cherry-smokes

[cherry-smokes]

My Strange Lady ch. III

It's Robbie's birthday and everyone meets Birdie. ch. I ch.II Paring: Single dad!Steve Harrington x oddball!reader Word Count: 3.8K Note: oooooooh they are so back. They are so back and everyone sees right through them.

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Bell bottoms or a skirt. Bell bottoms. Skirt. Your eyes dart between the two options laid out on the bed.

“What do you think Teddy?”

You look down at your buddy. Tucked away safely within your shirt. His head peeks out from the collar. It seems like he’s leaning left. Bell bottoms it is. Granted he could have just been moving his head around trying to lick off your face mask, but....he could have also been gesturing towards the bell bottoms. You think it's the latter.

“If I look underdressed I’m blaming you.”

You aren’t sure what would be considered underdressed. You’ve never been to a kid's birthday party. You’d never hung out with a kid until Robert came along. You couldn’t help but grow attached to him. He was sweet. He didn’t seem put off by your demeanor. You know you’re strange. You were a kid once too.

Making friends wasn’t easy for you. Your personality always got you into more trouble than anything. It's not like you meant to be this way. You just were. Your mother was an odd woman herself.

She was into a lot of the witchy stuff. She was superstitious and strange and you loved her so fucking much. She was your best friend. The only person who understood you without even trying. You could simply breathe in her direction and she would already know what was going on. You swear to this day she was some sort of psychic. You took care of her when she stopped being able to care for herself. Until she died. After that, you couldn’t find it within yourself to stay. There was nothing left in that town for you.

Coming a few towns over made sense. You tried the city for a bit. Which was fine but you craved some sort of familiarity. Hawkins felt like the perfect middle ground. New place, and new people, but close enough to home that you didn’t feel like you were completely abandoning your mother.

You didn’t expect to make friends like you had. Especially not with a child. Especially not with someone like Steve.

He felt so…big. Big hair, big personality, big heart. You were sure he was only hanging out with you because Robert seemed to like you. But he invited you to his kid's birthday party. In person. With a handwritten invitation and everything. That’s not just someone being nice…right?

This is all strange to you. You’ve always quite enjoyed your solitude. Now, you look forward to Sundays and you can’t help but get lonely. Which, in all honesty, has been a new feeling for you since your mother passed. It’s why you got Teddy in the first place. You’d gotten so used to looking after someone, having someone around. It became…odd, to not have that. Teddy filled that void well enough, but now two big-haired boys have ruined that for you.

You wipe your face mask off with a wet cloth. Not wanting Teddy to feel left out you take a clean edge and wipe gently at his tiny face. Your hair is the next part. This goddamn hair. You'd never been very good at styling it. Your arms get tired too quickly and it never ends up looking like the magazines say it will. Your mother used to help. The both of you had just been so content with the routine, that you never bothered to ask how to do it yourself. She never offered either. She must have believed there would never be a reason to.

So now you're in your bathroom, with your rat, pulling out poorly placed rollers from your hair. It doesn't look terrible, just not exactly how you thought it would. You take Teddy out from within your shirt, one of those tops with built-in bras. You stocked up on them after you got Teddy, it stops him from falling out from under your shirt. Like those baby strap things you see some mothers wear at the library...kind of. For a second you think about Steve wearing one of those. With a baby Robbi-Robert in it. Tucked in. You have to shake the thought from your head as you look down at your Teddy on the bathroom counter.

"Up or down?"

Two beady eyes stare back at you.

"You can be so unhelpful you know that? Just because you don't have to worry about this kind of stuff doesn't mean you can't give me advice."

He crawls around the counter. Bumping a claw clip onto the floor.

"See, was that so hard?" You pick him up once more and begin walking back to your room.

"Now let's go pick out a top."

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"Down...ok less down. Higher. That's too high-Jesus Ed!"

"I'm following your instructions, I am not the problem here!" The snarky response from the wild-haired man only warrants the bitchiest eye role from Steve. Putting a banner up in his backyard shouldn't be so hard, but apparently, any manual work that doesn't involve cars is impossible for Eddie.

"Ok just leave it. I'll have Hopper help me."

"Good luck tearing him away from the kid."

Looking over his shoulder he sees Hopper holding his son upside down by his legs. Robbie is giggling up a storm. Steve knows he won't have the heart to drag Hopper away when they're having so much fun.

"I can help."

Steve almost falls off the small chair he had been standing on. "Birdie! Fu-uuh hi. You scared me, how did you get in?"

You shrug and gesture over your shoulder. "The gate was open."

"Oh. Right yeah, of course. Sorry, I'm all over the place right now, dad brain."

"It's okay. It was probably rude of me to just walk in. I'm sorry."

He's quick to reassure you. "No, not at all you're always welcome here. Half of these people never knock so." He gestures around to the group of adults and teenagers helping set up his backyard.

"Okay." You set the present you'd been holding down on the grass as you move to take over Eddie's place. It's wrapped in brown paper, with a tweed bow and what looks like small handpicked flowers tied in front. "Excuse me."

The look on Eddie's face would have made Steve laugh if he hadn't still been trying to calm his heart rate down. Eddie holds his arms up as you grab the banner from him. "You're excused?" The metalhead can't figure out if you're a raging bitch or just lacking social awareness. He retreats from the side of the house to go stand by Robin who is 'arranging' the snacks.

You step onto the chair Eddie had been using. Lifting the banner to exactly where Steve had been wanting it to be. "Right here?"

Steve has to tear his eyes away from your lower back where your sweater had ridden up. He feels like a perv and rushes up to his chair to tape his side of the banner down. "Yeah, that's perfect." He reaches over to hand you the tape when he's done with his side. Your arms are shorter than his so your chair wobbles a little as you reach over. He's quick to grab your arm to stabilize you. "Woah there hotshot! How about I bring it over to you yeah? Let's not risk you getting a concussion before the party has even started."

His comment makes you giggle. You try not to overheat when he walks over to you. Your fingers brush when he hands you the tape, his hand hovers over your waist to prevent you from falling and you wish he would just touch you.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, Robin and Eddie are watching from the snack table.

"Who the fuck is that?"

"I don't know, he called her Birdie and then she basically stole my job."

Robin's voice turns into a sharp whisper. "That's Miss Birdie?!"

Eddie's eyebrows go up, matching her tone. "You know her?!"

"No! Robbie and Steve had told me she was invited but I thought she was going to be some old librarian lady. Not a total babe!"

"Okay, but if I called her a total babe you'd get mad and call me a creep?"

"Yeah because you're a creep, it's different when I say it."

"Not really."

Their bickering is cut short by Robbie's screeching. "Miss Birdie!"

Everyone's head in the backyard turns towards you at once. Suddenly you're seven again and you're introducing yourself to your class, scared that your skirt is too dramatic and wishing your mom would pick you up.

Robbie runs up to you. You step down from the chair and he almost knocks you over when he wraps his arms around your legs. "Youcameyoucameyoucame!"

It happens almost instinctively. It catches you off guard how you wrap one arm around his shoulder and the other on his head. "Of course I did. It was a nice invitation, thank you."

"Hop-Hop, Dusty, Ed-Everybody come! This is Miss Birdie we're in bird club together!"

Steve's heart feels full. He knows that his son has grown fond of you. In this moment he feels selfish for keeping you to himself all this time. As everyone-his family walks over he can't help but buzz with excitement. They have no idea how lucky they are to meet you.

You lift the hand that had been on Robbie's head up shyly. The other one stays in place. "Hi."

Steve sees you in a way he never has before. Timid and quiet. He's desperate to help you out. "Everyone this is Birdie, she's a new friend of ours. This is Hopper, Dustin, Lucas, Eddie, and Robin." He points each of them out for you.

Your eyes light up with recognition. Excited that you have some sort of knowledge in this situation. "Oh! Robin! Robert talks a lot about you!"

Robin looks confused that you're using the kid's full name. None of them do. He's Robbie. Kid to Eddie. Hopper looks betrayed at this moment.

"You don't talk about your Hop-Hop?"

Robbie looks shy. It tugs at your heartstrings in such an ugly way that you push down any fear you have of speaking��up, just to defend him.

"We talk about birds a lot. Robins especially, it's what got him to join the club. I think it's just a circumstantial thing that he's always talking about Robin because we're always talking about Robins. I don't think it's like...a personal thing."

Hopper's analyzing you. Steve can see it in his eyes. Looking you up and down. Staring at the hand you have over the kid's shoulder and taking in your words. "I'll take your word for it, Birdie."

Steve knows there's no way for you to know this, but that's about as close to a blessing anyone can get from that man.

Later, Robbie's classmates arrive and everyone is taking advantage of the bouncy house Nancy and Jonathan pitched in to rent. Parents are by the snack table, chatting amongst themselves. Steve brushed off some of the skills he learned from his parents. Making easy conversation comes naturally to him. He thanks them for stopping by, and thanks them for the presents. He talks about the weather and PTA meetings.

You've been away. He can't tell if Dustin is talking your ear off or if it's the other way around. Regardless, when people start to filter out it begins to just be the people he loves the most in his backyard. He finds his way to you. It's easier leaving Robbie to his own devices with Hopper, or Robin. He doesn't have to hover around because he knows his kid is in good care. Steve finds you sitting sideways on a lawn chair. Legs over the armrest, chewing on a carrot. You're tucked into yourself. The sun has begun to go down, and for a second he thinks about going inside to get you a jacket.

"-you'd like it! I'll talk to Eddie about getting you into a campaign it's super fun I swear!"

"Are you trying to get her to join your fantasy cult?"

Dustin gives him a nasty glare. "It is not a cult. You're just not creative enough to understand it, Steven."

Your eyebrows shoot up. Steve shoos Dustin away with a white lie just to get a moment alone with you. "Yeah alright. Robbie's asking for you. Why don't you go hang out with him before Eddie steals the 'best uncle' title from you?"

In an almost comical way, Dustin rushes out of his seat next to you to find Robbie.

"Steven huh?"

He goes a little red as he sits down in the chair next to yours. "He just likes to call me that when he's pretending to be mad at me."

"What does he call you when he's actually mad at you?"

He looks over at you. For the first time tonight, he isn't looking after his kid, or entertaining some acquaintance. He's not keeping an eye on the snack table to see if he needs to restock chips or make sure no kid is hurting themselves on the bouncy house. Instead, Steve is looking at you. The light from the porch creates a nice hue around you. You're wearing the same off-the-shoulder sweater you had on when he first met you. Your hair frames you perfectly and he thinks you might be the prettiest thing he's seen in years.

"What?"

You laugh then. He feels sick. He hasn't had a single drink tonight but your laugh makes him feel like he just took a sip of a beer he shouldn't have.

"What does Dustin call you when he's really mad at you?"

"Oh! Uh...I don't know. I'm not sure he's ever been mad at me. Not like really mad at me I guess."

You lean your head on your shoulder. "That's nice. That's a nice way to live."

Steve nods. "It is."

You look shy suddenly. "Thank you for inviting me."

His eyebrows draw together. Like he can't find a reason as to why he wouldn't. "Of course. I'm glad you came."

