#soft steve

[italiansteebie]

steve harrington has a bad habit.

he takes in the dogs and cats no one wants anymore.

he's had elderly dogs, disabled cats, puppies that have grown and lost their sparkle, kittens that had been left in the dumpster. he's taken dogs that families can't handle anymore, and he does it with love. he uses his parents huge house to home animals that deserve it, animals that fill the emptiness.

so what happens after vecna is all said and done, and eddie's dead and gone, and a mangy dog crawls out from under eddie's old trailer while steve's there helping max do some minor repairs? and what happens when steve takes the dog home, names him ozzy, curtsy of eddie taking up every inch of his brain, and nurses the skinny thing back to health, along with the other strays he's taken in.

but ozzy never really liked to be around the other animals, always choosing to curl up next to steve, and maybe it was because he knew how much bigger he was than all of them because, damn. ozzy was a big ass dog.

until one night, steve shoots out of bed, drenched in sweat, chest heaving as he's recovering from a nightmare, and he catches a glimpse of none other than eddie. eddie, who's supposed to be dead. eddie who's supposed to be dead in the upside down, nonetheless, peering at him through his doorway. "what the fuck," he breaths, watching as eddie flinches nervously, "surprise," the metal head cheers flatly.

"what the fuck."

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #shape shifter #werewolf eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #pre steddie #werewolf eddie #shape shifter eddie munson #silly steddie thing #caretaker steve harrington #soft steve harrington #soft steve #steve has nightmares

[navnae]

Every time Eddie goes out to practice with his band, in his guitar case there’s always these cute little notes written from Steve wishing him nothing but the best and good luck with his session. That gives Eddie so much motivation to practice as hard as he can and sometimes he jots the things that Steve has written on those notes into his own journal for their next song. One day it catches Steve off guard when he’s at work and he leaves briefly to the back to help Robin with putting away some containers. When he comes back out there’s a note on the counter and he’s taken aback by how he couldn’t hear the store door make any noise. Steve picks up the note and blushes immediately as he realized exactly who wrote the note.

You are amazing. I just thought you should know. <3 - E.M.

Steve’s heart started to pound just by reading the note and with a smile he slipped it into his pocket then went back to work with a little pep in his step. Both of them continue to give each other these cute notes right before they got out anywhere and now it’s become a tradition for them.

#steddie #soft eddie #soft Steve #they’re so cute #so sweet #I love them #the cutest #they’re couple goals #couple goals #soft boys #this is just too cute #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie headcanon #steddie hcs #steve x eddie #idk what else to tag #help lol #please #come on #manifesting #power #so cuuuute #lmaooooooo #that is so funny #wow #hmmmmm #omfg #i know what you are

[raccoonsandrangoons]

Stumblin’ In

✼ Steve accepts a job as a preschool teacher. You stumble into his classroom running late to pick up your daughter.

✼ A/N : it’s been over a year since I’ve published anything but Steve holds a special place in my heart and I just had to write this for him. Named after my favorite selfship song because what else is fanfic but self indulgence?

✼ 1.7k words

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For years now, it was just you and your daughter, Jubilee, living in a trailer down the road from Eddie and your sister.

Her father left the moment he found out about her, scaring you away from any further thoughts of romance. But your sweet little Jubilee was enough for you.

Being a single mom was tough, but you refused to let your sister and Eddie help too much. You already felt like an emotional burden on your sister, and you didn’t want to burden her too much when she’s already taking care of Wayne (a work injury has him taking an early retirement).

Wayne, sweetheart as he is, always insisted that you’re no burden. You and your little one were as much as family as Eddie and your sister.

“She helps ease the day when Eddie and ya sister are out,” Wayne always said.

A soft sigh left your lips and you looked at Wayne as your daughter ran around the front yard.

“I told you,” Wayne said, leaning back into his chair with his hands behind head. “I didn’t like that boy you brought to the wedding. Said he was bad news.”

“I should’ve listened to you, Uncle Wayne,” you said. “But then we wouldn’t have her, would we?”

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Steve loves his job. He never would imagine that he would ever be a preschool teacher, but he wouldn’t change it for anything. Really, he’s a daycare employee, but he’s in the preschool room, so he would consider himself a preschool teacher.

He had gotten the job on recommendation from Robin, the middle school band director. After Robin went off to college and came back a certified music teacher and Steve was still at Family Video, she said there was an opening for preschool at childcare not far from Hawkins schools.

“I know it’s not what you ever thought of, but you’re really good with kids,” Robin said. “I mean, look at Dustin!”

“Henderson’s all grown now; he’s in college,” Steve argued. “Besides he was in middle school when we met; these are little kids.”

“You were really good with the Byers baby when Johnathan and Nancy visited,” Robin quipped.

“That’s still different. That’s a baby baby, not a preschooler.”

“The pay is better than Family Video, I swear it,” Robin pressed. “And the insurance isn’t bad either!”

Steve thought for a moment. It was close to his last year on his parents’ insurance, and he really needed to find a place of his own.

“I think it’s worth a shot to at least apply. Do you really want to be stuck at Family Video for the rest of your life?”

So Steve applied, and what a shock it was when he got a call for an interview a couple days later and was hired within a week from that.

His dad, naturally, wasn’t pleased. It had ignited a massive fight.

“I don’t know, why don’t you come work for me?” Steve’s dad said the moment Steve told his parents he had applied for the job over a rare family dinner.

“I don’t want to work for the company or even in an office,” Steve huffed while cutting into the dry chicken. “And this is a decent paying job. It’s enough that I can move out.”

“You’re always welcome here as long as you need, honey,” his mother interjected, as if Steve hadn’t spent the majority of his time at home alone.

“I’m twenty-three, Mom,” he said. “I think it’s time I find my own. A real job, and they don’t even care that I don’t have a college degree.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little gay for you to be teaching preschool?” Steve’s dad commented.

Steve set down his fork and glared at his father. “Don’t say that.”

“Well, it’s a woman’s job,” his father pressed. “So are you?”

“A woman? No.”

“Gay, son. Are you?”

Tension grew thick.

“No, but don’t say that.”

After his fight with his father, he moved in with Robin. More rumors circulated around but were calmed by Chrissy, Robin’s friend from college, also living with them. The rumors were quickly dispelled by Robin’s statement in the Hawkins Middle teacher’s lounge that the two of them were just helping a friend in need until he got on his own feet. Which was exactly Steve’s plans, to save enough and live on his own for a bit.

It had only been a month into the new school year, but already Steve knew he had made the right decision even without Robin’s “I told you so.”

It had only been a month into the new school year, but already Steve knew he had made the right decision even without Robin’s “I told you so.”

Just a few more months and he would have enough saved to move into his own place and be out of Robin’s hair.

He’d long since given up on romantic love, settling on just being “professional babysitter” all his life as Dustin had said.

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Steve didn’t mind staying late. He understood that some days things ran over and parents would inevitably run late every once in a while.

He especially didn’t mind when the kid in question is his favorite. He knows he isn’t supposed to have favorites, but Jubilee is the kindest and most well-behaved child Steve has.

Jubilee didn’t seem to mind either, content in finishing the page out of the coloring book Steve gave her. She lifts up the book to show Steve the blue

“Looking good, honey!” he praised. “I really like the blue on the ladybug. Creative!”

After an hour however, Steve started to worry.

He dug around in his desk for papers to see if Jubilee has an emergency contact. After a moment of fumbling around, he finds her folder and flips through until he sees:

_____ Hargrove - Mother

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

Hargrove

His heart sinks into his chest and he feels a tightening. Billy has a baby. Jealousy is an ugly feeling. Billy Hargrove has the cutest daughter while the clock is still ticking on Steve’s dream of six little nuggets.

Shaking his head and telling himself there are bigger things to worry about than a long dead high school rivalry, Steves picked up the classroom phone and dialed the number listed as “mother”.

No answer.

He called a second time. Still no answer.

He looked back down at the folder and scanned for other names.

Jade Munson - Aunt

Eddie Munson - Uncle

Wayne Munson - Uncle

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

Munson

Steve still regularly visited with Eddie. How could a kid in his class be related to one of his good friends without him ever knowing?

Steve sank back into his chair.

Billy was a dad and Eddie was an uncle.

With a heavy sigh, he picked up the phone again and was just about to call Eddie when the door to his room slammed open.

Breathless and her hair falling out of a once neat bun was the most beautiful woman Steve had ever seen stumbling into the doorway.

