#steve harrington has daddy issues

[starman-jpg]

You Gotta Let It Out Soon

slight tw: verbal abuse and attempted assault. Overall, it's just Steve's dad being a terrible father.

Please be kind to yourself if you choose to read this.

Title from "Daddy Issues" by the Neighborhood (Seemed fitting)

Steve was late.

Dustin is going to give him so much shit.

He didn’t mean to take a nap, honest.

He had to lay down because he felt a headache coming on, and he really didn’t want to deal with it.

Were his eyes closed? Yes.

Did he feel himself nodding off? Well… yeah.

But that’s not the point! He didn’t mean to.

He rushes down the stairs, his keys in his mouth as he awkwardly hops on one foot getting on one shoe before doing the same with the other one. It wasn’t until he looked up that he found he was being watched.

He stands up straight, taking his keys and shoving them in his pocket, keeping a tight grip on them.

“Dad…”

“Steven.”

“W-what are — When did-”

“For God’s sake Steven, stop being an idiot and finish your sentence.” His dad was already done with him.

“What are you doing here?” That’s a safe question.

“It’s my house, Steven. Why wouldn’t I be here?”

Steve shrugs, “You haven’t been here for months. Haven’t seen you since February, it's November now. ”

His dad scoffs, rolling his eyes, “I’m a very-”

“Very busy man, yeah.” Steve finishes that same lame excuse his dad gives him every time, “You mentioned that once or twice.”

“Don’t talk back to me Steven.” His voice went stern, “You have the nerve to act out when the house isn’t even cleaned and the fridge is empty. How are you living Steve, like a goddamn barn animal?” His dad may have a point, the house could use some cleaning, and he definitely needed to go to the store, but honestly, he wasn’t expecting him to be home.

“My bad, I’ve been busy.”

“Do not make excuses Steven-”

“I’m not making excuses!” He talks over his dad, “I work 10-hour shifts and when I’m not working, I’m helping some of the kids I look after.”

“Like a babysitter?” The tone of his dad’s voice is condescending.

“Yeah, like a babysitter, sure.”

“You’re a grown man, Steven. You can’t even take care of yourself.”

“Well, I did though, didn’t I?” Steve crosses his arms, shrugging, “You and Mom weren’t around. Took good care of myself then.”

“Your Mother and I were around enough.”

Steve can’t help but laugh, “Seriously? You’re serious right now?”

“Stop laughing Steven! We are your parents. We raised you to be better.”

Now that caught his attention. “You raised me? Seriously?”

“Of course we did. We gave you a roof over your head and kept you fed-” His dad kept listing things, but Steve just heard white noise.

“You didn’t raise me.” Steve mutters, keeping his eyes down. His father stopped, clearly hearing him.

“Say that again?” He was clearly taunting Steve, and Steve fell for it.

“You didn’t raise me.”

“Steven Richard Harrington, do not talk to your father like that.” Steve cringes at his full name. Especially his middle name. A reminder he’ll always be connected to his father, even without his last name.

“I did though you left when-”

“I did not ‘leave’ Steven. I had work to do, and it was important.” “More important than your son?”

“You were old enough to take care of yourself.”

“I was NINE!” He screams, a tear falling down his cheek as he points his finger at his father, “You left me to fend for myself when I was nine!”  

“Oh boo-hoo, grow up Steven-”

“I have!” He screams again, finally letting out all his pent-up anger, “And you would have noticed if you were around. But you weren’t.”

He gets into his father’s face, “While you were off screwing every woman you laid eyes on and mom was drowning her sorrows at the hotel bar about her pathetic excuse of a husband, I was here. Growing up. I taught myself how to use the stove and how to buy groceries. I taught myself how to fix things around the house. I even taught myself how to drive. You did none of that.”

“I have paid for this life you are living. This house! That car! Those tutors, even though they were useless.” His dad runs a frustrated hand through his hair. It physically makes Steve ill. “God, I raised an insolent, unappreciative son.”

“You didn’t fucking raise me!” He yells, his throat already getting raw from the explosion of emotions.

His father stopped, staring daggers at Steve.

He senses it before it happens. He sees the anger on his father’s face and just knows. As his father’s hand flies up to slap him, he catches it. His nails digging into his father’s wrist, his knuckles turning white. The shock on his father’s face makes him smile.

He leans in close, taunting him, “You can’t fucking hurt me, I have fought worse things than you, and I have always won.”

Steve knows he has to look crazy, he can see it in his dad’s eyes. He’s scared of Steve. Good.

He shoves his father’s arm down to his side and walks by, heading up the stairs. He’s done and he means it. He grabs his duffle bag and shoves a bunch of his clothes and toiletries into it. He grabs his unused backpack and takes down all the pictures everyone hung up, carefully putting them in his bag. He grabs some other miscellaneous items that mean the world to him: like the rock Eddie gave him because it was pretty, the walkie Dustin gave him so he would always know everyone was safe, the little notes Robin would write on post-it notes and slap onto his wall. He took all of it.

With his backpack on and his duffle thrown over his shoulder he grabs his keys from his pocket and goes back downstairs. He sees that his father moved to the living room, so he tries to sneak out quietly.

Of course the Gods didn’t think he deserved a break.

“Where do you think you are going, Steven.”

Steve’s shoulders drop, and he turns to his dad.

“I’m leaving.”

“If you leave this house, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” He challenges. “No, seriously. What will you do?”

His dad looks him straight in the eyes, “I’ll sell this house, and you’ll be on the street. Your mother and I will never come back to Hawkins.”

“Good fucking riddance.”

Steve opens the door and walks out, he knows his dad is yelling at him. Probably calling him all sorts of names, but he was done.

He throws his bags into the passenger seat, gets in his Beemer and drives off. His shoulders relax as he watches the Harrington house get small in his rearview mirror.

---

Steve didn’t have a plan when he left. Just knew he had to leave.

He continued to drive aimlessly around Hawkins before pulling into a familiar trailer park. He parks next to the van and gets out, jumping the stairs and knocking, rather impatiently, at the door.

He hears Eddie mumbling to himself, most likely annoyed he had to get out of bed, before the door swings open.

“Stevie!” Eddie’s once annoyed face instantly lit up, but slowly it fell, “What happened?”

“Huh?” Steve can feel the lump in his throat, and he feels the tears on his cheeks. Shit, how long had he been crying. “Shit.” He furiously wipes away his tears.

Eddie ushers him inside and moves him to the couch. He envelops Steve in his arms, letting him rest his head on his chest, hearing the rhythmic beating of his heart.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” Eddie coos.

Steve cries again as he explains what went down with his dad. Eddie comforts him the whole time, letting Steve take his time. When he was done, Eddie was furious.

“He kicked you out!” He softly yells.

“Technically no, I left.”

“But he just allowed you! And he almost hit you!”

“But he didn’t. I just was… overreacting or something.” He shrugs it off, but he knows Eddie won’t.

“Stevie, look at me.” Steve does what he is told and was a little shocked as Eddie gently took his face in his hands. “No parent should ever, ever hit you or even attempt to hit you.”

Steve slowly nods, “Yeah, but-”

“No buts. Steve, you can’t keep sticking up for your dad. He’s an asshole. You know it. I know it. Most of fucking Hawkins knows it. Why do you still protect him?”

“He’s my dad, Eds.” He says like that's an explanation. And it is, in some ways, but not the way Eddie is looking for. “We had good times, before the bad. Before he left. And I know he’s capable of that good. He has to be.” He feels himself choking up again, “He was a good dad.”

Eddie pulls him into his chest, letting Steve cry it out.

Steve sometimes forgets that there was good within his dad. That he actually had good memories with him. But that was before the Harrington business picked up.

His dad would take him to play catch in the yard. And shoot hoops with him. As a family they would go on drives and on picnics. They’d watch movies and listen to music and dance around. When Steve had a nightmare his dad would come in and read him stories as he fell asleep. They would get up early and make breakfast for his mom in bed on Mother’s Day, softly laughing as they brought up waffles and coffee for her. There was a time his dad would go to his little league games and cheer him on as loud as possible.

But then his business picked up, and it was like all those good times disappeared.

“Stevie, I’m sorry. I know he’s your dad-”

“You’re right though,” He croaks, “He’s a terrible father now. He’s a completely different man now than he was then. It’s- it’s just… hard to let go.”

Eddie nods, running his fingers through Steve’s hair. “I know, baby. I know.”

They stay on the couch, Eddie comforting him until Wayne gets home. Eddie briefly explains what happened with Steve’s dad.

“You stay here as long as you need to, boy. You got that? This is your home now. And you're safe here.”

Steve nods, another round of tears falling down his face as Wayne hugs him tightly.

Steve slowly puts his stuff around the trailer, not too much though. Just hangs his clothes with Eddie’s and puts his toothbrush in the holder.

He finally feels like he’s in a home.

And when he and Eddie drive past the Harrington house and see a “For Sale” sign in front, it feels like weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

[lovemesomeeddiemunson]

The Proposal - Part 6

Summary: When Steve Harrington is threatened with deportation, he blackmails his long suffering assistant, Eddie Munson, into marrying him. Steddie! The Proposal Au, Part 6 of 7. 5571 Words

Series Warnings: Blackmail. Food mentions. Mentions of unhealthy relationship with food. Cursing. Self harm (by means of tattooing.) Homophobia. Death of a parent. Abandonment by parents. Shitty parents. Homophobic parents. Parents with entitlement. Classism. Eventual sexual situations (no actual smut!) Brief allusion to a panic attack.

Authors Note: BEFORE READING PART SIX! Please be advised that MOST of the series warnings were written with this chapter in mind. Some of the content herein may potentially be triggering for some readers, and I ask that you proceed with caution and read at your own risk. That being said, this is the final part in this series besides our epilogue. I hope it's everything you wanted it to be.

The rest of the afternoon is a blur - not that it’s difficult. Eddie knows how to follow orders by this point - stand where told, smile even if he doesn’t feel like it…And Johnathan is actually incredibly helpful. With useful tips that make this whole thing…breezy.

The only problem is Steve.

Steve, who had turned on the charm and is determined to kill Eddie with it. Flirting through the whole process - whispering in Eddie’s ear and genuinely making him laugh right when the camera clicks…At one point Steve even queues up Johnathan to snap an idea he’s come up with on his own - of him pulling Eddie’s hand up to his lips and leaving a gentleman’s kiss on his knuckles while Eddie just fucking melts.

He’s so fucked.

Utterly and completely fucked - even as they flit from location to location, switching outfits, and subtly adjusting Eddie’s hair as they go. 

And Steve is so fucking clever too, because with those things combined these photos could have been taken at any point. Not necessarily in a day.

It’s padding for their case - a nice little breadcrumb trail of evidence of a - if the Central Park carriage ride is to be believed - very romantic relationship.

Leaving Eddie just, wishing for the reality of it, despite himself.

They finish out the photo shoot at Steve’s once again, taking photos on Steve’s balcony under the setting sun and some twinkle lights. Once they’ve lost said light, officially, Johnathan dismisses himself. He tells them they’ve done great, that he’s off to edit, and he’ll send the finalized images to Steve by the beginning of next week. 

Eddie fidgets nervously as Steve sees the other man out, unsure what comes next.

Not expecting, of all things, the exaggerated groan Steve lets out when he returns to him, or his. “I’m sorry.” 

Eddie is taken aback, asking, “What are you apologizing for?”

“That was a lot. I know.” He explains. Eddie is baffled. Steve has never cared how much he adds to Eddie’s plate, until lately. 

Eddie isn’t sure what to make of it. He laughs it off. “Yeah, well. I’ve been thoroughly compensated for my time, so don’t worry about it.”

Steve almost frowns - like the reminder of their work relationship had bummed him out for all of two seconds before his face smoothed over. “Of course. Still. Let me offer you a small bonus - dinner. Anything you want.” 

Eddie is pleased at the offer, the thoughtfulness of it but also, how dinner sounds, just, amazing right now. 

So, Steve orders them dinner. Eddie checks in with him, and then at insistence from Steve that he wear something more comfortable than the formal wear they had posed in lastly, he puts on his sweatpants and a band shirt, getting cozy on the couch. 

Steve joins him, and Eddie is tense for all of two seconds until he clicks the tv on, asking Eddie what they should watch.

They spend the rest of the time settling on something, Steve eventually getting the door when the delivery arrives. As he retrieves their order, Eddie stands up, ready to head to the formal dining room, when Steve waves him off.

“Stay. I don’t have a tv out there.” He reasons.

Eddie is baffled. “Steve.” He protests, thinking of crumbs and grease and sauce, “I’m a messy eater.”

Steve only rolls his eyes. “I have maids. Plural. Now sit.” 

Eddie knew that. He sits. It’s so weird.

Weirder still to watch Steve pop open the box of pizza on that same expensive coffee table, moaning in a way that will haunt Eddie’s dreams at the way the cheese pulls when he takes it from the box and puts it on a plate, offering Eddie the first slice.

They eat, the TV plays, and Eddie decides to analyze it all at a later time, even relaxes a bit.

“I was thinking…about what you said about giving me a key?” Steve tells him after a while, his eyes locked on the food below him.

Eddie swallows his bite before asking. “Yeah?”

Steve fidgets. “I…What I mean is, I took it to mean that you plan to keep your apartment?”

Oh. “I…I wasn’t thinking.” Eddie explains.

“We should discuss it.” Steve looks down. “I assumed you would live here…I’m hoping you’ll be amenable to it. I uh, I have a guest room that should suffice…But then there’s the matter of your apartment. If you were looking to get it back after the divorce, I would be willing to rent it out under a surname, shell corporation, something - I don’t know legal shit but like - whatever you need. I’d pay to hold it until you can take it back, if that’s something you wanted.”

Eddie is floored. “I’m not that attached to it, honestly. I uh…what I mean is, I can look for a new place. After. I’d be okay with that. I know you don’t believe in my music. But I do…So, if there’s shows to be played, records flying off the shelves…hopefully…I’ll have some money come in, and I can get something else-”

“You’ll have that option, Eddie. But even if you didn’t, I wouldn’t put you out on the street. We’ll work something out.” He clears his throat, Eddie can’t help but agree.

“Okay. So…cool. So…we’ll live here.” He says. In this expensive, massive, apartment, with a view. Geez. 

Steve nods. “…Do you know when you want to formally move in?”

He’s baffled. “I figured you’d want to run out the clock, I know you like your space.”

Steve fidgets. “I actually don’t mind. Uh not just the living together part but…any of this. You’re really easy to be around.” 

Eddie clears his throat, wipes his crumbs from his shirt and cringes. Changing the subject. 

“Oh!” He perks up just a bit. “So, if that’s settled, we should discuss when my last day working for you will be.” He suggests.

Steve groans, all but sagging into the couch like he’s suddenly overcome with melancholy. Insists, “I don’t want to talk about that.”

Eddie, thinking it’s for the wrong reasons, keeps his tone gentle. “Stevie, we discussed this. You can have me as an assistant, or you can have me as a husband, but you can’t have both.” 

Steve just huffs. “Do you know how hard it was to find someone competent?” 

“I will vet the next guy myself, and personally call all of his references.” He’s chuckling, “You won’t be left hanging. I’ll make sure he knows how you like things.”

“It’s more than that.” Steve sighs. “You were the best. You anticipated my needs.” 

Eddie blinks - surprised. Steve chews his lower lip. If he’s successfully disarmed by this, then it might be advantageous for Steve to offer his whole truth. A necessity, if he wants to keep Eddie. And god, he wants to keep him. Never wants to let him go.

Confesses, “Solo tu mi capisci.” Wistfully, even if Eddie can’t understand him fully. “It’s why I lied about your demo…I…I knew if I produced it, that I would lose you as an assistant. That was a dick move. And I’m sorry.”

Eddie doesn’t react how he expects him to. He sounds exasperated. “Dude.” He gasps. “You say sorry for everything now, do you realize that? Sorry for this and sorry for that just…stop. It’s not needed. Okay? I get it. I’ve always gotten it. I wouldn’t have kept working for you if I thought you were fully evil.”

Steve doesn’t mean to, but he hopes. It’s as close a compliment as he could deal with, ironically enough. “You mean that?”

Eddie laughs. “Of course. So…are we good? Nod if we’re good.”

Steve nods. Eddie says, “Awesome.”

Steve chooses to press his luck even further. “Would you…maybe want to stay? Feel free to say no but, the guest room is made up and I…I thought too that uh, we could get to know each other more?”

Eddie makes a face. “I don’t know, I don’t think I have anything to wear.” His tone is deadly serious.

The two of them share a look, before bursting into giggles.

“Oh wow. He really did a great job, didn’t he?” Eddie murmurs. 

He’s at Steve’s apartment, as he had been every night since the first time Steve had asked him to stay. 

His things had followed him here - little by little, slowly taking over the guest room as he transitioned from living in his own apartment to living here full time.

It wasn’t as difficult of an adjustment as he might have expected…Steve had been downright accommodating and the apartment was so nice. 

He’d known that already of course, but on a recent work night he’d confirmed it.

Steve had dismissed him early - saying for a room full of their coworkers to hear that he would be home to him in an hour or two, and Eddie had used that time to go into rooms he’d never been in, telling himself that it was fine.

And what the whole place lacked in personality, it made up for in a wine fridge, a million windows, and a really great bathtub.

Fast forward to now, Eddie is peering over Steve’s shoulder while he sits with his laptop displayed in front of them, both of them looking over the edited images that Johnathan had sent Steve.

“He really did.” Steve agreed. Pointing to his favorite. A soft yellow sweater and floral shirt image, with his hair just so, Eddie’s tattoos prominent.

“I like that one I think, for the announcement? What do you think?” He smiles at Eddie. He’s been doing it more and more lately.

Eddie grins back. “A fine choice.”

Steve goes to say something else - but before he can, the pair of them are interrupted by a knock on the door, the two men sharing a look between each other.

“Did you…order something?” Eddie asks. But Steve looks equally confused.

“No.” He stands, crossing the room to answer the door. Eddie cranes his head to see who it is - wondering if he had his days mixed up, and Robin was supposed to be meeting them - but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

When Steve answers the door, there’s a middle aged man there in a light colored suit, a scowl on his face that Eddie would have known anywhere, because he had seen it, indirectly, every day. Would have known it even if Steve didn’t choke out, “Dad?”

“Steve.” His father - Richard Harrington - stands stoically, ominously inclining his head. “Aren’t you going to let me in?” 

He looks over at Eddie then, announcing louder because he appeared to be part of this now too, “I want to talk to the both of you.” 

Steve shakes his head, voice thready and his face pale, “Listen, whatever this is, whatever you came here for-”

His father pushes past Steve and into the apartment, speaking over him. “Your mom will never hear about any of this,” He says, looking over the whole place in disdain. 

Picking imaginary lint up off the back of the couch, Richard explains. “Jim Hopper called me. He told me all about your sham wedding.” He scoffs, his face all twisted up in rage. 

“You flew across the Atlantic for this?” Steve glares at him. 

Richard just rolls his eyes, and Eddie is shaken at how eerily similar the sight is. Only, unlike Steve - pretty, bitchy, Steve, this scorn was something ugly. “We live in Manhattan now, Steven.” He chides him.

Steve throws his hands up in exasperation. “Well you never sent a Christmas card!”

His father ignores that. “Steve…When it comes out that this is a fake relationship, and it will, you will not be able to enter back into this country.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve says hysterically. “I love Eddie.” And Eddie’s heart still swoops to hear it, even though he knows it’s not true. 

“You didn’t convince the immigration officer, and you won’t convince me. It’s all just too convenient, Steve. Ignoring the unnaturalness of it all, you think I don’t know a means to an end when I see one?”

“You’re wrong. And you need to leave.” He grits out.

Richard sighs. “Just let me help you, son. There’s no need to risk your whole future on this, on some nobody. Did you even verify his background? He comes from thieves and scum in some no-name town in Indiana. His most recent legal residence is in a trailer park, for fucks sake! He’s nothing.” 

Eddie tries not to show how affected he is by that, but Steve doesn’t.

“Shut up!” He shouts. “You don’t know him. You don’t know me. You don’t - you couldn’t even fathom what it’s like, to love someone based on who they are inside, not what they come from or what they have or even - yes dad - what they have going on downstairs!” He laughs.

“Don’t be crass.” Richard snaps back. Shaking his head in disappointment in a way that Steve was so familiar with. “I know it’s difficult for you, but please, try to see sense. If you allow this nonsense to continue, everything that your mother and I worked to give you, will have been for nothing.”

Steve’s only more enraged at that, stammering before managing to spit out. “You have given me nothing. You left me with nothing. Everything that I have, I earned. Without you.”

His father sneers even more then. “The only reason you knew how to walk in the right way, and dress the right way, and talk in the right way - is because of us. You’re not a self-made man Steve. You are what we made you. You owe your entire existence to us. Something you seem to need reminding of. And yet, as ungrateful as you are, still, I come all the way here on your behalf, to negotiate a deal-”

Eddie isn’t sure what they say from that point. It’s all in Italian. The argument dissolves into words that fly too fast and brutal for Eddie to ever hope to comprehend. 

Finally, Steve gets him out of the door, just as he’d been threatening to do from the moment that Richard had gone after Eddie, all while his father snaps, “Don’t be stupid, Steve.” His forehead scrunching in frustration. 

Steve just scoffs at that, and at his fathers resigned head shake, his accusatory “Inutile.” Steve slams the door in his face.

The sound echoes in the large apartment, Steve’s hands trembling once it’s all finished.

“Jeez.” Eddie mutters, lingering nearby, as Steve’s chest is heaving still. He whirls at Eddie - and then opens his mouth to apologize.

“Don’t you dare.” Eddie glares playfully at Steve.

Steve barks out a startled laugh. “Fuck, I -” he choked on the confession that wants to come out. Strangles it in his throat. “Thanks.” He says finally, lamely. Then he groans, rubs his eyes.

“No, thank you.” Eddie replies with a little chuckle. “Not every fake fiancé would so valiantly defend my honor.” He clutched his hand to his heart. “It was very sexy of you.”

He’s only half joking. But it works to make Steve laugh, still a little breathless.

“I wish you hadn’t seen that, are…are you still sure about this?” Steve asks, his voice rough from all the screaming. Worried too, that his father would have shaken Eddie’s confidence in the plan, Eddie thinks.

He tries to give Steve a reassuring look, to show him that’s not the case. “I’m still sure.”

Steve doesn’t feel much better. “I suppose that’s…good.”

Eddie frowns, hates the way Steve is still shaken and…so hurt. It isn’t fair. Eddie moves closer, promising, “He’s wrong, you know. You don’t owe him anything.”

Steve’s smile is worn, and Eddie closes the rest of the gap. He comes careening into his space, expression softening as their foreheads knock together gently. Both of them leave them. 

“I know you don’t like to hear praise from me that you haven’t asked for - but you’re going to right now.” Eddie explains, quickly tacking on. “So suck it up, Buttercup.”

“No.” Steve shakes his head, not at the declaration, but at the nickname.

Eddie huffs. “Not Buttercup? Damn okay…You’re my angel…dust. Wait, no, that's a drug.”

“Say what you were gonna say or I’m walking away.” Steve jokes. Eddie grins back. 

“Dick, he thinks you owe him. You don’t. Everything you have, from where I’m standing, looks to have been accomplished in spite of that asshat. Not thanks to him. That was certainly not a man who had a hand in bringing up someone as awesome as you - as smart, as funny, as kind-” Eddie declares.

Steve gasps, “Kind?” Like he can’t believe it.

“Oh you’re a bitch, don’t get me wrong.” Eddie laughs, voice admiral. “You’re not nice, per say…but you are kind. You act in favor of those you care about. I’ve seen it. Not just tonight, but in a million small ways before now.” 

Steve gapes at him, swallows past the lump in his throat. “Eddie…” he starts. Aches to kiss him. Can’t. “No one has ever…” he trails off in a laugh, muttering. “Non ti merito.”

Eddie looks at him curiously. Steve has said too much. Unable or unwilling to elaborate without putting the whole thing they have in jeopardy, Steve takes a half a step back, breaking their contact.

Clears his throat. “Do you want to look at some more photos? I suddenly really want to get this announcement out. I might put it in the newspaper.”

“And have it handed out at your dad’s country club.” Eddie agreed.

Steve barks out a laugh - “How did you know he goes to a - you know what, never mind, I answered my own question.”

The night before their scheduled interview is spent much the same as every other night since the photo shoot.

Eddie and Steve, Steve and Eddie, existing in their home.

Steve’s got Eddie practically splayed out in his lap, and is touching up the black polish on Eddie’s nails, a surprisingly steady hand for it.

Eddie is trying not to giggle and kick his feet. And failing, only to settle himself with one stern look from Steve. 

When they’ve almost finished, Steve gets a call on his cell that had sat on the coffee table. “Oh hang on, I gotta take this.” Steve tells him. Eddie nods, thinking it’s an important business call until he hears Steve cheerfully say,  “Hey Wayne.” 

Phone tucked up to his ear, he resumes painting Eddie’s nails while chattering amicably with Eddie’s uncle - in a way that Eddie quickly deduces, is not for the first time.

Eddie squeaks in betrayal. Steve levels another look at him. He keeps still.

The two chat while Steve finishes up, before Steve caps the polish and gives Eddie’s shoulder a little squeeze, releasing him to sit up, the fidgety man peering down at the flutter of his fingers.

A few minutes later, Steve gets off the call, telling him, “Wayne says hi.”

“I should be telling you that, Steve. Since when are you two so close, hmm?” He presses, batting his eyes at the other man. Not really bothered, Steve’s sure.

“Aw, don’t be like that. He called me the other day, just checking in. I told him about the deal we were working on - he wanted to follow up, see how it went.” Steve grinned.

“He’s adopted you.” Eddie clarified. “You’re his son now.” Eddie leaps agilely to his feet then. Meandering over to the kitchen with a hum. “Gosh, he’s going to be devastated by the divorce. Might try and keep you in the settlement once we’ve separated.” He laughs lightly, only joking, thinking nothing of it.

But his comments roll around in Steve’s mind long after they’ve passed. 

Steve tries not to let them get to him - and maybe they shouldn’t affect him to such a degree, but Eddie has held strong to the agreed upon plan all this time.

Even with Steve attempting to ‘woo him’ as Robin put it, Eddie was never affected. He stayed the course.

And Steve…was feeling less and less confident about keeping him.

But more than that.

He’s started to get cold feet about this whole thing. The more he sees of Eddie - the more the other man relaxes around him, the less confident Steve is that he can go through with it.

It comes to a head at the forefront of their interview, with both men sitting in front of Hopper, side by side. 

Steve thinks to the woman that had gotten arrested their first time here - how terrified she had been. Imagining the two of them getting caught and Eddie going through that…

Or the inverse.

Say they succeeded here. Say they passed with flying colors - his visa is approved and Eddie bound to him in all ways but the one that matters.

He imagines the first few days and months after they are married. Eddie would continue to be a good assistant, and a doting husband, until the heat is off and then…he would pull away.

He would leave his job, start his music career, his real life, they would eventually divorce, break Wayne’s heart, and Steve…

Steve would be heartbroken too. In love with a man who is too good for him. 

And too good for what he was asking. Too good to risk when even the best outcome at this point, would have stolen years of his life for Steve’s sake.

Steve who suddenly can’t breathe when he imagines it.

In front of him, oblivious, Hopper is explaining to them what they are agreeing to undergo today - how the process will work, what kind of scrutiny they will be under. Reminding them once again of the consequences should they fail.

He hears none of it. Eddie is at this side, more assured of the plan now, nodding along in the right places. And Steve…

Steve is staring at him. Like it’s his first time seeing his face, or maybe his last. Committing it to memory, because he has an unshakeable feeling that there won’t be a chance to again.

He’s so fucking beautiful.

“Did you have a question, Steve?” Jim Hopper asks him then, looking pointedly at him.

Steve swallows. “Uh, no…” he supplies. Confusion has started to take over Eddie’s face.

“Your hand is up.” Jim informs him. Oh. So it is. 

“Oh it’s…it's not a question, but I do have something I have to say.” He supplies.

“Steve.” Eddie says sternly.

He can’t bring it in himself to meet the other man’s eye. Lowers his hand, his gaze, and murmurs, “It’s okay, Eddie. You’re off the hook.” 

Then he glances up to Hopper, tells him. “I have a confession to make…about the wedding.” 

