#juniorwoofles

written for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘years’ rated g | 444 words | no cw | tags: established relationship, coming out, Eddie Munson loves Steve, Eddie has ADHD (Inspired by: https://www.tumblr.com/nancywheelesbian/821505213941825536/eddie-being-nervous-to-tell-the-cc-guys-hes?source=share)

Eddie can feel the nerves rolling off him in waves. He keeps playing with his rings, spinning them around his fingers obsessively. Usually Steve would be here to stop him from doing so, gently holding his hand and grounding him when he gets too twitchy. It’s one of the many, many reasons he loves him. 

Which is the reason for his nerves in the first place. 

He knows he doesn’t have to do this, but he wants to. He kind of wants to shout it from the rooftops that Steve Harrington chose him, that Steve Harrington loves him. But as nice an idea as that is, it’s also an incredibly stupid one. So no singing from the rooftops. 

But he can do this. 

He can tell his friends. 

It’ll be fine. 

Definitely fine. 

It’s Jeff that speaks first, gently giving him an intro to start from. “You good, man? Anything you want to tell us?”

“Uh, yeah, actually.” Deep breaths, Munson. You’ve survived interdimensional hell, you can come out to your friends. “So you know how I’ve been busy a lot recently and I feel bad and I kind of wanted to explain why. Because it’s you guys and I want you to know things.” They’re staring at him patiently while he tries to get his thoughts in order. So far so good at least. 

“The thing is I’m dating someone?” It comes out in one rushed breath and sounds more like a question than a statement but he said it. Or at least half of it. 

“Tell us about him,” Jeff asks. 

Eddie blinks. Once. Twice. “Him?!” it comes out strangled and broken but the guys are still smiling in encouragement. 

“Well yeah. It is a guy right?” Freak checks and Eddie can only nod. 

“We figured you were gay, Eddie. It’s fine,” Jeff reassures him. “So tell us about your boyfriend.”

“You guys are gonna get weird about it,” he admits.

“Come on, it can’t be that weird,” Gareth teases. “We’d only get weird if you were dating, like Steve Harrington or something.”

Eddie’s not entirely sure what his face betrays in his silence but whatever it is must be answer enough. 

“Damn,” Jeff whistles leaning back at the same time that Gareth says “No.”

“Yes?” Eddie says. 

It’s been years, lifetimes even, from who they all were in high school but it still sits in their bones. He knows this is about to become the Steve Harrington defence hour. He knew coming into it that it probably would be. He just has to hope they’re willing to listen. 

written for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘pride’ rated g | 481 words | no cw | tags: established relationship, graduation, post-canon

If you’d asked Steve a year ago, he’d have said there was no way in Hell he would ever come back here. If pushed, he might have begrudgingly admitted he’d be back in four years for the kids, but he could never have anticipated being back so soon.

And yet here he is, only a year after his own graduation, back again in these old, hallowed halls, trying to act like he’s not some loser who peaked in high school who can’t let go of the past. Honestly, if it was up to him, he’d have run from the hills and never stepped foot into this godforsaken building again. But falling in love wasn’t really up to him. It was just something that happened to him and he was smart enough and grateful enough to hold on tight to it when it did. He knows he’s particularly lucky that it happened to him twice.

Loving Robin was trying to fit something into a box it never should have been in until she gently sorted him out. Now Robin is one of the greatest things to ever happen to him, the other half of his soul and the reason why he knew he’d be coming back here, long before anything else happened. That’s his girl and he will stand in the bleachers and scream when they call her name and be as embarrassing as he knows how to be. It’s his warm up for when he gets to do it for the kids.

He’s not sat with her parents, though they half-expected him to. Instead, he’s sat with Wayne Munson.

Something he definitely never saw happening a year ago.

Loving Eddie was a tornado without warning. A welcome disruption to the normalcy for once. A hurricane of pet names and affection, of snark and sarcasm and blatant flirting that Steve couldn’t help but be charmed by no matter how hard he tried not to be. It’s the most unexpected thing to happen to Steve since the first time monsters crawled out of the walls, and yet he’s maybe never been happier in his life.

Loving Eddie just makes sense.

There’s so many reasons why they almost didn’t get this, but Steve’s just grateful that they did.

As they call Eddie’s name, Steve doesn’t even care if he’s the only one cheering. Fuck this stupid town and their ideas. Eddie was always too smart for them.

