#lover boy!steve

[lame0o]

Anyone love this song as much as me???

Need lover boy Steve to sweep us off our feet at the bar and lock us away in the bathroom ASAP!!!! If I was going to enter my fic writing era this would be where I start.

[hawkinsbnbg]

Steve got injured so many times that he was kind of used to it. So one day, when he was preparing dinner and accidentally burned himself, he just ran his fingers under the tap like usual and then returned to chopping onions.

He was so lost in his zone that he didn't realize Eddie had seen it all, nor notice when Eddie left the perch on the counter to go retrieve the quick aid kit from the bathroom.

“Can I have a minute with you, sweetheart?”

“Sure,” Steve put his knife down and turned off the stove, wiping his hand absentmindedly on his apron in the process. Before he could ask what was wrong, he was gently steered to one of the dining chairs by Eddie.

“Have a seat, baby,” Eddie pressed a small kiss on his temple to soothe his confusion.

Once Steve settled down, he belatedly saw the kit on the table.

“Eds,” he said fondly as Eddie sat on the chair next to him, slightly exasperated at his boyfriend’s overprotectiveness. “They just sting a little.”

“But you were still hurt,” Eddie applied the burn cream on his injuries carefully, brow furrowed deeply in concern. “Which means I’m hurt, too.”

Steve’s heart gave a heavy thud to that. He didn't know what to say. Even after years of being cared for by Eddie, he still forgot sometimes that he didn't need to do everything alone anymore. Including patching himself up and hissing at the pain.

When Eddie was done, he kissed Steve's bandaged fingers one by one and gazed at him with those big brown eyes all the while. Steve wished they didn't work so well on him every single time.

“Alright, I promise I’ll be careful next time,” he conceded. And continued when Eddie just kept staring at him in silence. “No overlooking my injuries or hiding them from you, either.”

Linking their pinkies together as Eddie demanded, he met those triumphant eyes.

“Happy?”

“Very,” Eddie nodded solemnly.

Then stood up and caged Steve in his chair with a wolfish smile. “Let’s seal it with a kiss, baby.”

Steve leaned forward to meet Eddie halfway.

And knew this was what love tasted like.

[sp0o0kylights]

Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4

Part Three: link

First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link

The kid was madder than a wet hen.

Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset. 

Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it. 

He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud. 

The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.

Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.  

Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.

They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.

Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.

Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.

Unfortunately, so did Eds. 

Still.

 Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best

Gave space.

Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.

Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink. 

One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations. 

Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say. 

‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’ 

Nope. 

‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’ 

Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure. 

‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’

That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake. 

Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them. 

Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through. 

They did not.

He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing. 

Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.  

The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.

Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse. 

Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something. 

(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here. 

They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may. 

Steve too.)

“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?” 

Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house. 

“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.  

Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him. 

“Figured you might have other things to say, though.” 

Likely a lot of things. 

It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it. 

“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”

 ‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give. 

“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.” 

Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice. 

Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked. 

And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle. 

“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat. 

“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth. 

Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.

(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.) 

“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?” 

Wayne nodded once, slow-like. 

Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again. 

“He did.”

“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?” 

“I did.” 

He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say. 

Wayne took advantage. 

“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”

Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.” 

“‘Bout trust.” 

Eddie blinked at that. 

“Trust.” He echoed flatly. 

“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--” 

“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”

Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.” 

Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him. 

“One of them was me, wasn’t it.” 

Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway. 

He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with. 

“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.” 

Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like. 

Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns. 

“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.” 

After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.

“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.” 

That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had. 

“How long is he staying here?”

Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.” 

Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.” 

“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.” 

Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through. 

Wayne sat with him as he processed. 

Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did. 

Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked; 

“What if he finds out?”  

This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home. 

It took Wayne  a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret. 

The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over. 

This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly.  It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself. 

Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved. 

Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.

‘Shit.’ 

“He won’t.” Wayne said. 

Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.” 

Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side. 

“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other. 

Hoped that in the future, it would be.

Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.

(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.

Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)

xXx

Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.

He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.

A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.

He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest. 

Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.

The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.

(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)

Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.

The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose. 

Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine. 

Hurt, absolutely, but alive. 

Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.

‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.

Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body. 

He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol. 

Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door. 

Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.

Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch. 

Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.

Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.

The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.  

Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.

It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible. 

The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup. 

Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.

Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him. 

Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.

Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely. 

At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior. 

(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.) 

That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.

Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.

‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!” 

It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it. 

Wayne rolled his eyes. 

“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door. 

Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries. 

“I think I promised you a game, son.”  Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall. 

It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.

[starrystevie]

steve wakes up for the first time that morning on a lumpy couch with sticky red lipstick smeared across his forearm.

there's a pair of lips imprinted next to a glob of red and if he looks closely, eyes squinted in hangover glory, he can make out the ghost of a handful of numbers, something that looks like maybe like a 5 curving around the inside of his wrist. it's hard to tell in the dull morning light, even harder when he can't open his eyes because of the pounding drums of a headache in his skull so he gives up, plops his head down on the well-worn couch cushion, and falls back asleep.

when steve wakes up for the second time, his head is positively throbbing, blurring his vision and making him feel weak. his neck is cricked and pops uncomfortably as he stretches before he forces himself to stand. the lipstick is less sticky now, but it's still very much there, even though steve had convinced himself it was just a dream.

as he weaves around other people on the floor who are still passed out with red plastic cups and bottles strewn between them, he digs his keys out of his back pocket and examines the writing. he can't make out the words written under the jumble of numbers. 'cah nie' is what it looks like, but even hungover steve knows that those aren't real words.

steve's pulling into his driveway when it hits him. oh, he thinks, it says 'call me'; the numbers feel a little more important now.

he stumbles through the front door, his feet shuffling along the floors because he feels too puny and lazy to pick them up properly, and makes his way to the kitchen. while steve may not have a career as a private investigator in his future, he's curious, excited to look at the numbers smudged along his arm to figure out who it could belong to.

and it wasn't like he really even went to parties anymore. between the world almost ending and then the world piecing itself back together and the kids going off to school and making the move to indianapolis and making a new group of friends just to move back to hawkins with a few in tow, he didn't exactly feel like the partying type. too much had happened between high school and now.

but lori had convinced jimmy to throw a rager to celebrate moving into their new apartment that they got for cheap on the outskirts of town, out near a lake that steve won't step foot in anymore. then came the gin followed by tequila followed by dancing and joints and laying on his back in the dewy grass to look at the stars with curly hair tickling the side of his neck as he-

curly hair. that's it, his first clue.

steve grabs a notepad off the kitchen counter and jots out every combination he can think of from the numbers on his wrist. the only thing he can clearly see is that the first two numbers are 42 and the last is definitely a 5. everything else in between is guess work, a jarbled combination of maybe 8s and 2s, but he has nothing but time to kill and he won't be able to let it go until he gets the bottom of the mystery number.

he makes call after call to random numbers, switching 7s and 2s and 3s and 8s hoping for any sort of a hint. there's a sort of hope blooming in his chest that someone could have liked steve enough to leave him a message written on his arm like they were staking a claim. it's been a long time since he's felt like this. like he's wanted.

it's when he gets to a number near the bottom of his list that he gets someone to actually answer the phone. it rings once, twice, three times until it's picked up, steve's stomach tied in knots that he wants to write off as lingering hangover nausea even though he knows it isn't.

"yeah?" a gruff voice responds, and if steve concentrates, really concentrates, he thinks it sounds familiar.

"uhm, hi?" he squeaks out and pulls the receiver away from his face so he can cough around the dryness in his throat. "this is probably a weird question but-"

"whatever you're selling, i'm not interested."

and there it is, it clicks in steve's head who he's called. he laughs a little bit to himself and slumps down further into the chair he was sitting in.

"eddie?" he asks, scrubbing a hand over his face now that he knows that this is all either an elaborate prank to make him look stupid or a way to make sure steve makes good on his promise from the party last night to call eddie about when they could hang out next.

there's a sound on the other end of the line, something between a huff and a groan, before the line goes dead. the dial tone blares in steve's ear and it's loud enough that he has to yank the phone away to save his hearing. he can feel his face pinch together before dialing the number again.

the line rings. it rings and rings and rings until it clicks off.

steve calls back.

it rings a few more times and steve has half a mind to drive over to the munson's new place and see eddie in person until finally, there's a voice on the other end of the line.

"the voicemail box you have reached is currently-"

steve sighs. "eddie, i know that's you, come on."

"what, i thought i sounded pretty convincing." eddie's voice is deep, albeit a tad scratchy, and steve's memory brings him back to the night before. the two sat on the porch and smoked cigarette after cigarette while they caught up, thighs touching and fingers brushing as they traded them back and forth.

"it would have been if i didn't know that you guys don't have a voicemail."

"touche," eddie responds. steve can hear the smile laced in his voice and he can vaguely make out something in the background, maybe the tv or a record, and he can't help but picture what eddie might be doing. his brain supplies flashes of eddie standing around the sound system the night before, his hair wild, smile even wilder when he looks up at steve as he convinces ray to turn on tears for fears for him and-

something flutters around in his stomach for a second before settling and it has steve blushing. he wants to slap himself back into reality.