Jim raises an eyebrow, and Steve charges forward in the same span, “I forced Eddie to marry me. He…he has all these big dreams. And I knew that if I threatened to destroy them, he would do just about anything…So I blackmailed him, to come here to lie to you. And I thought it would be easy to watch him do it. But it wasn’t and I can’t ruin his life…” he clears his throat.

“It was my fault.” Steve finishes.

“Steve,” Eddie protests, his voice small.

He looks at him now, his eyes glassy. “I’m sorry but, this was a business deal and you held your end…so I will honor my part of it.” He swears. “I will make sure that you get your record deal…you’re a really talented musician, Eddie. You deserve it.”

It sounds like a goodbye. 

Eddie opens and closes his mouth, but Steve has already turned his face to level a stare at Hopper, insisting, “You can’t penalize him. He was coerced…under duress…I-I don’t know legal shit, but, it wasn’t his fault.”

Jim chuckles in a humorless way. “Technically no crime was committed as of yet, so I think we can let his involvement in this slide.”

Steve nods. Eddie is still reeling, floundering for what to say as Steve presses further, “So, what now?”

“Well now that you’re leaving voluntarily, it all becomes very civilized. You have 24 hours to head back to Italy. I suggest you get a move on. I’ll be in touch.” Jim dismisses him.

With understanding Steve stands, and he flees. Hopper lets him leave, kicking his feet up on the desk. Smug. 

Eddie had just had the rug pulled from under him, and he’s smirking, tone mournful. “I always get my man.” He sighs, shaking his head. “Pity.” Looking Eddie over, he suggests. “You’re free to go, kid. Consider yourself lucky.”

Lucky. 

Eddie stands, walking out of the office before breaking into a run. He ends up on the busy sidewalk where not too long ago, Steve had gotten down on his knees to propose. 

He’s nowhere to be found.

Eddie stands out there until it starts to rain. Only the wet drops on his face make him move - shielding himself from the storm as he pulls out his phone, looking to order a car on his app - his app that has fucking Steve’s place listed as his most frequent address now.

He breaks. Dials Wayne immediately instead of ordering his car. Blurts out, “The wedding is off.” As soon as Wayne answers.

Wayne waits a beat. Eddie breathes. Finally, his uncle asks. “…Are you okay?”

So Eddie tells him. All of it.

“So, uh, am I okay? No. Uh…I just feel…” He starts to shake with barely contained laughter. “You know what the problem is? It’s that this man is a gigantic pain in my ass. I mean, first he makes my life hell, for years. Years! Years I worked for this terrorist, and he doesn’t have the decency, the humanity, to say a single nice thing to me. Then he goes and he - he - unleashes every fucking kindness you can imagine, Uncle Wayne. He’s thoughtful, considerate, and fucking charming, okay? Only to take it all away again in one final, screw you Eddie. And I mean we had a deal right?!? We had a deal!” 

He’s fully shouting now, breathing heavily. “We had a deal. And he pulls this…this crap.” Eddie trails off. Out of steam. Wayne clears his throat on the other end. 

Eddie lets out a puff of air. “I’m sorry he just, he…he makes me a little crazy.” He explains.

“Yeah son, I can see that.” Wayne sounds amused. And then, gently, prompts. “So….you’re just gonna let him go?” 

After having caught his breath, because - running - ugh - Eddie bangs insistently on the door to Steve’s apartment. 

There’s a long pause. He bangs again. 

A few moments later the door swings open, Steve there in what looks to be a very well worn gray shirt and jeans. Hair perfect as ever.

Mouth agape, he looks at Eddie - soaked from the storm - like he’s the last person he expected to see at his door.

Behind him, Eddie clocks the moving boxes stacked up all around the living room, labeled with sharpie.

He fumes at the sight.

Cell phone held to his ear still, Steve softly closes his mouth before he says, “Rob, I gotta go. I’ll call you back.” Then hangs up the phone. Shoves it deep into his pocket.

“What are you doing here?” He asks. None of the usual bite he usually puts in his tone.

“I needed to see you.” Eddie answers. Gestures to the boxes. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m going back to Italy.” He answers. Like it’s simple. Looking stressed, properly stressed for the first time Eddie can recall.

“Steve, what the fuck?” He stammers, short on what else he can say at this point.

Steve misunderstands. “I already made the calls about your record deal Eddie, there’s no stopping it now. The company bought your demo - they’ll get together with you about-” 

“I don’t give a fuck about the stupid record deal, Steve!” Eddie gasps. “I care about you! What are you doing? Why are you doing this?”

Steve winces, stammering though his explanation as he reasons, “It’s like I told Hopper, Ed. I can’t watch you ruin your life for me. So I’m going home.” 

“Home? That’s not your home, Steve. Your home is here. Where your job, where your best friend, where-” Where I am. He wants to say. Shakes his head in disbelief. “Steve, please.”

Steve swallows. “It’s just a job, Eddie. And Robin…she understands.”

“I don’t.” Eddie argues. “You’re running away. And you’re - you’re leaving me. What happened to - to I’m yours.” He reminds him of what he said in his office when he'd first hatched this scheme.

Steve looks broken at his question. “You were never mine Eddie. Despite that - Sei tutto ciò che non ho mai osato permettermi di volere - I’m sorry that I tried to claim you that way. I had no right. I can - I can see that now. It was never your burden to bear. Involving you was a mistake.”

Eddie flinches. “Are - are you really that aghast at being married to me?”

“The opposite.” Steve whispers.

“The opposite?” Eddie is incredulous.

“I…” Steve stutters.

Eddie’s angry again. His emotions knocking him from place to place at a breakneck pace. He’s done with the games, the manipulation, the carefully constructed answers. Wanting more. “Tell me the truth. You owe me that much.” He insists.

“Eddie.” Steve sighs, sounding like the older of the two of them. “What I asked of you was horrible. The blackmail was inexcusable and...You didn’t deserve it. And you didn’t deserve to be shackled to me, wrapped up in my lies and my bullshit. You’re so much better than any of it. You deserve so much…more.”

Eddie gapes at him. He continues. “And for the first time in a long time, thanks to you, I realize that I deserve more too. I deserve something that isn’t founded on deceit and pretending. I…I’m ready now, I think, to try and become a person who's worthy of it. And I have you to thank for it…because falling in love with you, it made me want to be a better person. Something I hadn’t felt in a really long time.” Steve smiles, and offers Eddie the door. “I’ll always appreciate you for that. Even if my heart aches to let you go.”

Eddie doesn’t hear the rest, if there’s more. All he’s heard is that Steve - Steve Harrington, his boss and his headache and his nightmare - and, most recently, his best friend…He loves him.

Steve loves him. 

And like hell is he letting him get on a plane after that.

Steve tries to show him out, gently, but Eddie bristles against his touch, bursting at the seams to protest. “Wait! Wait! Just, wait…Steve, what if it wasn’t pretend. What if…I feel the same?” He implores.

Steve’s hopeful smile falls. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” He swears, choked up.

Steve shakes his head rapidly, voice low as he does that adorable thing he does when he doesn’t want to cry. “Trust me. You - You don’t really want to be with me.” 

“Steve.” Eddie protests.

He swallows. “See, the thing is, there is a reason why I’ve been alone since Nancy. I’m not good Eddie. I’m ruinous and full of baggage, wrapped up in my own need to be self-serving. And maybe someday that’ll change, but I’ll be in Italy by then…So…It would be easier if we forgot everything that happened, and I just left.” 

Eddie pulls Steve in, doesn’t let him go even as he won’t hear what he’s saying. “You’re right. That would be ‘easier.’”

“Eddie…” he argues.

“Steve.” He says again, more firm. “Listen to me carefully. I’m in love with you. So I’m going to need you to stop berating yourself and just marry me. Because I want to be with you and I can’t do that if you’re expelled from the country. We can figure everything else out later just, marry me, Steve. For real. And I will prove it. I will. I will spend every spare minute proving it. Proving that the way I feel is real.”

Steve shakes his head.

Eddie presses closer. “Steve. Pretty please, with cherries on top, marry me. I’ll get on my knees, even.”

Another head shake. “You had better not.”

“Later then.” Eddie says fervently. “Just…will you?”

Steve thinks. Eddie waits, until finally he whispers. “Eddie…I’m scared.” 

“Me too! Terrified. Let’s be terrified together.” He laughs. And Steve stares at him for a few more seconds. Quiet. Contemplative.

“Stevie.” Eddie says fervently then, brown eyes glimmering with hope. “Nod if we’re good?”

Steve smiles, and he nods.

The tension in Eddie fades - and he kisses him. Really kisses him.

“So, let me see if I’ve got this right.” Hopper sighs, glaring sharply at the two of them, “You two are engaged again.” 

“Yes.” The two men answer in tandem.

Hopper raises an eyebrow, “For real?”

“Yes.” Steve smiles as Eddie says “Yeah.” Both of them nodding along.

“You’re sure you wanna go through this - because one wrong answer and I’m gonna Take. You. Down.” He threatens.

Steve and Eddie look at each other briefly before looking back at Hopper. 

“Okay.” They both simultaneously answer, a little timid but still sure. 

Hopper smirks, the challenge long past accepted as he says enthusiastically. “Let’s do it.”

Series Masterlist Next Part: Part 7, Epilogue Previous Part: Part 5

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Someone asked for the whole essay, here it is. . .

Jonathan looks at Steve and thinks of his father, who used to break his things because he could. That's why he doesn't understand that Steve had a perfectly valid reason for doing it. His father never had a reason. He just did it. All Jonathan sees is a picture and what the picture is telling him. He doesn't understand that the picture crossed a line with Steve and Nancy, that it made them uncomfortable, that to them, it makes him a creep. There are some things that people just can't understand, especially when all they've looked through is a narrow lense. The fact that Nancy looked uncomfortable was all that Steve needed to know, but it also made Steve uncomfortable too, and he had every right to feel angry. All Jonathan could see was his father, and once he let's go of the fact that Steve Harrington is NOT his father, he'll realize that Steve is a good man. His intention wasn't to be a bully like Jonathan's father. (Plus, once Jonathan realizes that Steve’s home life isn't all that different and that he's not all that different from Jonathan, it'll be easier to get to know him.) When Steve said the things that he did, all Jonathan could see was the way his father spoke to him and Will, the way his father spoke to his mother, and when Steve pushed him all he could see was all the times Lonnie pushed him around. So, he wasn't really punching Steve in that alleyway. It was his father. Steve going to his house to actually apologize is something his father has done, but Jonathan lives in denial. He can't comprehend that someone like Steve is actually a good man. Maybe they're no longer negative, but the daddy issues he's projected onto Steve are definitely still there. I also think when he was yelling at Nancy, he was yelling at himself, too.

[no-context-nonsense]

It’s Halloween Week here, which is basically our most important holiday, so to celebrate we’re posting WAY late and crying about bats. And Jesus. And each other.

[catharusustulatus]

Imagine Steve’s mom does run the dog salon in town, she inherited it from Steve’s grandma in a Petco type deal, and she’s great at it, ties ribbons around the dog’s collars when they’re done, has a knack for flair.

His dad is always away at some “conference” doing insurance shit or back room deals, Steve doesn’t really know. But he and his mom both know what his dad is doing after the conferences are over, and it’s driving them both crazy. Driving Steve’s mom into the ground, knowing her husband is never home and when he is he’s getting ready to leave. Steve and his mom look alike, hazel eyes and coifed auburn hair and covered in freckles and moles. And they know Steve’s dad can’t stand it. They know beauty isn’t enough.

His mom is always half drunk on wine, sharing gossip with whoever comes in on her shifts and Steve ends up finding her at the bar down the street after work, and has to tuck her into bed before she passes out god knows where. And he sleeps downstairs or at Robin’s house, because his house is just the hole of his missing father and the shadow his mom is becoming, beautiful lipstick and red nails and making him scrambled eggs but also popping pills and never eating the eggs herself. Her hair is always perfect. Her makeup is always perfect. She goes to Church, grooms Father’s terriers for free.

Just like the hair and the freckles, Steve inherits the gossip, but it’s different hearing about his mother from people returning VHS tapes. “Saw her at the grocery store, she seemed sad. Your dad home yet?” Some guy asks while sliding Top Gun across the counter. It’s an open secret, at this point. All Steve can muster up is “Uh yeah, um. He should be back this weekend,” before he has to cry in the stock room.

[6-paris-6]

Okay but like real question. Do you think Steve knows how quickly Nancy moved on? Like we know he knows it was quick but wasn’t it like the next day? And she was already emotionally cheating on him. I’d like to think that Robin and Eddie somehow find out because of course they do and then make random comments to see if Steve knows and the second they find out he doesn’t they do everything to protect him from it but like because Steve doesn’t deserve that and then when he does find out and realises that Nancy really never loved him and he has actual proof in front of him he starts crying and Robin freaks out and Eddie is trying to distract him but like mid sob Steve just says “thank you” because all the weirdness over the last few months makes sense now and he realises that he didn’t need the validation of his ex girlfriend to love him when they were dating because she cares about him now but most importantly the two age appropriate most important people in his life love him and who needs anything else when you have a best friend that’s Robin Buckley and a new boyfriend named Eddie Munson (but like a few days later because it makes him realise Eddie actually likes him back and then that get together and it’s cute)

[devondespresso]

Because I love being tagged and I love memes you're getting an ask for each one. First is "Get yo fucking dog, bitch (It don’t bite) (YES IT DO)"

FDJKSHFJALDJKSLAFJDKLJF THANK YOU LOVE!!! first one was more of an editing thing than I thought, so here's a snippet from the area that was changed the most where Dustin and Steve are chatting as they cut all that goddamn meat they led D'art to the junkyard with (kinda long and [Character name] added to give enough context) (From this wip challenge post)

"That sounds so adult-ish. Like out of anything, cooking is your hobby." [Dustin] teased.

"Oh yeah, among other fun pass-times like paying off mortgages and hosting business meetings." he bitched back.

"Please tell me you don't enjoy business meetings."

"Hell no, if you ever see me host a business meeting you can shoot me." he said, scraping off his board.

"Okay good." Dustin laughed, dumping his pieces into his bucket.

"But y'know who does like business meetings?"

"Who?"

"My dad."

"Really?" he asked, genuinely, glancing over.

"Yes." he said with exaggerated exasperation, "He likes to pretend he has hobbies for his work friends but it's the only thing he ever actually does."

Dustin smiled, then caught himself, looking over towards the living room.

"Oh they're not home, it's just us." he assured and Dustin turned back.

"Where are they?"

"Guess."

"...at a business meeting?"

"Bingo."

"Damn. Both of them?"

"Yup. My mom just follows but he actually wants to go. Wouldn’t know a hobby if it hit him in his face." he joked, hopefully keeping it casual, and scooted some bags closer, "But what about you, you play that fantasy game with Mike, right?”

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

mint chocolate rewards [s.h.] 18+

an: hiii i kept getting stuck with this one but am pretty happy with how it turned out!! as much as i love pathetic steve i also looooove cocky steve. hope you enjoy!! feel free to send requests/suggestions or just chat with me :) -m

summary: you’re tutoring steve (there’s not a lot of learning going on) and he’s a smug asshole sometimes. (ft. ice cream, trains, and karaoke)

modern!steve x fem!reader 

warnings: use of y/n, cursing, angst (steve is a little bit of a an asshole), kissing, a tiny bit of phone teasing, dirty talk, fingering, edging, p in v, smidge of daddy kink (used like once or twice and it’s steve referring to himself)  18+ MDNI!!!!!!

wc: 19.3k (oh im a yapper)

masterlist here!!

College has been a fresh start for you, moving away from your small, stuffy town and basking in the change of scenery and people that a new city brought you. 

Boston was busy most of the time, a Friday or Saturday night in downtown made the city feel alive, electrified—but unlike New York, this city did sleep. Once the hustle and bustle of cars and trains stopped, the city shutdown for the night and the streets were quiet and still. Well in some places. 

It was your third year at Boston University and you’d developed a fondness for the city around you. It was a city of passion and that extended to food, history, and especially sports. A passionate place with the people to match it. 

With this new school and new city, you’d also found some new friends. Robin and Eddie, the three of you had found each other during the first week of freshman year and it had kind of just been that way ever since. You’d like to say you were Robin's best friend, but you knew that title was reserved for someone else. 

You didn’t know Steve Harrington, but you certainly knew of him. Hushed whispers and tired rumors always swirled through the air when Steve was around—and even when he wasn’t. 

Despite the reputation he seemed to have, you wondered if there was really any truth to it. Sure, he seemed charismatic and a little full of himself. Yes, he wore a smug smirk that you thought could bewitch just about anyone. But, when you sat on the sidelines and observed him, you noticed the way he tried to make everyone laugh. You’d seen firsthand how he took the time to talk to everyone around him and make sure they felt included in whatever the group was up to. You saw how he treated Robin, and cared for her. And plus, he couldn’t be that bad if she thought so highly of him, if she loved him so much.

So maybe you did know him, at least a little bit. 

But in reality you were a fairly optimistic person, so you kept your theories about Steve to yourself. You tended to look for the good in people, even when there wasn’t much to look at. A glass half full kind of gal. Which is why when you hear about the ladies man, the stereotypical asshole that is Steve Harrington, you keep your mouth shut and don’t add to the conversation at all. 

Even with Steve being Robin’s best friend, the two of you hardly ever overlapped. You’d see him in passing or he’d be coming to see Robin while you were leaving, but that was it. You weren’t sure why this was how it was, especially with how much she yapped about him. But really you think that Steve has his group of people and Robin has hers. The time they spent together was their own and you didn’t have any issues with that. 

And so when your professor pulls you aside after algebra ll, you realize your overlap with Steve Harrington just increased tenfold. 

“Steve is asking for some outside help and we talked about it and decided the group sessions that I do probably aren’t going to be a good fit. I know you’ve picked up some one on one sessions in the past and made you my first stop.” 

Although you don’t want to admit it, your heart beats a little faster at the thought of spending one on one time with Steve. You’re not sure if it’s excitement or dread—maybe a mix of both. 

“I, uh, I can do that. He’s serious about this right? I don’t want to waste my time if he’s not really wanting to learn something.” Okay, so maybe you’d let some of the rumors about him wiggle their way into your brain, but you couldn’t help it! 

“He is. From what I’ve seen he takes his classes seriously, despite what others say about him. I don’t think he’d ask for help just to make a joke out of it.”

She had a point, why would he go out of his way to seek tutoring if he wasn’t serious about it? And if someone needed some help and you could do it, you were going to. 

“Alright, I’m in. You can give him my number and I’ll see about setting something up.” 

———-

Your phone buzzing beside you while you laid in bed that night wasn’t out of the ordinary but it was strange when you looked and didn’t recognize the number on your screen. Until you remembered the conversation you’d had with Professor Benson that morning. And until you scrolled through the messages and saw his name. 

Unknown: Hi! I heard you agreed to be my tutor! Professor B didn’t tell me your name but thank you! 

Unknown: You are a lifesaver. 

Unknown: Oh shit this is Steve Harrington by the way. I forgot to mention that. 

Phone still clutched tightly in your hand, you cursed yourself for feeling nervous. He was being perfectly polite, cute even, and here you were with sweaty palms at the thought of texting him back. But you had to. You agreed to this and you wouldn’t go back on your word over some jitters. 

It only took you writing and rewriting the message about twenty times before you came up with something simple that didn’t make you cringe. 

Y/n: Hi, Steve! You’re welcome, I hope I can be of some help to you. I’m y/n, by the way. Did you have a certain time or place you wanted to meet up for your first session? I’m free most days after 6. 

Steve: Y/n? As in the person Robin has replaced me with? What a small world. 

Y/n: Funny. I don’t think anyone could replace your spot in Robin’s life, but yes that’s me.

A small smile worked its way on your lips as you went back and forth with him, some of the nerves slipping away. 

Steve: Well lucky me, I’ll finally get to spend some time with the girl I’ve heard so much about. But as for the first session, what about the library at 7 tomorrow? The tables in the back? 

You tried not to let the first part of his text affect you so much, but it did. If you were being honest, you didn’t think he even knew about you at all, so the thought that he had was making your pulse speed up. 

Y/n: Sounds perfect. I’ll see you then! 

Y/n: Oh and I’ve heard plenty about you too, all good things. 

Steve: Let’s hope I live up to my name then. See you tomorrow. 

———

Steve was living up to his name, but not the one Robin had given him. 

The day had passed quickly and before you knew it you were here about twenty minutes early with math textbooks and notes surrounding you. Now you wouldn’t fault Steve for not being early, that wouldn’t be fair, but you would fault him for being an hour late. 

Well technically he still hadn’t shown up. 

Ten or fifteen minutes, even half an hour you could brush off. Things happen, you get that. But you had no text, no call, no anything and you felt a steady stream of irritation flowing through you. Your texts had gone unanswered and while the rational part of you was concerned that something had happened, more than anything you were frustrated. 

You texted Robin to see if she knew anything about what was going on and she didn’t. If he wasn’t here by 8:45 you were leaving. That was more than fair and you cursed yourself for even giving him that much leeway. But really you hoped he didn’t show at all because now you were tired and pissed and certainly not in the mood to hear his excuses let alone tutor him. The thought of even speaking about math right now made you want to cry! 

It was a surprise your pencil didn't snap from how tight you were gripping it in your hand, your jaw clenched and the beginning of a headache pulsing behind your eyes. You’d try one more time, send one more text before you were done. 

Y/n: Can you at least let me know you’re alive?

That was fifteen minutes ago and still nothing. Looking down at your phone you see it’s now 8:50 and you push your chair back with a huff, standing up to stuff everything back into your bag, shoulders aching before you even add on the extra weight. 

It’s when you’re sliding in your laptop that you hear it. Panicked footsteps are hurrying toward you and you don’t even have to look up to know who it is. Any exhaustion you had is wiped away and replaced with red hot anger, the tips of your ears burning as you try to remind yourself to breathe. 

“Fuck, I’m here! Shit, I’m sorry but I’m here.”

You ignore him, it’s all you can do right now and honestly you think it’s best for both of you that you don’t speak. You’d been up since 5 am and that wasn’t his fault, but it definitely was his fault that he was showing up 2 hours late and keeping you up when you didn’t have to be. 

Zipping up your bag and grabbing your keys off the table you turn, brushing past him without so much as a glance before you’re heading to the doors of the library. Maybe you’re being a little dramatic but you don’t care. You hear him behind you, cursing under his breath and trying to quietly call your name but you keep going. Past the doors and down the sidewalk and straight ahead with a frown on your face. 

A hand on your arm stops you and you realize you manage to keep a few feet ahead of him for about four blocks. You don’t turn to him, don’t give any acknowledgment of his presence besides the pause of your feet. 

“I’m sorry I was a little late—”

That gets your attention and it’s enough to break the little silent treatment you’ve had going. It’s enough to have you pulling your arm away from his hand despite the warmth it provided as you turn to finally face him. 

“A little? Try two hours, Steve.” 

His nose scrunches and he looks away. You can see the embarrassment in his pinched brows and pouty lips but it does little to dull the frustration that’s been building inside of you since the half hour mark. 

But he’s standing in front of you for the first time and while he’s spewing sorry’s you’re taking him in. His hair is disheveled and his lips are a little swollen, like he or someone else has been biting on them. He’s wearing a lilac t-shirt that looks a little too good on him and jeans that hug him in all the right places. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. Time got away from me and I didn’t realize until I was leaving her house that it was so late! I thought I’d given us plenty of time but I guess I…I fucked up.” 

You don’t hear much after “leaving her house”, a new wave of anger washing over you and you have to fist your hands at your side to keep from knocking in his pretty white teeth. 

“Was everyone okay?” Your voice is calm and quiet, a little sprig of hope inside that maybe someone needed his help, something had happened and it was an emergency. You hated yourself a little bit for hoping for something like when in reality you knew the truth. He’d been too busy with a girl to remember you. 

And yes you realize it wasn’t so much you specifically as it was your tutoring session, but that didn’t make it sting any less. You were a girl, a girl who blushed around cute guys and who wanted to hold hands and kiss and go on dates. And so what if it hurt your feelings a little bit that Steve had forgotten you? You could get over that. But what you wouldn’t get over, at least tonight, was that he’d taken advantage of someone wanting to help him and wasted your time. 

“Oh, yeah, everyone’s okay. It was more like a…a date, I guess.” 

“Right. And your phone stopped working?” 

He scratched at the back of his neck with a sheepish look on his face, “I didn’t hear it go off and when I saw all your texts I was already almost here so I just didn’t respond.” Well at least he’s honest. 

“Okay. Maybe you should try out a group session with Professor B before you rule it out completely, you might do well with it.” 

He pulled back, eyes wide and a look of surprise written across features. You get the feeling he’s not used to being told no, even indirectly. “What does that mean?” 

“It means that it’s not fair to me to waste my time. I agreed to this because I wanted to help you but if you couldn’t be bothered to show up on time or even call me to let me know you couldn’t make it, it doesn’t really give me hope that this will be beneficial for either of us.” 

His face hardens the slightest bit and despite the pull you have to be a people pleaser, to say sorry and that it’s okay, you hold strong and straighten your shoulders as he stares down at you. 

“So that’s it? One strike and I’m out?” There’s almost a scoff when he says it, like he can’t believe you and it only adds fuel to the fire burning in your chest. 

“Well you haven’t exactly made a great first impression. If a date is more important than math, that’s fine. I really don’t care. But I won’t clear my nights and sit in libraries alone for someone that doesn’t take this seriously.” You watch him take in your words, furrow between his brows getting deeper the more you talk and you just keep going. “And for the record, I don’t owe you more than one shot. What’s the point of this if you’ll just strike out?” 

“I don’t strike out.” 

A laugh of disbelief flies out of you, hands going up like your surrendering, “Really? That’s all you got out of what I just said?” He shrugged at you and despite his pretty face you felt nothing but contempt for him right now. 

“It was a mistake. I lost track of time. If you think you’re too good to give me a shot to prove that I care, then whatever.” 

“You’re an asshole! Don’t try to-to manipulate me into feeling bad about you doing something shitty. Me setting a boundary with you does not mean I think I’m too good, it means I know my time is worth something and I don’t have to put up with bullshit from people, especially someone I don’t even know!” You can see the regret on his face, the way his features soften and his shoulders slump. “Maybe next time set an alarm or don’t schedule a date on the same day as tutoring. Or maybe let someone know you won’t make it before they sit there waiting for 2 hours to help you out. And maybe if you don’t do any of that, show up and don’t be an asshole when they’re upset about it. Maybe learn that you’re not entitled to people’s time and effort just because you think you deserve it.” 

Finished with your little rant you take a breath, hoping he doesn’t lash out at you because you feel your courage waning and you just want to go home and sleep. 

But all he does is nod at you with dim eyes before he’s turning on his heel and walking in the other direction before you can say anything else. Not that you would, you think you’d gotten it all out when you were standing in the middle of an almost empty street scolding him like a toddler. 

Maybe you’d been wrong in your theories about Steve Harrington. Or maybe you just didn’t fall into the group of people that got to see a different side of him. 

————-

Steve felt like shit. 

He’d lost the nerve to say anything when you tore into him like you did, and he deserved it. It was an asshole move to be 2 fucking hours late and then get upset at you being upset with him. And all for what? A girl he barely knew, who didn’t even like him and called him once every few weeks when she was bored? To be fair he didn’t really like her either, so that made him only feel more shitty. 

You’d told him off, which didn’t happen often and regardless of how pissed off or embarrassed he’d been, it was hard to stay upset when he noticed the cute little twitch your nose would do when you yelled at him. 

And he felt bad because you were Robin’s friend, one of her best friends! He’d been hearing about you for what seemed like forever and now that he was actually going to spend some time with you, he’d blown it. He knew you were a sweetheart, quiet most of the time and always willing to do anything for others. It had been a low blow trying to make you feel bad, he knew that. But he really needed your help here and was willing to do anything to get it. Even if it meant guilting you into it, I guess. 

He was well aware of his reputation around campus, grade A asshole with girls hanging off his arms every weekend. Hell, he played into it most of the time. It was easier to just play into what people expected sometimes, even if that meant being a dick. 

And okay, maybe he was guilty of being kind of cocky sometimes. He could be a little smug but he never meant to come off like too much of a prick. He liked to think it was charming sometimes. 

But right now he was worried about passing algebra and making things right with you. Robin would kill him if he didn’t, and he owed it to you to at least try to be decent. 