“I’m so sorry,” you panted. You hunched over, trying to regain you breath. “I thought,” you said between heavy breaths. “I thought it was Eddie’s turn to pick her up.”

Steve had about two seconds to drink you in. As you lifted your head and met Steve’s gaze, he realized immediately why you were so familiar. You were the maid of honor at Eddie’s small wedding a few years ago, the one he couldn’t stop gawking at despite Robin’s teasing—the one he almost managed to find the courage to ask for a dance before he saw you laughing and dancing with none other than Billy Hargrove.

“Mama!” Jubilee exclaimed. The young girl threw down her crayons and ran to you with her tiny arms up, ready to scooped up into her mother’s arms.

“Hi, baby!” you said. “How was school?” You placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

Steve’s gut twisted with want as he heard little cry of “mama!” and watched the reunion before him. He felt dirty thinking of a practical stranger in such a way, but he couldn’t help it. You were gorgeous and genuinely cared for your daughter, and Steve, at his core, just wanted a family to call his own.

He felt a wave of emotions, primarily guilt, before he remembered there was no father listed in the girl’s emergency contacts. No Billy, just you, then who he assumed was your sister, Eddie, then Wayne. The evil bug of jealousy had backed off a bit, and Steve, despite chastising himself, felt a twinge of hope.

He lets his gaze drift to your left ring finger and sees that there’s no ring. Once again, he chastised himself for looking in the first place, and then a second time for the relief he feels over it.

“Thank you so much,” you say, as you hold your child who’s pressing her cheek against yours. “I’m so sorry. “I really thought Eddie was off today and would be taking her home, so I agreed to work late.”

Steve smiled and assured you that it’s okay. “She’s a real angel and I can see now where she gets it,” he said.

You felt a blush furiously creep up your cheeks. Your face is hot, burning, and you know you can’t hide it. You’re not used to compliments or any kind of attention. You’d long since given up on romance since Jubilee’s father left, focusing all your energy into raising her and working.

“I swear it won’t ever happen again. Thank you so much.” You looked at the clock on the wall.

6:30.

Steve had stayed for an extra hour at least.

“Oh my god! It’s so late.” You looked at your daughter in your arms and tickle her stomach. “I bet you’re hungry aren’t you.”

Instead, it’s Steve’s stomach that growls, and it’s his turn to flush with embarrassment. You turned your face towards Steve at the sound, and he sheepishly cast his eyes down, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I know this is a reach,” you said, shuffling your feet in nerves and moving your daughter from one hip to the other. “But could I repay you by making you dinner?”

“That actually sounds wonderful,” Steve said, his voice almost getting stuck in the mess of flutters his heart and stomach were making. “Thank you, please.”

“Mama?” Jubilee tugged on your ear to get your attention. She whispered in her three year old way that everyone within a decent radius could still hear. “Is Mr. Steve coming home with us?”

“Oh well, yes? I think so?” You looked to Steve seeking confirmation. “Uh, unless tonight is too soon…”

“No!” Steve exclaimed. “I mean, no. No. It’s not too soon for me. Tonight sounds perfect.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #Steve is truly the love of my life #soft Steve

[manohmangreeneyes]

The Harrigtons™

summary: steve harrington x y/n byers and their six little nuggets' life

characters: dad!steve x byers!y/n, joyce x hopper, will, jonothan, el, dustin, lucas x max, mike

warnings: ST4 VOL. 2 SPOILERS!! fluff, minimal swearing, pregnancy, hinted smut, childbirth, that's probably it :)

legend: italics = not in the moment narration, ~~~ = scene change

a/n: ik literally nobody pays attention to these but if this sucks i'm sorry it's my first time writing :,) also i tried really hard to keep steve in-character, bc i read so many of these where he totally isn't.. takes place after season four, except there's no ominous ending (i'm coming for u duffers) also nancy is non-existent in this fic (i love her but she would be problematic due to ST4 ship moments; and there's no mileven or byler bc will and el are way to good for mike and the im convinced byler car scene was will finally letting himself let go of mike)

anyways enjoy

~~~

"STEVE!" I cried, sitting on the cold tile of our shared bedroom's bathroom.

He sprinted in from the kitchen- with the glass of water he went to get for me- breathless. "What's it say?"

I flipped the pregnancy test around, revealing two pink lines.

"YES!" he cried, high-fiving me ecstatically. "This is so great, y/n," he smiled, kneeling down to my spot on the floor.

"We're gonna be parents," I murmured, caressing my boyfriend's face gently.

"The start of our Brood of Harringtons™!" He cheered.

~~~

You're probably wondering, "What had you done to get in this situation?" Hopefully not literally, but that's not the point. Well, after all of the chaos in Hawkins, me and Steve finally decided what was most important to the both of us: each other.

Now, I know it was cheesy for us to realize that, but c'mon, where did you think all those clichés came from?

After Steve's sappy speech in the Winnebago, and the terrifying threats of the Upside Down, we worked towards making that dream a reality.

Steve enrolled in ILEA, or the Police Academy for Indiana. I went back to college, seeing as I had been accepted to the local community college. Me and Steve had planned to wait to get married and have our "six little nuggets", as he calls them, until after college. But things don't always go according to plan- especially after a few drinks and a local party (which I remember nothing, not even whose party it was). I missed my monthly twice, and finally told Steve. Of course, he was beyond happy, and ran out to buy a few pregnancy tests. And that's how we ended up talking about our baby-to-come on a Sunday afternoon, on the floor of our bathroom.

But that was back in '87, a whole year after the last.. incident. But I'm not here to talk about that. I'm here to tell you about my family, The Harrington's.

~~~

Nine months after that, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy: Matthew James Harrington. Born October 7, 1987, at 6:22 in the morning, after 13 long hours of excruciating pain. Here's how it went..

"Hey, Steve..?" I said calmly.

"Yeah, babe?" Steve called from over his shoulder. He was on a ladder, fixing a dead lightbulb in the nursery.

"So, don't freak out," I said, still calm. Which, of course, made Steve turn around, and see me waddle in with my water broken all over my pants.

"Oh. Oh! OH, SSSSSSHIT!" He yelled, scrambling down the ladder. "Ooookay, okay. Stay calm, alright! You go take a bath, change into your hospital clothes, and we'll get in the car, and drive to the hospital!" He listed as he guided me into the bathroom, starting a bath and lying out my hospital clothes.

"Alright, I'll stay calm," I giggled, laughing at his panicked state.

After helping me into the bath, he darted between the bathroom and bedroom, continuously asking me how I felt. "Are you sure you don't need anything? Like, absolutely sure? Because I can get you anything you need," He rambled.

"I need you to stop asking me if I'm alright every five seconds. I'll let you know if I'm in any pain." I sighed.

"Okay, okay, sorry." He muttered, helping me out of the bath after a bit and handing me my clothes.

(Which I may or may not have had to ask for help to put on)

~~~

Steve had called my Mom (Joyce), Stepdad (Hop), Stepsister (El), and Brothers (Jon and Will) once we were at the hospital. They rushed over, only Mom and Steve following me into the delivery room.

"It's alright sweetheart, it's almost time," my mother cooed, pressing kisses to my sweaty forehead as she smoothed my hair. "You're almost there."

As expected, I was crying in pain. Scratch that, I was wailing. Childbirth is my least favorite thing, just to be clear.

"Good job, y/n.. good job, hon." Steve was repeating this like his life depends on it, his hand in mine as I squeezed it, nearly breaking his hand.

"I was prepared for pain, not whatever the hell this is!" I screeched, letting out a final push. And then I heard it. Sure, anyone else would have covered their ears at the sound of a screaming baby, but when it's yours, it is an entirely different experience.

Steve let go of my hand, walking over to the nurse holding our son. "Can I...?" He whispered. The nurse nodded, handing him our baby.

"Good job, sweetie.. you did so good." Mom sobbed as she kisses my head. She gave my hand a squeeze as Steve handed me our first baby.

"Hi, little man," I blubbered, "Hello, it's mama." Different flavors of that sentence passed between my giggles and sobs.

"We did good, huh?" Steve murmured, stroking my hair and holding our son's head.

"If you mean me by 'we', then, yes, I did do good." I teased, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Mom scooped the baby up softly, murmuring to him as me and Steve filled out our new baby's birth certificate. I looked back over once we finished, smiling at my mother and son.

"Yes, hello.... It's me, it's Grandma," she cooed.

