#teen dad!Steve Harrington | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

supernovafics · 17 days ago

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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k words

summary: in which you and steve are not together, but sometimes— most of the time— you two find your way to each other. it all feels surprisingly okay until the guilt starts to sink in

warnings: explicit language, cheating (both reader and steve are cheating on their partners), implied smut, a bit of drunk!steve, a lot of angst

author’s note: i love when i get an idea and it consumes my brain so much that i simply cannot do anything except write it lol enjoy this thing that may or may not eventually get a part two<3 idk<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You were starting to feel bad about it. Not bad enough to stop it, but bad nonetheless.

In the end, when this inevitably blew up, a lot of people would be affected, but when you were alone with Steve you found it too hard to force yourself to care about all of that. When you two were alone in your car in the middle of the night or alone in his bedroom because his parents weren’t home, you never cared about just how terrible all of this was.

That was why it wasn’t until you were walking down the hallway hand in hand with your boyfriend and you spotted Steve and Nancy lingering by what you could only assume was her locker and she was smiling so happily up at him, that you finally felt a little bad.

You looked away quickly and pretended as if you hadn’t seen them in the first place; pushing his face and especially hers far out of your mind. Instead, you focused on Jamie and listened as he talked about a history test on Friday that he didn’t feel prepared for and how his parents would go ballistic if he didn’t pass. You promised to help him study later tonight— like you always did, from the moment you two met and became friends in seventh grade— and he smiled, leaning down to peck your lips as he called you the best.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You really didn’t like thinking about how everything started with Steve. In your head, you were okay with simplifying it to one day you weren’t cheating on your boyfriend with Steve Harrington and the next day you were. Somehow that thought process made it easier; it made what you and Steve were doing feel more mindless than it actually was.

But, just because you didn’t like thinking about the beginning didn’t change how it happened.

It was a New Year’s Eve party at Sam Richards' house.

You’d shown up alone because Jamie was out of town with family and had been since Christmas. Initially, you were supposed to go with them, but then at the last second, your parents decided to be festive and wanted you to be home for Christmas and the entirety of the holiday break. Weirdly enough, though, it hadn’t been as unbearable as you thought it would be.

However, you were on your own for New Year’s because your dad had a work party that was “adults only.” You honestly didn’t mind though because the thought of being stuck with a bunch of random middle-aged people sounded horrible. So, you instead decided to get stuck with a bunch of people your age, which maybe was just a different kind of bad.

You heard about the party through a friend of a friend who didn’t even show up. The party was rowdy and boring, which were two words that probably didn’t make sense in the same sentence, but in this instance they surprisingly did.

Eventually, you ended up sitting on the rusty old swing set in the backyard, away from the music and drunk teens. Your sneaker-covered feet pushed into the grass, making you swing a little. You didn’t want to do too much because, with the amount of squeaking the swing was making, it felt as if it was on its last few days of life.

Because of that squeaking and the fact that you were looking at the ground, you didn’t hear or see Steve walk up to you.

You noticed him when he was only a few feet away, and you were more confused than startled when he sat down in the open swing next to you.

“Two minutes to midnight.”

Those were not the first words Steve Harrington had ever said to you. Instead, those had been, “So what do we have to do?” after you two got paired up on a project for English last year. It was two weeks worth of meetups in the library that led to you two getting a B+ and never speaking again.

Until now, apparently.

“Fun,” You said because what else were you supposed to say? This entire moment didn’t really make a lot of sense to you.

You looked at Steve sitting next to you. The swing continued to squeak as he started lightly rocking back and forth. The second he met your gaze, you looked away.

“Where's your boyfriend? Jessie something, right?”

“Jamie,” You corrected him. “He's out of town with family for the holidays. Where's your girlfriend? Mary something?”

You knew it was Nancy. Everyone knew it was Nancy. They were the talk of the school and a cliche case— smart girl falling for the popular guy, also known as the plot to one too many romcoms.

For some reason, though, you didn’t want Steve to know that you inadvertently paid attention to him just like everyone else at your school.

“Nancy,” He corrected you. “And she’s also at some family thing.”

You only nodded in response and things became quiet.

“Y’know, apparently it’s bad luck to not kiss someone when the clock strikes twelve,” Steve said, filling the air of silence.

You ignored his random tidbit, which you weren’t sure was real or not. “Why did you come out here?”

His shoulders upturned in a quick shrug. “You looked bored out here. And I was bored in there.”

You could faintly hear the countdown start in the living room, everyone starting from sixty.

The next words that should have left your lips should’ve been, “I have a boyfriend. I can't kiss you.” But, instead, you didn’t protest when Steve silently took hold of the chain of your swing and pulled it toward him so that you two were closer.

You could’ve changed your mind and pushed him away, you should’ve changed your mind and pushed him away, but you decided not to think about it too much. When you heard the countdown get to one and everyone followed up by shouting, “Happy New Year!”, you were inwardly saying fuck it and kissing Steve Harrington in Sam Richards’ backyard.

It was meant to be innocent, a simple peck just so you both could avoid this “bad luck” that Steve talked about, and it was completely innocent and chaste at first. Until your hand impulsively found Steve's cheek and you deepened the kiss and he didn’t stop you.

He tasted like cigarettes and champagne, a surprisingly comforting combo, and his free hand moved to your waist, slipping underneath your coat and knit sweater. The feeling of his cold hand against your skin made you inadvertently shiver; you’d forgotten just how cold it was outside.

