#steeb is mad

[gay-jewish-bucky]

[teenbiology]

steve “i believe in a thing called love by the darkness” harrington

[chernayavidua]

started thinking about steeb which got me thinking about the absolute horrible writing that his character went through after cap 3. (which should NOT have been even considered a cap movie but that's for another day) literally no one on set or at mabel hq took a moment to say, “hey, having steve go back in time and stay there with a woman he shared one kiss with 70-something years ago doesn’t make sense because decades later he saw that same woman and knows she moved on and had a happy full life without him. maybe we can write steve/chr*s out another way that doesn’t back track on the path his character took in this last two stand alone movies and doesn’t have him acting like a love-sick teenager when he’s a grown man." 

[lovebugism]

can I request steeb taking care of shy!reader who is upset after a bullying incident in school? I figured she would be a year younger (like robin’s grade) because I don’t think anyone would touch her if king steve was around. I feel like he’s be so soft with her but also reeling at the thought that someone hurt his girl!

thanks for ur request anon! idk if i can count this as a blrub because it's nearly 3k words but alas pls enjoy! tw for blood (knee scrapes) and j*son c*rver

You come to Family Video with a scrape on your left knee.

It’s not the weirdest thing in the world — you ride a worn-down bike that’s probably older than you are. Steve’s been begging you to get a new one for as long as he’s known you, outright offering to pay for the damn thing as long as he’s sure it’ll get you to him without getting hurt in the process.

You reject him every time. “It gets me where I need to go,” you always shrug. “What more could I want from it?”

And he wants so badly to be angry at the beauty you manage to find in mediocrity. But he can’t be, really. It’s why you fell in love with him in the first place, isn’t it? Why you took the heartbroken boy in your arms on Halloween night in 1984 and convinced him he wasn’t bullshit despite what he told you. He’d be an idiot to be mad at how kind you are.

But when you walk into Family Video, halfway limping with blood dripping down your knee, he knows it’s different. 

Something more than a toppled bike hurt you.

“Oh, god, babe,” he winces from where he stands at the counter with Robin. “What happened?”

“I fell,” you shrug as he races over to you.

“You fell?” Robin scoffs. “Knock me out with a feather.” You know she’s joking, but it’s a little too monotone, and you’re a little too sensitive. Something in her words hurts more than your throbbing knee.

Steve, who knows you like the back of his hand, understands exactly what your diverted gaze means. When you look down to the floor, he shoots Robin a firm glare.

What? she mouths, obviously confused at the sudden silence.

“Can you get the first aid kit from the back? I think there might be some gauze in there,” he asks, deciding to change the conversation entirely. He wraps an arm around your waist and walks slowly with you to the counter. He meets your grimace with a soft smile. “I’ll clean it, wrap it up, and you’ll be good as new.”

You don’t give him anything in response. Not even a pity smile.

He sits you on the counter with the open first-aid kit beside you. Robin flips the store sign to closed. It’s barely five o’clock. She starts tidying up the store to go home, anyway.

Steve wipes up the warm blood with a napkin and cleans the scrape with an alcohol wipe. You hiss at the feeling — it’s like a hundred tiny bee stings. From where he sits just below you on a worn swivel chair behind the counter, he leans in to press a kiss just above the cut.

Without all the blood, it looks a lot less gnarly than before.

“See? It’s not so bad,” the boy smiles as he unravels some gauze. “I’ll patch it up, baby you for the rest of the night, and you’ll forget it ever hurt by morning.”

Again, you don’t even smile. You just purse your lips to the side and nod.

Steve’s heart stings, but he doesn’t take anything by it. He wraps the bandage down and over your knee in an even rhythm. He tries not to be so direct when he asks: “How’d this happen, anyway, huh? Did Ol’ Sliver finally give up on you?”

You shake your head, eyes on the gauze instead of the boy. The white cloth splotches with pink from where your wound still weeps. “No,” you answer quietly. “Just fell.”

“Just fell, huh?” he repeats quietly. A few caramel-colored strands fall over his forehead as he peers up at you with his chin tilted towards his chest. He tries his best to smile. “You’re givin’ me the sad eyes, babe. I feel like it was more than just a fall.”

“It was stupid…”

He scoffs. “Never.”

“A car drove by me,” you confess, only half-lying. You try to look down at him, but your gaze wavers along with your courage. “And the music was kinda loud, and it… It startled me a little.”

You don’t tell him that Jason Carver intentionally swerved on the wrong side of the road to scare you — or that he yelled mean things through the rolled-down passenger window before speeding off again. It’s easier to keep it to yourself. You don’t want it to become a whole thing.

Steve’s brows furrow as he tucks the end of the bandage to keep it from unraveling. “Were they going too fast?”

“I don’t know. Kind of.”

“It wasn’t those football assholes, was it? I swear to god, they need their license revoked.”

“No,” you answer, quick to soothe his rising anger. “It was— It wasn’t anyone. I just got scared, and I swerved off the road, okay?”

Even in your mousy voice, it sounds like you’re being stern with him. And you’re never stern with him.

“Well, that’s okay,” Steve assures with a shrug. “We all get scared. It’s better than you getting hit, I guess.”

“I guess,” you echo with a huff, a teasing smile on your lips.

Steve grins back, happy to see you less pained. He smacks a gentle kiss to your wrapped-up knee. “Go get in the car, okay? I’ll clean up here, put your bike in the trunk, and we can go home.”

You go shy as you peer at him from beneath your lashes. “Your home?” you clarify, secretly hoping he’ll say yes.

His answer isn’t surprising. “Of course, my home. You practically live there, anyway.”

You smile and brush a soft kiss to the scruff of his jaw, murmuring a quiet thank you there before leaving. You’re not limping nearly as badly as you had been before.

Robin waits for the door to ding shut before blurting: “I think it was Jason.” 

Steve stills with the first-aid kit in his hands. He squints at her from where she stands between the horror and X-rated horror aisles. 

“What?”

“I think that’s who might’ve run her off the road.”

“…Why?”

“He gives her a hard time sometimes, I don’t know,” she explains vaguely and with a sigh. “Normally, it’s stupid. Like, honestly, I just think he’s super shit at flirting. Maybe he was just trying to scare her and… got a little carried away…”

Anger burns red hot in Steve’s chest. It blooms just behind his ribcage like a flower with fire for petals.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks through gritted teeth, trying not to sound too angry. It’s not like Robin was the one who hurt you, after all — just some douchebag who wouldn’t have laid a hand on you if he knew who your boyfriend was. 

Steve’s knuckles go white as his grip tightens on the plastic box.

“Because I thought it was harmless!” Robin agonizes as she rushes to meet him. Her deep ocean eyes swim with worry, frightened that he might be angry at her. “Seriously. Most of the time, it sounds like he’s just being mean to get into her pants. And, like, I don’t know if that’s how he landed Chrissy back in the day or what, but he’s obviously got no clue what kind of girl he’s flirting with because…”

She trails off at Steve’s hardened umber gaze.

Robin groans and leans over the counter, reaching for the boy’s wrist. “Please don’t be mad at me, Stevie. My heart can take that. I’ll be sick for days—”

“I’m not mad at you, Rob,” the boy promises. He sighs. “I just gotta… go beat up a kid now.”

—————

You’re too focused on the stars and the feeling of Steve’s warm hand on your thigh to notice he’s taking the wrong route home.

The car slows way sooner than you expected. When you come back down from the clouds, you find that you’re in a near-empty lot. The car jolts softly when Steve puts it in park.

“What are we doing?” you turn to him with furrowed brows.

Steve unclicks his seatbelt. “I’ll be right back.”

You look past him, at the large building lit up by amber streetlamps and the green door with a light in its window. Every so often, someone will whip by it wearing a white jersey. Your heart sinks.

“Why are we at school?” you asked, scrunched-faced in a mixture of anger and worry. You don’t know how he knows what happened to you, only that he does know.

“I need to take care of something here. It’s okay—”

“Don’t go in there,” you plead. “Please. Let’s just go home—”

“I’ll be right back,” he repeats. He leans over the console to kiss your cheek. You don’t lean into it like you usually do.

“Steve—”

The car door shuts and cuts off the rest of your pleas.

Steve has an easy time getting into the gym. The backdoor is propped open with a small wooden block like it always is. The coaches welcome him in like usual. They beam as the old team captain waltzes into the newly painted gym like he owns the place.

“Harrington!” the burly man calls over the sounds of squeaking shoes and bouncing basketballs. “Come to turn in an application, finally? I’ve only been asking you to be co-coach since you graduated.”

Steve smiles coolly. “No. Not yet… I, uh— I actually needed to talk to one of your players.”

The man shoots him a look.

“Jason Carver.”

“Oh,” the man chuckles, a deep belly laugh. “You only wanna pull my star player out of practice, huh?”

“It’ll take, like, two seconds. Tops.”

A momentary stare-off ensues. Steve knows the answer he’s going to get. Everyone at this damn school has got a soft spot for him. Perks of being Hawkins High royalty, he figures.

“Two,” the coach says in the place of any real answer. 

He takes the green whistle from his neck and blows into it. The shrill sound echoes through the gym. Like trained dogs, the boys on the court still.

“Carver!” the man shouts, almost too loudly. Steve winces from beside him. “Get over here!”

Jason passes the ball off and jogs to meet them without question. When Steve says he’s got something to tell him, the blonde-haired boy smiles like it’s a privilege. Red-faced and out of breath, he trails behind Steve as they walk out into the hallway.

“Don’t tell me you’re coming to be assistant coach,” the boy says with an audible smile. “Coach Blair has only been talking about it for a year—”

When the double doors shut behind him, Steve whips around and shoves the boy into the lockers. They clang beneath his sudden weight and echo down the empty corridor. Jason’s smug face contorts into shock. “—What the hell?”