"did you get home okay?" he asks, phone cord wrapping around his finger like he's talking to a girl he's sweet on or like a curl twisting over his hand as he plays with someone's hair. "after the party?"

he hears eddie sigh and what must be their metal kitchen chairs scraping across the linoleum flooring. "yeah, got back last night."

the hangover from the morning is fading and with it goes the blissful ignorance of not thinking back on embarrassing moments from the night before. steve's no stranger to making dumb decisions during a night out, but hearing eddie's voice is pulling at something like a loose thread on a well loved sweater. he feels like he's unraveling, getting closer and closer to the end of the thread before he's laid bare.

"good, that's good." steve goes quiet as does eddie, uncharacteristically quiet as whatever it drones on in the background. "so why-"

"let's not go there, okay?" eddie cuts him off and it has him frowning.

"go where?" steve asks while his eyes trace over the remnants of the lipstick kiss on his wrist and he fights the urge to see if his lips fit over it, too.

it's almost a minute but feels like longer when he finally breaks the silence. "to why i wrote my number on your arm, that's where we're not going."

"okay but you didn't just write your number... which by the way, thanks for using lipstick instead of pen like a normal person because it got all smudged and you have no idea how many random houses i had to call before i got to you and..." steve takes in a breath to stop himself from rambling any further and hears eddie do the same.

"i didn't have a pen, steve-"

"-and you kissed my arm, at least i'm assuming that was you." eddie chokes on the other end of the line. "i'm not upset or anything, ed, just confused."

there's more silence cut through only by eddie cursing under his breath.

"was it a joke? get me to think someone wanted me to... i don't know, take them out or something?" steve has to ask, feeling a tiny part of his heart ache to ask it.

eddie curses to himself again, this time a little louder. "it's not a joke, i swear. i think i just got a little brave with our good friend mr. jack daniels and... you know?"

"... no? know what?"

"i just-" eddie groans, "you were right, steve. someone.... someone does want you to take them out, just not someone you would think would want to date you."

steve's head is still pounding, fragments of his hangover still lingering around. it makes him want to crawl into bed instead of listening to eddie's riddles, draw the curtains shut and wake up when he can wrap his head around things again. he closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath in an attempt to calm his fluttering nerves.

"let me get this straight. you wrote your phone number on my arm ruining some poor girl's lipstick and kissed my fucking wrist to go along with it, all because some mysterious someone wants me to ask them out?"

"... yes?"

"so why did you write your number and not that someone's?"

eddie whines and he sounds like a little kid throwing a temper tantrum despite his deep voice from chainsmoking with him the night before and oh.

the curls tickling his neck. the smile he threw at steve from across the room. the way he goaded the makeshift dj into playing his song. the ever so gentle fingers holding his shoulder steady so he could light his cigarette off his own. the stars bouncing off the darkness of his eyes and the touch of fingertips against his cheek when he pulled the blanket up to steve's chin as he fell asleep on the couch and a whispered "g'night stevie" with his breath grazing his ear and-

"oh."

"and he's got it, ladies and gentlemen!" eddie fakes cheers and applause while steve chokes on his own stuttering breath at the realization. "only took him calling half of hawkins to put it together."

"hey, be nice to me, i had to solve your riddle with a hangover." steve laughs along side eddie and he can see it. it wouldn't be like a regular date, not by a longshot, where he takes a girl to some moderately priced restaurant followed by a movie where he gets to hold her hand. it'll be more like eddie, where he gets to laugh and be himself and not worry about saying the wrong thing, like he actually wants steve there and not just his reputation.

the silence this time around is a little more comfortable. a little more light. steve's finger tightens around the phone cord and it isn't all that hard to imagine it as a dark brown curl instead.

"and you better be extra nice to me when you let me take you out on that date."

[missjashin]

It’s been some time and Dustin and Steve go to see Wayne. Maybe he is moving out of Hawkins and they go to help with packing or maybe they just wanna check on him and he is reminiscing Eddie. Either way he has punch of old photos out. School photos, birthdays, first concerts, various different types from different ages.

One photo really catches Steve’s eye tho. It’s a group photo from the early 70s, taken in the summer. Steve asks Wayne “Why do you have this?”, seemingly little shocked and bewildered by the photo. Wayne looks at the photo and smiles telling it was taken in a summer camp Eddie once went. “That’s my boy” Wayne tells pointing one kid among the others. Dustin also looks at the photo and smiles. It seems like a good and happy memory.

So Wayne and Dustin get little puzzled when they hear choked sob coming from Steve. He is trying to hold it together but not really succeeding, his hands in his hair pulling so hard it can’t be comfortable. Just walking away from them now, fighting the tears. Rather weird and strong reaction for a mere summer camp photo, especially coming from Steve… Till you take a little closer look at the photo.

Because yes, with his buzz cut hair and thousand watt smile there’s little Eddie. Little Eddie who has his arm over another kid’s shoulder, pulling closer a little boy with a sweet smile, chestnut hair and tiny moles dotted on his face.

[hungharrington]

What do you think Steve's favorite part of your body is? Ass? Boobs? Thighs? Lips? or something else?

you’re delirious if you think he has just one favorite babycakes ! at any given moment, you could ask him and he’d probably still manage to surprise you.

sometimes steve’s predictable — wear that low cut top? your boobs are the thing he can’t get enough of. he’s eying them, sneaking a squeeze, dropping a hickey when he can so everyone knows that those beautiful boobs are taken. a tight skirt? you can be pretty sure he’s drooling over your ass, especially with how he insists you walk before him and how he just happens to have his hand in your back pocket the whole night.

but! but he still surprises you!

you wear a new dress that he’s never seen before and steve can’t keep his hands off you, can’t stop pawing at your sides, can’t stop kissing up your neck even though you’re definitely going to be late for you date and when his hands smooth down your sides, he groans appreciatively and rolls his head back, “god, you look gorgeous. i honestly don’t think i can let you leave like this— i think i’m too obsessed with how fucking good you look in this dress.”

then he sinks to knees, his hands creeping around your waist to hold you as he kisses, slow and languid kisses atop your tummy. and you laugh, a little in surprise, a little in disbelief because he’s kissing your tummy.

“i would’ve thought you’d love the ass…” you comment quietly. you make a move to swivel around but steve’s hands don’t let you, his brown eyes peering up at you sincerely as he says, “are you kidding me? i mean, it’s great as always—“ he gives it a little pat, still grinning up at you endearingly. “but this—” he runs his hand down your sternum, trailing across the plains of your stomach. “and these.” his hands trails down to your hips, giving them a firm loving squeeze. “and christ, don’t get me started on these.” his huge hands wrap around the skin of your thighs and you have to fight the inbuilt instinct of parting your legs whenever steve gets his hands on them.

steve kisses the exposed skin, his nose nuzzling in, stealing the scent of the perfume along your inner thighs before he raises himself off his knees. his hands tuck under your jaw, cradling it as he kisses you once, quick, before mumbling against your lips, “fuck, honey, i’m— it’s adorable that you think i could focus on anything else.”

[qomrades]

I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things We can do the tango just for two 🎶

drew more steddie ✨ i think they should dance terribly together

[manwrre]

i desperately need some rancher or cowboy!billy in my life. i’m talking tall and buff and sososo golden; from the sun-toned ringlets of his hair, to the scars and stretch marks across his arms and hips. i want him slaving on the ranch all day in the heat until he’s freckled just about everywhere.

i want him burning— smoldering eyes and this lopsided grin that promises nothing but white-hot pleasure. and he’s known for wearing his trademark, black leather pants with flaming red stars on the ass because he knows that he’s got it. he knows that they accentuate his thighs and grip his backside just right and drive at least half of the backward town’s population absolutely wild.

he’s also the perfect mixture of foul mouthed and dripping with sugary sweet charm. i mean, on average, he’s just so quick-tongued and crude and cusses just about anyone to tears. but when he really wants it, he drops his voice into this honeyed, little southern drawl and calls everyone ‘sugar’ and ‘doll’. he’s been talking guys and girls outta their drawers for as long as he’s been apart of this rodeo.

and he’s got a temper that he’s inherited from his sonofabitch daddy but attracts everyone because he glitters like his mom’s creek-caught gold. he’s daring too, of course, so he bull rides and sharpshoots and is always up for a bar fight.

i can imagine him and city boy!steve meeting for the first time. like, billy’s all

“lookin’ a lil lost ‘ere, sweetheart. town’s about two miles back that way.” he nods off in the direction that steve’s come from, steadying his horse.

and steve just frowns at his mocking tone, squinting up at him in the summer heat.

“i’m not lost— i’m just looking for the head rancher. have you seen him?”

“whaddaya need him for? ‘stole your girl or somethin’ because we settle that out on the street, not at a man’s job.”

and it honest to god feels like steve’s being toyed with; like billy’s making fun of him. he’s got this pinched look going for him and embarrassment makes him snap,

“you know what, it’s actually none of your business so if you could just point me in his direction, i’ll be outta your hands and on my way.”

and billy’s amusement spreads across his entire face this time; his smile shattering his cheeks, like cracks on a sidewalk. he’s all,

“except, that’s where you’re wrong, doll. you want the ranch hand, well you’ve got his undivided attention,” with this shit-eating grin and yk, just titters.

as you can imagine, steve gapes and catches himself and billy thinks both, “wow, this guy’s an ass” and “he’s cute, in a baby calf kinda way” and unbeknownst to each other, that’s the start of ‘em.