That’s how he finds himself here, standing in front of you and Eddie where you’re perched in the shade under a big tree in the center of campus. Before last night he’s never said more than a hello to you and he doesn’t think he’s ever even been this close to Eddie. 

He watches the two of you, the way you lean into Eddie as he walks closer and the way Eddie narrows his eyes like a guard dog who’ll bite if he gets too close. He feels a twinge of something deep in his stomach watching you cling to Eddie and maybe it’s because you’re so pretty or maybe it’s because Robin has built you up in his head to be this angel that he’s kind of enamored with. 

“Can I talk to you?” He’s wearing sunglasses so you can’t see the way his eyes dart around your face and settle on the small pout you're wearing on your glossy, peach colored lips. 

“You didn’t have much to say last night, nothing good at least.” You had one hell of a backbone, he’d give you that. From what he’d heard from Robin you tended to try your best to appease the people around you so a little spark shot up his spine at the thought of you not backing down to him. 

He didn’t miss the way Eddie smirked, looking between your stern eyes and the pleading puppy dog look Steve was wearing. He nudged your shoulder to grab your attention, “Oh hear him out, yeah? It won’t hurt anything.” Steve gave Eddie a quick, grateful nod and turned back just in time to see you rolling your eyes at the both of them. 

“5 minutes, Harrington.” 

Eddie got up, gesturing for Steve to take his place as he grabbed his stuff and sent a reassuring wink your way. Steve thinks with all the friends he has, he doesn’t have any besides Robin that really count. Maybe if he quit being an ass, you and Eddie would be his friends too. 

“First I wanna apologize for being late, and for not calling or texting to let you know. I do care about school and I appreciate you taking the time to try and help me. I’m sorry I took that for granted.” He watches your lips part in what could either be shock or surprise and the small nod you give makes him keep going. “And I’m really sorry for the shitty stuff I said. It was a dick move trying to make you feel guilty when you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m lucky you even agreed to help me in the first place, s’not your job. I guess I’m just…used to getting my way. It sounds shitty to say it out loud but I guess we both know it’s true. I realize you don’t owe me anything and I haven’t done anything to earn a second chance, so I’m sorry. I’m gonna try out a group session and see how that goes, I think. But uh, yeah, I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not going to apologize for anything.” Well, he has to admit that is not what he expected to come out of your mouth. Your shoulders had softened the slightest bit but your eyes were still weary of him. 

“I don’t expect you to, you did nothing wrong. I deserved you telling me off. Hell, I probably needed it. I just wanted you to know I was sorry, you deserved to hear it.” 

When you don’t say anything for a few minutes he takes that as his sign to leave, pushing himself off the ground beside you and dusting off his pants before you stop him with a sigh of his name. 

“Thank you—for the apology. I can tell you mean it and that’s all I wanted. It sounds like you actually heard what I was saying and…and if you want a second shot, you’ve earned one.” 

“Really?” He smiled wide at you, hand grabbing yours that you’d held out and he lifted you up with ease. You nodded at him and he felt relief all over. He didn’t realize he still had your hand in his until you gave him a squeeze and he dropped it, shrugging shyly. 

“Two strikes and you are out, Steve. Don’t make me regret this.” 

He couldn’t help the cocky smirk he flashed, hands going to his hips, staring down and not missing the way your throat bobbed at how close he was. 

“I told you I don't strike out, didn’t I?”

—————

You were very pleasantly surprised by Steve’s apology, kind of shocked by it too. You hadn’t expected much to come out of your little rant, let alone him seeming so genuinely sorry about what had happened. And he seemed to understand what you said, he let it soak in and took accountability for it. 

When he was standing there so sincere and upset, you couldn’t help but to offer him another chance. This was the Steve you thought you’d seen, kind and attentive. You were happy you weren’t totally wrong about him. 

But one thing you did realize was that Steve Harrington was a pest. He got under your skin in the best way possible and lit you on fire in a way that nobody ever had. It’s like he lit a spark in you and you loved every second, even if you pretended like he got on your nerves. 

In the last two weeks you and Steve had gotten together about 4 times, and it was going well! You’d realized within one session with him that he just needed some one on one time with the material. He grasps the concepts much easier when he has someone to walk him through a few problems at his own pace. 

And he’d been on time to every single one, even early to a couple. Today he even showed up before you, the little eager student that he was. 

You noticed the more time you spent together over the last two weeks and the more comfortable Steve became, the more he liked to tease you and watch you flush red under his stare. 

Like now you’re sitting beside him—you had sat down across from him but he pouted like a child and said it would be easier if you were closer—and he’s complaining about the quadratic formula for the millionth time. 

“We’re almost done, Steve. Two more problems and you’re free to go.” 

“I think I should get a reward for all this.” He would probably stomp his foot at you if he was standing up and you can’t help but huff a small laugh at the little frown he’s wearing, chin in his hand and shoulders slumped in annoyance. 

“You do. You’ll pass the class.”

He’s not amused by this, rolling his eyes and pinching the bare skin of your thigh where your shorts have moved from you shifting in your chair. You watch the spot turn pink and his touch, even something so quick and simple, has you buzzing. 

“Lame. I was thinking more of a kiss, let me have a quick taste of those pretty lips.” No matter how many times he mentions your mouth or how’d you taste it never fails to thrill you, your face heating and your eyes darting everywhere but his. 

It’s even worse when you watch the way he watches you, leaned back in his chair with his thighs spread and a smug look on his face. He’ll flash his teeth at you in a smile and send a quick wink that has you having to stop yourself from sinking between his open legs. He knows what he does to you and he loves it, soaks it up and never gets tired of it. 

You’ve turned back to your own notes, leaving Steve to work on the last few problems and of course he does anything but. It’s only been a few minutes when you feel something brush across your hair, you ignore it. A few seconds later something soft hits your cheek, and you ignore it. But when it hits your forehead you turn to him with a scowl, a little ball of paper between his fingers. 

“You are a child.” You swat at his chest and regret it when he catches your wrist in his hand, skin turning hot under his touch. You can’t look away from where his fingers wrap around you and it makes you dizzy to feel his rough hands against your skin. 

“Hit me again, baby.” 

That was another thing that had started, the pet names. He used your name sometimes, but called you baby, sweetheart, or doll when he wanted to make you stutter your words and stumble through your sentences. 

He’s smirking at you, eyes light and filled with amusement at the way your neck is turning a bright pink, reaching and reaching until your ears are burning. “C’mon, please?” 

“No reward for you if you don’t finish those problems.” Despite the turmoil going on inside your voice sounds cool, unaffected, and you thank god for that. 

“Fine. I can be a good boy when I want to be.” 

Ignoring him, you turn back to your notes, far too distracted to actually pay attention to them anymore but you still stare at the paper in front of you. You’re pleasantly surprised when he actually goes back to his work, finishing the problems quickly and you beam at him when they’re all right. 

“See! I told you, just need to take your time with this stuff. I’m proud of you, Steve.” For once he’s the one blushing, brushing it off like it’s nothing and asking for his reward. You should have known, a child never forgets a promise you make them. 

Leaning forward his eyes widen, darting over your face to check if this is really happening. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, not used to playing his games with him and it takes all the courage you have to let your lips brush over the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, before they find the shell of his ear. He’s still beside you, anticipating your next move and if you weren’t so hell bent on teasing him back, you’d kiss him right now. 

Your lips graze him and it’s your turn to smirk when his grip on the table in front of you tightens. His knuckles are white and his jaw is set with you so close to him. 

“Ice cream. That’s your reward.” 

Pulling back quickly so you can see his reaction, you beam at the way his lips are parted and his chest is heaving a little harder than it should be. He just watches you with wide eyes before something settles over him. Something that makes your stomach flutter and tells you you’ve started something that you won’t win. 

When he speaks you can’t help but watch the way his mouth wraps around the words so sensually you feel it all over, like he’s touching every inch of your skin and it’s addicting. 

“Perfect. M’dying for something sweet.” 

———-

He can’t stop thinking about the feeling of your lips on his skin, even if it lasted all of three seconds it’s running through his mind on a loop and making his head a mess. 

God he wishes you would have just bit down on him, sunk your teeth into his skin and let him feel your tongue soothe the burn. 

You’re walking side by side to your favorite ice cream place now, the sun is out and bright but despite that there’s a nice breeze that cools his skin. You would have already been there but he had to spend fifteen minutes distracting you from leaving just so he could stand up without getting arrested for indecent exposure. 

Remembering the small smile of victory you had makes him smile, but not as big as he’ll be smiling when he gets you back. He loves watching you preen under his touch, loves the way your chest rises and falls a little faster when he leans in towards you and loves even more the way your eyes go all big and round and your cheeks turn bright red when he says something cheeky. 

Spending some time with you over the last two weeks, it’s obvious to him why Robin is so obsessed with you. You’re hilarious, sometimes you make him laugh so hard his stomach hurts and he has tears in his eyes. He’d known you were a sweetheart but getting to see it firsthand gave him a goddamn toothache. Watching the way you smile at him so proudly when something finally clicks, how you listen to someone with such intent, no matter what they’re talking about. You’re just so kind and good that he wants to be as close to you as possible at all times. 

But this is the first time you two are venturing outside of the library together and he thinks he’ll spend much more time convincing you to do things with him besides math. Now that he’s got a taste he needs more, craves it. 

He doesn’t even notice you’ve arrived until you’re tugging on the sleeve of his shirt and giving him a smile as sweet as honey as you wordlessly point at the ice cream shop he’d just walked past.

Pulling open the door he lets you go first and looks around to see only a few people besides them in the shop. Perfect. 

Since there’s no line, you both go quickly. You opt for chocolate chip cookie dough in a cup and he decides on mint chocolate chip in a waffle cone. He notices the way your nose scrunches all cute at his choice and he rolls his eyes as he pulls out his card to pay before you can. 

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who’s gonna say it tastes like toothpaste or something.” Your jaw drops in offense and he has to roll his lips into his mouth to keep from laughing at how cute you are. 

“I wasn’t! I only made that face because I almost got it myself.” 

“And the thought of having a similar taste to me is making you feel sick?” 

“No, just didn’t peg you as a mint chocolate chip guy.” 

“So you’ve been thinking about pegging me.” He knows you’ve realized what you’ve done before the words even leave his mouth and he smirks at you anyways. He’ll take any chance to get you all flustered and riled up. 

“Pay for my damn ice cream, Harrington.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just quietly snickers to himself while you go and find a place to sit. He notices the way you choose a seat in the corner, far away from anyone else in the shop and he smiles. You probably know what’s coming, waiting for the other shoe to drop after your little stunt at the library and he loves seeing you all worked up and on edge. 

He likes it a little too much. 

Instead of sitting in the seat across from you he slips in the booth beside you instead, watching your eyes dart to the side to watch him carefully. He’s not sure why you’re surprised, he always takes any opportunity to be close to you. 

Slinging an arm around your shoulder he lets his fingertips toy with your hair, smiling when he feels you relax into him. “Can I have a bite?” You seem to not think anything of his request, lifting your spoon up to his mouth and he lets you slip it between his lips, your eyes trained on his mouth and his on you. 

He hums around the spoon and lets his teeth catch when you drag it from his mouth. You shake your head at him, leaning slightly against his chest and enjoying the quiet between you too. 

It’s go time. 

“Wanna bite?” He’s looking down at you and you nod sheepishly, leaning forward to meet him halfway when he moves his cone towards your mouth. Right when he reaches your lips he moves the cone an inch over and touches the ice cream against the corner of your mouth. 

Before you can reach for a napkin he grabs your wrist, smiling all innocent when you look at him with confusion in your eyes. “I got it, don’t worry.” 

And when he leans forward and moves his head down to be eye level with you, he smirks at the hitch in your breath when he leans forward and lets his tongue swipe over the sweetness there, his tongue catching the corner of your mouth. 

The spoon clatters on the table between you and he hasn’t moved, face just inches away from yours and his hand isn’t playing with your hair anymore, it’s gripping the back of the booth so tight it hurts. 

“Steve..” A breathless little plea leaves your now clean mouth and it takes everything in him not to go in for another taste. He pulls back just enough to watch your eyes flutter close and your head fall back to lay against his arm that’s still behind you. There’s a shine on your cheek from his spit and he’s so hard he can feel his heartbeat all through his body. 

Despite the cockiness running through him at the way you’ve melted, his voice is quiet and breathless just like yours when he speaks where only you can hear him. “What? Just cleaning you up, messy girl.” 

He feels something cold on his hand and looks down to see his ice cream melting, spilling over the cone and running down his fingers. When he looks back he sees you staring at them too, a look in your eyes that has him reeling. 

If there wasn’t anyone else here he’d have you lick his fingers clean, he can see the way you’re itching to do it.

But there’s more people coming into the shop and he’s seconds away from dragging you into the bathroom so he needs to get you out of here, get into the fresh air and out of the little bubble you’ve created. 

“You ready, Stevie?” He loves when you call him that, it makes his chest feel all warm and he just wants to nuzzle into you when you say it. He must have been staring at you, too busy thinking about how bad he wanted you to do anything else. 

He nods, sliding out of the booth and holding out his now clean hand to you, body buzzing when you take it and he feels your skin against his. You walk out and into the street and the breeze on his skin is a life saver. 

Your apartment is just two blocks away from the ice cream shop and the walk there is quiet, both of you thinking about his tongue so close to your mouth. His hand brushes yours as you walk and he feels his fingers twitch with the need to slip your hands together. 

“Good reward then?” It’s you that breaks the silence and he’s grateful, his heart racing in his chest despite the smug smirk he’s wearing looking down at you. 

“Oh baby, the best.”

—————

You and Steve spend about four days a week together at this point and you’re not convinced he even needs that much tutoring but you don’t complain. You’ll take any chance to spend some time with him. 

The two of you have also decided to forgo the library, taking turns having it at his place or yours and most times you work on actual school stuff for about half an hour before he’s distracting you with a movie or a game or a promise of food. 

It’s been a few weeks since that day at the ice cream shop, where he licked the corner of your mouth and sent you spiraling. Having him that close was overwhelming enough, let alone feeling him on your skin. 

Since then things haven’t changed much, he teases you and sometimes you retaliate but oftentimes you just sit there red faced and let him enjoy how flustered he makes you. He’s still touchy and smug all the time, but hasn’t put his tongue anywhere near you since. Unfortunately. 

Tonight you’re both at your place, you lying out across your couch in a t-shirt and pajama shorts that really don’t fit you anymore but you refuse to get rid of. Steve is on the floor in front of you stretched out and scrolling through his phone while you switch between watching the tv and watching him. 

He’s been less like himself tonight, quiet and there's a little furrow between his brows that has you worried. By this point he’d usually be wrapped around you, playing with your hair or rubbing at your neck. But he’d barely touched you today, barely teased you and you wondered what had happened between yesterday and today that had him so out of sorts. 

Regardless of his mood, he takes time to admire the way your ass peaks out of the bottom of those shorts, his jaw clenching when he gets a peak at the smooth skin there. He can spot where your ass meets your thigh and he wants to bury his face there. 

You're pulled from your thoughts when he sits up, sitting his phone on the edge of the couch beside you and using your thigh to hoist himself off the ground. “Be right back, honey.” 

You just nod, stretching out your legs and trying to memorize how the heat of his palm felt gripping your skin. He goes to the bathroom, the click of the lock sounding out at the same time his phone lights up beside you. 

You don’t mean to look. Really, you planned to call out to him and go back to the shitty reality tv show that was playing in front of you but when you see a name you recognize you can’t help but to look. 

And you immediately regret it. 

Brooke: Are you still coming over tonight? It’s been over a month, I miss you. 

The blood drains from your body and you feel a pit so deep in your stomach you think you might be sick. You know Brooke, everyone knows Brooke. And you don’t keep up with that Steve does but he’s spent most of his time with you for the last month, so you can’t help but wonder if the last time he saw her was the day of his first tutoring session. 

And that should make you feel a little better, should dull the raging jealousy coursing through you but it doesn’t. It doesn’t because from her text, he’s already made plans to go over. Maybe this is why he’s being so weird tonight, he’s ready to go see…her. And then you’re even more upset because it was your idea to hang out tonight and you wish he would have just said no because then you wouldn’t have seen this text and you wouldn’t feel like you’re about to cry. 

You and Steve weren’t together, hadn’t even gone on a date or kissed or been anything more than friends. But that doesn’t mean you haven’t developed this huge crush on him that’s taken over every part of your brain. And the teasing, the touches, they meant something to you. 

Maybe that was your mistake. 

Maybe he’s that way with everyone and you read too much into it. Maybe you’ve spent so much time together because he actually did need that much help with fucking algebra and stuck around because he felt like he owed you or something. 

In a matter of seconds your whole friendship was Steve was up in the air in front of you and you found yourself dissecting every interaction and graze of skin and now you just wanted to curl up into your bed and forget all of it. 

You liked him, a lot more than you would care to admit and for the first time since that first night, you felt uncomfortable being in the same place as him. 

The click of the bathroom lock snaps you from your spiral and you pull yourself off the couch, gathering up trash from the snacks you’d eaten so you don’t have to look him in the eye. And you shouldn’t say anything, should pretend it didn’t happen and figure this out later but you can’t help but let the words slip out when he walks back into your living room. 

“Got a text while you were in the bathroom.” He doesn’t say anything but doesn’t really have the chance because you’re rushing into the kitchen and deciding that now is the best time to do those dishes you meant to do before he came over. 

Hopefully he’ll just…go. You know he won’t but maybe that would be easier if you didn’t have to see him again tonight or smell him or touch him. The water is hot, too hot to be sticking your hands under but scrubbing at this plate is all that’s keeping the tears that are building from falling down your cheeks. 

“Y/n…” He’s behind you now, close enough that you can feel his presence and you know if you just took one step back you’d be pressed up against his chest, you’d feel the warmth that always comes from him. So you stay where you are, the edge of the sink digging into your stomach but you try and scoot closer to it anyways. 

A noncommittal hum is all he gets from you. You don’t move your head to look at him, you can’t because if you do you’re not sure you won’t cry. And you can’t let him see you cry over something that was never there. 

“Can you look at me? Please?” His voice is low and sweet, a hint of a plea in his tone that makes your insides twist painfully. You just shake your head, scrubbing at this plate so hard you’re worried it might snap in your grip. 

His hand is on your shoulder now and a shaky breath escapes your lips, the tears building behind your eyes and you will them away. There's nothing to cry over. He’s your friend. That’s all. “If you need to leave, that’s fine. Seriously it’s—you can go if you want.” Your voice cracks the slightest bit, but he notices. Of course he does. 

“Sweetheart, look at me.” 

Your chest hurts at the endearment and you squeeze your eyes shut tight because you know he’s wearing that puppy dog look he does so well. You know his eyes are round and full of concern, or even worse, pity. You know his bottom lip is jutting out in a pout and it makes you want to take the plate you’ve scrubbed clean and smash it into a million pieces. 

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Steve, it’s that he won’t give in. He’ll stand behind you all night, miss his date with Brooke if that’s what it takes. He won’t give up until you’re looking at him, but you don’t know why. Don’t know why he wants to see you upset. But you turn around anyways, cheeks blotchy and a sheen of tears ready to fall at any given moment. 

His lips part softly and his hands are hovering between you, not sure if he should reach over and touch you. “It’s not—she’s not…I don’t want to leave.” 

“Okay.” 

“I don’t know why I even made the plans in the first place! I’d rather be here with you anyways.” 

“Okay.” 

He’s pacing in front of you now, hands fisted in his hair and he looks like he’s freaking out, chewing on his bottom lip and mumbling under his breath while you just stand there and stare at your feet on the floor. 

“I’ve just been…my mind has been fucked lately and I don’t know what I even think anymore and I do stupid shit when I don’t know what do to.” 

“Okay, Steve.” 

“Are you just gonna keep saying okay?” He’s stopped pacing, the stare he’s wearing keeps you still in place against the sink and you feel like shrinking under his gaze. 

“What do you want me to say? If you want to go hang out with her, you can! You’re an adult, Steve. You don’t have to spend all your time with me.” 

“But I want to.” Heart thudding hard in your chest you try to make sense of what he’s saying, what he’s not saying. He’s giving you something, dancing around what he wants to say and you won’t give yourself false hope, won’t read too far into this. You’ve become friends, best friends even and you don’t want to fuck that up. 

“Then stay.” 

You should talk about this, you know it and he knows it. You should get everything out in the open so there’s no more secret plans and unshed tears but you don’t. Instead he nods at you, coming closer and wrapping his arms around you so you’re nuzzled against his chest. Neither of you say anything, just sit there wrapped up in each other for who knows how long before he pulls back and tugs you to the living room, sitting down and pulling you into his side with no words spoken between you. 

The show drones on around you, but you’re not paying attention. Your mind is too busy, too many thoughts swirling around to even try and focus on anything but him. He sinks down further into the couch and you move with him, your head resting against his chest and his hand lying still on your hip. 

“M’sorry I made you sad. Never want to do that, you’re too pretty to cry over me, too sweet.” 

You just nod against him, closing your eyes and feeling the thump of his chest on your cheek. He doesn’t say anything else and you’re grateful. 

————-

It’s been almost a week since that night in your apartment. A week since Steve got that text and you almost lost your shit. A week since you realized how deep your feelings for him actually ran. 

When you had woken up that next day Steve was still there, hand still on your hip with his head thrown back in what couldn’t be comfortable as he slept beside you. He woke up soon after and both of you just…pretended it hadn’t happened. The last week had been normal, so normal you’d convinced yourself that night was some sort of glitch. 

Steve continued to spend most of his days with you, continued to flash those smug grins your way when he sees something inappropriate and you continue to flush under his stare, preen under his praise and stick to his side like glue. 

That’s how you are now, sprawled under that same big tree Steve had come to apologize to you under all those weeks ago. He’s sitting up with his legs stretched out in front of him and your head is on his lap, Eddie beside you hunched over and working on something you can’t see, Robin beside Steve with a book she’s not reading in her hand. 

He’d also been spending more time with the three of you and it made your heart warm. All your favorite people getting along and hanging out.

“We should all go to Lansdowne this weekend.” That suggestion couldn’t have come from anyone but Steve. Eddie scrunches his nose at the thought immediately, tongue sticking out like it left a bad taste in his mouth. Robin groans like she’s physically pained by the thought. 

“Now don’t sound too excited.” Lansdowne was a little pub near Fenway Park that Steve was obsessed with. They usually had live music and were packed to the brim with bodies every weekend. Robin and Eddie despised it, always too crowded for their liking. 

“I’ll go, Steve. But you’re buying my first drink.” 

“That’s my girl!” He patted your head like you were a puppy, grin wide as he turned to stick out his tongue at Eddie and Robin who just rolled their eyes dramatically and went back to ignoring whatever Steve would ramble on about next. 

Neither of you noticed the way Eddie and Robin watched you, knowing smiles on both their faces as they took the sight of you two in. They watched Steve brush your hair out of your face, a look of fondness on his face that Robin hasn’t seen him show anyone before. They watch you snuggle into him, content and comfort written all over your features. 

————-

There was a small bit of regret about quickly agreeing to go out with Steve. Friday came before you knew it and you were tired, so tired from a long week of school and work. It seemed like everything that could have gone wrong this week, did and it had you mentally and physically drained. 

The temptation to text Steve and bail was clawing at you, but you couldn’t. Usually spending time with him was something that made you feel better, so you hoped that was the case tonight. 

It was nice out, not too hot but just warm enough to indulge in summer clothes. Dressing up for tonight was out of the question, you needed to be comfy if you were going to be squished against sweaty bodies and pulled through big crowds. 

That was how you found yourself now, tucked into Steve’s side at the bar at 11pm with a short denim skirt snug around your hips that you’d found in the back of your drawer and a cropped pink t-shirt that molded to your chest. A few inches of skin showed above your skirt and the feel of Steve’s palm resting there had you blushing already. 

You were both three drinks in, a nice buzz in your veins that had you giggling into his chest without embarrassment. When you’d seen him tonight, you knew you were going to need some liquid reinforcements to survive. He’d been wearing a dark green button up that he left undone, tight white tank top underneath that showed the outline of his chest. A pair of light wash denim jeans cinched around his waist with a belt. 

There might have been an audible gulp at the sight of him, but with three dirty shirley’s pumping through you, you eyed him up without care, taking in every inch of him with a palpable hunger. 

His breath is hot against your skin when he leans down to try and whisper in your ear, but ends up talking much louder than he meant to. “Forgot to mention it’s karaoke night.” 

“I am not participating in that.” 

That little frown he does when he doesn’t get his way pops up, lips pouted at you like you’d stolen his candy. “Why not?” 

“Between the two of us you’re the rockstar, Harrington, not me.” 

Before he could open his mouth to argue, someone called his name from across the bar, a man holding a clipboard that looked less than impressed with his job. Somehow in the short time you’d been here Steve had gotten his name down on the list for karaoke without you knowing, and it was his turn now. 

He gave you a quick wink that had you almost melting before him, a small smirk as he squeezed your shoulder and started to push his way through the crowds of people. “Eyes on me, baby.” 

Liked you’d be able to look anywhere else. 

You watch him hop up on the small stage that’s only a few feet tall, no hint of nervousness on his face as he smiles at the small crowd that’s paying attention to him. There’s lights focused on him and you think he was made to be in the spotlight with how good he looks up there. You’re somewhere in the middle of the crowd but he spots you easily, winking before he strips off his button down, tossing it to the side of him. 

The sight of him up there with his tank top tucked nicely into his jeans does little to help with the fuzziness you were already feeling from the drinks. You’re careful not to drool at his arms on display, bulging slightly when he lifts them to grip his hands around the mic. 

“Hello, Boston!” 

You’d think this was his personal show the way the crowd cheered back at him, encouraging what you know was nothing but mischievous behavior. He’s getting the attention of more of the bar the longer he stands up there and you can’t blame them, he’s a sight to see. 

“You all look beautiful tonight!” 

A laugh bubbles out of you when the beginning notes of Mr. Brightside by the Killers boom from the speakers behind him, not sure why you expected anything else from him. 

He’s practically bouncing on his heels as he sings the first few notes—and so is his hair. But your laughter and amusement is quickly replaced by something fiery and strong that builds in your stomach as you watch him. 

His hands are wrapped around the microphone in front of him, eyes screwed shut when he gets to the chorus and you feel like you’re on fire. During a pause his head is thrown back, throat bobbing for everyone to see and you try to trace the beads of sweat running down his throat from your spot in the middle of the bar. 

When he starts singing again—and fuck he’s good—his eyes are open and on yours, coming so close to the microphone you can see the way his lips pucker against it on certain notes and you’re thankful it’s so packed in here, the people around you keeping you from falling to the ground. 

Jealousy, turning saints into the sea

Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis

But it's just the price I pay, destiny is calling me

Open up my eager eyes, 'cause I'm Mr. Brightside

About seven feet are between you but with the bright lights shining on him you watch in awe as his raspberry lips wrap around the words and his tongue swipes out and darts across them every few seconds. He looks ethereal on that stage, hair slicked back from running his fingers through it and hips rocking side to side in time with the beat. 

His voice is pure silk and honey, like he was born to sing this song and it has your heart racing so fast in your chest it’s hard to catch your breath. He’s jumping around, putting on a noteworthy performance while the patrons around you yell and dance with him. 

Every once in a while his nose bumps against the mic and you can’t get over how alluring he looks with his lips grazing the mic. He’s captivating, stealing the attention of almost everyone in the room now and your heart swells in your chest. 

It takes you a second longer to realize the song has ended, cheers and hollering making your ears ring as he basks in the attention on stage. You can see that cocky smirk from here, his eyes dark and cheeks red as he blows you a kiss when he catches your eyes again. 

Maybe you could use another drink after all. 

 —————

Steve was sweaty from karaoke, his hair sticking to his forehead and neck, button up he’d been wearing thrown somewhere and he was sure he’d never see it again. The tank top he wore was clinging to his skin and he wished he could peel it off, the stickiness in the air of the bar doing nothing to cool him down. 

But he saw the way you watched him up there, your eyes trained on his mouth or his hands the whole time and it made him feel electric. The way you licked your lips like he was your next meal could have him on his knees for you in an instant. 

He’d lost you when he got off the small stage, eyes searching through the crowd and sighing in relief when he finds you standing by the bar, chin in your palm as you swirl your drink around. 

That relief is short-lived when he sees some douche come up beside you, a charming grin plastered on his face and his eyes dark as he takes you in. Steve sees red when he places one of his hands on your waist, his palm touching your bare skin since you’d chosen a crop top for tonight. 