You smile, and Steve feels so lucky. He's been seeing that a lot more from you. A smile used to be rare from you.

"Your family is nice."

Steve shrugs. "They can be a lot."

You shrug back at him. "I like a lot."

It feels like some sort of confession. I like a lot. I like you. I like this, I'd like to be a part of it. Please let me be a part of it. 

“Me too.”

He didn’t expect this to happen. Of course, he always hoped he would find someone who Robbie liked. Who liked his family. Who liked him. He just never expected it to be with someone like you. Steve’s never done the friendship thing before the boyfriend thing. Every relationship he ever had started with the intention of becoming one. There’s this level of fear of wanting to cross that bridge with you. It’s not just Steve who likes having you in his life, it’s Robbie too. Now his family knows you, they want to make plans and bring you into their dynamic. It feels like there’s so much more to lose.

Steve thinks that no matter how pretty you are. How smart and lovely. How much he wants to have more with you he can’t. It’s too much of a risk. So, he groans like a dad typically does and stands up to call Robbie over to open up his gifts.

The kid squeals and rushes over to the table. Everyone gathers around him, Jonathan grabs his Polaroid and documents the whole thing.

$25 from Hopper, which to Robbie seems like a fortune. A big Lego set the kids all bought together. A knit sweater from Joyce. The Lion King on VHS from Robin. A toy guitar from Eddie. Jonathan captures all of Robbie’s reactions with the camera.

Finally, Robbie gets to the last present. Which had been placed behind every other one. It stands out like a sore thumb. Colors much more muted than the bright wrapping paper that now collects on the grass.

“Is this yours Miss Birdie?”

You nod. You look like you’re trying not to smile so hard at the fact that he knew it was from you without there even being a name on the wrapping paper. Steve is willing to bet that if he reached over and touched your cheeks they’d be warm.

Robbie unwraps your gift much gentler than the others. He places the flowers that had been tied in the tweed next to him as he reveals the present. Inside, there are a few picture books about birds. Under it a small notebook and some colored pencils. The nice kind, with the fancy packaging.

“It’s so we can draw together. On Sundays, if you want.” Your voice is so soft. Like you’re scared he’s going to hate it.

Finally, at the very bottom of the stack of items, Robbie pulls out a piece of paper. His brows furrow and he takes a second to sound out what’s written on it. Suddenly his face lights up and a camera flash goes off.

“Robbie bird!”

He turns the paper around proudly. On it. The Robin you had been drawing the first time Steve and Robbie joined you to bird watch. In your handwriting, it says ‘Robin Robbie Bird’

Robbie runs around showing everyone the drawing. You’re standing, hands clasped together tightly against your chest as you rest your chin on them. There’s a feeling burning fierce from within your chest. Something warm and tender. You feel so strongly you have to contain it within yourself. Robbie eventually makes his way to you. You kneel to his level as he throws his arms around your shoulders. It’s the tightest hug you’ve ever gotten, how could you not return it just as strong?

“I’m-m gonna draw you a Birdie Bird!”

“Like….just a bird?”

Robbie steps back to look at you. He’s on a sugar high from the cake, and he’s always been a cuddly child. Naturally, his hands cup your cheeks, the drawing scrunching against your face.

“Noooo! A Birdie Bird! Cause-cause this is a Robbie bird-you have to get a Birdie Bird!”

Your cheeks are kind of squished together, but Steve can still see that look. The same one you always give Robbie when he does something so innately him. The same one Steve gives you.

“Okay.”

Robbie rushes over to his dad, who picks him up and grabs the drawing as his boy hands it to him. “Woah bud! This is great! We can frame it in your room how about that?”

His son enthusiastically nods. You look up at the two from the grass below. Still in the same kneeled position you had been in. You wrap your arms around your knees.

You don’t notice how everyone watches the way you look at the pair.

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When you left, you shook everyone’s hands politely as you said your goodbyes. Robin went in for a hug, your hand was already out and you basically stabbed her with it. An awkward fumble as you both ended up shaking hands with one arm at each other’s shoulders for a moment. Robbie got a hug. Steve was envious of it as he walked you towards your car.

At least until you gave him a hug of his own. In private, away from prying eyes. Your body felt cold, you smelled like incense and jasmine. He wishes he could remember what you had said to him. A thank you, a see you soon, but it all became clouded by your very essence.

He wore a dorky smile on his face as he walked into his backyard, Hopper was quick to burst his bubble.

"Strange lady."

"She's not strange."

Hopper gives him a deadpanned look.

"Ok- fine she's a little strange, but she's nice! Robbie likes her a lot."

"And what about you?"

Steve should have known if anyone was going to clock him and say something, it would be Hopper.

Their bond came out of nowhere. For a long time Hopper had just been the guy who let Steve off with one too many warnings. However, when his parents gave him the cold shoulder after Amanda became pregnant, Hopper really showed up. The pregnancy wasn't inherently what pissed his parents off. It was the fact that Steve and Amanda didn't want to have a shotgun wedding. For different reasons. Amanda didn't want to get married so young. Steve's not sure she wanted to get married at all, and Steve...

Well he wanted to be in love. His parents were too ashamed with him having a child out of wedlock. 'What will people say!?'

Thankfully, Steve wasn't completely alone. Everyone helped where they could. However, when Steve confided in Robin, or Joyce about how scared he was. How he didn't know the first thing about being a dad, they just told him he'd be fine. Reminding him how great he was with all of the kids in the group. Hopper was the only person who gave him the hard truth. That being a great babysitter wasn't the same as being a great dad. The kids were already in their pre-teens when Steve started looking out for them. Not only that but they were going home to their own parents. Hopper made sure Steve knew it wasn't going to be easy. That he was going to have to make tough calls and be the bad guy every now and again. Hopper shared everything he knew about being a father with Steve. In the process he apparently got to know Steve well enough to see through him.

"Well, of course I like her she's my friend."

"I sure as hell don't look at my friends like that."

"I wasn't looking at her like anything-"

"Kid, you were looking at her like the sun shone out of her ass."

"First of all I'm not a kid. I'm almost thirty, I literally have a child-"

"Don't change the subject. You like her, I'm just wondering why you haven't done something about it."

"It's complicated Hop."

"It's not complicated, you're making it complicated. I'd say you should make a move before someone else does but something tells me she wouldn't be so easy to approach when she's not already head over heels for a guy."

Hopper begins walking away while Steve speaks up. "She is very easy to approa- wait what do you mean head over heels did she say something?"

"No but she had the same dumb look on her face that you did all night."

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Later, when Robbie is asleep and Steve is putting away his toys, he lingers on the stack of pictures Jonathan gave him before he left. Sifts through them until he lands on the one he took when Robbie saw your drawing.

The Robbie bird. Steve examines the picture. Tries to burn it into his mind. The boy just looked so happy. Huge smile, and bright eyes.

He thinks about what Hopper said. In that moment Steve realizes the risk he was planning to avoid is one he’s desperate to take.

[cherry-smokes]

missing dad steve rn

I miss that guy too. I’ve been fighting for my life this week but I promise. Dad Steve. Is in the drafts. Chapter three completed. Just needing a little proof read and hopefully I’m releasing him back to you soon. My goal is to send it as soon as I can catch just a little itty bitty moment of peace and quiet. 🤩🤩🤩

[cherry-smokes]

Birdie is a Spencer Reid variant. Just thought I would put that out there.

[cherry-smokes]

My Strange Lady ch. II

Steve begins to learn more about the strange woman who works at the local library. He might even be beginning to call her a friend. ch. I Paring: Single dad!Steve Harrington x oddball!reader Word Count: 3.1K Note: this is a reader insert, I just don't really use y/n in my work so instead the reader goes by the nickname Birdie here. Also, a slowwwwww burn. Sorry y'all I love to yearn.

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The library garden is beautiful. Steve had never really bothered to check it out before. It’s a small thing. Two benches with a few small trees and flower bushes. There’s a small swing set as well. It’s sun bleached and Steve is willing to bet it creaks like crazy. The trees are decorated with bird houses. Simple ones, probably a little unstable but the wood is engraved beautifully. He can’t help but wonder if you had anything to do with that.

All last night Steve’s tossing and turning had nothing to do with the looming distress that came with loving someone more than yourself. Instead, his mind was clouded with ideas of you. He could hear your bird call in his dreams. The way his name slipped from your lips as if you had known him much longer than you really did. He can’t help but feel that you might be that kind of person. The kind that immediately knows everything someone is hiding behind their eyes. He wonders what you might have seen behind his.

He can’t tell if that fills him with dread or excitement.

As he walks hand in hand with Robbie, approaching you on one of the benches, he thinks it might be excitement. You’re wearing a long skirt today. Big worn leather boots and a tube top along with another cardigan. You must get cold easily. He wishes he could will the cool breeze to stop for you.

“Hi Miss Birdie!”

You look up from your lap revealing a sketchbook where you’ve begun drawing a bird.

“Good morning Robert.”

You look behind the child and right at Steve. You stare for a bit and he thinks you might be checking him out. He feels himself stand a little taller, shoulders rolling back with a small rush of confidence.

“Good morning Steve. There’s a stain on your shirt.”

Not checking him out, got it. He looks down and finds a rogue ketchup stain from the hash browns they had that morning. He was so caught up on making sure Robbie didn’t ruin his nice outfit he hadn’t even looked at his own.

“Oh sh-ooot.”

You lean over into your bag. You’re starting to remind him of Mary Poppins with that thing, even more so when you pull out a small pack of wet wipes. "I get stains all the time." You hand it over to him and he gives you a small nod as a thank you. Robbie takes it upon himself to sit right next to you. Pressing against your side and looking past your arm at your drawing.

“What kind of bird is that?”

“It’s a Robin. There was one on that branch over there a bit ago. It left. Maybe it’ll come back.”

Robbie begins giggling. He leans into Steve’s side when he finally joins them on the bench, wet wipe shoved into his pocket.

“What are you laughing about bud?”

Robbie covers his face like he’s about to share a secret. It wouldn’t be a good one considering how loud he says it through his giggles.

“It’s a Robbie. It’s a Robbie bird.”

“It’s a Robin.”

Your voice lacks any malice. Like you’re genuinely convinced the kid just heard you wrong. Robbie just shakes his head no.

“I’m gonna call it a Robbie bird.”

You look perplexed. Eyes moving back and forth from your drawing to the kid.

“Okay.”

The boy just giggles louder. Steve notices the way you can’t help but smile a bit too. It’s contagious, he knows the feeling.

Eventually Robbie does grow bored of bird watching. Which apparently to you, means waiting for birds to come around so you can watch them. The boy runs off to the creaky swings, leaving Steve alone with you.

“I’ve never been out here. You were right it’s nice.”

You don’t look up at him as you finish up your drawing. You reach up to the tree behind you both and pull a small berry from it. Crushing it on the bench to rub the pigment onto your page. It shades the Robins chest a dull red.

“I know it is.”

He’s hitting a dead end here. He thinks for a second you might not be interested in talking to him but you glance at him like you’re expecting him to continue the conversation.

“Do you come out here often?”

He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth. They sound more like a bad pick up line than a genuine question and he technically already knows the answer. You at least come every Sunday morning. He’s sure you’ll tell him that too.