And now he’s got the diploma to prove so.

Eddie looks right at them, not hard to spot when they’re by far the loudest voices and winks at them as he flips off the teachers. Steve’s cheer falters into a laugh and he can’t help but shake his head as he claps as loud as he can.

Because Eddie did it.

written for @winchester-reload and SPNSummer prompt ‘shower’ rated e | 1110 words | no cw | relationships: dean/cas | tags: developing/ established relationship, the post canon sweet spot, shower sex, frottage, they're just in love and a little obsessed with each other

Dean’s in the shower by himself when he hears the bathroom door open. There’s only one person who it could be, especially when there’s no shouts or alarms to declare this as some kind of emergency. So he doesn’t panic, just waits, and hums happily when he feels someone join him, arms wrapping around his waist and kisses scattered across his shoulders. 

“Missed you.”

He could play it off, pretend that he’s not equally as affected but he’s done that for years and he’s tired of the pretence. It’s easier to be honest, grabbing one hand from where it’s hugging him so he can lift it and press a kiss to the back of it. “Missed you too.”

There’s a hum from behind him, a quiet agreement. He just takes the hand and turns it, kissing the palm of it. He lets the kiss linger for a moment before he gently drops Cas’ hand back. 

He’s letting Cas dictate what happens from here; it’s his shower Cas decided to crash after all. Sometimes they don’t do more than this, just wanting to be close. Maybe Cas will leave in a minute, maybe he’ll stay and they can wash each other’s hair and make out under the spray of the shower. Sometimes they do more. The ceramic tub isn’t great on his knees but he doesn’t care even if he can tell when Cas does. Maybe they’ll just kiss and touch until they make it to the bed, laid out between towels and blankets. 

Whatever he gets will be perfect. If Cas wants to leave him alone, his craving for contact sated, he’ll just finish the rest of his shower and go find him after. If Cas wants to fuck him  against the tiles, well, he knows from experience how much he loves that and he’s not going to say no to a repeat performance. 

Cas taps him on his shoulder and he gets the picture, letting Cas hold him steady as he turns in the shower. Honestly it’s not the best fit for them but the lack of space doesn’t really phase them when a lack of boundaries is half of what got them here in the first place. 

It still feels a bit unreal sometimes that they have this, something as normal and domestic as kissing in the shower. He half hopes the novelty of this will never wear off, that there will always be this thrill in kissing Cas.

“How’d it go?” Cas asks, pulling away after a moment and picking up the shampoo instead. It’s so normal that he kind of just melts into it. He can feel the way Cas smiles as he kisses his shoulder like he knows how much Dean loves it. 

“It was fine, easy. Just a salt and burn in the end.”

Cas hums at that, gently directing his head back into the stream to wash the shampoo away. He just picks up the conditioner, massages it in before switching to body wash and gently rubbing the loofah wherever he can reach, not content to let Dean move away for any reason.

“Could have come with you,” Cas says even though they both know it doesn’t really need saying. 

“Nah, no need, we had it covered. Besides, I like that I get to come home to you.”

He’s still trying to get used to that, being able to actually say these things instead of just burying the thoughts deep down. But it’s worth it when Cas lifts his head by the jaw, smiling all fond in a way that mirrors his sentiment. 

They might need to talk about it at some point, about what retirement could look like. But that’s a conversation for another day. For now all that matters is being taken care of, being adored so openly and just melting into every sweep of the loofah against his skin, Cas’s fingers pulling gently at his hair, the press of his lips against his own. 

The slowly pulling heat in his gut is almost a secondary thing. Sex never used to be like this, an extension of love without hurry. But then again he’s never been in love like this either. 

He’s half hard by the time he becomes aware of it, happy to just float on the sensation of being loved until he feels Cas’ hand wrapped around his dick. He doesn’t answer in words so much as he just seeks Cas’ mouth out with his own, slipping his tongue into Cas’ mouth like it belongs there. His hand comes up from Cas’ waist to the damp curls at the nape of his neck. 

There’s a chance Cas doesn’t do more than this, touches him for a bit and then steps away, waiting until they’re back in bed. But he’s been away for longer than planned, stopping for one last salt and burn a day out of the way when they were on their way back from the other side of the country. As much as he wants to wait so they can take their time, he also wants more.