Possessiveness stirs in his belly, hands fisted at his side at the laugh you give him. It’s fake, he can tell, but it still makes his jaw clench uncomfortably. 

You’re not interested in this guy, he can see that. You’ve leaned back enough to create some space between the two of you and your eyes dart around the bar quickly and he knows you’re looking for him. 

Little did you know that even if you weren’t looking for him, he’d still be there. He’d always be there. Couldn’t keep himself away from you even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. He’d become addicted to your strawberry scent and your sweet little giggles. He’d become addicted to you. 

It’s when this asshole lifts his hand to brush a piece of your hair away from your face that Steve starts to move, shoulders shoving through the crowd with ease and he sees the way your body relaxes when you catch sight of him heading towards you. 

The thought of someone else touching your skin, feeling how smooth it is and how it warms up under their touch has him gritting his teeth. His jaw twitches thinking about you looking up at someone besides him with stars in your eyes. 

When he’s within reach he lays his hand on your exposed thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh there and placing a quick kiss on your forehead. “Told ya I’d be right back, doll.” He doesn’t acknowledge the man beside him, eyes focused on yours. 

Your thighs clamp shut around his hand and a devious smirk plays on his lips at the feeling. “Who’s this?” He cocks his head towards the man that had been trying to talk to you, not looking his way but finally acknowledging his presence. Douchebag is still there, watching the scene unfold in front of him with little amusement. 

“I-I don’t know. We were just talking.” Steve hums at you, eyes drinking in the little drops of sweat rolling down your neck and down your shirt. He’s itching to lean forward and collect them on his tongue, to taste any part of you he can get his hands on. 

You yelp when his fingers pinch at your inner thigh, hands coming up to grip his forearm in surprise. He doesn’t miss the way your hips shifted forward though, searching for his touch instinctively. 

“Don’t want these boys talking to you, do you?” He’s leaning closer to you but still talking loud enough that the prick who can’t take a hint can hear him. You shake your head quickly and he smiles. “It’s because you’re my girl, isn't it baby? Want them to know you’re mine to take home, mine to play with, mine to keep.” 

At this point he’s not even talking for the benefit of saving you from some creep in a bar, you both know that. He’s not just staking his claim so they’ll leave you alone, he’s telling you the truth, what you both already know but refuse to talk about. He’s yours as much as you are his. It’s been that way for weeks. 

For him it’s been that way since you ripped him a new one, tore into him for being an asshole with your big round eyes that twitched in anger at his attitude. 

You’re nodding at him with blown out eyes, thighs still keeping his hand trapped between them. The guy you’d been talking to is long gone but neither of you seem to notice or care. 

“So say it.” His lips are tilted in a smirk, knowing eyes watching you shift and squirm under his stare. He feels himself thickening in his pants, head of his cock pressed up against the zipper painfully but he doesn’t care. He’d stand here in pain all night if you kept looking at him like that. 

“I’m your girl.” 

His chest swells with pride, grinning down at you and watching you just eat up the unsaid praise. You’re blooming under his gaze, chest puffing out the slightest bit and his mouth waters. 

It’s hard to breathe when you’re looking at him like that. His stomach feels tight and a feeling he can’t quite describe takes over. He wants to feel your skin on his, to taste you, smell you, anything you’ll give him. But he also feels like he could be sick, just looking at you being too much for him right now. 

He uses his thumb to tap on your thigh so you’ll open them for him, pulling his hand out and tugging on your wrist to pull you back to the middle of the dance floor. Your obedience thrills him, makes his spine tingle and heart race. He should’ve known you were a good girl, the best one really. You don’t even question him as he grips your hips in his hand, pulling you flush against him while the music booms around you. 

Neither of you are really moving, just standing there pressed together while bodies push and move around you. One hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer so that he can lean down and talk in your ear where you’ll hear him. 

“Saw the way you were watching me up on the stage earlier.” 

Your hands are clinging to his shirt and he feels your grip tighten, smiling knowingly against your ear. He loved the way you watched him, the way your eyes never left him like you were mesmerized. 

“You looked good up there, like a natural.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Hmm, my rockstar.” 

The praise shoots down his spine and makes his body buzz. He’s watching the way your hair flows over your shoulder and he wants to tug on it, make your head fall back and expose your throat to him. 

You pressed against him mixed with the sticky air surrounding you is too much, his head feels fuzzy and he’s seconds away from biting on your lips and licking into your mouth. 

“Let’s get out of here.” 

———————

In hindsight, deciding to take the train at 1 am on a Friday night was a stupid idea. Anyone and everyone in the city chose that time to pile on. For a second you’re worried you’ll lose Steve in the crowd of people but a few seconds later you feel his fingers slip through yours and tug you to his side. 

“Can’t risk losing my precious cargo.” 

The ringing in your ears is either from the feel of his skin touching yours or the tell tale screech of the train approaching. When it pulls up in front of you, your cringe at how crowded it already is, forehead covered in a sheen of sweat before you even step on. The doors open and Steve is pulling you through the bunches of people, tugging you through and moving you to stand in front him when he sees an opening. 

Your back is pressed against the opposing doors and you sigh in relief at the coolness it provides. That relief is short lived when you peek over Steve’s shoulder to see more people piling on. He presses closer to you to make room and your heart thuds harshly against your chest. 

His feet are spread slightly to be on either side of yours, arms over your head to hold on to the railing and it feels like he’s caging you in. He’s pressed up against you completely, your chin touching his chest and lips hover near your forehead. 

It doesn’t help that his arms are on full display, button up he was wearing long gone since before karaoke and instead adorned in a white tank top that’s like a second skin. It’s hugging his chest and waist and it’s taking everything in you not to lean forward and nip at his arm. 

And then you’re thinking about how he looked on stage. Pure sex as he captivated the crowd with his effortless charm and talent. You think you could watch him like that forever. 

Fuck. All you could feel was him, his breath on your skin and his body keeping yours snug against the doors. You’re not sure you could even move, not that you wanted to. Tilting your head back an inch you look up at him, eyes glancing over his strawberry mouth that’s tilted into a smirk, looking up further to see how he’s watching you closely. 

Honey eyes staring into yours scream mischief and when you breathe in you feel your knees falter, a sweetness washing over your senses. Just the smell of him was enough to have your skin tingling, hints of cherry and vanilla from where you were practically nuzzled against his throat. 

Your hand was wrapped tightly against the pole in front of you and the feel of the cool metal against your palm did little to help with the heat you felt burning through your chest. The train lurched forward and the hand that was dangling by your side shot out to fist at the fabric of Steve’s shirt. The fucking white tank top he was wearing. 

“Eager, are we?” His tone was teasing and when you took a quick glance down to see a sliver of his stomach showing where you had his shirt tight in your grasp, your thighs squeezed together involuntarily. 

“Oh please.You just happened to be the closest thing to me, Harrington.” 

He feigned offense, knowing smirk never leaving his face and you stifled a groan when you felt his stomach twitch against your hand. You thought that if you had to be pressed against him for much longer you might just pass out. 

When you look up to see you still have a few stops before yours, you release your grip on his shirt and try not to notice the disappointment that floods through you when your hold on him is gone. He seems to notice too, eyebrows furrowing for a split second before his expression goes back and he’s smiling down at you again. 

“Ya know,” He tilts his head to the side like he’s wondering about something important but his expression holds nothing good. “You look good like this, pressed up against me all flushed and pretty.” 

Arousal seeps down your spine and curls around your belly like a boa constrictor, your throat all of a sudden dry and you can’t seem to do anything but blink up at him. 

“Going dumb already? You really are precious cargo.” 

You have about an ounce of self control left and that’s what keeps you from letting a whimper slip into the sticky air between you. You know he can read your emotions on your face but you try and school your features anyways, lifting your leg that’s trapped between his and pressing your weight down on his foot. 

It just makes his sickly sweet smile even bigger and your breath hitches when he leans down to press his lips against the shell of your ear. You dig your fingertips into your palm when he lets his tongue swipe against his bottom lip and it catches your skin as it does. 

“Trying to hurt me, baby? Why don’t you bite me next? Pretty please?” He brings his hand up between you as he talks, uses his thumb to swipe at your bottom lip and if you weren’t on the fucking train you’d part your lips for him and take his thumb into your mouth. You think you want that a little too much to be so close to him right now. 

For the first time since you’ve moved here, the train is your saving grace. The doors pull open and the cool air of the night hits you, breaking you from whatever little trance Steve had put you under. It clears out enough that he can step to your side now, giving you some much needed space to try and get yourself together. 

The chatter around you has died down and while you feel marginally more in control of yourself, the smell of Steve and the feel of his arm brushing against yours beside you is enough to keep you on your toes. 

“Cooling down over there?” 

“Yes actually, no thanks to you.” 

He shrugs his shoulders innocently and if he hadn’t just been whispering in your ear about liking the pain then you might actually believe the sweet look he was wearing on his face. “Oops.” 

The next stop is yours and while you’re trying to figure out if Steve is coming with you or if you’re gonna have to figure out some weird goodbye, he’s already five steps ahead. When the train comes to a stop and the doors open he’s grabbing your hand again and pulling you out of the train and into the breeze that cools the sweat on your neck. 

“M’gonna walk you home, okay?” You nod wordlessly, letting your hands swing gently between you as you make your way through the now quiet streets. Everyone is either deep into the city until the bars close or already tucked away in their beds after a long work week. Few people litter the streets but you don’t hear much besides the buzz of the train pulling away and the soft hum coming from the person beside you. 

It doesn’t take long before you reach your building nestled in between two others that look just like it and while you fumble through your bag for your keys you feel his gaze burning into the side of your face. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet since we left the bar.” 

A noncommittal hum is all you give him and he’s not a fan of that, reaching forward and plucking your apartment key from between your fingers before you even register what’s happening. You reach out automatically but he’s pulling back and out of your reach. 

“Why?” 

“Why what?” You know what he’s asking and you’re just making this harder for the both of you but he’s had you so on edge since he got on stage and was all…rockstar and sex that you’re scared about what might come out of your mouth if you’re not careful. 

“Why have you been so quiet since we left the bar?” 

“Not much to say I guess…”

“Bullshit.” 

You blink at him owlishly, lips parted in surprise but you can’t deny the little tingle that starts at your toes and makes its way up your body at him calling you out. “Excuse me?” Your voice sounds pathetic and breathless to your own ears at this point so you can only imagine how you look to Steve right now. 

“I call bullshit. Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you blush every time you make eye contact or you look at my arms,” Fuck he caught you. “Or the way you clench those pretty thighs everytime I whisper in your ear or get a little too close to you.” 

Your chest is rising and falling harshly and if he wasn’t taking up every inch of your brain right now you’d be embarrassed by how he had you panting at him. Any confusion he had vanishes and you curse yourself for being so easy for him to read. Like a fucking open book. 

“Oh that’s it. Scared of what might come out of that pouty little mouth, aren’t you? You listen to me talk to you all sweet and dirty and it just makes you all dumb, doesn’t it? S’cute. You’re cute.”

“Shut up! You…you idiot.” It was a weak attempt at a comeback and you felt yourself scrunch your nose at yourself while Steve chuckled. He stepped closer, his hands on his hips as he looked down at you. 

“That’s the best you got?” You were toe to toe now—literally—and you felt yourself shrinking under his gaze. You hated how good he was at making you squirm, how you felt his words on your skin like standing under the sun in the summer heat. But most of all you despised that you didn’t hate it at all.

“You’re an asshole, you know that? A big one.” 

He flashed his teeth at you, hand going up to his chest like your words hurt him. “Oooh there ya go, that’s a little better. But if you’re gonna call me names, I’ve got some you can try. How about dadd—”

“Steve!” You practically hissed at him, smacking his shoulder and huffing like a child at the way he laughed loudly at your expense. He laughed so hard there were little crinkles in the corner of his eyes, grin so big his dimples popped out and you had to stop yourself from poking at it. 

“Alright, alright. No need to get violent, baby. At least take me to dinner first.” Rolling your eyes you snatched your key from him while he was occupied, turning to your door and muttering under your breath. Asshole. Jerk. Moron. Hot. Hot. Hot. 

He laid his hand on your shoulder softly to get your attention and when you turned back he was rolling his lips together, trying to keep his amusement at bay for your sake. He had a way of doing that you’d noticed, looking like a little puppy dog when he wanted to. You hated how much it worked. 

“M’done, I swear. For tonight at least. Thanks for coming out with me, I had a lot of fun.” 

“I did too, even if you’re a pest.” 

“Oh c’mon, you love it.” I do. God I love it so much it’s kind of sick. 

“In your dreams, Harrington,” You knew you set yourself up when he opened his mouth, that gleam in his eye that meant nothing but trouble. You beat him to it though, and the little pout he wore made you melt. “Text me when you get home safe, okay? And thanks for walking me home.” 

“Anytime, sweetheart.” 

Reaching up like he was going to sweep you hair out of your eyes, he must’ve changed his mind because he pinched your cheek instead, laughing to himself when you grumbled at him and smacked his hand away. 

You’d watched as he walked away, watched until you couldn’t see him anymore before you finally went inside, trudging up the stairs to your apartment and feeling your nerves settle once you were finally alone.

It was like you could breathe again, that ache you’d felt all night still thumping but more dull now than it had been in his presence. You finally felt cool and relaxed. Until your phone buzzed about twenty minutes later. 

Steve: Made it home safe and sound. Not a scratch on me.

Steve: Well besides the ones you left on me when you were pawing at me on the train! 

Y/n: Idiot! 

Steve: We really need to work on expanding your vocabulary. Maybe I could tutor you. :)

Steve: Whoops I meant ;), it’s hard to type one handed. 

You gasped and you swear you’d just burst into flames from how hot your face felt staring down at your phone. Was he…he wouldn’t. But did you mind if he did? No. Fuck, no. But you couldn’t just let him know that. 

Y/n: Steve Harrington you are sick! 

Steve: What?? I’m eating cereal and texting you! Trying to multitask here. 

Steve: Get your mind out of the gutter you filthy girl. 

He’d played you and you took the bait so easily! At this point you should know he’d take any opportunity to embarrass you, you both knew you loved it. He loved getting you all flushed and squirmy and you loved pretending like it didn’t light you up inside. 

Now you were thinking about him touching himself, your thighs sore from squeezing together and your heart racing. You wanted to know how he looked doing it, what he sounded like…Jesus Christ you needed to get a grip. It wasn’t until your phone buzzed in your hand that you realized you hadn’t texted him back. 

Steve: Your cheeks are all hot, aren’t they?

Oh fuck off. 

Y/n: No! They have no reason to be! 

Steve: Oh they definitely are. You’re all hot and bothered thinking about me only using one hand to text you. You’ve got a dirty mind!

He was taunting you, you knew that. Baiting you and wrapping it up with a nice shiny bow. And you’d take it every time. 

Y/n: You knew what you were doing! You set me up. 

Steve: Little ol’ me? As if I’d ever do such a thing! I’m offended you’d even suggest that. 

Just imagining the shit eating grin he was wearing riled you up even more, your blood pumping and your fingers twitching as you typed furiously back to him. 

Y/n: Playing innocent won’t work with me, Harrington. I know your tricks and they only make my cheeks red because they piss me off! Go fuck yourself, idiot! 

Steve: You wanna watch? ;) 

You thought about throwing your phone at the wall, watching it smash into a thousand tiny pieces and letting every trace of that arrogant, smug, hot asshole wash away. But you were not so secretly relishing in the back and forth, your tummy a ball of excitement. 

Y/n: In your dreams. 

His reply was instant and it made you fist your bed sheets tight, toes curling in your socks and if you were standing you’d be sure to fall to your knees. 

Steve: Oh you know it, baby. 

Steve: Maybe next time. You’ve been a dirty girl calling me all those mean names. Come kiss it better?

When a picture came in seconds after his last reply you dropped your phone to your bed, eyes wide and pulse thumping in your ears as you took in the image before you. 

Steve lying on his bed, shirtless. He was lying against his navy blue pillowcase, one arm thrown behind his head and he showed just enough of his torso for you to see a patch of chest hair that made your fingernails dig so deep into your palm you were surprised you didn’t draw blood. His hair was tousled like he’d tugged at it and his mouth held the most perfect little pout. You assumed that’s what you were supposed to be kissing better. 

It had been several minutes since you’d moved so it didn’t make sense why your breathing was so heavy and why there was sweat gathering at the base of your neck. All you could think of was leaving your mark over his chest and shoulders, deep purple spots that you know he’d wear with a proud smile on his face. 

If he could see you now…you’d never hear the end of it. 

Y/n: Meh. 

He must have been sitting there waiting for your reply, the three little dots popping up almost instantly after you hit send. 

Steve: Meh???? 

Steve: It took you 10 minutes to reply with meh??

Steve: Liar. 

A sick satisfaction coursed through you and you felt a small sense of victory reading his replies. If you didn’t know any better you’d say Steve was a little upset at your lack of reaction. 

Y/n: It took me 10 minutes because I wasn’t waiting by my phone for your reply. And I’m not a liar, just not overly impressed. 

You were a liar. A huge lying liar who was only able to do this over text because if he was in front of you’d have been stumbling over your words and blushing like an idiot. 

And that little victory you had lasted all of 2 minutes because when your phone started ringing, that ball of dread from forever ago came barreling back into you harder and faster than before. 

Pressing accept you held the phone up to your ear and tried to get your breathing under control. You were gonna blow your cover quickly if you didn’t. 

“H-hello?” 

“Not impressed, hm?” There was an edge to his voice, one you didn’t recognize but it had a sense of sternness, of authority that had your hands twitching in your lap. 

“Nope. Sorry.” The words practically squeaked out of you, the less you said the better when it came to Steve. If you spoke too much he’d be able to know what you were thinking, he probably already did. You swore he had some magical powers or something. 

“Really? And you’re sure? I only ask because earlier just looking at my arms had you panting like a dog at my feet.” 

Your face burned with humiliation and you cursed yourself for the way it turned you on. Fuck. Any control you had was quickly unraveling and falling apart in front of you. 

“Steve, I—”

“Because when it took you so long to reply, you know what I thought? I thought you’d slipped your hand into your panties like some perv. That was my theory, but I can admit it when I’m wrong.” 

“I-I wasn’t! I’m not I just—”

“But you thought about it, didn’t you?” 

And well of course you had. How could you not when he looked like he did and when you could practically hear him in your ear whispering filthy, teasing things. 

You pictured him now, standing at the foot of your bed with his shirt off and his hands on his hips. How he’d shake his head at you, scolding you like a teacher scolding their student for not doing their homework. You can hear the smirk in his voice as he riles you up and it leaves you reeling. 

“I, well I—”

“Just a yes or no, doll. Did you think about it?” 

“Yes.” It comes out in a whisper, hanging in the air and you should want to take it back, to tell him no and hang up but you don’t. You sit there and bask in it, the embarrassment, the arousal. You sit and wait for him to give you something—like a dog waiting for a treat. 

“That’s what I thought. Now that we’ve got that settled, I’m beat! You’ve kept me up far past my bedtime. Goodnight, perv. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 

Before you can get a word out, a plea or a curse or anything he’s hanging up the phone and leaving you with your mouth hanging open and an ache so intense it makes your head spin. 

Idiot. Asshole. Jerk. Hot. Hot. Hot. 

He’s left you speechless, sitting there still on your bed with your phone in your hand and your mind running a thousand miles a minute. You’re aching and wet, embarrassingly wet, and you feel a need for him so deep in your bones it’s making you feel insane. 

A knock on your front door startles you, it’s harsh and quick and your pulse spikes immediately. Holding your phone in your hand you make your way through the living room, a seed of worry nestled in your stomach because who would be here knocking on your door at almost 3 am. 

Who besides Steve, of course. 

Just as you’re moving close to look through the peephole, he calls your name from the other side of the door. Excitement pools low in your belly, hairs on your arm standing tall at the promise of him just inches away. Pulling open the door you’re met with the same Steve you’d left just a short time ago, but now he’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts that hang low on his hips and his hair is still damp from the shower you’re sure he’s taken. A pink t-shirt is stretched over his broad shoulders and there’s a simple silver chain hanging around his neck. 

How does he always look this good? You don’t say anything, opting to step to the side and allow him through and he steps in wordlessly, giving your arm a squeeze when he passes by. 

Closing the door behind him, you watch as he makes his way to your room and you stand there dumbfounded, wondering what the fuck is going on and why he hasn’t said a word to you after showing up at your door at 3 am. 

Following him is a simple choice, one that leads you to your room to see Steve sitting on the edge of your bed with his legs spread wide, hands behind him flat on the comforter while he leans back the slightest bit. He’s stunning and it has you fighting the urge to sing to your knees on the carpet in front of him. 

It feels like a staring contest between the two of you. But instead of looking in your eyes, Steve is letting his gaze run over your body. You’re in an oversize shirt that reaches about mid thigh, nothing underneath but a pair of panties that Steve ruined hours ago. 

He finally meets your eyes, a small smile tugging up at the corners of his mouth that makes you feel jittery. “W-what are you doing here?” You can’t help but to stumble over your words when he’s looking at you like that. Like he could take a bite out of you. 

“What do you think?” 

“Missed me already, Harrington?” 

“Always.” Some of the smugness he carries with him has melted away with the admission and it makes your heart swell in your chest. The thought of him missing you provides a surge of warmth through your body. 

“I missed you too,” Your voice is timid, his stare making you feel exposed to him, “but I thought you were going to bed.” 

“Well that was my plan, but I couldn’t fall asleep knowing you were over here making a mess because of me and not come help clean it up.” 

Your toes curl into the carpet below you and you hope it will be able to ground you a little when you feel so…you don’t even know what you feel. Your stomach is twisting and your palms are sweaty and you can feel your heartbeat in your ears. 

One of his hands lifts to motion you forward and you do so without hesitation, your feet carrying you to him instantly. When you get close enough you go to get on your knees instinctively and he stops you with a small, proud smile. “No, no, I’m here to take care of you, baby.” And while the notion fills you with excitement, you can’t help but feel a little upset that you won’t get to put your mouth on him. 

And of course this just makes him smile even bigger, eyes bright as he takes in your frown and can’t help but shake his head at you. 

“Before we do anything I just…I want you to know I care about you, yeah? This isn’t some one night thing for me. I want everyday with you, everyday that you’ll give me.” 

“I care about you too, Steve. I think that was obvious when I scrubbed all the paint off that plate after I saw that text on your phone,” He huffs a small laugh at you, hands settled on your hips, “You’ve become such an important part of my life and I—I like you a lot, even when you’re mean to me.” 

He scoffs like the idea is foreign, playful glint in his eye the whole time and it drives you crazy. He has that look, the one that tells you he’s about to say something that will either make you hit him or drop back down to your knees. 

“Come give daddy a kiss then.” 

It’s the former, hand coming up to smack at his chest hard despite the way the name makes your stomach clench and your spine tingle. He just laughs, loud and steady, pulling you down onto his lap and smashing his lips against yours. 

His lips are just as soft as you’d dreamed about, full and slick with spit and you feel yourself pulse when he smiles into the kiss. His nose bumps with yours, his hands sliding from your waist to your hair and letting his fingers tug and pull while you push closer to him. 

“Fuck—you taste so good.” You don’t even realize the words come from you until you feel Steve groan against you, tongue sweeping across your bottom lip as if to taste you too. 

When you finally have to pull back for air, your forehead is pressed against his and you both try and catch your breath. He looks like a dream, mouth shiny and swollen, eyes glazed over as he takes you in. He tastes sweet, the kind of taste you crave at the end of the day or when you need a pick me up. Or just because. 

He’s shifted back a little so you’re not hanging off him and the edge of the bed, your thighs wrapped around his hips and your chests almost touching from how close you are. He’s tugging at the ends of your shirt, trying to pull it off but it’s trapped between your thighs and his. You lean up just enough for him to pull it free, tugging it over your head with ease. 

What you’ve managed to forget in the heat of the moment, what Steve doesn’t know but is quick to find out is the little secret no one but Robin knows about—and she only knows because you needed moral support. 

“Oh holy fuck,” You’ve never seen his eyes so wide and his mouth is dropped open so big it’s almost kind of scary. Somehow you’d forgotten your nipples were pierced, maybe it was from Steve kissing you stupid, you’re not sure. But he’s looking at your tits now like he’s got gold in front of him. 

Your mouth opens to tease him but before you can speak he’s moving his hand to cover your mouth, eyes never leaving your boobs and you have to laugh against him. 

“Don’t—you can’t say a thing right now or I’ll cum in my pants.” He sounds so serious, so pained that you whine against his hand all greedy and impatient. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, doll. Think I could cum from just lookin’ at em for too long.” 

You nod eagerly against his hand, the idea of that turning you on even more than you thought possible. He finally removes his hand but only because he can’t hold out on touching you any longer. His palms come up to cup your breasts, thumbs running over your nipples and you sigh in relief at the feeling of his touch. He uses two fingers to tug gently at the little silver barbell that runs through them, watching your face for your reaction and you don’t disappoint. Your mouth falls open, a small moan slipping out and your hands grip his shoulders tight. 

“Fuck me. God you’re perfect, so pretty and sweet for me. Shit, m’losing my goddamn mind here, baby.” Half his words are almost slurred, attention moving between your tits and your face as he tugs and thumbs at your nipples. The furrow in his brow makes him look genuinely concerned and you throb at the thought of him being so mesmerized by you. 

He’s so occupied with your pretty tits in his face he doesn’t notice when you slide back a little, a few inches of space between you now. You’ve been soaked and aching for far too long and you think if he doesn’t touch you in the next few seconds you might cry. 

You move one of your hands to grab his, tugging it from your nipple and sliding it down between you to press against the front of your panties. They’re messy, your thighs sticky and you hope he understands your not so subtle hint. 

He does, cursing at the feel of how wet and hot you are even through the thin layer separating him from you. “Poor thing, didn’t even know someone could be this messy.” Your hips shift, desperately trying to get his fingers to catch on your clit. “Who made you this desperate, huh? Was it that prick from the bar?” 

You’re shaking your head but it’s not enough for him, hand moving away and you gasp, pulling it back and giving him what he wants. “You. It’s you—you did this to me.” 

Instead of saying anything he dips his fingers past the band of your panties, both of you groaning at the contact. He circles your clit twice, thighs twitching around him before he’s dipping down to your sopping hole, teasing his finger there before swiping through your slit to collect some of the slick that’s there. 

You want to whine when he pulls his hand out but it fades away at the sight of his glistening fingers, how he studies them for a minute before slipping them into his mouth and humming in content. 

“Way better than mint chocolate chip.” 

Next thing you know he’s slipping his hand back between you, the imprint of his knuckles against your panties hot enough to make you drool down his chest. 

Thumb pressed to your clit he moves in slow circles, just enough pressure to make you need more, pressing down onto his hand and trying to swivel your hips. “Want you, Steve. Need you.” 

“I know baby, gotta stretch you out first.” At the same time he’s speaking he’s slipping his middle finger inside of you with no resistance and it’s not enough. It’s like he has a connection to your mind, slipping another finger in immediately and you feel that ache start to untangle itself the slightest bit. 

With two of his much larger fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit, you already feel the signs of an orgasm building deep in your belly. You feel that burn all over, grinding down onto him in search of that pressure that’ll make your eyes roll back. It’s when he curls his fingers that you lurch forward, face nuzzling his neck as he hits that spot inside of you that makes your vision blur. 

“S-steve..” You’re almost there already, walls clamping down on his fingers and holding them inside while he speeds up on your clit. There’s a twitch in your thighs that he noticed, hushed praises in your ear when that string begins to fray, threatening to snap in seconds. 

And then it stops. 

There’s no more curling his fingers and his thumb is still on your clit. You pull back just enough to curse at him, his hand wet and sticky with evidence of just how much you were enjoying that. But when you see his face you know you’re fucked. He’s got that shine in his eyes that screams trouble, a devious little smirk on his lips as he watches the frustration build behind your eyes. 

“Something to say, sweetheart?” He’s taunting you, daring you to curse at him—but you don’t. You can’t fathom the idea of him taking this all away so you remain quiet, shaking your head at him and hoping your obedience will pay off soon. He nods at you as if to say “that’s what I thought”, hand coming up to tuck your face back into the crook of his neck as he starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you again. 

You’re glad he can’t see the way your cheeks turn bright red because you can hear how wet you are, the small little noise it makes every time he drives his fingers back into has you pressing further into him. He has goosebumps on skin from the feel of your hot breath against his throat from where you’re practically panting, little open mouthed kisses left for as far as you can reach. 