I was really grateful for my mom and Hopper; they didn't waste one second in congratulating me and Steve. There were no lectures about how we were barely twenty, only loving support. Especially from the kids; they were all about being uncles and aunts. Steve's parents, however, were a different story.

Steve hasn't had the best relationship with his parents; his father really cared about what Steve did with his life. Which doesn't sound bad, except for the fact that that was all he cared about. Steve's mother was the same story, with a bit of 'I love you's sprinkled in between the lectures.

We had decided to keep Chris and babies-to-come out of his parents' lives. Steve wasn't comfortable with our kids being exposed to the same thing he was.

But my family's support and loved was very visible when they came in to meet baby Chris.

~~~

The boys walked in first, as the hospital only allowed two at a time (which meant Mom and Steve were kicked out). Will was carrying a bouquet of flowers for Steve and I, and Jonathan was holding his camera, jumping at the chance for pictures of his brand-new nephew.

"Hey, y/n/n," Will said. He walked over, sitting in the chair next to me. He peered at the tiny baby swaddled in puffy blankets. "And hello, baby...?"

"Christopher James Harrington." I stated proudly.

"Yeah, I'm not repeating all of that. Hi there, Chris." My younger brother cooed.

"Alright, move, my turn," Jonathan said after Will had got a chance to hold Chris. "Can I take a picture of you?" he asked.

You hadn't expected anything less from your twin brother. "One picture," you sighed. "Only one."

He smiled, snapping a picture of the two of you. "Now it's my turn to hold him... Hi there, Christopher.." he cooed, then looked back up to me. "He is the spitting image of Steve. The hair and everything."

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm gonna have my hands full."

After the boys left me, El and Hopper walked in. El, never having held or been exposed to a baby, was extremely nervous. She let Hop go first, and he gladly accepted the offer.

"Let me get my hands on this monster," he uttered softly. It seems a bit harsh for a newborn, but I didn't expect any mushy baby-talk from him. "Hey there, Chris, It's Grandpa. I.." Jim went on talking to Chris as I motion El to come stand on my other side.

"Don't be nervous, El. You're gonna be just fine," I spoke. "I'll be right here and Jim's gonna help you hold her."

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I won't.. hurt him?"

"You would never." I promised.

With that, she walked over and sat in the chair. Hop helped her hold Christopher, and soon she was giggling at his little cries and squeaks.

After that, Steve came in to help us to the car. However, I refused to drive home, afraid the carseat wasn't in properly. Hopper checked it three times, but every time I looked at it and shook my head.

So, yes. I did, in fact, walk home with my newborn and boyfriend, the rest of my family following in the two cars that were brought.

~~~

I jumped, hearing a clamor and lots of various "LET US IN!"s at my front door. It was just two days after me and Chris came home from the hospital, and Steve had told the Teens to wait a few days until unleashing their chaos on our new baby. I laughed, making a "be quiet" signal as I opened the door to the Teens.

"Oh, don't tell me he's asleep!" Dustin complained.

"No, but you can't shout around a newborn regardless." I laughed.

They filed in and sat around the living room as I headed upstairs. "Guess who's here," I cooed to my son.

"I don't have to guess, I can hear them from up here," Steve said, walking in to hug me from behind.

"Hate to break it to you, but I wasn't talking to you, love. But, you do get to change him!" I said, handing the baby to Steve.

Steve sighed, sniffing his son. "Wow- that smells horrible. He's only drinking milk?" he coughed, beginning to change your baby.

"I'll be waiting with them," I laughed.

~~~

After changing him, Steve brought Chris down, handing him to Dustin first.

"I swear to you, Henderson, if you drop my kid you'll never be seen again," he warned, gently placing Chris in Dustin's arms.

The Teens crowded around him, all cooing and laughing at his every movement and sound. El and Will sat back with you, and Steve was behind the couch.

"Are you really going to let Mike hold him?" Will asked doubtfully.

"Yes," I said, seeing Mike glare over at Will. Then leaning into my little brother's ear, "sit next to him when he does." Which earned a laugh from the pair.

After they all had gotten a chance to hold Christopher, Max had called dibs on holding her the rest of the time, save little breaks when El would hold her. Steve and Dustin cooked dinner under the supervision of Lucas. Not that he was any more equipped, but if Steve and Dustin got into an argument, he was there to make sure nothing was set on fire.

And that's how things were. I loved the Teens, and not just because they were free babysitters. I knew that I was never going to have to worry about my babies, they were going to be very well cared for.

~~~

A few years later, Steve is Chief of Police. Yes, he's graduated from ILEA. I got a job at Hawkins' Law Firm, even if I was only their receptionist, and graduated college. It was now 1990, and me and Steve have two kids with another on the way. Christopher was now three years old, and a carbon copy of his father. We have a one and a half year old girl, Jessica. She was, and is, also a carbon copy of Steve, much to my annoyance that none of our babies take after me. Our next baby is also a girl, and I was about seven months along. We're naming her Emily.

Oh, and I almost forgot. Me and Steve tied the knot. After I gave birth to Jessica, he proposed to me. Not right after obviously, but about a month.

"So, what's the occasion?" I giggled, me and Steve sitting under a tree at Lovers' Lake.

"The occasion," Steve mocked my words, "is that I love you and our little family."

"That was the occasion when Jessica spit up on your back at breakfast today," I smiled. "so what's the real occasion?"

Steve sighed, pulling out a ring from his jean pocket. "The occasion," he murmured, "is our engagement..?" he ended it as a question.

"Steve, are you for real?" My voice trembled, on the verge of tears. It's crazy how even when I'm not pregnant my emotions can change in a matter of minutes.

He nodded. "Uhm, duh," He kissed my neck. "So?" Steve was never patient.

"Yes! Of course!" I sobbed- or laughed- well, both. "Gimme," I sniffled, looking at the simple silver band, lined with tiny diamonds. "Steve, it's beautiful."

"Yeah, I knew you'd like it."

~~~

"Mama," a small voice whispered, crawling on top of me, tiny knees and elbows crashing into my face. "Mama, it's time to go now."

I sighed, opening my eyes to a pair of identical y/e/c ones. "You're right, baby."

Steve walked in, tackling our youngest. "C'mon, nugget, let's go eat breakfast while Mama gets dressed."

I stretched, smiling. "You made breakfast?"

"I did," He smiled. "Everyone's up, except you. So let's go, chop chop."

"Alright, alright. I'll be down soon."

Steve and I have two boys and four girls. Not quite what we had planned, but we have no complaints. As I said before, things don't always go according to plan.

So here's our not-so-little family tree: Christopher James Harrington, born 1987. Jessica Brittany Harrington, born 1989. Emily Joyce Harrington, born 1991. The twins, Eddie Brian and Tiffany Michelle Harrington, born 1993. And lastly, Rachel Alison Harrington, born 1996.

~~~

"Have I told you what a great husband you are?" I murmured, hugging Steve from behind.

"Mm, not yet, I don't think so," he teased, passing down pancakes with the help of Chris.

"Well, you are." I smiled, scattering kisses on my husband's neck (much to our kids' disgust).

"I figured."

I sat down with my family, finishing up breakfast. After that, we all piled into our Winnebago, off on our long talked about Harrington Summer Road Trip.

~~~

So there we are. A whole brood, army, cult, whatever you'd like to call it, of Harringtons. There were some bumps along the way, like the time Steve dropped Eddie when he was two months old. Or the time I forgot Christopher at the grocery store when he was eight. But let's talk about high points: I started taking weekends and Wednesdays off to take care of the kids, and Steve came home earlier and left later for work. We got a dog, a golden retriever named Scooter. Robin comes over to babysit, along with Dustin and El. Sometimes Will tags along on our family trips, dragging Jonathan along. Jess got accepted onto the cheer team, and Tiffany is the head of the mathletes. Ed is a track star, and Rachel is an off-balanced ballerina. Chris is a basketball star, just like his dad. And Emily joined the AV club, ironically enough.

I guess that's it. Our Brood of Harringtons™. And boy, are we happy.

~~~

a/n: i'm sorry that gave me Cheaper By The Dozen vibes :,/ anyways requests are open for any Marvel or Stranger Things requests :)

#steve harrington #dad!steve harrington #six little nuggets #steve harrington x reader #baby fever #domestic fluff #soft steve #stranger things

[stevesbipanic]

Ever since I saw Joe Keery in glasses I've needed to see Steve Harrington in glasses too. Just imagine our sweet boy in glasses, a soft sweater, maybe a cute cat on his lap.