He tries to regain his footing, but Steve only shoves him backward again. His hands twist in the neck of his jersey. 

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Jason shouts.

Steve’s stern features never waver. He leans in close, eyes trained on the boy like a predator to prey. “Leave my girl alone,” he threatens lowly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I don’t know who your girl is—”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about,” Steve spits in response. The lockers bang once more when he shoves the boy backward again. “Should break your leg for what you did to her. What would the star player do then, huh?”

Jason’s wide eyes flit between the both of Steve’s. He racks his brain for what he might’ve done so wrong and who he might’ve done it to. He gapes at the realization — “Bambi? Bambi’s your girlfriend?”

“Oh, that’s what you call her?” Steve muses in a monotone, feigning interest. “How cute.”

“I didn’t know, man. I swear. If I knew, I never would’ve—”

“I don’t care. And stop pleading, alright? It’s embarrassing.”

Jason goes quiet. His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. Steve’s hand loosens on his jersey. His ice-cold gaze never wavers.

“I don’t wanna know what you did to her. I don’t wanna know why you’re doing it, either — if you think she’s pretty, or if she’s easy-pickings for assholes like you — I don’t care.” He presses the boy further into the lockers, their noses inches apart. “But if I hear you’re messing with her, talking about her to your friends— if you so much as look in her direction again, I promise you won’t like what I do to you.”

Jason’s jaw clenches. He juts out his chin in a feeble attempt to make himself taller. “Yeah?”

Steve nods. “Yeah.”

“That’s real rich coming from someone who couldn’t even beat up Jonathan Byers.”

“I’ve learned a lot since then,” the older boy promises, weirdly composed. “Feel free to find out if you don’t believe me.”

The boy stays quiet.

Steve shoves him backward when he lets go of him. He gives him a final glare and one last warning before walking back toward the gym. “And plant your feet when you’re on the court, alright? It’d be a real shame if you broke an ankle.”

—————

The drive to his house is silent.

It usually is. Most of the time, you’re too zoned into the music or making shapes in the clouds to talk. But now it’s because you’re angry. Steve would be an idiot not to notice. He can feel it radiating off of you like steam.

He reaches for the console and turns the air-con up.

“Are you hot?” he asks in a feeble attempt to break the quiet.

With your arms crossed and your gaze out the window, you deadpan: “I’m mad.”

“I feel like that’s sorta the same thing,” Steve jokes with a weak, lopsided smile.

“I didn’t want you to do that,” you choke through a tight throat. “You’re just gonna make it worse.”

“Well, it wouldn’t have gotten so bad if you would’ve just told me.”

You turn to him with eyes glassy from unshed tears. A stoplight bathes the both of you in shades of neon scarlet. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d do something about it,” you spit.

“So you’d rather let some asshole run you off the road, huh? Is that it?”

He doesn’t mean to be so harsh. He’s just upset, and the adrenaline’s making him antsy. 

Steve learned a long time ago not to be so forward with you. Even if he’s just joking around, even if he’s mad and saying shit he doesn’t mean — you’re not built for that. You’re made of something softer: marshmallow fluff and crocheted yarn and flower petals. It’s why you let Jason Carver pick on you for so long without saying a word about it.

“It’s not like that,” you argue quietly, blinking back tears as you turn away from him again.

Steve sighs. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean— I’m just upset, okay? I didn’t mean to yell.”

“I know…”

“I just wish you would tell me these things, you know?”

His hand is warm on the skin of your thigh as he smooths his palm over it. Your eyes flit to your leg and then to him. You nod. “I know. I just…” Your features crumple when you trail off. 

Steve squeezes your thigh in reassurance. “You just what?”

“I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle myself,” you confess quietly. “Everyone thinks I’m so weak. I didn’t want you to think that, too.”

“I don’t think you’re weak,” Steve scoffs out a laugh, like he almost can’t believe you’d even think something like that.

Your brows furrow. “No?”

“No. Not even a little bit. But as your boyfriend— ‘cause I am your boyfriend, right?”

You meet his teasing gaze with a half-hearted scowl. You’ve only been dating for a year and a half. You nod to humor him.

“Exactly. So, as your boyfriend, it’s my job to help you through the hard shit, you know? Just because you can get through it on your own doesn’t mean you have to.”

Your chest swells. You try not to smile too wide, but it’s hard not to. You’ve never had someone who wanted to protect you before. It’s as strange as it is gratifying.

“Okay,” you concede with a nod.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” you repeat with a giggle.

Steve leans over the console, moving slowly like his lips are made of magnets that drift to yours. Through the overwhelming urge to kiss you, he jokes: “Is it— and I’m just checking here— is it okay?”

You shake your head and lean to meet him halfway. “You’re such a dork.”

Your lips barely brush before a loud honk echoes behind you. You jolt apart from him, not noticing that the light had turned green until then. 

Steve sighs and mourns your unkissed lips. His engine roars softly as he presses on the gas.

He’d noticed. He saw the light change about twenty seconds ago — how the bright crimson changed into a softer shade of lime that bathed you in its neon hues. He just loved the way you looked in green.

[gerrystamour]

run it back (give me five whole minutes)

Rated T | Steddie Week Day 5: Together | 1700 Words | Complete

[ READ ON AO3 ]

“Maybe I can come help you?” “No, Eds, you need to sleep tonight. You and Wayne have a lot of driving to do tomorrow, don’t you?” “Yeah, just… we’re not gonna see each other for a week, and we haven’t really seen each other for a couple of days already…” “I know. I’m sorry…” If you're seeing me reposting it, no you aren't. ANYWAY this is my entry for @steddie-week Day 5: Established Relationship & Together CW: Some negative self-talk because I decided to inflict some of my RSD on Steeb.

By the time Steve left work, his entire head was full of static. There was a pounding, pulling feeling just behind his left eye and it felt like his eardrums were ready to rupture with how loud his ears rang. So much had been going on all day, and then some moron knocked over an entire shelf literally five minutes before the store closed.

Steve had been tempted to tidy it up as best as he could and leave a note, but he knew Keith would fire him if he did that. Normally, he wouldn’t really care because cleaning up the mess would normally help settle his mood before he went home to bed.

But he had plans. He had plans and now he had to cancel them to clean up a mess so he didn’t get fired.

The phone call had sucked to make, telling Eddie that he wasn’t going to be able to make it to his place after work.

“Maybe I can come help you?”

“No, Eds, you need to sleep tonight. You and Wayne have a lot of driving to do tomorrow, don’t you?”

“Yeah, just… we’re not gonna see each other for a week, and we haven’t really seen each other for a couple of days already…”

“I know. I’m sorry…”

Eddie had reassured Steve that it was okay, that he understood, that he wasn’t mad. But Steve couldn’t shake the repeating, screaming thoughts that he fucked up big time. That it was a mistake to prioritize his shitty minimum wage job over seeing his boyfriend before he left to visit the few extended family members he and Wayne still spoke to for a week.

Steve was just destined to be a shit boyfriend, apparently.

That thought had to be shut down quickly because he didn’t want to do something embarrassing like cry while he was still within the four walls of Family Video.

So he focused on righting the shelf and reorganizing the videos correctly. A few cases got damaged, so he set those aside with a note for Keith. By the time he finished, it was one in the morning.

There was a chance Eddie was still awake because if Steve knew his boyfriend, he knew the man didn’t have a healthy sleep schedule. But what good would calling him do? Steve already chose work over him, so calling now would just rub that in.

Steve locked up the store and drove home, tears welling up in his eyes and blurring his vision. He fucked up bad and he was going to have to figure out how to fix it fast. Steve kept replaying the distracted way Eddie said he loved him on the phone when they hung-up earlier, which made him think of all the times Nancy said she loved him.

Maybe if he woke up super early the next morning, he could get to Eddie’s trailer before he left, and he could apologize in person and see him? Waking up early after a shift like the one he had and working past one in the morning was a recipe for a migraine, or at least a tension headache from hell, but it would be worth it to make this up to Eddie.

Steve couldn’t lose Eddie over his stupid bullshit.

By the time Steve pulled into the driveway of his house, he was struggling to hold back the tears. He wasn’t normally a crier, just when he was exhausted, in pain, and a bit heartsick all at once. Steve couldn’t stand that about himself, especially in moments like this where it wasn’t even okay for him to be that upset. He fucked up, why was he upset?

Entering his dark, quiet house, Steve quickly locked the front door and tossed his keys at the bowl on the table near the front door before trudging loudly up the stairs without taking off his shoes. He barely cared that his keys missed the bowl entirely and clattered loudly to the floor.

Steve didn’t even notice there was already a set of keys sitting in the bowl.

He didn’t stop until he was in his bathroom, staring at his tear-streaked and miserable face. “Stupid,” he muttered to himself as he started taking off his clothes for a shower. “Worst fucking boyfriend, why does anyone even fucking bother with you?”

“Hey!”

Steve jumped, too startled even to shout, and he turned on the intruder with fists ready. He wasn’t prepared to see his boyfriend, sleep-soft and frowning at him.

“Eds?” he asked, confusion blurring with his self-loathing. Why was Eddie here? Shit, he must’ve felt so bad for Steve he came over. Once again, someone else was doing all the fucking emotional work in the relationship, and Eddie had to be up early—

“Don’t talk about my boyfriend like that,” Eddie said firmly, stepping into the bathroom to hold Steve’s face.

“What?” he asked, dazed now that Eddie was standing in his space and touching him.

“You were saying mean shit about my amazing boyfriend, Steve,” Eddie said, and Steve’s expression crumpled.

“Don’t—you don’t have to say that. You’re just being nice—” Steve started, but he was interrupted by Eddie scoffing.

“Sweetheart, when am I ever ‘just being nice’ to anyone?” Eddie asked and Steve couldn’t really argue that. Eddie wasn’t mean, and he wasn’t always forthcoming with talking about his feelings on matters, but he was never nice for the sake of being nice. If he was telling someone something with his words, then that meant something.

