time Steve got arrested, and somehow Steve knew that he wouldn't be happy if it happened again), so he's caught off guard when Jonathan starts throwing punches. (Later, Steve will admit that he doesn't really remember what he'd said to make Jonathan so angry that he'd actually try to fight Steve, but he'll apologize anyway. Jonathan is quick to forgive, and apologizes for starting the fight, as well). Steve's memory gets spotty around this time; he remembers a sharp pain in his head, just above his left ear, and being so dizzy that he struggles not to throw up, but he doesn't remember Jonathan landing any other hits (he has three bruises, two around his sternum and one under his eye, as well as a split lip), and he definitely does not remember running from the police trying to break up the fight.

It takes him a few hours to calm down, but it's largely due to the gap in his memory keeping him confused and panicked; he can't remember what he said, and Jonathan Byers may be a girlfriend-stealer but Steve remembers that he's also the kid who held funerals for the mice caught in the traps behind the school gym. Whatever he said had to have been really, really messed up, and Steve genuinely hates that he gets angry, that it isn't uncommon for him to lose time to his anger, that his first response to anything is always anger. So he goes to apologize.

The loaded gun pointed at his face is somehow the least upsetting part of that night.

During season 2, there's a lot going on. Steve has been working so hard on his anger, on keeping a lid on it and actually processing his emotions (thank you, therapy that Hopper demanded Hawkins Lab provide), but it wasn't enough. Nancy resented him, had actually blamed him for Barb's death, and that bitterness came to a head on Halloween.

Without Nancy, Steve struggled a lot more. He had nothing, no one; he didn't have anyone to tell about his parents' death in early June, and he didn't like talking about his wealth. There was no support system- until Dustin decided that Steve was going to help him. The kid was relentless and demanding and trusted Steve to help him almost immediately. Steve could hardly keep up, but he loved the feeling. And, when they ended up in a junkyard bus surrounded by demon dogs, he had three people depending on him, and suddenly he had a way to channel his anger (Dr. Harris would be so proud when he told her). He had a bat and enough unresolved trauma to rival those people his dad used to talk about with shell shock, and by the gods he was going to use that. He went apeshit on some demodogs, saved the kid's lives, and apparently became a big brother to a genius boy and a little girl that could probably fight God and win. He also got his third concussion when Max's stepbrother threatened to kill Lucas, but the order of events for that night is skewed; he blames the concussion. The doctor Hopper forced him to go to after said that he may never hear out of his left side again.

Season 3 sees Steve with a little family that he built all on his own: there's Will (who's shy but has a smile like sunshine when Steve asks him about anything), Jonathan (who cried when Steve asks if they can be friends and then proceeds to infodump on musicians every time he hears Steve so much as hum in a mildly musical manner), Max (the girl with a keen sense and a quick wit, whose older brother terrifies Steve because that's exactly how he could have turned out had he not gotten help), Lucas (who treated Steve like the big brother he never had and often called him racist for trivial things ["Steve, can we order pizza?" No. "Is it because I'm black?"]) Erica (who just sorta showed up with Lucas on occasion and reminded Steve just how fun it could be to be That Bitch), Mike (who alternated between passive assholery and cartoon-esque assassination attempts), Nancy, shockingly (who sat Steve down soon after the massacre at the hospital and apologized for blaming him for- well, everything. They'd talked for a long time, hashing it out, and by the end of it, Steve felt like he had a friend), Eleven (who comes by every Wednesday and Saturday for homemade waffles and a secret knitting circle), and Dustin (who became like a real little brother in the span of three days and never looked back. Steve vowed to keep Dustin safe with everything in him that night in the tunnels.).

He meets Robin when he gets a job at Starcourt (he may be set for life but Hop had told him that hard work built character, and Hop was the kind of man Steve wanted to become). She's wary of him, at first, especially when she watches him break the ice cream machine in a (now rare) fit of anger after a customer blew up at him for their ice cream melting before they finished it. But then he stammers through an apology and brings her a batch of cookies the next day, and tries to explain that he's better now, really, and Robin decides that he's a good person deep down. Maybe not too deep down, though, because his cookies are the best she's ever had. Besides, watching his face turn cherry red as he hides behind the shelves to spy on the repair guy is the most entertaining thing she's seen all summer, possibly in her life.

("Steve, you're drooling," she warns, and Steve hurriedly checks his chin.

"I'm making sure he doesn't get his hair stuck in the machine!" He tries to defend.

"First, his hair is under that bandanna. Second, Eddie Munson would rather die than ruin his rockstar hair.")

Their ice cream machine breaks six more times before Dustin comes back from camp, and each time Steve is a flustered mess talking to Eddie Munson. To his credit, Eddie only gives Steve a half-fond, amused smile before chatting with him about nothing in particular. After the third time, Eddie starts calling Steve "big boy" and lightly teasing him over the fist-shaped dents in the side of the machine.

Steve fights the Russians in the secret Starcourt base, not because they're coming at him, but because one of them reaches out for Dustin/Erica. The edges of his vision blurs, and distantly he knows that he's experiencing something like his childhood episodes: all his can feel is fire in his soul, burning straight through his body, and he has to get it out, he has to protect his brother-

"Wow, Steve won a fight!" Dustin crows as Steve is coming back to himself, his whole body trembling with leftover rage and no one to take it out on. Steve just clutches Dustin to him and tries to breathe. Dustin allows it for two minutes, then starts to squirm, but Steve doesn't release him until they hear footsteps.