#id die happy #soft boy steve #soft steve #eddie would combust #stranger things #stranger things s4 #st4 #steddie #steve harrington #steveddie #stranger things season 4 #i think hed like a cat #maybe not after what happened to mews tho

[jerry-hornes-foot]

i just want some soft and loving and tender bangin with steve

Tender Steve!!! 💖💖 I tried to make this as soft and lovely as possible, but it has also been a little poisoned by how obsessed I have become with Steve's big arms !!

790 words

18+ only

Smut, fluff

Steve Harrington x Gender Neutral Reader

Tags: gentle sex; emotions; fluff; outdoor sex; genital touching; pet names; baby (reader)

The water on the lake is so still that the setting sun reflects off it perfectly, casting a warm orange glow onto the beach. Far off in the distance you can hear birds singing softly amongst the tall trees. You'd never been somewhere quite as beautiful as this, and the silence brought with it a safe, serene sense of comfort. Steve is beside you, laid out on his back on the blanket, basking in the warm glow of the setting sun. You roll over and place a hand on his chest, leaning over his face and lightly brushing his hair away from his forehead. Those deep brown eyes of his sparkle under the soft light, delicate flecks of amber accentuating the warm colours of his iris. He smiles up at you, the warmth in his face making your heart melt.

"Thank you for bringing me here." You say softly.

"Thank you for coming."

"I can't believe how quiet it is."

"Not a lot of people know it's here. There's two other beaches on the other side, so I don't think people bother to look any further than that." He stares out across the lake for a moment, then looks back up at you, his cheeks flushing slightly as he speaks. "You're the first person I've ever brought out here."

A lump starts to form in your throat and you can feel tears beginning to prick your eyes. You're so overwhelmed with emotion it's hard to even open your mouth to speak. Leaning forward you press your lips into his, trying your best to keep tears from spilling over onto your cheeks. Steve's arm wraps around you, holding you tightly to his chest as he kisses you back. The warm evening air envelops your bodies like a blanket. Steve's other hand cups your face, sliding round onto the back of your head and pulling you forward slightly so he can kiss you harder.

Steve moans into your mouth as your hand slides down over the strained fabric of his jeans. He rolls his hips up into your hand as you rub him gently through the denim. Sliding your hand back up to his waistband you manage to undo the top button one-handed. Slipping your hand in over the top of his underwear you let your fingers just barely brush up and down the length of him, savouring the feeling of his cock twitching through the fabric. Moving your hand once more you slip down into his underwear and start to stroke his his dick slowly. Steve's tongue slips into your mouth as he rolls onto his side, slipping his own hand down your jeans to touch you while you touch him. Steve pulls away from your lips and rests his forehead against yours, he stares into your eyes for a moment, before closing his eyes and just resting against you as his hand works beneath your clothes. You lie there together for sometime, fingers searching over each other's skin as the sun drops behind the treeline, completely silent save the occasional low groan.

After a little while you slowly begin shedding layers. You pull Steve's t-shirt over his head and cast it onto the sand, he follows suit, lifting your t-shirt away from your body and letting his soft hands run over your ribcage and back. His body moves with you as you slide off his jeans and underwear and toss them aside. Once again he follows your lead, carefully sliding your jeans and underwear away from you. Placing a hand on your shoulder Steve leans into you, pushing you gently onto your back, and hangs over you with a hand on either side of your head to prop himself up. His fingers begin stroking over your skin once more, you moan and pull his head down to yours, kissing him again. Your hands grip tightly to his arms, they tense under your touch and the sensation makes your heart race. Each movement of Steve's hand is so delicate and precise, you can feel your full body twitching with each tender touch. Placing both of your hands gently on his face you pull him away from you and stare up at him.

"Make me cum, Steve?" You ask softly.

Steve smiles. As the sun slips off over the horizon it makes a stunning halo around his head that makes his whole face glow. Grabbing your thighs he pulls you towards him so that you can feel his dick, soaked with precum, rubbing against you. His hands move to your hips and his arms tense again as he lifts you and starts to slowly push into you, making you groan and roll your head back into the blanket.

"Anything for you, baby."

#answered #writing requests #steve harrington smut #soft steve #stranger things fan fiction #steve x reader #gender neutral reader #jerryhorneskink

[abbatoirablaze]

The Debauchery Of Captain America Master List

This series is completed! ✔️

Known worldwide as Captain America, no one would think that Steve Rogers ever had any issues finding a woman for the night. But no, Steve didn't always look like this:

No, the owner of America's most perfect peach used to be a fiesty little small fry. He used to look like this:

And quite personally, I love my boyfriend, regardless. (I definitely would have fallen for those baby blues and that endearing smile either way.)

Steve has always been a fighter...but the losing battle he's always dealt with...the thing he's always had an issue with...are things of a more intimate nature.

And Tony, being the ever-generous friend that he is, has sent Steve and I up to his cabin for a month of solitude. Where we were ambushed by not only a sex therapist, but also what appears to be an all-out sex dungeon in the basement so that Steve can 'become an adult.'

But before I go any further, I can say this: we wouldn't be here had Bucky not managed to blurt out in front of Tony that while Steve and I have been dating for nearly a year, he's the oldest virgin alive.

So here in lies the journal that the therapist told us to create...which I've correctly titled as The Debauchery of Captain America.

*Edit...Steve does not think that this title is funny...but he titled his 'Exploring Love Making With My Dame'

Chapter 1: Bucky's Loose Lips Sink Ships

Chapter 2: Ambushed By The Sex Doctor

Chapter 3: Talking About Our Fantasies and Kinks

Chapter 4: Oral Fixations

Chapter 5: It All Starts With A Bang

Chapter 6: Roleplay Two Ways

Chapter 7: Pissing Off A Super Soldier

Chapter 8: Communication Is Key

Chapter 9: Steve's Sunscreen

Chapter 10: Morning Wood

Chapter 11: Afternoon Delight

Chapter 12: Valentine's Day

Chapter 13: Opening Up

Chapter 14: Sore Subject

Chapter 15: One Foot Out The Door

Chapter 16: Happy Anniversary

Chapter 17: Sneaking In

Chapter 18: Back To The Tower

Chapter 19: Moving On From The Avengers

Chapter 20: Real Responsibilities

Chapter 21: Birthday Wishes

Chapter 22: Til The End Of The Line

Chapter 23: Happy New Year

Chapter 24: A Year From Where We Started

#marvel au #marvel #the avengers #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers smut #dark steve rogers #soft steve #captain america smut

[faofinn]

No.12 "I haven't slept in days, but who's counting?" 

@whumptober-archive

Red | Insomnia | "I'm up. I'm up!"

Harrison swayed as he stood, staring blankly at Steve in front of him. He could see his mouth moving, but he couldn't work out what he was saying. He nodded for the sake of it, bored of the conversation and just so tired. Steve knew he wasn't paying attention, but he didn't really mind. He knew Harrison was struggling, it was beyond obvious, but there was nothing he could do. Harrison wasn't going to accept help, and he couldn't force him. 

The conversation seemed to be over, and Harrison didn't have anything else to do. He was exhausted, so disappeared into his room, flopping onto his bed with a groan. 

Steve gave him some space, knowing full well he needed the rest. He was worried about him, of course, but there wasn’t much he could do. He couldn’t fix his sleep, just had to hope he got the peace he needed and was able to drift off. He kept quiet around the house, careful not to make too much noise. 

He’d been worried about Harrison for days, up seemingly all hours. Even when he went to his room, Steve could hear him up, doing things, moving stuff around, going to the kitchen and back at 2am. It kept Steve awake, worrying about him, worrying that he might go back to alcohol, use that to finally settle him off, but for the mean time, he didn’t. 

He did some work in his little office, reading through some old research papers for a patient he’d had on his mind. Time passed, and he’d not heard anything out of Harrison. He hoped that was a good sign, that his son had finally managed to get some sleep. He worried about nightmares, too, knowing full well that was why he’d had so much trouble in the first place, but things were quiet. He typed some notes up, set about making dinner, and still hadn’t heard anything out of Harrison. He wasn’t about to wake him, not for food. He’d cope missing one meal, he could have it another time. 

Once Steve had eaten and put Harrison’s portion in the fridge, he watched some TV for a while and then headed to bed himself. It was late now, and he finally worked up the courage to open Harrison’s door, carefully so not to make a sound. He was passed out asleep on top of his duvet, lights still on and curtains undrawn. With a shake of his head, Steve slipped inside. He draped a blanket over his son, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, drew the curtains quietly and flicked the light off. Hopefully he wouldn’t get woken up by the cold, or the light in the morning.