“Sort of. The first two weeks I was working here I spent inside rebinding all the damaged books and reorganizing some of the shelves. Deborah’s got me up front now, I think she wants to retire soon.”

Well. That kind of answered his question. He thinks.

“Would you take her job if she did?”

You shrug.

“Well, do you like your job?”

“I like the clicking sounds the keyboard makes. I like this garden, and the shelves look much nicer than they did before I fixed them...I think I like parts of my job.”

Steve nods.

“I think I get what you mean. I kind of feel the same way.”

“Where do you work?”

He leans back into the bench. Making himself a little more comfortable as he keeps an eye on Robbie.

“Uh, the hospital.”

"Are you a doctor?"

"No I uh-I work the front desk."

“Like a receptionist?”

He breaths out through his nose. “Yeah. Like a receptionist.”

It’s not what he expected to be. He knows it’s not the most impressive job. It doesn’t really scream ‘I’m financially stable and successful enough to provide for two people and maybe a third if anyone is interested!’

“Hm…I wonder what sound your keyboard makes…”

He’d like to start looking at you with a look other than confusion on his face. The more you talk to him the further from that goal he gets.

“What parts do you like about your job?”

He really thinks about it. He shows up doesn’t he? He hasn’t gone totally insane sitting behind the desk so there must be something.

“Uhm…well I like…talking to people. Most of them show up in bad moods, or in pain. It’s nice to try to make them feel better I guess. I know I’m not the one helping them but it’s nice to at least send them to the right door. Plus the kids always get super excited when I pull out the candy jar.”

You hum. For a moment you don’t say anything. Sitting in comfortable silence. Which Steve has never enjoyed, there’s nothing comfortable about silence to him. He feels it in this moment though. He hears the breeze, the creaky swing set, and the sound of pencil against paper.

“What does Roberts mom do for work?”

Suddenly the silence is daunting again. He doesn’t want to tell you about how much of a mess that part of his life was. He loved Mandy-Amanda. At least he thought he did. After she left he realized that wasn’t the kind of love he was looking for. Amanda was a lot like the people his parents like to hang out with. Steve felt like he fit in with her well enough until he realized he wasn’t fitting in, he was shoving himself into a suit that wasn’t his size. Then she got pregnant and he thought that maybe they could make something work. Amanda and Steve weren't totally different. You could say they came from similar backgrounds. While Steve tried to avoid becoming his parents by raising Robbie differently, Amanda avoided becoming her parents by not becoming one at all. He’d be lying if he said he wasn't still angry at her. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t understand why she left too. Love is weird.

“I’m not sure.”

You catch the look in his eyes. Steve thinks his theory was right when he sees the way your own soften. Like you know everything he’s trying to avoid saying, and you’re letting him believe you don’t know otherwise. You pretend you’re changing the topic for your own sake and not his.

“Before I moved here I had this friend. Well kind of. We spent a lot of time together at least. I knew a lot about her. She talked a lot. I never knew what she did for work though. I convinced myself she worked at a salon because her hair always looked nice and she was always giving me recommendations of what to do to my hair but she could have just been really into hair. Who knows.”

“Why didn’t you ask her?”

You shrug. “It never came up.”

“You still talk to her?”

You shake your head no. It doesn’t seem to bother you the way it would bother him.

“Don’t you get lonely?”

“No, I’ve got Theodore. He’s great company.”

He should have known you had someone. That’s always how it goes right? Steve starts making up this fantasy in his head that maybe he still has a shot at meeting someone special and then they hit him with the whole ‘my boyfriend would love you! Please come over for drinks so you can witness what true love looks like!’ thing.

“Oh! How long have you been together?”

“Two years. I think he might be getting lonely though. I’m thinking about getting him a friend.”

Steve wouldn’t need you to find him a friend. He can make his own. He’s a grown man. What’s Theodore doing with his life if he’s sending you out to find friends for him?

“Can’t he do that himself?”

You look at him like he’s an idiot. “There aren’t really rats in my apartment for him to find Steve. Unless they’re hiding in my walls.”

“Theodore’s a rat? Like…a real one?”

You nod your head and reach into your bag once more. Pulling out various objects before settling on a small stack of Polaroids of Theodore. The rat. He’s dark brown with black beady eyes and pink ears. He’s honestly kind of ugly, though Steve doesn't have the heart to tell you. He can’t wrap his head around why someone would want a pet rat.

“Of course you have a rat.”

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to imply but I feel like you’re trying to imply something.”

He’s glad you don’t seem to get offended easily, you have this air of confidence around you that he’s kind of jealous of. “I just mean that you don’t seem like the kind of woman who would have a conventional pet.”

You smile at him like he just told you the ground you walk on is golden. “Thank you Steve.”

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Steve and Robbie have begun a nice routine with you. Weekends are being spent at the library and Steve can’t complain. Not only is Robbie tearing through books like never before, but he’s also gotten to know you better.

You get cold easy, as he guessed. Your best friend is your rat. Who you adopted on a whim whilst at the animal shelter. Originally you had gone in looking for a cat. However, you felt terrible thinking that Theodore would never be adopted and that he was probably terrified being surrounded by so many predators. Birds aren't the only think you know too much about. You know everything. It doesn't matter what random comment Robbie makes, somehow you're able to turn it into a full conversation. Steve loves it. He never cared too much for school but he thinks he would have been valedictorian had you been teaching him instead.

You've become a friend. A constant in not only Steve's life but Robbie's as well. Which is why Steve was quick to agree with his son about inviting you to his birthday party on Friday. He was in the middle of making the invitations. With Robins help, although she was mostly just sealing the envelopes. The invitations are a formality. Everyone who matters already knows when to show up. Most of these are going to be handed out to Robbie’s classmates tomorrow anyways.

"Dad! Can we make one for Miss Birdie!?"

"Of course we can, I don't have her address but I could drop it off at the library tomorrow before school okay?"

His son nods enthusiastically, messing around with his crayons as he doodles on some of the invitations. Adding his own personal touch to them.

"Who's Miss Birdie?"

Steve realizes now that he's had you all to himself. Well, him and Robbie have. He's kept his friendship with you private. He'd like to think it wasn't intentional but it kind of was. He couldn't help but notice that his feelings have become a little more than friendly. His chest tightens when he thinks about you. It's worse when he sees you. He finds you so endearing. The way you disarm him, how honest you can be without any fear of judgement. When he's typing away at his work computer all he can think about is how you like the sound of your own. How maybe you're both typing at the same keys in different places. When he sleeps his heart aches at the thought of you sleeping under the same moon, hoping that you're warm under piles of blankets. If he so much as mentions you he's scared Robin will see the way his pupils practically turn into hearts. He hasn't felt this way since he was a teenager.

"She's our bird watch buddy!"

"....since when do you guys watch birds?"

Steve sets the invitation he was working on aside. "We started a while ago. Miss Birdie runs it, she works at the library and Robbie wanted to join her club."

Steve is grateful that his son has the same affinity for talking as his aunt because Robbie takes the attention off Steve as he begins telling her everything he's learned about birds from you. Robin is so busy entertaining her nephew she doesn't see Steve's smile as he writes out your invitation.

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The next morning Steve wakes up late. In his rush to get Robbie dressed and fed he overlooks his own appearance. Robbie looks as presentable as ever. Hair done neatly, a nice long sleeved stripped shirt and little overalls. Steve however, pulled on whatever wrinkled sweater he found in the clean pile he had forgotten to fold and his tried and true jeans. He forgoes his own breakfast as he rushes to put some Eggo's in the toaster for his son. It isn't the most nutritious breakfast so he packs a few extra snacks in Robbie's lunch box to make up for it. He can't help the guilt that eats at him this morning.

The guilt dissipates, if only a little as he walks Robbie up to his classroom. Just in the nick of time. Robbie is flustered as his dad gives him a hug and a kiss on the forehead.

"You won't forget right? You're gonna go right now?"

"Yes Robbie, I pinkie swear I will drop the invitation off right now."

Robbie furrows his brows as Steve holds out his pinkie. He interlocks his small one with his fathers as they both lean in to kiss their thumbs.

"See. I promise. I love you, be good today okay?"

"Mhm, love you dad."

Steve knows stopping by the library will make him late for work. He tells himself he'll do it anyways because a pinkie swear is sacred. Technically, Robbie would never know whether Steve dropped off the invitation before or after work but he has morals okay! It totally isn't because he thinks seeing you might make his morning a little less shitty.

If that was the case he would have been right. His day somehow feels brighter when he walks in and sees you standing by one of the shelves. You're in your own world, too busy neatly organizing the books to notice him until he's right by you. You don't flinch, but you do a double take and suddenly you don't look so stoic. A soft smile decorates your face when you realize its him. It makes him all gooey inside.

"This is new."

He looks down at himself. Not exactly sure what you're talking about. "What is?"

"You don't usually come in on weekdays. Or without Robert."

You turn towards him now. Books forgotten in the cart behind you.

"Well I'm just trying to keep you on your toes. Can't have you getting bored of us."

Your hand reaches up and suddenly any air of coolness he had is gone. You brush his wild hair down, he remembers he didn't even get a chance to look at himself in the mirror this morning. He can't imagine what his hair must look like if you feel the need to fix it for him. It's been a really long time since someone has touched him like this. He lets you do it until you feel content.

"I'd never get bored of you."

When you become a parent you get used to always being considered a team. An entity. For years now it's been 'Steve and Robbie.' He loves it that way don't get him wrong. Loves his son more than anything, but he can't help but beam at the fact that you said you'd never get bored of him.

"...Oh! Yeah...uhm-well I-I was just stopping by to drop this off."

He sounds like a dork. He feels more silly than when he was striking out in a sailors uniform at the mall.

You take the envelope from his hands. The words 'For Miss Birdie' are written in his neatest handwriting.

"Robbie's birthday is this Friday and we wanted to invite you. You totally don't have to go if you don't want to. It's not going to be anything crazy but- y'know I-we like you and we wanted to extend the invitation."

You look up at him with this look he can't really describe. You hold the envelope like its something precious in both hands and press it against your chest.

"Thank you Steve. I would really like to go. I-thank you."

"Great!" He responds a little too eagerly, he clears his throat before speaking again. "Yeah no, that's great. We'll see you then."

You nod at him and he waves at you before turning around to leave. He looks back at you once to wave again. A second time just to look at you. You've turned back to your books, but you don't move to grab them. Instead you bring the envelope up to your face, covering your smile with it.

Steve shows up to work thirty minutes late. His coworker Sally makes a face at his appearance. "Rough morning?"

Steve smiles as he sits behind the reception desk.

"Great actually."

─────────── · 𓅫 · ───────────

[cherry-smokes]

omg when i was younger my dad and i’d get haircuts together and sometimes my cousins would tag along - and one of my cousins - who had very little hair at the time - would insist that her hair be cut too - so the barber man would spritz her head a bit and snip snip around her head to make it seem like she was getting a haircut too… and i feel like that’s steve with robbie and farah fawcett. babyboy wants to be exactly like his dad what do you mean he can’t have thr spray! >x( and bless steve he’ll do anything to keep his boy from frowning!

it’s very upsetting to me that birdie has no cats. maybe she can pick up a stray soon haha (i trust your vision haha just manifesting because i love cats and i’m tickled by the idea of no nonsense birdie doing baby talk at either an impressed or the cuddliest cat)

also i think birdie has a crow. a whole murder of them. they bring her little trinkets and follow her around. robbie thinks she’s a disney princess. steve’s not sure he’s wrong.

