#stevie always gets him into shape

[didhewinkback]

the way his 1d harmony training comes right back to him the second stevie asks him to sing with her

[calumfmu]

tell me its a bit

"Steve, can I ask you something? What are we doing?"

He pulled away fully to look at you, brows knitted together in confusion as his eyes went back and forth between your eyes and mouth. "Uhh.. sex?"

He loved the cat and mouse game you had once started, not choosing to end it despite him being yours and you being his, despite titles given.

or; the extended version of Baby, No Attachment: Steve continues to reveal his true self to you.

cw: 18+, mdni, soft!Stevie, smut, teasing, spanking (brief), fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, wrap it up kids, cream pie, hair pulling, slight choking kink if you squint, yada yada yaddaaaa (2.8k+ words)

The Steve you had become so accustomed to had been different in the last few weeks since that car ride. Treating you with grace and kindness, he tended to your needs no matter what they were. It had taken some time getting used to, always feeling like he was lying about something despite giving you no reason to believe so. His act had shaped up, him treating you like the princess he had once called you, not hesitating to leap whenever you said jump.

He loved the cat and mouse game you had once started, not choosing to end it despite him being yours and you being his, despite titles given. Still sneaking into your bedroom window at all hours of the day, throwing rocks at the glass, throwing himself at you in the back of his BMW whenever he had the chance, no matter the welcoming arms your mom held for him (she was still his favorite). It made you feel like a young preteen again, the excitement of this romance pulling at your heartstrings in every possible good way there was.

The window was open, blowing in cold air as late winter made its final claim in Hawkins. Bedroom curtains were bunched up at the windowsill, caught up from where he had fallen through, shoes kicked off at the bottom. His jacket was thrown somewhere on the floor, half draped over the radio that softly played George Michael in the background. He had insisted on turning it on, whispering ‘We’re gonna get caught’ despite you urging ‘My mom loves you, shut up’. It didn’t stop him, silent moans filling the air as he touched you, your bodies so familiar with one another.

You were pressed into the mattress, both mouths slotted together as one of his hands snaked at your chest, slowly unbuttoning your top as he half-laid on you. His bulge ground into your thigh, small gasps escaping his mouth as you tugged at his hair.

Pulling away slightly, you mumbled into his mouth, “Steve, can—can I ask you something?”

He barely nodded, moving his weight over you to push you further into the bed. The hand at your chest moved to caress your hip, fingers splayed wide across the skin.

“What are we doing?”

He pulled away fully to look at you, brows knitted together in confusion as his eyes went back and forth between your eyes and mouth.

“Uhh… sex?” He laughed, leaning into you to return to his previous position. You stopped him with a touch to his chest. He looked even more confused than he did previously, shaking his head at you.

“No, Steve,” you sighed, slightly rolling your eyes at his comment. One thing you learned about him was that the boy loved playing dumb, especially when it came to actually discussing important things. “Like what are we?”

Realization crossed his face as his eyebrows shot up, an ‘O’ formed between his lips. The look went away as quickly as it appeared, a smirk given to you.

“You’re my girl, right?” He returned his mouth to yours, moving his hand lower to run across your inner thigh. Frustrated, you pushed him completely off of you, noticing the way he just looked so shocked at your fast movement.

He remained silent as you sat up, turning your body to look at him as he was laid on the bed, stuck in the position that he fell in. His hair tussled over his face, eyebrows raised and hands slightly up as he seemed to be awaiting your next move.

“Are you serious?” Your voice was raised, anger between your eyes as you looked down at him. He seemed small in the moment, a red blush crossing his cheeks.

“Do you not want to be?”

“No, Ste—” you cut yourself off with a sigh as you pinched your nose bridge, pulling your knees to your chest. You searched for the patience to deal with him, not understanding why he didn’t get it. “Steve. That’s not what I mean.”

“Well… what do you mean? I thought we were, like, together,” he asked, voice small compared to yours as he slowly sat up. He raised to lean on one hand, the other being placed on your knee, rubbing the skin.

You shot your eyes open to look at him, a loud cackle thrown at him that caused his face to fall. You felt bad to laugh at him, realizing that this ‘King Steve’ who had fallen from grace had so much to learn about girls, despite revolving his life around them.

“Together?” He pulled away from you, moving to sit at the end of the bed with his back turned to you. You saw him lean over on his knees, heard him clear his throat in discomfort. “Babe…”

He ignored the nickname as you moved to perch behind him, pulling him so his back was pressed to your chest, your head resting at his shoulder. Wrapping your arms around him, you felt him relax into the embrace, head tilting onto yours. With your legs on opposite sides of his hips, you leaned into him, the size difference between the two of you causing you to melt.

“Babe… we’re not together because… you never asked me,” you whispered, pressing kisses to his cheek in the pauses of your words. His head turned to look at you, shock the only emotion you could decipher.

“I never asked you?”

“No, dummy,” you giggled, pressing kisses to his cheek and jawline interchangeably. He fucking giggled at the touches of your lips on his skin, tilted his head to try to ‘avoid’ them, yet he made no other effort to move—you knew he loved it.

“Well, do you want to be my girl th—my girlfriend then?” He asked you, looking at you through long lashes, blinking slow as he became shy. You pressed your lips together, shaking your head, laughing as his mouth dropped open at you.

“No?” His voice raised a pitch, suddenly moving so you fell into his arms with a loud laugh. Steve pressed kisses to your nose this time, nuzzling his face into yours as he held you.

“That’s not going to cut it, Harrington.” His last name fell from your lips in a faux-mock, you haven’t muttered his last name since the two of you made amends, if you wanted to call it that—really it actually was just the two of you fucking for the first time in the back of his car. It felt foreign to you, cheesy nicknames shared behind closed doors and whiny drawls of each other's names replacing it.

He paused for a moment, face inches away from your own as he studied you. Drawing your eyes over his features, you took note of the moles dotting his face, constellations drawn in the beauty marks that you loved to trace your fingers over. Steve Harrington was a beauty, a wonder that you felt so grateful to have between your fingertips. Words couldn’t describe the feelings you had bubbling in your chest for him, he was everything and more you had thought him to be.

His breath hit your face with a flutter of your eyes closed, enjoying the bliss of being in his arms.

“You’re going to make me work for it, princess?” The nickname he used to call you had you shivering, arousal pooling between your thighs. His voice dropped an octave, a chill through your spine at the lowness.

“Mhmm,” you mumbled, digging your teeth into your bottom lip as he leaned into you, pressing a kiss to your mouth.

“I can do that,” he whispered back, deepening the kiss as he maneuvered the two of you to the previous position you held, you on your back, legs sprawled with him in between. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at it as he ground down into you.

“What else are you going to make me work for?”

One of his hands trailed down the length of your abdomen, fingertips dancing over your stomach before settling at your groin. Your legs widened without a second thought, hips arching onto the touch. He began to work a small circle over your clothed clit, the material dampening as your wetness deepened.

“Ah—” your voice cut off as you tried to respond to him, his fingers working magic as you began to fall apart.

“Not so much to say now, yeah?” He laughed at you, mouthing at your neck as a breathy sigh escaped you. As much as you hated to admit it, you loved this side of him, the cockiness that once was returning to your lover boy, dominating the situation as he made you melt.

“Shut it, Harrington.”

The only words you were able to mutter before he took over, filling up your senses with his body against yours. He was overwhelming, crowding your brain with thoughts of him, thoughts of his touch, his everything. His fingers began to creep lower, pushing your panties to the side as he ran a finger over your slit.

He leaned up to nip at your ear, teeth digging at the lobe of skin, your neck craning to the side as you exhaled in pleasure.

"Not quite sure I like that name anymore," he whispered against your skin, tongue darting out to lick at the skin beneath your ear. He exhaled against you, the coolness of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

"You-"

You couldn't speak as he began to tease you, finger inching into you slightly, just for him to remove it, reaching up to toy with your clit ever-so-slightly.

"I?" He dragged out the letter, leaning back to smirk down at you as he questioned what you were going to say. Irritation crossed your features as you took him in between hooded eyes, lids fluttering shut as he took his teasing to a new level.

His hand left your underwear, grasping your hand between his as he grinded against you. His clothed crotch rubbed between your legs, an exasperated sigh leaving you.

"Steve."

Your tone was firm this time, chastising him as he pushed your leg up with his own. Your free hand reached down to grab at the top of his jeans, fingertips dancing over the button there.

"Yes, princess?" His breath grew a little more shallow, his head dipping to watch your fingers slowly unbutton his jeans, the zip sliding down audibly in the room. His bulge poked out of his jeans, boxers tenting towards you.

"Cut the act."

With a nod, it was over—his mouth was pressed into yours, and his hands were pushing down his jeans, boxers following suit. His cock sprang free of its restraint, beat red and dripping with arousal. In the heat of the moment, you were flipped over, ass sticking straight into the air with your underwear pulled down mid thigh.

It was just enough freedom of the two of your sexes to make ends meet, the head of his cock nudging between your legs, pressing at your entrance. He had his fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back as he entered you in a swift motion, pressing to the hilt.

The two of you groaned in unison, hips flush to one another with Steve taking a break to breath, his head pushed towards the ceiling.

"Fuck, you're so—"

He cut himself off, a hard smack filling the air as his hand made contact with the plump skin of your ass. You pushed your hips back at the assault to your ass, groaning as he pressed even deeper.

"You're going to fucking kill me, princess."

He began to thrust into you, hips rutting into your own. It was quick, thrusts relentless and brutal as he fucked into you. Your hands tried gripping at the sheets around you, failing as the movements had you faltering, body rocking in unison with his own.

His name left your mouth in high pitched whines, eyes fluttering shut with the pleasure that overcame your senses.

"Ste-Steve, fuc-"

You could barely get a word out as he continued rutting into you, his hand gripping your hair tightly, the other running over the skin of your back, reaching down to rub at your lower back, rearing back to smack down into your cheek. The loud sounds of your sex and the smacking of his hand filled the room, becoming louder with each thrust.

You tried shushing him, worried that the sounds would be able to be heard from downstairs. The last thing you needed was your mom coming up the stairs, opening the door to find her sweet daughter in this compromising position.

He leaned over you, pressing your hips into the mattress as he continued fucking into you, grinding his hips in small motions. The atmosphere of the room changed, love filling the air as his hand left your hair, reaching around and down under to grip at your neck. Your neck craned back as he pulled you into him, back to chest.

Steve's breath was hot in your ear, small grunts leaving him.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked, tone of his voice gruff with arousal.

You attempted to nod, eyes squeezing shut and sweat prickling at your hairline from the heat of the moment. He reached down underneath you to rub at your clit, the bundle of nerves growing more sensitive as the two of you were brought closer to completion.

"Making me work for it—you're such a tease, princess."

The nickname had you whimpering, memories of your prior relationship flooding back. That first night spent together filling your mind, overcoming the small amount of senses that you had left.

A high pitched uhh left you, breath caught in your throat as his grip tightened, hips grinding down into you even further. He couldn't get any deeper, reaching that spot inside of you that was only reserved for him.

"'S not enough, Harrington."

You were insistent on teasing him, eyebrows knitted together, eyes squeezed shut. He quickened his pace, pulling out almost completely just to thrust back into you.

His fingers at your clit sped up, he sensed how close you were solely on how your body tensed up.

"Come on, princess. I know y—"

His hand covered your mouth as you came, drowning out the loud whine that escaped you. He knew your body so well, knew exactly when to stop torturing your clit, when to slow his thrusts so you wouldn't become overwhelmed. Steve's own pleasurable end reached him, a low groan suppressed by pressing his face between your shoulder blades as he came deep inside you.

"Ah, fuck, princess, I lov-"

He cut himself off, another moan escaping him as he bottomed out before pulling out, collapsing on the bed next to you. You took a few moments in silence, catching your breath before turning to face him, blinking slow as you took him in.

Fingers reaching to you, he pulled you closer to him, pulling up the blanket that was pushed to your feet in the same motion. It was so domestic, this moment, your favorite side of Steve making an appearance that was slowly becoming the main event of your relationship.

He lay beside you, leaning on one elbow and hip, his fingers running over the expanse of your skin. You were starstruck in his beauty, the way his hair fell over his eyes, the slight glimmer of sweat sticking to his skin, moles dotting his body even in places the sun couldn't reach. And he was all yours, even if he was being stubborn, being Steve about it.

"You know I loved you the entire time?" He suddenly said, low in tone as he stared you down. Eyes leaving his body, you looked into his deep brown, shock evident on your face.

"I-you what?"

It was the first time these words left his mouth. You knew how you felt, but it was shocking to hear it from him.

"Since the day I saw you, I loved you. Love you," he confirmed, finger running up his body to run against your breastbone. He hovered over your heart, mimicking the shape of one over the skin.

"So... you were being an asshole just for fun?" You teased, turning on your side to lean into his space. Being in his proximity brought you a comfort that should have scared you, but definitely didn't.

He smirked at you, wiggling his eyebrows as he recalled the memories of your early relationship.