“But I didn’t leave work,” Steve said weakly, trying to find the justifications for why he was a terrible boyfriend. “You’re leaving tomorrow and I didn’t leave work to see you.”

“Stevie, that’s your job. You—did I even ask you to leave work?” Eddie asked, bewildered.

“You shouldn’t have to ask me!” Steve said with no small amount of frustration. What wasn’t Eddie understanding about this? Steve wasn’t being attentive, he wasn’t thinking three steps ahead, he wasn’t reading between the lines of Eddie’s questions and requests well enough.

“So if I asked you to leave that huge mess and lose your job, you would’ve?” Eddie asked skeptically, but something must have shown on Steve’s face because Eddie’s expression faltered. “Babe, staying behind at work was fine. I’m not so needy that you should drop everything and come running to comfort me.”

“But you were upset,” Steve insisted, taking a step back out of Eddie’s hands. “You were upset and I didn’t—”

“I was upset because you sounded so miserable on the phone! I wasn’t—fuck, Steve, I’m sorry I made you feel like I was upset with you,” Eddie said, stepping forward to cup Steve’s face again. Then he added, “Yeah, I wanted to see you before I went on the worst fucking trip ever, and yeah I was sad I wouldn’t, but I was mostly sad that you were having such a shitty day.”

“I didn’t even tell you about my day, though,” Steve said, a bit dazed.

“Didn’t have to, sweetheart,” Eddie replied with a sweet smile. “You did your Headache Brewing Sigh after every sentence,” he elaborated after a moment and Steve’s heart ached at being known so deeply.

“You should be sleeping, Eds,” Steve said weakly, stepping forward into Eddie’s embrace.

“I’m not going anymore. I didn’t wanna go in the first place, so I told Wayne I’m staying home,” Eddie replied, and his arms tightened around him when Steve tried to pull away. “Don’t, you beautiful little martyr. I didn’t want to go so I’m not going. There’s nothing more to it, don’t make it about you.”

Steve felt all the fight leave his body, resting his weight more heavily against Eddie with a shaky sigh, his head dropping to Eddie’s shoulder.

“Let’s go to bed, baby,” Eddie cooed, petting his hair, but Steve shook his head.

“I just need to shower first,” he said, and he could feel Eddie nodding.

“Alright, let’s do that, then bed,” Eddie said brightly, stepping back carefully to start taking off his pajamas. When Steve opened his mouth to argue, Eddie held a finger to his lips with a playfully stern expression. “I’m taking care of you tonight, Stevie. It’ll be over quicker if you just let me.”

At that, Steve huffed a tired laugh and rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he grumbled lightly and finished undressing.

The shower took them a long time, Eddie refusing to let Steve do any of the work to wash himself off. Eddie just grabbed each bottle Steve reached for and did everything for him. At one point, Steve let out a sigh that carried a small vocalization at the end, his body finally relaxing under the hot spray of the shower and his boyfriend’s cool hands.

Eddie took that moment to drop a soft, almost distracted kiss to the back of Steve’s shoulder and the tenderness of that tiny gesture broke through something in him. With a shaky inhale, Steve turned around and wrapped his arms around Eddie, burying his face into the junction of his boyfriend’s shoulder and neck with a sigh. There were tears in Steve’s eyes again, but this time they weren’t sad.

When Eddie immediately wrapped his own arms around him, Steve kissed the skin his mouth was closest to before tipping his head back to meet Eddie’s eyes.

“I love you,” Steve confessed so quietly that the shower almost drowned him out.

Eddie heard it though, or read his lips, and his big brown eyes widened a bit. Then a grin split his face and he dropped a kiss onto Steve’s mouth. “I love you, too,” Eddie said without pulling away and Steve pressed closer to deepen the kiss again.

Standing under the steady spray of the shower, they kissed each other slow and sweet, searching even if they knew their ways around each other’s mouths. It was different now that they’d said the word they had both been thinking since the day they first kissed.

Finally, the temperature of the water began to waver and they pulled away from the kiss.

“Holy shit, so there is an end to the Harrington water heater,” Eddie marveled as they quickly finished up and turned the water off.

Once they were tucked into bed, Steve reached across the space between them to pull Eddie into his arms tightly. Eddie laughed as he settled, wrapping himself around Steve and sighing happily.

“I love you,” Steve said again, yawning.

Eddie turned his head where it rested and kissed Steve’s chest. “Love you, too, Stevie.”

[AO3 LINK]

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I hope you enjoy and please consider reblogging! Taglist! @steddie-there, @patchworkgargoyle, @scarcrossdlvrs, @indigohightide, @steddieas-shegoes, @steve-harringtits, @mylilplanet, @afewproblems, @xenon-demon, @inairbinad, @matchingbatbites

[batty4steddie]

The Christmas Cold

For day 20 of @steddiemas Sick Day/Winter Blues ❄️💙❄️ written in partnership with @spicycinnabun💙 | WC: 5,848 | Rating: T | Read, kudos or comment on ao3 💙

The week leading up to Christmas, Steve was in the middle of a Christmas cookie bake-off with his mother. He hadn’t heard from Eddie. He thought that they were going to go ice skating tonight, but Eddie sounded horrible.

Steve took the call in his bedroom. “Baby, what’s the matter?” he asked, dusting flour off his apron nervously. He was already concerned about how nasally his boyfriend sounded.

Instead of an answer, a coughing fit followed by three sneezes was all he heard. 

“Bless you,” Steve said cautiously, worried there would be another sneeze.

Eddie had really wanted to go ice skating. He’d planned to surprise Steve with a light show of illegal fireworks helpfully set off by Gareth and the boys. He also had a special gift that he was going to present to Steve at the end of it. 

That wasn’t happening now, and it was all his stupid body’s fault. 

There had been a tickle in Eddie’s throat that he had been stubbornly ignoring all week, and last night, it had finally turned into an all-out cold with bonus fever. He was so disappointed he’d ruined their Christmas date.

“Steeb, I’m sick,” Eddie eventually said after blowing his nose loudly. 

Steve held the phone away from his ear as his heart ached for him. “You sound it,” he said softly. “You need me to bring you something? Medicine? Soup? Yeah, I’ll make you some soup when I come over. We just finished baking Christmas cookies. I’ll bring you and Wayne some of those, too.”

Eddie clutched the phone, listening to his boyfriend’s angelic voice crooning in his ear. “Yes, please. Sweet aygel, sweetheart. Cub over.”

This wasn’t the first time that Eddie had called Steve an angel. It was becoming more and more of a thing. The last time Eddie had called him that, they were in a very intimate situation. Steve’s cheeks got rosy from the memory.

“I just hope I doht pass away before you get here,” Eddie added. 

Eddie was dying. When he swallowed, it felt like his throat was lined with razor blades. His eyes were red from getting no sleep (and maybe a tinybout of emotional weeping), and he was getting a cough that was steadily worsening and rattling his chest. His nostrils were absolutely fucking useless at this point, too. He couldn’t breathe out of either one, but they were simultaneously leaking like a faucet. 

He had a mountain of used Kleenex by his bed, and Wayne had even set up the Vicks vaporizer on his nightstand that was steaming away by his pathetic, puffy face.

“What?” Steve furrowed his brow in concern. What Eddie said was jarring. “Eddie? Are you there? Eddie bear, are you okay?”

Eddie thought he said a garbled see you soon and love you to Steve, but he’d actually just passed out with the phone smooshed against his cheek mid-conversation. 

Wayne eased it away and held it to his ear after wiping the receiver off on his shirt. “This is Wayne. He fell asleep.”

Steve was startled when Wayne’s voice replaced Eddie’s, but he relaxed because Wayne didn’t sound concerned. Eddie wasn’t dying. He was just being as dramatic as he normally was. “Oh.” Of course.

Eddie had fallen asleep on the phone with him before, but the last time was because they were arguing about who should hang up first. Steve had been pissed when Eddie actually fell asleep. That made him have to hang up first. Steve had given him the cold shoulder for an entire day. He was surprised he’d made it that long. Ultimately, he hadn’t been able to stand not talking to Eddie anymore, and he’d gotten over it.

This was different, though. Steve wasn’t mad. He was worried. At least Wayne was there for now.

Wayne looked at his nephew, who let out a soft, wheezing snore. He looked miserable, wearing a pout like he was eight years old again. “Appreciate you comin’ over. I gotta head to work in half an hour.” 

Eddie was an adult and would have been fine on his own, but Wayne still didn’t want his kid to be alone. It was far from his first time taking care of Eddie like this. When he was just a kiddo and he got sick, Wayne would step in since his dipshit of a brother was never there to take care of the boy. Not when he was really needed as a parent. Always conveniently missing in those times.

Steve blushed when he realized the last thing he had said was Eddie’s pet name. Had Wayne overheard that? God. “I’ll be there soon.” He rubbed his hand over his face after he ended the call.

He didn’t have long to get there before Wayne had to go to work. Steve packed an overnight bag with some clothes and toiletries. He raided the medicine cabinet for a few different cold medicines, then the pantry for various soups and flavors he thought Eddie would like.

Steve already had his date outfit picked out. He ditched the apron and put on his holiday reindeer sweater.

Before leaving, he put together two different containers of cookies so Eddie and Wayne would each have their own. They both had bad sweet tooths. 

When Steve arrived, Wayne accepted the Christmas cookies and ruffled his hair in thanks. Steve looked a little embarrassed by the gesture, blushing visibly like he did whenever Wayne did anything fatherly to him, but Wayne didn’t think he minded. From what Eddie had told him, Steve’s dad was about just as useless as Al, though in a different way. 

Wayne had two kids now. Eddie was infatuated with the Harrington boy, and that made them family. Wayne had given Steve a bit of a hard time in the beginning, protective as he was of Eddie, but it hadn’t taken him long to figure out Steve was an honest, genuine individual who cared for Eddie very much. 