(there’s this guy on tiktok who’s living my dream crow life, they wait for him to come come, line the streets to see him off, and i can’t be certain i’m not making this up but i seem to remember the crows descending to protect him against someone/something? either way, would be super cool haha i’d love to befriend a ‘wild’ bird)

very excited for the next part(s) + i love robbie lord! or birdie lore!! i’ll take some stevie too, anything you feed us i’ll peck away at <33

Oh my god that is such a sweet story:’)

Crows are soooooo Birdie coded. Sadly she hasn’t gotten her hands on one as a pet but never say never.

[cherry-smokes]

pwease sir can we have some more of steve and his strange girl? and robbie!! ?

bad twist impression aside, i loved the fic!! so fun!! so endearing!! i love robbie he is so precious and i love his inquisitive little mind and earnest enthusiasm and our girl’s special dynamic with him (already)

i’m picturing birdie with a book on birds for her new pal on sunday and he thinks christmas has come early and she’s like “it’s so you get more out of the club” but she’s secretly very pleased 🥹

birdie has a cat, no?

also steve dresses robbie up sooo cute!! little dungarees and fuzziest sweaters (they match sometimes)!!

sorry these are such random thoughts haha i’m half asleep but soo excited for robbie and steve’s book house adventures ft birdie

I love your random thoughts. This is my version of bird watch club. Robbie lore club. Steve knows how to dress himself so one of the easiest things to do as a new dad was dress his kid. Robbie is his mini me! This applies to the hair too, he’s too scared to go in full throttle with Farrah Faucet spray because he’s terrified the fumes are gonna go to the kids head. He’s been spraying it into his hands and working it into Robbie’s hair that way. Don’t ask him what the science is behind that, it just makes sense in his head.

As for Miss Birdie it is so interesting that you mention a cat because, in either this next part or the third installment that is brewing in my drafts right now….she does indeed have a little companion but I fear….it isn’t a cat.

[cherry-smokes]

My Strange Lady

Life has thrown many curveballs at Steve, so he shouldn't be so surprised when he begins to grow fond of a very peculiar librarian. Paring: Single dad!Steve Harrington x oddball!reader Word Count: 3.1K Note: this is a reader insert, I just don't really use y/n in my work so instead the reader goes by the nickname Birdie here.

─────────── · 𓅫 · ───────────

Steve always wanted to be a father. He had a plan, fall head over heels in love and have a big wedding. While his big house always gave him the creeps as a kid because of how empty it was, Steve wanted to fill his own with kids and a dog if they wanted one. The halls wouldn’t feel haunted, they would be full of memories. Crawling with proof of life there. Crayon marks on the walls, stains on the carpets, baby gates and everything. While he didn’t get the wedding, or the big house, he did get the crayons and the stains. He got Robbie.

His sweet baby. Who came out with the same head of hair as his daddy and an even bigger heart. Steve made sure to let him feel as deeply as he wanted to. He knows how long it can take a person to come out of that cold shell when they’ve been conditioned to think that feelings are a sign of weakness.

Steve wouldn’t trade their little life for the world. Of course he still spends endless hours at night fretting over whether or not he’s good enough to fill both roles in Robbie’s life. Dad guilt. You can’t escape it, but Robbie is healthy and happy and so very loved.

When Robbie started sleeping in his own room Steve struggled with it more than he did. He would wait for him to fall asleep and lay on the floor next to his small bed with a pillow and a blanket. He did this until his shoulder started perpetually aching and then he realized maybe it was time to stop.

Steve has tried to devote every waking moment of his life for the past five years to Robbie. He’s on his own here, so as much as he wanted to be a stay at home dad Steve took up a job at the hospital working the front desk. It paid well enough and gave them both good health insurance. So he braved through putting Robbie in daycare and tried his best not to spend his day worrying about how he was doing. If kids were being nice to him, if he was being nice to others. If he was eating his lunch and if the adults at the daycare center were being sweet to him. It’s a little easier now that he’s in kindergarten. Steve’s more used to the dynamic of Robbie being away for a few hours a day. Steve's met his teacher, a nice older lady with glasses that make her eyes look buggy and a kind soul. Robbie adores her, he makes her drawings with messy handwriting misspelling his appreciation for her. He’s good like that. He loves sharing, sharing his feelings and his snacks. He gives out compliments like they’re nothing but the best part about it is that he really means them.

He’s such a kind kid. That’s probably why he almost cried when he told Steve he forgot to return some books he got at the library and now they’re overdue. It’s four thirty in the afternoon and the library closes at five. While Steve tried convincing him that it would be okay if they returned them tomorrow morning before school, Robbie wouldn’t budge.

The poor guy just felt so guilty.

So now Steve’s rushing into the library hand in hand with Robbie ten minutes before they close, praying to whoever will listen that the cranky librarian Debby isn’t cruel enough to turn them away. He prays even harder that she won’t scold Robbie for an overdue return. Instead of Debby he spots a much younger woman standing at the desk stacking books neatly into a big leather bag. It’s bulky and she pulls things out and puts them back in as if she’s playing Tetris with her books, glasses cases, hand sanitizers, and various other miscellaneous objects. She wears a deadpanned look on her face. She kind of reminds him of a younger, much prettier version of Debby.

Her hair is in a messy updo. She’s in all black, in an off the shoulder sweater with some frilly lacy shorts and tights. He catches a glimpse of her shoes from under the desk, bright red ballet flats. The amount of rings she wears make clinking sounds against each other as she sorts out her bag.

“Excuse me?”

Her head snaps up. He gets a good look at her finally, and she really is much prettier than Debby.

“Returning books?”

Steve snaps out of his daze and nods his head.

“Yeah, sorry we’re so late I know you guys are about to close but my boy just really wanted to return his books.”

The woman shrugs as she moves to sit down by the boxy dated computer on the desk. “We don’t close until five. It’s four fifty two, you’re allowed to come in until five. I’m getting paid regardless of if people come in or not.”

He expects her to smile, or give him any inclination that she’s trying to make them feel better about the situation. Instead she just has the same somewhat bored look on her face and he realizes she’s just saying it because it’s true.

He hopes his confusion isn’t visible on his face as he hands over the books along with Robbie’s library card. She grabs them and begins logging them into the system. She looks at the card and then to Robbie.

“Are you Robert?”

The boy nods.

“These books were due yesterday.”

The boy tucks into his father’s side in shame.

“I’m sorry.”

Steve’s about to tell her off. Scold her for making a kid feel bad about something that was an honest mistake but she speaks up before he can.

“Thank you. Deadlines are probably only implemented on kids your age to try to build up a routine of responsibility and time management. It’s probably a good sign you found it so important to turn them in before the end of the day today. Most kids wait at least a week before they bother coming in here.”

Robbie looks just as confused as Steve. The woman looks between the two of them. Something lights up in her eyes as she notices that their eyebrows scrunch the same way. She’s not made of stone. It’s sweet, and she decides to just explain what she meant.

“This was very responsible of you Robert.”

He eases up, and suddenly he isn’t hiding into his father’s side out of shame but instead out of shyness.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She finishes logging the books in and stacks the books on the return cart next to her. She spends a second organizing them from thickest to thinnest, which isn’t a huge difference since they’re children’s books but it’s curious to Steve that she takes the time to do it. When she turns around she holds out the library card to Robbie.

“Robert.”

He reaches out to grab it before speaking up. “My name is Robbie.”

“It says Robert on the card.”

“It’s a nickname.”

“Would you like me to change it in the system?”

Robbie shrugs, then you shrug and as Steve’s about to thank you to walk away but Robbie speaks up once more.

“You’re nicer than Miss Debby.”

You think about this for a moment.

“Deborah’s old. People get mean when they’re old.”

“Why aren’t you mean?”

Steve thinks you might turn mean at his son’s insinuation that you’re old. But for what seems to be the tenth time in the span of the last few minutes, you surprise him again.

“I’m not as old as Deborah. Maybe I’ll get mean when I’m her age. We’ll have to wait and see.”

Robby finally seems at peace with this answer and says his thank you’s once more. Your rings clink again as you wave to him. Steve says goodbye and thank you quickly as Robby starts rushing out with a tight grip on his hand.

“We have to go fast, she's closing!”

He looks behind him and he swears for a second, he almost sees your lips quirk up. Maybe it was the light or his lack of sleep catching up to him that made it seem that way. As they walk to the car Steve can’t help but realize he never got your name.

─────────── · 𓅫 · ───────────

Steve loved when weekends came around. He always asked for time off, wanting to spend them with Robbie. On days where he has to go into work he’ll usually have Robbie stay with whoever’s available. Usually Robin or Hopper. To Steve’s surprise Hopper fights for his Robbie time like he’s fighting for his life. He loves that kid almost as much as Steve does. Almost.

Luckily, this was a free weekend for Steve. He savored getting to sleep in a little. He always wakes up feeling like he could use a few more minutes of sleep. He’s restless, wakes up multiple times in a night and tosses and turns too much, for multiple reasons. One of them is that his bed just feels too big. He’s been thinking about getting a smaller one but they’re expensive, he’d rather save the money for when Robbie grows and needs a bigger bed himself. His extra few minutes of sleep are interrupted by a sudden weight next to him.

He feels him before he sees him. Small digits poking at his face and whispering. “Daaaad. Wake up. Rise and…and uh…”

“And shine?”

Steve’s voice is rough with sleep. He peeks an eye open to look at his son. His hair is wild, sticking up in different directions and his pajamas are askew, one pant leg higher than the other. Steve’s heart swells as he opens his arm to bring Robbie in for a morning cuddle.

“Mornin’ buddy”

Robbie tries to mimic his fathers gruff voice, but it comes out a little warbled when he replies. “Morning buddy.”

Steve can’t help but chuckle. He ruffles up his son’s hair before asking what he wants for breakfast. Robbie hums, and makes a big show out of thinking about it as if Steve doesn’t already know the answer.

Weekdays mean quick breakfasts. Eggs, toast and jam, pre-cut fruits, things that can get them both fed and out the door. Weekends mean pancakes. Steve makes them extra special for his kid. Uses fruits to make little faces in an attempt to convince him that eating healthy can be fun. It works like a charm, Steve feels pretty smart for that.

Robbie eats like his dad. He just about inhales his food and Steve, like a hypocrite, has to ask him to slow down through a mouthful of pancakes himself. Robbie, being the angel he is, starts chewing slowly. Probably too slow, but Steve has learned to pick his battles. Robbie waits until he’s done chewing to speak up.

“Can we go to the book house today?”

Steve loves the terms his son uses for things. He gets the point across so Steve’s never really felt the need to correct him. Not yet at least, he just wants him to be a kid a little longer. Before he starts wanting to spend more time with his friends than his old man. So naturally Steve agrees to take him to the book house.