“Sorry,” He muttered against your lips.

It was the first word spoken in the last minute and it somehow managed to wake your mind up and made your thoughts finally start catching up to what was happening in this moment. You quickly realized that anyone could potentially see you two out here and even though the party inside sounded just as loud and lively as it had earlier, it was still a possibility that you two could get caught.

You pulled back from the kiss and met Steve’s gaze. “We can’t do this here.”

It was the ‘here’ part of your sentence that fully piqued Steve’s interest.

He stood up from the swing and reached his hand out for you to grab. “Come on.”

You slipped your hand in his and let him lead you out of the backyard and away from the house completely. It took you way too long to realize that he was taking you to his car that was parked down the street. He pulled the backseat door open and let you get inside first.

You forced yourself not to think about anything aside from how good Steve’s mouth felt on yours and how you liked feeling his cold hands against your skin, traveling from your hips to your waist to your back and pulling you closer to him.

Seconds blended into minutes and you suddenly weren’t sure how long you’d been in his backseat and how long you had kept nearly bumping your head against the roof every time you slightly shifted in his lap.

It didn’t make sense to you how okay this all felt. You hadn’t spoken more than a handful of words to Steve since last year, and yet you felt entirely comfortable with him right here in this moment.

It didn’t make sense that night and it also didn’t make sense the one after that when you saw him again and you two did a lot more than just make out in the backseat of his car.

However, what did feel certain was the fact that everything suddenly happening between you two wasn’t meant to be anything more. You knew that you and Steve wouldn’t make sense in the daytime or in the real world. He made sense with Nancy and you made sense with Jamie. That was just the way things worked and both of you unspokenly agreed on that.

It was only in private when you two surprisingly did make sense, and in some ways, it felt like a no-brainer. Of course, you’d see Steve most nights and during fleeting moments at school. Of course, you’d kiss or do more with him for what felt like hours in his house or your own car. Of course, you’d feel comfortable in his bed with his arms wrapped around you as you two ended up talking about nothing for hours.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You found the note in your locker halfway through third period. You asked your History teacher if you could go to the bathroom and then you headed to your locker instead of the bathrooms that were in the opposite direction because you just knew that something would be in it.

Meet me. Bathroom. – Steve

The first time he sent a note that basically resembled that one, you laughed because how the hell were you supposed to know what bathroom he meant or when?

And that was exactly what you told him that night when you two were in your car and he playfully pouted at you, asking why he didn’t get to see you at school. And then he let out a soft “Oh” with his own laugh when he realized that you were right and he didn’t tell you where to go or give you a time.

From there on out, the bathroom by the gym became your and Steve's meeting place. It was usually always empty because most people opted for using the bathrooms in the gym locker rooms since they were bigger.

After the first few times you met him there, there was really no reason for Steve to leave notes for you because the place and time was always the same, but you still kind of liked that he did.

When you walked in at the start of sixth period instead of going to study hall, Steve was already leaning against the sink.

He smiled when he saw you and you couldn’t help but think that that was the same smile that he’d been giving Nancy earlier; it was the same one he probably always gave her, his girlfriend.

There was no greeting; no softly spoken “Hi’s” or anything. Instead, Steve was pulling you close and slotting his lips against yours and then shifting you two around so that you were pressed against the sink.

You savored it just for a second before you pulled away.

“Wait,” You abruptly started and put your hands on his chest to put some distance between you two. “I, um, I think we should stop this.”

Apparently, you were feeling more than just a little bad about everything.

Steve’s hands fell from your hips and it was easy to read the surprised look on his face, which definitely made sense because it did seem as if your words were coming entirely out of left field.

“Oh,” He said. The surprised look fell from his face after the quickest moment. “Oh, okay. Yeah, that’s fine.”

His nonchalance toward the situation made it all feel a thousand times easier. Maybe he didn’t really care about all of this, and that should’ve made you feel okay and good and perfectly fine, but if you were being entirely honest with yourself it didn’t make you feel any of that.

“Okay, cool,” You responded with a forced smile instead of taking your words back or doing anything else about them. “Good to know we’re on the same page.”

He gave you a quick nod. “Yeah.”

For a second, it was hard to do what you needed to do next, but then you were finally moving away from Steve. No sort of “Goodbye” fell from your lips because it weirdly felt too hard to say the word right then.

Keep walking. Keep walking. Keep walking.

The two words played on repeat in your head as you forced yourself to leave the bathroom.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Steve was throwing rocks at your window. You didn’t even have to look to know it was him. There was no one else it could be.

Jamie knocked and walked through your front door like a normal person, and then he’d talk to your parents for the obligatory amount of time that was considered polite (even after being friends for so long and then dating for that past year he was still kinda scared of your dad), and then he’d greet you.

He would not throw rocks at your window.

The smallest part of you was glad that Steve was at least doing this now instead of ten minutes earlier when Jamie was still here studying because that would’ve ruined everything for you. However, Steve being here now still pissed you off nonetheless.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You whisper-yelled when you were standing in front of him in your front yard. You adjusted the hoodie that you haphazardly slipped on in your quick race down the stairs. “My parents are home.”

If he really wanted to, he could’ve called you out on how bad of an excuse that was because there had been many prior moments where your parents' presence hadn’t been that concerning to you. It wasn’t like they checked on you periodically throughout the night, so if you left in the middle of the night, all you had to do was make sure you were back by morning.