#whumptober2023 #No.12 “I haven't slept in days but who's counting?” #insomnia #whump writing #whump prompt #oc #fic #harrison cunningham #steve cunningham #sleep #fluffy whump #soft steve #found family #finally getting some rest #can't sleep #this was cute ngl #we love steve and hars

[bakugousdarling]

some steve harrington hcs because i love him <3

Gn!reader x head over heels!steve harrington

warnings: none just pure fluff!~<3333

First of all, he loves showing you off,

idk i just feel like he would always be holding your hand, having his hand around your waist because he wants people to know your his!

He loves pda because it makes people know that your his yk yk but if you dont like pda that much he would respect that!

Hes so wipped for you like literally he thinks your the cutest thing in the whole world and you just make him want to cuddle you kiss you because of how cute he thinks you are! He loves you so much that whenever you ask him to do something he would do it for you.

loves.your.giggles.and.laughs.

hes always trying to do something funny just to hear you laugh because your laugh is like music to hes ears!

if you have any insecurities He would totally love 'em

he thinks your the most beautiful and perfect person in all hawkings

he would also randomly kiss your forehead lol

steve tries to act like his though but in reality his a big softie! <3

he wants to have a big family with you, for him, your the one he truely loves and wants to spend the rest of his life with.

when you guys have a date, yall are either having an outdoor date or just a comfy in-home date

he would watch your favorite shows/movies just so he can have something else to talk about with you.

steve loves it when you play with his hair, makes him feel relaxed and helps him with the stress he has been carrying </3

loves the way your lips feel against his, thats why he loves to kiss you because his just so addicted on the feeling of your lips against his!!

he calls you: Babe, baby, sweetheart, Y/n and darling

, he loves you with his wholeee big heart <3

#steve harrington x reader #soft steve #stranger things headcanons #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington fluff #marry me steve #steve harrington #steve harrington headcanons

[steve-s-slut]

✨️ T O U C H M E W I T H O U T U S I N G Y O U R H A N D S ✨️

#soft steve #also obsessed with her ballerina shoes necklace #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #stranger things #joe keery #natalia dyer #✨️

[italiansteebie]

eddie loves that he and steve are the same size

because when he buys himself big tshirts, he gets to see steve in big t-shirt's.

and he likes the way his vest hugs steve's shoulders just a tad tighter than his own.

and steve loves to see eddie warming up in the sweaters that are worn with love and tears of use. and he likes how they can trade clothes, and how when eddie leaves to play with his band, he can wear eddie's clothes and make it feel like he's still there. (and they share underwear too. because sometimes eddie likes the feeling of steve's briefs hugging his thighs, and steve likes the worn in softness of eddie's boxers).

steve loves that he and eddie are the same size

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #sharing clothes #soft steve #soft eddie #soft steddie #domestic steddie #steve/eddie #swapping clothes #steve harrington headcanon #eddie munson headcanons #steddie headcanon

[navnae]

Okay but now I have another cute little Hc about Steve always pulling out his wallet and running to the nearest store whenever anyone in the party mentions even the littlest thing that interests them but with Eddie it’s gotten a little bit overboard. Eddie will mention how he saw something in the mall in passing and says how he thought it looked cool, not really hinting at any form of wanting it. In Steve’s ear all he hears “Eddie likes, Eddie gets.” That explains why Eddie has so many gifts from Steve even though he never asked for any of them and honestly it’s just Steve’s way of making Eddie used to him spoiling him.

#steddie #ahhhhhh #they’re so cute #Steve is so sweet #Eddie never knows what to say #steddie fluff #steddie headcanon #steddie hcs #hcs #headcanon #I’m soft #soft Steve #soft Eddie #Steve x Eddie #Eddie x Steve #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #hehe hi #lmaooooooo #idk #i’m sleepy #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #idk what else to tag #help lol #please #come on #manifesting #power

[elodium]

As the Poet says, So do I

Steve Rogers + Bucky Barnes + oc, kinda

Summary : An indulgent small work where mc is feeling very down, depressed and dealing with some non-returned love feelings. Stucky are comfort characters so they're there to fill the gap, comfort and love like she needs in a sad, quiet night.

Words: 1204.

Warnings: None.

Definetely is more of a creative outburst that I've had early in the morning about some stuff I'm going thru and writing with two characters that bring me comfort and good feelings, besides I like a lot actually helped a bit to calm down. Wanted to put it out there. No physical drescription tho, if it could comfort someone else. Sorry for any mispronunciation of both the petnames used in this or bad writing, sad brain late in the night doesn't work that good.

As the poet says, he is half of my soul. Here, she is, to me, half of my soul. The sliced part of my entire being that was separated somewhere through my journey here and left in the heavens to wait for her perfect moment. Until the rightful moment I've met her, that half of me was still further away.

Life gained a bit more color as she painted the walls and the floors around me, drew doors and windows for me to see more of the world out there and leave the days of a blind bubble of a world behind. I feel the love nurtured through the years in the drawings I draw, felt the pain that hurting each other can bring to one's soul and mind when I sob into warm and soft blankets that carries more scents than my own, startle myself in the small smile creaking through my umid sullen face at the memories swimming in the tears of the playfulness and jokes that brought a bit more giggles into the world.

She is half of my soul, as one poet would say had they met me in a distant life and could watch in my bare eyes the amount of feelings pooled there and contained from being handed to the very same small, warm hands I love. She is the half of me I can't love properly as I wish I could. The one kind that life took away from me one way or another, as peaceful and caring as it could have be hurting and thrashing me apart. In the end, neither I feel peaceful and soothed when my feet tremble in my steps towards the warmth that I'm desperate in need of, or feel torn apart to my very core since it's a path I'm long used to feel it under my fingers and had the displeasure to feel it before.

In worse scenarios, surely, but are committed to my memory, to remember me of the tears they caused.

They know that, of course they know that half of my soul is not for me to pour my love as plenty as I wished to. In the arms I fit in, one cold and steel and other warm and soft, I let my legs give up to carry me up and pass onwards a plea. I know there's not an ounce of expression in my emotionless face, all the anxiety and sadness fevers inside, pools and bubbles, only to spill hot through my eyes — feel them burn, exhausted after the hours passed, and I close them under the overwhelming tenderness in which two more arms circle me and the one that first cocooned me in his chest. Safely hidden from the molten steel in the blue of that unreachable stare; eyes a tone of blue with just a drop of gray.

"I'm glad you allowed yourself to my, to our care, be smart and let us hold you for just a minute longer, лисичка, my little fox." I drink in the whisper of a Russian that I don't understand, but can conjure and feel the presence of love and care in it.

Of course they know. That's why I let myself lean into the comfort on the Winter Soldier's sensitivity, fresh in ways that no human will ever be after being locked up from his own self for so long, denied of feelings, and so the softness that bares the metal of his hand may as well be softer than any skin of silk could dream to be as it combs my hair. Cold it's soothing, refreshing, and past half an hour the midnight through warm tears, warm microfiber blanket and warm skin from a bath that drowned half of my tears down the drain, it's the cold and gentle hold his arm has in me on his lap that pulls me down to a reality that doesn't gravitates near mine, but offer comforts nonetheless. And there's the warmth my skin absorbs in ways that feels like starving, the comforting warmth of calloused hands of the good man that guides my unsettled breath in each caress of my back; not the perfect soldier.

"I thought I was strong."

"You are." Both are sweet baritones of voices, tones too near to dreams that could lull me to sleep for dozens of hours if whispered near my ears like that in other universes. "You're just human, mo stór, my dearest, in love." It's the soft feeling of a sound, of warm lips of the one former Captain America that has me falling deeper and tighter under the Winter Soldier's fortress of a body, rattled with the desire to let a sob follow the sniffle.

Winter is cold on the outside, but inside its creations, such as homes made of ice, it can warm and rescue the most victims, better than mundane tents can. Cutting myself of defenses around one soldier made by the winter feels like being embraced by a warm fortress of ice, and rescued and loved with devotion by the one behind me. Whose face I don't look upwards to see but know the tones of the greens in the blue of his eyes that I once stared right back in dreams, and the golden aura that comes from him and seeps into my skin starved for that solace, fiery like ones of those of an angel old books would tell tales about, the gentle ones that would protect the uncared, saddened, ones left to wallow within themselves like me and Winter Soldier. The one good man that sits on his ankles and rumbles small melodies that no one remembers names but a poet would choose to transform their words into sounds. Into sounds that grips my heart of feelings of how I just know in my heavy bones that she's half of my soul whom I love deeply, but cannot share that profound love as it really is, cannot find in me the healed and pure form I dreamt I had acquired already.