It doesn’t take long before that feeling is building back up, stronger than before and you curse against his skin. “Snug little cunt, greedy for it, isn’t she?” You think you chant a whispered “yes” into him but you can’t be sure, overwhelmed by the tight, quick circles he’s rubbing on your swollen clit and the wave of pleasure you feel beginning to wash over you. 

And then it stops again. 

This time you can’t help the whine that slips out, hands fisting his t-shirt as you writhe in his lap. He chuckles in your ear, smooth and teasing and it makes you mortified when you feel yourself drip down his hand at his meanness. 

“You can handle one more time, yeah? Then I’ll give you my cock.” The promise of finally being full of him is enough to push down your frustrations, eagerness and excitement taking over. He lets you get away with a nod, picking up a faster pace than before and you think it’s not for you, but that his patience is wearing thin. 

He’s rubbing harshly against that sponges spot inside of you with every pass of his fingers, your mouth dropped open with no sound coming out as you try and hold off. It’s too much, too intense and you feel lightheaded at how every nerve in your body is lit up and buzzing.

But apparently he knows your body better than you do, stopping just seconds before you begin to tip over and your shoulders sag in relief and annoyance at the same time. 

“Please, please.” They’re quiet little pleas that he can't even hear but can feel against his skin and he coos at you. It’s condescending and should piss you off but instead has you nudging your nose against his for comfort. 

“Told ya I’d give you my cock, honey. Lay down and let me see you.” You move to lay back, watching him stand over you and strip his shirt and shorts off. He’d forgone underwear and you thank god for that. The sight of his cock, hard and shiny with precum as your thighs falling open for him automatically. He notices this, of course he does. He’s thick and you’re suddenly very grateful for the prep he just did, you don’t think he’d fit otherwise. 

When he leans down to pull a condom from the back pocket of his shorts—presumptuous cocky bastard—you feel the urge to stop him but refrain. You’re already crossing all these invisible lines, you need to have at least some self control. Even though you’re desperate to feel him bare. You’re captivated by him, watching him roll the condom on and clenching around nothing as he hisses through his teeth at the contact. 

Seeing him for the first time, how hard and flushed he is makes you regret even more not getting your mouth on him. Next time, you promise yourself. You’d thought you’d be nervous for this, but you think you’re too overwhelmed with a need for him that there’s no room left to be nervous or anxious. 

Climbing on the bed he moves between your open legs, hands on either side of your head as he holds himself up over you. His cock is lying against you, head touching your clit and it’s making it impossible to lie still. “You still want this?” His face is serious, and you want to squish his cheeks at his consideration for you despite his hard cock pressing against you. 

“Please, Steve. I want this—I need you.” It’s all the confirmation he needs, reaching one hand between you to take his cock, running it through your slit and groaning at the way you twitch below him. After bumping it against your clit he moves down to your entrance, pushing in the slightest bit and squeezing his eyes shut at the feel of you clenching down on him. 

The burn of him pushing forward stings, but it’s a welcome pain that has you gripping the sheets below you, looking for something to steady you when you feel like you’ll float away. “Keep going, please keep going.” You’re pleading below him, mouth dropping open when he pushes in. He has to pause when he’s in all the way, his patch of public hair at the base of his cock catching at your clit and you gasp. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” His forehead is pressed against your cheek, his teeth scraping against the edge of your jaw as he tried to collect himself. “I don’t—shit I don’t know how—goddamn baby, never felt anything this good before in my life.” 

He throbs inside of you when you whine, craning your neck up just an inch to take the silver chain dangling above you between your teeth. “Fuckin’ hell, gonna kill me.” You lift your hips off the bed, urging him to move and moan around the chain when he slips deeper inside of you. He pulls himself up to look at you, hair falling around your head like an angel with blotchy cheeks and fucked out eyes. 

Thrusting forward, the tip of his cock nudges against that spot inside of you and you clench around him so hard his arms almost give out above you. This has been building up for weeks and with the way he edged you earlier, you won’t last long. He knows as much, thrusting into you and using one hand to rub sloppy circles on your clit. 

“Feel like I’m having deja vu, having you pressed against me like this, yeah?” It was just hours ago you were on the train, a few more layers between you but pressed up against him all the same. 

The chain pops from your mouth when he moves your hands to lay beside your head, lacing your fingers together as he stretches over you. Your piercings press against his chest just right and it has your tummy tightening, the added friction enough to have your head spinning. 

He looks mouthwatering above you, hair out of place and falling over his forehead. His cheeks are flushed and he’s holding his bottom lip between his teeth as he moves between watching your face and the way your tits bounce with every thrust of his cock. There’s little drops of sweat running down his sculpted nose and slipping onto your chest, your cute little gasps hitting his ears. 

You know you’re done for when he leans down, lips pressed to your ear and his harsh breath tickling your skin. 

“Takin’ your daddy’s cock so well, aren’t you, doll?” 

Eyes screwed shut you claw at his shoulders, his name leaving your lips in a curse and you both can see the way the nickname makes your face flush a shade darker of red, eyes turning dark and fingers digging into him. “Dirty girl, acting like you don’t like it when I can feel you making a mess of me, this pretty little pussy hugging me tight when I call myself daddy.” 

“Fu-fuck, Steve. Gonna cum—m’gonna cum.” Your words are hushed and quick in his air, rope beginning to snap and if he stops right now you might actually kill him. 

“Go ahead, soak my cock, pretty girl. Show me who I belong to, yeah?” It’s all it takes, rope snapping and sparks shooting down to your toes as you tug at his hair, your thighs tight as your orgasm crashes through you. It feels like it goes on forever, your body taught and ears buzzing and you can barely make out the faint curses coming from above you. 

He belongs to you, and he will as long as he’ll have you.

You feel yourself start to come back down, your chin pinched in between Steve’s fingers and he’s looking at you like he’s seeing the first snowfall of the year. His thrusts are getting sloppy, hips grinding into yours and his breaths uneven and sharp. “Where…where do you want it baby?” 

Not sure that you can make coherent sentences right now, you reach up to cup your breasts, Steve’s eyes widening before the most pitiful cry leaves his lips. He thrusts into you one, two, three more times and each one has you gasping below him as aftershocks of your orgasm zing through you. 

He pulls out quickly, pulling off the condom with a sharp inhale and you think he looks good like this, all desperate and pathetic for you like you always are for him. You urge him forward, fingers digging into his hips and trying to pull him up your body. He moves easily, coming up so he’s barely resting any weight on your belly, knees on either side of your chest. 

You cup your breasts, thumbs running over your nipples and pushing them together below him. He’s looking at you from under his lashes, eyes hooded and lips parted in a silent gasp. It only takes two quick strokes before what’s been building at the base of his spine snaps and he’s cursing above you, ropes of white covering your chest and neck and catching the piercings too. 

“Perfect, you’re so perfect—shit.” He works himself through it slowly, his cock twitching and his fingers covered in cum from where it’s dribbled over his fist. He’s staring down at you with an intensity that makes you blush, eyes taking in every inch of you that’s marked with him. 

“Look like a fuckin’ dream with these pretty tits covered in my cum. Fuck, doll, I’m gonna think about this for the rest of my life.” 

All you can do is smile stupidly below him, your heart bursting and your body thoroughly exhausted. He leans down and presses a quick peck to your cheek before he’s shifting off the bed, running to the bathroom and washing off his hand before he comes back with a warm rag, sitting beside you so he can clean you up. His hand hovers over you and you roll your eyes at the little pout he’s wearing as he looks at your boobs. 

“Are you seriously pouting over cleaning off my boobs right now?” 

“Who wouldn’t be? They look so pretty like this.” 

You reach for the rag with a giggle to do it yourself but he pulls his hand back, shaking his head at you and begrudgingly wiping his cum off your chest with a little sigh that’s a little endearing. 

Once you're cleaned up and the condom is in the trash he helps you up so he can pull back the comforter, both of you snuggling in under the covers—naked at his request. His chest is pressed to your back, his heartbeat felt against your skin and it makes you smile into your pillow. 

His skin is warm against yours, fingers laced beside your head and you lift your chin to place quick kisses against his knuckles. 

“Now that’s the kind of reward I could get used to.” 

“Steve!”

————-

It’s the next day and there’s a soreness between your thighs that has you smiling to yourself while you get ready. You remember this morning, how you woke up to the sight of honey brown hair nestled between your thighs, coaxing you out of your sleep with his tongue on your clit. 

The best kind of pain, where you’ll feel him for days when you walk or when you sit down. It brings a blush to your skin and memories you’ll think about forever to your mind. 

He left shortly after, both of you needing to be away from each other so you could actually get ready for the lunch you had planned with Robin and Eddie this afternoon. 

A feeling of nervousness settles within you as you get ready for this lunch. It’s not that you want to keep this from Rob and Eddie, but you’re not what you’d even tell them! These nerves were much more about you and Steve then they were your friends. 

Would you tell them you’re dating? That you like each other? That you’re just fucking around? This is what made you anxious, what had your hands twisting in your lap on the train and had you so distracted you stumbled right into Eddie outside of the restaurant. 

“Woah! Caught ya.” He steadies you, smiling down into your worried eyes and a little bit of that anxiety seeps out of you. This is your friend, one of your best friends! Who cares what’s going on, maybe he’ll have some insight that you can’t see for yourself. 

Eddie leads you into the place, a booth in the back already holding Robin and Steve. They’re both on one side of it and you can see from here that Steve’s unhappy about not getting to sit by you. 

You slide in so you’re closest to the wall, legs knocking with Steve’s under the table and the small amount of contact soothes some of the turmoil happening inside of you. 

Everything is going good, things feel normal—besides the subtle winks Steve sends your way to get you blushing—and you’re not even worried anymore. The table in front of you is filled with food, everyone reaching over and grabbing whatever sounds good. Arms are crossed over each other and hands get tangled when you reach for fries or mozzarella sticks or an onion ring. 

Robin is going on about something, you’re not sure what you’ve kind of zoned out a little if you’re being honest, when you feel Steve staring at you. You look up to his brows furrowed, confusion laced in his features and you quirk your brow at him, wondering what has him looking at you like that. 

It’s when Eddie speaks up beside you, cutting Robin off and bringing everyone’s attention to him that it makes sense, “Harrington, I appreciate the love but can you stop trying to play footsies with me under the table?” 

Steve’s face flames and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up and out of your mouth, hands coming up to try and smother how loud it is. But Steve doesn’t recover fast enough, eyes darting to yours sheepishly and that’s when it clicks for Eddie. 

“Oh. My. God.” 

Three sets of eyes fly to Eddie. Robin is confused. You and Steve are looking at Eddie as he looks between the two of you, mouth dropped open in shock and you curse yourself for the storm that’s coming. 

“What?” It’s Robin that speaks first, eyes darting between the three of you quickly. You and Steve keep quiet, trying not to give yourselves away but it’s no use. “Oh my god.” There’s Eddie again, sinister smirk on his lips as he takes his time taking in your pink cheeks and the way Steve won’t make eye contact with him. 

“Oh for the love of god! Someone tell me what’s going on. I am not a mind reader.” 

“Robin, you won’t believe it. These two finally fucked.” A chorus of noises fill your small corner of the restaurant, booth creaking underneath you from where Eddie is practically bouncing in his seat. Robin squeals, hands going to grip Steve’s arms. Steve sighs, letting Robin tug him around like a rag doll in a fit of her excitement. And you gasp, smacking Eddie in the chest the way you do to Steve all the time. 

But neither of you deny it and that alone sends waves of relief through you. Not that you think Steve would, especially with the way he’s gotten over his bit of embarrassment, adorning his signature smirk and a look of pride as the people around him freak out. 

You don’t know how bad Steve wants to show you off, tell the world and scream it from the rooftops how lucky he is to even get to be around you. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, sweet and kind but not afraid to challenge him and call him out for his bullshit. God, he’s obsessed with you. 

Eddie’s rubbing at his chest where you hit him, pouting like a child as if it actually hurt. You hope it did. “Damn, she’s got some force behind those hits,” He looks from you to Steve, eyes lighting up and you know what’s coming before he even opens his mouth, “but you love it, don’t ya big boy?” 

Your head falls forward to rest in your palm, eyes closed as you try and pretend you're anywhere but here. You think you hear Robin gag from across the table and it forces a laugh out of you. Eyes lifting to meet Steve’s, his teeth are showing and he’s shaking his head like he knows a secret no one else does. His words fill the space around you and make your skin heat under his stare. 

“Oh you have no idea.”  ————————————————————————

(save me steve harrington in a tank top)

@aheadfullofsteverogers i remembered and hope you enjoy 💌

[blessyouhawkeye]

the thing about steve harrington is that he's one of the most compelling characters of all time. he starts the show an extremely popular jock and now he's got two friends: a girl he had a crush on that turned out to be a lesbian and a fourteen year old. the only fight he's ever won in his life was against a soviet spy. he keeps a bat full of nails in his car. he barely graduated high school. he beat up a racist. he's terrible at flirting. he has daddy issues. he spends an entire season wearing a little sailor outfit, hat included. and he's even bisexual

[stevie-petey]

but don't you remember? (august, honey, you were mine)

﹂ season four of "come home"

it's senior year and everything has changed. though steve harrington is now your boyfriend, not all of the change has been good. jonathan is gone, dustin is pulling away, the party is divided, and max's sunken eyes remind you of her brother's. all the change threatens to suffocate you. then one phone call, multiple dead bodies, and a song from your past changes everything you thought you once knew. time has never been your friend, especially when it reopens old wounds. (which only complicates things between you and steve). (and the upside down makes everything worse). (as usual).

episode one - the hellfire club: el writes to you as if youre her husband away at war, you debate the intricate nature of liking boobies with robin and steve, lucas is your beloved while eddie munson is your sworn enemy, steve accidentally exposes your (horribly hidden) daddy issues, dustin is an angsty teen, and jonathan really loves to drop emotional bombshells on you. can you believe this all happens in one day ? lol cheers to senior year !

episode two - vecnas curse: you and billy play marco polo, max interrupts a saturday morning breakfast at the henderson household, robin crushes steves dream of becoming a 1950s housewife, reefer rick has an odd taste in movies, boathouses are creepy in the dark, and eddie munson likes it when you pull his hair.

episode three - the monster and the superhero: you and steve can never have a normal conversation, dustin threatens nasa, eddie sadly eats his cereal because youre mean to him, youre once again nancys biggest fan, dustin and steve have an awkward heart to heart, and you and max become felons together and trauma bond (again) !

episode four - dear billy: steve almost hits lucas with a lamp, you try to trick your boyfriend into a gloomy arrangement, steve and nancy have a Talk, robin suddenly becomes an academic weapon, and max threatens legal action, gets really into hallmark cards, and levitating. all in that order.

episode five - the nina project: you and dustin steal pancakes to spite ted wheeler, steve just wants one morning of peace, nancy takes you to a haunted house, cobwebs are surprisingly intimate to remove from someone, and vecna decides to play flashlight tag with everyone. hes so sweet :)

episode six - the dive: dustin rejects the pity pringles you offer, eddie is straight up not having a good time, nancy does some investigative journalism about you and steve (gossips with robin), and steve suddenly decides he wants to take up scuba diving. for some reason. but hey ! title drop time !

episode seven - the massacre at hawkins lab: bats are really fucking annoying to fight, you always somehow end up critically injured, nancy carries the group on her back as always, eddie gives steve relationship advice (embarassing, tbh), interdimensional bike riding is lowkey fun, and you take a trip down memory lane.

⌑ last updated: 11/3/24

⌑ season four title based on this song x

⌑ blurbs set within "come home" can be found here x

⌑ “come home” season masterlist

*note: this is a part of my stranger things rewrite, “come home”, and other seasons can be found linked above :)

[madelynraemunson]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 (𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲) 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞 ✨ — a steve harrington one shot fic

modern!sperm donor!steve x modern!pregnant!fem!reader

Summary: It’s hard to find ‘forever’ in a world that glorifies hook-up culture. After multiple failed relationships, you start to believe that your dream of having a family someday will only be just that — a DREAM. That is until you stumble across The Baby Gate Foundation, a family planning organization that helps qualifying Strangers start families with one another.

disclaimers — fluff overload, strangers to friends to lovers, some angst, reader goes by “Honey”,

NSFW — very brief smut, p in v sex (unprotected), breeding kink, cream pie, soft!dom steve

word count — 6.0k words

“So… what’s your favorite color?”

It’s the most aggravating question to ask when wading in the Dating Pool — and unfortunately the most frequent. But you figure at least asking about Steve Harrington’s favorite color is a good ‘precursor question’ when trying to get to know him. After all, you are the one carrying his child.

“Cerulean,” the handsome stranger from across the table replies.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a type of blue.”

“You could’ve just said blue.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

You issue him a touché type nod as you gently place your folded hands over your growing bump…a bump that was a byproduct of an ordeal that he wasn’t even present to participate in.

Before you knew him as Steve Harrington, he was just Stranger #021 whose sperm donation gave you the gift of life. The gift of having a little one of your own.

And it was about time you started a family. It has been a dream of yours — once you bagged your dream job and got to travel the world — to get married and have kids. But apparently the person you spent 6 years with did not share that dream, despite having told you he did in the beginning stages of your partnership.

Are you crazy? How dare you think your ex wanted a family after he explicitly told you he wanted you to marry him and have his kids? Silly lady. You actually thought he meant what he said.

And Steve Harrington’s baby daddy application seemed impossible to resist. The Baby Gate Foundation disclosed to you that Stranger #021 has no physical ailments, was a star athlete in high school, isn’t a carrier for any chronic illnesses, and passed a mental health and drug clearance.

Your baby is very likely to come out healthy and, now that you’ve gotten a good general idea of the guy, will hopefully inherit Steve’s luscious chestnut brown hair, his radiant smile, sparkling eyes, and kind nature. A healthy baby. A healthy family. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.

“Your stomach feeling okay?” Steve inquires.

“Yeah,” you smile. “I just like touching it sometimes. It still doesn’t feel real.”

When selected, Steve jumped for joy. And you bet he started doing cartwheels when your pregnancy test came out positive. My dick still works! he remembers saying.

Having been a foster parent to many teenagers in the past, Steve also felt ready to have a kid of his own. But then his first long term girlfriend of three years cheated on him, and then his next long term girlfriend left him when she realized a family with him was not what she wanted. Steve was practically on the same boat as you. And the stars aligned…

“So I was thinking…when you’re in what’s considered a ‘safe’ point in your pregnancy, say second trimester… we can do cute pregnancy announcements,” Steve suggests.

Your eyes glimmer at the thought.

“As coparents of course!” Steve makes sure to add. “A-and then we can have a gender reveal. We can choose the theme and ideas for it later but I’m just thinking of an intimate cake cutting thing….pink frosting, obviously for girl…”

“And cerulean for boy,” you smirk at him, finishing his thought.

He chuckles at your comment. “Yes, cerulean for boy.”

You two then begin to brainstorm the minor details. Signing up for parenting classes. Check-up appointments. Your baby registry. Ironing out the details so that you both can relish in the pregnancy as much as possible.

When you’re done, Steve then pays for your lunch and you two go separate ways. But not before a long, grateful hug.

“Thank you,” you whisper into his ear. “You’ve made my dream come true.”

“I am just as indebted,” Steve insists, giving your back a loving rub. “I’ve always wanted to be a father.”

You decide to not let go until Steve breaks the hug. But little did you know that was Steve’s plan too. So you both stand there, in the middle of the mall food court swaying back and forth, waiting patiently for the other to let go because to be honest, you never know what a simple ‘I see you’ hug can do for somebody.

Finally, Steve pulls away.

“Listen, uh, Honey,” he says. “I hope this doesn’t sound weird because technically we don’t really know each other…but I already care about you so deeply. You’re the mother of my child. I want to be as involved as possible.”

“I care about you too Steve,” you beam at him. “And I feel like our healing journeys are coming to an end. I’m so excited to come together with another person who has the same goals in life.”

And that is all that’s said during that exchange. You hope that throughout your pregnancy, you and Steve can have more coparent dates to really get to know each other. You love that he feels safe and trustworthy, willing to put his all into the child that he, and many many medical experts helped you create. And you hope that as your baby grows up, you will find a lifelong partner like Steve someday.

“So how’d it go?”

You’re over at your best friend, Eddie’s apartment talking to him about your day. Eddie has been your best friend since middle school, bearing witness to every wonderful milestone — and tragedy — that has plagued your life ever since. Your decision to become a mother on your own, and coparenting with a stranger is no exception.

“I like him!” you exclaim. “He’s very sweet.”

“Do you trust him as your Baby Daddy?”

“If I didn’t, it’d be a little too late for that I’m afraid.”

Eddie would’ve been more than happy to be your donor, and without a doubt, you’d trust him in being fully present in the child’s life. However Eddie comes from a home with a turbulent family dynamic, and unfortunately is a carrier of the addiction gene along with many other illnesses. Eddie didn’t want to risk doing that to you or your family. So it works out that he and his boyfriend Henry are the ‘Fun Uncles’ or as he calls them “Funcles” instead, and Steve is the dad.

“But yeah I like Steve,” you circle back. “He’s funny, sweet, looks like he takes care of himself. Even paid for my food. Oh, and as a bonus, he uses big words.”

Eddie snorts as he strides over to the fridge. “He uses big words.”

“Yeah, like cerulean.”

Your bestie cocks an eyebrow and smirks at you. “What’s that?”

“It’s a type of blue,” you smirk back at him.

He releases a theatrical gasp. “Ground-breaking.”

Your banter is cut short when Eddie’s partner Henry walks through the door.

“Hello, hello.”

“Hey, Henry!”

You watch as the quiet, tall blonde dressed in dark-denim-tailored-to-fit struts in with a grocery bag, closing the door behind him with his foot.

“Hi, darlings.”

“Funcle Number Two,” Eddie greets his partner.

“I thought I was Number One.”

“You are,” Eddie shrugs. “In my heart. If you have an issue with your title and rank, I’d talk it up with Honey.”

“You can be Number One,” you grant him permission, eliciting a betrayed gasp from Eddie.

“Thank you, Honey,” Henry smirks, shooting a sassy look at Eddie.

Eddie issues a sour variation of that smirk to Henry, only to be met with a rough nudge to the ribcage. The two black cats then assemble to unload the groceries, all while focusing their attention back to you, their appointed ‘golden retriever’ of the bunch.

“Speaking of titles,” Henry adds. “How was your meeting with Daddy Steve?”

“It was wonderful,” you respond. “Was just telling Eddie how much I like him.”

Henry grimaces, understandably so. Your taste and judgment in men throughout the years have been nothing short of concerning. But because you didn’t willingly seek Steve out on a shady online dating app, at a dive bar at 2 AM, or on the dance floor of a sweaty small town nightclub, you figured you were in the clear.

“We’re gonna make it work no matter what,” you insist to your seemingly doubtful friends. “Even if there are discrepancies, we agreed it’s our kid before anything. And I’m ready. I told you guys myself that if I don't meet the love of my life by the time I'm 29, I'm having a baby by myself."

Aside from the two "Funcles", you have been the only consistent person in your life. And in this day and age, two people don't need to 'be together' to bring life into this world. And even if they are together, it’s not a happy home sometimes.

All that matters in this arrangement is that both of Baby Harrington’s parents are involved. That was Steve's promise to you.

Let's just hope he keeps it.

“That’s the head… and those…are your baby’s feet.”

You and Steve watch the monitor in awe as the sonographer scans your belly. You are now 20 weeks along, and doing a routine ultrasound check up.

First trimester was a nightmare. Constant nausea and vomiting so you’re not even sure that you’re stomaching those pre-natals, intense mood swings, and breast tenderness so bad you essentially begged Steve to just chop your tits off.

Regardless, you are healthy, and the baby is healthy. And now your camera roll is filled with pictures and videos of every frame of every ultrasound you get done, as well as audio recordings of Baby Harrington’s heartbeat. You and Steve even share your content amongst each other, just in case the other missed something that the other captured. It’s a wholesome exchange, really.

“Baby’s kicking a lot. Almost looks like they’re swimming in place,” the tech comments.

“I did swim and water polo in high school, could be why,” Steve explains.

You bat your eyes in adoration at your friend. He gives you a warm look back.

“Just like Daddy,” you say. And then Steve rests his palm atop your hand.

For the first time in a long time, everything feels complete.

“So, would you like to know the gender?” the sonographer inquires.

Immediately you and Steve bombard her with anxious-filled “No no no no”s. You decided to go with the cake gender reveal idea, and Henry and Eddie were in charge of having it made.

“We’d like for it to be a surprise,” Steve smiles. “But we sure would like an envelope with the gender in it. Honey’s gonna give it to her friends to give the baker.”

“Sounds like a plan to me!” the tech grins widely. “I will have it printed out for you shortly.”

She wipes your belly down so that there is no more ultrasound jelly on your stomach before leaving. Meanwhile, you and Steve are absolutely giddy. You are now halfway through your pregnancy and couldn’t wait to hold Baby Harrington in your arms.

But as exciting as everything is, it is also anxiety-inducing. No parenting book could ever prepare you for bringing a kid into the world. There was so much more that needed to be done. So much to do. And it seems like there was so very little time to do it.

Steve has another question for you. “When does the baby usually wake you up?”

“Baby’s a night owl, strangely,” you reply. “I’ll feel some moving and stuff at night.”

Steve sighs and shakes his head in thought.

“Man, I hope kid doesn’t wake you up at night too much when they’re born. That’d be god awful.”

“I know, I’ve been thinking of that too,” you groan. “And all the diaper changes I’ll probably have to do before putting them back to sleep. Ugh, I don’t even wanna think about diapers.”

You didn’t want to think about post-partum shit. So far, you’ve only been focused on pregnancy shit, and that shit is already overwhelming. While you seem well-equipped for pregnancy itself, the thought of actually being a fully-functioning parenting unit alongside Steve brings on a new set of fear.

Suddenly you and Steve look up at each other.

“Oh shit!” you shriek. “A crib! We need a crib! A stroller.”

“And a whole nursery,” he gulps. “And a baby monitor… A swaddle! A carrier!”

———

You and Steve are moved in together by the end of the month. Platonically, of course. With a capital P.

You both figured that raising the baby under one roof would be the healthiest way to approach your parenting situation. Both of you already get along really well and have similar communication styles. You two also have the same expectations from each other. And not every child is blessed with two parents living together in a happy home. It’s a luxury you both refused to take for granted.

So eventually the non-traditional-housewarming-slash-baby-shower-party rolls around, in efforts to help prepare for Baby Harrington’s arrival. It ends up being a huge success. Additionally, the party gave everyone a chance to mingle with one another, your friends meeting Steve’s friends and jokingly calling each other "in-laws". Robin and Eddie immediately grow very fond of each other, having deemed each other best friends after their third time meeting.

“How long do you give it?” Robin asks Eddie as they watch you and Steve work together to build the crib. “You know till they…”

They observe as you and Steve bicker back and forth about whether or not a section of the crib was installed the wrong way. You argue that it was, and Steve, still firm in his masculinity that he felt like was slowly chipping away (he can’t help it sometimes) insisted that it wasn’t.

“I know how to read, Honey. And besides, if it’s the wrong part, how did I screw it on perfectly?”

“I don’t know, Bob the Builder,” you fire back at him. “You didn’t have to 'screw it on perfectly' to get me pregnant.”

“Til that baby is born,” Eddie estimates.

Eddie chuckles at this. He’s been with Henry for many years, but you two have beat him at the argue-like-a-married couple thing. Slyly, he sips his beer.

“…The very latest.”

“Steve, I’m hungry. Wanna go to Rally’s?”

The cravings have officially kicked in (finally). But of course, it’s at the least convenient of times.

“Woman, it is 1 in the morning...”

“Yes, and I want Rally’s.”

You give Steve a light thunk on his fluffy head.

Now that you two live together, sleeping in the same bed was bound to happen eventually. But it is the least of your concerns. In a world where people go ‘ghost’ after getting what they want, laying your head down in the same bed as Steve is the farthest thing from intimacy. You’re also afraid of the dark, and being in his light calms your nerves.

Except for tonight. Where the only thing that’ll calm those nerves is a Wild West burger and some fries.

Steve huffs, clearly too tired to argue with your hungry ass. But also, you’re the mother of his child. You have the hardest job, and having a late night snack when you felt like it is the bare minimum of what you deserve.