They walk in and browse the shelves for a bit, Robbie picks up some children’s books and then Steve walks him over to the ‘grown up’ shelves so he can find something somewhat interesting to read. He’s never been a big fan of reading for fun, but lately he finds it’s better to read in bed than stare at the ceiling thinking about every past, present, or future thing in his life.

He looked away for a second. Just one second. He was reading the inside cover of Frankenstein, when he turned to make a joke to Robbie about how it would be too scary for himself, he was gone. Everyone talks about how your stomach drops when you lose sight of your kid. Steve’s didn’t just drop, he felt like he was about to throw up all of those smiley pancakes he ate earlier.

He rushes out of the isle they were in and turns the corner. He was about to start screaming like a madman, thankfully before he does he spots two familiar heads of hair over by the check-out desk. Steve can’t even find it within himself to be mad at Robbie for roaming off, he’s just happy he didn’t get lost. Or worse.

He starts walking towards the pair, seemingly in a very intense conversation with each other. He wants to interrupt and beg Robbie to never scare him like that. Maybe give him a quick lesson about the importance of not running off, but he’s derailed when he gets close enough to hear the conversation.

“-it’s my auntie Robin’s name, but-but with different letters at the end because I’m a boy and she’s a girl.”

“Robin can be a gender neutral name. It’s a type of bird, not all Robin’s are girls.”

“What kind of bird is that?”

“It’s a Robin. They have a red-well kind of red, kind of orange. Like a brick colored chest. They sound like this-“ she then proceeds to whistle in a way that really did sound like a Robin. “You’ve probably seen them around, or heard them. They’re pretty common.”

Robbie’s jaw drops. “You can speak bird?!”

Steve finally walks up, drawing your attention away from his carbon copy of a son and to the original model instead. He tries to find something casual to say. Or clever. Anything really, but your hair is styled differently than it had been the other day and you’re wearing a pretty blue cardigan. He gets distracted and you beat him to the punch.

“Hi Steve.”

He waves and before he realizes he never told you his name.

“Uh- hi. Sorry I didn’t introduce myself properly the other day but at least Robbie did it for me.”

“He didn’t. I looked you up in the system. There’s only two Harrington’s on there so I assumed the second one was you.”

Steve feels something warm crawl up his neck. Something he probably hasn’t felt in the last five years. “You looked me up?”

“I got curious.”

You’re so…honest. Like you couldn’t care less about niceties and ‘polite’ manners like introducing yourself to people. Not in a rude way, just in a sort of…odd way. To him at least. Maybe some people wouldn’t find it all that strange. People who didn’t have parents like his, maybe that’s why Robbie didn’t seem to mind.

“Dad-dad the lady speaks bird!”

“Bud you should call her by her name-“ “I don’t speak with birds, I just mimic them.”

You speak over each other, except you finish your sentence and Steve cuts himself off. He reaches a hand out to shake yours. “Sorry, we didn’t catch your name?”

Your hand reaches out to him, and he feels a spark shoot up his arm. An actual spark, static probably. You both flinch away and you give the softest laugh while gesturing to your sleeve. “Sorry. Wool.”

He laughs, a breathless thing and he and Robbie stand patiently waiting for an answer to his, kind of, question.

You stare back at them for a moment before coming to your senses. “Oh right!” You give them your name and it dances around Steve’s head for a moment. His son saves him any embarrassment of looking like a total doofus.

“Is it a nickname like Robbie?”

You shake your head no. “Nope. Just my full government name. People usually acquire nicknames from loved ones or in honor of something meaningful they did.”

“Meanful?”

“It means something special buddy.”

His son makes an ‘ooooooh’ sound before dramatically gasping and throwing his arms on your desk. Steve watches you freeze suddenly, like you were finally caught off guard. For some reason you can’t figure out what to do other than place your arms on the table as well, parallel to his own. “You just did something me-meanf-ugh! Special! We can call you uh…uhhh-“

Steve decides to take the reins on this one.

“Birdie?”

“YES!”

Robbie dramatically throws himself at Steve and starts shaking him. He realizes now maybe chocolate syrup wasn’t a smart choice on the pancakes. “You’re so smarty pants!”

Steve pats his son on the head endearingly as he thanks him for his compliment.

“Do you know a lot about birds?”

You look at him when you realize he’s talking to you and nod.

“They’re really fascinating creatures. For being so small they’re actually quite smart. Some Bowerbird’s actually build nests that are reminiscent of auditoriums to make their calls reverberate off the walls. They also decorate their nests in very meticulous ways to attract partners. It really begs the question of whether birds are able to have aesthetic opinions.”

"Huh, strange."

"Yeah. I have a bird watching club here but it's usually just me. Sometimes Deborah joins, but I think it's just to avoid telling people where to find the self-help section. They usually end up telling her their life story. I think people assume librarians are close enough to therapists but Deborah is the last person I would go to."

Steve can't help but let out a real laugh. It comes from deep in his chest and escapes him before he can stop it. You smile, or at least you begin to before you stop it promptly.

"Can we be in your club?"

Robbie's never shown any interest in birds. Steve is thankful he suddenly is, because a full smile actually breaks through from you. Steve isn't sure if it's the air conditioning in the library, like the static from your cardigan, or if it's just you. Regardless, your smile is followed by shivers up Steve's spine.

"Sure, it's a public library. So it's technically also a public club, anyone can join. It might be boring but the garden is nice." You lean down towards your bag and pull out a crumpled flyer. It's not colorful. Plain white paper with plain black lettering that states "Bird Watch Club, Sunday mornings" along with the library's address and what looks like a hand drawn sketch of a bird. He couldn't say which one but it was pretty. He thinks the flyer looks a little off-putting. Kind of like it's a trap to lure someone in. When he sees a much softer, kind of happy look on your face, the flyer doesn't seem so scary. You're like the Mona Lisa, not frowning but not quite smiling.

"We'll see you tomorrow morning then."

─────────── · 𓅫 · ───────────

a/n: this ended up wayyyyyy longer than I planned. I'll probably have more parts to come. I've gotten attached to Robbie.

[cherry-smokes]

i see your robby and raise you ✨robbie✨ (i dont know why two letters make it a whole other name in my head but it does)

i also like james? jamie? (ooh could be after hopper? bc in this au steve gets the father he deserves 🙂‍↕️)

theo? noah?

(don’t know if you can tell but you’ve unleashed a beast haha very hyped for your writing!!)

now this….you’re speaking my language here. I actually do agree that the two letters make a huge difference. Also I loooove the idea of hopper stepping in to be a sort of father figure to Steve, a pillar of support when he needs it the most. Steve’s parents were probably not supportive of him being a single father and they weren’t around a lot to begin with so Steve’s son really does see the group as his family. Aunt Robin, uncle Eddie and grandpa Hopper. He is a very very loved child.

[cherry-smokes]

“write it! write it! write it!” we all chant in unison about single dad!steve with his oddball gf

that’s all the encouragement I need. Brainstorming baby names. I’m thinking Robert. Robby for short (Steve named his baby boy after Robin because she’s the closest family he has, even if not by blood)

[cherry-smokes]

thinking about single dad!steve who falls in love with a blunt kind of reserved reader and she loves his baby boy so much but she’s never really spent a whole lot of time with kids. So she talks to him like he’s an adult and Steve is just smitten with his odd woman.

You’re all eating sandwiches at the park and his sweet boy just can’t stop asking you questions like-

“Where do sandwiches come from?”

“The store sometimes. Unless you make them at home.”

“Where do the- the ‘matos come from?”

“Tomatoes are grown from seeds, they grow in gardens. Well some do, most of them are grown in huge fields where they get picked and processed to be sold.”

His son nods, probably not fully understanding what you mean but not caring enough to press about what ‘processed’ means.

“Does ham grow in the ground too?”

“Meat doesn’t grow, it comes from-“

Steve has to cut you off before you completely traumatize the kid into a life of veganism.

[cherry-smokes]

Can't keep my eyes hands off of you.

AKA the time this title spoke for itself. Pairing: Steve Harrington x bassist!reader Word count: 750 Note: This lives within the Sugar and Steve universe but can definitely be read as a stand alone blurb! Warnings: drinking, PDA, and Sugar and Steve getting a little hot and heavy at the bar. Nothing crazy but please MNDI!!!!! 18+

Your skin feels slick. The air is humid and your shirt sticks to your skin. You smell like sweat and beer thanks to Eddie. When you all walked off stage your lovely, doting, proud boyfriend greeted you with a round of beers. One of which Eddie grabbed, opened, and proceeded to swing around in celebration of a good fucking show. You can't blame him. It was a really good show. The kind that has your blood pumping and your confidence at an all time high.

Despite all of the sweat and beer, all of these things scream sex appeal because apparently Steve can’t keep his paws off of you. You’re trying to stay engaged in the story Robins sharing with the group but he’s pressed against your back and his chin is digging into your shoulder. He reaches around you, covering your hand with his own as he guides you to bring your beer up to his lips.

You give him the meanest side eye, your eyebrows scrunch together and he smiles slightly making some beer drip down his chin. You think you must be a sick twisted person because you get the urge to lean in and clean him off yourself.

“Can you stop eye-fucking each other, I’m still talking you know?”

You quickly pull your beer away accidentally knocking against Steve’s front teeth. You flinch and reach your empty hand up to his mouth to soothe the ache. He slightly bites your fingers and you pull back before he can get any ideas, or maybe before you do.

“Shit! Sorry. Sorry Robin I’m listening- we’re listening.”

Steve wipes his chin on your shirt and looks up at Robin.

“I definitely wasn’t.”

You elbow him softly causing him to grunt and lean forward even more.

Eddie wraps an arm around Robin and starts guiding everyone to the pin ball machines across the room.

“C’mon Buckley. We can finish the story away from these goddamn heathens.”

You flip him off as they walk away before turning towards your wounded boyfriend.

“You’re so mean to me baby.”

The way he says it makes you almost believe him. Yet, he has this hungry look in his eyes and his big hands feel tight on your waist.

“Mhm. You like it when I’m mean.”

He nods gently, one of his hands moves towards your belt buckle. He grabs it harshly and pulls you towards him, chests pressed against each other as his other hand travels to settle itself in your back pocket.

If you were a more...discreet person you would push him away. You'd blush and look away and follow your friends to play those loud creaky pinball machines. You aren't a discreet person though.

You let Steve pull you in and kiss the fucking daylights out of you. He's so warm against you. He doesn't hesitate to let his tongue ease over your bottom lip and he sighs when you meet him halfway with ardency. He lets out a soft groan, you feel the rumble of his chest against your own as his hand grips you through your jeans. You can't help but reach up to grab onto the collar of his shirt, pulling at it as if you could be any closer to him. The tips of your fingers graze the coarse hair on his chest and you're burning.

The hand he had on your belt finally lets go and travels upwards. He grazes your shirt, slightly riding it up as he trails his hand up to the back of your head. His lips are desperate against yours, and you can feel his breath hitting your face as he inhales and exhales deeply, trying to avoid leaning away as much as possible.