"How else was I supposed to make you fall for me?"

Your mouth dropped open in faux shock, your hand reaching up to slap at his chest. A guffaw left him as he grimaced at the red mark forming.

Rubbing at the spot, he whined your name. "Well it worked, didn't it?"

You rolled your eyes playfully, pretending to turn up your face at him. Turning on your side away from him, you closed your eyes, ushering sleep.

"You're such an asshole, Harrington."

You felt his arm snake around you, pulling you into his chest, both of your naked bodies pressed against each other. Instantly, you melted in his arms, your own hand coming up to grip at him.

"I love you too, princess."

Ah jeez, here it is. I love this pairing so much, I never want to part ways with them. part three.

Masterlist. <3

[appocalipse]

heyy if ur taking requests could u maybe do like bestfriends steve + reader where steve, eddie, nancy and robin have to pick up reader from a party and she’s like REAL drunk and just idk super clingy w steve and doesn’t wanna not be touching him. maybe eddie, nancy and robin all make fun of him for it but they acc find it rly cute.

thank you for your request! ♥♥♥ | 2.2k words

"Stevie!"

You collide into him suddenly, nearly knocking him back a step or two with the force of your momentum; there's a smile on Steve's face when you look up at him through eyes that are more than a little hazy with inebriation. You're drunk. Probably way past drunk, if the way the world won't seem to hold still is anything to go by, but you don't care. There are other things vying for your attention—like how warm he feels against you, how safe he makes you feel, how pretty he looks from up close...

"Whoa," Steve says as you lean even further into him and loop your arms around his waist in a tight hug. "How much did you have to drink, exactly?"

He doesn't mean it in a mean way, which is why you grin up at him from where you've got your cheek pressed firmly to his chest. You can feel his heart beating under the palm of your hand now, a steady and calming rhythm that soothes something inside of you.

"Dunno," you reply, grinning stupidly when you catch sight of maybe three copies of Eddie Munson standing off to Steve's left; all of them have identical amused looks on their faces. "Might've had, like, a couple..."

Steve sighs deeply, though there's no exasperation or disappointment to be found in his expression when he tilts your face upwards to look you over properly. You just beam dopily at him, because he's so pretty right now you don't know what else to do.

"Dude," Eddie speaks up, drawing Steve's gaze away from you while your own attention goes back to pressing yourself even more snugly into him, "she is totally sloshed."

You frown, shaking your head in fervent disagreement.

"Am not!"

"Sure you aren't, sweetheart," Eddie agrees placidly, but you get the impression he doesn't really mean it.

Before you can point this out, however, the blurry shape of Robin Buckley steps forward. The room is dark with flashing strobe lights and smoky with incense and cigarette smoke, but you'd recognize her voice anywhere.

"Who let you drink this much?" Robin asks as she lifts a hand up to brush some hair back from your forehead.

It's oddly soothing and so you lean into the contact with a happy hum. Robin and the others laugh — but then again, it sounds kinder than mean, the kind of laugh that bubbles up when you find something unexpectedly endearing, and so you don't mind as much as you maybe should.

"Nobody," you mumble as you press your face into the side of Steve's neck and take a deep breath in; his scent is the same as always, earthy and warm with an underlying hint of that stupid spray he likes to use sometimes. "I'm here alone. 'Cause Steve here blew me off for you guys, but that's okay," you say, even though, to be fair, it sort of isn't true — he didn't blow you off.

"Hey," Steve starts, sounding half-indignant and half-apologetic all at once. He's got an arm around your shoulder now, supporting you and keeping you upright, which makes you want to tangle yourself up in him completely. "You didn't tell me you wanted me to come hang out with you tonight!"

You sigh mournfully against his skin, feeling wistful all of a sudden. It's true. You hadn't told him. That was partially due to the fact that you had been trying to prove to yourself that you weren't so desperately and helplessly infatuated with him that you needed his presence constantly, but that plan had obviously backfired on you spectacularly.

"No," you mutter unhappily as Steve moves the two of you towards a nearby couch. "But I missed you. Don't wanna miss you."

Nancy, Robin, and Eddie, who are watching the two of you with expressions of varying degrees of amusement, exchange looks. Steve pretends not to notice, probably because he knows he won't like what they have to say if he hears it, and instead guides you down onto the cushions next to him. "You're drunk."

"You're pretty," you reply without hesitation, even though you're very clearly changing the subject. "It's unfair, y'know?"

You hear Robin snort, followed by a quiet thud like someone's just been slapped on the arm, and you know it's her who laughed, and that it must have been Nancy who'd shut her up. You don't know where Eddie is; you're not even sure when he wandered off, to be honest. You're too focused on Steve and the way his face looks under the colorful flashing lights.

"Oh yeah?" he asks, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too widely at your comment. His eyes are bright with laughter when you meet his gaze and nod confidently. "How do I get 'unfair', exactly?"

"'S all in the face," you say matter-of-factly, your own fingers trailing down his cheek in an almost absentminded gesture. "Kinda makes it hard to think about anything else sometimes, if I'm being real here. Like, it's not really fair, 'cause then what are we supposed to talk about? Oh, oh—and then there's your hair!"

"My hair?"

Robin wheezes somewhere behind you, which would have made you giggle if you were still paying attention to the people in the room besides Steve, but you're not.

"Mmhmm," you hum, your eyes running over the soft brown locks on top of his head. "Love it. Wanna touch it all the time. Y'see, Steve? You see? This is why it's not fair at all. And, and—" you trail off here for dramatic effect, squinting at him theatrically before leaning closer with your hand cupped to the side of your mouth, as if you're about to share something private. "—the way you make my insides feel? So, so unfair. Totally your fault, buddy."

"Wha-" Steve croaks out, looking alarmed and caught off guard by your drunken confession. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh," you regain your serious tone, frowning at him in a somewhat bemused manner when he continues to gape at you. "Not 'sposed to tell you. S'not the rules."

Eddie barks out a laugh somewhere off to your left, but Steve ignores him. "Rules?"

"Yeah, 's against the rules, dummy," you say, like he should've already known that. "Gotta follow the rules! Duh. Steve."

"Yeah, Steve, duh," Robin pipes up, earning herself a glare from Steve as well as a smirk from Eddie. "Oops, sorry. Please, continue."

"Can I touch your hair? Like, please, 'cause I might die if I don't, 'kay? If that's okay. Gotta test the theory. Just a little bit, though." You can tell by his expression that he wants to laugh, and that he's also mildly worried that you've lost your mind. "Please?"

Robin, Eddie and Nancy have their hands clapped over their mouths to contain their laughter. You're too drunk to notice, but Steve narrows his eyes at them in warning. "Yes," he says. "Just—yeah, go ahead."

With a little noise of excitement, you reach out to card your fingers through his hair. He smells really good — like clean laundry and fresh pine trees — and the feel of his hair in your palm is exactly what you had imagined, though you're loathe to pull your hand away now that you've felt it.

Steve goes unnaturally still as you press your face into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, a move he should have expected but didn't, and you sigh happily when the scent of his cologne hits you full force. He's like a living, breathing, cuddly teddy bear, you think, a combination of warmth, softness, and comfort all rolled up in one gorgeous, handsome, unobtainable package.

"You're warm," you mumble, feeling like you could fall asleep right now. "So, so warm. 'S like you've got a space heater in your chest, 'n that's like, so awesome."

He blinks a few times, momentarily speechless as he tries to come to terms with the fact that you are, in fact, drunk enough to be saying whatever the hell comes to your mind. "Uh, thanks?"

"Smell nice too," you murmur, hugging him tighter to you. "Like, wow. Love your hair, like, love love."

His cheeks are burning hot now, his heart beating erratically in his chest when he notices Eddie staring at the two of you with a knowing gleam in his eye. "That's—thank you, but, hey, come on now," Steve says, his voice faltering a little. "Let's get you home, okay?"

"I don't wanna."

"Don't you wanna sleep in your bed?"

You pause, considering his words, and eventually concede that, yes, your bed does sound lovely right about now, so you give him a brief nod in response. "I guess, but can you come too?"

He chokes on air, but manages to play it off by clearing his throat. "What—to your bed? No!"

"Why not?"

Steve shifts a little under your intense, alcohol-addled scrutiny; he feels strangely guilty, as though he's letting you down by saying no. "Because you're drunk?" he says, feeling flustered and unreasonably nervous all of a sudden.

You scrunch up your face in a pout. "Oh, that's a dumb reason."

Steve chuckles and you sigh happily again, because you love his laugh and everything else about him, and he seems to realize this, given the way his expression softens. "Come on, you drunkard. Let's go home," he says gently, tugging on your arm in an attempt to get you to stand.

You resist at first, shaking your head stubbornly as you hold onto him. "Can't. My legs don't work anymore. They're all wobbly."

Steve closes his eyes for a moment, huffs out a soft laugh, and you can't help but grin up at him. He's so pretty that, like, how is that even allowed? How can you be around him and not spontaneously combust or something?

"Well, what if I carried you?"

"Like a princess?"

Steve looks at you with an expression you can't decipher — it's halfway between incredulous and endeared, and it makes your heart feel too big for your rib cage.

"How romantic," Nancy observes.

"So long as she doesn't throw up on him," Eddie adds, nodding sagely in agreement.

"Oh, I hope she does," Robin says, with a devious smile, "he'd deserve it for being such a coward."

"I'm...right here, guys, and I can still hear you." Steve finally says, throwing them a scathing look that only makes them laugh. "If you're not going to be helpful, you can wait in the car."

"As if," Eddie counters.

Steve opens his mouth to tell him where exactly he can stick his opinions, when you grab the front of his shirt and drag him closer.

"Steve," you say, the smile falling from your face as a sudden thought occurs to you. "Are you mad at me? Because I can go home by myself. That's okay."

"Hey, no," he replies softly, "I'm not mad at you, sweetheart. Not ever."

"'Sweetheart'? Really?" Eddie mutters to Nancy, who elbows him in the ribs when he doesn't lower his voice in time. "Ow, okay, okay—just saying. Don't want them to keep dancing around each other forever, is all."

"I'm not dancing," you tell him, completely unaware of Eddie's snickering, "I don't have any shoes on, Eddie. Wouldn't be able to dance without shoes on. Silly."

"My bad," Eddie says, his lips twitching with badly concealed laughter, "forgive me."

Steve scowls at him before turning his attention back to you, his face so close to yours that you can momentarily feel the tickle of his breath against your skin. "Okay, come on," he says, "up we go."

And then, in one swift movement, he slides his arm under your knees and scoops you up into his arms. You let out a squeak of surprise and automatically wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself.

"Oh, oh, oh," you say excitedly, "you really are gonna carry me."

"Told you so." Steve adjusts his grip on you and makes his way towards the exit. "Are you good? Am I hurting you?"

You shake your head slowly, grinning as you stare at him from a whole new angle. "No," you tell him, feeling much more awake than you were moments before. "This is...this is like, actually kinda cool."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you repeat, smiling shyly back at him. "Feel like a real life Cinderella now. Whoa, you're, like, super strong."

"Yeah, Stevie, you're 'super strong.'" Eddie teases, waggling his eyebrows when Steve sends him a quick glare. "Aw, don't look at me like that. It's cute. The two of you."

Nancy doesn't tease like Robin and Eddie do. She walks behind Steve, making sure to stay a couple steps behind to give the two of you some privacy. Even so, when you look over your shoulder to make sure nobody's listening, she gives you a wink and a small thumbs-up that makes you smile.

The parking lot is filled with teenagers all wandering aimlessly in groups, so it takes Steve a while to navigate his way through the crowd. By the time he finds the spot where he parked his BMW, you've grown drowsy enough to rest your head on his shoulder.

Eddie immediately pops open the door to the backseat, slapping it a few times as he looks over at Steve and grins. "Hurry it up, lover boy," he drawls out, "she looks half-asleep already."

"She's fine," Steve shoots back, frowning in annoyance when Eddie and Robin both pretend to yawn exaggeratedly, "shut up. I hate you guys."

[stevebabey]

part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")

So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.

Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.

Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.

So, it’s an Eddie thing.

But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.

Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.

Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.

And this thing with Eddie… is not that.

So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.

(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)

And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve notices though. He always notices.

It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.

It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.

Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.

But he can’t fucking tell.

-

To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.

Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.

Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.

Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.

It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.

So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.

Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.

But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.

A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.

After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.

But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.

It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.

So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.

It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…

Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.

And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.

Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.

Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.

It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.

“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”

He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”

Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.

“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”

Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.

Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.

“Mm?”

“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.

But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.

Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.

“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—

Unless…?

“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!

“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.

“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.

“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.

Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.

Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.

Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.

Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.

“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.

“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”

There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.

“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.

“Do you want to try again?”

Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.

Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”

‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.

It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.

And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.

“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.

“Can I... have a hickie?”

now with a part three !