Steve didn’t remind you of any of that, though. Instead, he said, “I just— I just wanted to tell you something.”

There was something about the way he was talking and his stance right then that made you give him a look. “Are you drunk?”

He answered with the most unconvincing “No” ever and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“How did you get here?”

“Walked,” he answered and you nodded, relieved that he didn’t drive, and then you felt kind of annoyed for caring. You really didn’t want to care about him anymore.

“So… you, uh, wanted to tell me something?” You asked him. The faster the conversation started, the faster it could be over and he could leave your front yard.

“Oh, yeah,” He nodded. “I just— I wish you hadn’t ended things with us today.”

His words confused you because he had seemed perfectly fine about it all earlier. Your eyebrows furrowed. “But, we agreed—“

“I know,” He interrupted you. “I know, and I get it, I guess. But, I just don’t want you to think that it’s easy for me to let you and what we had go. It isn't easy. At all. I didn’t realize how much I really like you and how much I love what we had until you decided to end it.”

You wondered if he was only admitting that because he was drunk; maybe he wouldn’t have said any of that to you otherwise. But, either way, at least he had the guts to say what you’d been too scared to. You hadn’t even really admitted it to yourself, how much you liked and cared about him. As much as you wanted to pretend that what you two had been doing was mindless and didn’t really mean anything, it was actually the complete opposite; of course, it was.

You still had to look away from him in this moment, though, because you weren’t drunk and it felt too hard to admit the truth like he was. “Steve…”

“What changed?” He asked after a moment of what felt like unbearable silence. “Yesterday, we were fine, right?”

You refused to answer his questions because you really didn’t want to rehash everything right then; how your suddenly guilty brain made you impulsively end things with him. You honestly wanted to just forget about everything.

You shook your head as you sighed. “Let me drive you home, Steve.”

Your words were soft, probably too soft. You wanted to be mean to him, you wanted to push him away; you knew that it would make things easier. But, you couldn’t.

“Can we walk?”

“Sure, but if you stumble and fall I'm not picking you up.”

He laughed a little as he nodded. “Understandable.”

You shouldn’t be joking with him, you shouldn’t even be talking to him, but here you were.

Things were quiet for a few moments, and you figured that maybe this ten-minute walk wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe it would stay silent and you’d say an actual final goodbye to him once you were at his front door and then you two would never talk again; essentially a sort of repeat of what happened last year in English class.

“So, can I know what happened?” Steve asked, breaking the quiet and ruining what you had hoped would happen for the next ten minutes. Apparently, he wasn’t going to let this go until you either told him the truth about what was going on in your head or lied about it all.

You let out a long breath; you couldn’t find it in you to lie to him in this moment. “I finally realized that we’re shitty people for doing this.” Steve didn’t say anything at first so you took that as your cue to keep going. “You love Nancy and I love Jamie and everything that we’ve been doing for the past month isn’t fair to them and it’s so fucked up. We’re selfish and terrible people, and I kinda hate that this ever started in the first place.”

Finally saying it all out loud made it feel a thousand times more real and certain to you. At least, most of it felt that way. You knew just how shitty all of this was, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever completely regret any of it happening.

“You don’t love him, though,” Steve said. “At least that’s what you told me that one night.”

You were now learning that Steve Harrington was a good listener, and even with his current inebriation, his memory was still surprisingly good too.

“That doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change how horrible I feel about all of this.”

You were talking, but all you could think about was the conversation that Steve was referring to. A post-sex conversation that you two had a few weeks ago as you and him were half-naked in the backseat of your car that was parked at Lovers Lake.

It doesn’t feel right anymore, and I don’t know, maybe it never fully did. I just want to go back to how things were before. But, it feels impossible to tell him any of that. He really loves me, and even though I don't feel the same way anymore, I don’t want to hurt him or break his heart. He's still my best friend. I'll always love him like that.

It was hard to remember what Steve said in response to that or if he even said anything at all. All you could remember was that the second the words left your mouth, you wanted to forget about it. You’d been way too honest, saying things that you had never admitted out loud before, but somehow you were admitting them to Steve.

“You’re right,” He said to you now. “We are bad people for doing this.”

Things became quiet then because what else was there really to say? You both were in agreement.

You two continued walking the short distance to his house. When he started going off course a bit too much, stepping on and off of people’s yards instead of staying on the sidewalk, you grabbed his hand to keep him close and steady.

You didn’t drop it once you two were at his front door or even when he asked you to come inside. Against your better judgment, you silently let him lead you into his house. You toed off your shoes at the door like you always did and then followed him up the stairs. You told yourself that you were just making sure he made it into bed alright.

“You okay?” You asked once you two were in his room.

You were just wondering if he was feeling dizzy or needed to throw up, but Steve took your question in an entirely different way.

He shook his head. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here.”

“Okay, I’m gonna miss you.”

“I…” You let out a soft sigh. “I don’t know what you want me to say to that.”

You wished that he would kick you out, or even yell at you. If he was mean to you, it’d make it easier to leave his house, to leave him. Deep down you knew that he would never do that, though.

“Why can’t we just…” He trailed off for a second, and you were certain that he forgot where he was going with his words, but then he continued. “Do this?”

“Do what?” You asked, even though you had a feeling what he meant but you hoped you were wrong.

“Be together for real,” He said, and in an entirely different world it would’ve made you happy hearing that, but in this world his statement only made things feel so much more complicated. “We won’t be bad people anymore if we just stop lying.”