You beat him to it however. Yearning to look at your sweet, desperate, pretty boy. You lean back and see that his eyes are hooded, lips swollen and red. You realize now that it isn't the adrenaline from playing a show that's got you hot and bothered. It's him.

"Where'd you go baby?"

Baby. Babybabybaby, you go crazy when he calls you that. Baby, honey, sweetheart, Sugar. All things that sound so sweet. You want to take him away from this bar and be anything but sweet to him.

"I didn't go anywhere. Do you want to go somewhere big guy?"

His eyes go wide, his mouth drops a little and he suddenly looks like a teenager who just saw tits for the first time before he speaks.

"God, yes."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

[cherry-smokes]

Don’t you want me baby?

AKA Steve doesn’t want you to meet his parents and you start spiraling Pairing: Steve Harrington x bassist!reader Word count: 1.2K Warnings: hurt/comfort because Steve is just too into Sugar to let her hurt too long.

You’ve always known you weren’t a ‘bring home to the parents’ kind of girl. Frankly you took a lot of pride in it. At the end of the day you didn’t want to meet the people who created the assholes you’d dated before. Them not offering just took the pressure off your shoulders. Relationships were always just a fleeting, sometimes fun thing. Most guys got bored after realizing they prefer to be the rockstar instead of the groupie.

You’ve denied yourself the desire for love for a long time. It didn’t feel tangible before. So why would you plague yourself with the disappointment of not being enough for someone. It was easier to live that way.

Steve made you feel different. Steve made you feel like that part of you which you had locked away for so long finally had a space to run free. That you weren’t an idiot for thinking that there truly was someone out there who would love you unconditionally. It feels too soon to say that but you couldn’t stop the freight train that was Steve Harrington from crashing into the brick wall you had built around your heart.

That’s probably why this all hurts so much.

It hadn’t even felt like a big deal to you at the time.

“I could just meet you at your place?”

“Oh…no, no I’ll come pick you up.”

“You always pick me up, let me drive. I wanna take care of you this time.” it came out teasingly. With that goddamn smile that made Steve’s knees buckle and his heart beat so strong he could feel it all the way up to his shoulders.

“No just- I’ll pick you up”

“Do you think I’m a bad driver or something?”

He chuckled at that. “Considering the fact that Eddie taught you to drive, I’m doubtful of your abilities.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve never gotten a single ticket. So you should let me treat my pretty boy to a night out and let me make him my passenger princess for once.”You grab his face and kiss him sweetly. Teeth against teeth as you both smile, but his fades faster than yours does.

“My parents are home this weekend, you don’t want deal with them.”

“Who said I didn’t want to deal with them?”

“They’re a lot.”

“Well, so am I.”

“I just think it’s better if I pick you up, yeah?”

You’ve never had a smile wiped off your face so fast. You nod and lean away from him.

“Sure, whatever you want.”

Steve makes you feel…soft. Had it been any other guy this would have never bothered you, but Steve wasn’t any other guy. He was someone you had grown to really care for. Someone you actually saw a future with, or wanted to at least. So him not wanting you to meet his parents felt like a bad omen.

If we’re closer to your family, physically and in any other sense, you would have introduced Steve to them in a heart beat. The closest thing you had to that was Eddie and the guys, and Steve had already met them.

So yeah. This was a pretty big fucking deal to you. You know the kind of girls he’s dated before. Prim and proper. The kind of girls who go on to be beauty queens or valedictorians. That never bother you before, but now you’re thinking about every reason why he wouldn’t want you to meet his folks.

Your reputation isn’t…polished. You’re abrasive, and overwhelming to some people. You hang out with ‘freaks’ and you make a living off of playing in dive bars and bartending. None of that really screams ‘life long partner.’

Maybe that’s what he’s looking for. Maybe you’re just a stepping stone for him. Some crazy story he can tell his Wall Street friends one day when he finally decides to give into his father’s wishes.

You wish all of this wasn’t running through your mind right now. Sat on your couch with Steve’s arm around you. You feel tense. Like you don’t really fit next to him. It’s been this way all night. At dinner, in the car, even at the door step to your apartment when he asked if you wanted to watch a movie instead of calling it a night.

You know what’s coming. He’s too attentive to not notice. You’ve seen how he’s cowered into himself all night and the way his eyebrows have drawn together as you brush off his affection.

You don’t want to be cruel, but you get mean when you’re hurt. You’ve never known anything else. You wish you knew a better way to deal with it but you don’t and you can’t look at this man who makes you burn and lie to him like you have to others.

So when he asks you what’s wrong you can’t bring yourself to say it’s nothing.

“Are you ashamed to be with me?”

You feel it then. His arm tenses up and it moves away from around your shoulders as he leans back to look at you.

“What?”

“I know you heard me don’t make me repeat myself.”

He looks genuinely confused. Like he can’t understand why you’re asking this.

“Why would I be ashamed of you?”

“I don’t know Steve, you tell me.”

He looks you dead in the eyes. The weight of his gaze makes you feel heavy, like you’re sinking into yourself.

“I’m not ashamed of you I l-you know how I feel about you.”

You want to believe him. You want to so badly. You want to nod and agree and curl into his side so he’ll kiss your neck and whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you forget every horrible thing that’s ever happened to you both. But you can’t.

“You don’t want me to meet your parents.”

“No. I don’t.”

He’s like one of those Greek statues you see in museums. Gorgeous, and strong. The way he says it is…steadfast. One of the loveliest things about Steve is that he is stubborn…now it feels like one of the worst.

You don’t want to cry in front of him. You don’t want embarrass yourself so you choke it down like everything else and turn towards your television screen.

“Ok then.”

You rack through your brain trying to decide if you want to kick him out kicking and screaming or just let him go on his own. Before you can decide, his hand is on your face and he’s turning you towards him. His grip on your chin is tender but strong. Just like him.

“I can see those gears turning in your head. It’s not because I’m ashamed of you.”

Your eye twitches like it always does when you’re confused. He fucking adores it.

“You’re stubborn, and loud, and probably too honest for your own good. You’re…vulgar, and brilliant and you drive me fucking insane and you’re too goddamn good for my parents. They wouldn’t know what to do with you, I don’t know what to do with you but I’m so fucking thankful you’re letting me figure it out. I just want to keep you to myself so I can woo you long enough to not run away when you do meet them.”

Your bottom lip trembles. You’re thankful he doesn’t point out the quiver in your voice when you finally speak up.

“I’m not that stubborn.”

His smile is golden. You let him drag you into him as he presses his lips against yours. You want to savor it and keep him there forever but you can’t stop his hand moving from your chin and grabbing at your hair as he pulls your head back so he can he trail sweet pecks against your cheek and down your neck.

“Whatever you say Sugar.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Tiny little angsty blurb for you guys<3

[cherry-smokes]

I Want You So Bad

AKA the time you got tired of waiting. Based off of I Want You So Bad by Heart. Pairing: Steve Harrington x bassist!reader Word count: 1.5K Warnings: Sugar is uncharacteristically soft for a man.

Two dates. You've been on two dates with Steve and he's been perfect.

On your first one he took out to dinner. A fancy restaurant that you would never take yourself to. Steve insisted you order whatever you want, when you blushed at the price he just brushed you off.

"Steve this is...very expensive."

"You deserve expensive."

You learned a lot about Steve across the fancy table cloth. He's witty, he doesn't flinch when you bite back at a quip. Which you found undeniably attractive. Excluding Buckley, one of his closest friends is a high-schooler, Dustin, who you've heard about through Eddie. He calls him a dork, and a nuisance. The way he smiles when talking about how 'annoying' it was when Dustin and his friends would make him sneak them into the theater lets you know he loves the kid. When you ask about his parents he dodges the question. You don't press, but you can only assume he isn't close with them. You find yourself sad when he asks about you, just because you want to know so much more about him. You want to know what his favorite songs are, what side of the bed he sleeps on, how he takes his coffee, what he was scared of as a child. You want to know exactly how many moles he has and what his hair would feel like if you were to run your hands through it.

He said all the right things. Asked the prefect questions and clung to every word you said. Opened every door for you, he even let you pick what tape you wanted to listen to in the car! Then, he walked you to your door, and kissed you on the cheek. Which was sweet! At the time you assumed it meant he wasn't just looking for a hookup.

Then the second date came around. You walked around town, and went to the record store. You shared headphones in the listening booth. He listened to your favorite albums, never said an ill word about them even though you could tell he wasn't particularly enjoying Metallica. He even bought a Zeppelin tape to play in the car for you. Afterwards, he drove you home, walked you to your door with an arm around your waist, and he kissed you. On your cheek. Again.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't starting to feel frustrated. After he left, you freaked out for about an hour. It made you feel silly, and ridiculous because it’s just not something you do! You’ve never let yourself lose sleep over a guy. Then again you’ve never liked someone the way you like Steve.

He's sending every signal that he's into you, but why won't he just kiss you? Steve doesn't have the reputation of a guy who takes things slow. It’s hypocritical of you. You know better than to base his actions off of who he used to be. Yet, there’s this ridiculous part of you that likes him so much you can’t help but overthink every single move he makes, or doesn’t make. Was he not as into you as you thought? Maybe he wasn't looking for a relationship? Maybe he's just a really...attentive friend?

You plagued yourself with doubts until he called you up and asked you if you wanted to go see a movie. You said yes, obviously. How else are you supposed to figure out if he’s trying to be more than friendly with you?

So now you're standing in front of your mirror wondering if you should wear jeans or a skirt. You hate that the question of what he would like most even crosses your mind.

When he knocks at your door you almost trip over your feet as you rush to open it and you have to take a moment to get your shit together.

Your hands shake as you grab the handle and open the door.

The cold autumn air hits your face as you swing it open. It works in your favor as it cools your flushed face when you see Steve. His hair looks as perfect as always. His sweater wraps around his arms in a way that makes you feel warm inside. You feel jealous of it as you wish you could wrap yourself around them like it does. Worst of all he smiles at you, and seems so genuinely happy to see you. Friends don’t do that right?

“Hey.”

You gasp for air. “Hi!”

This is ridiculous. You sound more excited than you’d like to. Any air of mystery you wanted to keep is gone.

“Uh- let me just grab my shoes I’ll be out in a second.”

“Take your time, I’m in no rush.”

You quickly lace up your boots. The door stays open and you try not to fumble over your laces as you feel Steve’s gaze on you. When you stumble onto your feet and walk out towards him, he lays his hand on the small of your back as you lock your door.

You try to ignore the shiver that crawls up your spine but it’s impossible when you can feel his warmth pressed against you and the smell of his shampoo reaching your nose. Even the hairspray isn’t enough to turn you off, everything about him is intoxicating. Dizzying. He makes you feel so foggy it’s embarrassing.

“This is a really nice sweater.”

His hand dips to the hem, he fiddles with it as he speaks. “It’s soft.”

You turn your face him, he doesn’t move his hand.

“Thanks.”

His lips quirk up as he tugs at your sweater to guide you to the car.

You’re so fucked.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

He insisted he didn't mind sharing a straw, and put his arm around your shoulder. He leaned in and whispered soft jokes and comments about the movie in your ear and you felt his arm tense up when you giggled at his words. An attentive friend doesn't do that.