[t0yac1d]

OKAY, GREAT. SOOOOOOJRNDNEJE LIKE JEALOUS EDDIE? (I've been on a jealous binge lately 😭) you and steve have been getting close recently and he's been flirting with you.. (GASP! but you're dating Eddie 😦.) And you always roll your eyes at it pushing him away from you while you laugh not thinking much of it. but then eddie overhears steve talking about you in a"The things I would do to her man, to bad Eddie got her before me." and he's like had enough so smutty time!!! and he js marks you up and everything for stevie to seeee.

Always Forver (E.Munson x F!Reader)

Warnings: smut, jealous sex, marking, biting, praise, hair pulling

Word Count: 1,305

Notes: I'm gonna be completely honest, idk how to really write Eddie's character so please pray that I don't fuck this up! I'm also deeply sorry for the extremely long delay, I haven't been motivated to write much, AND I don't remember the names of Steve's friends from season 1 so I chose random names.

Notes (2x): I'm back from hiatus! I've been working hard these past couple of months but I am back now! Also, I will be posting a story soon AAAHHHH I'll be sure to post info of it here and where you can read it if you're interested!

You've never thought anything of it, the way Steve treated you; how he touched you, spoke to you, cared for you. You thought he was just being the good friend that he is. You never paid any attention to the words he said to you, his flirtatious nature is almost natural to him and a part of who he is, so you thought he was just being himself. You'd brush off his words and lightly push him away with a chuckle each time.

"Babe, I just don't like the way he openly flirts you. He knows we're dating; he just doesn't care." Eddie sulked as he watched you take a shot.

The two of you were attending a party; a party your good ol' friend Steve was throwing.

You caressed his face and wrapped one of his curls around your finger, "It's nothing, he's like that to everyone. His words have no weight." You then gave him a smile and kissed his cheek before walking off. You walked past Steve and gave him little wave before meeting up with Nancy and Robin.

Eddie let out a little huff and shrugged the weary feeling off. He trusts you, and if you say that Steve's words mean absolutely nothing, then they mean absolutely nothing.

He walked to the fridge, grabbing another beer when he overheard something he wish he didn't.

"Did you see how her ass just looked in that skirt?" James asked, eyes trained on the shape of your ass in your baby pink skirt. "The things I'd do just to get a taste." Nick sighed.

"What about you, Steve? You're pretty close to her, you never wanted to get between her legs?" he continued, focus now on Steve.

"Trust me, I have. Still do." he answered. Steve sighed and slowly shook his head, "The things I'd do to her, man. Too bad Munson got her before I could."

Eddie got tense at the words that spilled out from their lips. Those disgusting words that were all targeted at you. He closed the fridge door and made his way to you. He took your hand in his and led you to the bathroom.

"Uh-"

You couldn't get a word out before his lips were on yours and your back against the door. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close. You don't know what had gotten into him, but you weren't complaining.

Eddie pulled away and moved you to the sink, he made you face the mirror pushed you against the porcelain. He grabbed and groped your ass, sighing to himself, "Hate to say it, but he was right. Your ass looks amazing in this skirt."

"Who- Who said that?" you asked, "Doesn't matter." he grunted. You were lost in the thought of someone other than your boyfriend would say that about you. But now you have an idea as to why he's acting the way he is.

He lifted the back of your skirt up and rubbed your lower back, "Now, be good girl and be as loud as possible."

"What-"

With one, harsh thrust his cock was in you and you were bent over, your face practically touching the mirror. Eddie's thrusts were rough and hard. You tried to be quiet, not wanting to draw any attention to the bathroom and not wanting people to hear the noises you'd make for this man.

Eddie pulled and tugged at your hair, pulling you close to him, "Make some noise." he grunted. His voice was husky, and his scent intoxicating. You wanted to moan, to scream but you also didn't want any attention from anyone outside. But it was starting to get difficult to not make any noise.

You whimpered and whined whenever you felt the tip of his cock brush against your cervix. "Louder baby," he sighed, the feeling of your pussy tightening around his cock sent shivers throughout his body. "Just let it out, don't think about anyone else but the two of us."

Broken moans fell from your lips as you gripped the porcelain sink and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You pushed all of your worries to the side and listened to Eddie's words.

He grabbed your jaw and forced you to look in the mirror, "Good job princess, such a good girl," he smiled, locking eyes with you. "Such a pretty girl."

Eddie's eyes moved down to your neck and shoulder, which were exposed by the top you were wearing. A lightbulb switched on in his head and he slowly moved his mouth towards the most exposed spots.

He licked, nipped and kissed at your neck, testing the waters before even daring to bite into your beautiful skin. "Do it," you breathed. Eddie looked up and his eyes locked with yours again, "Do it, I want you to."

That was all he needed in order to continue.

He sunk his teeth in your soft skin, earning a hiss and moan from you in return.

Eddie left bite marks and hickeys all over your neck, and down your collarbone.

He hasn't done it before, but this just unlocked a whole new world for him that he will continue to do.

Eddie grabbed and groped your tits as he felt him dick twitch, he was so close to cumming and he can tell you were too. The way your moans went up an octave or two, the way you gripped the edge of the sink, the way your pretty eyes rolled back, the way your mouth fell open.

Eddie's hands made their way under your shirt and bra, he pinched and played with your nipples, the sensation sending goosebumps throughout your body and to your core.

You were so close, and you just wanted to cum.

You just wanted to cum for him and show him you're his good girl.

"E-Eddie..." you stuttered, "Hm?" he hummed, his pace getting faster and his hands gripping at your tits. "I'm so close, please," you didn't know what you were begging for; he was giving you everything you wanted.

Eddie brought one of his hands down and between your legs, he played with your clit, stimulating it.

You moaned and moaned; you were sure someone out there could hear you over the music. The bathroom smelled like sex, pure and raw sex.

You came and creamed all over Eddie's cock, you were sensitive to every movement right now. Eddie came inside of you, painting your walls white with his nut. When he slowly pulled his cock out of you, his nut was dripping out of you.

It was definitely a sight he loved to see. He used his fingers push the cum back inside of you and he pulled your panties back up.

"Try not to let anymore drip out of you, 'kay?" he asked, smiling.

You gave him a nod and he kissed the top of your head, forehead, nose, cheeks, lips and hands. He can't do much aftercare here, but that doesn't mean he won't show his love after fucking you.

Eddie took your hand and lead you out of the bathroom and back to the party. "You can go back to what you were doing my love."

You chuckled at his actions and walked back to Nancy and Robin; walking by Steve on your way to them.

You couldn't see it, but Eddie could.

Steve's face changed from, admiration and lust to surprise and disgust.

Surprise: He didn't think you were the type to be into that.

Disgust: It was Eddie's lips that were on you.

He scoffed and his eyes trailed down your body and to your ass. That's when he saw something dripping down your thigh.

If he wasn't as disgusted before, he's definitely disgusted now.

Guess he never had a chance after all.

[morganbritton132]

I love how Steve refuses to do Red carpet events with Eddie but will go to big Hollywood parties. Keg King Steve lives on

Look, no one has ever asked for his opinion at a party and then published it in a magazine as a ‘scathing review from friend of Eddie Munson’s.’ It’s not his fault that the movie was not as funny as he thought it was going to be.

Plus, all those flashing lights.

Every time Eddie gets papped, there’s always a picture of Steve where he’s mid-blink or he looks sweaty, and Steve is never going to forgive Eddie for the photo of him goosing him on the carpet. The one (and only) time Steve walked the red carpet with Eddie as his date, Perez Hilton had a lot of mean things to say about the shape of his head and his bisexuality.

But on the other hand, Steve loves a good party.

Steve might not be interested in being a part of most of the celebrity parts of Eddie’s life but he does like celebrities. He has a whole photo album of pictures taken with celebrities. And Steve likes when Eddie gets to do fun things with his fame. No one tells you when your boyfriend runs off with his band that a lot of the famous-people stuff that he has to deal with fucking sucks.

Plus, the only people partying harder than famous people are teenagers in a small town. Steve has experience and he excels at this.

Even if the hangovers are awful.

Eddie posts a TikTok the morning after there are paparazzi photos of him and Steve leaving a party of him, Steve, and half of Ice Nine Kills getting breakfast in the restaurant of their hotel. He pans the camera across the table but settles on Steve next to him with his head down on his arms.

He’s not just hungover. He is ‘are you sure he’s even alive’ hungover. Enough that one of the guys asks, “Is he okay?”

“Uh-huh,” Eddie says with a grin in his voice. “Baby, you got any advice for the kiddos out there?”

“Don’t get hit in the head a lot.”

“Oh-ho, no, Stevie,” Eddie laughs. “This is not a hero babysitter Steve Harrington migraine. This is a Keg King Steve hangover.”

Steve looks up, “There was a keg?”  

[hungharrington]

Steve thought! I’ve thinking about steve lazily fucking you in spooning position 😇

yeah this has crossed my mind maybe several thousand times so hope u wanted some sweet sweet LOVIN anon cos that’s what i’ve GOT for u !! MDNI this entire blog is 18+, gn!reader, ooey-gooey loving, that’s all enjoy <3 this one goes out to @boyfriendstevie

Some mornings with Steve are just pure warmth. Sleepy cuddles, neither of you that awake, but still reaching out to one other. Love intertwines both of you easily, warming you as much as the pillowy duvet and when you kiss his skin, it’s with your eyes closed. You could find him in the dark.

Other mornings, there’s this sweet alluring lust that intermingles with the love. You love it — how you and Steve always seem to be on the same wavelength, how you both seem to know.

This morning, you know from when the first moments of consciousness trickle in. His lips scrape along the nape of your neck, pressing a soft kiss there. You can feel the shape of him up against you, his hairy chest scratching lightly at your shoulder blades, the two of you cuddled close together.

“Good mornin’.” Steve murmurs against your skin, his voice low and gravelly with sleep. You smile, eyes still closed and let yourself bask in the warmth as his hand sneaks over your waist.

“Mm, it is a good morning,” You says as you shimmy back into him, your ass pressing into his crotch purposefully. You hum, pleased when his hand on your middle tightens in response. You feel his lips against your skin quirk into a smile.

“Oh, is it that kind of morning?” He asks knowingly.

You cover his hand with your own and guide it, beginning to push the waist band of your pyjama shorts down an inch. You grin, eyes still closed as you hear his breath catch.

“I don’t know…” You tease. “Is it that kind of morning?”

Steve’s hand finishes what you started, pushing the fabric down your thighs until you’re wiggling to kick them down yourself, lost beneath the covers.

You finally peek your eyes open, just to close them again in a sigh when Steve soothes his hand up your thigh. He sweeps it back down and this time when he drags it up, his fingers slide eagerly closer to your inner thigh.

“Do you need…”

“Mmhm,” You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished his question. You twist to peer over your shoulder, relishing in the sight of his mussed hair and chocolate eyes. “Was already dreamin’ bout it, Stevie.”

It’s worth craning your neck to see the arousal flutter over his face as Steve groans, tucking his head against your neck. Head flopping back against the pillow, you can feel him shuffle behind you, his heat leaving you for a brief moment, to shed his sweatpants— and when it returns, your stomach blazes hotly at the skin-to-skin contact.

Another kiss to the back of your neck. Steve hums against your skin as his hand travels up, skimming your hip and trailing up your chest. His thumb brushes your peaking nipple and you gasp appreciatively as he pinches it, pairing his rubbing with sweet words. “Baby, my baby, so good f’me.”

You keen softly and your hips rock backwards. Steve gets the hint— another kiss on your neck, then your shoulder as he moves to touch your hip, drifting down to hold your thigh. He urges your legs apart.

The pillow crinkles as you push your face into it, capturing your sweet sigh as he eases himself into you, slow and gentle. It burns deliciously, his hard and achingly hot cock stretching you out just the way you like it. A dozen more kisses melt along your shoulders, like little lightning bolts, as he pushes in further, his breathing a little heavier. He stills to give you a moment.

You breathe in, feeling your tummy boil up with desire before eagerness takes over and you push back against him. Steve moans softly, his breath stuttering as he bottoms out inside you. You moan, clenching around him.

His hand slides off your thigh to wrap back around your middle, properly spooning you as he cuddles in closer. Your hand moves to clutch his, lust spiking as he starts to move, deep, lazy thrusts that force sweet little noises out your mouth that mix with Steve’s low moans.

“Fuck,” Steve curses breathily. He’s moving slow, rocking in and out, but it’s enough to have both of you unravelling into each other. Slick, wet sounds fill the bedroom. His kisses get a little sloppier, messy marks of love all up your neck. He squeezes your tummy. “Fuck, honey, y’feel so good, baby.”

You moan, your hips rolling back with a mind of their own, meeting him in the middle. It’s a perfect haze of lust and warmth and love and you shiver in his arms, already feeling the coil in the pit of your belly. It won’t take much for either of you this morning, you can tell.

“You feel so good,” You whisper back, words tainted with a moan. “You, fuck, Steve— ngh, you’re so deep, fucking me so good,”

Something close to a growl scrapes out Steve’s throat and he grapples you closer, his thrusts speeding up a fraction —but still deep and lazy, enough to make you want to squirm beneath him. You keen back into him, back arching to get the angle just right and Steve’s hand slithers out from under yours, reaching up to toy with your nipples again. You gasp loudly and Steve whines a little at your obvious arousal.