[artiststarme]

What if Vecna cursed Steve instead of Max?

Steve has ignored his own problems for as long as he could remember. He would leave his unfinished homework at home when he knew it was due that day. He’d purposely avoid going to the doctor in order to live a little longer in ignorant bliss, to hell with the threat of further damage. He’d even leave his gas tank at a quarter full when he knew he had a long drive just so he wouldn’t have to look at an empty wallet. 

So, when his nightmares got worse and his nose started bleeding at random times and he started seeing things that weren’t actually there, well that was just another thing to ignore completely. He put a bandaid on the issue with a bottle of Tylenol and started wearing sunglasses indoors. But as the week wore on, the bags beneath his eyes began to bruise and his hair lost its pizazz. 

Robin was worried about him, that he could tell. She would hand him a homemade lunch any time he drove her to school. On their shifts together at Family Video, she would stick him in the back to rewind tapes, sort through new shipments, or even take a nap. Every day, her eyes would get more concerned until her face developed a look of perpetual worry. But, Steve ignored it. So, he had a few bad nightmares that caused him to wake up in a fit of panic. Who cares that he’d taken to carrying an extra shirt in his car because he was having so many nosebleeds? Not him. 

When the kids coerced him into finding Eddie, he was hesitant but woefully inept in arguing with them. He didn’t expect his old dealer from high school to hold a broken bottle to his throat. Certainly didn’t expect to be turned on by it either but that was something to contemplate at a much later time, preferably never. 

They found out that the Upside Down was back at it again and later found out that Chrissy and Fred had been having nightmares, nosebleeds, and depression. That they were having strong feelings of worthlessness and guilt. And if that didn’t summarize Steve to a T, he didn’t know what did. 

And Robin knew too. She called him out on it, at first in secret but when he brushed it off, she told the group. Steve would never forget the horror on Dustin’s face when he found out that he was cursed. It gave them a new sense of determination. They had to save their babysitter, nay- their friend, no matter what the cost. 

But Steve? He wasn’t sure he was worth the effort. His life certainly wasn’t even slightly as important as the lives of any of his friends. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice any of them so he was immediately against any and all of their plans. 

He almost died too. When they were lounging at his house, strategizing and such, Vecna got him. He started to lift into the air and could feel his bones creaking under an invisible force. Robin and Nance called Dustin right then to tell him about the effect music had on the victim. Eddie, poor, poor Eddie, started singing Tears for Fears right away and Steve was so enamored with his deep, dulcet voice that he managed to escape. When they asked his favorite song later that day, Steve lied and said it was the Head Over Heels that Eddie had sung. 

He didn’t want to out himself by saying it was Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen. Steve was nothing if not an enigma. A man of layers upon layers hiding from his friends and everyone else behind a facade. 

They believed him, why wouldn’t they? Dustin forced a walkman into his hands and headphones over his ears. Then Robin and Eddie forced him to keep them on. The blaring music and grating voices helped him tune out of reality and focus on his thoughts. 

He was going to die and he was fine with that. As long as everyone else was safe, he’d take the L. He felt like his entire life led to this moment. Nothing he ever did was ever meaningful, ever important. But his death would be because he would save the lives that mattered. Robin, Dustin, Nancy, Eddie, Max, and Lucas would be safe. And they had each other so they would be fine. Dustin, the kid he saw as the little brother he’d always wanted, he would have Eddie. Steve knew that Eddie was his new favorite anyway. Robin? She had been mooning over Nancy since they had met up at the trailer park. She could be her best friend with Steve out of the way. Everyone else there just put up with Steve for the others so they wouldn’t miss him either. 

While he was zoned out, they decided that Steve would be the bait for Vecna in the Creel house. He could lure him there while Nancy and Robin killed his physical body from the Upside Down. They told him he just needed to focus on good memories because Vecna couldn’t find him there. 

But when push came to shove, Steve didn’t have any good memories. Even in the fun times, the times that were supposed to be fully happy, there was always a background tinge of sadness. From the earliest times he could remember to the times of late, he couldn’t think of a time he’d been truly, completely happy. 

His childhood birthday parties, he was supposed to be having fun and being a kid. Instead, he had to play the part of happy families in front of all of his dad’s work friends. He got presents but he also got abandoned by his parents any time they wanted to go on a trip. 

His first win at little league? His dad gave him his first concussion when they got home because he tagged Joshua Evans out. Joshua’s dad worked with his dad and Steve had embarrassed him by costing his team the point. 

His first A on a history test? His teacher pulled him back after class and accused him of cheating because there was no way Steve Harrington could ever study hard enough to get an A. He was much too dumb for that, right?

Even the more recent times with his found family, he couldn’t think of any times he’d truly been happy. He’s always content at work around Robin. But there’s always a fear that she’s going to leave and he’ll lose everything. She was his only true friend and when she went to school, he knew he’d be all alone. 

The times when Dustin or Max or Lucas asked him for rides? Even when they’re happy singing along in the car or laughing with each other, Steve feels a sharp sense of jealousy because he knows he’ll never have friends that care about him like that or want him around. He never had and he never would. 

And so, when Vecna finds him, Steve is all too easy for him to catch. As the Party scrambles to figure out his favorite song and settles for the wrong one. As El tries to traipse through Steve’s happy memories but finds none. And as Robin, Eddie, Dustin, and Nancy scream at him to fight. Steve gives up. And Vecna has his final victim.

@doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog

[hairmetal666]

WIP Wednesday!

Eddie whistles. “Some room, Stevie.” 

Without a second of hesitation, Steve takes Eddie in his arms, pushes the other man against the wall, slots their mouths together, Steve fisting his hand into Eddie’s hair to hold tight. Eddie sighs at the touch, the sound turning to a groan when Steve gives the curls a tug.

“Such a spoiled little brat,” Eddie slurs.

Steve is a brat, is the thing. He knows it, has been a brat to Eddie specifically for weeks now. For some reason, though, it makes him laugh to hear Eddie say it, to know that Eddie thinks Steve is a brat for being too rich, too frivolous, too everything, and not because sometimes Steve is just a bitch. 

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asks. His eyebrows quirked, those deep brown eyes alight with amusement. 

“I’m not spoiled, Eddie.” 

Eddie lets his gaze roam around the room. 

“None of this is part of my real life. This—” He gestures to the windowed wall, the chrome fixtures, the balcony that spans the length of the room. “—It’s all just window dressing.” 

“That right?” Eddie asks. “Not the prodigal son? Not King Steve back for his rightful throne?” His callused thumb brushes along Steve’s jaw.

“You don’t know me.” There’s no heat behind it, just a fact. 

Eddie huffs out a laugh. “Maybe I’d like to.” 

Chapter 18 out Saturday!

[phantombeesting]

Billy: “Look I’ve said I’m sorry”

Steve: ……

Billy: “Repeatedly”

Steve: …….

Billy: “But you look at him”

~Billy lifts up the fluffiest kitten putting it’s small ginger face right in front of Steve’s totally not sulking face~

Billy: “Just look at him and tell me he’s not a pretty boy”

Steve: ……..

Billy: “You’re still MY pretty boy though”

[hawkinsbnbg]

lover boys

prompt: one | word count: 111 | rated: G | @steddiemicrofic | ao3

Dating Eddie Munson was a novel experience.

For once, Steve wasn't the one rushing to open the doors or buying flowers. Instead, he got to be the focus of Eddie's undivided attention and unwavering devotion.

“I can do this myself,” he mumbled after Eddie dropped to one knee before him.

“I know,” Eddie glanced up with a fond smile, deftly tying the laces for him. “But I wanna spoil my baby, make him the happiest boy in the world.”

Blushing, Steve ducked his head and said softly.

“You already succeeded by being my boyfriend.”

He was pulled into a tender kiss as soon as Eddie stood up, feeling cherished and adored.

[gangsterscraft]

this idea is most likely already somewhere out there but pre s4 post s3 where steve and eddie befriend each other and they're both pining, strictly friends, making each other mixtapes and they get together at the end of their days to discuss the tapes like their yays and nays and even though they defend the songs that are put low on the other's list they never get overly offended by any of it because sharing something like music with one another is so fun and its nice that an equal amount of effort is put in by both sides. from their experience, not a lot people care to listen and the fact that they got insanely lucky to have found someone who does, they don't dare take it for granted. the only person from the party who knows about how they hangout practically every single day is robin, only because eddie's always loitering in family video and steve speaks of him nonstop.

so, when s4 rolls around and eddie's getting vecna'd, and everyones screaming for metal music to be played, they are not expecting it to fail and for a love ballad, suggested from his best pal steve, to actually work.

and vice versa, steve gets vecna'd and huhhhh whatttt why is abba not working???? then when eddie suggests another song the party look at him like he's grown an extra head until robin backs him up and says to listen to eddie. lo and behold steve's favorite song is a zeppelin song

[thesugarclubs-blog]

Winner Takes All - Steve Rogers x OC

warnings: frat boy college steve rogers, roommates to lovers, 'it's always been you'

word count: 7.7k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1417543778-winner-takes-all-drew

Vibe: "Steve shook his head, moving to press a kiss to the small freckle at the base of her throat, "Poetry class. First year." he admitted, sitting up and meeting her gaze once more. "I didn't even know what I was doing in that class, and then this blonde firecracker sat next to me, and suddenly it turned into my favorite. She could meet me sarcastic comment for sarcastic comment, and bullied me, and made me question everything, but she also taught me more then that professor did all semester and drove me so insane that I agreed to be her roommate just to be near her."