“Tell your mother thank you for me,” Wayne said as he put on his coat and cap by the door. He grabbed the Tupperware and tucked it under his arm. “These are delicious.” He was taking the rest to eat during his break.

Wayne was always about a thousand times more affectionate towards him than Steve’s own dad had ever been. It still made him feel flustered whenever Wayne was warm to him.

“Promise I will,” he agreed. “Have a good night at work.”

Wayne headed out the door, and Steve went into the kitchen to drop off the cookies and cans of soup he brought. He heard Eddie's labored stuffed-up snoring while he was standing in the kitchen, so he took himself and his bag down the hallway to Eddie’s room.

Eddie’s nose looked bright red when Steve saw him, giving Rudolph a run for his money. The rest of him was even paler than usual. Steve still found him really fucking cute. His heart was fluttering like usual, though he felt bad that Eddie was so sick. 

Steve did a quick tidying of all the used tissues. Eddie’s room was even more chaotic than usual. He straightened the rest of it up, too. He just wasn’t sure what else to do. Eddie was dead asleep, and he’d never taken care of someone who was sick before. He knew that he could do it, and he wanted to. He didn’t want to disturb Eddie’s sleep either. If he was asleep, he was fine.

Once Steve was done cleaning, he carefully sat on the edge of Eddie’s bed and felt his forehead. He was burning up. Steve got up and went into the bathroom for a washcloth. He ran cold water over it to get it nice and cool before wringing it out. When he returned, he gently placed it on Eddie’s forehead in hopes of cooling the fever down some. 

Eddie had fallen into a deep doze. That was rare. He was a guy who usually slept lightly, with weird shit dreams fueled by Miss Mary Jane or nightmares that spooked him into waking. His body was getting uncomfortably hot underneath the covers, though, and as he started to sweat, he came back to consciousness. 

His eyelids fluttered when something cool landed on his forehead. It was a relief, and it made him whimper quietly. His eyes cracked open, and he saw a brown-eyed, brown-haired angel hovering over him.

“Steeby,” Eddie said, giving him a loopy smile. “You’re here.” 

“I am,” Steve said, smiling back.

Eddie was so happy to see him. He sat up even though his head was pounding, the damp cloth falling onto his lap, and held out his arms. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to be held by his gorgeous hunk in his incredibly dorky reindeer sweater. Steve would make everything better. He looked so cozy and probably smelled lovely, like warm cinnamon from the cookies and his cologne, and… 

Eddie wasn’t even going to be able to smell him. Fuck, that made him sad.

He realized something as he sat there with his arms out like an expectant toddler. He was contagious. Also disgusting. Eddie deflated, dropping them by his sides morosely. “Oh, I guess you probably doht wadda hug be right dow, huh.” Why did Eddie sound so adorable and pitiful right now?

Steve wasn’t expecting him to be so happy that he was there or to sit up so quickly. Of course he wanted a cuddle. Steve wanted to embrace him, too. He didn’t care that Eddie was sick. He just wanted to make him feel better. His face softened, and he shook his head. “Hey, no, that’s not true.” 

Steve picked up the washcloth that had fallen into Eddie’s lap and unfolded it. “You just need a little tidying. You’re still cute, though. You might have to call me Steeby when you don’t have a cold. I like it.” Steve chuckled as he gently wiped the crusty bits from Eddie’s pretty face.

It was a little embarrassing to be de-snotified. If Eddie weren’t already burning up, he’d probably blush under the gentle swipes of the cloth and equally soft teasing. It felt nice to be doted on, though. Steve was such a sweetheart. Eddie didn’t deserve him.

“I’m gonna hug the hell out of you now.” Steve put the cloth on the nightstand and then shifted Eddie to lie back.

Eddie perked up visibly at the words, letting himself be moved wherever Steve pleased as his boyfriend climbed onto the bed with him.

Steve moved to lay beside him comfortably and pulled Eddie into his arms. “I’m sorry you’re not feelin' good, baby.” 

When Steve’s arms were snug around him, and Eddie was pulled against that broad, reindeer-covered chest, he made an audible moan of happiness, nuzzling into the soft, fleecy fabric. “Oh yeah. Shit, I feel better already. Ad I’b the sorry wod, Steeb. I ruid our Christmas date.”

Eddie glanced at the door. His rented hockey skates were hanging on the doorknob by the laces, the sharp blades covered with black protectors. Steve’s present was hidden in his dresser drawer. 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You couldn’t help getting sick,” Steve told Eddie while lightly stroking his warm cheek with his thumb. “This is exactly how I wanted our date to end anyway. Us in your bed, cuddling just like this.”

‘Course, he had figured they would’ve gotten to fuck before the cuddles, but he loved being close to Eddie in any way he could be.

Eddie let out a wheezing sigh. Unfortunately, that prompted a coughing fit, which he tried to shelter Steve from by curling away as he hacked. Steve winced a little. Eddie flopped back against Steve when it was over, head-butting gently under his chin. Steve rubbed Eddie’s chest, then rested his hand over his heart.

“Did you have fud bakig with your bob?” Eddie asked.

He knew Steve had spent the afternoon in the kitchen whipping up holiday treats. Eddie was picturing Steve in a frilly little apron covered in flour, bending over to put cookies in the oven. (Mrs. Harrington was excluded from his mental picture because it wasn’t exactly an innocent one. Even being on death’s doorstep couldn’t totally fry Eddie’s libido. He couldn’t wait to feel better again so he could eat his boyfriend’s goodies. The cookies, too.)

“Yeah, of course. We listened to Christmas music, and I got to lick all of the spoons.” Steve chuckled. “I brought you some of everything we made. You don’t even have to share with Wayne. I brought him his own.” 

Eddie hated sharing. That was great news. 

“You’re such a geb, Steeby,” Eddie replied, smiling. That was a tiny hint about Steve’s Christmas gift —not that Steve would catch on. Steve’s expression said he didn’t understand what the fuck Eddie had said at all. “A diabud?” More confused lip pursing from Steve. “A precious stode?”

Eddie must’ve been delirious. Steve couldn’t make out what he was saying like he could earlier. He was trying to listen, his forehead wrinkled in concentration. He even turned his ear towards Eddie’s mouth, but none of it made sense. He was a geb, diabud and stode?

“What?” Steve asked.

Eddie sighed. Being cute wasn’t working.

“You’re the best boyfred,” he clarified. That, at least, couldn’t be misconstrued by his nasal inability to pronounce any m' s or n' s.

 “Aw.”

Steve was beyond flattered. He figured that those other things were just various compliments. The last statement, though, made his chest puff up with pride. He tried to and wanted to be a good boyfriend, but the best? Yeah, he’d take that.

“Love you,” Eddie continued in a softer tone as his eyelids grew heavy again. 

Steve smiled and managed to say that he loved Eddie back, but he wasn’t sure if Eddie had heard it. Loud, stuffed-up snoring resumed within seconds of Eddie’s eyes falling shut. 

It took a week for Eddie’s cold to ease up enough for him to do everyday things like leave the trailer. 

After he had woken up, Steve had herded him into the shower, and then mother henned him with hot soup and more cuddles. He’d taken care of Eddie even after Wayne got back and kept stopping by through the week to see him and spend time with him. 

Eddie was more than grateful because he had been so fucking bored being stuck in his bed that he had been driving himself (and Wayne) insane. He hadn’t been able to focus enough to read any of his books, and his headaches had made listening to music or playing his guitar a miserable experience. 

But he and Steve had watched many movies snuggled up on the La-Z-boy together. With the volume low, it had been perfect. Eddie was pretty sure they’d gone through Family Video’s entire catalogue. It’d also given him a lot of insight into the types of movies Steve liked (bad ones).

Unfortunately, Eddie didn’t get better as quickly as Steve thought he would. Eddie hadn’t gotten to work, play music or run campaigns. It was a real Christmas miracle that he was all better by Christmas Eve, and they could go on their much anticipated ice-skating date.

Steve had been diligent in taking care of him every night after work. He’d bring a new movie, make dinner to ensure Eddie had one good meal, and make sure he was taking his medicine. Steve had allowed him one Christmas cookie during their nightly movies.

Usually, Eddie ended up falling asleep halfway through. Steve had known by the second night that it probably hadn’t had much to do with him being sick. Steve had cackled at all the dumb and funny parts, but Eddie had seemed disinterested and had only smiled at Steve’s delight. Steve hadn’t minded.

The way Eddie had clung to him when he was sick had been different than usual. Steve liked feeling needed, and it had felt like they’d gotten even closer. That was the snuggliest Eddie had ever been with him. He had been more than earning his Eddie bear nickname. 

Eddie was excited to be outside, breathing fresh air. And while there wouldn’t be any fireworks that night, sadly, since Eddie’s boys had Christmas Eve plans of their own, some cheerful holiday music was being played from the ice rink speakers, and snow was falling, making the ground sparkle. It was acceptably romantic.

Eddie liked how the cold air made Steve’s cheeks and lips look so pink, and he had snowflakes in his hair, catching in his eyelashes. 

“You better not fucking laugh when I fall on my face,” Eddie said, giving Steve a look as he took both of his mittened hands and shuffled onto the ice like an awkward baby deer. He knew he should have practiced first. Skating was more challenging than he thought it would be.

“No falling on your face. There is a proper way to fall, and it is on your butt. Falling is par for the course,” Steve promised.

“And of course you’re perfect at skating, you talented hunk,” Eddie muttered, flailing a little when Steve let go of his hands. Steve was standing there on the ice with the same confident posture he wore on the basketball court.

Steve laughed. He’d played ice hockey growing up, so he had advanced skills, but he could teach Eddie, too. It really wasn’t that hard. “Thanks. You kind of look even more like Bambi on those skates than you normally do.”