“Let’s go.”

You smirk to yourself as you dance your way out of bed. Anything Baby Mama wants, Baby Mama gets.

Rally’s sure did the trick. When you and Steve return, you find yourself skipping back to the bedroom while Harrington fights to urge to plop onto the floor right by the entry way, his body’s natural response to a food coma, and the state of lethargy he was in from being stirred awake.

But as much as he valued his beauty sleep, he knows deep down he’d still do it again for you. Your little food dance was also pretty damn cute, anyways.

———

THE NEXT WEEK

You and Steve have been ordering way too much takeout. So tonight you decide to surprise him with a home-cooked meal. So while he’s at work, you’re searching Pinterest for healthy, savory dishes to cook. Chinese food it is. One can never go wrong with some chicken fried rice.

Steve comes home right when you finish.

“Oh my god,” Steve gawks as he enters the kitchen. “What smells so damn good?”

“I made dinner,” you smile gleefully, and with pride. “I have so much energy second trimester it’s insane. Hope you like Chinese.”

Steve slows down. Glancing around the chaotic kitchen, he takes in the array of sauces, the cutting board, and the multiple plates and bowls that most likely harbored the. Then he looks at you — a sweaty mess with stains on her apron from all the rice tossing. And he can tell, by your slightly labored breathing, that you’re gathering up all the energy you possibly can to powerwash all the dishes.

“You…made this for me?”

“Yeah! For us, actually. And the baby. I hope you’re okay with onions and scallions.”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine with those,” he insists. “It’s just that…I have a date tonight.”

Suddenly the pots and pans feel so much heavier. The air, hotter. The onions, stronger judging by how tears start pooling at the base of your eyes. At least you want to blame it on those.

“Oh,” you sniff.

“I’m so sorry, Honey. I should’ve told you so you didn’t have to go out of your way.”

“It’s fine.”

Why do you feel this way? It’s not like you two are together anyway. This pregnancy is a partnership… platonic with a capital P. So why are you upset? And more importantly, why are you jealous?

“I-I’m sorry…” Steve panics. “I-it’s just that we’ve been getting takeout all week and I thought it’d be the same toni-”

“It’s okay, Steve.”

“That came out so bad, I…”

“I know what you mean,” you shake your head shutting him down immediately. “Have fun tonight, okay?”

“You’re crying…”

“I was chopping onions,” you point out.

You nod to the bag of onions that were yet to be put away. There was a lot left to be put away actually, and you were kind of hoping Steve would help. But clearly he’s a busy man.

“And it’s probably just the stupid pregnancy hormones too,” you add.

“They’re NOT stupid,” Steve insists. “And you just said you have so much energy. You were bursting with light just a moment ago…before I killed it.”

“Have fun tonight, Steve,” you repeat.

You head over to the wok and scoop out a serving for two: one serving for you, and one for the baby. Dad will get the leftovers, you suppose.

Steve watches you intently. You can feel his stare even with your back turned. Suddenly, you hear the faint dial tone of his cell phone ringing a couple of times before someone answers.

“Hey…Lacey, I can’t come tonight,” Steve sighs. “I’m really sorry for being so last minute. A family emergency came up.”

You look back over at him. He makes sure to look you in the eyes as he says ‘family’.

The two of them talk some more before Steve hangs up the phone. Awkwardly now, you chew softly at the rice you made.

“Well she definitely hates me,” Steve chuckles. “But I don’t care.”

“Steve…” you speak. “You didn’t have to.”

“You’re carrying my kid,” Steve looks at you with glimmering eyes. “I can’t be running through the town in the arms of another woman. This pregnancy is a team effort.”

He glides over you and stops right where your hips meet. You timidly manage to look up at him, tear-jerked, all sweaty, and very very pregnant. And after Steve tucks a loose strand of hair behind the blushing cartilage of your ear, he presses his tender lips against your forehead.

“For the baby,” he whispers to you.

“For the baby,” you repeat after him.

The day is here.

The gender reveal, that is. You didn’t expect finding out something as simple as having a boy or girl was going to be this nerve wracking. And to think some people do this in front of a huge audience.

“Okay…” you exhale unevenly. “You ready?”

“Only if you are,” Steve nods, but his trembling hands betray him.

“Hand me a glass.”

Steve hands you one of the two wine glasses you brought for the intimate picnic you had planned for today. On the count of three, you two were to dig those very glasses into the cake and scoop out the long awaited answer.

SWEET CHILD O MINE, the cake reads. Boy or girl?

Henry and Eddie settled for a Rock-N-Roll inspired cake, with self-indulgent black and red buttercream on the outside, and the pre-determined blue or pink on the inside. You were afraid that it was going to be a little too edgy for Steve, but he assures you the aesthetic of a cake is the least of his priorities.

Drawing out an uneven breath now, you decide to start counting down.

“One…” you gulp.

“Two…” Steve joins in.

But you can't bring yourself to say ‘three’. Shutting your eyes closed in a bout of nervousness, you mutter softly,

"Two and a half..."

It earns you a chuckle from Steve. Knowing just how to calm you down, like he had been doing all pregnancy, he offers you his available hand to squeeze if you needed.

“Three!” you two finally say together.

Plunging your wine glasses into the cake, you and Steve gather one big scoop each while your eyes drift elsewhere.

“I can’t look,” you choke, sniffing back a tear or two.

“I can’t either,” Steve exhales, evidently nervous. “You can look first though.”

“No, I’ll look when you do.”

You’re met with messy dough and frosting in the glass at first. But after trailing after the inside part of the cake, you catch sight of the fluffy frosting that was buried beneath. A bright, eye-catching, pastel....

...cerulean blue. A baby boy.

“Oh…my…god,” your hand trembles in complete shock. “It’s a boy…”

“Oh my god, baby!” Steve sniffs going in to hug you. “We’re having a boy…”

And then it happens. Unable to contain himself from his joy any longer, Steve cups your face with his frosting-laced fingers, connecting his lips passionately to yours, and you with him.

It’s the best day of Steve’s life. You are the reason that he gets to live out his dream of becoming a dad. And now that you two are having a son, all he can imagine is teaching the kid how to throw a football in the backyard, signing him up for T-Ball and Boy Scouts (just like his dad once did with him), and taking him and his buddies out on silly, fun-filled rag-tag group adventures.

And knowing how strange and daunting the world can be, Steve already maps out how to raise your child morally, encouraging him to always treat others with kindness, to be a friend to all, to always lend a helping hand whenever the situation calls on it. And to respect women…because after all, everybody came from one. And Steve knows that he struck gold, considering the fact that he views you as an absolute queen.

You kiss King Steve back, humming in awe because of how natural his energy feels against yours.

It all feels very natural. Makes you feel like you’ve known him your entire life.

Your eyes widen in shock as you two look at each other, both stunned that a kiss was both of your initial, seemingly ‘platonic’, response to the news.

"Is it just me or is it just now hitting?" Steve questions. "We're having a kid together."

"It's just now hitting me too," you agree, the double meaning tugging aggressively at your heartstrings. "We're really doing this, Stevie."

“Our son.”

“Our son.”

———

“What happens when one of us finds somebody?”

It’s a talk you and Steve were due for eventually. But Steve is just as unsure, looking over at your pregnant silhouette standing at the foot of the doorway.

But with how beautiful you looked standing at the doorway, your silk, maternity night gown hugging all the beautiful curves of your body while you rubbed your belly that housed your very active kicker, Steve wasn’t even sure if he’d ever want to find somebody else.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” he ends up saying.

He makes his way over to you, wrapping his gentle arms around your waistline, emitting his ever-growing love for you and the baby you two share.

“But if one thing's for sure, it's our son. Baby Harrington first. Before anything.”

“Baby before anything," you repeat the promise.

Steve’s lips graze your skin once again, an invitation and incentive to join him in bed — nuzzled up in the sheets and his warmth — so the two of you can soak in all the rest you possibly can before Baby Boy makes his entrance into the world.

Some bridges aren’t meant for crossing. Sometimes settling is the best option. And you don’t mind settling down. Because here, in Steve’s arms, it feels like home.

WEEK 38

An involuntary rush in your lower extremity stirs you awake. When you feel around to push the sheets aside and hobble to the bathroom, you’re stunned to discover your nightgown had become a raft, and that you’re laying atop your own unscented secretions. And you know it’s not piss. So if you didn’t pee…

Oh no, it’s happening.

You begin to panic.

“Steve!” you hiss, sitting up and pushing your partner awake. “HEY! Harrington!”

“Huh?” Steve mumbles, still half asleep.

“Get the hospital bag.”

“What?”

“Get the hospital bag, dingus. My water just broke.”

He shoots up. Still relatively disoriented, but now also horrified.

“W-what? Are you sure?! Does this… A-are you about to…”

“Yes! Grab the bag and start the car. He’s coming RIGHT NOW.”

While you slowly sit up to get your shoes and a robe on, Steve scurries to the car with your overnight L&D bag and purse in his arms. You reach over to grab your phone and charger, dialing up Eddie in the process.

It rings for a long time before he picks up.

“Honey, it’s 4 AM, what do you want?” Eddie grumbles.

“It’s time, Eds,” you sniff happily. “The baby is coming.”

The line is silent for a couple seconds, and for a while it’s like you can hear Eddie connecting the dots in his head. Alas, he speaks.

“HO-LY SHIT!”

*Click*. The line disconnects.

Steve holds your hand through it all. From checking into Labor and Delivery, to moving to your room, to breathing exercises with your bedside doula, check-ins with your midwife, and throughout the entire birthing process.

Not only is he nervous out of his mind, but he thinks you’re so beautiful.

"You know," Steve says in attempts to soothe you. "When I came out the womb, the nurse yelled "Oh my gosh! That's a lot of hair on a baby!"

You're too fixated on your breathing exercises to fully appreciate Steve's story. But you understand his sweet gesture, so you stroke his thumb with your thumb to let him know you're listening.

“I guess I had double the amount of hair than a usual newborn,” he continues. “And all the nurses were crowding around to get a good— OW OW OW! Watch the hand, watch the hand.”

The sudden level 9 contraction that shot through your entire stomach, causing you to scream in agony and beg for the epidural.

"JESUS, FUCK GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME!" you plead desperately.

Steve kisses you softly on the forehead before going in to stroke your, very sweaty, hair. He was not going to leave your side. Not now, not ever. This baby — and you — are the best things to ever happen to him.

Thanks to yours and Steve's mindful prep, the birthing process was a smooth one compared to others.

But still pretty painful, nonetheless. For you, for Steve, for everybody involved.

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit," Eddie sputters as he and Henry rush onto the unit with the baby's carseat and other miscellaneous belongings in their hands. "It's happening, it's happening. He's almost here!"

"I wonder," Henry pants, doing his best to keep up with his boyfriend. "If she experienced the Ring of Fire yet."

"What's the Ring of Fire?" Eddie questions him.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" your tumultuous screams sound down the hall directly from your room. Anyone would've thought someone was getting murdered in there, had it not been a hospital unit strictly for childbirth.

"That," Henry answers him.

---

"You're almost there, baby," Steve encourages you. "Keep pushing."

The epidural had finally kicked in and now all you had to focus on was pushing.

“I see the head, Mama,” your midwife announces, rubbing your knee as you’re struggling to push. “Keep going, keep going! Couple more for me.”

“FUCK!” you cry out doing your best to contract those muscles.

“There we go…” Steve soothes you as he strokes your hair. “Doing AMAZING, baby. That’s it…”

He strokes your thumb with his, a helpless look in his eyes as he watches you struggle. It’s clear that Steve doesn’t know what else he could possibly do for you, but he attempts to mask that belief. He couldn’t wait to spoil you afterwards. It’s what you deserve.

“Few more pushes, Honey,” your nurse says again. “He’s almost out. We got his shoulders now.”

“Oh god I’m gonna faint,” Steve says, evidently growing dizzy.

“Can someone get a wet towel for Dad?!” another nurse calls out. “And maybe some juice?”

“PUSH, PUSH!”

“PUSH, Honey!”

“ALMOST THERE, MAMA!”

“I can’t,” you cry out. “I can’t anymore.”

“You can do it, baby,” Steve encourages you, pelting the back of your hand with endearing kisses. “You’re doing such a good job, I’m so proud of you…”

Before you know it, the air of the hospital room fills with tiny belted cries, followed by relieved and adorn coos as the nurse catches your baby.

“0507, time of birth!"

“Oh my god,” Steve wails in excitement. “Oh my god, he’s here he’s out. We have a baby! You did it, Honey!”

Too exhausted to say anything you simply fall back, taking a few deep breaths in relief. It’s over, the baby is here. And he is healthy.

You feel a sloppy kiss land on your cheek. Steve ruffles your hair when you look his way.

“You did it, Honey.”

Everything happens so fast after that.

From what you hear, Steve was the one who cut the umbilical cord — and he was very adamant about having the pictures to prove it. The baby was then weighed and bathed, all the hospital data was gathered with permission granted by Steve.

And soon, after an eternity, your son is swaddled and soon returned back to you and ‘Dad’.

"Oh wow!" a nurse remarks. "This baby has a whole lotta hair!"

You and Steve immediately look to each other and burst out laughing. Just like his Daddy...

———

“How does that feel, Steve?” you ask him, eyes fixated on the absolute DILF in front of you.

“Amazing,” he coos. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

When all needs were attended to, it was finally time for ‘skin to skin’. You didn’t think it’d be possible to be both sexy and wholesome at the same time — until you saw Steve cradling your newborn, pressing him tenderly against his exposed chest so that their hearts can beat as one.

“Hi little man,” he sniffs. “I’m your daddy.”

A single tear falls from his face and splashes onto the blanket that your son was cocooned in. Steve pulls him in closer and kisses him softly on the forehead.

“I’m your daddy,” he repeats.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted. Steve’s legacy is about to begin and it’s all thanks to you. And from your hospital bed as you recover, you are able to snap some pictures of the two loves of your life, the first photos of many, of the family photo albums.

“Ugh, when did Steve get so hairy?” Lucas wonders as he sneaks a gaze into the hospital room.

“Right?” Dustin agrees, joining him beside the doorway. “I told him he needs to tame that jungle but he claims the ladies dig it.”

“I mean, look at Honey,” Lucas points out. She seems to like it and Steve knocked her up.”

“True but it wasn’t organic, you idiot,” Max mutters.

Love pours in from every wing of the unit. Soon all your family and friends start to arrive, as well as Steve’s family and friends. You’re spoiled with ‘congratulations’ signs, and postpartum care packages, and an array of foods that you couldn’t eat while pregnant (i.e. sushi, deli sandwiches).

And with your approval, Steve comes out of the hospital room, ready — and proud — to showcase your baby to the entire world.

“Everyone, there’s someone we’d like for you to meet,” Steve says, keeping his voice at a low murmur. “This is Benjamin Dean Harrington. Benny for short.”

You and Steve end up taking parental leave at the same time.

Your entire day-to-day consists of loving on and spending quality time with Benny. The diaper changes, the cuddles, the nursery rhymes, and everything in between. It’s impossible to think you’ll ever get tired of it. You and Steve have officially transitioned to Mom & Dad Mode.

Until Benny goes to sleep.

As the golden sun peaks in through the cream colored blinds, you feel Steve’s hand trail down your back and down to your ass to grab it. Releasing a soft moan, you lean into his touch, shifting your weight to one side of the mattress.

“Baby…” he moans into you.

“Should we?” your eyes twinkle. “The baby’s asleep…”

He chuckles into your neck, raspy voice sure to be the end of you if he kept teasing you any longer.

“‘m scared I’ll hurt you.”

“I’ll let you know,” you barter. “I feel ready.”

———

“Fuck, right there, Steve…”

You grip the sheets tightly as Steve rolls his hips into you, his strokes a delicious mix of pleasure and a challenging stretch. And as you bite into your pillow, your eyes rolling up towards the sky, he maintains the pace you love so much, drilling you in, simultaneously massaging your clit while his quenched lips tenderly suction themselves to the crook of you neck.

It’s your first time together, but it feels like you two have done this before. Your bodies are naturally in sync, knowing where your boundaries lie without needing any cues, and knowing exactly how far you both can take it. Daddy Steve, being the gentleman he is, has your entire body mapped out.

“God I love it,” your overstimulated self whimpers, chest to your chin, ankles dangling off of Steve’s broad shoulders as he rails you.

“Oh, I bet you do, Honey.”

His large hand encloses around your neck, thumb hovering over your lips as he fawns over your mewling, vulnerable body.

“You want my cum, baby?” Steve asks. “Want me to fill you to the brim huh? You wanna have my babies?”

“Yes, I want your babies, Steve,” you moan. “Want all of them.”

And as an orgasm spills out of you, Steve’s spills in, coating you with his warm release as you both unravel in the sheets.

“Holy shit, that felt so good,” you whisper, nuzzling your head against his chest. Steve grins from ear to ear when you kiss him on the chin. “Thank you for making me feel so safe and loved.”

“Well when you’re you Honey, you make it so easy,” he blushes.

Steve rests his hands on your ass again, giving it a faint smack. You bite your lip as he pulls you even closer to him. And as the sun sets, you know round two is on the horizon.

“Anyways, when ARE we having another one?”

———

author’s note: i’m noticing some themes with the way i write eddie smut vs steve smut. i totally write eddie as a rough dom and steve is def a soft dom. not complaining tho, those are my headcannons for them 🤭

divider creds: @silkholland , @elfbar-baby

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 3

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of sex, mentions of cheating, mentions of emotional abuse (Chrissy’s mom), absent parent, daddy issues, jealousy. Billy being Billy… it’s not what you think

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Someone you don't want to see shows up at your doorsteps.

Word count: 6.7k

Note: @mysticmunson thank you for helping me as always, you're the best! @somethingvicked thank you for the idea with Billy, it's working perfectly for this story

series masterlist

-

Steve had been so on edge ever since he found out about you and Billy. He knows that Tommy and Carol aren’t the most honest people. They strive off of chaos, they live for the drama and the lies and constantly make up new things to gossip about but for some reason, he believes their words this time. Billy had been following you around ever since he broke up with you– he had been running after you for some time now but never like this. You always rejected him, you were taken and not interested but now Steve can’t help but wonder, were you truly not interested or were you just rejecting him because you were with him? Were you secretly into Billy all this time? The thought of it makes him feel sick. 

He sits in his car, bouncing his knee as he stares out the window, waiting for his girlfriend. The parking lot is filled with students, he hears laughter and different voices. He sees Billy walking towards his car, the usual smug and arrogant look resting on his face. He straightens up, looking around to see if you’re around too, wanting to see if you will get in the car with him. What will he do if you do get into his car? 

“Hey!” 

Nancy’s voice startles him a little, he tears his eyes away from the blue camaro and turns to look at his girlfriend. 

“Hey Nance,” he smiles. He instantly leans closer to her once she’s seated, she meets him halfway, kissing him on the lips. Her eyes are closed, his are open and they flash with curiosity when he sees you through his window. You look his way and it’s enough for him to tense up. 

He expects you to get into Billy’s car but instead you go the other way, you pass by his car and look straight ahead, pretending to not see him or her. He breaks the kiss, Nancy doesn’t seem to mind, she leans back and puts the seatbelt on as she begins to talk about her project. Steve hums and nods along, turning his head to see where you are going. 

Are you going to Heather’s car? To Chrissy’s car? It turns out to be neither of those, instead you leave the parking lot and walk into the direction of the football field. Where are you going? 

“I figured that we could rent a movie tomorrow since we can’t hang out tonight,” Nancy says, “I really wanna get it done. It’s been nice to hang out with Jonathan again though, we should all go out together sometime!”

“Sure,” Steve mumbles and turns back to her when he no longer sees you. 

Her brows are raised and a confused smile is on her lips, “were you even listening?” 

He nods, “yeah, you want me to hang out with Byers,” he says with an eye roll. 

“Hey,” Nancy mumbles, hitting his arm, “he’s nice, you just gotta get to know him.” 

“Sure,” he chuckles, running his fingers through his hair, “nice.” 

Nancy shakes her head at him, raising her arm, she pulls down the sun visor and flips open the small mirror, a piece of paper that was tucked into it falls into her lap. Her brows knit together as she looks down at it. She picks it up, it’s just a simple brown paper that was ripped out of a notebook, she turns it around. Annoyance bubbles inside of her when she sees the writing on the note. It’s not much but it’s from you, it’s not signed but she recognizes your handwriting and the little heart, only you draw it like that. 

I love you 

She presses her lips together and glances over at Steve who is staring into blank space. 

How long has the note been here? Does he even know that it existed? 

“Here,” Nancy mumbles and throws it into his lap. 

Steve glances at her first, brows furrowed and lips parted, he notices the annoyed look on her face. He looks down at the note in his lap. Oh. 

“I didn’t know you still kept her things.”

Steve blinks as he stares at your handwriting. You drew a little heart next to your I love you. He swallows harshly. The weird feeling in his chest returns yet again. He didn’t even know the note was there– you did things like that all the time, leaving little notes everywhere for him to find. He kept them all. 

“I don’t,” he lies as he puts the note in his pocket after folding it, “I didn’t even know it was there. I’ll throw it away later.” 

Nancy nods, eyeing him from the side. She doesn’t like the way he folded the paper so neatly. He should’ve crumpled it up and thrown it out the window. 

“Okay.”

-

The scented candles in your room are lit, making the air smell like pumpkin spice and cinnamon. The light of your salt lamp makes everything appear softer, you never use the big light in your room, you hate it. The police’s every breath you take is playing in the background. 

“Are you going to the winter formal?” Chrissy asks as she flips to the next page of her new fashion magazine. You are both laying on your bed, the decoration pillows all over the floor. You look at the pretty dresses in the magazine. You would be wearing one of those next Friday if Steve wasn’t such a cheating asshole. 

“Nope.” 

She glances at you with a sad look in her eyes, “we could go together.” 

You give her a small smile as you shake your head. 

“No, it’s okay,” you say, “I don’t feel like going anyway, he’s gonna be there with her.” 

She sighs, her lips are set in a frown, “you know, I never liked him. As much as I hate to say it, I’m not surprised about his actions but Nancy?” She mumbles, “who would’ve thought that she’s such a.. bitch.” 

“Yeah, looks deceive, huh?” 

“Totally.” 

You told your friends about what Nancy said in the girls bathroom when she didn’t know that you were there. 

“She looks like one of those church girls.” 

A surprised laugh leaves your lips, “a church girl?” 

“Yeah, she wears those ugly long skirts and those preppy blouses that my mom forces me to wear when we go to church on Sunday’s,” she mumbles, rolling her eyes. 

“Is she a church girl?” You ask. 

She snorts and shakes her head, “I don’t think so, I’ve never seen her around.” 

You nod. 

She flips to the next page, eying all the dresses before her eyes land on the ugliest one, a giggle falling from her lips, she points at it with her pink nails, “looks like something she would wear.” 

You can’t help but laugh. 

“And that’s why she won’t ever be prom queen, that’ll be you,” you say, expecting to see a smile on her face but instead it falls and a frown settles in her features. 

“It’s not prom yet,” she mumbles, “and I don’t really wanna be the queen to some asshole’s king.” 

Raising your brows, you tilt your head as you look at her. Cupping your cheek, you lean your elbow on the pillow beneath you, “you mean, you don’t want to be Jason Carver’s queen?” 

A look of disgust crosses her features and she shudders at the mention of his name. 

“Mom forces me to go with him,” she says, looking like she’s ready to break down out of frustration, “I don’t want to go with him.”

Your gaze softens, you place your hand on her back, “then don’t go with him.”

She keeps her eyes locked on the magazine, “you know how my mom is, I can’t just not go, she’ll make my life a living hell if I don’t do what she says.” 

You never liked Chrissy’s mother, she was always horrible to her. Always pushing her to do and be ‘better’, forcing her to associate herself with people who already climbed up the social ladder, like Jason Carver. 

You sigh, wishing you could help her. 

“What if you just stop doing what she wants you to do?” You shrug. 

She sighs and opens her mouth to speak but you cut her off, holding your hand up, you sit up on your knees, “I know, I know, easier said than done but–” you pause, looking around your room, you eye the freshly washed and ironed cheerleader uniform, the cassettes in the little box on your floor, bands that are his favorites, singers that your friends love so much, you stare at the baby pink wallpaper and the colorful clothes in your messy closet– you should’ve closed the door, the sight of the mess makes you want to groan in annoyance. 

“But?” Chrissy mumbles as she waits for you to continue. 

You blink, tearing your eyes away from all the things in your room that you didn’t come to like on your own. You look back at your best friend. 

“If you do things for others, if you do things because they want you to do them or because they expect you to do them, because they like those things– you will end up feeling miserable at some point, you will lose yourself and one day you’re gonna realize that you don’t even know yourself, that you don’t even know what you like, what you truly want or… who you even are..” 

She lets your words sink in. For a moment it’s silent between the two of you. You look down at your hands while she stares at you. Sadness and realization crossing her features. You are trying to help, she knows it but you are also realizing something about yourself, she can tell by the lost look in your eyes. 

“I know that things would be tense if you just started going against her stupid rules or wishes but you can always come to me if things get tough at home,” you say, reaching out to take her hand, “I’m here and you know my mom won’t mind you staying with us.” 

Her eyes light up at your words, a smile tugs at her lips, she turns her hand around and squeezes yours, “you’re the best, you know that right?” She whispers. 

You smile at her words, you tilt your head, “no, I’m not.”

She frowns and rolls her eyes, “yes, you are.” 

“Says who?” You chuckle. 

“I do,” she says, proudly. 

“Oh,” you smirk, leaning closer to her, you don’t notice the way her eyes widen or the way her cheeks flush a little red, “you do, huh?” 

She blinks, her lips part and she stares at your face. Your face hovers over hers for a second before you lay back down on your bed and reach for the bat shaped pillow, the one you excitedly bought for your ‘halloween’ decoration, hugging it to your chest, you stare up at the ceiling, not noticing her stare or her tense body. 

“A-Are you sure you don’t wanna come to the winter formal?” She asks again. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

She looks down at her hands, “okay,” she frowns. 

“Hey,” you whisper, glancing at her, “you’ll still have fun.”

“With Jason?” She mumbles, rolling her eyes, “I doubt that.”

“You can still go with someone else. If your mom is gonna act like a bitch, I’ll kick her ass for you.”

A giggle falls from her lips and she shakes her head as she looks at you with a smile on her face. 

Rolling on your side, you prop your head up on your hand. Curiosity sparks inside of you. 

“Who did you really want to go with?” You ask, “I know there is someone.” You notice the blush on her face and it only deepens the longer you stare at her. 

“Oh uh–” she chuckles nervously, “n-no one, I just, I don’t wanna go with Jason.” 

“Are you sure about that?” 

She nods. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know that, right?” 

“I-I’m not.” 

“Good, we’re best friends, we tell each other everything, right?” 

“Yeah,” she whispers and gives you a smile that doesn’t really reach her eyes. “I’m gonna go now, I still have to study for the math test tomorrow,” she groans. 

“Oh.. yeah,” you mumble, trying to hide the disappointed look on your face. You hate being by yourself, there’s too much going on in your mind when you’re all alone in this house– you used to love it but ever since he left, it’s just been hard. “I gotta start working on the assignment.” 

Chrissy rolls her eyes just the way she did when you told her about who you got partnered up with. 

“You know, you could still take Billy up on that offer.” 

You snort at her words, “I don’t think we need Billy to kick his ass, Heather will do.” 

“Did you know that she accidentally bumped into him at Nick’s party last weekend? He was holding a drink and it got all over Nancy,” she giggles. 

Your eyes widen, you can’t even fight the grin off your face, “no way?” You gasp.

“Yes way,” she laughs as she reaches for her backpack, “he got all pissed and looked like he was ready to fight but when he saw Heather, he got all quiet– he even looked scared.” 

“He should be,” you chuckle. 

“And Nancy got all hysterical and ran off.”

You snort, “she deserved it.”

“She deserves worse for what she did– they both do,” she sighs. 

She never liked Steve, even before you started dating him, she couldn’t stand him. His presence annoyed her and more so when you two got together and she had to watch how he continuously messed with your feelings. 

“Yeah well, I don’t care anymore, I’m moving on…” 

She knows that there is no truth behind your words, you are not moving on. You still love him, she thinks that you always will. You always looked at him like he was the only light in your life, like he was the one who hung every star in the dark sky, it made her hate him even more because he never looked at you like that. 