Masterlist

Drew’s fluffy socks skimmed over the wooden floor of the apartment, hands full with four beer bottles and a bag of chips tucked under her arm. 

The kitchen was quiet except for the odd noise filtering from a bedroom down the hall. A muffled but distinctive groan from her idiot of a roommate and a giggle she didn’t recognise made Drew roll her eyes as she shuffled her way back to the living room. 

As she passed through she palmed one beer off to Sam, laid out on the floor with the PlayStation controller left abandoned by his side and his eyes glued to his phone, and one each to Bucky and Natasha, who had somehow managed to both fit curled up together on the armchair despite the whole couch being empty. 

Friday afternoons often went like this, they’d find themselves lazing in Drew and Steve’s apartment. Sometimes they’d just stay in and sometimes their afternoon beers led to pre-drinking and bar hopping. 

Their bottles were nearly empty by the time Steve and his company finally emerged, hushed voices and laughter echoing all the way to the front door before it swung swiftly closed, and Drew glanced up to see her roommate entering the living room — his dirty-blond hair disheveled, lips pink and t-shirt all askew. 

“Aw, didn’t want to introduce us to your hook up, Rogers?” Bucky asked, smirk on his lips as he shoved a handful of chip crumbs into his mouth. 

“And put her through the pain of meeting you losers?” 

Steve grinned as he hopped over the back of the couch, making himself comfy in the spot right beside Drew and plucking the beer from her hand, draining the last of it. 

“Hey!” 

“Don’t you have a date you should be getting ready for?” Steve countered, wiggling his eyebrows. “Patrick or Pedro or something?” 

“Peter, but you knew that Steven.” 

“Yep. Anyway, you don’t mind if I shower first, do you?”

He was up again before Drew could argue, rounding the couch and smacking a wet kiss to her cheek from behind.

Drew begrudgingly watched him saunter off to their shared bathroom, her attention only pulled away from Steve’s toned back when Natasha cleared her throat and Bucky stifled a laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing D,” he shook his head but she knew that look. 

“It’s never going to happen,” Natasha finally piped up, “Rogers is a coward, say goodbye to your money Buck.” 

He ruffled a hand through her thick red hair, flinching back when she threatened him under her breath. 

“What money?” Drew raised an eyebrow. “I feel out of the loop.”

“You are the loop, it’s torture watching you and Steve going around in a circle. So we made a bet…” Sam’s playful nature died on his lips with a kick from Natasha. 

“A bet?” Drew wasn’t completely in the dark. Not when it came to her feelings about Steve. But they were friends, barely and in he was constantly preoccupied by someone prettier and funnier.

"What kind of bet?" Drew asked hesitantly. Her mind already summing up the reason behind their friends' mischevious ways.

Sam gave her a side glance from his position on the floor that said "are you really asking that question?" while Bucky answered with a grin, "Who would give in first. My money says you– Ow! What the fuck Nat?!"

Natasha had a glare on her face as she cut him off and smacked him up the head.

"Just cause he's been your friend since kindergarten doesn't automatically make him a winner, you ass!" Nat defended.

Drew huffed an indignant breath and tried to glare at her so called friends.

"Oh, boy. Can someone with a little more common sense tell me what kind of bet this is. I would like to know how that bet involves me." She asked, faking a stern tone trying to get one of them to talk.

Natasha stared at her, exasperation clear on her face. The red head’s rigid look was just enough to break Drew’s resolve rather than wait for one of them to answer her clearly. 

“You're my best friend Drew, so I can say this. Stop acting so dense. You know what it’s about and it’s a lot deeper than what these two doofus’ faces or tones are showing.” 

Bucky and Sam mumbled in offense, pressing their lips together as soon as Nat narrowed her eyes at them. 

“I just want you to let yourself be happy, D” 

Drew felt her heart clench inside her chest at her friend’s words. She should’ve known Nat would catch her no matter how hard she tried to just be friends with Steve, she knows her too well. 

Before she could answer, the bathroom door unlocking filled her silence. And like a saving grace Steve’s voice boomed through the hallway. 

“Showers all yours Drewski!” 

Heat rose up her chest and neck as her eyes flicked between the boys and Nat before pushing herself up. 

“I have a date to get ready for.” She muttered.

With that, the blonde rounded the couch and headed down the hallway, pausing to grab her towel off the back of her bedroom door. She let out a huff and shook her head once,  trying her best to push her friend's betrayal out of her mind. They were crazy if they thought something was going to happen between her and Steve. That boy wouldn't recognize her as more than a roommate if she up and slapped him across the face with her feelings. Which Drew had to admit did sound like a pleasing idea. 

She let out a small laugh to herself before a clear of his throat pulled her from her head. 

"Whatcha thinking about, princess?" Steve smirked, roughly rubbing his towel over his dirty blonde hair. 

A drop of water from his hair ran down his neck and Drew couldn't help but follow the trail with her eyes. quickly biting the inside of her cheek before she returned her gaze to him with an eye roll, "First of all, I told you to stop calling me that. And if you must know, I was thinking about how satisfying it would be to slap you across the face," the blonde quipped as she stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door before he could answer.

Stomping grumpily into the shower to the echo of Steve’s laughter, Drew lathered her hair and gave her scalp an overly vicious scrub. Natasha’s words raced around her brain.  She loved her friend with every fiber of her being but she was wrong. There was no-way that hulking blond jackass had any feelings other than irritation  and plain devilment towards her.

With a frustrated sigh she began her pre-date shower routine, even breaking out the hardcore expensive body wash that her mom had bought her last Christmas. By the time she stepped out of the shower, Drew was determined not to let that ape or her meddling friends derail her plans for a good night.

Back in her bedroom, Drew perched on the edge of her bed. Hair wrapped in a towel, she slathered moisturizer on her legs as she hummed along softly to her date night playlist. 

She could hear the boys laughing in the living room, Steve’s obnoxious shouting and the music of whichever video game they’d gone back to playing, when she heard the quiet knock on her door. 

“You can come in, Nat,” Drew called, unraveling her hair from the towel and squeezing out the damp ends.

Natasha wandered into the room and sunk against the dresser, picking at the chipping paint that coated the old wood. "You know that it's all in your best interest?"

"What?" Drew said as she hung the towel. "Dating Steve? It's clear it's a game to you guys."

"It's not," Natasha said in a more serious tone and tapped the dresser to get my attention. "At least it wasn't, we've been watching you both around each other and it only got worse when you started living together. Steve is blind to anyone else in the room when you're around and you're the only person who doesn't see it."

"I have a date," Drew noted, shoving down the butterflies that fluttered in her chest at the thought and checking her reflection in the mirror before adding some mascara to her lashes. 

"With some dweeb that won't even remember you like orange juice with the pulp, or that you like vanilla creamer in your coffee after if he gives you thirty second mind blowing sex," Nat rolled her eyes and mocked Drew in what was supposed to be a frat boys confident swagger.

Steve always remembered the orange juice.

"I'm sorry you're out twenty bucks Natasha," Drew stared at her before collecting her bag and going to leave. 

"My phones on," Nat said from her position in Drew's room, "text me if you need an exit strategy."

"Always,"  Drew offered a smile and snuck from the apartment before the guys could hassle her further about the situation.

Thirty minutes into the date, Drew was already itching to reach for her phone and beg Natasha for a fake emergency. Peter was a completely different person outside of their Psych class. Loud, obnoxious and flirted with every waitress that passed their table. Steve's obnoxious too. She thought as she stared at the man in front of her as he shoved onion ring after onion ring into his mouth. He rambled on about anything and everything under the sun since they sat down. Yeah, but Steve doesn't eat like a Neanderthal. 

Drew shook her head of thoughts of Steve and focused on the football game on the TV behind him. It was ironic, that the only thing getting her through this was a game she cared nothing about and yet felt less than because Steve wasn't around to scream at the television. 

Once they finished eating, they split the bill and Peter walked her outside. A shit-eating grin on his face. 

"What?" she asked, looking up at him with an awkward laugh. 

"Nothing," Peter shrugged, "it's just that I'm surprised Rogers let you out of the house." He took a step towards her, dragging his fingers down her bare arms. Drew had to fight off an actual shiver as she stepped out of his touch. "I'm glad he did though." 

I'm not.

"What do you mean by let me out?" She fought to keep her face neutral as she forced the words out of her mouth, taking half a step more out of his reach. 

"Ya' know," he shrugged with a smirk. 

"No, I don't." She bit out.