For the briefest second, you imagined saying yes and agreeing with him, and for that quick second, the thought actually sounded really nice.

“Or we won’t be bad people anymore if we just stop everything,” You told him instead of being honest and admitting that you liked him a lot more than you had ever led on, and that even though you had wanted this to mean nothing, you had also really enjoyed the nights where you two talked for hours upon hours about anything.

“Okay,” He said, no longer debating your words and simply accepting them for what they were.

You nodded and then the simple word fell from your lips too. “Okay.”

That was definitely your cue to leave, but you didn’t say any kind of “goodbye” and neither did Steve. It was obvious that things were different, but they didn’t entirely feel that way just yet, so that made you stay.

“Do you want me to leave?” You asked softly after a few moments of just watching him move about his bedroom, pulling off the jacket he was wearing and hanging it on the back of his door.

Steve shook his head, meeting your eyes again. “No, I’ll always want you to stay.”

You couldn’t help but give him a small smile and a simple nod as a way to say “Okay.” You knew that this entire interaction was sending nothing but mixed signals, but your mind was a mess of contradictions and only felt confused, and you just really didn’t want to think too much anymore.

It was warm in his room, so you pulled off your hoodie, leaving you in just your t-shirt and shorts, and you hung it up where his jacket was on his door. Silently, you joined him at his bed, settling yourself and laying down in the spot that you’d been in more times than you could count at this point.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered in the darkness after a while. “That things can’t be different.”

Steve moved closer to you, slipping an arm around your waist. “They could be.”

“I know,” You finally admitted, leaning into his touch. “But, it’s just too hard.”

He didn’t ask you to elaborate on what you meant, probably because he understood or he was just tired of this constant back and forth.

You told yourself that you’d only stay for five minutes. And when five minutes turned to ten, you told yourself that you at least wouldn’t fall asleep.

But, of course, you did. You felt too comfortable and at ease in Steve’s arms not to.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

part two!

let me know ur thoughts<333

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff

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transmunsons · 1 year ago

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Eddie teaches Steve how to fight. The Munson name might be good for nothing but they were a scrappy lot. Eddie learned early how to throw a punch. His dad said real boys knew how to fight, so put your whole body into it, twist your hips.

Eddie had heard King Steve got his face beat in by the Byers kid. Also heard he might’ve deserved it. And that Byers got off with hardly a scratch. But none of that was his business. He was just trying to graduate.

The second time Steve showed up to school with a face full of bandages, he took pity on him. This time he’d apparently gotten into a fight with that mouthy new kid, the one who gave Jeff the heebie jeebies. They ended up in detention together and Eddie leaned into his space and asked some questions, like “how come you get beat up more than my ducklings?”

Apparently the pretty rich boy had never learned how to defend himself, never needed to. What a waste of muscles. Which is how Eddie ended up giving Steve a lesson in the middle of Ms. Pratt’s room. Keep your fists up, turn your body so you’re a smaller target, shift your weight to your toes, and if you need to: scream.

“What?” Steve lowered his hands, bewildered.

“Yeah, man, just scream.” Eddie said. “At the worst, it’ll give you a second while they’re confused and at best they’ll think you’re nuts and disengage entirely. It’s a win-win scenario.” He shrugged.

“Is that how you fight?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed my reputation around here, Harrington, but half the school wouldn’t touch me with a rainbow colored pole and the other half thinks I’m straight up insane. No one’s gonna fight a crazy person, ‘cause crazy people might just kill ya.”

“Thanks for the advice.” Steve remarked. He packed up the singular sheet of homework he’d tried to do.

“No problem, that face is too pretty to be marked up all the time.”

But Steve couldn’t stay out of trouble for long.

Eddie was trying to see if the new mall theater was as easy to sneak into as the Hawk when he passed by some teens in sailor costumes slumped by a water fountain. One of them pointed at him as he walked by.

“Munson! It worked!”

#steddie #steve x eddie #trans eddie munson #ftm eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson

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tartarusknight · 9 months ago

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Steve had this habit, a habit which most of the party were annoyed by. They understood it, God did they understand. But after everything was over and the Upside Down was gone for good, it kept happening. Months and months of daily calls. Just Steve checking in and asking them about their day.

Mike hadn't understood why he was on the list of names Steve would call, but if he didn't pick up the phone, there would be a knock on the door within the hour. And Steve, sometimes followed by Robin, would stop by like he was that important to them. Once, it had been on their way to work, and Steve had only locked eyes with him and raised an eyebrow. Mike just flipped him off and continued reading his comic.

Dustin had told him it was Steve's way of coping, and Lucas had turned the calls into workouts with the older teen. Will had just gone a little red and nodded along. El smiled and told Mike about the tips for hair care she got. Max just rolled her eyes and said that Steve had taken to stopping by with food most days.

Steve would be there. He was always there. It was annoying, but it was a constant. Maybe that's why Mike laid awake as the clock ticked closer and closer to midnight. Normally, he could fall asleep within minutes, a habit he had inherited from his dad. But he could bring himself to sleep as his phone didn't ring. As the walkie stayed silent. As the door remained untouched, no knock to be heard.

And it was stupid. Because Mike didn't want Steve to call him every day just to ask him if he was okay. It made him feel like a kid. It reminded Mike of his mom, but even his mom wasn't that bad. No, no one really did that for Mike. No one checked in day after day even as he remained uncaring towards them. No one but Steve.