Eddie was so cute Steve could barely stand it. He was in his leather jacket, but his appearance was softened by the fabric of his scarf, gloves and hat. Steve was beyond smitten. The light snow made it the most Christmas-y atmosphere ever.

Eddie huffed lightly. Or he would’ve if he could concentrate on anything but the frigid dancefloor his feet were slipping and sliding all over. Steve loved to compare him to cute little forest animals instead of the metal badass he was. He would admit, though, that he wasn’t doing his best impression of badassery right then. “Just watch me for a second.” Steve fell back comically to soften the blow on the ice. He smiled up at Eddie from down on his butt. “Try to fall like that. Remember, if you feel like you’re going to fall, put your hands on your knees, then fall on your butt.”

“I don’t have as much cushioning as you do,” Eddie complained. “You know my ass is ninety-five percent bone!”

Steve shifted onto his hands and knees. “Then to get up, turn over like this.” Steve winked after he got into the position. He knew Eddie could easily get on all fours since he’d done it for him.

Eddie’s eyes widened, mock scandalized. "Steven! You hussy!”

He was going to have fantasies now of them doing it doggy-style in their skates. But hey, Steve’s scarf was perfect for using like a leash…

Steve lifted a knee so one of his skate blades rested on the ice. “Put both hands on your knee and push yourself up.” Steve did that and got himself up with no problem.

“Alright, okay,” Eddie said, putting his hands on his hips and then quickly thinking better of it when that made him tip. Keeping balance, even just standing on the ice, was proving complicated.

He kept his arms out like a fool instead while he watched Steve. Eddie’s legs tensed as he slowly glided forward and almost ran into someone zipping around the rink. Since he had rented hockey skates and not figure skates, there was none of those toe-spikey things to stop him.

“To get started, you march.” Steve did a little march forward to get moving. “Once you have momentum, you can glide forward. Squeeze your butt.” Steve squeezed his cheeks as he glided along, smirking as Eddie’s eyes dipped to his ass. 

“Nice form, Coach Harrington,” Eddie teased.

“I can also show you a trick. It’s called a swizzle. Swizzling is just forming two shapes. An A and V with the skates. It’s easy and fun once you get it down.” Steve continued with the demonstration. “To go backwards, all you gotta do is wiggle your butt while doing the opposite with the skates. V then the A shape.”

Eddie appreciated the demonstration. It made him feel like less of a complete failure, and Steve was a cute teacher. He tried to focus on what Steve was saying, but it was difficult to with all the butt flexing and wiggling going on. Steve’s butt was truly a gift to the world. Eddie’s world, especially.  

Steve got to wiggling his butt and quickly made his way back to where Eddie was standing. He stopped with precision right in front of him. “Got it?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Absolutely,” Eddie responded confidently. He absolutely did not have it.

Steve took Eddie’s hands and placed them on his hips. He looked forward again and started to march like he had instructed Eddie to do when you began to skate. He smiled when he felt Eddie starting to march along with him. They went forward. “That’s right. Just like this.”

Eddie squeezed Steve’s hips as Steve led him along like a mother duck leading its duckling, barely able to feel them through the thickness of his puffer jacket. Eddie copied his movements as best as he could and grinned when they started picking up speed. It was making his heart race. It was fun.

Steve smiled, and when they began to glide together, he broke away from Eddie’s hold. He quickly picked up momentum by swizzling his way around the rink. He was confident that Eddie could do it once he wasn’t holding onto him anymore.

Eddie wasn’t totally ready for Steve to let go, but he kept up with the simple gliding and managed not to faceplant as Steve showed him his swizzle trick. It was cool to see. Steve had a lot of skill on the ice. He made it look so easy and natural.

Eddie watched in amusement as Steve turned around and came back to him, starting to skate circles around him. “Show off.” On his next pass, Eddie reached out and tried to catch him, laughing when he missed and remembering to clench so he didn’t fall. “You slippery fucker!”

When they got tired of playing, and Eddie had fallen a handful of times - not hurting himself or his bony ass thanks to Steve’s method – they got off the pond and put on their skate guards, heading over to the large, windowed pavilion with their duffle bags. It was heated inside, and there was a vending machine that sold hot coffee and hot chocolate. Eddie bought them a hot chocolate while Steve saved them a bench by one of the floor heaters.

After they removed their skates, they sat down with their styrofoam cups cupped in their hands and their woolly-socked feet toasting over the vent. Eddie watched through the windows at the other couples on the pond. He felt a pang of longing. They were all holding hands. He wished he could’ve held Steve’s hand while they’d skated, but they had to keep up the friends-only charade in public. It was bullshit.

Usually, Eddie didn’t give a crap about following societal norms even if people hated him for it, but this was a situation where he couldn’t just stick his middle finger in the air and say fuck it. Steve’s safety was on the line. Eddie had heard about what happened to homo couples on the news plenty of times.

If he showed his affection where people could see it, they could be targeted. Steve could end up hurt or worse. Eddie absolutely wouldn’t risk that, no matter how angry it made him.

Maybe if they moved to LA or the Big Apple, where people were more open-minded, they could have the luxury of being themselves, of being together for real.

So, instead of wrapping his arm around Steve’s shoulders, Eddie kept his hands to himself, but he did sit close enough that their thighs were touching. “Cold,” he said to excuse it.

Steve had so much fun showing off and skating with Eddie. They’d both fallen a couple of times and had fun chasing each other. Steve would’ve loved to hold Eddie’s hand and twirl him around. It was hard not getting to participate in the same public displays of affection he was used to, but when they were alone, it was always worth the wait.

Eddie wondered if Steve had ever done this with Nancy. He had probably held her hand. Steve had given up a lot by entering into a relationship with him. Eddie suppressed a sigh. The small velvet box in his coat felt weighted like a stone. Eddie put his hand in his pocket and wrapped his fingers around it. If he gave it to Steve, would he just be trapping him?

They had arrived at the pond pretty late, so by the time they finished their cocoas, almost everyone had gone home. Eddie was still stewing over whether or not his gift was a good idea, lost in moody silence. 

Eddie was uncharacteristically quiet as they had their cocoa and warmed up. Steve was wondering why. He saw that Eddie’s gaze was lingering on the rink. He wished that he could read his mind. He hoped that Eddie had fun. Going skating had been his idea. 

It must’ve been getting close to closing time. Steve noticed they were alone, and the soft background Christmas music had stopped. Steve squeezed Eddie’s thigh to get his attention. “Hey, do you want your Christmas present now?”

Eddie had been so disappointed when Metallica cancelled their last Indiana show because the lead singer had broken his wrist the day of. When Steve had heard there was a chance to win tickets and backstage passes to their show in the new year on the radio, he’d kept it tuned to the rock station while he’d worked. He’d even roped Robin into using the store’s second line just so he could get through. Due to his dumb luck and fast fingers, he had been caller number twenty.

Eddie’s frown smoothed out, and he turned towards Steve with a soft smile. “Yeah,” he said, touched that Steve had bought him something. Steve quickly unzipped his coat and pulled out a thick red envelope. He handed it over with a nervous smile. He’d written Eddie’s name on the outside. The I of Eddie had been dotted with a heart. Inside was a cute Christmas card representing the nickname he’d used tonight, and the tickets and passes he’d won were tucked inside it. Under them was a short and sweet message: Merry Christmas, baby! Love, Stevie

He bit down on his lower lip while Eddie opened the envelope, then laughed happily when Eddie immediately fawned over the deer.

“This is so fucking cute,” Eddie told him.

“Yeah, that’s you,” Steve agreed. His smile grew when Eddie opened the card, and the actual present came into view. Eddie’s expression turned from disbelief to pure delight. 

There were sparkles in Eddie’s eyes as he lifted the tickets and read them. The card had been enough itself. It was the sweetest thing, and Eddie would keep it forever. But these —tickets!!!  

“Oh my god! Steve! ” Eddie threw his arms around Steve, hugging him tightly. He didn’t even think to look around and make sure the pavilion was empty first. “This is so fucking cool, sweetheart, thank you so much. I can’t wait to go with you.” 

Eddie’s reaction was better than Steve could’ve imagined. He was thrilled when Eddie yelled and instantly pulled him into a hug. Steve squeezed him back and smiled so big that it hurt.

Eddie was grinning when he pulled back in a way that he was sure looked completely fucking manic, but he had been positive he wasn’t going to be seeing Metallica any time soon. Especially after he’d been stiffed his refund for the last cancelled show. “How did you get these?” 

As far as he knew, the show had already been sold out for a few weeks. His jaw dropped when Steve told him he’d won them over the radio. “Are you serious? I tried calling in all afternoon!” Eddie yelled, taking Steve’s shoulders and shaking him playfully. He laughed. “I was so mad! I had to stop because I had to go to work. I didn’t get to hear the winner.” 

Steve laughed, too. He felt a little woozy from being squeezed and shaken up, especially after consuming the hot chocolate. It was so comical that they both had been calling. Luckily, Steve had already been at work, and it was a good thing Eddie hadn’t heard that a guy from Hawkins had won.

Eddie laughed to himself again, rubbing the tickets between his fingers like they were made of pure gold. His smile shrank a little as that reminded him of the ring. 

He swallowed hard, his hands starting to tremble and sweat. He was excited but nervous. He had his fears about the future of their relationship, but his fears were more founded on how the world outside the two of them would try to break them apart. Steve was his person, his soulmate.Eddie felt that so strongly, with all his heart, that it was terrifying as much as it was thrilling. He hoped Steve felt the same way about him. That he wanted Eddie for real, for keeps.

“I got you something, too.” Eddie carefully tucked the tickets back into the card, hand going to his pocket again. He pulled out the velvet box, watching Steve’s face. His heart was pounding so hard Steve could probably hear it. 

He wasn’t proposing —it wasn’t fucking legal, for one - but for how serious he felt, he may as well have been down on one knee. 