With Dustin and Erica safe, Steve surrenders pretty easily- he needed to save his energy. But then they started the "interrogation," and Robin sounded so scared, and they hurt his hands and there were drugs-

Steve faintly remembers jumping onto a man (so tall and broad that Steve briefly felt like he was just a backpack) and biting him, locking his jaw and clawing like a feral cat. Robin remembers Steve promising to "smack the red right out of you commie assholes" while forcing his way through the tunnels, but she can't be sure if it was real or the drugs they were given. Dustin recalls Steve giggling at the movie they were hiding in, like a dork. Erica will never forget that Steve has a Berserker mode, or that he protected her even though she was in the process of blackmailing him for free ice cream.

In October of '85, Jason Carver catches him in the high school parking lot one night as he waits for Hellfire to get out. Steve denies all memories of what was said between them, but Jason walks away without need for an ambulance, so he counts it as a win.

In December of '85, the day that the kids all get out for Christmas Break, Chrissy Cunningham finds him in the parking lot and they sit for nearly an hour talking about projects for their secret knitting circle with the police chief's daughter. As hellfire let's out, Chrissy leaves, and Steve gets to watch as the older members walk his kids to his car, like awkward little nerdy gentlemen. Eddie always hands them off with a flourish and a wink. ("The children, Your Highness," he would say confidently, his three nerds behind him giving him nervous looks. "Perhaps you'll join us next week, my liege?" Steve pretends to be unamused by his theatrics, but Eddie has an infectious grin and a genuinely happy shine to his eyes.)

Season 4, Steve is definitely on edge, twitchy as they search for Eddie. He's worried for Dustin, who is attracted to trouble and smart enough to drag everyone else into it too, but also for Eddie, who occasionally popped by Family Video to talk with Robin. According to Eddie, he's allowed in the break room and behind the counter because he and Robin are "friends of Dorothy". Steve doesn't even know a Dorothy. (Eddie usually waits until Steve walks away in a flustered, confused huff before whispering to Robin, "Dorothy says: be gay, do crime.")

Eddie held a jagged glass bottle to his neck and Steve didn't feel anything. He wasn't scared for his life like the news promised he would be, nor was he angry like he'd expected he would be. Eddie shuffles around nervously, but the only thing Steve feels is concern for him.

He gets dragged through the Watergate and immediately attacked by those godawful bats- he was almost in the boat, they had to help Max, he would not lose his baby sister, and boom, he's back to fighting. He fends them off with the help of Eddie, Robin, and Nancy, all of whom he is furious with for following him into the Upside Down like idiots.

"Harrington's got her. Don't ya, big boy?" Eddie teased, and Steve felt electricity through his whole being. His face flushed red and he stammered an affirmative, not noticing Robin or Eddie as they grinned at each other. Eddie stuck close the entire time they were in the RV, and if Steve didn't know better, he'd say Eddie was flirting with him. But he did know better, there was no way Eddie was flirting. He was on the run and desperate for human interaction.

Separating for the plan was the hardest thing Steve had ever done. While Dustin was getting ready, Steve pulled Eddie aside. "Please keep him safe. I'll do anything you want, just please, don't let anything happen to him," he begged, desperately clutching Eddie's sleeves. "He's my brother, Eddie, I can't lose him-"

"I promise, Steve," Eddie had interrupted. "I'll guard him with my life."

"Guard him with mine," Steve insisted. Eddie didn't get it at first, but it would hit him later that Steve wanted Eddie to keep them both safe.

Steve would never tell a soul, but he liked confronting Vecna. Armed with chemical weapons, Robin stayed a bit behind, but Nancy emptied round after round into One, and Steve? Steve got to use his bat.

It was exhilarating; as much as he hated his anger problems, he could not deny that it felt good to attack the source of all their problems. His arms grew tired after a while, though, and Vecna seemed distracted, disoriented, so Steve resorted to his usual tactics. He never fought fair: biting, scratching, clawing his way to victory in everyday scuffles, there was no way he'd give up this opportunity.

Something in him twists suddenly. He feels sick to his stomach and scared, but he has no idea why. All he can think about is Eddie and Dustin- he's hurt he's hurt he'shurtheshurtheshurt. So he makes the decision to go back; Nancy and Robin technically have the injured Vecna under control. He runs.

Eddie is being swarmed when he makes it to the trailer. One minute, Steve watches as they descend on his friend(?), and the next, he's supporting an injured Eddie as they hobble together to Wayne Munson's truck, Wayne on Eddie's other side and rambling about "what the hell is going on" so similarly to Hop that Steve feels the hollow sting of loss. Later, as they rest in the living room of Steve's empty house, Dustin tells Steve about what he saw: Eddie, going to the ground, unable to fight them off any longer, hope lost and grief already tearing its claws into Dustin's chest, and then out of nowhere Steve appears, covered in bits of vine and rock. He tells Steve about the enraged roar he could hear from the trailer (ten feet behind Dustin as his hobbling came to a stop) and the nail bat that had yet to leave Steve's hand swinging at each assailant with such a precision that, for a brief moment in the chaos, Dusting could hear the sounds of an orchestra playing a symphony, Steve as their ragged, bloodied maestro. He tells Steve about the wild look in Steve's eyes as he carried a half-conscious Eddie into the trailer, snarling about how stupid and careless Eddie was, and how moronic Dustin was for jumping through a gate the way he did. He tells Steve about the stray demobat that burst through the door, how Steve grabbed it with his bare hands and ripped it in half- Dustin's got stars in his eyes as he relays this, even now, days later.