“Can I—” He starts, voice choppy from his pants. His cock is achingly hard inside you and when you clench down on him, you adore the twitch and resounding whimper it draws out of him. “Can you kiss me?”

Your heart burns for him and you don’t waste a single second to twist around, capturing his hungry lips with your own. Steve groans into the kiss, his fingers flexing on your skin. Heat flushes your body as the kiss breaks and his forehead presses to your own, his hazel eyes gazing into yours as he fucks into you. You moan brokenly, pleasure screwing the coil in your tummy tighter. It feels good, so fucking good, Steve always makes you feel fucking good.

“Steve,” you whine.

“Yeah,” He rasps back, voice all whimpery now. “Yeah, I know, baby. Me too— shit, me too.”

You want to stay like this, spread open on his cock while he holds you. While he takes and gives, kisses and moans and wraps the both of you in the warmth of the morning. You pant into his mouth and lean forward to kiss him again.

Steve hums and this time, when the kiss breaks, he nudges your head back forwards— his hips still for a moment as he rolls you both forward onto the mattress so you’re facedown.

“S’okay?” He checks, even though you can feel him still pulsing inside you. You nod, breathe jagged and try to raise your hips to signal him further. Steve needs no more invitation.

He settles down on you, his chest pressed against your back once against but this time when his thrusts start up again, you’re pushed downwards as he fucks you into the mattress. His arms bracket your body and one shifts, scooping around your torso to lift your hips higher. You cry out, the angle perfect as he finally picks up the pace, drilling into you, slick gathering at your thighs.

“Steve, ah! Steve, fuck, feels so..” Your words dribble off, muffled by the pillow as you bury your face in it. Heat flashes through you, fuelled by Steve’s whiny moans, all his fucked out rambles.

“F-Fucking love it when you moan my name,” He praises, barely speak coherently through his whispering panting. “So fucking good f’me, taking— ngh- shit, fuck, taking me so well.”

You wail, burning hot want crawling up your stomach so suddenly that you don’t even get a moment of warning before the heat explodes and your orgasm breaks— you cry out his name and clench down, hard, cumming on his cock.

Steve tucks his face in your shoulder and whimpers at the feeling, fucking the snugness fast and hard. It takes only a couple more thrusts til he feels himself fall apart with a strangled moan, burying his cock deep inside you. He milks it, fucking you gently both through the waves of pleasure, until tiredness saps his energy. He slumps, resting atop you for just a moment. You’ve never felt more safe, squished beneath him and filled completely.

He kisses behind your ear, then nuzzles it with his nose. Faintly, you think about how no one has ever kissed you there ever before — just Steve and the sun.

“I love you.” He says, nearly a whisper. Words just for you.

There’s not an ounce of a lie in your words when you cheekily say, voice still out of breath, “Hm, I think I love you more.”

[eddiesghxst]

best friend! steve x best friend! reader and steve is talking ab how he didnt get laid on his date and reader is like “i can do it”

LMAOO poor stevie, i’ll take one for the team i guess🤭

18+ — MINORS DNI

contains: oral (m recieving), p in v (unprotected - don't be stupid), and steve's big d!ck

word count: 1.9k

(this is def not proofread srry)

————

Steve has been ranting for ten minutes straight.

You’re laid on his bed, head resting at the foot of the mattress and legs sprawled out to where the soles of your feet just barely brush against Steve’s thigh. You had originally come over to watch a movie, but you got dragged to his room, and ever since you sat down on his bed, Steve’s mouth has been running, complaining about his current dry spell.

“I mean really, I don’t mean to toot my own horn here, but I don’t remember it ever being this hard to get fucking laid,” He complains as you quietly entertain yourself with imaginative shapes in the ceiling. “I’m dying, man, it’s ridiculous.”

And you’re tired of hearing your best friend complain about his lack of pussy, you want some popcorn and you want to watch the movie. So, before you can fully register your thoughts, you’re already spitting out a suggestion, “I can help.”

Steve glances at you, watching as your folded hands rest against your steadily rising stomach, “We’ve already tried that, your advice doesn’t work.” He points out. You roll your eyes, craning your neck to look at him as you flex your foot and press against the side of his thigh, ignoring when he bats you away, “No dummy. I mean I can help you.“ 

You lay your head back down, wriggling your feet as if you hadn’t just suggested you fuck each other and Steve is… well Steve’s not sure what to say.

You sit up to lean on your elbows and glance at Steve, raising an eyebrow, “You didn’t die did you?” You joke. Steve shakes his head as you shuffle to your knees and begin crawling over, “No I… I’m just…” He swallows heavily when your hand rests against his thigh, fingers gently squeezing as you lean into his space.

“A-are you sure?” He asks. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t, Stevie.” You confirm, gently batting your eyes at him as a sickeningly sweet smile spreads across your lips.

Steve curses, gaze flickering to your pretty lips before surging forward to press his lips against yours. It’s not the first time you and Steve have kissed, there've been a handful of drunk nights where you shared a few harmless pecks here and there, but nothing of this manner.

It’s never been passionate enough to have Steve pulling you by the hips to drag you onto his lap or good enough to have you moaning as you stuff your fingers into his brown hair. Your knuckles curl into the roots and Steve moans, leaning forward into the kiss until you’re giggling against him, sneaking a hand between the two of you to palm at his crotch. “You’re already hard, Steve.” You point out.

“Did you think I was lying when I said I’ve been living like a repressed nun?” 

You laugh, “No I just… I thought I’d have to work for it a bit, I guess.” You shrug as your fingertips curl around the hem of his shirt, pulling upwards and removing the thin material from his frame.

You’ve seen Steve shirtless many times from countless summers spent at the pool and countless nights sleeping over. You’re well aware that Steve is gorgeous, and you’ve always wanted to do more than just admire, and now that you’ve got the chance, you don’t waste a second to run your hands over his chest. Your fingers curl against the patch of hair covering his chest as you kiss him again, grinding against his bulge and moaning.

Steve’s big hands are on your waist, eagerly squeezing before making his way down your back. He’s hesitant as his hands round over the fat of your ass, but you grind back against his touch as a way of encouragement. His fingertips dig into your ass before he moves his hands lower to slip up under the tiny shorts you have on, groaning at the sensation of your warm skin against his hands.

“Fuck, Steve, that’s really hot.” You breathe against his lips. “Yeah?” He hums, pushing your ass down to grind you against his dick. “Yeah… I wanna taste you.”

Steve’s cock throbs at your words and he mumbles a curse before nodding, pulling away from you to hastily shove his sweats down as you shuffle to settle between his legs. You quickly remove your shirt, giving Steve an eyeful of your tits sitting prettily in your bra. He palms himself over the thin material of his boxers as you shuffle closer, situating yourself between his spread thighs.

Your fingers brush against his when you reach out to dip your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, eagerly tugging them down to release him. Steve moans as you pull the boxers down, stiff cock slapping against his tummy once it’s freed from the thin cotton material. 

“Holy shit, Steve,” you whisper, eyes wide and lips parted as you gaze down at his cock, hard and already leaking with excitement. You glance up at him before looking back at his dick, “I guess the King Steve rumors were true…” You mumble, ignoring Steve’s breathless laugh as you drag a finger up the length of his cock. Steve’s breathing is slowly rising as he silently watches you touch him, circling your fingertip around his aching tip to smear the sticky precum around.

You giggle when he visibly twitches from your touch, “Excited?” You tease. “Fuck you,” Steve breathes, moaning when you finally wrap a hand around him.

You smile, watching as his face twists in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut as you begin to stroke him. He slowly thrusts up into your hand, working to meet your strokes in tandem as breathy moans tumble from his lips. You watch in awe as he melts into the pleasure, “God, you really are pent up, Stevie.” You point out, gently pulling Steve’s attention to open his eyes and watch as you wriggle to lay down on your stomach.

You pause your stroking to spit into your palm before resuming the task, humming at the sinful shlicking sound of his wet cock in your hand. You admire the sight in front of you; Steve’s thighs, hairy and toned, bracketing you in with his cock standing tall, firm, and achingly flushed before you. Your gaze drags up the expanse of his heaving chest to fall upon his flushed face. His lust-blown eyes excitedly watch as you lean forward to drag your wet tongue up the underside of his cock, lewdly humming at the taste as you wrap your lips around his tip.

“Oh fuck,” he pants, head falling back against his headboard as his eyes squeeze shut. “I can’t believe this is fucking happening.” He breathlessly mumbles, tuning back in to watch as you pull him out with a crude pop, smacking your lips open to stick out your tongue and slap his sticky tip against it a few times before swallowing him once again.

Steve is big, filling and stretching your mouth so much to where you can already tell there will be an ache in your jaw afterward, but you don’t care. What you can’t fit into your mouth, you make do by simultaneously stroking with the rhythm of your movements.

It doesn’t take long before Steve’s hands are in your hair, softly tugging as he moans out, “I’m gonna cum.”

You pull off of him with a wet gasp, strings of spit and cum sticking to your lips and falling to cool against Steve’s wet hips. You languidly stroke his throbbing cock as you shuffle up onto your knees, a swollen smile bracing your lips as Steve pants beneath you, gazing up at you on hunger.

He nods down to your waist, “Take them off.” 

You waste no time following his orders, wiggling out of your shorts and tossing them somewhere in the room. Steve leans forward to kiss you, hands sneaking behind you to unclip your bra and shuck it off with the rest of your clothes. You’re only left in your panties when Steve pushes you back to lay against his pillows, legs falling open to welcome Steve as he leans over you for a sloppy kiss.

He palms your tits with one hand as the other strokes his cock, mumbling against your lips, “Gonna let me fuck you?” 

He presses himself against your clothed center, both of your moaning at the sensation as he rubs against your covered clit. You eagerly nod in response, fingers tugging at his curly hair as he reaches down to pull your panties aside. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet,” He whispers to himself before running his thumb over your aching clit. You pathetically moan and squirm against him as his name falls from your lips. 

He kisses you again, thrusting his hips forward to run his cock through your wet folds. He slaps his dick against your pussy a few times until you’re mewling in pleasure and agony, “Please, Steve. I didn’t tease you.” You whine.

Steve chuckles, “I know… you’re right, I’m just being mean.” He says. He holds himself up with one hand beside your head as he pulls away just enough to glance down between your bodies, brown curls falling over his face as he watches himself drag his tip through your folds once more before lining up at your entrance. He pushes in achingly slow, looking back up to watch as your face is masked with a look of pleasure.

Your thighs shake as he bottoms out, and Steve groans above you when your wet walls clench and swallow him whole, “O-oh my god, Steve… holy shit, you’re so fucking big.” You breathlessly moan.

You’re already pulsing around him when he begins thrusting into you, sloppy wet slapping noises filling out the space around you as each thrust pulls moans from both of you. You’re not sure you’ll last long, the feeling of being so stretched out and filled with your best friend's cock has your head spinning until you’re nothing but a moaning mess.

You think you lose sense of time as Steve fucks you because you only come back to earth when you’re teetering on the edge and hear Steve’s gravely voice in your ear, “You’re so good to me,” he pants, “Such a good friend, letting me fuck this tight little pussy of yours.” 

You whimper, nails digging into his arms as the band in your tummy begins to snap, a long string of moans and curses pouring from your chest as you cum. “Fuck yes holy shit I’m gonna cum.” Steve moans.

Before you know it, Steve is pulling out of you and spurting thick ropes of cum against your tummy and pussy, cursing and moaning as he jacks himself off the rest of the way. You’re breathless and hazy as you watch him, squirming at the sensation of his warm cum on your skin and his hot fingertips digging into your thigh.

Steve is panting as he looks down at you, taking in the sight of the white sticky release glistening against your pussy, some of it seeping into the thin material of your panties. He breathlessly chuckles, glancing up at you as join in and ask what he’s laughing about.

Steve shakes his head in disbelief and lets out a short laugh, “We should’ve done that a long time ago.”

[oatmilk-vampire]

Birthday Blues

Read part 2 here.

Steve hates his birthday.

He knows he may not be the only one who gets "birthday blues" but he feels like it's a lot deeper than just the blues.

When he got closer with Eddie and learned of his own shitty upbringing, he thought it'd be a bonding moment for them. Eddie has to hate his birthday too, right?

Wrong.

Despite Eddie’s mom dying when he was only six, and Eddie’s dad being a deadbeat, leaving Eddie on his own before Uncle Wayne took him in, Eddie loved his birthday.

The Munsons may not have been rich but Wayne always did his best to provide Eddie with new(er) clothes, or dice, or guitar picks. A new album or poster for his bedroom walls. Maybe even his favorite food at the diner--something they didn't do often as they usually survived on box cereal and spaghetti-Os.

And when Al Munson finally rolled into town conveniently around his only child's birthday, well he'd give the sort of shitty, low-commitment gift only a father could give.