"He's always around you somehow, like a goddamn guard dog. Do you know how many times I tried to ask you out but he was always there?"

what?!

Peter's annoying rambling continued, unaware of just how much Drew was losing interest in him, what was left of it anyway.

"I finally got Rocket to corner him to ask about the team try-outs as a distraction so I could talk to you." He finished. Smugness radiated off of him and the sight made Drew furious.

"Goodnight, Peter. Don't bother calling." Drew turned on her heels, fuming and left him, confused and annoyed on the sidewalk.

I should have stayed home with my friends, she thought as she walked to her car that she was glad she took instead of having Peter pick her up. Him touching bare arm had been enough to make her skin crawl. But what concerned her even more was the way Peter called Steve a guard dog. There was a bite to his tone as if he was staking his claim on her like she was a toy on the playground toddlers fought over.

She sniffled as she unlocked her car and sat in the seat. Wiping her eyes, she pulled out her phone and texted Nat. 

Drew: Things didn't go well. I told him not to call me.

Tossing her phone into the passenger seat, Drew made her way home, tightly gripping her steering wheel as Exes by Tate McRae sounded loudly through the car. She silently reminded herself that she'd have to thank Steve for preventing that from happening sooner. Her body shivered in disgust as she threw the car in park, looking up at her building. 

Her phone let out a soft ding as Nat reacted to her message with a heart, telling her she'd be over in the morning to hear all about it. With a sigh of defeat, Drew climbed from her small car, grabbed her bag and headed up to the apartment, preparing herself for the inevitable jeering that she'd receive from Steve when she walked in. 

As expected, the light from the TV caught her eye when she walked in. 

Here we go, she thought to herself. 

"Wow, home at 9 PM? You must have found your soulmate," His raspy voice sounded from the living room. She could almost hear the smirk that was plastered on his lips when she moved herself to sit on the opposite side of the couch from him. 

"Don't start," Drew muttered, pulling her legs underneath herself as she tied her blonde waves into a messy bun on the top of her head.

She could actually feel his eyes as they analyzed her demeanor before he let out a little huff, rising from the couch and rustling around in the kitchen for a few moments before returning. 

As he passed the armchair that Drew usually occupied he grabbed her favorite blanket. Tossing the woolen kaleidoscope over her knees, he handed her a beer and then sat again, taking a swig out of his own bottle.

They stayed sitting in silence for a moment longer before Steve hummed, picking at the label on his beer. 

“You wanna talk about it?” 

“Not yet,” Drew murmured, “just kinda wanna stew in my frustration for a little while.” 

Steve huffed out a small chuckle, still just as rich and deep and causing a familiar warmth to curl in her belly. 

She hated it. 

“He that much of a dick?” Steve asked, tucking his leg up on the couch as he turned to face her. 

“Off the scale.”

She could smell the pine and spice from his cologne as he shifted closer. 

"Am I on the scale?" He asked, brows raising. 

Drew couldn't tell if it was concern or pure cockiness that fueled his question but it dragged a small chuckle from her lips and she could feel herself relaxing. "Yeah it goes, one to Steve Rogers." 

"So I beat Porter?" He flashed the most handsome of smiles at her and lifted his beer for a sip. 

"Peter," Drew corrected him again. "And we aren't measuring the size of your dick, were measuring how much of a dick you are."

"Wins a win, Drewski." He winked at her and the warmth returned. 

"I hate that you do that," she said, picking at her own bottles label now. 

"What?" Steve's voice dropped. 

"Make me feel better. Steve..." She stopped, unsure she even wanted to ask. "Did you," she cleared her throat, "do you prevent guys in class from asking me out?"

“What? Nah, I mean, I might’ve talked to a guy or two, made sure they really knew what they wanted- but it’s all chill,” Steve shrugged, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. 

“Steve! It is not ‘chill’!” Drew exclaimed, turning to face him. “I’m a big girl I can tell guys yes or no on my own.”

“C’mon princess, don’t get all twisted, I was looking out for you.” Steve said, leaning towards her and Drew narrowed her eyes. 

“Not a princess.” she said pushing Steve away, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the couch.

She could feel his gaze on her again. Burning a hole into the side of her head as she sunk further into the cushions. Her favorite blanket acting as a barrier between them. 

"No," he said finally, "definitely not a princess." 

Drew looked over at him, those big blue eyes staring back at her only seemed to glow in the light of the TV. "Why?" She asked softly, "And don't give the whole just protecting me bit." 

Steve let out a groan as his head fell back against the couch. "Look okay, I may have told a few of the guys not to mess around with you. That's all." He shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. But it was. She didn't need Steve to protect her or her feelings for that matter. She was an adult who could handle them all the same. 

"Why Steve?" She pushed again for an answer but was only met with those same blue eyes as they darkened. 

"Because they were saying some real fucked up shit and I didn't appreciate it and you definitely didn't deserve to be talked about that way."

She was taken aback by the way his face suddenly lost all the playfulness that was there a minute ago. His lips were drawn into a tight line and his brows furrowed. Somehow, she still didn’t understand why he wanted to protect her so badly. 

"You don't need to do that, Steve." her tone soft, speaking more to herself.

"I'm sorry, honey bee. I didn’t mean to upset you."

"You... you didn't upset me," she told him quietly. "It's just... Why do you want to protect me so much?"

"Because I like you, Drew," he told her, his face serious. "I don't want anyone to hurt you."

"I'm a big girl, Rogers, I can take care of myself, you know?" 

Steve huffed and shook his head, "Believe me, I know you can D, I just - if you had heard what those guys were saying, I couldn't - I couldn't let them near you" 

Silence fell between them for a moment as Steve moved himself forward just enough so his leg was brushing hers and his arm draped lazily around the back of the couch. His fingers played with the edge of her blanket, his eyes cast downward as Drew watched him. 

"Guard dog," Drew whispered, smiling softly and breathing out a small laugh as she shook her head, "That's what Peter called you. I didn't even notice that you'd been protecting me like that until he said it" 

"Quill's an asshole," Steve muttered, watching the fluff of the blanket run through his finger tips.

"Steve," Drew placed her hand on his knee, his blue eyes flickering back up to hers, "Thank you,"

“Shut up,” he murmured, his face closing down, but there was something in his expression that Drew couldn’t let go.

“No, really,” she pressed. “I don’t have that many people to lol out for me so…I appreciate it, Steve.”

“Bucky would do the same, or Nat,” he said, waving his hand dismissively.

“Would they?” Drew questioned, narrowing her eyes and leaning forward slightly, invading his space more than she usually would.

“I—“ Steve paused, his gaze flitting across her face, blue eyes lingering just a moment on her mouth as she worried at her bottom lip. Steve sucked in a breath, settling back a little.

Drew furrowed her brow, trying to ignore the twist in her stomach as her roommate distanced himself again. 

“You what, Steve?” 

“I think they would,” he replied, “but they don’t live with you, D. They don’t watch you leave for a date with a douchebag and sit hoping you walk through that door unharmed, or just hoping you walk through that door at all.”

Drew stared at him for a long moment, watching his deep blue eyes flicker from her to the door. 

“You wait for me?” She asked finally. She had never really noticed but thinking back on the last few months, no matter how late she arrived Steve had always been in the same spot on the couch. 

Sometimes he said nothing, sometimes he’d ask if she slammed the door a little harder than normal. But he always found a reason to be home while she was on a date. 

“I’m hurt you never noticed,” he clutched his chest playfully.

Drew looked into Steve’s eyes and saw actual hurt there, surprising her. 

“Steve…that’s really sweet,” She said, leaning her head onto the back of the couch, forgetting Steve’s arm was there until she was resting on it. 

Drew didn’t move right away, and Steve didn’t pull away, so she stayed where she was. 

“Yeah, that’s me; the sweet one,” Steve said, rolling his eyes.

Drew’s throat suddenly felt dry. He really did wait for her. And he really did seem hurt. Were their friends right? 

“Don’t sell yourself short, kid” she quipped. 

Immediate regret when Steve guffawed. And while she mentally kicked herself for that dumb adage, he readjusted and wrapped his arm around her.

He nuzzled against the top of her head, a smile still pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Thanks for the advice, princess.”

"Not a princess," She mumbled with a frown, causing him to laugh. 

"There's no way you like Drewski better." He grinned, pulling back enough to look down at her. 

Drew laughed. "Honestly? I do." 

Steve tossed his head back with a laugh, her favorite kind. His eyes crinkled, mouth hung open and the room filled with the sound that made butterflies in her chest explode.

"Alright, Drewski. You want another beer ?" Steve asked, getting up from the couch and taking the two empty bottles from the coffee table. 

"Actually, I need to get out of these clothes. Be right back." She threw the blanket back and got up as well.

"You need help with those ?"

She heard Steve say, a low chuckle left his throat, his voice laced with mischief. 

"Behave, Rogers." she answered, sauntering off into her room, passing by Steve, who stood in front of the kitchen island watching her walk away, swaying her hips a little more with each step.

As she shut her bedroom door behind her, Drew rested against it with a sigh. Why am I flirting with him? He's not pushing me away... maybe I should up my game a bit? 