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

This kinda got away from me I'm sorry

I'm still new to people wanting to read what I write so I'm just gonna tag the one person I know was also excited about steve being feral: @amoris-no-smut-allowed

[samicakes-exe]

hii can i request your regular jeff the killer headcanons? :) they don’t have to be smutty

Hello! thank ya for requesting! honestly, i should get aroundto posting all of my creeps head cannons but Jeffy boy is a good start! hope you enjoy!!

also please suggest any other peeps you want headcanons for!

<3 Wordcount: 605 words! so a quick read <3

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝 𝕁𝕖𝕗𝕗 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕂𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕣 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤!!!

warnings: will include smut head canons at the end so be warned. Other than that just Jeff being a loveable ass!

𝕊𝔽𝕎 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤:

okay, let's get this out of the way. he's an asshole.

an asshole who cares mainly about the people he loves.

STILL he's a douche sometimes.

he's not very showy when it comes to his more romantic side. Hell, he struggles to say I love you in front of others and definitely isn't going to admit how fond he is of you to anyone else, even to Liu.

but he is very observant-

He listens, taking notes on what you like. Oh? you mentioned you like a specific type of cookie- there are 10 boxes in the cupboards the following morning.

Oh? you like wearing his clothes, here take a hoodie. (he would be very nonchalant about the situation and if you prod any deeper he would deny deny deny. getting annoyed but still handing you the hoodie.)

he has his sweet moments but still, he's more of a cocky narcissist

handsy too (he will never leave your ass alone!)

my dude is 5'10 on a good day but will totally round it up to 6 foot. He likes being taller than you

if you are 5'10 n up. Well prepare for him to show off his strength instead.

"Give me your hand."

"What?"

"I can beat you in arm wrestling. Give me your hand!"

Of course, you let him win, cuz if not he would challenge you to a race. (like a goddamn middle schooler)

He is quite toned but still built lanky

this man can surprisingly cook decent enough and if you're lucky he will cook for you

ONLY SOMETIMES again with the whole not showing any romantic affection thing

he's a little nerd since before the whole randy, troy, keith thing. He was a quiet kid and ya know quiet kids tend to be nerds n stuff!

he's defintely a nerd when it comes to rock and metal bands.

he has a couple of band tees def.

he doesn't know how to drive- also he's a passenger princess.

ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤:

minors get out right now!

so we all know this man is kinky in bed, of course!

one huge thing with him is def a knife kink. he absolutely gets off on the fear in your eyes when he presses one of his trusty knifes against your throat. how you tremble underneath him, feeds his massive ego.

he will definitely press it harder while he is fucking into you, he loves seeing you like this underneath him, also loves knowing that you would do this only for him.

he loves ruining you

he has a blood kink of course and will totally fuck you on your period.

his dick is 6 inches and pretty thick, slight curve to the left.

and he knows how to use it.

IF you're into it. Def let him carve his initials into you and watch him go absolutely feral.

he was already into marking with hickeys and bites, but this is like marriage to him i guess.

you're fully his now.

not only is he a passenger princess- his favorite position is reverse cowgirl.

he loves watching you ruin yourself on top of him and sometimes he will thrust up against your increasingly sloppier bounces.

his fingers roughly rubbing your clit

all the while whispering the filthiest things he can muster in your ear:

"cum all over my cock, doll"

"that's right, doll. go stupid on my cock, sweetheart. let me fuck your little brains out."

"you like my knife pressing into your thigh? makes your little clitty throb~"

his aftercare is surprisingly sweet, kissing all over you while he holds you close.

sometimes leaving marks as well, plays back to his whole ownership kink.

there it is! it is rough. i barely edited it so please enjoy. if you didn't like it umm- im sorry :(

[fandomkingdom18]

curtis brothers au hcs but it's when pony was born

darry was six years old and already had five little brothers so he knew he was ready for a sixth

at first he didn't like it, but he grew to love his brother and being an older brother when his first baby brother, keith, was born.

so you can imagine the excitement for dally

and then the extreme excitement for twins

and then another one

darry practically had a mini army

but the army wasn't very useful when the three youngest were in a stroller, dally was all shy, and keith was always bored so he always made it darrys problem

just like when he was sitting in the waiting room with his siblings and his uncle as they waited for their dad to come get them

keith was poking him and trying to get him to play

dally was in the seat on the other side of keith, also waiting quietly which was really good for a kid his age.

and their uncle was trying to entertain steve, soda, and johnny in the stroller so they wouldn't start crying again

which really was starting to annoy little darry

he loved them but the kid was stressing cause theres gonna be another onee

once their dad came out, darry practically jumped out of his seat and grabbed the hands of his two younger brothers to walk to their mama

and uncle jeff pushed the stroller

darry didn't have a hold on dally for too long before the latter ran to their dad for "uppies"

grabby arms and all

keith however was running his toy car up and down darry's arm

darry let it slide

what darry didn't let slide was the extra babbling from sodapop

the kid was overdoing it

so yk what darry did?

he side eyed him

yeah thats right

but eventually they made it to their mama's room

they went closer

darry peaked over and saw his mama smiling

and in her arms was the smallest baby he had ever seen

he hadn't remembered even lil johnny being that small

dally was still being held by their dad before peaking over and then hiding back in his dad's chest

eventually little dally looked back and smiled

"baby!"

keith was overjoyed as he held out the car to the baby, who was still asleep in their mama's arms, seemingly rejected when the boy hadn't woke up and suddenly started playing with him

their mama had to explain

"haven't seen last of me, baby!"

their mama had smiled at the boys, the ones that weren't now asleep in the stroller

their parents steadied them as they held their littlest brother for the first time

their parents watched as they saw the joy in their eyes at the small baby

once the baby went back to their mama and their dad, they had questions to ask

darry looked up to his beaming mama. she looked tired but also as happy as she was everytime she got to hold one of her precious children for the first time.