So, they feed from it for me, save me from the huge weight of having too much sorrow for the myself I don't love yet, and the other oneself I won't be able to love, in their sluggish and soothing kisses across my bare shoulders. Take the amount of love in me for themselves, for they know how pure and how much of it it is and I have no other place to bear it but my own mind, my own mind that conjures them and gladly embrace me between them, inside myself. Just for a moment, just a night where I can't feel any sensation in my skin other than the cracked and dry tears on my face.

One can't deliver their hearts to others that don't exist. Doesn't mean I can't imagine a world where they hold tight to the heart pendant in my neck with interlaced hands, then proceed, with both hands each, to shower me in love and comfort that I, alone in the dark in a room that they don't live in skin and bones, can't find. 

Or have the prospect that I would have it someday.

#writing #unrequited feelings #unrequited love #comfort #comfort character #oneshot #sad writing #marvel #captain america winter soldier #captain america #winter soldier #steve rogers #bucky barnes #soft bucky #soft steve #not reader insert #i mean not exactly #but if the shoe fits #suit yourself #angst #bi wlm #stucky x oc

[stevesbipanic]

Someone New by Hozier is a Steve Harrington song.

#he falls in love just a little bit with someone new #he has so much love to give #he loves the kids #he loves robin #he loves nancy and joyce and hopper and jonathan #HE LOVES EDDIE #my boy is a lover not a fighter #stranger things #steve stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things s4 #st4 #steddie #stranger things season 4 #soft steve

[mcdynamite]

Kissing has never done all that much for Steve, if he’s honest.

It's just not really something he's ever given much thought to before - the way someone kisses - despite the fact that he's locked lips with plenty of people. For him, kissing has always been something nice, but not particularly special. It's never been earth-shattering. Never taken his breath away, the way people talk about in movies and books. It's just a way to be closer to someone, and it's nice, but it's never anything more than that.

Then, Steve kisses Eddie for the first time, and suddenly he gets it.

They're high when it happens, laying side by side in Eddie's unmade bed while the weed sinks into their bones. Steve loves the way it seems to slow down the world around them - makes everything syrupy and sweet, so he feels every brush of Eddie's fingers against his own in every inch of his body as they pass the joint back and forth.

The casual contact makes him long for more, and when he's high, Steve just...gives into the longing. He lets himself drift closer until they're pressed together so closely that Eddie can hide his face in Steve's uncharacteristically messy hair when he's trying to cover up a snort of laughter in response to Steve's deranged weed-induced musings.

Tonight, they meander their way through a directionless conversation - as they so often do when they get high together - until the joint is so small it nearly singes their fingertips. When Eddie finally sits up to stamp it out in the ashtray on the bedside table, Steve tries not to miss the feeling of Eddie's body against his own too much, knowing it'll be back soon enough.

"I'm thinking of handing over the DM throne to Will for the next oneshot, after we finish this campaign," Eddie says, speech slow and thoughtful as he puts out the blunt. "Think he'll be good at it."

Steve just hums, eyes heavy-lidded, gaze fixed on the curls he wants so badly to run his fingers through, just to know what it feels like. He's high enough to not care about the consequences when he decides fuck it, and reaches out to feel the soft ringlets beneath his fingertips.

"You're good at it," he muses - a delayed response to Eddie's comment. If Eddie is bothered by the way Steve is carefully petting his hair, he doesn't show it. Instead, he turns back to look down at Steve with a soft smile that makes Steve's insides feel all gooey.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, a hint of a smirk overtaking the softness. "You ready to admit that you like watching me play my little nerd game, Harrington?"

Steve blames the quiet whine that escapes his throat on the weed, along with the way he honest-to-God pouts in response to Eddie's words. He tugs on a lock of Eddie's hair petulantly. "Don't like it when you call me that."

Eddie's face does something strange then, and Steve can't quite parse out what it means with the weed making his brain all foggy. He looks...surprised? Fond? Maybe both?

"Sorry, Stevie," he replies, teasing but somehow genuine at the same time. Steve smiles dopily, an expression that Eddie returns. "That better?"

Satisfied, Steve nods. Hums in affirmation. "Yeah. I like that one."

And it's true. Steve loves when Eddie calls him Stevie, because Eddie always sounds so fond when he does, and it makes Steve's heart feel too big for his chest.

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, still grinning as he leans down until he's propped up on one elbow, hovering just over Steve on the bed. "What else do you want me to call you, hm? Stevie? Steve? M'lord?"

The last one makes Steve laugh and close his eyes, happy to bask in the sound of Eddie's voice as he floats along with their conversation.

"Sir Steven? Sweetheart?" Eddie continues, and Steve's heart jumps just a bit at the second one. Then, Eddie murmurs, "Baby?" 

And Steve's eyes fly open.

Steve stares at his friend with wide eyes - lips parted as a soft, punched-out oh escapes him - and it's weird, is the thing. Because Steve has been called baby before, lovingly by his grandmother when he was still a little boy causing mischief while his parents weren't watching, meanly by boys on the playground when he cried over something silly like a scraped knee…and when he got older, teasingly by the girls he took on dates.

It's not a new name for him, but it feels groundbreaking nonetheless.

Because the word sounds so much better coming from Eddie's mouth than anyone else's. It's soft, and fond, and knowing, and...

It's longing.

"Yeah,” Steve croaks. "Yeah."

"Which one? Sir Steven?" Eddie asks playfully, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. He grins maniacally when Steve huffs and shakes his head in disappointment. "No? Which one was it, then, that you liked the most?"

"Eddieeee," Steve complains, burying his flushed face into the pillow and avoiding his friend's gaze. "You know which one."

Eddie shakes his head in an almost scolding manner and Steve is convinced he must've moved closer, because Steve can feel Eddie's breath against his skin, and the air in the room feels about a hundred degrees hotter.

"Nuh-uh, Stevie," Eddie says, poking him playfully in the ribs. "You gotta tell me which one."

Steve hesitates, feeling more and more self-conscious by the second. He sort of wants to hide, but he also really wants Eddie to call him that again. It's probably thanks to his intoxicated brain that he allows himself to answer truthfully. "Baby," he murmurs, uncharacteristically shy.

"Yeah?" Eddie says, voice and smile softening in tandem. "You like when I call you baby, Stevie?"

Steve stares up at him with wide eyes, hardly able to believe this is really happening, and nods. "Yeah. That one."

Eddie is so close, now, that Steve can feel the warmth that emanates from his skin; can see the flecks of gold in his eyes amongst the molten chocolate brown. He's got freckles - Steve realizes. Tiny little dots across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks that form constellations on his skin. Steve thinks, maybe a bit deliriously, that he would be perfectly happy spending hours tracing them, the way astronomers of old once traced the stars.

"Eddie..." he breathes, heart pounding as he begins to feel more and more desperate for...for something. Anything to let him know that he's not the only one succumbing to the gravitational pull between them.

Eddie blinks slowly, and his eyes widen as though he's just realized something important. Steve watches his throat bob nervously before Eddie finally whispers, "Yeah, baby?"

Steve inhales sharply through parted lips - a soft, plaintive gasp that draws Eddie's eyes to his lips, and-

Oh.

That's what Steve wants, isn't it?

"I-" Steve tries, helpless to stop his own gaze from falling on Eddie's lips - pink and parted and just a little bit chapped, and so, so close.

"Baby," Eddie says again, and this time it's different. Unintentional. Like Eddie said it without meaning to. And maybe it's just the weed, but Steve swears he can feel the word burrowing its way into his chest and settling around his heart like a blanket. It makes his whole body feel warm - something only made worse by the hot coal of desire that begins smoldering low in his gut.

He's so lost in it all that he can't even bring himself to feel embarrassed when he whispers, "Please."

Steve waits with bated breath until finally, any remaining nervousness retreats from Eddie's eyes, and Eddie smiles in that way that makes Steve's stomach flutter. It's such a pretty smile. Steve can only watch as it grows closer, going cross-eyed for the briefest moment in his quest to to stare at Eddie's lips until suddenly his eyes are fluttering shut, because...because...

Because Eddie kisses him with lips still curled into a smile, and Steve thinks - utterly nonsensically - that feeling Eddie's lips against his own is so much better than just looking at them. The thought makes him giggle, just a bit, and he finds himself grinning into the kiss, too.