They hadn’t planned on exchanging gifts that night or at least hadn’t said they were. Steve had thought they might. That was why he’d brought the tickets, but hearing that Eddie had something for him, too, made him flush a little. He wasn’t used to receiving gifts. He loved giving more, and of course, his parents had gotten him nice things because they could, but he’d worked for everything he had now.

Eddie seemed nervous. He was shaking like a little leaf, but his hand steadied when he pulled the gift out. 

Steve instantly knew it was a jewelry box. His mind went to the necklace Eddie had given him, and he smiled. It hadn’t come in a box like this, but Eddie had put it on him one night when they were lying in bed, and he hadn’t taken it off since.

Eddie popped the little clasp with his thumb, and the box opened, revealing a yellow-gold band with a small square sapphire in the center. It was the most extravagant thing he’d ever purchased. He’d done everything he could to save up for it. He’d even borrowed some money from Uncle Wayne (which he’d tried to refuse multiple times, but Wayne hadn’t let him). 

Steve’s mouth dropped open. He couldn’t believe Eddie was giving him a ring. An incredibly beautiful and expensive-looking ring. 

“I really love you, Steve. I don’t want to be with anyone else. I only want to be with you, and I’ve known that for a while now.” Eddie’s voice was low and thick with emotion. “This ring symbolizes my loyalty and commitment to you. And… it would be an honor if you would accept it.” 

Eddie didn’t take the ring out of the box or say it would make him the happiest man alive, although it would. The last thing he wanted to do was guilt Steve into wearing it.

Despite most signs pointing to Steve accepting, Eddie was still braced for a rejection. Since it was Steve – the big sweetheart - it would be a gentle one, at least. Steve would be logical. Maybe he’d say it was too soon, that they hadn’t been dating long enough to really know they wanted each other for the long haul. They were going steady, but they weren’t promise ring steady yet, and that was okay, but now just wasn’t the time.

Life, after all, rarely went the way you wanted it to. Eddie had experienced more than his share of letdowns through the years. It hadn’t stopped him from being naïve as hell, hadn’t stopped him from continuously being the idiot who got his hopes up, who wished and waited, even when the odds were laughably slim.

But Steve wasn’t like his dad, and Steve wasn’t someone who saw him as nothing but his last name. Steve wasn’t using him or blackmailing him. Steve saw the real him, the real Eddie, and still wanted to be around him. Wanted him for the right reasons and not because he just needed something from him.

They were already going steady, but Steve listened to what Eddie had to say. It felt like he was going to melt. His cheeks got even rosier, and his eyes started to sting really bad. “Eddie, I love you too. I want that, too. I’m never going to take it off,” he promised as he took it out of the box and put it on.

Steve wasn’t rejecting him. Eddie was a little horrified when Steve’s eyes got glassy and filled with tears until he spoke, and Eddie realized they were happy tears and Steve was putting on his ring, saying everything Eddie had hoped to hear.

Steve wasn’t sure how, but it fit perfectly on his ring finger. Steve let a couple of tears fall as he looked at it, then took his ring-clad hand, cupped Eddie’s face with it and kissed him.

Eddie could feel the cool metal of the ring on his cheek, a stark contrast to the warmth of Steve’s palm. It sent a bolt of emotion zinging through Eddie. Steve was wearing his ring! Steve wanted him! Steve loved him! Those thoughts twirled in Eddie’s head like a carousel as Steve kissed him. Of course, Steve had told him he loved him already more than a few times, but this cemented it. Eddie kissed him back tenderly, sparks flying behind his closed eyelids.

Not even a mountain of perkies could give Eddie the feelings he was experiencing now. He felt like he was a million miles up in the sky, like his heart was too big for his chest and it would explode.

Eddie reached up to brush away the tears leaking from Steve’s eyes. Tears of happiness. When they broke apart, Eddie pulled Steve’s hand off his cheek and kissed his palm, warming the ring with his lips. His smile was as bright as the lights as he lowered Steve’s hand and cradled it between his own. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

[mariatesstruther]

okay more on jackson’s senior center based off this post:

- it started as just miss shirley and her best friend darla wanting to live together and asking maria if she could maybe find a house for them to settle in together instead of living apart

- before this, mama shirley and darla would have to walk five houses each way to see each other for afternoon tea, which just won’t do. mama shirley is 92 and darla is 90 now, and both of them are too old to be have to walking that much everyday, mama shirley tells maria. she quickly and vehemently agrees

- maria has the idea of fixing a house up for jackson’s senior citizens to live in if they’d like to. it takes a lot of unnecessary convincing to get the council to dedicate one of jackson’s best houses to a maximum of five people, but maria gets it done. they pick one of the few houses that are placed in the farther back part of jackson, near the farm and the daycare center, so that it can be far-reaching from the entrance of jackson

- the first people to movie in are shirley and darla, who share a room on the second floor (thanks to tommy replacing the stairs in the house with a reliable ramp with a wall-attached handlebar)

- gary moves in not long after he breaks his left hip while herding the goats. he likes that the house is designed to be wheel-chair access and far away from most people in town. he also likes it because he can be close to darla, who he has feelings for, but nobody knows about that except for tommy and joel

- mr. wilson moves in on maria’s insistence that he’ll get hurt if he continues to live alone and try to do everything himself. his name is harold, but he insists that anyone younger than him calls him mr. wilson on account of maintaining a respectful distance. he’s a grumpy, gruff old asshole that reminds joel more of bill than bill himself, but he’s also known to do anything and everything maria tells him with only a small amount of grumbling. somehow, she convinces him to move in after he accidentally sets his kitchen on fire trying to make himself a pocketknife (which?????? maria still doesn’t have an answer for????? why harold was trying to do that????)

- last but not least is sandra dee, jackson’s oldest and most enigmatic member. nobody really knows where she came from or what her story is: she’s the only one of jackson’s seniors that managed to get to town on her own, arriving to town at 94 about a year after its founding with nothing but a backpack and three handguns. she clamed to be sandra, but they’re not entirely sure if sandra dee is her real name. she hums songs from musicals all the time and has expressed that grease was always her favorite. at least once a month she requests to go hunting with patrol and gets mad when maria tells her no

- senior center tea: shirley and darla have longstanding beef with sandra dee because she always cheats at cards during game night, shirley knows about gary being sweet on darla but is lowkey jealous about it because SHE is sweet on darla, and everyone thinks mr. wilson has a thing for maria but he actually told her in confidence last month that he is actually sweet on gary. mama shirley and mr. wilson can’t STAND each other

- tommy calls the seniors the jackson five. all of them call him thomas. he and joel bring them all basic living supplies at least once a week, but are known to be around there pretty often

tsym for anyone having interest in this pls feel free to add anything u want!!

tagging :))) @clickergossip @nerdieforpedro @mrsmando @callmekittenandyourmajesty @steeb-stn (ty for the idea of putting it next to the daycare!) @thatoneobsessedlinguist-writes

[akioukun]

Other Alexa play The Wild Boys by Duran Duran

-

The other king of Hawkins, Steeb. The other half of this can be seen here with King Billy

Been sick and busy so I’m so slow rn makes me mad. I have so much to post

Process!

[stucky-headcanon-bot]

A lot of times it feels like stuckies look @ how all of marvel has re-relegated Bucky into obscurity, internalize it, and enthusiastically support it no matter how OOC and irrelevant it goes against their characters and/or the core story

Like..... stuckies saw how Bucky got backgrounded despite starring as title character of the one(1) solo Cap feature that got mainstream success and started spewing "omg Bucky is so tirwed he dont wanna fwight hes so wetired owld man. he should fwite bad guys or pick up shield or be on the frontlines or nothin. wucky should just stay in his hut during everythin and only be there to convince steeb to stwop fwighting too. he & Steve are gonna stay out of evewythin and not fight to save the worwld theyre just tiwed swleepy babiez not hewoes at awll uwu" takes that completely ignore that Bucky is meant to be a superhero to retroactively justify Bucky's story arc+development & his telegraphed deuteragonist->protagonist story installments getting completely dropped like a rock after 2014 once he started getting treated like the comic relief's sidekick, despite these same ppl spewing these takes also nominally acting like they're dissatisfied w canon...

it feels like most stuckies were perfectly fine with the most basic of characterization being ignored and gladly built this communal headcanon of "bucky's a loser unheroic coward who's too chickenshit to go outside, only exists for making jokes about him being just off-screen of all of steve's scenes, and whose only purpose is to eventually turn steve into an unheroic coward too who doesnt care to save the world and just stays home to live a bland domestic life" and were only mad that those headcanons got interrupted by steve de fact dying. that's why i've stopped believing dyed-in-the-wool stuckies when they complain abt marvel's treatment of the characters. if anything, stuckies by and large signalled to marvel that they dont particularly care abt steve & bucky continuously getting more and more OOC, nor care abt catws' storyline never getting it's sequel, nor care abt s & b's potential development continuously getting squandered. if anything, endgame's final nail in the coffin of de-heroizing and/or sidekick-ifying the characters is the logical conclusion of accepting any and everything to keep pushing 'just sitting at home/the hut doing nothing while the events of every movie happens' headcanons that encompasses the wilting imagination of 99% of the shippers.

Anon I'm glad you sent this the same day I found this image

[bucky-boychik-barnes]

Do Pockets have their own little language? Like, I've seen that in a lot of art they only seem to say their own name, but does it mean something? Also, are humans the only beings to get Pockets or are they an interstellar thing? Like, can any sapient species get one, or do they only get them if they're about to bond with a human, like Thor and Gamora with Jane and Quill?

First off, thank you so much for asking about Thor/Jane and Gamora/Quill, because it opened a world of amazing headcanons I didn't know about yet. Since I have answered the language questions in other asks, I am gonna focus on the last questions first.