And Eddie looked forward to it all the same. One or two shitty presents in six years is better than none when it comes to his father. He'd take what he could get.

So, when Eddie's birthday comes and goes and Steve gets invited to his and Wayne's get together with the kids, and then a later party with the members of Corroded Coffin--well of course Steve goes. And he showers Eddie with love and meaningful but still kinda pricey presents, because he can. And he wants to. Despite the merciless teasing he endures. The look on Eddie's face makes Steve feel like he's the one that got the greatest gift of all.

This, of course, all falls apart when Eddie points out Steve's own birthday must be coming up, and he's right. And because he has no tact he announces in front of everyone who realizes in horror that they've gone years of knowing Steve and celebrating his birthday exactly zero times.

Steve's equally horrified now because now everyone is tripping over their feet desperately trying to make it up to him with cakes and ice cream and movies and handmade cards and weird action figures Eddie probably would have liked better.

It's only after Steve gracelessly accepts all of their gift-giving, and fends off at least three panic attacks and two migraines that he has to put on his bitch voice and scream that the only thing he wants for his birthday is to be left alone.

And like usual, the kids do not listen.

Until Eddie steps in. He makes them go, Robin too, even if she is pissed about it. But they go when Eddie assures them that Steve probably just feels a little overwhelmed right now and needs some space.

He's close to leaving too, knowing he may have made a mistake and should probably get out of his hair... But then Steve starts crying and Eddie has to stay.

It's not loud or ugly, just these little, tiny pitiful things like Steve is trying his damnest to not cry. Like the act of tears falling would kill him.

Eddie cautiously slides next to his shaking form on the couch, careful not to jostle him too much.

He bites his lip as he experiments with placing a hand on Steve's shoulder.

Steve tenses under his touch until Eddie speaks,

"Stevie, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. None of us did."

His parents were hardly around. Never gave him practical toys he wanted, just whatever they thought a boy should have to shape him into a "proper young man", if they thought he needed toys at all. No parties. Ever. He briefly wanted to throw ragers when he realized he was old enough and his parents wouldn't be home, they never were, but those made him feel even worse so he got used to spending the day like any other. All alone in a big, empty house. Not a home.

Eddie continues to rub soothing circles into Steve's back as he lets it all out, explaining his woes as best he can through a sore throat and runny nose. Eventually he pulls Steve into a proper hug-turned-cuddle until his breathing steadies and he isn't shaking anymore.

"I'm sorry." Eddie holds his breath, hoping it doesn’t trigger another panic attack.

"No--don’t be. Thank you."

"For what? Making you cry?"

"For caring enough to bring it up, even if it was a lot. But mostly for being here, after. Just..."

Steve didn't have to finish his sentence. Eddie knew what he was trying to say.

Thank you for staying. Thank you for holding me. Thank you for loving me.

"Always, Stevie. I'll always be here for you."

Steve squeezes him, and Eddie squeezes back once, twice.

He doesn't say it, but Steve understands.

Happy Birthday... I love you.

[luveline]

i am in love with the way you write kbd!steve and would love to see more of him being enamoured w reader and the way she is with the girls if you’re up to it😩🥺🤍 love you all smooches for you 😙😙

kisses before dinner ♡ mom!reader

Steve watches through the slice of open doorway. You do it all in relative silence, a moment's peace between you and the second oldest, Bethie sitting prim as a doll on the countertop you've put her on as you clean her face with a damp hand towel. You take the stain of her peanut butter and apple slices off of her lips in gentle strokes, drying her off with the other end of the towel. Your hands (like Beth's hands, the same fingers and the same shaped nails) are sweet as you trace your pinkies from her temples to her chin in unison.  

“There,” you say finally, “perfect again.”

“Thanks mommy.” 

You lean down for a kiss, which you get, but Beth wraps her arms around you before you can think about escaping, whispering something Steve can't hear. 

“I love you too,” you say a touch louder. “You okay?” 

“I'm okay.” 

“You're happy?” 

“Yeah, mom, I'm happy! I'm amazing.” 

“Amazing?” you ask, your fondness for her filling every syllable. “You are amazing, that's true.” You peel back to smile at her, turning into her touch and obscuring Steve's view. He hears the soft smack of another kiss, almost jealous, until Avery comes to attention where she's laid up at his side to ask why he's holding a sock. 

“It's your sister’s,” he says. 

“Which one?” She giggles. “I have too many.” 

“What? You do not, you have the perfect amount of them.” 

Avery's shoulders shake next to his arm as she laughs at his mock-outrage. She kicks her leg over his thigh and he squeezes on instinct, sock and all in hand. 

You and Beth make your return to the living room hand in swinging hand. Beth's polka dot pyjamas are trailing behind her on the floor and her hair is a little wild, but her face is pristine, and her smile is even better. 

“You look happy,” you and Steve say at the same time. You to Avery, and Steve to Beth. 

The girls laugh. Dove, playing with blocks that don't fit together by Steve's feet, looks up suspiciously at the commotion. “What?” she asks. 

You laugh more, “Just me and daddy sharing a brain,” you say, wiggling your fingers at her. 

“Yucky.” 

“Mm,” you agree, collapsing on the couch next to Steve's open side. Beth climbs into your lap and he'd think you hadn't noticed if it weren't for your arm wrapping immediately around her. You've been great at this whole mom business since the very first baby, not because you're a natural, but because you always tried so hard to be as loving as you could be. 

When Steve met you, he fell in love with you for a multitude of reasons. You were interesting, beautiful, with a penchant for taking care of people and falling asleep in the sunshine. He'd come calling and find you knocked out in sunbathers or elbow deep in washing up. You wanna help make dinner?

“You're looking at me funny,” you say. For a few moments, Steve had been looking at the version of you he met almost ten years ago. 

“Am not.” 

“Are too. You were looking through me. Now you're doing fake googly eyes.” 

“They're not fake,” he says, indignified. “They're so real. Look how real they are.” 

“Don't give yourself an aneurysm, I believe you.” 

“What's an aneurysm?” Beth asks. 

Avery nods agreeably with her sister's line of questioning, eyes flicking between you and Steve in wait of the answer. 

“It's a bad joke,” Steve says dismissively. 

“Ouch.” You lay down against his shoulder. It's not an especially romantic nor affectionate touch, but it doesn't have to be. His skin thrums with your nearness every time. “So mean to me, Stevie.” 

“Did you always call daddy Stevie?” Avery asks. 

You rub your cheek against his sleeve. “What do you mean?” 

“‘Cos, like, his name is Steve.” 

“His name is dad,” Beth says. 

“Daddy!” Dove says. 

Steve gestures for the littlest to come forward and sit with them. She climbs up with help onto his knee and gives him a hug, but no sooner has she sat than she's climbing back down. “No, mom didn't always call me Stevie. She used to call me Harrington, or H when she was feeling nice.” 

“And plain Steve,” you say. 

“Yeh, but why Stevie?” Avery asks. 

“Well, why Avey-bear? Dovey?” you point out gently. “It's nice. Like you wanna keep saying someone's name, even after it's done.” 

It's why Bethie’s called Bethie, and not Bethany, Bethan, or Beth. Her legal name is Bethie, and that ‘ie’ at the end, while having been a name Steve adored, is a little tribute to love. Your love for him. 

He forgets sometimes, but now he's remembered he might start crying. Dad hormones, he decides. Having kids makes you more emotional for sure. It's definitely not because you're amazing, and lovely, and everything he ever wanted day in, day out, every second of every hour— 

“I just love him,” you say, kissing the top of Steve's arm. “Same way I love you guys. He's my family, he has been since we met.” 

Bethie’s lips curve just like yours when she smiles, and Avery has hints of you in hers, too. “That's nice, mom,” Avery says. “I'm glad you met him.” 

“Yeah, me too!” you say, a breathless cheer as you throw your arms around Steve and Dove's soft tummy to hug him tightly. “I wouldn't have him or my pretty girls if I didn't.” 

Beth worms her way into the hug and Steve gets an arm around Avery's shoulders to include her, not sure who's forehead to kiss first. You reach over his lap to rub Avery's arm softly and he decides you should probably get the first one, on account of being the world's biggest, sweetest sweetheart. 

[stevesbipanic]

@steddiemas Day 22: Santa Shenanigans

Steve was going to kill Robin.

Well, not really because he doesn't think he'd survive more than a couple days without her. But he'd certainly be giving her the stink eye next shift for suggesting a secret Santa between the older ones of the party.

"We just rog it so that I get Vickie and she'll fall madly in love with me, it's a perfect plan Steve!"

To her credit it was an ok plan.

"Last week you spent an hour bemoaning the fact that she smiled at a boy."

"But yesterday she spent two hours studying with me in the library!"

Steve rolled his eyes at her shenanigans but agreed nonetheless. They drew names the next time they had all gone out for burgers at the diner. Steve tried not to make it obvious when he saw who his name was. Eddie.

Steve wasn't disappointed, no, far from it, he'd been hiding a crush on the older boy for a few months now, let's just say Eddie spent a lot of time by Steve's pool last summer. But now he felt the pressure to get him the perfect gift. The plan hadn't even worked for Robin.

"I got Argyle! Now how will I win her heart."

"Could always plant some mistletoe."

"You're a genius! Who'd you get."

"It's Secret Santa, Rob's, it's meant to be secret."

"Boo you're no fun, bet it's me."

It took Steve weeks to finish his gift for Eddie and Steve found himself hastily wrapping it the morning of their little Christmas party, grateful that Robin had thought of the plan well in advance otherwise he'd have never finished.

Steve greeted everyone and watched as they placed their secret Santa gifts under the tree. They ate, laughed and picked a Christmas movie to watch after presents. One by one they opened their gifts.

Nancy got Vickie some water colour paints.

Argyle got Jonathan rolls of fresh film.

Jonathan got Nancy some new notepads with larger covers.

Robin got Argyle a big bright tie dye shirt with Groovy printed on the front, he quickly put it over the sweater he was already wearing.

Vickie turned to Robin and Steve quickly saw her cheeks start to redden. She passed her the gift and Robin unwrapped a bag full of pins and badges.

"I've been collecting them for a few weeks for you from around town and around where I went to visit my grandma, thought your work vest needed some more fun ones."

Robin grinned widely at Vickie, the effort making a big impact on her. Steve knew he'd be hearing about it for weeks but he hoped the mistletoe in the kitchen sped things along.

Steve was about to give Eddie his gift when he realised that this meant Eddie also got him for Secret Santa. He turned to the metalhead to find him already shyly holding out a gift.

"It's not much but I hope you like it, Stevie."

Steve unwrapped the small package to find a collection of mixtapes inside, Eddie's handwriting clearly scribbled on the side.

"I started making a mixtape of songs that made me think of you but U ran out of room on the first one and might've gotten carried away," he said shyly scratching his neck.

Steve glanced over the names of the songs and it was clear that the majority of them certainly wouldn't remind someone of their dear platonic friend. Steve smiled softly at him and passed him his gift.

"I think I know what you mean."

Eddie slightly confused at the statement unwrapped the gift, his mouth forming a small o looking inside. He took out the book, a worn copy of The Hobbit that Steve had thrifted as soon as he knew Eddie was his secret Santa.

"Stevie, you know I've got this one, it's my favourite," he said slightly awkwardly.

"Look inside."

Eddie slowly opened the book to see small dribbles of ink between the words. The handwriting clearly Steve's. As he flicked through he saw Steve's thoughts spilling into almost every page.

"It's your favourite and you're always wanting me to read it so I did, I thought it'd be fun if you saw exactly what I thought of it."

Eddie's eyes caught on one of the words near the end, a small red shape next to them, yeah, he thinks he and Steve are on the same page, but he'd wait until the end, no spoilers early after all.

"I love it, Stevie, thank you."

As Steve sat curled up next to Eddie on the couch watching the film he too had the same thought, definitely on the same page.

Ao3

[nburkhardt]

Mainly for my love, @strangersteddierthings ily

An overly sappy and fluffy follow up to this angst piece

“-Christ, I’m coming!”

It’s- Jesus Christ, only eight in the morning on a goddamn Saturday and someone decided to call him now? He roughly picks the phone up, “whoever the fuck this is, you better have a goddamn good reason to be calling!”

“Well, I’m sorry. It’s even earlier for me, nerd” Robin’s voice comes through, and now he’s confused.

If anyone should still be asleep, it should be her. Since she’s ya know, in California, in a different timezone. It’s- “why the fuck are you awake at five? Aren’t you on vacation?”

He can hear the eye roll Robin does, but it’s only fair. She woke him up, she gets to deal with a little bit of bitchy Eddie.

“I am, doesn’t matter. What are your plans again for Christmas?”

Tilting his head, squinting his eyes, he blinks hard before rubbing a hand down his face. “Buckley. You did not fucking just ask me what my plans are. The hell? You’re not even here! Why?”

Robin groans, obnoxious and long. Then a huff, and after that he hears tapping and he can imagine she’s bumping the phone against her head and straighten up with a glare on her face. He gets the look a lot from her to see it clearly.