"what's his name, mama?"

little darry had asked

"his name is ponyboy"

[only-lonely-star]

Fic request:

Twobits little sister gets mad at their mom and runs away from home and ends up getting lost and terrorized by some Soc kids after she wanders into their side of town. Darry is over there roofing when he spots her wandering all upset and scratched up amd immediately goes into protective mode? I feel Darry is good with kids and I just want to see that more please 🙏

❤️ stay gold

୨୧ ☁︎ Too Young ☁︎ ୨୧

~ Darrel Curtis, Two-Bit’s kid sister (PLATONIC) ~

This is NOT an ‘x Reader’ story.

Warnings - I feel like classifying this as angst is a better description, so there are obviously a few warnings. Mentions of drinking, running away from home, minor pain inflicted on a small child, manhandling, harassment.

Summary - Karol Matthews has had enough, her plan to run away from home not going as expected. Luckily for her, a brotherly figure comes to her aid.

Author’s Note - This one is a bit of a longer fic compared to the other ones I have posted, so sorry for the long wait! Other requests may take a few days since I am a bit behind. Besides that, I thank you so much for this request! I could totally see Darry becoming protective when it comes to defending someone so special to him. I hope you enjoy it, Stay Gold! 💞

Word Count - 2.6k.

࿐ •°. *࿐ •°. *࿐ •°. *࿐ •°. *࿐ •°. *࿐

(Quick A/N: I try to keep things as accurate as possible to both the book and movie combined. For appearances I go based on the movie since it's easier for me to imagine. BUT it is canon that Two-Bit has a little sister although she is unnamed. I felt like this story would run much smoother if it was in a complete third-person perspective, making this not an 'x reader' story.)

Karol Matthews sat perched atop the armrest of the sofa, her wide eyes filled with curiosity following Keith's every move. He paced around the kitchen, absolutely raiding it and chugging down a cold beer before taking a seat beside his kid sister.

Keith couldn't sit still for the life of him, always buzzing around or out and about with his friends. His leg bounced up and down, sipping on his drink. It was obvious to Karol he was about to venture off and get into some trouble - but their mother didn't mind much. She practically supported his troubling antics from time to time.

Karol tapped on his shoulder, preparing her tiny voice to engage in conversation with him. Keith was zoned out, his consciousness coming back to reality at the gentle tap. He turned his head to face hers, a small grin evident on his face. "What's up?" he posed, the soft tone in his voice typical for her to hear.

"Where are you going?" Karol asked, her voice soft and quiet. She adored Keith and found him to be the funniest person she knew. Even at six years old, the girl had a slight understanding of what exactly her brother would be getting involved in. Late-night drives, smoking and drinking with his buddies, maybe even going out to see a girl. She was aware of the different blonde girls he would bring home, him swearing it was the same person each time - Kathy. She wasn't stupid, she knew they were all different.

"Going out with Dally and some others," he replied simply, expecting a soft sigh and for her to head back to her bedroom. Instead, she smiled and tapped his shoulder again.

"Can I come?" Karol's sweet voice spoke up, her enticing smile attempting to draw him in.

"No," Keith said, taking his free hand to ruffle through her blonde wavy hair affectionately. He found it rather amusing that she wanted to tag along. He chuckled and took another large sip of his beer as Karol pouted and let out a huff.

"Why not?!" she protested, demanding a real answer from him. Karol loved Keith and would rather spend her day out and about with him instead of being stuck at home. She crossed her arms and glared at her brother.

"You're too young," he replied, standing from the sofa swiftly, "Besides, Dally ain't too good with kids."

Karol's irritation only grew from there, souring her mood for the day. She tugged on Keith's arm like a lifeline - pleading to come along. "Please...? I'll be quiet!"

He shook his head firmly, stepping for the door without another word on the matter. He took a deep breath, "Heading out! Be back around seven!"

A woman's voice could be heard shouting back in response, stepping for the door before Keith could leave. "Six!"

She enveloped him in a side hug and kissed his cheek, staining it with a dark hue of pink lipstick. He grinned softly, smearing it off and turning the doorknob. "Six-thirty. Bye, ma,"

She let out a sigh, watching her son dart for his car - beer in hand and all. She turned to Karol with a lopsided smile. "What are we going to do with him? Hm?"

Karol sat back down on the sofa, a frown still intact. "I wanna go," she stated with crossed arms.

Her mother glanced down at her with a slight frown. "You shouldn't be hanging around those boys, you're way too young, honey."

Karol didn't like that. In fact - she hated being referred to as 'too little' or 'too young'. In all reality it was true; she was six years old and nowhere near old enough to befriend a group of teen hoodlums...even if they were her brother's best friends.

"I don't wanna be young! I wanna play with the big kids and be cool," she fumed, eyebrows sewn together and tiny fists clenched.

"Karol... you don't understand. Little girls shouldn't try any of the things they do," her mother shook her head, attempting to calm her down. It was obvious how badly this was affecting Karol's mood, sending the child into an upset rage.

"I'm not a little girl!" she shouted, hopping off the couch and reaching for the doorknob at a moment's notice. "And I'm running away from this place! I'll go find Keith on my own!"

Her mother only rolled her eyes. Karol had done this countless times - attempting to run off and merely making it down the street before she came crawling back. "You'll be back," she muttered under her breath as she watched her daughter pry open the door and step outside into the blazing summer heat.