So only Humans can have Pockets - they are not found among any other known species in the universe. I'm honestly not sure how much they are known in other parts of the universe, I have not paid enough attention to MCU since they ventured into Space to know how much is generally Known about humans.

So that means that Thor has a Pocket Jane, but Jane does not have a Pocket Thor. From what I remember of the Thor movie, add Pockets to something from Human society that Jane has to (awkwardly) explain to Thor and what that means. And Thor's absolute delight at Pockets in general, but also the fact that he HAS ONE. He's so fucking happy. (Please someone write it, I'll love you forever.) I think Pocket Jane's name is also Jane because "What else would her name be?" as Thor asks.

MOVING ONTO GAMORA AND QUILL, oh my god this makes my heart so happy to think about it. I think Gamora has a Pocket-Quill show up for her between the first and second GotG movies - and the thing is, nobody in the group knows what a Pocket even *is*.

Gamora: "Quill, what the fuck is this? WHY the fuck is this?"

Drax: "I'll do you one better - who the fuck--"

Quill: "IT'S OBVIOUSLY ME, JACKASS"

Gamora is mad that the thing can apparently defy physics and can't be contained, and wants to know what is going on, and then gets more angry when Quill doesn't know. Quill VAGUELY remembers Pockets, but he thought they were a dream, because Yondu said it sounded fake and he had never seen one while traveling in space. Rocket suggests just shooting Pocket Quill if it's such a big deal, which Gamora does not like but can only verbalize as "IF ANYONE IS SHOOTING IT, IT WILL BE ME."

Meanwhile Baby Groot and Pocket Quill are just vibing while everyone else is arguing about this. Eventually it turns into GotG 1.5: The Quest for Information About Pockets. Maybe 25% of the information they find is Accurate, with the other 75% being either plain wrong (like if anything happens to Pocket Quill, Actual Quill will get hurt) or just extremely overblown and dramatic (like Gamora and Quill being linked for life and now they can't die alone.)

I want to write it, but again, if anyone else is inspired, please take it away.

To circle back to your first questions about Pocket language, this sadly will not have as in depth of an answer! Pockets have a universal language that they all can communicate with and understand - it is a happy, babbly, squeaky sounding sort of language that is reminiscent of Simlish. As for human languages, Pockets can understand the native languages of their soulmate and their person, and also learn to say mono-syllabic words in those languages. 

(Steeb knows the word 'Fuck' and Bucky hates/loves it depending on the situation. Booky has absolutely learned to say 'Steve' in the same tired, exasperated way Bucky does.)

[plistommy]

Steve tries that ’Bad Steve’ tactic with the puppy eyes at Billy like he did for Nancy when the other gets irritated with him, but instead of Billy letting him off easily, he smirks down at him and says deeply ”Yeah, you’ve been a bad boy, Steve…”

Steve knew he was screwed the second he had seen that look on Billy’s face. The look that let him know he wouldn’t be able to sit well the next day.

[moralmortal]

not to be like That on main but ive never seen a moment capture more potent Pretty Boy Himbo energy than this right here

[viggos-mortensen]

unpopular opinion, but the russo brothers and markus & mcfeely should have been stopped after tws.

[bonky-n-steeb]

as the sea loves

— bruce wayne x housekeeper! reader

summary || your life takes a turn when you see something you shouldn’t have.

warnings || SMUT. unprotected sex, blowjob. mentions of wounds and blood. PWP — MINORS DNI

I have decided to not do taglists anymore, so if you wished to be notified of my newest updates please follow @bonky-n-steeb-lib and turn on the notifications!

this is the first time I’ve written Bruce and I’m loving it already and I hope you like it just as much :)

“Mr. Wayne, would you like…” you stopped mid sentence when you took in the sight in front of you. You had entered the room after giving a small knock and had wanted to ask what he would like for dinner. But then you saw Bruce, or more precisely batman.

The billionaire was sitting on his expansive bed in the batman suit, with its helmet in his hand. His eyes were covered in black smudged eyeliner which made the blue of his eyes stand out distinctly. His hair was a mess as the long strands were grimy and wet.

“You… you’re batman?” You couldn’t stop the question from spilling from your lips. He scoffed as if there was no point hiding it from you anymore as the truth was out. You were sure it was a mistake that he was in his bedroom in this gear, but now that you had seen it, there was no going back.

You wouldn’t ever have thought even in your wildest dream that the man you worked for would be the face behind the masked vigilante. Though you had seen a few scars on Bruce’s body before, you didn’t ever question them.

But now that you knew his identity, suddenly his odd behaviour started making sense. The unusual late night hours spent working, the absence from important meetings, the tiredness and the grumpy behaviour; it all fell into place.

Seeing the batman up close for the first time, your eyes trailed over his huge body and the way the suit fitted him perfectly. You were in an awe, but then you saw the blood trickling down from his fingers. Upon closer look, you noticed it was a cut on his palm of his hand.

“Oh god…” you walked closer to him and all while, he was just silently watching you, just like he usually did. “Let me look at that.” Before bruce could either agree or deny, which you were sure was most likely the latter, you took his hand in yours.

The cut was a little deep and needed bandage to stop the blood. “Give me a minute,…” you said as you went to fetch the first aid kit. Being the house keeping staff, you knew more about the house than Bruce himself probably did, so it didn’t take you much time to locate the kit.

Bruce was still silent as you wiped the wound clean with an antiseptic and you took as a signal to go ahead. He willingly held his palm open as you wrapped it in white bandage. Once it was done, Bruce ran his thumb over the cotton before speaking in a raspy voice,