They part for a moment so Steve can let out another quiet giggle, and Eddie seems to pause for a moment, smiling down at Steve with poorly concealed affection. "Baby," he murmurs reverently, and then he's leaning down to capture Steve's lips in another kiss.

This time, Steve is ready for it, but it draws a muffled whimper out of him nonetheless. His nose fills with the scent of weed and cigarettes and cheap cologne - the smell of Eddie - and it's so overwhelmingly good. He lets his lips fall open on a gasp...doesn't close them when Eddie tentatively brushes his tongue against Steve's own. He shuts his eyes, because the press of Eddie's hand to his cheek and Eddie's chest to his own feel like so much more like that.

Eddie breaks the kiss to gasp in a breath, and inexplicably, that's what really sends every last bit of restraint in Steve's brain packing. It's so simple, so ordinary - the soft, quick sip of air Eddie takes in. It's a breathy little sound that Steve has heard from countless others before, but maybe that's why it puts him in this unfamiliar chokehold of wanting.

This isn't just anyone.

This is Eddie.

And Eddie is making those quiet, lovely little sounds because he's kissing Steve, and Steve is very rapidly realizing that he is utterly incapable of being normal about any of this.

He feels his cheeks go hot as he forces his heavy limbs to move so he can tangle his fingers in Eddie's curls, holding him close (because Steve thinks he might die if Eddie stops kissing him, now). And it's bliss. It's addictive. It's ruinously tender, and Steve feels himself unraveling from within. Feels the knots in his heart - left behind by absent parents, cruel friends, and distant girlfriends - turn to dust at the gentlest brush of Eddie's lips.

He whimpers into Eddie's mouth and clings to him even tighter, feeling his throat grow strangely tight as his eyes sting at the corners, and when Eddie pulls away he's got a small furrow in his brow, just under his bangs. 

"Stevie?" Eddie murmurs. His eyes dart to Steve's cheeks, and when he brushes his thumb along the skin just under Steve's eye, it drags a bit of wetness with it. Only then does Steve realize...he's crying.

And Eddie is wiping away his tears.

"I..." Steve croaks, eyes wide and spilling more tears with every blink. He drags his hands down from Eddie's hair to rest on his chest, beginning to curl into himself as the embarrassment sinks in.

Christ, he's crying. And all they've done is kiss.

Eddie's frown deepens, but he doesn't pull away completely. Instead, he lets their noses brush and breathes, "Baby..."

Steve's breath hitches.

"You're shaking, sweetheart," Eddie continues, still brushing Steve's tears away with gentle fingers. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Steve gasps hurriedly, because as far as he understands, it's the truth. "Nothing's wrong, I just..." He closes his eyes. Swallows the lump in his throat and admits with a trembling voice, "I didn't know it could be like this."

He opens his eyes and sees Eddie's expression soften, but the concern remains. "What do you mean?"

"I just..." Steve tries, sniffling and letting out a quiet, distressed laugh. He slams his eyes shut again and rubs them roughly with his palms, trying to force the tears back into his body. "Jesus, this is fucking embarrassing, man."

"Steve..." Eddie murmurs. He sounds sad. Conflicted. Like he's not sure what to do or how to help - if he should stay or go - and that just won't do, because Steve is certain he'll drift away on the breeze without Eddie to ground him. He's got to try to explain, even with his thoughts still feeling syrupy slow from the weed.

He wants to tell Eddie that he's kissed dozens of people before, but kissing them never felt like this. He wants to explain that he's used to taking the lead, and that it's nice having someone else set the pace, for once. He wants to tell Eddie about the way most people he's kissed have done so - frantically...lustfully. Kissing has always been a simple means to an end. And it's never made Steve feel like this.

What he actually manages to say is slightly different, though.

"No one's ever kissed me like they love me, before."

His eyes are still covered by his own hands, so he can't see what is surely a stunned expression on Eddie's face, but he can hear the way Eddie gasps in response to Steve's words.

It’s too much, he thinks. He's said too much, fast-forwarded too far into the movie. It's too early to be talking about love. Steve knows this. It's just...

His stupid, floaty little brain can't envision a world where someone kisses the way Eddie does without being hopelessly, irrevocably in love.

"Shit," Steve breathes after several minutes of silence. Or maybe it's several seconds. He really doesn't know. Time feels funny, when he's high. "I know that's, like, way too much. I'm too much. I don't know why I-"

"Steve," Eddie interrupts, and Steve snaps his mouth shut. He feels Eddie's hands wrap carefully around his wrists to pull them from his eyes. Eddie is being so careful with him...like he can't see that his tenderness is exactly the thing that’s ripping Steve apart at the seams.

Steve wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to drag Eddie back down and kiss him until he can't breathe. Until Eddie's sweetness becomes warm and comforting instead of feeling like the scalding heat of jumping into a hot tub after a dip in the cold waters of the pool.

"Baby, look at me," Eddie says softly.

Steve is helpless but to obey.

Eddie's gaze is sad but kind when Steve finally meets it with his own. He's got the barest hint of a smile on his pretty lips - the same ones Steve so desperately wants to feel against his own, again - and Steve feels his stomach swirl with something he can't quite describe.

"It's not too much," Eddie continues, voice steady. "And neither are you, okay? You, Steve Harrington, are never too much. Not to me."

The words settle over Steve like a blanket, and he can't decide whether it's comforting or suffocating. He just wants to stop talking about things so they can move on. He just wants Eddie.

"Eds..." he rasps desperately. "I don't- I just want-" He cuts himself off with the hitching breath of what may be a sob. He's not really sure, at this point.

"What can I do, honey?" Eddie says, and he really needs to stop with the pet names, or Steve might genuinely fracture into pieces. "What do you want?"

Steve is sunk too deep into the syrupy slow feeling of the weed - too desperate to feel Eddie pressed against him again - to do anything but tell the truth.

"Just want you," he says.

Eddie smiles - eyes crinkling at the corners - and Steve breathes the sight in like oxygen. "You have me, baby," Eddie murmurs. He's rubbing small, comforting circle into the sensitive skin of Steve's wrists now, and it's perfect. It's wonderfully, disgustingly perfect.

"I do?" Steve asks dumbly. His brain feels fifteen seconds behind everything, but he thinks that's probably okay. Eddie seems to be just fine waiting for him to catch up.

"Yeah, Stevie," Eddie chuckles quietly. "Had me for a long time, now. Just wasn't sure if you would want me the way I wanted you."

"You want me," Steve says breathlessly, more to himself than to Eddie. "You wanna kiss me."

Eddie's resulting laugh is a bit louder, a bit brighter, this time. "I do," he says. The sadness is fading from his eyes, giving way to something that looks an awful lot like elation. Steve remains still and watches, entranced, as Eddie carefully hauls himself up until he can swing a leg over Steve's to straddle him.

Still smiling broadly, Eddie leans down until their faces are mere inches apart, studying Steve with those big, brown eyes. "You gonna let me?" he asks Steve, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Steve nods, lips parted in surprise he can't quite seem to shake, and Eddie's expression softens.

"Gonna let me kiss you like I love you, Stevie?" Eddie whispers.

Steve's not sure when, exactly, his tears had begun to dry up, but he knows they must have at some point, because they're returning with a vengeance, now. "Please," he breathes.

Eddie shifts, and Steve expects Eddie to go right back to kissing him, but that's not what he does.

Instead, Eddie releases one of Steve's wrists and cups his cheek tenderly. This time, the feeling of his thumb brushing the tears away is a familiar one, and it makes Steve smile dopily.

"You know the reason I kiss you like I love you?" Eddie asks. Steve shakes his head and tracks Eddie's gaze as it drifts towards the place where his fingers are still wrapped around Steve's wrist. His lips quirk into a smile as he uses his grip to pin Steve's hand to the mattress, right beside Steve's head, and laces their fingers together.

Their noses are brushing, now, and Eddie's hips are resting on Steve's, and Eddie's hair has fallen around them like a curtain to keep the rest of the world out, and it's so much. Eddie is everywhere, and he's everything, and Steve is completely, unquestioningly in love with him - probably has been in love with him for ages, now, and just never let himself think too hard about it.

"I kiss you like I love you, Steve Harrington," Eddie breathes, and their lips brush as he speaks. "Because I love you."

And the thing is��Steve has spent his entire life wondering what it would feel like to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was loved. It's something that's eluded him for twenty years.