Cas seems to agree with that sentiment, taking them both in hand and jerking them off together. It’s somehow both frantic and loving, like some dam broke. He’s moaning and fucking whimpering and not even ashamed of it, not when it feels this good. Not when Cas is kissing him like neither of them need any more oxygen than what they’re stealing from each other’s lungs. 

He’s not going to last long like this, not with all the gentle touches before and the heat of the water behind him and the heat of Cas against him. Not with sharp fingers holding his jaw just right. Not when he can feel the hard line of Cas’ dick against his, tight fist holding them both together.

“Cas,” he says, knowing his angel will know. He always knows. 

He gets the response he needs, growled right against his lips like it’s going down to his very soul, a familiar gravel made impossibly deeper by arousal. “Dean.” One word in both acknowledgement and agreement and he’s spilling into Cas’ hand, stroking him through the aftershocks until Cas follows. 

They’re panting against each other’s mouths until it turns into soft kisses again. Cas gently cleans them up before reaching behind them to turn the shower off and just holds them together for another moment. 

“I missed you,” Dean says again, needing to repeat it.

written for @winchester-reload and SPNSummer prompt ‘space’ rated t | 685 words | no cw | tags: developing relationship, domestic fluff, post-canon fix it, POV Dean Winchester, physical touch as a love language

It’s almost not surprising really, when you look back on how they were before. You could blame Cas’ lack of understanding social cues on being an angel but that excuse wears thin fast when you consider how long he’s been around humans in such a close capacity. It wears even thinner until it basically falls apart when you consider how Dean never put those barriers back in place, never took a step back or told him off for being too close. Sure, maybe he did once or twice but certainly not enough times to make any kind of impact. It felt like the kind of thing that had to be said at least once, just so it could be acknowledged that it had been said, but then promptly ignored. 

So really, who’s to blame for the utter lack of personal space between them before? 

It was just one of those things that other people would sometimes point out and they’d both solidly ignore like it wasn’t some giant neon light hung over them, putting them under a spotlight they got very good at pretending wasn’t there at all. 

Now though when it gets pointed out it almost feels like they’re making a deliberate point by neither ignoring the comment or Sam’s patent eye roll, but finding a way to get even closer. There’s no barriers, no defences, no reasons to pretend that they’re not basically attached at the hip. Now it makes him smile, the way he can acknowledge that it is being done deliberately, that he’s seeking Cas out the same way Cas seeks out him. 

Maybe they’re a little clingy, but hey what do you expect when your best friend drops that he is deeply in love with you, promptly dies and has to be fished out super Hell just so you can actually reciprocate? Literally the only good thing about that time was that Dean could try and figure out what he needed to say to Cas when he finally got him back. Words were never his forte, so he did kind of just grab his angel like he was about to deck him for emotional torture and laid one on him instead. 

Since then they've been all over each other. Not in a weird way or way that’s gonna scar their kid or anything, but they don’t want to let each other out of their sight, always finding some kind of excuse to touch each other. They barely need excuses before but it’s nice doing it deliberately and for a purpose. Now when their knees touch under the table Dean doesn’t have to calculate if he has to move it or if he’s left it there too long already. Now it can just stay there. Now when they’re on a hunt and walking too close, they can just fall into each other without worrying about the inch of space they had to keep to before. 

Now when it’s the end of the day they don’t need to leave a lingering hand over a shoulder before Cas lets Dean go to sleep. Now Dean can just take him by the hand and tug him down the corridors to their bed. 

Before, there was a side of the bed that had Cas’ name written on it in invisible ink. Now it’s just a fact that everyone knows. 

There’s no space between them now. Warm and sated, absently tracing mindless patterns that are probably old sigils he’s picked up over the years between the scarce freckles over Cas’ shoulders, while his angel traces over the points of his anti-possession tattoo. Cas likes listening to his heartbeat like this, hearing it slow back to a normal rhythm after, feeling it beat underneath him. 

Dean just likes holding him, being able to press a gentle kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead like it’s that simple. They’re trying to get better about re-establishing boundaries around other people but here there’s no one to worry about. Just their love and the comedown from endorphins, loved and content in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. 

written for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘micro’ rated g | 555 words | no cw | tags: pre-relationship, feelings realisation, Eddie has a crush on Steve, Steve POV

There is something about him. About Eddie. Maybe it’s because the kids had put the seed of the idea in his head long before everything happened, or maybe it was just everything that had happened. In the wake of it, he has a tendency to be over protective but this feels different somehow. Different than adopting a group of pre-teens, different than being forever soul forged with Robin. 