“Edward Munson. I need to know what your Christmas plans are for very good reasons. Actually, what are you doing for that whole weekend? I need a favor and you’re going to do it, because it’s very very important. So important that if you do not do this and I find out, you will be a dead man and wish the demobats were after you.” She takes a deep breath, “do you understand?”

It must be, if she’s bringing up violence this early.

“Okay, geez I’ll bite. My plans for Christmas is just hanging around with Wayne, we usually just hang around watching Christmas movies and eat together. I got nothing planned the weekend, all of ya and my band are busy with family and shit.” He leaned against the fridge, closing his eyes and hoping whatever Robin is thinking doesn’t involve much.

“You need to kidnap Steve.”

He opened his eyes quick to widen them, straightening up and looking around for his keys. “Can I keep him then?”

Robin groans and he smiles, “if I’m kidnapping Stevie, I get to keep him. Finders keepers, Buck!”

“If you can only promise to love him and care for him.”

“Always, Robin. My Honeylove deserves it and so much more, he doesn’t even know how much,” he sighs, “I’ve agreed, now can you explain why?”

He’s met with silence and he looks at the phone wondering weather it’s not working or Robin hung up; already satisfied with him agreeing. Which would be fucking rude of her.

As he brings the phone back, he hears her sigh and- “i know my platonic soulmate and he doesn’t think I’ve noticed him being withdrawn or sad. He’s determined to make me go grey by suffering in silence, and he doesn’t believe how much I care or how much you care. So, he’s alone, like right now.” She sniffles and he can imagine she’s gripping her hair while also leaning up against whatever wall or surface, “SO, I would appreciate you for the rest of my life, if you help me and make him very, so very happy. Please.”

Taking a step out of his van, Eddie shifts his weight as he looks at the single flower he managed to pluck from his neighbors bush, it’s probably cheesy and maybe a little much but he couldn’t help himself.

Picking it up, he quickly slams his door before marching his way to Steve’s front door and stands straight. Taking a breath before moving his arm behind his back, knocking on the door with the other.

It’s been a few days since Robin’s call and his plan couldn’t take any shape until this morning. Wayne had noticed he was off the rest of that day and a complete word-for-word retelling happened and he ended with Wayne telling him, “Jesus kid, ya didn’t need to ask. That boy of yours is welcomed here”

And that was that.

He holds his fist up again as the door swings open and he’s met with an adorable sight, Steve wearing his glasses a little askew and his favorite yellow sweater along with some plaid sweats.

“Eddie?”

Smiling, Eddie pulls the flower out and brings it in front of their faces. Twirling the flower around before lightly bumping it on Steve’s nose, “My dear, Stevie Honeylove Harrington, I am here on this lovely December twenty third to officially kidnap you.” He watched as Steve pulls the door open more looking even more confused, it makes him smile at him.

“Eds, what the hell? Please don’t tell me you’re high right now?”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie shakes his head. “I am very sober, and come on, get things together. You’re coming home with me”

They move into the kitchen and Steve looked at him before shaking his head.

“Can my kidnapper explain one more time, because he deserves to know why he’s being kidnapped- two days before Christmas” Steve asks and grabs the flower from him, putting it in a cup before leaning up against the counter to look at him.

He doesn’t bother sitting anywhere, instead comes right up to Steve and tapping his temple. “Because, my heart, you selfless dummy. You will be spending the rest of this holiday, with me and Wayne.”

Steve’s eyes widen, before darting around to avoid looking at him. It pulls a frown on Eddie’s face and he steps back just a bit, just to let Steve avoid his gaze more. He knows when it’s necessary to give more space, especially this lovely boy.

“I don’t want to impose on you both, I’m fine here. My parents called and said they’ll be her-”

“Nuh uh. Nope, I will not accept that. Even if they were coming, I’d still be kidnapping you, sweet boy.” He interrupts, crossing his arms and glances around the room before settling his eyes back on the important thing, Steve.

Steve who is still looking anywhere but at him, his own arms crossed but looking much more like he’s hugging himself, his fingers drumming along his arm.

“Sweetheart, Steve, I would truly and utterly love if you come along with me to your first official Munson Christmas.”

A smile pulling at his lips, as the words process in Steve’s head. A light blush is slowly creeping up. It makes his own cheeks start to burn, his own blush coming up from seeing Steve looking soft and confused.

Eddie moves closer to him again, arms no longer crossed and instead coming up around Steve. Enjoying how he instantly shifts to wrap his arms around Eddie, it makes his heart happy.

“Yeah okay, Teddy. I’ll go”

It’s the smell of bacon that makes him stir and the light sound of Christmas music playing.

Steve blinks a few times to get the sleep out of his eyes, his vision getting as clear as they can without his glasses. Along with that his other senses also kicks up and he can feel the weight of an arm around his waist and legs tangled with his.

He shifts just enough to see Eddie behind him, face still relaxed as he lightly snores. Clearly still asleep. It’s only then that he relaxes back down and looking away with a blush and tiny smile.

For once happy to wake up on Christmas morning in years.

“Merry Christmas, Love” Eddie’s arm tightens around his waist as he spoke, pulling him closer.

His face completely breaking out into a smile now. “Yeah?”

Eddie hums and squeezes his waist again, “yeah course, it’s Christmas”

Steve shakes his head, “no, well, yeah it’s Christmas but um, the love thing.” He squeezes his eyes shut and mentally counts to five before turning around to face Eddie, “are you serious? Because I’m, um, starting to think that you’re-”

There’s a smile tugging on Eddie’s lips and he moves his arms to settle back snug around Steve, “In love with you? Yeah, Honeylove. I am, I love you Steve and I would be the happiest man alive if you let me keep you”

Steve’s eyes are watering as he nods and breaks into a breathless laugh, the words bouncing around in his head over and over.

“Yeah, yeah. Please. I love you too”

It brings a bright smile to Eddie’s face that Steve matches, Eddie presses a kiss to his forehead and promises that they’ll share their first kiss once they lose the morning breath and Steve holds him to it.

They’ll get up, brush their teeth and share a soft kiss before walking out to see Wayne busy finishing off some pancakes. They’ll wish him a merry Christmas, enjoy their breakfast together before settling in the living room to watch Christmas movies and unwrap the presents under the tree.

There’s not much; only a few gifts for each of them.

Steve doesn’t even pay much attention to his, he’s really truly happy because his favorite present is currently sitting on the floor in a Santa hat obnoxiously shaking a gift next to his head with a big smile on his face.

It’s the best Christmas he’s had in a long time.

One of my all time favorite tropes is “they’re not dating” and guess what, they weren’t dating at all in this until Christmas 🥰 Eddie was very obviously in love with Steve from the start though, Steve was just a little slow on catching the very point-blank flirting :D

Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed this sappy piece and it made up for the angst I put you through in the first part. ☺️

Those who also asked/commented: @goodolefashionedloverboi @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @vampirestevie @steviesummer

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[adverbally]

Lovers Forever, Face to Face

Written for the @steddiesmuttyseptember prompt “lingerie” | wc: 1,851 | rated: E | cw: none | tags: Eddie in lingerie, body insecurity, mirror sex, body worship, dirty talk, buttplug, anal sex | title from “Leather and Lace” by Stevie Nicks and Don Henley

———

Eddie curses himself and scowls at his reflection. Why had he thought this was a good idea?

He turns away but twists his upper body back, trying to see his ass in the mirror. Still flat, he notes, just covered in a layer of dark fabric that looks terrible on him. The panties, stark against his skin, make him look more pale than he actually is. Sickly, even. Fragile.

It doesn’t seem fair. Steve looks so good in lingerie. He’s got a certain softness to him that’s enhanced by satin and lace— the curves of his pecs cradled by a bralette, his ass and cock barely contained by skimpy underwear, sometimes even a pair of stockings straining to contain his shapely calves and thick thighs. Always in jewel tones, emerald and sapphire and amethyst, that pop against the warmth of his skin.

More importantly, Steve wears lingerie with a confidence that takes Eddie’s breath away. He’ll stalk across the room with a sway to his hips and a fire in his eyes that tells Eddie he knows exactly how sexy he looks. He’ll grab Eddie’s hands and place them where he wants them, encouraging him to squeeze until the lacy pattern leaves an imprint on the skin beneath. He’ll grind their pelvises together, panties still on, until the fabric is wet with their combined precome and his cock is hard enough to peek out over the waistband. He’ll command Eddie to come on him, painting the material with a glaze of white that he’ll have to wash out by hand the next day.

Steve in lingerie? Insanely hot. Eddie? Not so much. He stares into the mirror and feels nothing but pathetic at the sight of himself in a black matching set. Too angular, too harsh, too awkward.

“Eds?” Steve’s voice, though muffled from the other side of the bathroom door, still makes Eddie jump. A tentative knock follows. “You okay in there?”

He should just change back into his boxers. No harm done, lingerie just isn’t for him. Steve doesn’t even have to see how stupid it looks.

Except that the doorknob is turning behind him and Steve is sticking his head into the room and there’s no way Steve isn’t getting the full view right now. Not just Eddie’s ass, which is facing him, but the reflection of his front in the mirror across the small room.

Eddie meets Steve’s gaze in the mirror. To his surprise, Steve isn’t laughing or grimacing or making that weirdly blank face he gets when he’s trying to be polite and not say whatever bitchy comment is on the tip of his tongue. No, Steve looks… flabbergasted. Dumbfounded. Gobsmacked.

“Oh my god.”

Immediately, Eddie goes on the defensive. “I know, I know, it’s ridiculous. I’m gonna take it off and we can pretend this never happened.” He twists his arms up behind him to struggle with the hook and eye closure on the bralette. It took him, like, ten minutes to get it on, and he suspects it will be even harder to take it off

“No!” Steve exclaims, voice echoing off the shower tiles. Eddie can feel him looking up and down his body, can see something like awe in his eyes. “Please, don’t take it off.”

“Um.” He releases the band where he had tugged it halfway down his back to reach the clasps more easily.

Steve steps up behind him. His hands hover over Eddie’s shoulders. “Can I— is it okay if I touch you?” he asks softly.

Eddie doesn’t know if he can speak, nerves squeezing his throat shut. He nods instead.

It’s just light pressure at first. Steve’s fingers skim along the bralette’s straps, down Eddie’s back and up again, tracing over his shoulders until they reach the triangles of lacy mesh that serve as the cups.

“Look at that,” Steve breathes. “Gorgeous.”

Skin meets skin now as he steers away from the fabric and follows the lines of Eddie’s tattoos. The spider below his left collarbone, the demonic face beneath it. On the other side of his chest, more recently inked, a pair of twenty-sided dice showing rolls of one and twenty.

“The black really stands out against your skin,” Steve tells him. “Matches your tattoos.”

“Steve,” Eddie protests. His face is heating up, a flush spreading across his cheeks, down his neck and chest. He watches his skin going pink in the mirror, which makes him flush even more in a feedback loop of embarrassment.

Steve gently runs his palms up and down Eddie’s upper arms. “You don’t like it.” It’s not a question; he saw Eddie’s reaction, his body language screaming his discomfort.

Even knowing that Steve knows the answer, it’s hard for Eddie to say it out loud. “Not really.” He shifts his weight, awkwardly folds his arms across his front.

“Why not?” When Eddie’s reflection just gapes at him, Steve elaborates, “What’s wrong with it? Is it how it feels?”

No, Steve had chosen well with this set. It’s not scratchy or restrictive or anything, perfectly sized for Eddie and comfortable enough to wear all day, he thinks. “It’s not that.”

Steve frowns. “Is it… I don’t know, is it too girly for you?” He had struggled with that at first, the way it forced him to embrace a side of himself that he had always rejected. Now he has fun exploring his feminine side.

Eddie doesn’t have particularly strong feelings about gendering underwear, though, so he doesn’t think that’s the problem, either. He struggles to find the right words for a moment before he settles on, “It just doesn’t look good on me.”

“I think it does,” Steve says simply.

How can it? How could anything possibly look good on Eddie’s scrawny, scarred body? He almost wants to ask Steve what he sees in him, but he’s scared that the praise will sound like it’s for another person entirely.

As always, Steve seems to read his mind. “Black is your color, obviously. It makes the rest of you look like you’re glowing or something. Like the moon.” He tugs one of the bralette straps aside to plant a kiss on Eddie’s shoulder. “Like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

Steve’s hands come up to cover the lace panels adorning Eddie’s chest. “So pretty. I can’t decide if I want to take it off you or leave it on.” He pinches one of his nipples through the fabric, prodding it into hardness. “Does that feel good?” he asks Eddie, almost as an aside to his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Eddie rasps. Fuck, his mouth is dry. He can feel Steve’s cock, half-hard against his ass, and his own dick plumping up in response.

“Yeah,” Steve echoes absently. His chin rests on Eddie’s shoulder for a better view of the mirror. “Yeah, I bet my mouth would feel good, too.”

It would, Eddie knows it would. He watches Steve’s hands teasing him in the mirror and pictures his tongue licking over the material, his mouth sucking the taste of Eddie’s skin right through the lace, turning the fabric dark with spit.