Until now...

Mike watched the clock as it passed midnight, and his stomach twisted into knots. Fear bubbled up, and he pictured Steve getting into a fight he couldn't walk away from. He pictured a car crash so great that Steve was unable to reach for the walkie he carried with him everywhere. He pictured the worst- the Upside Down still around. The demogorgon coming up and dragging Steve into that hellpit.

Mike was up and pulling on a warm sweatshirt before those images were fully formed. He crawled out his window and down the roof, not too unlike the way Steve had done to visit Nancy. It left him already out of breath by the time he climbed on his bike. But that didn't stop him. He pushed off the ground, biking as fast as he could towards Loch Nora.

The cold air hot his face, and the road seemed to go on forever, but Mike didn't stop. He couldn't stop. Not until Steve's place was in view.

Mike tossed his bike uncarringly onto the pavement before slamming his fist into the Harrington's nice door. He didn't let up. He couldn't as an image of Steve dead in his own pool floated in his mind.

However, then the door was opening. Steve stood there, looking like he hadn't been asleep either. A smear of white powder on his cheek and a hollowness in his eyes. But still, something eased in Mike the same time Steve lost some of that weight in his shoulders as well. "You- you didn't-" Mike started, still out of breath. "Call. Why didn't you- call?" He gasped and Steve looked at him with a weird expression.

"You- What?" Steve questioned, sounding lost.

Mike crossed his arms, "I- you can't just stop!" He gasped out, and Steve's brow furrowed.

"But you don't like it when I do? I annoy you," he tries to point out, and Mike huffs.

"God, of course you annoy me! You track our days more intensly than my mom, and you always make dumb jokes, and I hate that I find them funny! You always call when I'm in the middle of something, and you make it easy to stay on the phone! You are always there like some weird older brother that I never asked for!" Mike shouts and Steve's eyes are wide.

"You don't have to stay around or call, but you do! You do, and you actually care. Like when you call and ask me if I'm okay, it feels like you care, and I don't understand why! I don't get you! I didn't ask you to care about me, but even when you were dating Nancy, you cared! You took Holly and me to get ice cream even though Nancy had to study! You give me and my friends rides everywhere! You care!" Mike throws his hands up in the air.

He glares at the older teen, "You care so much that I stupidly care about you! I care enough to come and check on you because when you didn't call, all I could think was that you were like dead or something," Mike snaps and takes a step back. "But you're obviously fine so-" and he wants to run suddenly. To run from the way Steve's eyes are filled with tears or the stupid words he just told the older teen.

Steve runs a hand through his hair, tugging slightly. "Mike, I stopped because I didn't think you wanted me to. You always acted like I was your least favorite person in the world and I guess I just- I didn't feel like it was fair to force you to put up with me just because I can't handle not knowing if you were okay." Steve said, and it didn't sound like the normal Steve. He sounded tired and nervous. He sounded like someone had finally beaten him

Mike bites his lip and tastes salt like he had been crying. Or maybe he still was. He crosses his arms like he can shield himself from this conversation. "But now you don't care enough to keep calling?"

Steve rubbed his face, a sigh shaking his whole body as he did. "I still care, kid."

Mike scoffs, "You didn't call."

Steve drops his hands to his sides. "Just come inside. It's too late for you to bike home. I'll call your place and leave a message." Steve says, his voice sounding close to tears. Mike is stiff when he lets Steve pull him inside.

They are quiet as Steve guides him towards the kitchen. The kitchen that has music playing softly and smelling like a bake sale. He blinks as he steps into the room and spots cookies cooling on a rack and a pie stilling uncooked on the counter. The top crust is sitting on the counter next to it. There's a smell of something in the oven, and Mike states at all of it in confusion.

"I bake when I can't relax," Steve admits, and Mike glances over at him. "I still care, and I was trying to give you space. I was trying not to crowd you, so I just," and he waves his hand around the mess everywhere. The smear of white on his cheek now makes sense.

Mike hugged himself, "I don't- I don't mind the calls." He whispered, and it got a snort from Steve.

He looked over at Mike, "I kinda got that from your speech."

They stood there in silence for another moment before Steve moved to finish putting his pie together. "I know that we aren't close or anything. But I care, it's not just the Upside Down making me anxious, it's just that-" and Steve went quiet. "I went overboard, I get it. But now I just- I can't stop." He admits, and Mike hates how upset Steve sounds. How guilty he sounds.

"I fall asleep easier knowing that if someone wasn't okay, we'd know because of you. It's like you take all the stress from me just by being around." He says, and Steve's eyes are wide. "Maybe we just do a sound off every night so you don't have to play phone tag all day." He shrugs, and Steve wrinkles his nose.

"I don't really get how to use the walkie. Like Dustin tried to show me, but he got distracted and started talking about radio waves and well..." Steve mimed it going over his head.

Mike snorted to hide how much that terrified him. The thought of something bad happening and Steve not being able to respond. But he pushed it away as Steve looked at him as if waiting for Mike to tease him. "That's fair. We did modify them, so they worked better. It's not as simple as your average walkie. I can show you," he offered, and Steve's face split into a grin.

"Cool, want to help me finish this so I can put it in the fridge until tomorrow? Then you can teach me the ways," Steve says, going all dramatic, proving to Mike he'd been spending too much time with Eddie. Mike groaned but came over only for Steve to shove him to the sink to wash his hands.