“I’ll walk you to the door–”

“No, it’s fine,” she smiles, “you don’t have to.” She walks towards you and pulls you into a hug, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” She squeezes you tightly before she lets go, giving you another smile. 

“Yeah, still gotta help you pick out the right shoes for your dress,” you say. 

She nods, “and maybe I’ll manage to convince you to come, after all,” she says as she pulls away and begins to walk out of your room, “I’d rather go with you than Jason,” she says quickly before she turns around and leaves the room, saying ‘bye’ in a sing song voice. 

You chuckle and throw your head back against the pillow. 

“Jason Carver,” you mumble in disgust. Not a single person could ever force you to go to the winter formal with him but Chrissy’s mother is the epitome of an evil witch, you know that she will make her life more miserable if she doesn’t do as she says. You understand why Chrissy would rather suffer through the night with him than risk a fight with her mother. 

Not even five minutes after she left, the doorbell rings. Looking around the room, you try to see if she forgot something, that’s what usually happens when she leaves, she rushes back in a few minutes later because she left her keys or something else. Sighing, you push roll out of bed and rush out of the room. 

The doorbell rings again. 

“I’m coming!” You call out, “since when are you so impatient..” 

Your socks are a little slippery on the hardwood floor, careful not to fall, you hold onto the railing as you hurry down the stairs. Grabbing the doorknob, you are already smiling in amusement, “let me guess, you forgot–” with your words caught in your throat and your smile falling quicker than ever, you only manage to stare at him in confusion. 

There he is, Steve Harrington, standing on your front porch with his hands in his pocket and an unreadable expression on his face. What does he want? 

Even though it was him who came here to see you, he stands frozen in place. He stares at you and you stare at him. You are both frozen, time stops, everything stops moving, right now, it’s just the two of you in this world. 

It’s the first time you look at him again, properly. All the sadness, all the pain and the longing comes creeping back. It was there all this time, hidden beneath all the anger but it was easier to deal with it when you started pretending like he didn’t exist anymore, when you forced yourself not to look at him anymore, when you threw all his things away, when you let go of him. How dare he show up here? 

Steve watches the way your eyes flash with confusion, anger and sadness, they soften for a split second. This is the first time you actually look at him again. This is the first time you are forced to acknowledge his presence again. A feeling he can only describe as relief rushes through him when you finally look into his eyes again. 

It feels like forever that you look at each other when in reality only a minute passed since you opened the door. You blink and take a step back, rolling your eyes, you go to shut the door without wanting to hear an explanation as to why he is here– “no.” Is all you say before slamming the door in his face but he is quicker than you, he always was. He places his palm on the door, stopping you from closing it, “wait–”

“Get lost, Harrington.” 

He sighs, he didn’t expect anything else from you.

You try to close the door again but he doesn’t let you, keeping his palm pressed against the wooden door, he stares at you with a stubborn look on his face. God, you want to punch him. 

“What do you want?” You ask as you finally give up and let go of the door, you cross your arms over your chest and take a step back, not looking into his eyes. You raise your brows and glare at him when he invites himself into your house, he shuts the door behind him. You shake your head in disbelief. 

He is wearing the stupid flannel that you used to love so much, the one you always stole from him– does it still smell like you? 

“We have to work on the assignment together.” 

Is he serious? 

“I told you, I’ll do it myself,” you snap at him before you turn around and make your way into the kitchen in hopes that he will leave but instead, he follows you into the kitchen. 

“We’re partners, it wouldn’t be fair to let you do all the work by yourself.”

You clench your jaw at his words, how ironic of him to say that. Turning the light on in the kitchen, you walk towards the fridge and open it, distracting yourself from his presence by staring at all the food and drinks. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m used to doing all the work myself, my previous partner wasn’t much of a help,” you murmur, “in any way.”

Steve scoffs at your words, though he looks down in embarrassment, knowing exactly what things you are talking about. He places his hands on his hips and glances at you through his lashes, he eyes you for a moment before he speaks up, “listen, I-I wanna do better in school and I really want to work on this assignment.” 

You close your eyes, shaking your head, you take a deep breath. Why did he have to sit next to you today? 

“Since when do you care about being better in school?” You ask in annoyance, reaching for a water bottle, you close the fridge again and turn around to face him. He breaks eye contact the moment you raise your brows in question. 

He shrugs, “I wanna graduate next year and Mr. Higgins said that I–”

“Don’t care,” you interrupt him and sigh of boredom. 

He looks a little taken aback, furrowing his brows, he stares at you for a moment as he presses his lips back together. When he came here, he didn’t expect you to be so.. mean. Steve only ever knew you as the sweet girl, not once did you treat him badly in all the years he has known you. You never gave him the cold shoulder, not even when he deserved it. You were always kind, gentle and forgiving. 

Heartbreak changes a person but not like this, right? What happened in those two months ever since he left? 

While Steve tries to figure you out. You try to figure out how to handle this situation. 

Should you curse him out and kick him out of your house and show him how hurt you still are? Should you really give him that satisfaction? Or should you pretend to be okay, give him the cold shoulder that you should’ve given him years ago and act like you are fine with this, with working with him? 

You opt for the latter. You don’t want him to see the power he still has over you. You don’t want him to see how much you still want him.  

You can feel his eyes on you, burning into you, it makes your skin crawl. 

You take deep breaths before you look back up at him. 

“Don’t you have better things to do on a Thursday night?” You scoff. You know damn well that he never worked on homeworks or assignments when he was still with you, he had ‘better’ things to do. You were the one that did all these things for him. 

“Can we just work on this?” He sighs.

You roll your eyes and shrug, “yeah.” 

Surprise flashes in his eyes, he didn’t think that it would be that easy to convince you to work with him. For weeks, you wouldn’t even look at him, you wouldn’t even glance into his direction. He figured that it was because of how hurt you were after the breakup but now he begins to doubt that that is why you stopped acknowledging him. 

“Come on then,” you mumble as you make your way out of the kitchen, brushing past him. He nods, looking down at the floor, he turns around and follows you into the hallway, turning the light off on the way out. 

It feels weird to be back in your house, it feels so familiar yet so… strange. There isn’t much in your room that has changed since the last time he had been in here– only the lack of his things is noticeable to him. The bottle of his cologne that used to be on your dresses is gone and so are the collection of polaroids. He frowns, a weird feeling tugs at his heart. You got rid of everything. It shouldn’t bother him as much as it does. He looks around the room that haunts his dreams– a piece of clothing that neither belongs to you or him is draped over the chair by your desk. It’s a black denim jacket. Clenching his jaw, he wonders if it belongs to Billy. The thought of you wearing his clothes, of you being with him makes him so.. angry. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?” You mumble without looking back at him. You are already back on your bed with your notebook in your lap. He stares at you, the moment feels too familiar. He remembers climbing up to your window one night, he wanted to surprise you with flowers. You were sitting on your bed just like you do now but instead of the notebook you had a magazine on your lap and you were wearing pajamas. You looked so cute. 

“We gotta settle on a topic,” you say and raise your head to look at him. 

Steve’s brows are still furrowed, he still stares at you. He feels confused, irritated and a little hurt. You seem so.. okay. You look at him and talk to him as though nothing ever happened. Are you okay without him? Are you happier without him? 

He blinks, snapping himself out of his thoughts, he walks towards your desk, he pulls out the chair and sits down. 

“Yeah.. what do you wanna write about?” 

You shrug, “I don’t know, we could totally write an essay about snakes, there’s one in my room, right now.” 

His lips part and his face scrunches up in confusion, it takes him a moment to realize what you mean. His shoulders slump and he scoffs, “very funny.”

“I know,” you smirk. 

“We could write about basketball–” 

Your scoff cuts him off, causing him to roll his eyes. 

“Or about cheerleading–”

“Are you crazy?”

“I think you know more about cheerleading than I do, you were the one who convinced me to do it after all,” you say, tilting your head at him, “remember?”

He leans back in the chair, spreading his legs, he nods at your words and clenches his jaw, “yeah..”

There is so much tension in your room, his presence makes you angry. 

After the initial shock subsided and the sadness turned into anger, you began to curse him for what he did, especially when you found out that he had kissed her while he was still with you. That is something you will never forgive him, the lies and the cheating. 

The anger makes you feel stronger, it keeps the sadness away, for the most part, at least. 

“How about we do something more classy– although, you don’t do classy, so…” 

Steve rolls his eyes at your words, “not like you do it either,” he mumbles. 

You snort, not showing him the anger or the annoyance that you are feeling right now. You tilt your head and stare at him in question.

“I mean, given that you fucked Billy Hargrove out of all people,” he says with a looks of distaste on his face. 

What? 

You almost laugh in his face but you hold yourself back. 

He eyes your expression slowly, waiting for a reaction. He expects you to scoff, to look caught, to look embarrassed, to blush or to deny it all– just the way you always denied your attraction to Billy every time he brought it up but he gets nothing from you. Absolutely nothing and it only fuels his anger even more. The burning in his chest and stomach worsens when you look at him with a straight face. 

You look at him for a while, not moving, not saying anything, he can’t even read the look on your face. After a while, you sigh and look down at your notebook, “so how about we write an essay about Romeo and Juliet?” You ask, “you know, since it’s the only book you actually ever touched.” 

His brows knit together, his cheeks grow red, “are you not gonna say anything?” 

His irrational anger amuses you a little but you don’t show it. 

You look at him through hooded eyes, not raising your head, “I just did?” 

He rolls his eyes and stands up, walking towards you, “I mean about Billy.” 

“What about him?”

“Did you sleep with him?” He asks. 

His eyes flash with desperation. He wants to know, he needs to know. 

How ironic it is to see him beg for an answer when he has no right to even get one. He never gave you the truth so why should you? You are not his anymore.

His eyes are pleading. Why does he want to know? Why does he even care? He has the girl he truly loves, why should it matter what you do or who you do it with? 

“So, I’m not sure if you remember the story but in Romeo and Juliet, there’s obviously that tragic ending so–”

“Y/n,” he sighs. 

You close your mouth and glare at him, you used to love hearing him say your name, now you hate it. 

“Would you rather write an essay about Billy Hargrove?” You ask calmly, giving him a fake smile. 

“No,” he rolls his eyes. 

“Good, cause I don’t either.” 

He runs his fingers through his hair and huffs in frustration, closing his eyes, he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“We could write about pride and prejudice.”

You lift your chin and look at him in surprise. You used to reread that book all the time, he knows it’s your favorite– he used to steal it out of your hands, reading some of Mr.Darcy’s lines in a mocking way, back then it made you laugh. 

“You didn’t even read it,” you murmur. 

“I can read it now,” he shrugs, “you still have it, right?” 

“We got a week to finish the essay, Steve. It’ll take you days to even finish and understand that book so don’t even bother–”

“No,” he says stubbornly, “I want to.”

You throw your hands up, “why?” 

‘Cause you wanted to choose the book for your next essay, you told him that weeks before.. her. ‘Cause you love it so much– or used to love it. 

He doesn’t look at you, he stares at the ground and shrugs, “just let me do it, please,” he says, “I can get started on the essay while reading it.” 

You try to figure him out. Why is this so important to him? He used to make fun of that book, of you reading so much. He would laugh whenever you offered to read it for him and now he suddenly wants to read it himself? 

Sighing, you get up and walk towards your bookshelf. You bend down and reach for the book before you turn back to face him. 

It feels weird to see him back in your room– a place he spent so many nights in, a place he used to kiss you in, a place he used to touch you in. 

“Here.” 

You hold it out to him, keeping distance between the two of you as though you are scared to come near him. His fingertips brush yours when he takes the book from you, warmth spreads across his skin and he finds himself looking at your face. 

You quickly pull your hand back and cross your arms over your chest, avoiding his eyes, “well, you should probably get started then,” you mumble, nudging your chin into the direction of your door, subtly kicking him out. 

“Yeah,” he breathes and looks back down, eying the cover of your beloved book, “what are you doing tomorrow night?” 

Just leave, please. You think to yourself. 

“Why?”

“Well, we could start working on it tomorrow,” he offers. 

“Yeah sure.” You don’t want to work with him, you don’t want to see him but agreeing to it will get him out of your house sooner, “I’ll call you.” 

“Okay.” 

You can feel his eyes on you, he is staring and it makes you want to both scream and cry. Leave, just leave. 

“I’ll get going.” He steps away, taking one last look at you before he turns around, “good night, y/n.”

You don’t say anything back, you stay silent, refusing to even look at him. You don’t notice the way he halts in his tracks when his eyes fall on the picture on your wall, the only one left of him. Steve knows that you didn’t keep it up because of him but it still makes something inside of him burn. There’s no other reminders of him left, only this one. You could have cut him out but you didn’t, you kept him there. His eyes soften and he glances at you. You are still standing there in the same spot, with your arms crossed and your gaze stuck to the floor. The urge to– no. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to leave. 

Your fingernails dig into your arms, you bite your lip as you feel the tears welling up in your eyes. The lump in your throat begins to grow. Why did he show up? You hear him walking down the stairs and it feels like forever until he reaches the door. The sob begins to threaten to escape. 

You slowly make your way towards your bedroom door, shutting it quietly. You press your back against it and look up at the ceiling. Tears roll down your cheeks the minute you let your guard down. 

“I hate you, Steve Harrington.”

-

Cold water dribbles down on him, making goosebumps rise up on his skin, he shivers at the feeling but sighs in content when he feels himself getting more energized again. Basketball practice tired him more than usual but that was probably because he stayed up all night, reading pride and prejudice. To his surprise, he ended up liking it more than he thought. Though he can’t stand Darcy for some reason. 

Another thing that kept him up was you. Your indifference, your lack of emotions, the anger and the sadness he had seen in your eyes the last time you had looked at him was gone. There is nothing in your eyes now, just simply nothing. It shouldn’t bother him, in fact, it should make him feel relieved to know that you are not hurting anymore but somehow it hurts him to know that you just don’t care anymore. 

He didn’t love you but you loved him, at least that’s what he always believed. 

Did you realize that you never loved him either? 

“What’s wrong, Harrington? Did you realize that you’re a shit player?” 

He can’t even help but sigh in annoyance. His jaw clenches and so do his fists. He waited until everyone was done showering, not feeling like interacting with anyone, he didn’t know that Billy was still around, if he knew, he would’ve been the first in the shower. 

He opens his eyes and glares at him. 

Billy looks at him with a smirk on his face, he turns the water on and closes his eyes as he steps under the stream. 

Steve decides to ignore him, turning his head away from him, he reaches for his shampoo with shaky hands. Just the presence of Billy is enough for him to shake out of anger. He hates him so much. 

“Heard you were at y/n’s house last night.” 

At that, Steve tenses up. How and why does he know? He keeps his eyes down as he begins to wash his hair. 

“Yeah, so?”

Billy chuckles, taking a moment to reply. 

“What were you doing there?” 

“How’s that any of your business?” Steve mumbles in annoyance. 

Billy shrugs, narrowing his eyes at him, “when assholes like you go to their ex-girlfriends house it’s usually to fuck,” he says, smirking. 

Steve shakes his head, “we’re working on an essay together.” 

“Mhm.” 

To his surprise, Billy keeps quiet for the remaining time. Steve quickly finishes up and leaves the shower after wrapping a towel around his waist, wanting to escape him as quickly as he can. 

Steve can’t stand to be in the same room as him for longer than a minute, he always felt that way about him but especially after hearing those rumors about you and Billy from Tommy and Carol. It still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. 

Back in the locker room, he scrunches his face up in disgust, it smells like sweat, too much deodorant and cologne in here. No one is around anymore, everyone has already left. 

Steve reaches for his dirty clothes and stuffs them into his duffle bag before he starts getting dressed. He puts on a pair of boxers and his jeans and reaches for his belt when Billy walks back in. 

Steve’s jaw feels tense from all the clenching but he can’t stop it. Every time he sees him, he thinks of you and him together. He thinks of you being touched by him, of you being kissed by him, of you being– god, he can’t stand it. He can’t stand the thought of you being touched by Billy Hargrove or any other man for that matter.

He knows that there is a huge chance that you aren’t with him or with anyone else but he can’t be too sure. 

“Did you fuck her?” 

Billy smirks when the question finally tumbles out of Steve’s mouth, he knows that he has been dying to ask. He stays silent and puts his clothes on instead, taking his time with it. 

Steve puts his sweater over his head and turns around to face Billy, who is already staring at him smugly as he dries his hair with the white towel. 

Steve’s nostrils flare and he feels like throwing a punch at him already, he clenches his fists, fingernails digging into his palms. 

“Why are you asking a question that you already know the answer to?” Billy smirks. 

He stiffens a little, gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to do what he so badly wants to do. 

“I don’t know the answer, that’s why I’m asking.” 

“Why do you want to know?” Billy chuckles as he tilts his head to the side, he throws the towel back on the bench and puts his white tank top on, “you dumped her.” 

Billy walks towards him slowly, he looks confident, he always does. He looks directly into his eyes, the smugness remaining on his face. 

“Let me tell you something.” 

Steve drops his arms to his sides and puffs out his chest, raising his chin slightly. His heartbeat quickens, not out of fear but out of anticipation. 

“When you came to school with your new little plaything, she left. I found her behind the school, she was crying.” 

Nothing good will come out of his mouth next, Steve already knows it. The thought of you crying over him does little to mend the anger in his chest. 

“Wanna know what I did?” Billy asks, raising his brows. He licks his lips and grins a little as he steps closer. 

Steve nudges his chin up. 

“I took her home and I fucked her so hard that she forgot that you ever existed. In fact, I think a good fuck was all it needed,” Billy chuckles darkly as he looks him up and down, “‘cause you clearly never fucked her good enough.” 

Steve is seething, burning and trembling with anger. The smirk on the blond’s face is only fueling his anger. 

“Now I’m not the only one,” Billy smirks at the angry look on Steve’s face. His cheeks are red, the brown in his eyes vanished completely, all there is now is blackness. He is not just angry, he is in rage and Billy is loving it. “A little birdie told me that she’s been sneaking around with one of the stoners, so..” Billy laughs, turning around with satisfaction in his eyes.

Steve doesn’t know whether to throw a punch, to scream at him or at himself for feeling this way. He wants to throw up at the thought of you fucking Billy, of you sneaking around with some loser. 

Billy grabs his stuff, he puts on his brown leather jacket. He can sense Steve’s anger and it makes him feel more satisfied than ever. 

“Let me tell you a little secret, Steve. Girls like her, the ones who get left behind by their daddies, they’re a little damaged but they keep going. They still got a little hope left, but the moment they get their heart broken by some asshole they fall in love with, they’re damaged beyond repair. Even if you come crawling back to her and she ends up being stupid enough to take your sorry ass back, she will never be the same again. You crushed her poor little heart.”

Steve is breathing heavily, his knuckles are white from how hard he is clenching his fist. He would love nothing more than to finally throw that punch but he holds himself back, knowing that it will only make things even worse. 

Billy slaps his hand on Steve’s shoulder, narrowing his eyes, he chuckles, “loosen up, King Steve, go and get your little geek. I’ll take care of y/n, I think she’s better off with me anyways. At least she feels something when I fuck her.” 

And with that, Billy leaves him standing, knowing the damage he caused, it leaves him more satisfied than ever, to know that he messed with him— to know what it takes to mess with him.

next part

-

only tagging friends!

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @take-everything-you-can @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie Munson part 3

Cindy Lou Who🎄 - Y/N can't help but feel blue as she watches Eddie fall in love ( angst )

Baby on board - requested- Y/N has been fwb with her older neighbor, and finds herself pregnant ( angst to fluff )

The line between love and hate- requested - Eddie and Y/N hate each other, but that doesn't stop them from constantly hooking up. ( Angst to fluff )

Hairspray - requested - Steve believes Eddie is sneaking into his house to steal....but he's there for his sister?

His gift🎄 - requested - Eddie and his best friend exchange gifts for Christmas, Y/N plans to admit her feelings ( angst? Fluff, smut )

Oh neighbor - requested - Eddie can't keep his eyes or hands off his young neighbor ( fluff, smut, angst? )

Billy's daughter - requested - Y/N needs a job and finds herself crushing on her manager. They flirt, they sleep together, and like each other. But fear takes over when Eddie finds out who she is.

Shy game - requested - Y/N and Eddie are too shy to talk to each other. Their friends try their best to make it happen ( fluff )

Hideout jealousy - requested- Y/N finds herself jealous when she feels Eddie is into another girl

Work crush - requested - Eddie falls for his younger coworker. A holiday party brings them together

Rich girl, poor boy- requested - Eddie and Y/N introduce each other's families, not knowing the downfall it'll cause ( angst to fluff )

The mother of it all- Eddie finds himself crushing on his girlfriend's mom ( angst, fluff, smut. ⚠️age gap, perv!Eddie, Eddie is legal (18) reader is 35 )

If the van is shaking, don't come knocking- requested - Eddie finds himself jealous over the jocks who flirt with his girlfriend ( smut )

Love vs popularity - requested - Y/N Harrington falls for Eddie, a relationship that puts her relationship with Steve on the rocks ( angst to fluff )

Young girls and trust don't mix- requested - Eddie falls in love with a younger fan, and Wayne is suspicious ( angst to fluff )

Rockstar baby- requested - Eddie's one night stand leads to a future of parenthood

Dustin's babysitter - Eddie catches himself having the hots for Dustin's babysitter

Rockstar love- requested - Y/N finds herself opening for the one and only Eddie Munson. But he isn't what she expected him to be....in the worst way possible ( angst, smut, fluff )

Cheerleader Cupid - requested - Y/N has a crush on Eddie but doesn't know how to say it. So she wrote it

Daddy- requested - Y/N gets drunk and lets a little nickname slip ( fluff, tiny smut)

Cute but an asshole - requested - Y/N's dad is best friends with Eddie, and she cannot stand him. Until she's drunk and needs a ride home ( angst to fluff )

No cash, no problem -Y/N can't afford to pay Eddie for the night, but he has a different payment in mind ( smut, milf reader! X babysitter! Eddie)

Billy x Eddie x reader headcanon

Scared?- requested - Y/N and Eddie watch a new horror film. Eddie assumed Y/N needed the protection, but maybe he did. ( Older Eddie )

Weekend nights - requested - Eddie doesn't get along with his neighbor, Y/N Hargrove. Eddie has enough and confronts the issue ( older Eddie, smutty)

Project?- requested - Y/N and Steve are paired for a project and it sends Eddie in a spiral

The look- requested - Y/N finds her boyfriend and Chrissy talking, and she sees a look in Eddie's eyes that breaks her apart

Wingman vs wingwoman- requested- Max wants to set up her babysitter with Eddie. And Dustin wants to set up Eddie with his student council president

Dustin's friend- requested- Y/N Henderson has been keeping a secret from her brother

Who's your girlfriend?- requested - Eddie let's a girl get too friendly with him and Y/N doesn't take it well

2 boyfriends 1 girlfriend - requested- Billy doesn't realize how badly he's hurting his girlfriend until Eddie makes him

Wrong Cunningham - requested - Y/N likes Eddie but he likes her sister, so where does that leave her?

Don't yell- requested - Eddie makes the mistake of yelling at his girlfriend

To die for- requested - Y/N is a quite nerd who falls for the popular Eddie Munson, it turns sour when she asks him out in front of his friends. Then the upside down turns everything around

Wrong name - requested - Eddie wants to be set up with Y/N, but Dustin thought Y/N liked Steve

Daddy's girl- requested - Y/N knows her dad and Eddie have a bad past so she keeps them apart. But Eddie likes to cause trouble

Push away- requested- Eddie likes to run when he starts to feel

Tutor Turor- requested- Y/N is new to school, and becomes Eddie's tutor. He wants to ask her out but he has to pass a test first

Bedtime whispers - requested - Eddie thought Y/N was asleep when he confessed his love. After she heard it all, she wanted to hear more.

Lose it all for something more? - requested - Eddie and Y/N have been together for 6 months, but a certain cheerleader won't leave Eddie's mind

College boys - requested - Eddie is older than his girlfriend, he gets insecure when the young college boys want a taste of her. Instead of lashing out, he fucked her until he was the only thing on her mind ( ⚠️smut )

Happy again because of you- older rockstar Eddie x nanny reader (⚠️smut)

Friends? Or something more?- requested - Eddie feels like he's losing his girlfriend to Steve

Wrong story- Y/N has a crush on her teacher, filled with inappropriate thoughts she needs a release. So she writes it out...and accidentally sends it to him. (⚠️ Smut)

The first time - requested - Y/N is an inexperienced virgin and nervous for the next step. But she's ready for her and Eddie's first year anniversary (older Eddie ) (⚠️ smut)

She's different - requested - Eddie is known as the hideout fuck boy, but then he meets a girl that changed it all

A bit of daddy's help- requested - Y/N has been pregnant for too long and she needs Eddie's help to induce labor (⚠️ smut)

Frenemies - requested - Eddie and Reader have a weird relationship. They hate each other but still protect each other

Her attention - requested - Eddie is a simp for his girlfriend and wants her attention 24/7

No words - requested - Eddie falls for the new quiet girl ( deaf! Reader )

The friend- requested- Eddie is in love with his best friend, and when an opportunity knocked, he took it

All grown-up- requested- Eddie and Y/N are enemies with benefits until she finds out she is pregnant

The older woman - requested - Eddie is crushing on his hot older neighbor

His smell- requested - Eddie reads that a pregnant woman's smell can change and dislike the smell of their me

Both of you- requested- Chrissy and Eddie finally get together, but where does Y/N fit?

Baby talk - requested - Y/N finds out she's pregnant, and worried for Eddie's reaction

Runaway girl- requested - Steve doesn't realize what he has until she's Eddie's

Hawkins Princess - requested - Eddie is shocked to see the Hawkins princess in dentition, even more shocked that they seemed to get along

Gomez and Morticia - requested - blurb based on Gomez and Morticia

Daddy issues- requested- Y/N meets Eddie at a bar, turns out they have more in common than she thought

Poking- requested - Eddie doesn't want to have sex with his wife because of the baby ( fluff )

Ring thief - requested- Eddie and his partner always switch up rings (gn!reader)

Bet on me- requested - Eddie finds himself in a bet...but falls in love in the process

Prom dress- requested - Eddie doesn't know how to express his feelings so he drives the girl he likes away

A quiet place blurb

To believe in him- requested - Y/N came from a very religious background, and her parents don't accept her relationship with Eddie ( older Eddie )

Stutter- requested - Y/N Henderson is back in Hawkins, and she talks to her crush Eddie Munson. She begins to stutter with all the nerves, leading Eddie to think she's no good (angst to fluff )

Involved - requested - Y/N is a single mom who falls for Eddie. She lets her secret out and Eddie steps back ( angst to fluff )

3? Give me four- requested - Steve admits he's slept with Eddie's girlfriend in the past. Making Eddie feel like he needs to prove himself (smut)

Pick me, choose me, love me- requested - Eddie gets a girlfriend and it puts a strain on his friendship with his best friend. A fight breaks out and Y/N learns the truth ( angst ) part 2

Around her finger- Even though Eddie is older than his girlfriend, he's wrapped around her finger (smut)

Rebounds - requested - Eddie doesn't know his relationship was based on a rebound

Secret girlfriend- requested- The Hellfire boys had no idea their master had a girlfriend

Our secret- Dilf! Eddie x daughters friend reader!