“And this—” Steve wiggles a finger under the band, pulling it away from the skin only to release it with a sharp snap that steals Eddie’s breath. “I could jerk you around with this. Leave it on while I fuck you from behind and use it to pull you back on my cock. Keep it tight enough to leave marks under your tits.”

Eddie can’t do anything but groan and bend over the counter in invitation. Sadly, Steve lets go of the bralette rather than letting it keep digging into Eddie’s ribs, but he makes up for it by grabbing his lace-covered hips and grinding his cock against Eddie’s ass.

“Perfect,” he breathes. “I can see right through your panties when you bend over like that. You didn’t tell me you were gonna wear a plug, too.” Steve’s thumb trails down the seam at the back of Eddie’s underwear, tracing it until he hits the silicone base of the toy plugging Eddie’s hole. He nudges it deeper just to hear Eddie’s breath hitch.

“Didn’t think you’d wanna wait,” Eddie explains, pressing back into Steve’s touch.

Steve chuckles. “You mean you didn’t wanna wait.” When Eddie looks up at the mirror, Steve’s reflection is looking right back at him. His eyes are molten with want. “You wanted me to push you down on the bed, tug your panties to the side, and slide right in, huh?” His fingers follow his words, pulling the lingerie out of the way and coaxing the plug out of Eddie.

“Steve,” he begs, keeping their gazes locked in the mirror.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Steve tells him, reaching for the bottle of lube Eddie had left on the countertop. “You’re gonna get exactly what you wanted.” He slicks up his cock, wiping the excess from his fingers around Eddie’s hole, and then he’s lining up and pushing inside.

Eddie is suddenly aware of everywhere the lingerie is touching— the elastic waist and leg holes of the underwear leaving indentations in his skin. The band of the bralette fighting the expansion of his lungs if Eddie breathes too deep. The mesh covering his nipples chafing a little when Steve holds his torso against the counter. The wet spot where his cock leaks into his panties making him shiver when it presses into the cold edge of the sink.

And there’s Steve, around him, inside him, kissing the bumps of Eddie’s spine, fucking him so good it makes Eddie’s eyes water, trying to get Eddie to see himself like Steve sees him, something dark and beautiful and his…

In the mirror, Eddie watches Steve’s face as they both reach their peak. Creased brow, bitten lips, eyes scrunching shut against the inevitability of his orgasm. He feels the throb of Steve coming inside him, the weight of Steve’s hands anywhere he can reach, touching Eddie like he’s something holy. That touch grounds both of them when the pleasure threatens to carry him away.

For a moment, they both slump against the counter in exhaustion. Then Steve reaches down to feel the mess Eddie made of his panties, rubbing the come-soaked fabric against his cock until Eddie’s knees are shaking with oversensitivity. He does the same when he pulls out, kneeling behind Eddie to clean him up by sucking his own come through the gaps in the lace.

“Stevie, wait, too much,” Eddie slurs, waving a trembling arm back in Steve’s direction to make him stop.

“Sorry, baby.” Steve catches his hand and tangles their fingers together, then leverages himself back to his feet with a huff. “Hard to resist.”

Eddie turns around to face Steve, not his reflection, for the first time this evening. He looks the same but he’s warm flesh instead of cool glass when Eddie pulls him in for a kiss. “Thank you,” he says into Steve’s mouth.

Steve brushes their noses together affectionately. “Any time. Change your mind about the lingerie?”

He grins back. “I could be persuaded to give it another try.”

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Steve and Chrissy as two internet-famous chefs/bakers, Steve with a channel focusing on (not always) easy homemade and nutritious meals, Chrissy with a baking channel full of body positivity to spite her mom.

They both get invited to something like Phoning It In from the Try Guys - a baking/cooking competition where they have to guide the actual chefs only through a pay phone. As the TG's show says: "the mind of a chef paired with the hands of an idiot". And the idiots in question are their best friends - Robin and Eddie. Which shouldn't be that bad, but then...they actually have to swap them. And they can't tell them what they're making.

It's a holiday episode so the theme is gingerbread.

Steve is slumped in the phone booth, sometimes covering the receiver and asking Chrisy why, why would her best friend refuse to measure ingredients in anything more precise than "a bit", "a bit more", "kinda enough", "oooh might be a bit too much" and "a fuckton".

Chrissy tries very hard to explain to Robin that artistic expression is an amazing thing, but hot sauce and gingerbread might be too artistic for the judges. Robin disagrees. Chrissy pleads with her and eventually talks Robin into just including some chilli flakes in her batter and not the hot sauce as a topping.

Eddie spends half of the prep time complaining to Steve that a gingerbread house is lame, it should have been a gingerbread castle. Robin agrees.

Robin deciding to give her tiny gingerbread men flannel shirts and spending way too much on decorating them. She runs out of time very soon and just writes "THIS IS FLANEL" into a shirt-shaped blob.

Steve and Eddie shamelessly flirting despite having never met each other and then threatening violence in equal measure to get the other one do what they want. "I bet your eyes are more beautiful than the entire sky full of stars Stevie, also I might have dropped one extra spoon of spices into the gloopy thingy and I don't want to get my hands more dirty than they are so I'll just leave it in-" "Eds, you vile seductress, your voice could charm many a seaman but if you don't get that spicy glob out of the batter I swear I will shave your head."

Robin somehow going from following the instructions into a full rambling mode and before they know it, she's just cutting hipster-shaped gingerbread flanelmen and telling Chrissy nearly her full life story, basically turning the prep into a therapy session. Chrissy listens and nods and just sometimes interjects with "people can be such jerks just because you're different, can you just quickly check that the temperature is still the same? Thank you Robs, now back to that asshole in your uni class-"

In the end, they finally meet at the judging table and present their work, bullshitting their way through explanations of many choices that were made (because the two actual chefs are not permitted to speak, only the great minds).

Steve almost sobs when he sees piped (and very melted) bats on toothpicks around the gingerbread castle, because of course Eddie made a castle. "I meant for that to happen, for the shock value" he announces when one of the bats starts a domino effect and knocks down the rest.

Chrissy's smile gets a little bit stiff when she sees attempted man buns on the gingerbread men's heads - ones which have unfortunately melted and they now have flowing ponytails. Slightly burned.

Steve confidently claims that the reason why his gingerbread house is black and has spires is because his little brother adores Dungeons and Dragons and he wanted to give him a cool prop for the final encounter with the big evil. When the castle crumbles because Eddie didn't bake it long enough, Steve just dramatically stands up and announces that the evil warlock has been defeated. Eddie almost faints behind the screen and unceremoniously asks Robin if that gem of a man is taken.

Chrissy explains how the gingerbread men are wearing flanel in honor of her best friend's uncle who is the flanel overlord. When the judges bite into the figures and taste the chilli flakes, Chrissy earnestly tells them that Eddie's uncle is a man with hidden depths and spicy personality (Eddie chokes on his own tongue at that) and Robin was kind enough to reflect that.

In the end, it doesn't matter who won. Eddie asks Steve (after he tastes the gingerbread bat, gingerbat) if he's still about to shave his head and Steve says it would be a shame, but he can make it up to him by inviting him for coffee. Robin awkwardly thanks Chrissy for listening to her and Chrissy admits she loved her rambling, that she hates it when it's quiet.

It all ends well (except for the gingerbread).

[libraryofgage]

Harlequin Prince (2)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One | Two (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One Queen ClarisseRenaldi One | Two

This part was line-jumped on Ko-Fi, which means y'all got it sooner than I originally planned!

If you want to line jump your favorite series, you can learn more here

Ironically, even tho the post says about a week of turn around, I get so excited that somebody wants to line jump that I just write it immediately lmao

Steve finally gets a good fight in this one, but it ends way too soon the poor boy. Either way, he also gets to meet some of the party!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

-------

Steve knew his dad wasn't in the picture, but he never knew why. He never asked, but he started to get this horrible feeling after a while. Harley Quinn's past was well known to Steve, her previous...associate and her relationship with him isn't exactly a secret, no matter how much his mother tried to keep them from him. She couldn't protect him at school, and she couldn't protect him from hearing people talking on the streets.

So, yeah, from the age of nine, Steve walked around with this horrendous knowledge in his gut, a knowledge that he wanted to think was just him being paranoid. But it wasn't. He knew it wasn't. He just couldn't admit that to himself, and he couldn't ask his mother because he didn't want to send her down that particular lane of memories. So it festered, and Steve pretended it didn't exist at all.

Until, that is, his 13th birthday. It was held at Uncle Bruce's mansion because his mother wanted to go all out. It was as much a celebration for her (a full three years without getting sent to Arkham!) as it was for him (managing to stay alive for 13 years in Gotham with Harley Quinn for a mother). Steve hadn't minded, either, especially when he saw the absolute joy she had when picking out the hugest bounce-house she could find with Uncle Bruce's sleek black credit card.

The party was catered by Steve's favorite Indian restaurant, the guests were limited to immediate friends and family, the bounce-house was extra bouncy, and a table was practically buckling under the weight of the gifts piled on top of it. It was, by far, Steve's best birthday, surpassing even the one he spent in Arkham after letting Poison Ivy out of her cell.

"Hey, Dumplin'!" his mother shouted, waving at him from the top of the bounce house she'd managed to climb. When Steve looked at her, she grinned even brighter and jumped, launching off turrets and rolling down sloped walls before landing on her feet on the ground. "Let's get to them presents!"

Steve laughed, looked at the table eagerly, and nodded. Her grin somehow getting wider, Harley turned, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted, "GET YOUR ASSES IN GEAR, EVERYONE! STEVIE'S OPENIN' PRESENTS!"

Soon enough, Steve was standing in front of the table, surrounded by everyone, and not at all sure where to start with the mountain of presents. "You should open mine first," Jason said, grinning as he gestured to a bike-shaped package.

It was, in fact, a bike. A motorcycle, specifically, with a red and black helmet and the promise of lessons from Jason whenever he wanted. Steve loved it immediately and ignored Uncle Bruce muttering about driving laws and how Steve couldn't operate any motorized vehicle until he was fifteen. "Well," he said, "as long as I don't get caught by Batman, who's gonna know?"

That had earned him a laugh and his mother's hand ruffling his hair. "Go on, Dumplin', choose another."

Dick got him a literal outfit's worth of Wonder Woman merch, accessories included, that made Bruce look ready to pop a blood vessel. Tim gave him small tracking pins and a hacked handheld game console to watch the trackers with the promise of free upgrades anytime he wanted. Damien gave him daggers since he "wasn't good enough for real swords, but everyone should have a blade" on them, just in case. Cass, Steph, and Barbara pooled their skills together (and Alfred, they borrowed Alfred a lot) to make him an Unofficial Robin costume, complete with shorts only slightly less scandalous than Dick's original costume.

Bruce, when he finally stopped glaring at the three of them, gave Steve a fingerprint panic button shaped like a bat and easily attached to a key ring. "For emergencies, Steve," he said, "Just hold your thumb to it for three seconds."

"This is perfect for the next time we run out of ice cream," Steve said, grinning as he attached it to his key chain.

"Emergencies."

"Oh. So if we run out of mint chip, specifically. Got it."

Bruce merely sighed and let him return to opening gifts.

Alfred gave him a tin of homemade cookies that Steve immediately had to protect from the others. Poison Ivy gave him a Venus flytrap and the promise to help him grow it properly. Selina couldn't be there, but Bruce passed along her gift: a pair of goggles Bruce had handed over with a sigh and quiet request for him to use them responsibly.

Steve opened Duke's present last, eyes widening at the red leather jacket. "Wait, seriously?" he asked, holding it up as he looked at Duke.

"You're gonna be a troublemaker, Steve," Duke said. "Might as well make sure you're bulletproof for it."

Steve grinned wider and pulled on the jacket, swimming in the leather but eager to grow into it all the same.

There was nothing from his mother in the pile, but Steve figured the party itself was his present since she'd done all the planning. When she pulled him away to a secluded room in the manor after they'd all had cake, Steve realized it was just because she didn't want to share this moment with anyone.

She smiled at him, reaching up and gently tucking a few strands of hair behind Steve's ears. "You grew up so fast, Dumplin'," she said, sighing softly.

"Ivy says I'm like a weed."

"Ives is right," Harley said, nodding once before looking away. "Okay, ready for your present?"

"Wasn't the party my present?"

"No, no, Dumplin'. The party was for fun," she said, grinning as she reached behind her and pulled a comically-large mallet from seemingly nowhere. "This is your present."

Steve blinked, leaning over to look around Harley. "Where'd that even come from?" he asked.

"Jester Logic, Dumplin'. Don't worry about it. I'll teach you the trick later," she promised, holding the mallet out to Steve with an expectant expression.

When Steve took it, the weight threw him off. He frowned, shifted his grip, and suddenly had no problem holding it up. He took a closer look, noting the scratches and marks on the mallet and the faded paint. "This was yours," he said.

"Yeah, it was."

"I've never seen it before."