Karol's dark expression meant business. She didn't intend on coming back this time, she was determined to prove herself as a big kid. With heavy stomps, Karol made her way down the sidewalk, thinking of where her brother could possibly be. He'd taken the car and everything, not even mentioning where he was heading off to. She turned her head around to notice the door had already been shut - stranding her outside for good.

"I'll show her,"

Karol continued on with her journey, wandering down streets she'd never been to before. Every house she passed seemed to appear bigger and bigger. The one-story shacks turned into two-story houses with beautifully painted fences surrounding them. She stared at a few in awe, wondering how she could manage to buy one of her own and prove she was all grown up.

All was well until a few snickers could be heard off into the distance. Karol turned her head and squinted to have a better look at the trio of teenage boys coming her way. Her mind instantly thought those could be Keith's friends. Maybe if she asked them where he could be then she could hitch a ride with them. Her tiny legs strode to stand in front of the boys, a charming smile on her face.

The first to speak up, a tall brunette with khakis and a white button-down, kneeled to her level. A sly grin arose on his lips, his voice coming out overly sweet. "Well... are you lost, kid?"

It was quite obvious Karol wasn't from the area. Her tattered sandals and colorful- yet floral sundress gave it away. No Soc child would wear something so bright and bold. The little girls were typically dressed head to toe in fancy skirts, headbands, and bows. Karol was a misfit.

"I'm looking for my brother," she beamed with a sweet tone in return, oblivious to the evil intent in his tone. The other boys circled around her as they stifled their snickers.

"Who's your brother?" the Soc asked with a raised brow at Karol's revelation. He looked to the other two, motioning for them to stand close by.

"Keith," Karol spoke excitedly, expecting them to immediately welcome her with open arms, "He said he was with Dally. Can you take me wherever that is?"

All three of the boys's ears perked up at the name. 'Dally' was an easy name to remember - recognizing the infamous greaser left quite a small crowd to narrow down from.

"I ain't ever heard of a 'Keith' who hangs 'round Dally," the slim and blonde-haired Soc spoke up, exchanging glances between the others.

The third boy shook his head, furrowing his brows as he tried to recall the person he had in mind. He ran a hand through his jet-black curls. "No, she means Two-Bit. That guy with the funny sideburns."

The brunette Soc who had originally spoken to Karol let out a soft snort. "Two-Bit..." he nodded along, testing out the name on his tongue. "He wear a Mickey Mouse shirt, kid?"

Karol's smile only grew, nodding to confirm that was indeed her big brother. "Yes! That's him!" Her arms pumped up in victory, a gleam of hope in her eyes.

The sight was precious, they didn't even have to push her for answers - she willingly gave them away. The boy chuckled dryly, standing to his feet with a smug smile. "Well since Two-Bit thinks it's funny to swipe cash that ain't his..."

The other boys had a similar look of cruel intent written all over their faces. The blonde boy stood behind her, a singular arm snaking around her small torso to lift her up. Karol yelped in confusion, not expecting such a move.

"Hey!" she hollered to them, her voice almost a whimper. She was roughly tossed in a soaking wet puddle of mud, hidden beneath the grass on a stranger's front lawn. "My dress..." she pouted, tears welling to her eyes.

The boys didn't hesitate to terrorize the poor girl further. They jabbed their hands into the muddy puddle, one holding her down as the other two slathered the mud all over her. She let out a wail, one that anybody in their right mind couldn't brush off.

"Tell your brother to not touch what ain't his next time," the Soc in the white button-down cackled, his hand running down the side of her cheek.

Just as Karol felt she couldn't take any more of the torment - pounding footsteps could be heard coming closer. Her screams and cries for help had paid off, and none other than Darrel Curtis had come to her aid. He grabbed the collar of the brunette's shirt from behind, scaring the other two off. They ran without hesitation, sprinting up the street the same way they came. The boy managed to slip out of Darrel's grasp, speeding off before he really had his world rocked.

Karol still sat in the puddle, wailing and hollering like she never had before. She truly felt those boys would help her find Keith. Darrel cursed under his breath until they were completely out of sight. He quickly turned his focus back to Karol.

Gently helping her up, he placed both hands under her arms to stand her back on her own two feet. He sighed and assessed the situation, looking over her body and face for any signs she was hurt. "You alright?"

Karol used the back of her hand to wipe away the overwhelming amount of tears that flooded her eyes. She nodded and tried to calm herself enough to speak. Darrel was no stranger to her, they had met numerous times before since Two-Bit was close friends with him.

"Darry~" she whimpered, clinging onto his leg as she went in for a hug. She cried softly against him and didn't show any intention of stopping.

Darrel was a bit taken aback, but he rested a hand on her shoulder nonetheless, patting it gently to bring her a bit of comfort. She was muddy all over and was soaking Darrel in the mess but he didn't mind it one bit. The poor child had to have been hurt from the way she had been screaming. "Karol, look at me."

She reluctantly tilted her head upwards to meet his eyes, her pout seemingly stuck on her face. His heart sank at the sight of the girl's dirtied clothing along with a few minor scratches along her face and arms. "What happened? Tell me everything."

He subtly maneuvered her arms off so that he could begin to walk her to his car. He held his hand out to her, opening and closing a fist to motion for her. Her small hand wrapped around his pinky finger, melting his heart further. He listened intently to her soft cries.

"I was looking for Keith...I ran away," Karol explained with a deepening frown, her mind racing with thoughts of him and how she could only hope he was safe out there.