A friend doesn't tell you he doesn't want you to go home yet. He doesn't play Heart in the car while he drives you both to lovers lake. He sure as hell doesn't look at you like that when you're talking.

“What?”

He shrugs. “Nothing.”

You give him a disbelieving look. “You’re looking at me weird.”

“I’m just looking at you. Nothing weird about it.”

You lean against the headrest facing him. You smile at him like you did when you first met him. Hoping to make him blush the way he did then. “You’re looking at me like you like me or something.”

“I do like you…or something”

His words are quiet. If you weren’t listening so intently you might have missed them as they flew under the music from the radio. His car is warm, the heat is on and you can still smell popcorn on him. He’s so close but not close enough and the way the moonlight hits his face makes you desperate to touch him.

“Then why haven’t you kissed me?”

There it is. It’s too dark to see him blush, but you see the way his shoulders tense. He looks down and cowers into himself. He’s so curious to you. He can be so sure of himself, so cocky. He’ll grab at your clothes and whisper sweet nothings to you in the dark of a theater. Yet, the moment you force him out of that shell he turns so shy.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. He chuckles and you see his fingers start to fidget against his steering wheel.

“I just- I wanted to earn it I guess.”

“I think you earned it the moment you called me sweet Steve.”

He looks up at you then. His fingers tense around the steering wheel again and his gaze gets so intense you hold your breath. It must have been seconds but it feels like ages when he leans in. He hovers, and you can feel his eyelashes kissing your cheeks.

Suddenly. You feel like yourself again, and you reach your hand up to the back of his head. His hair feels just as soft as you imagined it between your fingers as you pull him in. His lips are soft against yours and you feel him gasp slightly as you press against him. His hand finally leaves the wheel and lands on your thigh. It sends sparks through you as he digs his fingers into the flesh there. Not intrusive or invasive, almost like he’s trying to keep himself grounded.

You never believed people when they said they felt fireworks when they kissed. You don’t now. Kissing Steve is tender. It feels more like a bonfire after you’ve been in the snow too long. It envelops you like a weighted blanket and you curse whatever power created you to need oxygen to survive when you have to pull away for air.

His hand travels up to cover yours behind his head. He holds it there, like he’s scared you’ll pull away.

“Have I earned another one yet?”

Friends definitely don’t ask that.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

a/n: Sugar and Steve are so back. This was shorter than I wanted it to be but I’ll have my asks open for anyone who wants to send in requests or questions. I’m so thankful for everyone who shared their support for my last post! This is a project I want to continue and expand and I would love to hear from y’all:)

the images used are from Pinterest once again!

[cherry-smokes]

Sugar Me

AKA the time you meet Steve at one of your gigs loosely based on Pour Some Sugar On Me by Def Leppard Pairing: Steve Harrington x bassist!reader best friend!Eddie x bassist!reader Word count: 3k Note: reader goes by Sugar and uses she/her pronouns Warning: Sugar is a flirt:)

Sometimes you think you would be the most miserable person on earth had you not been in your 20’s in the 80’s. Rock and roll is alive and well and as Eddie likes to scream when he’s four beers in, it will never die!

Meeting him was one of the greatest gifts you were granted. Despite what the rest of Hawkins thinks, he’s the greatest guy you know. The rock scene was supposed to be all about going against the grain. Expressing yourself and indulging in things most people are too scared to indulge in because of what others might think. Despite this, it’s still infested with misogyny. Especially in a place like Hawkins.

Getting people to take any of your interests seriously as a woman is damn near impossible. Not with Eddie though. When he asked you to join Corroded Coffin you didn’t think twice. Eddie trusted you. He appreciated your talent and you knew going into it that you wouldn’t just be eye candy to draw in a crowd as the only chick in the band. To Eddie, how you dressed or how you presented yourself on or off stage didn't mean anything. As soon as you got that Bass in your hands, that's all that mattered to him.

Before you met him, finding your place in Hawkins had been frustrating. You'd tried other bands but they just never worked out. When guys in bands are raunchy and bold they're praised. For them it's a badge of honor. God forbid a woman dresses in the same skin-tight clothes and flirts, now that would just be down right slutty right?

Thankfully for you, the guys in the band don't share this sentiment. However they do have their moments. They're just guys after all.

When Eddie mentioned he’d invited his friends to your gig tonight you were a bit surprised. You’ve never been one to judge a book by its cover, but from your brief knowledge of Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington the last place you expected him to want to be on a Friday night is a dive bar at the edge of town.

You’ve heard Eddie’s Hail Mary about how-

“He’s a changed man Sugar, swear it!”

You believe him, really! If Eddie told you the sky was red you’d believe him too. Despite whatever bulletin board conspiracy your band mates have drawn up you aren’t fucking Eddie. He’s your best friend, frankly you’re still waiting for the day people can comprehend that a guy and a girl can be friends without secretly wanting to make out and elope in Vegas.

Steve Harrington however, was not a man you could be ‘just friends’ with.

The second he walks into the bar trailing behind a girl with mousy blonde hair and a chic vest you pause mid sip, beer instantly forgotten. No one is allowed to look that good in a Polo. Don’t even mention the hair-the hair! It’s a waste he isn’t in a glam rock band, blasphemous even.

He looks out of place in the bar. He shakes all the guy’s hands following it with a pat on the arm similar to how a Wall Street guy would greet his coworkers.

“Stevie, Buckley. This is the one and only Sugar!”

He introduces you in that tone he tends to use during a campaign. You lean across the table as Robin sits down to shake her hand.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Eddie never shuts up about you.”

“How could he?”

You tease as you scooch your chair to make space for Steve to drag one over to your table. He sits down, holding his hand out to shake yours “Nice to meet you I’m St-“

“Stevie right?”

You cut him off with a firm hand shake and a curl of your red lips. Similar to his cheeks as he nods in agreement.

This is just going to be so fun. You've heard rumors about how much of a playboy he was back in high school. However, considering that he spends most of his time babysitting kids and according to Eddie ‘striking out’ you have a feeling that isn’t the case anymore.

You can’t help but notice the way his eyes linger over the lipstick stain on your cup, or the way your leopard print pants stretch over your thighs.

“This your first show?”

He looks back at you, wiping his palms down his jeans. He looks all American. Like he came straight out of a Bruce Springsteen song.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Well, I’ll make sure it’s extra special for you tonight.”

“You’ve only known the guy two seconds why are you giving him special treatment Sugar, I thought I was your main man?”

Eddie says this as he kicks your leg underneath the table.

“When you look like that you get special treatment, I don’t make the rules.”

You take a sip of your beer, glancing at Steve over the glass.

“Alright Casanova finish your beer we gotta get up there soon.”

You raise one arm in surrender as you chug what’s left and go to stand up. Making sure to lightly drag your arm behind Steve’s chair as you start walking to the stage. You turn to Robin before leaving, “killer vest by the way.”

You know Eddie is just teasing. This is just who you are, and you really get a kick out of seeing how many buttons you can push. How pretty and pink you can make a guy. According to the flush that spread over Steve's face, pretty damn pink.

It's just fun. You get the feeling Steve tends to go more for the 'girl next door' type and you've never been one to get your hopes up. Hawkins hasn't necessarily been kind to people like you. Guy's were never really that into you in your early teens. When they were, it was because they assumed you were an easy lay. You can imagine their disappointment when your idea of a perfect first date wasn't hooking up in the back of their dad's cars or under the bleachers.

It's fine though. Guys are much more fun when you can flirt them up at the bar and never see them again. It keeps your schedule free for rehearsals anyways.

You find yourself lost in this thought as you set up on stage. Glancing over at the bar you see Steve and Robin bickering quietly. He holds a beer out of her reach as she yanks at his hair before snatching it out of his hands. You can't help but see a resemblance between them and you and Eddie.

As if he knows what you're thinking he comes up behind you, guitar in hand as poke's at your side.

"Ready to rock and roll?"

"You sound like a dad when you say that."

"I thought you liked that kind of thing?"

You shove him harshly but can't help the laugh that comes out of you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Steve swears this is heaven.

Yeah it’s hot in the bar, and it reeks of beer and sweat and he’s being jostled around like a punching bag but god it’s worth it when he sees you on stage.

Baby hairs stick to your forehead, sweaty and glistening. Your black top clings to your body and he feels like an asshole for staring at your legs in those pants. The real kicker is your hands. The way you pluck at the base effortlessly as if they’re gliding on air.

He flinches as the band finishes up the song and Robin hollers right beside him.

“They’re good! Not that I didn’t think they’d be good, I totally believed Eddie when he said they were but they’re like-actually good!”

Steve holds back a chuckle, Robin is a light weight but he’s glad she’s a happy drunk.

“Yeah, they’re killer.”

Eddie speaks up breathlessly from stage.

“Alright everyone, for our last song of the night let me draw your attention to our very own Sugar for a very special cover.”

He dramatically gestures over to you and bows down as you step up to your own mic, which you’ve been neglecting for most of the night.

The crowd hollers for a moment before cooling down. It’s hypnotic, the way you command a room just with your presence. As if you could make everyone buckle at their knees with just a breath.

“Step inside

Walk this way

You and me babe

Hey hey!”

The crowd roars at the familiar favorite. Steve’s never been one for rock music, but he can’t help but bob his head to the beat alongside Robin. He thinks he’d listen to every goddamn song ever created if it was coming out of your mouth.

You pull your hair back in your hands as you tap your leg rhythmically, seductively eying the crowd. Your bass hangs low by your waist and sways slightly. It’s obscene, everything is obscene when you look like that.

“I'm hot, sticky sweet

From my head to my feet, yeah”

It’s like you know what you’re doing. There’s a confidence that spills from you and he’s down like a dog. He feels like you could stomp his heart out with your black boots and he’d polish the blood off them with the shirt off his back afterwards.

Fuck he’s pathetic.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The feeling right after finishing a set is always the best. You're all giddy, high off the adrenaline and slightly cocky. You could perform in front of just three people and you would all still feel like hot shit.

"That was awesome!"

Robin breaks through the crowd with Steve trailing behind her, promptly apologizing to the men she's shoving aside. The way she walks through the larger and gruff looking men as if it doesn't phase her amuses you. From what you've heard about Robin through Eddie, you've grown to admire her from afar. While you've always been too shy to admit it, you've been dying to meet her. You love your guys but you often find yourself desperately yearning for someone who you could connect with on a deeper level. You've known Robin to be deeply feminist. You've read some of the Zine's she makes alongside Nancy Wheeler, fighting against the patriarchy and the typical conservative views in Hawkins. You're aching to collaborate with them on one.

Which is why you immediately agree to her request to buy you a beer.

As she drags you over to the bar, Steve stays back with the group. Shooting a longing glance at you as you walk away as if he had something he wanted to say to you.

"Harrington strikes out once again."

Steve's head whips towards Eddie.

He starts fumbling over his words immediately. He knows from past conversations that you and Eddie have only ever been just friends. He has also, much to his dismay at first, grown to care for Eddie and their friendship. He wouldn't want to cross a line in trying to get to know you in a more than friendly way.

"I'm not striking out-I'm not even in the game."

The guys all burst out in boyish laughter, making Steve roll his eyes.