“Call me Bruce.”

~~~

“It’s not your fault.” You firmly stated. “It is my fault! They got away unscathed when I could’ve caught them.” He shouted, which was very much unlike his usual personality, but you understood the toll it took on him.

Today, some goons had slipped away and Bruce didn’t like it one bit. He was irritable and mad it himself for letting them go. “Both of us know that you can’t possibly catch all of them. And remember, there’s always the next night. You can go after them then.”

That somehow deflated Bruce’s anger and he sat back on the bed. From the day you got in on Bruce’s secret, it was now a tradition for you to patch him up whenever he was hurt. He even showed you his batcave and you were thoroughly impressed.

Honestly, knowing all these secrets was well above your pay grade, but you didn’t mind it at all. You loved listening to Bruce and Alfred try to solve the crimes together and sometimes, you too gave in your two cents.

Right now, he had showered and was in his sweatpants and his naked torso was gleaming in the lights. “Will you let me look at your wounds?” He gave a pert nod at your question and you began patching him up.

“I’m sorry for shouting at you.” He said as he looked at you with apologetic eyes. No matter what, Bruce was a good man at heart and it was such moments that it shone through. You placed your hand reassuringly on his, “It’s okay.”

His shoulder had taken some bullets tonight and though they didn’t pierce the batsuit, they left behind some blunt trauma. Unless the injury was severe Bruce didn’t think going to a doctor was necessary as it might out him, so he settled with you.

You admired his corded muscles as you sat too close to him to look at purpled skin near his collarbone. You were intently rubbing the salve into his skin when you felt Bruce’s breath ghost right over your face.

When you looked up, you realised how close your face was to his. You saw the way his eyes lingered on your lips a little too long before looking back into your eyes. There was this small voice in your head telling you to move back, but you couldn’t.

The air between you was suddenly thick and you could see the moment when he bent down and pressed his lips to yours. You had imagine this a hundred times in your head and yet the reality was much better.

His lips were surprisingly soft as they molded against yours. The kiss was sweet and gentle, almost as if he was asking for permission. You placed your hands on his strong jaw before swiping your tongue over his lips.

You didn’t know if you imagined it, but you felt him smile into the kiss before opening his mouth and letting you in. You felt his hands settle on your waist before moving down to your hips. You lost yourself into the kiss and you didn’t even realise when you ended up straddling his lap.

When you two parted from the kiss, you could see the subtle change in his eyes. His eyes were filled with lust and blown wide, with only the blue rim visible. You once again pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips, “Let me take care of you.”

His wet lips parted when you gently pushed him down into the soft bed. You ran your hands on his abs before pressing your lips to his collarbones. You kissed his scars and cuts as you made your way down to his Adonis belt from his collarbones.

You saw Bruce close his eyes shut and let out a deep contended sigh when you opened the zipper of his pants. You pulled down his slacks and briefs and gawked at his naked frame.

His cock was long and girthy and leaking at the tip with precum. You licked your lips as you curled your hand around his hot length and gave a little pull. You heard him hiss through his teeth when you started jerking him off.

His hands curled into the covers when you placed your mouth on the tip and sucked. Your tongue licked the head and teased his slit and you heard him make a choked off groan. These sounds he was making were more arousing than you’d thought.

You took him as deep as you could and kept pumping your hand around the remaining length. Your movements were gentle and soft, because you knew that’s what Bruce needed. Being batman and facing the dark side of humans every night was a hard task, and if he wanted something soft to hold onto, you’d be as gentle as you could.

His fingers were opening and clutching the bed covers again and again as if he wanted to touch you but didn’t. You looked up in his eyes as you kept up your ministrations and placed your hand on his. He was quick to weave your fingers with his and hold your hand tightly.

You laved your tongue over the throbbing veins on the underside of his cock. You smiled as much as you could when you heard him let out a curse at your actions. You kept on sucking and bobbing your head over his hard length until he pulled you off.

You gasped for breath and he was quick to use his strength to pull you up until you were straddling his lap. His fingers started unbuttoning your uniform and halfway through he got impatient and tore the rest of the buttons.

You moaned as the action was strangely erotic and didn’t waste much time and discarding the rest of your clothes. His hands settled on your hips and squeezed as you placed yourself over his hard length.

You were dripping wet after blowing him and you rubbed yourself over his cock making it wet with your slick and spit. You lined yourself over his cock and you both moaned when you sank down slowly. Your hands rested over his chest as you breathed in and relished in the delicious stretch of his cock.

Your mouth flew open with soundless moans as you started moving your hips over his. His cock was rubbing all the right spots and your eyes nearly rolled back in your head. Your rhythm was slow, but Bruce needed more. He held your hips in a tight grip and started thrusting up in you.

Seeing him take the lead made you drip with arousal around his length as he fucked into you. His thrusts were hard as he looked up at your with hooded eyes, the blue irises peering through his dark eyelashes. You bent down to press a kiss to his open lips and he reciprocated back with fervour.

You held yourself up on your arms as you kissed him before nibbling on the column of his neck. You then soothed it with your tongue and nearly preened when you saw the mark you left behind. Seeing your mark on his neck made a possessive feeling flare up inside you.

You squealed out when he flipped you over such that you were laying beneath him. He didn’t stop thrusting into you and your toes curled as he started going harder and deeper. You held onto his shoulders as he fucked you into the mattress and you were sure your nails would leave marks there too.

“I.. fuck!.. I just need…” Bruce grunted out almost as if he was pained. “I need you.” Your legs fell wider than before as he somehow started going even harder. The fact that you made him lose his control was sending you on a power trip.

He was fucking you hard as if he couldn’t get enough of you, and that was what made you cum. You clenched down on his length as electric tremors passed in your body from your toe to your hands. You clutched him tightly as you writhed underneath him.

Bruce growled in your ear as he came deep inside you. Your legs trembled with the feeling of his hot cum fill you. You both melted into the bed, nearly boneless, as you twitched with the aftershocks.

“Are you okay?” Bruce asked nearly hesitantly. “I’m good,.. really good.” You chuckled and Bruce smiled along with you. Though he looked rugged handsome when moody, he looked really pretty when he smiled. You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, and neither did Bruce. But at least tonight, you had found your peace in each other.

[infictionalwonderland]

Marvel characters with stripper s/o !

warnings : mentions of nudity, obviously stripping & pole dancing etc, lotta sexual shit bby, protectiveness, fem reader

characters included : tony, nat, steve, thor, bucky, sam, wanda

anthony —

mad protective

offers to literally pay for your well.. everything so you don’t have to work

but if you say you like your job and you want to continue working, he won’t push

he’ll respect your decision

i don’t think he’d come to your work place because he just wouldn’t be able to handle seeing other people thirst over his girl

major respect for you tho

cause pole dancing requires A LOT of strength plus the heels and everything

damn

definitely makes you were some of your skimpy stripper sets in the bedroom babe

and those high high heels

yea those too

if anyone ever talks bad about you bc of your career, it’s on fucking sight

death to all of them ☺️☺️☺️

always asks if you’re okay when you come back home cuz he knows how pple can be

fuck he was that person

but ultimately, just thinks you’re hot as shit babe <3

natalia —

i don’t know why but i feel like she knows how to pole dance as well

so it can be like a bonding experience 🤪

she doesn’t like the idea of people staring at what’s hers, and hers only, but she respects your decision

came to the strip club you work at once and ended up almost killing everyone that looked at you so she never went back

but

she did make you put your skills to use for something else

thinkin’ bout people looking at you while youre practically half naked makes her blood boil but when thinking bout you half naked on a pole makes her horny

so it’s a mix of emotions 😭

i feel like she would get a pole dancing pole but in her room or something and make you give her a private show

and perhaps

perhaps

if you’re lucky enough she’ll give you one back.

steeb —

😮😮😮😮

is like woah, and even more woah when he finds out just how much money you make

obviously doesn’t like it

flushes bright red whenever he’s reminded, bc of the images of you floating around his mind

doesn’t make any comments about it and tries to ignore the fact ( not out of shame, just cuz he flusters easily )

can get pouty at times

like when you’re about to go out for work sometimes he picks up the courage to say ‘you can stay home and give me a show, not them’

will whine

is really worried about people’s behaviour towards you at work!

immediately makes sure you’re okay as soon as you step in the door after work, looks you over for any physical sign of distress

if someone makes any sort of judgemental comment, bby is stepping up immediately

just supportive and flustered, as a whole <3

thor —

you’ll have to explain the job to him beforehand

but then he’s just extremely intrigued

asks you to show him your talents and what you do when you’re at work

is like 😮😍☺️🤩 thats my girlfriend guys, when you show him your pole dancing skills

genuinely so impressed with you

doesn’t see anything wrong with your career in the slightest

though if he does happen to stop by and see how the people react to you...

⚡️🌩⛈⚡️🌩⛈

trusts you completely without a doubt, he just doesn’t trust the people of midgard

‘if anyone troubles you, lady y/n, shout for help and i will hear you even if i am to be across midgard’

or something like that 😭

will unabashedly talk about your profession if asked

your biggest defender & supporter <33

bucky —

‘damn’

might drool a little ;)

then the fucking jealousy hits

and he just cannot get over the fact people get to see what’s his and his alone

expect some comments- tho all with purely heartfelt intentions

might catch him trying to convince the strip club owner to close it down

& he might.. jokingly.. suggest you get of on his metal arm cuz you like dancing on metal so much

he has a thing for your stripper heels too, and the outfits 😩😩😩

knock the fucking wind out of him

considers getting a stripper pole in your bedroom or summin so you can give him a show

all for education purposes ofc :)

checks how much money you make in a night and sees if it’s enough for his girl

if it’s not, he’ll have you do a show and give you the appropriate tips he knows you deserve

sam —

‘damn girl’

honestly is immediately turned on as images of you on a pole in slutty outfits fill his mind 😩

but then he’s like hold up-

people get to see you do that

half pouts & half glares at nothing at this realisation

has you give him lap dances and while you’re doing it he’ll brag that he has you doing it for free bc you’re all his

hands on your ass, ‘this is mine’ then a prolonged double boob squeeze ‘these are mine too’

checking you for any hand marks etc as soon as you walk through the door

making sure your shift went okay

and making sure that you’re okay

has you take selfies in your outfits before you go on

videos are acceptable and more than welcome, as well

wanda —

just raises an eyebrow at you at first

she could literally read your mind; she already knew

she would have said something to you if she felt it necessary but it’s not like she would ask you to quit, your body your choice & your life your choices

honestly thinks it’s attractive

thinking about you pole dancing in the sluttiest little bikini makes her wet

a fantasy of hers is you giving her a private show tbh

those outfits tho 😩😩

she cannot get over them.

the thought of people staring at you lustfully does make her slightly homicidal but we move

jumps at any opportunity to see you in action.. just, in private

the muscle you’ve gained from your job does turn her on quite a bit

has her way with you after work & presses kisses all over ur body to remind you that you’re hers :)

[barnesafterglow]

✒️: “ you’ve never kissed anyone before? “ with Steeb pweaseeee 🥺💖💖

JKSAHDK i loved this so much wtf?? steve is my baby

bookish sleepover

-

last first kiss

pairing: steve x reader

word count: 666

warnings: drunk steve n reader, implication of past stucky

Your knees knocked against Steve’s on the small loveseat. You could still hear the booming bass from the party just a floor below you, but you were content to sit there next to him all night.

It was a typical Saturday at the tower - Tony throwing a party simply because he could. The only difference was Thor was on world and he brought a present for Steve: Asgardian liquor.

“This is the first time I’ve been drunk since the serum,” he said, blue eyes a little glossy. You held your own drink in your hand, though your attempts to smuggle a sip of his had been thwarted every time; that was probably for the best - anything that could get Steve drunk was sure to put you on your ass.

“That, my friend, is a sad thought.” You winced a little, calling him your friend while secretly wishing you could be so much more.

“There’s a lot of things I haven’t done since the serum. Or at all.”

“Like what?” you asked, and a blush spread across his face. Now you were more curious than ever about what he was thinking.

“Uh, you know, the usual things. Haven’t had a good home cooked breakfast.” You hummed, making it clear that you knew that wasn’t what he was originally referring to, but you let him have it.

“None of those girls you’ve brought home have cooked you breakfast? You need to find some better dates.”

“I haven’t done that either. Brought any girls home. Or done anything else, for that matter.” He looked so embarrassed and you felt mad for bringing it up. You had just assumed that anyone who looked like that wouldn't have any problem bringing his dates back to the Tower. “I’ve practically been a saint since I came out of the ice. My ma would be proud.”

Normally, you would end the conversation there, but your tipsy brain had even less of a filter than usual.

“You haven’t even kissed anyone since you got out?”

“That’s one of the things that’s not exclusive to the serum.” His face was bright red, you were sure if you were just a few inches closer you could feel the heat radiating from him. You wondered for a moment if he would be telling you any of this without the aid of the enhanced liquor.

“You’ve never kissed anyone before?”

“Unless you count me and Buck practicing back in the 30s, which I’m sure he wouldn’t.” There was history there you were sure he didn’t want to get into, so you pressed forward on the other issue - the one you were hoping he might let you help out with.

“I mean, I could help you with that, if you want.” You tried to sound casual, like you hadn’t imagined the way his lips would feel on yours since the day you met him.

You hadn’t realized, but one of you had moved, and you were now pressed together on the couch, not even an inch of space separating your bodies.

“I don’t- I mean, you don’t have to,” he mumbled, clearing under the impression you were doing this out of pity. He hung his head, not meeting your eyes.

“Steve,” you whispered, cupping his face and bringing it up to look at you. “I can’t possibly tell you how much I want to.”

Slowly, timidly, he leaned forward, until his nose bumped against yours, lips brushing just a little. When you finally felt the pressure of his kiss, you melted into him.

He pulled away, foreheads pressed together, and huffed a small laugh.

“That’s better than I remember.”

“Yeah?” You tried to come off teasing, but your voice betrayed every ounce of love you had for him. Rather than dwell on it, you let him pull you into his lap. His hands rested respectfully on your waist as he kissed you again, and even as the music below you swelled, there wasn’t any place you would rather be.