#steve harrington x transman!reader

[tomurderornottomurder]

teen dad; steve harrington

pair. steve harrington x ftm!reader

summ. steve gets reader pregnant and when reader needs him, steve's there for reader

gen. angst n fluff

tw. pregnancy, teen pregnancy, ftm pregnancy, mentions of violence, unsupportive family, birth scene (vague), coming out, probably messed up timeline (pretty vague tho)

wc. 1.5k

note. i haven't been able to write just about anything but this came to me last night and it felt good to write out. also like personally pregnancy n birth freak me out so idk where this came from??, expect a part 2, C/n = child name :)

To say things between you and Steve Harrington are complicated is an understatement. Freshman year you two were inseparable, hot on the hips, literally and figuratively. Always kissing in the halls, his arms wrapped around your waist, and your face buried in his neck. You were the 'it' couple of Hawkins High for a while. Then things went downhill. You two had your biggest falling out to date and didn't speak to each other for weeks; scathing stares across the lunchroom sent the message. And then, you discovered by some miracle you were pregnant! Only one man could be responsible and you knew it wasn't going to go well.

Steve was a lot quieter than you expected. You guess you couldn't really blame him, this was a big deal after all. You just expected more of an argument. He had asked if you were going to keep it though, and well, you didn't really know. You felt like he had taken the news a little too well or rather maybe he hadn't fully understood the severity of the situation.

Turns out, you did want the kid. Steve wasn't sure about it at first and you two had gotten into another fight over it. Steve had gotten over the fight at least -the child, his child was still something for him to process- and he came over with some flowers and other gifts, his form of an apology.

You two had tried to rekindle your relationship but it just wasn't there between your differing ideals at the time, your changing view on yourself, and Steve's blossoming feelings for Nancy. You couldn't really blame him, she seemed nice and she was gorgeous, and you, yourself, were starting to fancy someone else. 

You two were pretty distant after that, busy with your own lives among other things. The only thing that did seem to connect you anymore was your child. And Steve's fighting with otherworldly creatures and protecting other children seemed to really set his paternal instincts on fire.

Though you two had stayed distant and as awkward as Steve felt, he broke through it to at least help you buy stuff for the baby. His parents were pissed at the news, he explained to you as you both strolled down the baby aisle of the nearest department store (that was not in Hawkins), but they would help and would force him to as well. You chuckled at that and Steve found the noise quite fond to his ears.

Once (or maybe a few times, actually), he had found you trying to build baby furniture on your own. He would lean against the door frame watching you struggle only for some fleeting moments where you hadn't noticed him yet but then he'd get that ever-eating guilty feeling and he'd announce himself with a chuckle and take whatever you were working on out of your hands. He found himself reminded of why you had been together in the first place when you would endlessly protest about helping him with at least some of it, you had said. These times were few and far in-between.

To Steve's credit though, he was there at the hospital with you the whole time. It was a bit of a pain for him (which you would later laugh at), between dodging his friends' questions of where he was and your family who weren't particularly thrilled about his existence in general, it was a bit of hit or miss experience for him. To his eternal gratefulness, you were actually nice to him even while literally birthing your child, though you had been squeezing his hand so hard that even the nurses thought you might've broken it. (You did not). And it seemed Steve's presence, for you at least, seemed to make the experience better; from just having his hand to hold, to his kind of hilarious reaction to the actual birthing of the baby, he -when you weren't screaming or crying in pain- brought you some calm. Until he was handed the baby and nearly dropped it tripping over a cord. He left the baby-holding to you after that.

Steve had even spent the night much to your family's dismay but your gratitude. He wasn't exactly the best partner nor friend but you hoped, you really did as much as you would never admit it to anyone, that he would at least try to be a decent father. You, of course, understood he was a meathead and a teenager, and that he hadn't been the greatest guy freshman year but it seemed like he was changing. You just hoped it was for the better.

After some months, which had not been full of Steve liked you hoped only for the sake of your child, you had made a discovery about yourself. You had to admit how much sense it made. Alas, your family did not feel the same at all. They went even as far as calling both you and your child "Satan spawn" which later you would be able to laugh about. But for now, you stand outside your house in the middle of winter, your baby bundled up and strapped to your chest, watching as all of your stuff gets thrown out. You stand there for a good few minutes frozen in amazement before, without realizing, a torrent of tears stream down your face. You only had one place to go.

You hate this so so so much. God, your family could handle a pregnant teen but not a trans one? You scoff at the thought before swallowing what pride you had -minuscule now- and knocking on Steve's door. For some reason, you feel guilty like you shouldn't have said anything for your baby's sake and now you're about to lay it on your ex-boyfriend and the father of your kid and who knows how he'll react? Will he take your kid and shun you? Want to kill you both? Take pity on you but ignore your identity? Your impatient foot-tapping stills when the door opens.

If ever you were thankful for Steve's absent parents, it's now. You involuntarily sigh at his sight while he freaks out at yours, mainly cause you and his kid are out in the cold. Before words can be exchanged, he pulls you in by the shoulder. You sigh again at the warmth of the Harrington house.

Steve's hands are now on his hips and you can tell his mind is going a million miles an hour; it's one look of his you'll never forget. He's drawn back into the moment, his mouth moving before he can even speak. "I- What are you doing here? And when did you get a haircut?" He reaches up to touch your hair, "It's so short," He mumbles. It doesn't seem like he hates it, more just like he's surprised.

"Those are two very different questions," You point out and he seems dissatisfied. You look down at your feet before actually explaining yourself. You start out with the whole getting kicked out thing and soon enough he does it; he asks the question.

"Why?" He's bewildered. Your family definitely had been better than his about the pregnancy, so it couldn't be that, right? But what was it?

You sigh and drop your head. "You have to promise to me, no matter what, that after I tell you, you will still take care of C/n, alright?" You look up at him, holding out your pinky.

"A pinky swear, really?" His brows raise, looking at you.

"Just- Steve, please,"

"Alright, alright," He puts his hands up before hooking his pinky with yours, "I promise."

You pretty much guide him into his own kitchen, allowing yourself to sit, and having him sit across from you. You tell him that you're trans and he looks confused, even asks you what that is. You can't help your laugh, "Steve, you're making this-"

"Difficult?" He looks at you expectantly.

"No," You shake your head. "You're making it easy," You assure him. You go on to explain what exactly you being trans entails and he nods along almost too much but you blame that on your nerves. Eventually, you manage to ask, "So...?"

"So, what?" He looks straight back at you.

"Steve, you're not... mad? Or going to take C/n? Call the police? Beat me up?"

His face contorts in confusion, "No.. to all of those." His eyes meet yours and soften.

Silently, you stare at one another. Steve breaks eye contact first, getting out of his chair and walking to your side. This is it, you think, he's going to strangle me or steal C/n away. Some part of you feels like you deserve it and you freeze in place. A strange warmth fills you when Steve awkwardly maneuvers around your baby to wrap his strong arms around you in a gentle but firm embrace. You're so taken aback you don't even hug back until he whispers, "It's okay." He even runs his fingertips over the ends of your much shorter hair and says with a smile that you can just feel, "I like it. It looks really good." And with that ever intact charm of his, he adds, "You look so hot."

You snort and so does he.