Quickly, Drew changed out of her clothes, donning a tank top and a pair of sleep pants before returning to the living area of the apartment. There was a beer already waiting for her beside her favorite spot, which made her smile as she sat down. "Thank you, Steve."

“Gotta keep my favorite girl hydrated,” Steve chuckled, a soft blush warming his cheeks. Drew’s eyes followed where his pinking skin trailed beneath his shirt. 

“Your favorite girl, huh?” 

“I think Bucky would kill me if I said Natasha was my favorite so… y’know, had to go with my second choice.” 

Drew gasped, swatting Steve across his very broad, very firm chest and making him choke out a laugh. 

“Rude. You can be honest, Stevie. I won’t let it ruin your star football player, ladies man reputation if you wanna be soft for once. Promise.” 

Steve sighed and settled in close again, Drew’s heart rate picking up at the sheer warmth of him against her side. 

“You’ve always been my favorite, honey bee.”

She looked up at him to find him staring down at her and the breath caught in her throat under his gaze. 

play it cool Drew, don’t flip out.

“Honey bee is cute, how many girls have heard that nickname?” She attempted to recover as the blush tickled at her cheeks. 

“Only you,” he said, not looking away. 

“You’re very smooth, Rogers,” she huffed when she realized how close they were.

“All part of the charm,” Steve grinned, and Drew laughed, staring as his grin slipped into a pout. 

“Cute,” Drew scoffed, but Steve’s eyes lit up. 

“You think I’m cute?” He asked quietly, his eyes focused on her lips as she quickly licked them, biting down on her lower lip. 

Drew noticed Steve’s breathing getting deeper, heavier, and she looked up to find his gaze had darkened.

"I..." 

She hesitated. The words wouldn't come out. Yes, I think you're cute!

"C'mon, don't get shy on me now, Drewski."

Steve's voice had dropped about an octave. Goosebumps tickled to the surface of her skin. She couldn't help but giggle at what was unfolding here.

The smile that spread across his face at the sound sent warmth spreading through her body. He reached up, gently dragging his knuckles along her cheek. Tiny sparks lit up her skin as he tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. "That's my favorite sound in the world." He rasped searching her eyes before they flickered down to her lips again. 

"Steve," she whispered. 

"Tell me not to kiss you right now Drew," he said, his lips so close to hers she could feel the warmth of his breath fanning against her skin. "Tell me to back off and I will, but if you don't..." The words trailed off and she shook her head pushing away every single doubt she had about the man sitting in front of her. 

"I won't." She whispered and that's all it took for him to crash his mouth against her own.

Drew gasped into his mouth, her hand instantly moving to rest on the back of his neck as their lips moved in sync with each other. It wasn't long before she could feel him brush his tongue against her lips, asking for entrance, which she happily gave. She could taste the beer he'd been drinking along with mint from the gum he always carried on him, making her moan quietly.

She felt Steve's lips curl up at the soft sound that escaped her throat, pulling another giggle from her. Quickly pressing another kiss to her lips with a smile, he moved to trace her jaw with wet open-mouthed kisses. 

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he whispered against her skin. 

Drew let her head fall back and slightly to the side as her eyes fluttered closed, "Tell me," she breathed. 

Steve shook his head, moving to press a kiss to the small freckle at the base of her throat, "Poetry class. First year." he admitted, sitting up and meeting her gaze once more. "I didn't even know what I was doing in that class, and this blonde firecracker sat next to me, and suddenly it turned into my favorite class. She could meet me sarcastic comment for sarcastic comment, and bullied me, and made me question everything, but she also taught me more than that professor did all semester and drove me so insane that I agreed to be her roommate just to be near her."

“Are you close enough now?” Drew breathed out and tangled her fingers into the hair that grew at his nape. 

“Not nearly,” he responded against her skin instantly like he had waited his whole life to be asked exactly that. 

“And now?” She asked. He leaned back never breaking away but wrapping his arm around her waist and allowing her closer as he kissed his way across her collar bone and she settled into his lap. “Steve,” she urged him for an answer. 

“It’ll never be enough,” he hummed. The fresh stubble on his jaw tickled her skin as his fingers worked beneath the fabric of her shirt and up her spine.

Drew shivered and Steve pulled her in closer, hands spreading warm and wide on her back. His lips were trailing up her neck and behind her ear, sucking gently. 

Steve pulled back and his eyes darkened as they zeroed in on the mark he left behind, his hands turning possessive on her skin, clutching her too him. 

“Steve,” Drew gasped, feeling his bulge grow between her legs. She hesitantly ground down, and Steve grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her in for a rough kiss. 

“Honeybee,” Steve groaned into Drew’s mouth, holding her hips tight as she wound her arms around his neck.

Drew moaned as their teeth clicked against each other. She felt lightheaded with passion. Steve's hands continued to explore her back as his hips bucked up against hers. 

She gasped - her panties were already wet, and she was getting impatient as she felt the growing bulge in Steve's pants. 

He pulled away abruptly and she whined at the loss of contact.

"Tell me what you want, Drew," he whispered in a sultry voice. "I've been talking an awful lot."

Drew stared at him for a moment. Her heart felt like it wanted to escape her chest as his fingers traced a line up and down her spine, tickling her skin. "I-" she stopped, the words on her tongue but stuck. 

"You can tell me no," He said cupping her cheek with his free hand, curling it into her hair. "We do this at your pace." 

She shook her head, "it's not that." Drew laughed softly pressing her forehead against his. "I want to, I want you" 

Steve sighed softly, "But?" 

"but I'm scared." She admitted softly.

Steve kissed the tip of her nose as he cradled her head in his hands. “What are you scared of?” He asked softly. “I hope, not me. I never want you to be scared of me.”

"No, no it's not you I'm scared of," Drew twisted her head and placed a soft kiss to Steve's wrist as his fingers played with the hair at the back of her neck, "I'm scared of what this means, of admitting what we want here, I just - you had another girl in your room today and I just got home from a date... why did it take these things to get us here? Why couldn't we be normal people and just - "

"Be honest?" Steve finished her question, with a soft smirk.

Letting out a breath she was unaware she was holding, Drew nodded and fiddled with the silver chain that sat around Steve's neck, "I just want to make sure we know what we're doing, and not just getting caught up in the moment,"

"Drewski," Steve started catching her brown eyes with his blue ones, his expression soft and caring as his fingertips traced circles into the skin of her back, "There's a reason I'm home every night, watching Love Island with you. Why none of the girls I've brought over ever stayed, and I think there's a reason why you came to sit on the couch with me after your bad dates instead of hiding in your room like you usually do when someone pisses you off." 

Her tongue flicked over her bottom lip and she nodded slowly with a small smirk, "It's you and me. It always has been. It just took too long for either of us to realize" she said softly.

Steve smiled at her, nodding, and pressed his lips to hers gently. “You and me Drew, always.” He pulled her closer on his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her chest. She could feel her heart beating under his ear, a little fast but steady. 

Drew kissed the top of Steve’s head, nuzzling her face into his hair. She realized after a moment that Steve wasn’t moving. 

“Are we…cuddling? Are you a cuddler, Rogers?” 

“Only for you, honeybee,” Steve murmured against her skin, sinking into the couch with her, pressing Drew further into his arms as he relaxed.

A warm feeling unfurled in her chest, her heart expanding with unknown but pleasant sensations coursing through her as Steve's larger body covered her own. His thick arms wrapping around her waist completely and his scent the only thing she could smell. It was the most comfort she'd felt in a long time.

Their chests rose and fell in sync as they breathed each other in. Drew didn't want to break this beautiful silence even though her mind was begging for more reassurance from him.

Steve raised his hand to brush the strand of hair out of her face at a slow pace, his calloused fingers traveling over her skin heating it in its wake. Like he was savoring every second with her, his blue eyes glittering like snow crystals on a cold winter morning. 

"Princess, we take this at whatever pace you feel comfortable with." He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, his lips warm and soft against her skin.

When he pulled back to meet her gaze she smiled tenderly, the soft thump of his heartbeat calming her nerves. 

“What’d I say about the princess, Rogers?” She breathed, a soft laugh escaping her lips at his apologetic grimace. 

“I’m ok, Steve. Really.” She paused, bringing her thumb to his lips, tracing them gently as she felt his heartbeat quicken. “I feel safe with you. I trust you.”

Steve kissed her thumb, staring into her eyes. His own heartbeat hammered in his chest as he drew her hand away so he could lean in and kiss her again. He couldn’t get enough of the sweet taste of her mouth.

His hands slid slowly down her sides, as if he were committing her curves to memory, and halted at her waist. When his fingers slipped under the hem of her tank top and tightened against her skin Drew moaned.

Crushing her chest against his, she deepened their kiss, tilting her head as their tongues entwined. Steve whimpered into her mouth when her thighs clamped around his hips and she raked her fingers through his messy blond hair.

Drew's hips started moving on their own, slowly grinding onto him as heat pooled low in her belly at the feel of his hardness underneath her most sensitive parts. 

The deliciously sinful groan that left him at the next grind of their hips together made her bite his lower lip and suck into her mouth. His hands roaming the skin of her back digging in slightly and pulling her flush against him.