Steve showed him what to do, and Mike was glad to have Steve around. Because sure Steve's habit was annoying, and sometimes it interfered with Mike's plans, but it was nice too. Steve was nice. And that was something Mike ever believed would happen. But as Steve joked that Mike should not become a baker, he was nice. Like the way Mike was nice to Holly or how Nancy was nice to him. He was part of the family, annoyingly nice habits and all.

#stranger things #mike wheeler #steve harrington #trauma response #mike needs a hug #steve needs a hug #knightly talks

2K notes · View notes

andvys · 4 months ago

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

The Epilogue ⭐︎ We'll have a cardboard box of photos of the life we made

Warnings: none really, fluff, lots and lots of fluff, pregnancy, a little (or not so little) time jump, dad!Steve, pregnant!reader, the 'teens' are in their early twenties, proofread but... poorly, please ignore any mistakes

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 5.1k+

Author's note: This is it, friends. The story is done (sob), I'm so grateful for everyone who supported this story, who commented and filled my inbox with sweet asks, I appreciate every single one of you ♡ and @hellfire--cult my love, thank you for working on this story with me, I had the best time working on all these chapters with you, I love u

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

“Lego Head!”

Steve comes scrambling down the stairs, panic in his eyes at the sound of your cry, his heart pounding with worry but also with fear at the frustration in your voice.

He nearly slips on the hardwood floor as he rounds the corner into the kitchen, his hair still wet from the shower he just took after he hurried home from work. He wanted to clean the kitchen and get started on dinner before you got home but time wasn’t on his side today.

Steve doesn’t know whether he should smile out of adoration or tremble in fear at the sight of his pregnant wife, fuming at the unwashed dishes in the sink.

You look so cute, no matter the mood you are in, you are just so goddamn cute, standing in your sundress, hand over your belly, wedding ring shining under the golden light of the evening sun. The frown on your face is adorable as you stare at him with furrowed brows and downturned lips. His heart flutters so wildly in his chest, after years of marriage and kids, his feelings only intensified, they kept growing, his love deepening more and more, each passing day with you. He is so damn lucky.

He approaches you, glancing at the dishes he couldn’t get his hands on yet, he grabs your waist and pulls you closer, “I’m sorry, baby, I was gonna do them after the shower, I just got home from work–”

Your sniffle cuts him off and he instantly stops talking when he sees the tears in your eyes, your lips moving into a pout, guilt crossing your face as you stare at your loving husband.

“I’m sorry! – I know you’re tired–”

“No, no, don’t cry sweetheart, I know you had a hard day too.”

“No, I snapped at you, I’m–”

Steve can’t help but smile softly as he shakes his head, cupping your cheeks softly, he leans in and presses his lips to yours, kissing you softly, taking your mind off the dishes that drove your hormones insane.

A sigh of contentment falls from your lips, your eyes flutter shut and you melt so softly into him, placing one hand on his cheek, his stubble scratching against your palm. His scent, his body wash filling your senses and making your stomach flutter, making you feel at peace.

Steve smiles into the kiss as he feels himself calming down after the stressful day at work, your touch always brings him down, no matter how hectic and how bad a day has been, he always looks forward to coming home.

When you part from the kiss, your husband nuzzles your nose, making you giggle through the tears that sparked in your eyes. He tucks your hair behind your ears and places his large hand on your belly, his eyes glowing with nothing but love and happiness.

“Hi darling,” he whispers, greeting you properly now, he murmurs against your lips, kissing you once more.

“Hi Stevie, I missed you,” you whisper, pouting at him in a way that nearly brings him to his knees.

The smile never leaves his lips, his heart never stops to flutter. He kneels down and kisses your belly, whispering sweet nothings to his little princess.

You run your fingers through his wet hair, gazing down at him, your heart swells in your chest.

After running errands all morning and noon, you stopped by his workplace and he took you out for lunch at your favorite diner, he got you dessert too, even though it wasn’t for you as you had claimed but for the growing princess in your belly – he watched with adoration how you devoured that ice cream with such pleasure, just the way you do every night, when you’re both already in bed and a sudden craving of yours, has him jumping out of bed and tiptoeing down the stairs to get you whatever you or your little princess are asking for.

He remembers it like it was yesterday, when you announced your first pregnancy, he was so clueless and confused when you kissed him goodnight and turned your back to him, when usually, you would snuggle against him, nuzzle your nose into his neck and hold onto him tightly. He was a little hurt, even, thinking he had done something wrong to have you facing away from him but when he slid his hand under his pillow while he was staring at the back of your head and he felt something lying beneath, he furrowed his brows for a different reason as he felt the plastic touching his fingers, when he pulled it out and held it before his face, his eyebrows shot up, his eyes widened and a gasp threatened to fall from his lips as his heart started pounding wildly, excitement and giddiness settling in his stomach.

He needed to be one hundred percent sure that he was seeing correctly, so he turned on the light again, reached for the glasses he hated wearing so much, he didn’t even notice how you looked back at him with a soft smile on your face, he was too in shock about the two lines staring back at him. He knew what it was, he knew what it meant but he still needed the confirmation.

“Baby,” he whispered, his voice shaky from the uncontainable excitement. He slowly turned towards you after he ripped the covers off himself, he placed his hand on your shoulder and turned you around, “darling, light of my life, my gorgeous wife, Blondie– please tell me that this is what I think it is,” he begged, eyes pleading as they stare at you with such love.