So it's all the more miraculous when Eddie kisses him again, and suddenly, Steve knows. He knows that Eddie Munson loves him. He feels it in the way Eddie kisses him slowly and deliberately, like it would never have crossed Eddie's mind not to. He feels it in their linked hands, in the way Eddie squeezes his hand when Steve makes a desperate, wanton sound into his mouth.

He feels it when Eddie brushes the hair out of his eyes and smiles before kissing Steve's forehead, then his nose, and then his lips again.

Feels it when Eddie's lips begin to wander down his neck.

When Eddie sucks a mark into the thin skin above his collar bone, just because Steve begs him too.

When Eddie pulls Steve's shirt over his head with careful hands, then lets Steve do the same, because Steve needs the intimacy of skin on skin.

He feels it when Eddie stops Steve's wandering hands from venturing too far south with a firm grip and apologetic eyes, because Eddie wants him - of course he does - but not when they've been smoking. Not when there's even the slightest chance that Steve might wake up and regret it in the morning.

And he hears it, too, later that night when they're laying in Eddie's bed exchanging soft, sleepy kisses, unwilling to drift off and let the night end, just yet.

Their legs are woven together - bare, aside from their boxers - and Steve has lost track of how long they've been tangled up in each other like this. He doesn't particularly care, though. He's pretty sure he could happily spend the rest of his life exactly like this.

"Love you, Stevie," Eddie whispers against his lips. They both smile into the next kiss, and Steve's heart is full to bursting, because he believes it. He knows, now, what it feels like to be loved...to be adored.

"I love you," he murmurs in reply, relishing in Eddie's sharp intake of breath. He giggles a bit, for no reason other than the pure joy that's been coursing through his body all night. "God," he laughs. "I fucking love you, Eddie Munson.

Eddie is quiet for a moment before his face splits into a grin that could rival Steve's own, and he's so goddamn beautiful that Steve almost feels like crying again.

He doesn't cry, though. He just watches adoringly as Eddie smiles and nudges Steve's nose with his own. "Yeah, baby?" Eddie teases.

"Yeah, Eds," he answers simply.

And he's pretty sure Eddie knows - is pretty sure Eddie can feel it - because Steve kisses him for the umpteenth time that night, and he pours every ounce of his heart into it. 

Steve kisses Eddie like he loves him, because he does. God, help him, he does.

And Eddie?

Eddie kisses Steve like he loves him back, and Steve gets it now, because it’s more than just a kiss.

It’s perfect.

It’s earth-shattering.

It’s everything.

--

Shout-out to @lyphyshard for the beta!

For more of my Steddie blurbs and one-shots, check out my masterlist!

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #soft steddie #steddie fluff #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #first kiss #cw: weed #stranger things #i'm so normal about them

[abbatoirablaze]

The Debauchery Of Captain America, Chapter 6

Word Count:  1.1k

“Hey Bu-what are you wearing?” Steve gasped as I entered the workspace that he had set up in one of the many offices.  I smiled, using the duster to run along the bookshelves as I pretended to clean. 

“I’ll be out of your way in a second, Mr. Rogers…just making sure everything else is clean for you…just the way you like it,” I said seductively, bending over so that my short skirt revealed that I hadn’t been wearing any panties.  I heard a creak behind me, and out of the side of my vision, I saw Steve leaning back in the chair, his jaw tensing.  He was gripping the arm rest of the chair, “is there something else you’d like me to clean, sir?”

His jaw twitched and he took a shaky breath, “(Y/N), w-what are you doing?  W-we don’t need to clean up, especially not in here.”

I batted my lashes innocently at him, “I’m sorry?  Did you want me to come back at another time?  I don’t mind coming back if you’re busy.”

“Bunny what on earth are you doing?” he asked, his brows knitted together in confusion as he tried to figure out what was going on, “We don’t need to clean?  We just got here, and I’ve barely been in here a few hours.”

I sighed, knowing that Steve wasn’t getting what I was doing.  I dropped the act and bit my lip, looking at him, “Y-you didn’t read the next section…did you?”

“What on e-oh,” Steve frowned, his brows falling when he realized that I was talking about the book, “I-I didn’t read the journal yet, bunny.  Buck sent me a message that he needed my help with something…So I rushed on…and-”

“Oh…”

“I-is this the next section in the journal?” he asked quizzically, shutting the laptop, “the outfits?  Dressing up?”

“It’s called role playing,” I admitted, biting my lip nervously, “I-I thought it would be something you enjoyed because you said you liked dirty talk and-never mind…I-I’m sorry for interrupting you…”

“No, no, bunny, don’t go,” Steve pled, getting up from his spot at the desk.  He all but ran around it and wrapped his arms around me.  I gave him a sad smile as I adjusted the little maid’s hat on top of my head.  He swallowed, looking me up and down, “I just…I appreciate what you’re doing…I guess…I don’t know…I just don’t get it…I don’t get the point of it.  Why would you dress up like a cleaning lady?”

“Th-this doesn’t….it doesn’t turn you on?”

“I-I mean, watching you bend over in anything and seeing…all of you…that’s going to turn me on every time…th-that’s a quick way to get me…well...I just…I don’t get the point of…role playing.  I just…I have to be two people all the time…I’m your Steve…you’re average boyfriend just enjoying daily life, but I also am Captain America…so I…I just…I don’t know.  I guess I just don’t like pretending?”

I frowned and nodded, logging it into the back of my mind, “well…did you look up anything else?  What are some of the other things you like?”

Steve took a breath and looked at me, his lips forming a pout, “I...I don’t know.  Honestly, I haven’t put that much more thought into it.  Sh-should I?”

“Well, what do you like, not sexually?  About us.  About me?”

“Well, you’re positively gorgeous…and the most amazing woman I’ve ever met in my life,” he smiled sweetly, his calloused fingers brushing my cheek, “and I absolutely love everything about you.  You don’t seem to mind me being a superhero.  And you’ve never held it against me when I had to cancel for a mission…”

“Anything else?” I giggled, “not just compliments…like what do you like about me in our relationship?  Like for instance, I love the texts you always send me…well used to send…before you got angry at your cell phone and broke it…again…”

Steve blushed, “I really don’t get this modern technology.”

“I know Steve…it’s okay.  I think it’s cute that you’re old-fashioned.”

“Well,” he smiled, “I loved it yesterday when I came out of my room, and you were cooking for me…I realized that I like waking up in the same place as you too…i-it makes me think about what things would be like if we did live together…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded.  I smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before backing away, “well…I-I’ll go get changed out of this…and make you some lunch…I’ll let you get back to helping Bucky…”

“Okay…” he said nervously, “i-is everything okay between us?”

“Mhmm.”

“Bunny?” Steve’s frown turned into a smile when he heard me down the hall, in the dining room.  I bit my lip as I did the final touches on the dinner table, making sure that everything looked perfect.  And I noticed his breath hitch in his throat when he rounded the corner and took everything in, “Bunny…wh-what is this?”

“A little taste of our future,” I said sweetly, going up to him and pulling him down to my height for a sultry kiss.  Steve groaned, his arms wrapping around me as I pulled away.  I went to take a step back but was immediately pulled back to his chest.  I couldn’t help but giggle, “Steve.  What are you doing?”

“My dame did all this?” he asked softly, first referring to the table, and then referring to me, “you look like you walked straight out of my time period, bunny…”

“I figured I’d make you feel comfortable,” I said sweetly, giving him another gentle kiss, “you said you liked when I made you dinner, and when we were in the same place.  And I know that a big part of you misses the 40s.  So…I decided to do a nice little themed night for you…”

“Sweetheart…this isn’t a theme…you look like you walked straight out of the 40s.  I mean, you had the mindset already…but this…it just…it completes the picture for me.”

“I-I looked up some things after I brought you lunch,” I admitted.  His hand stroked my cheek and slid down my neck to my shoulder, “do-do you like it, Steve?”

“I love it, sweetheart,” he said softly, admiring me in a way that I hadn’t seen him look at me before, “I still can’t believe all this.  I-I mean…you did all this for me?”

“O-of course I did….”

“Bunny…”

“Take a seat, Mr. Rogers,” I replied, pulling away from him long enough to pull out one of the chairs, “I made your favorite…and I know you’ve had a long day couped up in that office…we can have dinner, and you can unwind.”

Chapter 7

Tag List:  @lohnes16, @sebsgirl71479, @melissad1974, @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

#the debauchery of captain america #soft steve #steve rogers smut #steve rogers #marvel #marvel au #the avengers #captain america #chris evans characters