"Faster, Drew." He panted into her mouth as her back bowed when his cock hit her clothed clit just right.

A desperate whimper left her lips as she increased the pace which elicited a string of deep moans and a few curses out of Steve.

"Fuck." 

Steve's hands traveled up her hips over the sheer lace of her bra, her nipples already peaked through the fabric, almost unbearably sensitive to his touch, like her body unknowingly yearned for him all this time.

Drew dropped her head to his shoulder, panting as she circled her hips. “I need to feel you…”

Steve dipped his thumbs beneath the neck of her top and into her bra, searching out her pebbled nipples and circling them in time to the movement of her hips against him.

“Honey bee,” he whispered lustily, kissing a hot trail across her jaw and down the column of her throat.

“Touch me, Steve…please…” Her voice was a breathy whisper and her hands clutched desperately to him.

Steve tilted his head back, the warmth of his hands leaving her skin as he instead tucked his thumb under her chin until he met her gaze. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Never been more sure of anything in my life, Steve. Now please fucking touch me.” 

Drew’s breath hitched on the last word as Steve moved his thumb to her bottom lip, tugging it down until her mouth naturally parted and he skimmed along the sensitive skin just inside. Eyes not leaving Steve’s, Drew flicked her tongue out over the tip of his thumb, sucking it into her mouth.

His eyes darkened and his lids were low on his cornflower eyes as she watched him trace the movement, breathing laboured and heavy. 

"Take off your pants, D." 

The low command sent a rush of heat down her spine and she scrambled to take her pajama pants off, lacking any grace as she stumbled out of them halfway across his lap while he bit his lip in amusement.

Drew settled back down straddling him, her damp pale blue panties doing little to cover her, but the way Steve's eyes narrowed in on them and his hands dug into the flesh of her ass told her she didn't need to cover herself from him.

Steve laid a trail of kisses along her neck, lowering himself slowly along her still clothed chest. Nose nudging each of her pebbled nipples, as her breath hitched in her throat. 

She lifted herself up on her elbows slightly, eyes finding Steve’s with quick breaths as he pressed a kiss to the soft skin of her belly where her top scrunched up. 

“Sweet talker,” Drew teased. 

“Only for you,” he winked, looking up at her. “And for the record, you're beautiful all the time. But this view is… perfect.” He mused as his hold tightened on her thigh.

Drew ran one hand down his arm, watching as goosebumps rose on his skin. “My view is pretty perfect too.”

Steve grinned before bending to kiss her stomach, his tongue dipping into her navel, making her gasp.

With a low chuckle, he trailed down over her abdomen, kissing, nipping, and sucking a tingling path across her skin.  When he bypassed the apex of her thighs Drew let out a needy whine. Steve raised his eyes to hers and gave a sly smile.

“You…” she growled in frustration, lifting her hips impatiently.

His large hand splayed across her stomach, pressing her down into the couch and preventing her from moving.

“Don’t tease me,” she pleaded desperately.

“But it’s such fun, honey bee,” he hummed, nipping at the sensitive skin of her thigh.

Drew huffed and Steve chuckled at her indignation, the gruffness of his laugh against her skin sending tingles straight to the depths of her belly. 

“Steeeeve,” she whined again, fingers tangling in his hair in an attempt to coax him closer to where she needed him most. 

“Okay, okay,” Steve conceded, lips curling into a devilish smirk as he sucked a bruise to her thigh and peppered the skin with soft, small kisses until his mouth landed warm and wet over the lace of her panties. 

The grip Drew had on Steve’s hair tightened and he groaned into her heat, tongue lapping lazily over the dampening fabric.

“Holy shit,” Drew moaned, her hips arching upward only to be pushed back down again by Steve. 

She lifted her head, wanting to watch him as he swirled his tongue over her clothed clit, making her mouth part in pleasure.

She needed him closer and she knew he was teasing her on purpose as he flattened his tongue and increased the pressure on her clit.

“Asshole,” she gasped in desperation, crossing her ankles across the muscular planes of his back as she tried to draw him closer.

“I know, I know,” he mocked huskily, “I’m such a jerk.” 

“Ste-“ she began but her words caught in her throat as he pulled the lace of her panties to one side and swept his tongue in a languid stripe through her bare folds.

“Oh— oh God,” Drew whimpered as Steve’s lips wrapped around her clit, sucking lightly between long swirls of his tongue. 

Heat pooled in her belly, and there were big, fluttering swoops of desire in her chest. Amongst the surprising sweetness and soft side of Steve, this is what she’d been fucking missing out on too?! 

“How’re you holdin’ up, baby?” Steve’s voice, a little rough and dripping from pink, swollen lips sounded from between her legs. 

“Don’t you dare stop, Steve.” 

Steve grinned, delighted and devilish before he winked and dipped his head again with a murmured, “yes, ma’am.”

Drew gripped Steve’s hair with both hands as she began to rock back and forth. She could feel him play with her, tease and delight her with every stroke of his tongue. 

“Fuck- oh!”

Steve growled, leaving one hand on her ass while the other slowly sank two fingers into her soaking heat.

She clenched around them, the new sensation sending thrills of pleasure up her spine as he dragged them in and out of her at an agonisingly slow pace.

Her heaving breaths were almost sobs when he replaced his lips with his thumb, working her clit in time with his fingers as he began to kiss his way back up her body.

He must have paid attention to every inch of her, nudging her tank top up with his nose and pressing his soft, wet lips against her sweat-damp skin until he reached her neck.

Raising himself up and yet never slowing his pace, Steve trailed his nose along her jaw before capturing her mouth in a salacious kiss.

Each drag of his tongue against hers, each catch of his teeth across the wet skin of her lips,  felt deliberate as if Steve had worked out the perfect formula to bring Drew right to the brink. 

Her whole body was alight with it, muscles tensing and heart racing as her climax coiled tighter and tighter in her belly. She was so close, sighing and whimpering into Steve’s mouth. 

“Let go, honey bee. Wanna hear all the pretty sounds you make,” he whispered, lips trailing along the length of her jaw and catching her earlobe gently between his teeth. “Come on, gorgeous girl, I got you.”

That was all Drew needed, the release washed over her like a tidal wave as Steve worked deep inside of her. His lips found hers in a needy, deep kiss while his hand braced her arching back and supported her as she rolled through the intense pleasure. 

He groaned as her grip on his hair tightened and everything rushed to her head, forcing her eyes to flutter as the euphoria of the orgasm overtook her. Steve pulled away from her gently, teeth grazing her bottom lip as she worked to catch her breath.

“Fuck, look at you,” Steve smiled, his blue eyes alight with pleasure and desire. “Coming so good for me…”

“I…I can’t…I…Jesus…” Drew gasped, a blissful grin blooming lazily across her face.

“Take it easy,” Steve rumbled, nuzzling his nose against her cheek as his hand came up to cup the other.

His thumb swiped away the beads of sweat from the bridge of her nose and he ghosted his lips across her skin as she tried to slow her breathing and calm her heaving chest.

Drew giggled softly and she used her grip on his hair to angle his lips over her own, their deep kisses becoming soft and sweet.

“You okay?” Steve whispered between kisses. His own skin glistened with a soft pink blush of exertion and Drew wanted to spend the rest of the night covering every inch of it with kisses, tracing each freckle and football scar. 

She hummed, nodding her answer into the crook of Steve’s neck before drawing back to meet his gaze, soft and adoring.

“What now?” 

“Now,” Steve replied softly, kissing her again as if he just couldn’t help himself, “now I’m hoping you’ll agree to be my favourite and only girl.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I know I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I’d be a real idiot to miss out on loving you, D.” Drew beamed, surging forward to kiss Steve again until he drew back suddenly. “Hey, you wanna come to my game next week. Wear my jersey?”

"That sounds like trouble, Steve Rogers." Drew smiled, her cheeks sore from doing it for so long. "

"It's a promise." He disagreed. 

A week later she stood in the stands, donning the jersey nervously, heart beating faster than it ever had before as Steve was crushed into the grass by a large defensemen. 

"Nice jersey," Bucky tugged on the hem as he slid into the stands behind her and kissed Nat on the cheek. 

"Just supporting a friend, Buck." Drew said without taking her eyes off the field. 

"You're late," she scolded under her breath. 

"I can't watch him play these big games, makes me sick to my stomach,"  he scowled and his strong hand squeezed Drew's shoulder in support.

“He’ll be fine,” Drew assured. Whether that was for Buck or herself, she didn’t know. She looked over at Bucky and smiled. “I’m sure of it.”

In truth, at the end of the third quarter they weren’t entirely safe and even Drew was chewing nervously at her bottom lip as she watched Steve pelt his way across the field.

She bounced on the balls of her feet and worried at the hem of her jersey.

“C’mon Steve!” She yelled every time his fingers touched the ball.

“What’s gotten into you?” Natasha hissed as the players lined up for the start of the final quarter.

“Nothing!” Drew insisted, craning her neck to catch the start of play and tuning out everything else.

God, it was close. As the minutes ticked down Drew, Bucky, and Natasha found themselves pressed against the rail at the edge of the field. They were screaming to high heaven, their arms flailing, as Steve scooped up the ball and launched it with a powerful throw towards Nick Fury, who took off with it down the field.