The smile on your face, the tears in your eyes that were matching his own were enough of an answer but you nodded and whispered a soft ‘yes’, nonetheless.

“You’re– You’re pregnant?” He whispered, eyes glossy and filled with a softness that had you trembling with emotions. “We’re having a baby?” He asked as his eyes flickered to your stomach that was covered by his shirt on your body, he slowly placed his hand on your belly, while still holding the pregnancy test with shaky hands.

You answered by placing your hand on top of his, nodding again with a happy tear running down your cheek, one that he kissed away in an instant before he wrapped you in his arms, hugging you tighter than he ever has before as tears of happiness cascaded down his own cheeks while you both giggled.

“Yes, Stevie, we’re having a baby,” you said softly, kissing his neck as he buried his face in yours, hand still lingering over your belly, protectively.

He cried, he cried from joy and from love, he could not contain the excitement he was feeling. He had been waiting for this moment for so long, he wanted it from the moment you became his girl. But you both waited, waited for the perfect moment – you enjoyed your time alone with each other, you traveled around the country, stayed in your favorite cities, you spent a summer in Italy, just the two of you.

You got married pretty early on in your relationship, you both knew what you wanted, there was no point in waiting to put rings on each other’s fingers but you decided to wait with kids, well, Steve was open to having them from the start, but you weren’t ready until about three months ago – the moment you have told him that you were off birth control, he pounced on you, ready to take you in every way possible, and he did, he did it a lot, not only that night, but all the following days and weeks, he took you absolutely everywhere, at any time. You thought that he was intense before but what followed after you told him that you were ready, topped everything that you had done in the past.

He kissed your neck, your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, he covered your whole face in kisses before his lips touched your own, he made you both giggle. “I love you, baby, I love you so fucking much,” he mumbled against your lips as his tears fell down on you, his soft eyes gazed into your own as his hand cradled your belly.

“I love you, Stevie,” you whispered and brushed your fingers through his messy hair, adoring the way the glasses adorned his pretty face.

More giggles fell from your lips when he started kissing down your body before he settled between your legs, lifting your shirt, he smiled before he pressed his lips to your belly, kissing it softly as he reached for your hand, entwining his fingers with yours, he looked up into your eyes, showing nothing but love for you.

“Hey,” he whispered into your belly, “you’re probably the size of a pea right now and don’t understand a thing I’m saying.”

His lips twitched at the sound of your sweet laughter, he squeezed your hand and held on tighter.

“But hi, I’m your dad,” he whispered as another tear fell from his eye, nothing short of adoration for you and your baby, pride swelling in his chest the more reality was sinking in, “I can’t wait to meet you,” his voice getting higher, his heart beating faster, “and I love you and your mommy so much, sweetpea.” He spoke as he pressed another kiss upon your warm skin.

There was no bump yet, but he already treated your belly like there was one, so much giddiness lingered in him at the thought of your future, of your growing family.

The family that he has now.

“I missed you more, my love,” he smiles softly, feeling the urge to just lift you up into his arms and carry you up into your bedroom, get in bed with you and hold you in his arms.

“Go lay down, I’m gonna get started on dinner.”

You place your hand over his, toying with his wedding ring. You shake your head, “I can help–”

“No, baby, my two girls need to rest,” he says, smiling as he rubs your belly. “Besides, Eddie is gonna be here soon with the–”

The door is banged open before he can even finish his sentence, startling you both before Eddie’s voice sounds through the hallway.

“Children delivery!”

Eddie steps into the kitchen, like he knew you’d both be here, carrying the two boys effortlessly, the older one of them on his shoulders and the other under his arms, already grinning at the sight of you.

“Daddy, Uncle Eddie taught me how to sword fight!” William exclaims, grinning proudly at his father while his little brother babbles away.

“Uncwe Ewwie wade gookies!” Elliot smiles excitedly.

Steve grins, eyes lighting up just the way yours do, you beam at your boys, smiling brightly as Eddie sets them down and they rush over to you, hugging your legs. You lean down and kiss their foreheads, brushing back William’s wild hair that resembles Steve’s so strongly, just like the hazel in his eyes.

“Hi mommy,” he smiles at you before he kisses your belly, whispering a soft ‘hello’ to his sister as his brother imitates him, making you chuckle while your husband watches with adoring eyes.

Steve crouches down to his boys and pulls them into his arms, making both of them giggle as he smacks his lips against their cheeks, greeting them cutely.

Your best friend chuckles as he watches your youngest, how he wraps his arms back around your leg the moment Steve lets them both go, while William makes his way out of the room and brushes past Eddie, no doubt making his way upstairs into his room.

“Did you bring us some of the cookies Uncle Eddie made?” You ask, smiling at your boy.

He shakes his head, pouting cutely as he looks between you and Steve, “I ate all gookies!”

Chuckles fall from your and your husbands lips, sharing amused glances with one another before he leans down and picks up Elliot into his arms, tickling his belly, the little boy giggles loudly.

“You ate all the cookies?” Steve gasps, beaming at his kid, “you’re the cookie monster, aren’t you?”

Elliot giggles and shakes his head at his dad.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie nods with raised eyebrows, stepping closer to the three of you, “he is a little cookie monster.”

“No, Ewwie!” The little boy exclaims, hiding his face in the crook of Steve’s neck, yawning as he snuggles against his dad.