"You ran away?" he echoed, his words almost full of disbelief, "Why would you do that, kiddo?" Darrel guided her to the backseat of his car, the last thing on his mind being the muddy mess she would leave behind. He followed her inside the car, grabbing a hand towel which was stuffed into the back pocket of his denim. He gently dabbed at her cheeks, mentally reminding himself to be gentle around the scratches.

Karol sighed deeply and glanced down to her lap shamefully. She winced every now and then, the burning sensation on her skin still lingered. "I don't wanna be a little girl anymore, Darry... I want to be like Keith. To be cool."

Darry's expression turned from one of shock to one of empathy. He could already imagine how left out Karol must feel. Her brother always out of the house and getting into all sorts of trouble with his friends, her mother housekeeping constantly and working hard to make ends meet. The Matthews' home could often leave Karol feeling lonely and unwanted.

"And you wandered all the way here... on foot?" he implied, the question sounding surreal to even ask a six-year old.

Karol nodded and watched as Darrel tried his best to finish wiping off the dried up mud from her arms. He was unable to do much about her dress - but what he could do was give her a ride home. He finished tidying her up, setting the towel on the floor beside her feet. He smiled at her warmly, his thumb gently running over her cheek. “Lemme take you home, get you all freshened up with your momma.”

Darrel had a tendency to be good with children, Karol being no different. His instinctive protective nature came in handy in situations like this. He would do so much as to drop everything in terms of his job to tend to Karol’s desperate cries for help.

The car ride home was mostly quiet, the soft music playing as Karol settled herself into the backseat, her head resting against the car door. Darrel pulled up, the car coming to a halt as Keith and their mother swarmed the vehicle in a panic. They were both worried sick - her mother expecting her to return moments after ‘running away’.

Darrel immediately emerged from the car, opening the backseat door and revealing the child to them. Two-Bit was first to sling her into his arms, a powerful hug between the two. He didn’t mind the crumpled clumps of dirt that fell from her body. “Karol - we were so worried about you…” he began, his voice almost a quiver.

Darrel smiled softly, admiring the sight of a little family reunion between the three. He stuffed his hands in his pocket and observed. She was set back down, stepping closer to Darrel in an instant. He crouched down in response and held out his arms for her. Karol obliged and wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, his hands rubbing her back soothingly. “Karol, look at me,” he whispered quietly, only for her ears to hear only.

She leaned in, the expression on her face displaying curiosity. Her undivided attention was on Darrel. “You are the toughest, bravest - coolest gal I know,” his tone was nothing but tender and loving with her. He was already aware of how she felt being babied and portrayed as nothing more than a little girl. He chose his words carefully, “And don’t you ever forget that, you hear? You’re just as cool as your brother… maybe even cooler.”

The wink he added onto those last words sealed Karol’s belief in. She felt a strange sense of newfound confidence within herself. Darrel had done more than just protect her today, more than scaring the boys off before they could harm her more, more than rushing to help assess the damage….

Darrel left her feeling important. She felt noticed for once, her strength revealing itself since the terror inflicted on her today. Karol tightly hugged him, her grasp not loosening a single bit as she prolonged the hug to its fullest.

Her soft voice whispered back, a smile plastering all over her face - the first one in a while, “Thank you, Darry.”

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Dear Diary. . .

18+ for some smut. . .

Steve thought a lot about people's sexuality since Robin came out to him on the floor of the bathroom at Starcourt. Well, he thought about it a lot more. Before, it was only a casual thought. How could two members of the same sex do that? Not in like a hateful way but more in a curious way. How could two men have sex? He usually spent time on it, thinking about it. . .too much time thinking about it, really. That should have been his first clue, but at the time, he shook those thoughts away by telling himself that he was just being overly judgemental like his dad. Now, he was thinking about it a lot more, and he couldn't quite figure it out until Eddie Munson walked into Family Video one afternoon.

"It's fucking freezing! I can't believe Keith made us come in. I swear that I'm going to do it this time," Robin said. "I'm gonna kill him."

"You keep saying it, but then it never happens," Steve chuckled.

"There's no one even here!" Robin complained.

It was the middle of December and pretty damn cold. No one would be crazy enough to escape the warmth of their homes just to get a movie. He was quickly proven wrong, though, when the door opened and Eddie Munson walked in.

"Jesus H Christ! It's freezing in here. Do you guys have the air conditioner on in the middle of winter?" Eddie asked.

"It's broken. We couldn't fix it, and we couldn't get anyone to come out," Steve said.

"And you guys didn't just say 'fuck it' and go home?" Eddie asked.

"We can't really afford to do that," Steve said.

"Really? King Steve can't afford to take one day off? The man with his own castle or so I've heard," Eddie said, and Robin scoffed at him, scowling.

"You mean, my parents' house? Yeah, no. It's their house and like they've told me since I was six: It's their house and they just allow me to live there. They made me start paying them rent the minute I didn't get into any college, and they threatened to kick me out without all my stuff if I didn't pay up on time, so no I can't really afford to say fuck it," Steve said. "And the thing about being called King Steve are the assumptions that come with it. They assume that because I was born into money that everything that comes with it is mine. That I have it easy. You know, you can have all the money in the world but you can't pay your parents to love you. I mean, I don't know. Does it make you feel good when people call you freak?"

"Jesus. . . No," Eddie said, looking properly shamed. "Look, sorry, man. I can fix your problem for free."

"Which problem? People calling me King Steve or my parents not loving me?" Steve asked.

"Well, I can't fix those problems, but I can fix your heat," Eddie smirked. "Let me go get my tools."