Not that he’s figured out exactly how it’s different yet. It just is. 

Maybe it’s the circumstances of it all. The kids happened because he’d stepped in to take a beating for them and that somehow translated to this one is our babysitter now but only when it’s convenient for us. Robin was a slow burn of a confusing crush turned torture survival turned truth serum induced confessions turned other half of his heart capital P platonic soulmates. 

They survived something together and then they had the after. 

But this time, it’s the after and he’s still surviving. 

At first it was the weeks in the hospital, the constant vigils to make sure that no one could get in until the worst of the manhunt stopped. Not that Steve’s thankful for the earthquakes, but at least it kept most of the town occupied. 

Then the weird government people stepped in and on top of making them all sign their usual round of NDAs, did at least cover the destruction of the trailer. So that was something. 

Only on leaving the hospital, Eddie didn’t exactly go home to somewhere new and unfamiliar. He’d decided to spend all his time with Steve at his house instead. 

Which was another thing. 

It was nice having a friend who was something. Different. Not a child or a Robin but a third thing. 

Maybe it had been too long since he’d had actual friends but he didn’t remember it feeling like this. 

They’re surviving. He’s just not sure why that needs to be said though. Why it still feels like his heart hasn’t settled, why he’s so on edge all the time, why he can’t calm down if he doesn’t know where Eddie is and why having him in front of his eyes doesn’t make the feeling any better. 

It’s like he’s still in the fight, only he doesn’t know what he’s fighting against or why he’s even in the fight in the first place. 

Because what else would explain the panic of not knowing what Eddie is doing. It isn't like he’s micromanaging him, he is just concerned?

Or something.

He knows where Eddie is right now. Sitting on the same bed looking apprehensive. Nervous even. 

It's one of those things in the time after in their new friendship or whatever. Steve's learned to catalogue every single micro expression Eddie has. 

This one is new but it's also not. He's realising he's seen it before without actually realising what it is. But he recognises the look now: the microcosm of emotions in the quirk of a smile, the duck of a head, the soft eyes and fidgeting. 

He lets the fight go out of him between breaths. He realises what he was fighting against, the unnameable telltale feeling his heart came to before his brain could catch up. 

written for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘steady’ rated e | 666 words | no cw | tags: established relationship, Eddie Munson has ADHD, bottom Steve Harrington, anal fingering, they're just so love

The thing is he can’t stay still. It’s like there’s so many thoughts buzzing out of his head and through to his veins demanding his attention at all times. He can’t read one chapter for an English class but he can devour whole books in one sitting or accidentally stay up half the night planning a campaign if he gets an idea he has to follow through. The point is his brain isn’t wired the same as other peoples and that’s fine. It may not have helped him get through high school but he’s finally out of there now. It only took him three tries, one man hunt and a very aggressive study group but he got there.

Actually the point is that for all he took the nickname they gave him and made it into a coat of armour to get through that hell, there isn’t anything wrong with him. He’s different, but it’s a good different as his boyfriend is constantly reminding him.

That’s the other thing. Boyfriend.

A boyfriend who loves all his quirks, who smiles fondly when he goes on tangents or forgets what he was doing and has to be gently redirected, who never makes him feel like a burden or like he’s broken.

Said boyfriend who was definitely the feature of one or two daydreams in class, something better to focus on than teachers giving the same lecture year after year.

Said boyfriend who is right now blowing every single one of said fantasies out of the water.

Usually he’s so wired and trying to filter through a hundred thoughts all vying for immediate attention but now there’s only one thought.

Maybe the only thought that will ever matter.

Steve.

Beautiful, ridiculous, wondrous Steve who’s laid out naked in his bed like a cross between a Greek god and wet dream. Eddie would pinch himself to prove he’s not dreaming but he did that after their first kiss and nothing happened so he’s going to focus on something more important.

He starts by kissing a trail over the freckles, across Steve’s shoulders and down his spine, biting at the curve of his hip which earns him a little moan. He hides his grin into the curve of Steve’s ass, presses another kiss there because that’s a thing he can do now before reluctantly sitting back up again.

His thoughts must derail somewhere in all the hypotheticals because Steve just wiggles enough to bring him back to this moment.