"Dude. You were practically drooling the entire set."

Gareth says this before mimicking Steves' starstruck face he saw in the crowd.

"It was hot in there!"

"Oh yeah, I bet it was."

Jeff and Gareth leave to get beers of their own which leaves Eddie and Steve.

After a moment Steve speaks up.

"Look man, I'm not going to try anything I know you guys are close I don't want-"

Eddie cuts him off.

"Steve. You gotta know that doesn't bug me right? If you decide you want to actually get in the game I won't stop you."

He leans in close, and in his most theatrical voice whispers "but know this, it isn't a game for the weak."

He loudly slaps his hands on Steve's shoulders before hollering over his shoulder.

"Buckley! How about a game of pool?"

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Your head whips over to find Eddie ready to drag Robin away for a game of pool. You would be disappointed, but you've already made plans with Robin to hang out sometime this week, and Steve is already walking over to you.

"Hey stranger, can I buy you a drink?"

He chuckles softly as he sits on the stool that used to belong to Robin. Who is loudly arguing over the rules with Eddie behind him.

"I'm pretty sure its supposed to be the other way around."

"Say's who?"

You both look at each other then. For the first time tonight you're able to really take him in. He has the prettiest eyes you've ever seen. Light brown, the way the lights in the bar reflect in them makes it seem like there's specs of gold in them. More than anything though, they look kind. It stirs something up within you. A feeling you so often try to push down. Then he smiles at you and you have to look away before you let the feeling come up any further.

You wave the bartender down and order a beer for Steve. Who nods in thanks before facing his body towards you.

"You were pretty amazing up there."

"I'm glad you enjoyed the show."

"Is that why they call you Sugar?"

You furrow your brows at him, not exactly sure what he means.

"The song?"

You go slightly red, embarrassed that you didn't catch onto what he meant. You feel silly. Guy's don't usually make you feel this way. They don't make your mind fog up. You feel tense, like you're hyper aware of how you're sitting and breathing and wondering if he can tell how fast your heart is beating.

"Oh! Right the song!"

He laughs at your response finding it endearing. He sees a slight crack in the persona you've put up all night. He wants to break it open and get to know who you are when you aren't on stage. He wants to know what kind of person you are alone, when everyone has gone and you're unwinding for the night.

"No the song worked its way into the set list later on but Eddie started calling me Sugar because he thinks it's ironic."

"Why would it be ironic?"

You laugh at this before you catch the look on his face and realize he's being serious.

"Well...I've been known to be a bit...blunt I guess."

He nods in understanding. He thinks this is his shot. If he can prove to you now that he's a worthy competitor in whatever game Eddie was talking about he might have a chance.

He gets the sense that you won't just agree to going out with him. He knows his reputation, knows the kind of person he was before. He thinks about it for a moment and wonders if he should dust off his old tactics but, that just doesn't feel right. He figures he should just be honest. Even if it makes him seem like a total dork in front of you.

"I thought they called you Sugar 'cause you're sweet."

He mumbles this and hides behind his beer as he takes a sip. You still heard him though. His compliment is corny, it resembles that of a dad joke and if he didn't seem so earnest about it you would have rolled your eyes.

But he's blushing and his eyes keep bouncing to your face to see your reaction and you can't help but send him a sweet smile. Not a flirty one, or a teasing one. A genuine smile that means he said something right.

"You think I'm sweet?"

You're indulging yourself. You've been called hot before. Sexy, confident. These compliments are nice sure, but nothing compares to the feeling of someone complimenting the way you are.

"Yeah, I mean Eddie talks about you all the time. Even from what I saw tonight, you just...you seem like a really warm person."

He can't remember the last time he was so nervous. He's sure he sounds like an idiot.

One look at your face and he stops worrying about all of it. He wishes he could have met you sooner. He thinks he could have avoided becoming such an asshole had you been around to not make him feel like an idiot for being so soft.

"Well aren't you a sweetheart Stevie."

He lets out a relieved breath, it sounds like a laugh.

"I don't know about that."

"Don't be so humble, I doubt I'm the first girl to tell you that."

"I hope you're the first girl who means it"

You realize now exactly what Eddie meant when he said Steve was a changed man. You've trained yourself to see men as one thing. Someone who doesn’t listen, doesn’t care, and doesn't feel anything other than lust and pride. When Steve says this, you realize he isn't the same guy he used to be. He's someone, who like you, wants to be seen.

God do you see him.

"If Eddie talks about me as much as you say he does, you should know I never lie."

"I'll take your word for it."

He lifts his cup to yours. You clink them together before taking a sip. Behind him, Robin gives out a triumphant yell as she scores a point.

"Do you wanna go watch them play?"

You don't want to, but you ask anyway. There is something at the back of your head telling you to look for an out. To walk away before you're in too deep.

Steve doesn't even glance behind him as he places his drink down and makes himself comfortable.

"I doubt I'm missing much."

You smile at him once more.

Later, when you're all leaving the bar. Steve, who barely nursed his one beer walks Robin to his car and glances over at you as you load your equipment into the back of Eddie's van.

Robin waves hastily at you "See you soon!"

You laugh and wave back before hopping into the passenger seat.

When you're all settled in Eddie speaks up.

"Sugar and Stevie sitting in a tree..."

"Shut up."

As he drives you home, you can't help but think that you wouldn't mind k-i-s-s-i-n-g in a tree with the sweet boy.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────

a/n: this was so much fun to write! If anyone would want to read more about Sugar and Steve let me know, I would love to make this an on-going series if y'all are interested:)

(also! all of the images used here are from Pinterest!)

[cherry-smokes]

Winnebago

You and Steve are desperately pining over each other, all it takes is a near death experience and some eavesdropping to finally do something about it before it's too late. Steve Harrington x reader hurt/comfort Warnings: talks of blood, yearning and also this is my first blurb so proceed with caution.

Gruesome. Gnarly. Wrong. Just so wrong. Words flash through your mind, harsh and biting unlike your gentle hands as you tend to his wounds. It’s just not fair.

Steve, the most gentle man you know, shouldn’t have been torn to shreds by those things. You swear you could see the light flowing out of him along with his blood as you wrapped whatever shred of clothing it was that Nancy handed you around his waist.

You figure you should thank her for that. For her help. For granting you all the god given gift that is her mind. You swear you would if you could bear to look at her without feeling sick. It feels so ridiculous to be caught up with unrequited love in times like these. You've never felt more like a teenage girl in your life. When you aren't worried about keeping the gaggle of children you've essentially adopted at this point alive you're worried about Steve being dragged into what you can only consider the pits of hell. It's never ending. First it's the tunnels, then the Russians and now the fucking bats. He doesn't deserve that, he deserves the Winnebago.

The six kids, all probably with the same head of hair and freckles that mirror his. Warm soft eyes, that killer smile. You shouldn't have eavesdropped on his conversation with Nancy, you know that. As you cradled Max's head on your shoulder, ignoring the way her headphones dug into the bone there, you couldn't help but tune out Kate Bush and listen to what they said.

"Except for the six kids part- that sounds like...a total nightmare"

"If only I had some practice"

"I'm sure...it would be easier with some help."

Too caught up in trying to figure out if the sharp stinging pain you felt was coming from your stomach, chest or throat, you missed the way Steve glanced at you through the rear view mirror.

You miss the way he looks at you now. The RV is empty, everyone has retreated outside to prepare themselves for battle. Children all forced into a colosseum of horrors they should have never had to endure. For a moment, he doesn't think about that. He thinks about you. Your gentle hands. You've always been that way with him. He fears every day that he takes it for granted. He wasn't used to gentleness. Not from his father, not from his peers, not even from Nancy.

He looks at your hands, bloody and cracked. He thinks it's unfair. It's cruel that those hands that have only ever given out care and provided warmth have to be exposed to anything other than that. He thinks he would reach into the sun, melt his hands to the bone if it meant he could give you an ounce of its warmth.

"How is that, is it too tight?"

You gently lay your hands around the bandages you've wrapped around him as you ask the question, avoiding his gaze.

Steve shakes his head, soft strands of hair falling onto his face.

"No...that's good. It's a lot better than before, thank you"

He looks at your face as you start picking up the remnants of your care. Bloodied gauze pads you struggle to keep in your hands as they shake. He can't help but reach out for them.

"Hey, what is it-what's wrong?"

You finally look at him. His heart aches a terrible thing as he sees the glassy look in your eyes.

Your voice is soft, if he wasn't so close he probably wouldn't even hear you as you whisper.

"You scared me so bad."

You sound like a child when you say it. Unable to find more complex words to describe how you felt when all you could hear as you ran to him was screaming. When you saw him overwhelmed by those viscous, ravenous creatures.

Steve's hands move desperately to your face. Trying to wipe any ounce of distress away from it like he can't bear to see you look so sad a second longer.

"I know-I know I'm sorry. I'm okay, I'm here right?"

"I just-" Your words get caught in your throat. They come out thick with emotion and Steve's brows furrow together like his in pain. You take a deep breath, trying to ignore the way it makes your chest shake.

"I have this horrible feeling...that we aren't going to be as lucky this time"

"Don't- Don't say that."

Your hands reach up to cradle his own on your face. You try to burn the feeling of him into your memory. Just in case this is the last time you'll be able to feel them. Just in case you're about to ruin everything. You pull his hands away and hold them out in front of you, taking his face in. Bloody, grimy and bruised yet he looks just as beautiful as he always does.

"I heard what you said to Nancy earlier."

His heart sinks a little bit. He isn't sure why. He can't tell if he's embarrassed that you heard it, that you might think it's some stupid pipe dream you would never want any part of. Worse, he thinks about you wanting that. Wanting it with him, and something horrible happening that would tear that possibility away.

"Oh."

"I think if anyone deserves that Winnebago, the road trip...the family. I think it's you. Anyone would be lucky to get that with you."

There's that warmth again. Spreading across his chest and up to his cheeks as he flushes. He opens his mouth, he begs his brain to come up with anything to say but he can't. Not when the sun is setting behind you and he swears the way the light shines into the RV makes you look like an angel.

"I know...that you want that with someone. And I'm so sorry if this just ruins everything and you can't ever look at me the same after this but...I don't want to die-"

"I'm not going to let that happen-"

He doesn't just mean something happening to you. He wouldn't let anything ruin you two. Steve thinks he would wallow in pain and misery forever as long as he got to keep you. He wishes he had words to explain that to you, wishes he had been better in English so he could formulate poems and novels about how he feels about you.

"What if we can't stop it? I wouldn't be at peace if you didn't know. If something happens to me-and if there is a 'better place' out there...I hope I wake up in a Winnebago. On the shore somewhere sunny and warm. I hope you're there...and I hope you're surrounded by kids that look just like us."

He grabs desperately at your face. One of his hands reaching up to brush your hair out of your face.

"Why can't we have that in this life?"

You swear you can hear your heart pounding in your ears. You can feel the blood rushing through your veins and even so close to the possibility of death you've never felt more alive.

"Is that what you want?"

"Angel that's all I want"

You kiss his palms as he rests his forehead against yours. You pray to whatever force is out there that you have done enough good in this life to be granted a moment of peace in the sun when this is all over.