He left the store, leaving Steve alone with Robin.

"He's lucky he apologized and offered to fix the heat, or otherwise I would have kicked his ass," Robin muttered, and then she paused. "Your parents are home, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Steve muttered.

"You know, my dad put bunk beds in my room like I'm a kid or something. Want to have a sleepover?" Robin asked.

"Only if I get the the top. A top for a top," Steve said with a smirk.

"Ugh. You'll get bottom and like it," Robin said. "You know, my parents love you. I think you should take up their offer and -"

She didn't get to finish her sentence because Eddie made his way into the store. He shook his toolbox at Steve.

"Lead the way, Harrington," Eddie grinned.

"I'll mind the store, although I think it's pointless. I don't think anyone else is crazy enough to come out in this weather," Robin said to Steve. "You mind him."

"Thanks," Eddie grinned cheerfully as he followed Steve into the back.

Wordlessly, Steve watched as he took off his jacket and got to work. The other man was wearing a tight red sweater. It was so tight that Steve could practically see his. . .wait, are those. . .are those nipple piercings? Steve swallowed. Why couldn't he look away? The movement of Eddie rolling up his sleeves tore his attention away from the man's nipples. There was a tattoo of a creature controlling a puppet on his forearm. He stared at it while he worked and wondered if there were any more tattoos on Eddie's body. Steve tilted his head to the side as he pictured taking off Eddie's sweater to look for more, his mind picturing Eddie's piercings. He could imagine them so clearly, and Steve could see his own hand reaching out to brush his thumb over the piercing. Suddenly, Eddie's underneath him, and Steve is reaching down to take it -

"All done!" Eddie's voice called out.

"What?!" Steve exclaimed.

He realized what he was feeling now. The familiar pull of arousal in his stomach is something that he immediately recognized. Mews being eaten by a demodog! Mews being eaten by a demodog! Yeah, that did it. Eddie was staring at him now with his big brown beautiful eyes, his plump lips looking ever so kissable. Shit.

"You okay, man?" Eddie asked. "Where did you go?"

"Oh, nothing, sometimes I just space out," Steve said, trying not to blush.

"Yeah. I do that, too. I fixed it!" Eddie exclaimed proudly. "Am I forgiven now?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely," Steve said. "Thanks."

Eddie shrugged on his jacket and shook his toolbox at him.

"I'm going to go put Bert up now," Eddie said. "And then look for a movie."

"Bert?" Steve asked.

"My toolbox. Problem?" He asked.

"No, it's cute," Steve laughed.

Eddie looked at him for a moment as if he was trying to figure him out.

"Hm. Dustin was right. You are an interesting dude," Eddie said.

They walked out of the back together, and Steve continued to watch him as he walked out.

"It's definitely warming up," Robin said. "Thank God!"

Eddie walked back in and started browsing the aisles, Steve’s eyes never leaving him. Robin unscrewed her bottle of water and started drinking.

"Yeah, I can definitely picture myself having sex with that guy," Steve said, and Robin started choking on her water. "Jesus, Robin. Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?! Are you okay? What the hell, Steve?!"

"What?"

Later that evening, after they got off of work, Steve and Robin immediately got settled up in her room. A random radio station was playing in the background. They were laying on the floor, their feet pressed against the wall, as they stared at the stars on Robin's ceiling.

"So, let me get this straight - something which we apparently both aren't - you kept trying to picture how it worked between two men, and apparently, that made you think that you were homophobic?" Robin asked.

"Pretty much," Steve said.

"Okay, you're going to have to start telling me all of your thoughts outloud so I can tell you if you're wrong or right," Robin said. "I'll do the same thing with you."

"Like we're diaries?" Steve asked.

"Exactly like we're diaries, Steven," Robin said. ". . . Diaries who give feedback."

"What if they're dirty thoughts?" Steve asked.

"I'm a fully grown lesbian. I can handle it," Robin said. "I want every single slutty detail."

"Okay," Steve said.

"For example: Dear Diary, my platonic soulmate realized he wasn't straight today. He also came out to me. I want him to know how proud I am of him and how much I love him," Robin said. "Even if he is attracted to boys."

"Dear Diary, I came out to my platonic soulmate today after finally accepting that I can be queer. . .that I could be bisexual like Bowie. I don't think I ever could have gotten to this point without learning from her. If she hadn't trusted me, then I wouldn't have been able to put so much trust and courage into accepting myself. I'm so proud of her, and I love her so goddamn much," Steve said. "Even if she is a pain in the ass."

"Aw, Steve," Robin said tearfully and took his hand, interlacing their fingers together. "You know what my favorite thing about our friendship is?"

"What?"

"We're both bitches," Robin said and they both burst into fits of giggles.

After that, Steve wished for more interactions with Eddie, but whenever he went to pick up Dustin from Hellfire, Eddie would scowl and look away whenever Steve tried to wiggle his fingers at him. Eventually, it just became awkward, so Steve stopped trying. He didn't even look at him anymore. Steve even tried approaching him in the grocery store just to ask what his problem was, but Eddie took off and ran out of the store without buying anything. Eventually, Steve realized that Eddie clearly still saw him as King Steve and wanted nothing to do with him. So Steve stopped trying, disappointed, and rejected. Instead, he tried moving on by going on dates, and eventually, Steve pushed Eddie to the back of his mind. . .then spring break rolled around. It all went to hell, and suddenly, he was fighting to save Eddie from being convicted of murders he didn't commit while also trying to stop the earth from splitting open.