Dungeons and Revenge - Eddie finds out the new guy in Hellfire is his ex's new boyfriend

Rumor has it- requested- A rumor spreads around the school that Eddie and Y/N are sleeping together. It gains popularity for Eddie, but the opposite for Y/N

Different- requested- Eddie falls for Dustin's alternative cousin

Runaway daddy- requested- Eddie runs when he finds out he is going to be a dad

Tickets to Con - requested - Y/N has tickets to a con, but no one will take the extra ticket, until her best friend and crush step up

No PDA- requested - Gareth is worried Eddie's girlfriend isn't into him

Parenting class- requested- Eddie and Y/N don't get along until they are partnered to raise a fake baby

Alone time- requested- Eddie loves his daughter, but he craves alone time with his wife

Dad's promise- requested- Eddie is on tour but he left his pregnant wife with one promise- he will be at the birth

Scary Sheriff- requested- Eddie has a crush on Hopper's daughter, and Hopper tends to scare Eddie off

Not her, you- requested- Y/N is used to people asking out her best friend, so when Eddie shows interest in her she thinks it's to get to Chrissy

Faithfully- requested- song by Journey

Crushing on Billy Hargrove - requested - Eddie finds out his girlfriend used to like Billy Hargrove, and now he's insecure

Red nose and smile- requested- Killer Clown Eddie au (smut)

To be loved- requested- Eddie falls in love with his best friend

Apologies - requested - Eddie won't pay attention to his girlfriend, lashing out as he called her clingy. Now he's on his knees to make it up to her ( smut )

DL- requested - Y/N is worried she isn't good enough for Eddie, resulting in her keeping their relationship a secret

Criminal love- Y/N visits her dad all the time at work, usually to deliver donuts but a certain prisoner catches her eye

Lady death- requested- The gang encounters death, but Eddie has a different reaction than the rest

To be ready- requested- Eddie is ready for his relationship to be public, but Y/N is not

Halloween night- requested- Y/N overhears Eddie's friend's disappointment in the new Halloween plans and fears Eddie thinks the same

Caught- requested- Wayne catches Eddie and Y/N in the act

Runaway Bride - requested - Eddie makes a decision that felt right in the moment. Years later, he realized he was wrong

Watching you- requested - Eddie is on the run from Jason, finding an escape in the girls locker room. Turns out he wasn't alone ( perv Eddie )

Beach fun - requested - Alone at the beach, Eddie gets the idea of some naughty fun- boob sucking

[werepuppy-steve]

steddie ☆ G ☆ wc: 682 ☆ cw: teen dads

a little snippet from my teen dads au: tiny hands, little feet

The bell on the counter dings. Steve tilts his head back with a sigh and gives Robin a sidelong look across the table.

"Nope," she says, flipping through the only magazine they have in the place. They can probably recite the whole issue from memory by now. "I got the last three people. Go work your Harrington charm so I can add another 'you suck' tally."

The bell dings again and Steve groans, kicking Robin's foot as he rounds the table and opens the door leading behind the counter.

The lobby is empty. Great, they're getting ding-dong-ditch'd now. Fan-fucking-tastic.

He rolls his eyes and is about to snatch the bell off the counter and hide it when a tiny hand reaches up and taps it again. Steve holds back a snort, because he knows that tiny hand.

He steps up to the counter and sure enough, there stands a toddler with wild chestnut curls pulled into little pigtails, wearing a pink My Little Pony t-shirt and bright blue shorts.

Steve glances around the lobby and doesn't see anybody else in sight, which means...

He puts on his best customer service voice and gives the girl a smile. "Ahoy there, little lady. How'd you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with with me?"

Of course, she doesn't completely understand any of that. She just blinks up at him and points at the pictures of ice cream.

"St'awb'y, p'ease."

Steve nods. "A wise choice, m'lady." He slides the cooler open and gives his scoop a twirl, making her giggle.

The door opens and Robin slowly peeks her head out, looking flabbergasted. "Who in the world are you talking to? Why are you talking like that?"

"Careful, Buckley," Steve nods towards the child. "There's a princess in our midst. Wouldn't want her to throw you in the dungeon for disrespect."

Robin looks at the tiny child who is watching Steve with rapt attention.

"I think she's more interested in the ice cream, actually."

Steve gasps as he puts a couple scoops into a small bowl. "Hearsay, Buckley. She'll have your head for that." He takes the bowl around the counter and kneels on one knee as if he's a knight, presenting it to her with a bowed head. "The finest strawberry ice cream in all the land, your highness."

She claps her hands and her shoes light up as she stomps her feet. "St'aw'by! T'ank, Da'y!"

Robin's eyes widen and her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. "Daddy?"

"Sailor!"

Eddie Munson comes sliding into the lobby, his shoes squeaking on the waxed floor. He catches himself before he face plants and gasps like he's ran here from the other side of the mall.

"Sailor, honey, you can't run off like that!" he says around gulps of air. "About gave me a heart attack."

Steve picks the child up and scrunches his nose. "I think it might be time to give those backpack leashes a try," he tells him. "She's getting too curious for her own good."

"Wayne said I did the same thing at her age. Said it used to drive my mama crazy, trying to keep track of me." Sailor's chin is sticky with ice cream and Eddie wipes some of it off with his thumb. "You're taking after your old man a little too much, bug."

Sailor holds out her spoon. "Da'y try?"

Eddie can only huff a laugh and shake his head fondly. "Thank you, baby." He leans forward to take a bite of the offered ice cream and then turns to Steve to give him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I swear I had a hold on her. She saw the Scoops sign and then took off before I could catch her."

Steve sighs. "It looks like we're gonna have a little Road Runner on our hands."

"She definitely takes after you in that department, sweetheart," Eddie grins.

A throat clearing interrupts them and they both look at where Robin has been silently watching the three of them.

"Someone care to fill me in on all of this?"

more snippets from this au

taglist: @yournowheregirl @judasofsuburbia @steves-strapcollection @thefreakandthehair @stobinesque @tboygareth @starrystevie @inairbinad @flowercrowngods @starryeyedjanai @matchingbatbites @corrodedbisexual @theheadlessphilosopher @sidekick-hero @patchworkgargoyle @sentient-trash @wormdebut @legitcookie @corrodedcoughin @steddieas-shegoes @wynnyfryd

[justmeinadaze]

BBY YES. I’m a curvy girl too and MY GAWD boxer daddy dom losing a match or having a rough match and taking it out on the reader is just *chefs kiss* boxer Steve has NO issue lifting us plus size girlies and taking us against a wall 🤤 I just love your writing and I think you doing boxer Steve would be AMAZING

In Your Corner (Boxer Steve X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: Boxer Steve invaded my dreams and now consumes my waking life. Fuck I need him. Lol.

I hope I did your ask justice!

Warnings: Daddy Dom Boxer Steve and Plus Size Sub Reader and all that implies (I regret nothing!), SMUT and angst, hella dirty talk, degradation (slightly), spanking, choking, pinching, rough play for sure, there's no details of the fight but there are mentions of the aftermath, slight bullying at the beginning with Steve's friends. I think that's it.

Word Count: 4449

Steve’s eyes focused on his coach in front of him as he danced around the man preparing to swing. You absolutely loved watching him train right before a fight. He was always dedicated to the craft but he became more determined right before and the passion drove you wild. 

When you both attended high school together, he always seemed like a douchebag with his “King Steve” status. You ran in a different circle, which was mostly any circle that wasn’t the popular kids. They always found ways of making fun of you because you had a little more meat on your bones than they did. You did take note at the time that Steve never taunted you with them but he never stopped them either. 

“Fuck off, Steve Harrington.”

“Hey, would you just relax?! I just wanted to come apologize for Tommy and them. You’re not a pig and you’re definitely not ugly.”

“Wow, thanks for that. Now I can die happy. If you will excuse me, I have to go find my journal and put our initials together in hearts.”

As you turned to walk away, his hand shot out to grip your arm, tugging you back towards the concrete wall. 

“Would you wait a minute! I’m…I’m trying to tell you something here. I…I’m not like them. I want to get to know you better.”

Your sarcastic laugh lights a fire in his eyes that you would later come to fall in love with. 

“Steven, whether you like it or not, you are exactly like them. You laugh along with them and don’t stop them from being mean to people. You hang out with them and give them your time like they matter. I imagine your dad is the same with colleagues; pretending that he cares about stupid, menial bullshit just to fit in.”

His head ticked to the side at your comparison to his father as you stepped closer to his towering frame. 

“You want to get to know me better? Become a real man and stand up for yourself. BE yourself.”

After that moment, he completely changed, disconnecting from his friends, and focusing on other things. You found him in the library a few times scanning certain books or at the computer looking up videos. After graduation, he disappeared before finally resurfacing a year later at a party one of your old high school friends was hosting. 

At the time, you had a date on your arm but as soon as Steve entered the room it was like no one was there except for you and him. His smile was brighter and he had a lot more muscle than you remember him having especially in his arms. When his beautiful brown irises met yours, you knew it was all over. You’d do anything for him, all he had to do was ask. You tried playing coy, you really did; smirking salaciously in his direction or crossing and uncrossing your legs a bit wider than normal to display the red silk panties underneath. 

When all he would do in return is tilt his head and grin at you, it riled you up, huffing as you stomped away to the bathroom. Before you could do anything about it, Steve followed you in, attaching his lips to yours as he quite literally ripped your panties of your body. You marveled at his strength as he lifted you onto the bathroom counter and sunk his admittedly large cock into your cunt. 

“Oh my god, Steve. So—f-fuck—so deep.”

“Fuck, baby. Your pussy is just making a mess, you’re so wet.” He grabbed your hair and forced you look between your bodies. “Look at how you just fucking coat my dick.” Once he felt like you had gotten a good enough look, he pressed your face into his shoulder as he thrust his hips faster into yours. “That’s right, honey. Fucking—mmm—fucking hold on to Daddy while I make you cum.”

Your pussy clenched tighter around him at the name and he grunted at the feeling. 

“Yeah? You like that, pretty girl? God, you feel so fucking good. Cum on Daddy’s cock, Y/N.”

Your nails dug into the shirt on his back as the coil snapped and you whimpered into his chest. 

“That’s it, baby. Good girl. Such a good girl coming hard like that.”, he murmured. One of his palms landed flat beside you as the other clung to your lower back as rolled his hips. “Fuck—I’m gonna cum inside you.”

Steve wasn’t asking; he was telling you what he was about to do and at that moment you really didn’t care. The hand on the counter flew up to grip your throat, pushing you back against the mirror as he roughly pumped his seed into your body.

When he released you from his hold and helped clean you up, you half expected him to leave you there alone in the bathroom, walking back out into the party as a satisfied man. Instead, he took your hand and guided you towards his BMW offering to buy you dinner. 

That night he told you where he had been and what he had been up to. Steve left Hawkins to train and study boxing. You couldn’t help but giggle, knowing this was the same kid who lost almost every fight in school. He smirked in your direction as if he could read your mind and invited you to his next fight which was just outside of town. 

Watching him up there as he fought was a unique experience to be sure. He changed before your eyes into this more confident, determined man as he focused on his opponent and swung his arms. After winning, you brought him back to your apartment where you two barely even made it in the door before you were climbing on top of him.

“Can I ask you something?”, you asked and he answered with a soft but exhausted hm. “What triggered this? What made you say, ‘I’m going to leave Hawkins and get hit in the face for a living’?”

Steve rolled onto his side to face you as he reached out to brush some stray hair out of your face. 

“Short answer…you.”

“And the long answer?”

“When you compared me to my dad and talked about me trying to impress those other assholes, it triggered something in me. I definitely don’t want to become my dad and I hated the way you looked at me when you said I was just like those other kids. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I did some research and came across boxing. Y/N, you have no idea how liberating it was for me when I threw that first punch and hit the bag in front of me.”

Your fingers tenderly caressed his face as his own hand slid down your back to bring you closer to him. 

“I always thought about you. I told myself whenever I came back here my first goal was to find you and FINALLY get to know you better.”, he chuckled.

You smiled as you blushed as his words. “What if I had been with someone!?”

“Pfft. Then I would fight him.” Steve leaned back and pretended to box the air making you laugh.

“Or what if I saw you and I was like ‘Ew. Look at the god-awful Steve Harrington! With the muscles and the pretty hair. Ugh!” His lips cut you off mid-cackled as he rolled his body on top of yours. 

“Then I’d fight for you. You’re mine, pretty girl.” The way his eyes were penetrating yours had you shiver at the intensity. His face hovered as his nose grazed the tip of your own. “Can you say it for me, honey?”, he whispered, your eyes fluttering closed as he trailed kisses down to your neck. 

“I belong to you.”, you moaned as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“Mmm…you belong to who, baby girl?”

“I belong to Daddy.”

Three years had passed since then and you couldn’t be happier or prouder of everything Steve had accomplished. Next Friday was supposed to be a big fight. If he won, it would lead to more eyes on him which in turn would lead to more revenue. 

“Hey, Y/N. How are you doing today, angel.”

“I’m good, Jimmy. How are you?”, you beam at his coach. 

“Oh, never better, baby. Never better.” As you climb up the ropes to hang over the ring, Steve hastily runs over to you as he pulls off one of his gloves and helps you into the area. “Do you want some gloves, missy? Give Steve here some real competition.”

You giggle as your boyfriend tilts your head up for a kiss. “God, no. He’d knock me out in a second.”

“What’s the matter, honey? Scared?”, Steve teases. 

You playfully glare at him as Jimmy brings you some gloves that are your size and places you across from him. You both do the gloved fist bump you’ve seen him do with opponents numerous times and take your stance. 

Steve smirks as you circle around each other and after a few moments you take your first swing that he swiftly blocks. Both your moves at each other are light and joking, not in any way meant to harm. 

“That’s good, baby girl. You have to twist your arm a bit more.” You concentrate as he shows you the move and once you follow through, he claps his gloves together making you smile with pride. “That’s my girl!”

You grin as you fall into his chest and he pretends to fall over bringing you down with him. 

“Let’s hope you do better than that on Friday, yeah?”, Jimmy asks as Steve nods. “Alright, I’m out of here. Harrington, I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon for our last training session and talk strategy for the fight, alright?”

“Thanks, Jim!”

“You are…disgustingly sweaty.”

Steve turns his attention back to you as you lean forward to grab his wrists and remove his gloves. 

“Yet you’re still on top of me.”

“I’m doing it to hide the gigantic erection in your shorts right now.”, you whisper.

“Hey, it’s not my fault when you walk into the room, I get all hot and bothered.” Once his hands are free, he rests one on your thigh as the other comes up to caress your cheek. “Did you have a good day today?”

“I did. My boss was only half an idiot today.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to talk to him?”

“Yes, Daddy. I’m sure.” You grin leaning down so your lips are just above his own. “I can handle one stupid, ignorant man.”

“I know you can, sweetheart. I just hate the way he talks to you. He better hope he doesn’t say any bullshit in front of me.”

“Oh, big tough Daddy. I like it.” 

Steve smiles as his hand glides to the back of your neck and roughly brings your face closer to his. “You know you love when Daddy takes care of you.”

You bite your bottom lip as he begins grinding hips up against your own. 

“Do you wanna take care of Daddy while he takes a shower? Say it.”, he commands when you nod your head.

“I want to take care of you. Please, Daddy. Let me help you relax.”

His grin grows as you both rise to your feet and he helps you down from the ring. As soon as his feet touch the floor, he lifts you into his arms, and you giggle as he carries you into the empty locker room. 

############

The night of the fight came and Steve was more than ready. You stayed by his side until exactly an hour before he was meant to exit to the ring, kissing his lips before hugging him tightly to you. 

“Good luck, baby. You got this.”

He curtly nodded as you gave him one last comforting smile. You understood he had a process and this was usually how he was before a fight. He was zoned in and prepared, ready to take on the world. 

As the ushers walked you to your seat in the front, you froze when you saw who was sitting beside you. 

“Hey, Y/N! How are you, sweetheart?”, Mrs. Harrington cooed as she got to her feet to give you a hug. 

“I’m…I’m good. What are you two doing here?”

“This is a big fight, right? I don’t know why my son didn’t invite us. ‘You can watch it on TV he says.’”, Mr. Harrington rolls his eyes.

As the announcer began to speak, you panickily looked around, trying to figure out what you should do. He never had his phone on him on nights like this and the match was about to start so you couldn’t go back to the locker room. 

Please don’t let him notice them.

Steve entered the ring with his usual bout of confidence that made you swoon. You continued to pray as you watched them introduce him and rattle off some of his stats. His eyes found yours for a moment before he looked beside you. Your heart shattered into a million pieces when you watched this version of him and the high school version have their own fight within his beautiful, brown orbs as they noticed his father. 

When his focus shifted back to you, you silently mouthed that you loved him, and again he nodded before the match finally began. 

***

Steve angrily stalked into the apartment you two shared and headed for the kitchen, grabbing a glass, and filling it with the hardest liquor there was. Your eyes carefully watched him as he moved about, finally stomping outside onto the patio, and lighting a cigarette. 

Nights after a lost match were always the worst, you never knew how he was going to behave. Sometimes he would do like he had just done and sit outside for hours smoking and drinking till he passed out on the furniture. Other times, he would take that anger out on you and you allowed it. You allowed him to be rough with you in bed till you both were fully spent. Even when he was upset, he needed to make you feel good to. 

More than anything you just hated how hard he was on himself. He always gave 110% in everything he did but it wasn’t enough for him. If he lost at something he was a failure and there was nothing you could say or do to make him feel otherwise. 

Normally, you left him to his thoughts but you couldn’t do that tonight. You knew he was in a lot of pain, not just physically but emotionally as well. Slowly, you stepped outside and tiptoed to the other chair that was next to him. 

Steve was leaning back lazily with his legs stretched all the way out as he held the cold glass to the bandage just above his eye. Occasionally, he brought the cigarette to his busted lip before dangling it back over the arm of the patio chair. 

“Baby…”

“Go away, Y/N.”

You heavily exhale as you try again. “Sweetheart, you did really well. Don’t let your dad or anyone else make you feel like you didn’t do a good job.” As you spoke, he casually got up, tossing his cigarette, and walked back inside. “There will be other fights like this one.”

“Y/N, I’m only going to say it one more time. Get…away…from…me.”

“No.” His head leaned to the side at your answer. “Baby, everything’s going to be okay.”

Steve sarcastically chuckled, taking another sip of his drink before abruptly raising his arm and violently throwing his glass against the adjacent wall. 

“You wanna play, baby girl. Let’s play. First off, fuck you. Don’t stand there and pretend like you understand anything when it comes to boxing or my job, alright? You are my girlfriend not my coach or my manager. Your job is to stand by my side and shut the fuck up while I do what I need to do.”

Oh, that’s how he wants to play tonight? He had just entered another ring and you were the challenger. He needed to spar with you and he knew you were a worthy opponent. You knew how to challenge him and you didn’t take his attitude or temper lying down. He needed you to put him in his place so he could properly put you in yours. 

“Secondly, we needed this fucking win tonight. You like this apartment, the pool, that fucking outfit you’re wearing? All of that cost money, Y/N.”

“I see…so this is all my fault? I’m the one that wants expensive things apparently? I’m not some gold-digging trophy wife, Steve. I work and I help pay for things around here. I have never once asked you to buy me anything extravagant because I don’t fucking need it. And yes, I am your girlfriend but I actually fucking listen to you when you talk. You will have more fights. If you wanted a girl who would be silent and just swipe your credit card, you should have looked somewhere else!”

He fumed as you yelled at him, his fists clenching by his side as he listened and his angry eyes never leaving yours. You pointed your finger in his face as you stepped closer to him. 

“You can blame me all you want, Steve Harrington, but you needed to win that fight for you and your fucking ego.”

“Take off your dress.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said…take off your dress. You don’t need these nice things anymore? That’s fine. I can return that and the other fancy things I bought you. Tomorrow when I wake up, I can go look for one of those studio apartments for you so you can move in there.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I don’t need you to help me look. I can find a new Daddy on my own who won’t act like a fucking baby.”

There it is. That particular look in his eyes that tells you he’s in the right headspace. He may not look like he’s in control to any outsider looking in but you’ve been in love with his man for three years. You knew. 

You two stared at each other for a few seconds before you turned and bolted to the bedroom. You could hear him hot on your tail before he practically tackled you onto the bed. Your hands tried to push against him but he was too strong, straddling your waist as he pinned your wrists to the mattress. 

“You want to find a new Daddy? HUH?!”, he screamed in your face. “You think someone else can take care of you as well as I have?” Steve shifted your hands so he could hold them with one of his own he climbed off you and reached under your dress to bring down your panties. A couple of his fingers roughly slid into your core as he set a brutal pace. 

“Little girl always talks a big game but when we get down to it, you’re always still so fucking wet for me.” Your eyes squeezed shut as you moaned, still trying to fight against hold but not wanting him to let go. You buck your hips but it just pushes him to be rougher as he curls his fingers inside of you. “There you go, baby. That’s the spot right there, right? Daddy knows. I know every fucking inch of your body and how to please you. You think anyone else can make you cum like I do?”

His palm released your wrists and quickly slid down your throat, gripping it just so between his thick fingers as he watched your eyes roll back. Your hands feebly reach for anything they can, settling on taking hold of his knee. Steve always made sure to have some part of his body near you that way if you couldn’t speak but felt like you needed to tap out you could. 

Just like with his boxing, he had rules and regimens in bed. He always wanted you to feel safe and gave you strict guidelines for how to get his attention should you need to. Three taps meant stop but right now all you were doing was grounding yourself as you focused on your own high. 

You whimpered, digging your nails into his skin as you came. While you laid there panting, he climbed over your limp frame and yanked off your dress. With hooded eyes you watched as he removed his clothes before tugging you to the edge of the mattress like a ragdoll and flipping you onto your stomach. 

His strength always amazed (and intimated) you. Being a bigger woman, you weren’t exactly light and all the men in your past never even bothered to try lifting you into their arms. When Steve did it that first night you were together, you were awe struck. More than anything, you swooned at the fact that he didn’t even hesitate; he just did it knowing he could.

The first time you questioned him about it he looked at you like you were speaking gibberish. 

“Honey, you’re not heavy.”

“Uh oh, I think you’ve been hit one too many times. You’re going blind.”, you giggle.

Steve grinned slightly before his face got serious. “Y/N, just because past relationships couldn’t handle a beautiful woman like you doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.”

“I know. I just…no one’s ever even bothered to try and lift me let alone everything else we do.”

He stepped forward and lifted your chin with his fingers. “You have a real man now, baby. You and your curves don’t scare me.”

You smile, lifting up on your toes to kiss his lips. “You don’t scare me either.”

His rough, calloused hands lifted your hips and spread your ass cheeks apart before his palm came down hard as he spanked you. You moaned when you felt him spit into your cunt before aggressively breaching your entrance with his cock. 

“Daddy!”

Steve’s arm came into view beside you as you felt him hover over you and begin rolling his hips. 

“You want to act like a fucking brat, I can…I can treat you like one.”, he grunted. “No more fucking dinners, fa-fancy clothes, fucking nothing! You—f-fuck—can just be Daddy’s toy. Huh? At least until you find your new Daddy who’s not a fucking baby.”

His fingers gripped your hair as he stood up and thrust into you so hard the bed shook underneath you.

Your eyes fluttered closed as he continually hit all the right places inside of you, overwhelming your senses. Tears began streaking your face as you felt the warmth build in your tummy again. He really was the only man that knew how to satisfy you. 

He noticed your lips moving but couldn’t hear what you were saying. Steve’s palm smacked your ass as he yanked you to your knees till your back was against his now sweaty chest. 

“What’s the rule?”, he growled “If you’re talking I…I need to fucking hear you. What were you saying?” When you don’t answer, he stops pumping into you before reaching down to pinch your clit between his fingers making you whine and try to pull away from him. “Answer me, little girl.”

Your head lazily falls back on his shoulder as you continue to cry. The hand that was in your hair loops around to your chin, turning your lips to his as he softly placed a kiss on them. 

“I love…you… Just want…you.”, you panted out as best you could. 

Steve released your nub from his grasp and wrapped his arm around you stomach as he began thrusting into you again. 

“Cum, baby. Cum for Daddy.” You laid your arms over his own, clinging to him as your body spasmed and you did as he commanded. “That’s my girl. Fuck… my beautiful girl.”

As he chased his high, you continued to try and whisper things in his ear. 

“MY…Daddy. No one could…make me…feel this good. I’m…oh my god… so proud of you, baby. Please…cum, Daddy. I need…need it.”

His hips began to sputter and he grips you tightly as he roughly pumps his release inside of you. You both were still like that for a while, trying to catch your breath as he held you. 

“I’m going to pull out now, ok?”, he whispered.

“Okay, Daddy.”

You winced as he cooed softly, placing feathery light kisses on your skin as he praised you. He detached from you for moment; long enough for you to hear the shower turn on before he was back by your side and lifting you into his arms. 

Steve wasted no time taking care of you as he cleaned your body and washed your hair. 

“I DO listen to you when you talk. One of the things I love about you is how passionate you about boxing. I remember in school you always seemed like, I don’t know, you were coasting by. On our first date, you told me about the maneuvers and explained things to me.”, you smile as you continued. “Your hands were moving a mile a minute and your eyes lit up. It was amazing.”

His fingers lightly gripped your shoulders as he turned you to face him. “I may not know everything about it, Steve, but I know you. I know there will be another fight and I know you’re going to win because you are the most dedicated man I’ve ever met. You’re not going to stop until you get where you want to be.”

He pulled you into his arms, pressing your cheek to his chest as he kissed the top of your head.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you and said all that stuff. I don’t really feel that way. I was just upset.”

“I know, baby.”

After turning off the water, he quickly grabs a towel, drying you both and guiding you back to bed. Steve grabs his boxers and throws one of his big, baggy shirts over your head making you laugh. 

“I love that you speak your mind and challenge me. Hell, if you hadn’t done that in school, I never would have gotten into boxing.”

“I’m so proud of you, Steve. I really am. Whether you win or lose, buy me fancy things or give me gifts from the dollar store…” Your smile grows as he laughs and kneels down in front of you, laying his head on your thighs as you gently pet his head. “I’m always going to be in your corner.”

[puppy-steve]

steddie | G | wc: 682 | teen dads

a little snippet from my teen dads au: tiny hands, little feet

The bell on the counter dings. Steve tilts his head back with a sigh and gives Robin a sidelong look across the table.

“Nope,” she says, flipping through the only magazine they have in the place. They can probably recite the whole issue from memory by now. “I got the last three people. Go work your Harrington charm so I can add another ‘you suck’ tally.”

The bell dings again and Steve groans, kicking Robin’s foot as he rounds the table and opens the door leading behind the counter.

The lobby is empty. Great, they’re getting ding-dong-ditch’d now. Fan-fucking-tastic.

He rolls his eyes and is about to snatch the bell off the counter and hide it when a tiny hand reaches up and taps it again. Steve holds back a snort, because he knows that tiny hand.

He steps up to the counter and sure enough, there stands a toddler with wild chestnut curls pulled into little pigtails, wearing a pink My Little Pony t-shirt and bright blue shorts.

Steve glances around the lobby and doesn’t see anybody else in sight, which means…

He puts on his best customer service voice and gives the girl a smile. “Ahoy there, little lady. How’d you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with with me?”

Of course, she doesn’t completely understand any of that. She just blinks up at him and points at the pictures of ice cream.

“St'awb'y, p'ease.”

Steve nods. “A wise choice, m'lady.” He slides the cooler open and gives his scoop a twirl, making her giggle.

The door opens and Robin slowly peeks her head out, looking flabbergasted. “Who in the world are you talking to? Why are you talking like that?”

“Careful, Buckley,” Steve nods towards the child. “There’s a princess in our midst. Wouldn’t want her to throw you in the dungeon for disrespect.”

Robin looks at the tiny child who is watching Steve with rapt attention.

“I think she’s more interested in the ice cream, actually.”

Steve gasps as he puts a couple scoops into a small bowl. “Hearsay, Buckley. She’ll have your head for that.” He takes the bowl around the counter and kneels on one knee as if he’s a knight, presenting it to her with a bowed head. “The finest strawberry ice cream in all the land, your highness.”

She claps her hands and her shoes light up as she stomps her feet. “St'aw'by! T'ank, Da'y!”

Robin’s eyes widen and her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “Daddy?”

“Sailor!”

Eddie Munson comes sliding into the lobby, his shoes squeaking on the waxed floor. He catches himself before he face plants and gasps like he’s ran here from the other side of the mall.

“Sailor, honey, you can’t run off like that!” he says around gulps of air. “About gave me a heart attack.”

Steve picks the child up and scrunches his nose. “I think it might be time to give those backpack leashes a try,” he tells him. “She’s getting too curious for her own good.”

“Wayne said I did the same thing at her age. Said it used to drive my mama crazy, trying to keep track of me.” Sailor’s chin is sticky with ice cream and Eddie wipes some of it off with his thumb. “You’re taking after your old man a little too much, bug.”

Sailor holds out her spoon. “Da'y try?”

Eddie can only huff a laugh and shake his head fondly. “Thank you, baby.” He leans forward to take a bite of the offered ice cream and then turns to Steve to give him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, I swear I had a hold on her. She saw the Scoops sign and then took off before I could catch her.”

Steve sighs. “It looks like we’re gonna have a little Road Runner on our hands.”

“She definitely takes after you in that department, sweetheart,” Eddie grins.

A throat clearing interrupts them and they both look at where Robin has been silently watching the three of them.

“Someone care to fill me in on all of this?”

buy me a ☕?