He kind of wants to bottle this moment up somehow, find a way to freeze it so he can keep it forever. He might just have to settle for keeping Steve forever instead.

His hands, constantly fidgeting, are completely steady, free of his usual rings. Bare but for the lube coating them. He kisses Steve’s shoulders again, feels him relax around the sweet words he leaves with each kiss. He keeps one hand on Steve’s hip, a focal point for both of them and lets his other hand slowly come up to claim what’s apparently his.

They both know this is new and different, but Steve melts around the intrusion, sighing like he’s found god from a singular finger in his ass.

Eddie might not be able to do a lot of things but he can do this.

Keeps up a steady stream of praise that’s not hard to come by, not with how perfect Steve is, keeps up a steady rhythm until Steve’s gone past panting and moaning and is just begging for more, more, more.

It’s easy to focus on that plea until another idea filters through. He groans and briefly knocks his head against Steve’s shoulders before he lifts himself off, gently soothing Steve’s protests by shuffling them around. His fingers find home again as he leans in to kiss Steve and it’s overwhelming this way, drinking the moans directly from Steve but it’s also so much better.

written for @winchester-reload and SPNSummer prompt ‘seaside’ rated g | 444 words | cw: vague references to canonical childhood neglect | relationships: dean/cas | tags: domestic fluff, established relationship, found family, past childhood trauma, Dean POV

Baby comes to a halt, asphalt grinding gently as they pull into the carpark. Like all of them, she’s still holding on even past her prime, becoming more than she’s needed to be in years. In a way, it makes Dean think of the 70s, when Cas Back to the Future-d him. They way he accidentally set John on the path of making this his family car instead of the Scooby Doo van he was eyeing up. 

It’s a full circle moment, having a baby seat in the back again. 

Jack grins at him as the car stops, still loving being shotgun before he immediately turns to the back where his sister is cooing aimlessly at the roof of the car. “Hey princess, are you ready to go to the beach?” It’s hard to say who’s the more excited out of the pair of them, even if Marie definitely doesn’t fully understand the concept of beach just yet. 

She babbles in response, absolutely besotted with her brother and Dean catches his husband’s eye just to smile at him. It’s something beyond healing to have this, to be able to give it back to the kids; to let Jack be free to have fun without the weight of the world, trying to do good by their daughter and give her the childhood neither of them got. 

They get out of the car, and place Marie in Jack’s arms, watching her smile as he bounces her. They knew he’d be good at this but still it’s another thing to see him thrive, making his baby sister smile his number one priority every day. It’s his job but in the way cleaning his room is. Something he’s expected to do, not something that is his sole responsibility. Dean’s gone over it with Jack enough times that they all get it, but he needs to make sure he won’t pass on his trauma or make the same mistakes his dad made with him. 

He’s determined to be a better dad to them. Hence, driving all the way out to the coast just so the kids could play in the actual ocean. 

Cas can sense it, the little sweep of melancholy and kisses his cheek as he helps get everything out of the trunk. “You good?” he asks, a loaded question made as gentle as possible.

written for @winchester-reload and SPNSummer prompt ‘breakfast time’ rated g | 250 words | no cw | relationships: dean/cas | tags: developing relationship, domestic fluff, post-canon fix it, POV Sam Winchester

Sam walks into the kitchen and then promptly walks back out. He doesn’t think they saw him for the less than five seconds he was there considering they’re well… 

On one hand he wants to be happy for them, he really does. It’s about damn time honestly and he doesn’t want them to go back to whatever nonsense they had going on before with the longing looks and refusing to acknowledge anything between them. But still, it would be nice if they could not be sitting on each other’s laps making out like they’re in their own private world. 

Which they’re not. They’re in the kitchen. The for everyone, public space kitchen. And as much as Sam wants to let them be happy in peace he also wants food and coffee which shouldn’t be an unreasonable request for breakfast time. That kind of makes the decision for him. He clears his throat obnoxiously loudly and waits until he actually hears movement before he walks in again, pretending like it’s the first time he’s been in the kitchen this morning. 

He’ll give them that at least. 

At least they brewed coffee before they started kissing so maybe it’s not all bad. Maybe he could learn to live like this, even if he has to announce he’s about to walk into every room he comes across. 

Maybe they’ll calm down when it’s less new. Maybe. Hopefully.