Harley sighed, tugging on one of her pigtails with a slight frown. "Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly a great person when I used it, Dumplin'. Tried to forget about that Harley and all," she explained.

"Then why give it to me?"

Harley looked back at Steve and smiled, reaching out to cup his cheek. "Cuz you're so much better than me," she said. "I think you'll do some great things, Dumplin', and maybe all the good you do will erase most of the bad this mallet's got."

Her words were so serious, her smile was so bittersweet, and she looked ready to cry and deny it. This was the closest he'd ever gotten to learning about her past straight from the source, a past he knew about it, a past that involved a certain person that haunts Steve's mind with terrifying potential. Suddenly, he had to know.

Steve didn't really think before blurting out, "Is the Joker my father?"

Harley froze, her shoulders tensing and her eyes widening as she stared at Steve. "You don't got a father, Dumplin'," she finally said, her voice quiet and her expression conflicted.

"Fine. Was he the sperm donor?"

With a sigh, Harley stepped closer and placed her hands on Steve's shoulders. "I won't lie," she said. "He is, but that don't mean a thing. His crazy ain't hereditary, Dumplin', and he's never gettin' anywhere near you."

"Does...does he know?" Steve whispered, "About me, I mean."

"It don't matter," Harley said, her voice firm and her eyes more serious than Steve had ever seen them. "I'll kill him before he gets near ya. Ives will kill him. Hell, Brucie wil---no, wait, he's got those pesky morals. Fine, Jason will kill him before he gets near ya. Actually, Jason'd kill him anyway, but the excuse will be good if Brucie scolds him for it."

Steve couldn't help laughing at that, feeling a little lighter when his mother smiled back at him. When his laughter trickled to nothing more than a smile, he asked, "Then, was I the reason you left?"

Harley nodded and gently tugged Steve into her arms, holding him to her and cradling the back of his head. "Yeah, you were," she said, her voice soft and soothing. "I was excited to tell 'im when I learned about you, but then I heard him talking to some goons. He was laughin' about running a kid over, breakin' their legs, and I realized...you wouldn't be special to him. You'd've been like his goons, all expendable and not even worth a glance. I couldn't put you through that, and I couldn't put me through it, either. So, I got us out the only way I knew how."

"By finding Uncle Bruce," Steve said.

He felt her nod. "By finding Brucie," she agreed. "He tried to deny bein' the Bat and all, but your mama ain't dumb, Dumplin'. I'd done my homework, and the butts matched. Once I explained it all, once I told him about you, he agreed to help."

Steve nodded, listening to his mother's heart beating against his ear. He glances down at the mallet again, tightens his grip, and takes a deep breath. "Thank you," he said, "for the gift and for telling me. I'll do good with it, I promise."

"That's my boy," Harley said, pulling back and ruffling his hair. "Now, lemme explain that Jester Logic to ya."

----------

Hawkins remains boring even after meeting Eddie. After all, Eddie's in high school (his second attempt at senior year, apparently), and Steve...isn't. He should be, probably, but there's no way he's stepping one foot in that suburban nightmare of a building. He can feel the normalcy, the utter boredom, oozing from the place, and he'd rather not subject himself to that.

So, he spends his day wandering around Hawkins, getting a feel for the little town until he could navigate the place blindfolded. He can do the same in Gotham, but it's more impressive there with the winding streets and sprawling sidewalks. Here, it's nothing special.

The most interesting part of his day is when he's sitting on the roof of a video store, one leg dangling over the edge with the other pulled to his chest so he can rest his arm on his knee. He's about halfway through a cigarette when a cop car pulls into the lot and a middle-aged man steps out.

He looks up at Steve, frowning as he calls up, "You shouldn't be there, son."

"I ain't your son," he calls back, grinning as he takes another drag and blows smoke out as the guy rests his hands on his belt. It reminds him so much of Gotham PD rookies trying to posture that Steve can't help laughing. "Is that supposed to intimidate me?"

"I'm serious, kid," the cop says, apparently ignoring Steve's question. "It's dangerous up there. If you don't come down, I'm gonna have to call the Fire Department to bring the ladder."

Steve sighs and puts his cigarette out on the roof. He gets up, stretches his arms above his head, and stands on the ledge of the roof. He grins at the cop, casually stepping into empty air and hearing the guy shout as he falls. He lands in a crouch on the awning over the door, swings to hang from it, and lands on his feet on the sidewalk.

It wasn't even much of a fall, but the cop looks like he's about to have a heart attack. Steve glances at the badge on his chest. "We done now, Officer Hopper?" he asks.

"Don't do that again," Hopper says, pointing a finger at Steve, "Or I will drag your ass to the station and call your parents."

Steve snorts, doing his best to hold his smile back. "I'll keep that in mind, sir," he says, giving a mocking two-finger salute before turning on his heels and walking down the street.

After a few blocks, he veers off into the forest, figuring he'll wander around the trees for a while before going to the Hideout to bother Bev and stare at Eddie and quietly pray someone else is gonna look for a fight.

Did he mention Hawkins is boring? Because it's fucking boring.

Steve sighs, kicking a stick as he shoves his hands into his jacket. He idly notes the forest is healthy. Sure, a few pieces of litter are strewn around, but it's not as bad as the parks in Gotham can get. Poison Ivy would find this place barely passable, which is hard to manage, and he's tempted to call her when he gets home to tell her about it.

He hums softly as he walks, enjoying the sounds of the forest until they just...stop.

The entire forest falls silent, which is weird; forests are too full of life to go silent. Even the bugs seem to have frozen in place, too scared to risk making a sound by moving. Steve stops, looking around him with a frown and trying to figure out what's caused this.

He gets the answer a second later when he hears a scream. The voice sounds young and cracks slightly, so it definitely belongs to a child. Despite himself, Steve can't help grinning as he takes off in the direction of the scream.

This is the most exciting thing to happen in the four weeks he's been stuck in Hawkins. As he runs through trees and easily jumps over bushes to take the shortest path, he makes guesses on what he'll find. Maybe Hawkins has a villain that's only now showing up. Maybe the town has a secret alligator or something that's decided to have a midday snack. Hell, maybe someone just decided to be a dick today.

He realizes every guess is wrong when he slides into a clearing to see a few kids (two boys, one girl) surrounded by some weird dog-looking...things. They have heads but no faces, crouched low to the ground and growling at the kids they've cornered. There's around ten of them, which would normally make Steve hesitate, but he's so desperate at this point for a real fight that he doesn't care.

Instead, he reaches over his shoulder, thinks about how fucking hilarious it's gonna be to jump out of nowhere with a giant mallet, and grips the handle as he swings it over his shoulder. "Hey, monster mutts!" he shouts, grinning when all the monsters and the kids finally notice him. "Let's play."

Pure, unfiltered joy rushes through him when the first monster-dog jumps at him. Steve's eyes are bright and his grin is positively feral as he swings the mallet and sends it flying into a tree. He roundhouse kicks another dog, using the momentum to bring his foot down on the head of a third before smashing its body with the mallet.

"Are you insane?!" one of the kids shouts.

"Certifiably!" he shouts back, watching as another monster-dog jumps at him. He waits for the perfect moment to back flip, bringing his feet under the dog to send it flying. He brings the mallet up as he lands, clocking another monster under the jaw. It yelps, crashing into another dog.

"Where'd this guy even come from?" the girl asks, turning to look at the boys with her.

"I don't know, but I'm happy to let him deal with the demodogs."

Oh. That's what they're called. Steve hums softly at the name, grinning as he twirls the mallet and swings with all his strength at one of the demodog. He rests the mallet on his shoulder like a baseball bat, watching the demodog arch in the air with an appreciative whistle. "Solid air," he says, nodding once before looking at the remaining demodogs.

There's only three, the others scattered in the clearing. He can't tell if they're dead or not, but he could always smash them to mush when he's done. Steve grins at the remaining dogs. "C'mon, then," he says, only to be filled with disappointment when they creep back, turn heel, and run.

"Damn, that's no fun," Steve says, sighing as he rests the mallet on the ground and leans on the handle. He looks at the kids. "You guys okay?"

The girl has orange hair pulled back into a messy braid. She's staring at him like he's got two heads but is kind of impressed by it. One of the boys has curly hair being smothered by his hat, and the other is wearing a basketball jersey. They're also staring at Steve like he's crazy. "Dude," the curly-haired one says, "that was awesome!"

"Where'd you get that mallet from?" the girl asks.

"Jester Logic," Steve explains, shrugging as he picks the mallet up and walks over. "Wanna hold it?"

When the girl lights up, he passes the mallet to her, snorting when she immediately staggers under its weight. "How do you hold this so easily?"

"Jester Logic. Again. It's funnier when other people find it heavy."

"That makes no sense," basketball jersey says.

"Who are you?" curly hair asks.

"Steve. Moved here recently. What about y'all?"

"Dustin," curly hair says.

"Lucas," basketball jersey says.

"Max," the girl says, her voice strained until Steve takes the mallet back, twirling it like it weighs nothing.

"Great. Nice to meet y'all. Now, what the fuck were those?"

"How much time you got?" Dustin asks.

Steve grins, thinking he's finally found something that can keep him entertained when he's not hanging around Eddie. "Plenty."

---------

Tag list (let me know if you'd like to be added!)

@nectandra, @y4r3luv, @just-a-tiny-void,

[wroteclassicaly]

A/N: Work week blues. Should be sleeping, but my brain gave me the inspiration for this instead. 18+

“Honey…” He tries again, his fingers finding purchase scratching through your scalp.

You’re flipping around all over the bed, sheets becoming tangled around limbs, body in some eagered frenzy. He nearly whines with you, bushy brows pinched together as you lower yourself further down the mattress, manicured nails playing with the curls of thick leg hair that dust his inner thigh, his boxers having ridden up. He already looked at his watch to see it was almost 12:30 am, and while he doesn’t have a shift at the store in the morning — you do have work in just a few hours.

“Baby, we should be asleep. You know your schedule on Mondays.”

You raise a brow, before pushing one thigh apart from the other, anchoring yourself in between. You’re playfully amused, but your pupils have blown wide, your sclera wet with tears, gaze glazed over. It’s your tell-tale sign of being gone. You let your tongue slide out over your lips, then your teeth, humming as if you’re thinking something over. And then you say it… “I’d rather be sucking you off instead.”

He should be prepared for this, you’re such an insatiable minx. However, there’s also an undeniable desperation in your body language, pitching itself within your tone. You need him. He can feel his own vision beginning to swim with shapes, his feet planted firmly to help his thighs stay up and spread apart so that you can work.

“What do you want me to do, honey? What can I do to make this better for you?”

“Take it out.” You don’t miss a beat, raising onto your haunches to rid yourself of your sleep shirt, immediately beginning to play with your own nipples.

Steve begins to flush, body latching onto its own personal heatwave. He does as directed, his cock embarrassingly rock hard already, and difficult to peel off the fabric of his tight briefs. He’s sticky with his own pre-cum, an appreciative whimpering noise you make, letting him know you see that he’s gotten himself too wet taking off his underwear, that it’s slicked all through the bush at his base.

“Fuck, give it to me. I want it now.” You’re ever-so the lady, waiting on permission, saliva causing your mouth to water with an overflowing.

Steve’s voice has given way to something lower, deeper, and bitten with a honey hot claim. Folding one freckle and mole spattered arm behind his head, showing off his biceps, he’s nearly hoarse when he consents. “Go on, honey, take it. It’s yours.”

His cock jumps and slaps back against his stomach from the first hot breath that you give. Your smaller palm sliding into your panties and beginning a sopping wet rhythm as you nose down his warm, velvet shaft, all the way to that cream covered thatch of curls. You’re watching him the same way that he watches you from a similar position, and then you’re like a wild woman — inhaling. Steve tries to catch himself, but it’s too late. The action has him throbbing once more, his girth slapping against your cheek and jaw.

“Always smell so fucking good, Stevie. I could stay down here all week, get fired, and be happy if I could do this full time.”

“W-whatever you want, baby. I’ll do it for you.”

You leave kisses along his shaft now, still touching yourself, something that does not go unnoticed by Steve. It should be humiliating how close he is, just by this, but he doesn’t feel any of that with you. Only safety and love. He tries to convey that within the next few moments, and you pick it up automatically, sharing a soft smile. One that fades into that cheeky little grin he’s grown so fond of, even before your relationship began.

“You wanna do somethin’ else to me, don’t you, honey?”

You appear shy for a fraction of a second, but you hold up your finger to trace that defining vein along his cock, similar to the one that runs along his forearm, your fingertip circling the head, before you enclose your fist. Steve’s breathing accelerates and he groans from within his diaphragm.

“Yeah? You gonna find my spot again until I soak my own chest? Fill up your mouth, maybe?”

“Stevie…” You’re completely fucked out, running on adrenaline, schedule be damned.

“That’s it, isn’t it? You wanna play with my ass, huh?”

And you both know that your non verbal communication is enough of an answer. As for you? You definitely fall asleep at work the next day.