Luckily, it was all a success with some injuries. Unfortunately, Eddie still needed to be hidden from the town, and Steve's house was the best place for him. He was currently resting in Steve's guest room, bandaged heavily as he was worse off than Steve but not so bad that he needed a hospital. Steve was pacing downstairs. Now was the perfect time to talk to him. He couldn't run away this time. Steve sighed and walked up the stairs. He entered the room without thinking and without knocking. Eddie froze, his unbandaged hand down his pants. He quickly pulled it out.

"I had an itch!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Uh. I can come back," Steve said.

"No, seriously! It was an itch!" Eddie exclaimed. "I was just thinking about you."

Steve’s mood changed pretty quickly. His cheeks turned pink, and he grinned. He slid carefully onto the empty space beside Eddie. He used an elbow to avoid laying on his stomach.

"Really?" Steve asked.

"How could I not? You pulled me out of hell, man," Eddie said. "I wish I could thank you properly, but I can't even get out of bed."

"You can thank me by letting me do all the work," Steve said.

"Uh, yeah, okay," Eddie said, looking at him, confusion as he started to disappear under the covers. "What are you - Oh! Oh! I think there was a misunde - OH, fuck it! It's such a good one. JESUS H CHRIST!"

There was a popping sound from under the covers as Steve peeked out from under the blankets.

"Do you want me to stop?" Steve asked.

"No! Get back down there," Eddie said and pushed his head down. "I can't believe - I, uh, thought that I hated you and I, uh, I uh, I didn't understand why I did. Oh, fuck! It's why I ran - I shouldn't have - Steve, Steve, I think I'm going to - God!"

Steve plopped down on the empty spot beside Eddie, smirking as he licked his lips.

"I didn't think I would be so good that I'd get a name change," Steve said. "God. God Harrington."

"Cocky asshole," Eddie replied. "So, what does this mean? Is that all I'm good for, or do you want more from me?"

"I think I would like to try more with you," Steve said softly.

"Me too, and once I get better, I am so returning the favor," Eddie smirked.

"There's a lot of things we're going to do when we get better," Steve said as he leaned in close to Eddie's face.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Steve placed a soft kiss to Eddie's lips, smiling when Eddie started kissing him back. Steve pulled back.

"The first thing, though. . .I'm so making you sleep on the couch," Steve said.

"What?!" Eddie yelped. "Why?"

"Well, one, you forced the kids to choose between Lucas and Hellfire. Second, you didn't stick to the plan, and you nearly died in Dustin's arms," Steve huffed.

"But I - yeah, no, that's fair," Eddie mumbled. "I do feel bad about making them go through that. I'm going to work my ass off to make it up to them."

"I know you are," Steve said softly. "Luckily, you've got the rest of your long life to make it up to them."

"Thanks to you," Eddie said, and Steve bit his lip. "You want to tell Robin, don't you? Go ahead."

Steve went downstairs and into the kitchen. He picked up the phone, twirled the phone cord around his finger, and dialed Robin's number.

"Hello?"

"Dear Diary. . . I totally went down on this really cute guy. . .bit of an asshole. . . but he's working on it. . ."

[stevesbipanic]

@steddiemas Day 7: Mall

You would think after the last mall burned down the town of Hawkins wouldn't erect another so quickly. But money is money and by December the mayor was happily cutting a big red ribbon in front of Galaxy Mall.

"I'm honestly surprised they didn't call it Starcourt 2," Robin giggled.

"Might as well call it the Titanic, I give it 4 months before I don't know an earthquake rips it to shreds," Steve replied, a smirk on his face.

Despite the trauma Steve and Robin had been forced to find work at the new mall, Family Video had shut down its standalone store in favour of one in the mall. Keith had unfortunately terminated their employment, citing that the new store was smaller and they could either choose one of them to stay or both go.

"You know, we have an awful habit of finding jobs with dumb outfits."

"Hey could be worse, we could have to wear the big red suit and have kids sit on us."

"Yeah, sucks to be that guy, hope they didn't hire a creep though."

Being an elf for Santa's Workshop had its perks , free candy canes, hanging out with Robin, and hot cocoa's every morning.

Santa was sweet with the kids, whoever it was seemed like a nice guy, he never rushed any of the kids, no babies cried for their photos and everyone left smiling.

Honestly, Steve wanted to meet the guy, but he always seemed to have left by the time Steve's changed, and he's already in the chair once Steve arrives.

He's decided to take matters into his own hands, he's a guy that gets what he wants and right now he wants that man, whoever he is.

So, he waited until they closed and jumped onto Santa's lap before he could get up. Santa's face turned a very festive shade of red.

"Now Santa's I've been a veryyyy good boy this year and you haven't even asked me what I want for Christmas."

Santa seemed to compose himself, a spark of mischief in his eyes, "And what is it that you want for Christmas little Stevie?"

"I'd love a kiss from Santa Clause."

Well Steve couldn't say he wasn't direct.

"Meet me out back in ten and I think you can get your present early."

Steve had never changed so fast, he'd told a confused Robin that she had to call her mom to pick her up today and dashed out the back door.

He didn't have to wait long before two strong hands took his face gently and pressed soft lips to his own. Steve melted into the kiss, not even feeling the bite of the early December air.

Eventually they pulled apart for air and Steve blinked open his eyes to find a very nervous looking Eddie Munson staring back at him.

"Eddie?"

"Bad Christmas present? Sorry I don't think they make receipts for kisses."

Steve just smiled, hoping it eased Eddie's nerves, "Can I still make a return?" Steve asked as he took Eddie's face in his hands and pulled him softly forward.

Best Christmas present ever.

Ao3