“Go, go, go!” Drew shrieked, which turned into squeals of victory as Fury landed the ball just before time was called. 

She found herself pulled from the mass of celebration and almost dragged over the rail as Steve wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in a victorious embrace.

His hungry lips claimed hers, unbothered by their audience, and their breathing grew heavier for an entirely different reason. They were so focused on each other that neither of them noticed the smug glances shared between their friends, or the money that slipped begrudgingly into palms.

“C’mon honey bee,” Steve grinned, hoisting her over the rail. “I want the team to meet my girl.”

[xenon-demon]

In a steddie doctor who AU neither of them are the doctor. ROBIN is the doctor and Steve is her long term companion who basically just lives in the TARDIS with her because he didn’t have a whole lot keeping him where he was originally from. They meet Eddie when they’re in Hawkins in the 80s investigating some strange events that scream of spacetime fuckery and Steve goes “can we keep him 🥺” and Robin says yes absolutely - after hitting Steve with the I Know What You Are eyes of course. Once it’s established he can come back without anyone missing him (cause yknow, time travel) Eddie is thrilled to come with them because oh my god??? Aliens are real??? TIME TRAVEL is real???? Eddie’s got enough self-authored Star Trek fanfiction hidden under his bed to not need to think twice about this decision, okay.

Cue adventures and shenanigans and Eddie having the classic companion dilemma of “I love travelling with you and also am kinda falling in love with Steve but I also have friends (the CC boys) and family (Wayne) I really care about waiting for me back in Hawkins that I can’t just abandon”. I’m thinking the solution to that is something along the lines of Steve settling down with Eddie and staying with him on Earth, either in his original time in Hawkins or somewhere/sometime else with Robin generously helping Wayne out so he can go with them.

Also Eddie demands they use time travel for the greatest possible good: allowing him to see all his favourite metal bands live in concert in their prime.

[suitelif3]

couldn’t get this Steddie idea out of my head, and tried writing it! this is my first ever fic/ficlet so I’m not sure how to feel about it, but I hope it came out semi good, also on ao3!

word count: 1.4k, no tw, hurt/comfort

Steve and Eddie making out and talk about feelings

**

Eddie was kissing Steve, lips wet, breathing hotly into his mouth. He could do this forever, just feeling Steve on him, around him. Steve was beautiful and looked so good. Downright sinful. His soft hair tousled, his smooth skin against Eddie’s. Steve was letting out little pants into Eddie’s mouth, his hands finding the crevices against Eddie’s hips and thighs. Eddie was thrumming under his skin feeling pure desire for the man.

He’s always looked so pretty, even when they were in high school together. He remembers staring at Steve from the other side of the cafeteria, wondering if he even noticed the freak. Now they were in bed together and Eddie had him all to himself. This was more than he had dreamed.

Eddie’s hands splayed across Steve’s sides, climbing higher into his hair where he tugged some strands at the back of Steve’s neck. Eddie was feeling hot all over, he could feel his blush spreading over his ears, and his body pushing up into Steve’s. Steve lowered his head to Eddie’s neck and started leaving open mouthed kisses. Eddie felt a blissful shiver travel through his body. He was so lost in the feeling of Steve, he almost didn’t register the question the boy had asked him.

“When did you know?” Steve had asked the question breathlessly, still tucked into Eddie’s neck.

“Huh?”

Eddie was so blissed out, he had no idea what Steve was talking about.

Steve laughed against his neck, making Eddie ticklish for a few seconds, before feeling turned on.

Steve pulled back to look at Eddie, “When did you know you loved me?”

Eddie laughed softly, “I don’t know, since high school?”

Steve paused. That didn’t seem to be the answer he was expecting since he tilted his face with his brows creased.

“You didn’t even know me.”

Eddie felt the tension shift and tried to salvage the conversation so they could go back to making out, with Steve’s mouth preferably on Eddie’s.

“Didn’t need to. I knew you were pretty.”

Steve jerks back even more. Not even within arm’s length anymore. Eddie was starting to feel very cold and bare, what just happened? He just wanted to pull Steve back in, and feel against every inch of his body.

“What do you mean?” Steve’s eyes were roaming Eddie’s face like he was searching for something, but Eddie didn’t have a clue of what he could be looking for or what answer Steve wanted to hear.

“What?” Eddie was so confused, he didn’t know where this was going, just that this was going downhill so fast.

“You just thought I was pretty?”

Eddie was confused by the question, didn’t Steve know he was always pretty?

“Well, yeah-”

“You didn’t need to know me? You just saw me and decided to love me because you liked what you saw? What about me? Do you even like me or were you just looking for the King to have for the night? Because I’m pretty and that’s all I’ll ever be? I’m not that person anymore, and I thought you knew that.” Steve was looking down at Eddie with a crestfallen look, and Eddie wanted nothing more than to wipe that off.

“Steve”. Eddie whispered.

Steve was glancing around the room, like he was searching for his clothes in order to make a quick escape. Eddie wanted to hold him down so he could explain, but Steve was starting to pull further away from him. Steve’s face was heartbreaking, and Eddie wanted him to know how much he really meant to him.

Eddie was starting to understand what was happening now. He didn’t mean to make Steve feel like Eddie didn’t love him. He just wanted to compliment him so he could feel his hands on his body again.

But he does love Steve, he loves everything he does. How he looks after the kids, who he is as a person, the way he cares so deeply, so loyally. How he looked after Eddie, how his hands fixed him up again, how his eyes shined when looking his way, how his heart seemed to have even some space for Eddie after everyone else.

Eddie looked up at Steve in disbelief. He reached out to feel some part of Steve, and gripped the tops of his arms so Steve couldn’t leave.

“Steve, I love you. I love who you are. I was just saying something stupid. I just used to see you all the time in high school and I always thought you were beautiful, but that’s not all you are. You’re Steve, you helped me through so much, you’re incredibly smart, you listen to my rambles, you take care of me, but more than that, I want to take care of you. You make me want to be better, to love you better. I want to be enough for you.”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s more than that, I just want to be seen to someone as more than just a pretty face. I feel like I’m a lot more, y’know?”

Steve had pushed away from Eddie, looking more closed off, like he was embarrassed he even thought Eddie only wanted the King, a piece of his old persona.

“No, I know, Stevie. I’m sorry I made you feel that way, but don’t feel sorry for having those feelings. I want us to be able to talk about it, and I want you to feel like you’re more than that to me because you are. You’re so much more than just a pretty face. I don’t want you just because of who you used to be, I want you because of who you are now. I just hope I can keep up with your past experiences.”

Eddie explained softly, sliding his arms down Steve’s to reach his hands. He held them tight and squeezed while trying to convey his thoughts. Eddie hadn’t meant to let slip that he was feeling a little insecure about Steve’s past experiences, that maybe he wouldn’t be enough. He didn’t want to throw it in Steve’s face or have him take it the wrong way, but he couldn’t help feeling that Steve might be disappointed in what Eddie could give him.

“Eds, you’re more than I ever wanted. You don’t even compare to anyone before because you actually care about me. I’m sorry I doubted that.”

“It’s okay Stevie, I forgive you. I would forgive you even more if you kissed me again though.” Eddie wiggled his eyebrows hoping to finally get his mouth on Steve’s again.

Steve giggled and shook his head while coming closer to Eddie, putting more pressure on top of him again. Eddie’s heart was full, and his cheeks were burning from the smile he was showing.

Eddie looped his arms around Steve’s neck and pulled him down so he was completely covering Eddie’s body. Steve’s hands were dipping under Eddie’s shirt, pulling Eddie as close as could while his arms encircled him. Eddie could feel the calluses on Steve’s fingers making him burn with want. Eddie pressed his lips on Steve’s and dipped his tongue to Steve’s bottom lip. Steve opened for him willingly, and Eddie wanted nothing more than to devour him.

Steve’s hands were exploring the dips of Eddie’s back and sides, while Eddie’s hands were buried in Steve’s hair. Eddie had his legs splayed open for Steve to have free reign of how close he wanted to be. Steve pressed up right against Eddie like a comforting heated blanket, and squeezed his hands around Eddie’s sides. Eddie fell pliant to Steve, and pushed his tongue deeper into his mouth. He nibbled on Steve’s bottom lip, and pulled it away.

Steve looked up with half lidded eyes and grabbed Eddie’s face, pulling him in once again. This time, Steve pushed his tongue through Eddie’s lips while Eddie breathed into his mouth. Steve’s lips were swollen from Eddie’s bites, making them feel even softer against Eddie’s. He reached under Steve’s shirt, and dragged his fingertips up Steve’s back. Steve groaned and pushed deeper against Eddie. Steve’s hand dipped lower to grip Eddie’s thigh, with his thumb rubbing softly against the inside. Eddie’s skin was tingling and he became overwhelmed with this feeling of contentment and want for Steve. He could stay like this for the rest of his life, and wouldn’t ask for anything more than the man currently on top of him.

**

This was my first try at writing something so I hope it was okay! Please let me know any thoughts or critiques!! <3