Eddie laughs as he throws his arm around your shoulder, patting your belly softly, “alright alright, you’re not the cookie monster, buddy. But your sister is, your mom can eat a whole batch of cookies nowadays.”

Steve and Elliot giggle at Eddie’s words, while you glare at your best friend who grins at you, shrugging, “what? She has a sweet tooth, just like her mom.”

Eddie winks at you, the youthfulness still so deeply in his features, the playfulness in him still there, never leaving. His hair is just as long as it was years ago, if not longer, his band t-shirts still taking up most of the space in his closet, a few more rings adorn his fingers now, more tattoos on his arm and his chest, peeking out from beneath his shirt.

“Mhmm,” your husband nods, smiling softly at you as he lets Elliot down when he starts wiggling with his feet, he runs out of the kitchen the moment his dad puts him down, following his brother upstairs.

“Robin made you carrot cake, by the way, it’s in the fridge.”

Your eyes widen, lighting up at his words. Your mouth waters instantly, stomach grumbling at the mention of your newest craving.

Eddie chuckles at the expression on your face, the wide and excited eyes resembling the ones of a kid on christmas morning.

“I’m gonna kiss Robin.”

“Uh oh,” Eddie laughs, staring at Steve who frowns at you playfully, “be careful, Harrington, Robin knows how to steal girls.”

“Nobody is stealing my girl,” Steve shakes his head, wrapping his arm around your waist, he brings you closer and kisses your temple, “she’s mine.”

You place your hand on your husband’s chest, nuzzling your face into his shoulder.

“All yours, Lego Head.”

Eddie snorts at the nickname you have been using again lately, teasing Steve with it, every chance you get, but your husband only shakes his head with a smile on his face as his soft eyes gaze down into yours just as lovingly as they did back then, if not more.

It’s been seven years, almost eight, that you and Steve had found your way to each other after denying the bond that had always been there, seven years of this, of lovesick smiles and a bond that is unexplainable to anyone who never experienced a love like yours. You and Steve share something otherworldly, almost like you were made for each other, like you were made with each other, you got something that nothing could ever come between, absolutely nothing, not even death – Eddie is convinced.

Wherever one goes, the other will follow.

He sees the love you share, he sees the way your eyes speak to one another, how sometimes, neither of you has to use words to know what the other wants or needs, there is an understanding between you, no matter what happens, no matter what is going on, no matter the peace or the distress in your lives, you got each other and as long as you do, you both will be okay.

The vows you shared on your wedding day were nothing but truthful and honest words spoken from your hearts, your souls. No emptiness behind them, no promises to ever be broken but ones to keep not in force but in nature, nothing but love and adoration in your hearts for the other – maybe a slight possessiveness but only a healthy amount, a good kind.

Yours and Steve’s wedding will always be something that Eddie looks back at with joy and humor because you weren’t freaking out, neither was Steve, you were both calm, both at peace, both giddy and excited for the day you had been waiting for.

But Eddie, he was freaking out and so was Robin, both excited for their best friends but emotional at best.

Eddie cried when he saw you in your dress, he walked you down the aisle with a blurry vision, tears he tried to blink away were falling. You and Steve giggled through your own tears at your best friend who placed your hand into your fiance’s palm like an emotional father, not ready to see his little girl on the altar.

Eddie is so deeply lost in his thoughts as he stares at you both with a smile on his face, he doesn’t even hear the doorbell, only when you leave the kitchen, and Steve nudges his shoulder, does he snap out of it.

“You tired from babysitting all day, Munson?”

Eddie snorts, grumbling under his breath as he cracks his back.

“You better not make me babysit six kids in the future, or I swear on my uncle–”

“You love my kids, Munson, stop whining.”

“That’s right, I bet my favorite one is gonna be the girl, I just know she’s gonna be a little rockstar, a metalhead like her favorite uncle,” Eddie grins proudly.

Steve rolls his eyes, shaking his head in amusement.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be her favorite?” He asks as he gestures to his boys running down the stairs when they both step into the hallway to see who rang the doorbell.

“Max!” William smiles excitedly, running up to her to greet her, ready to talk her ear off about his day with Uncle Eddie. His brother giggles, throwing himself into Lucas’s arms who picks him up with a smile on his face.

“Hey little Steve,” Lucas jokes as he ruffles Elliot’s hair, “how are you buddy?”

Eddie sighs, placing his hand over his heart, a dramatic yet playful look residing on his face.

“I thought I was the favorite.”

Steve pats Eddie’s shoulder, “you’ll live.”

“Hey red,” Eddie calls out to his ‘step’ sister who nods along to William’s words, a smile upon her face. “How’s little red holding up in there?”

She scrunches her nose up, placing her hand on her small bump, “she’s making me nauseous.”

Lucas nods with wide eyes, “mhm and very hangry.”

Steve and Eddie chuckle while she glares at the three of them.

“Don’t worry, the nausea will pass,” you assure her, knowing just how awful the nausea can be in the first few months, how the morning sickness can drive you up the wall. Steve knows it too, he found you crouched over the toilet one too many times but he had always done such a good job at taking care of you, always there to pull your hair out of your face and rub your back, even when you told him to get out of the room and save himself from seeing you that way, like he would ever leave you to deal with anything by yourself. – He cooked for you, even took it upon himself to learn how to bake to satisfy your cravings, he never came home empty handed, he still doesn’t, he does everything to sweeten your day, absolutely everything. Not because you’re asking for it, you never would, not because he feels like he has to, no, he wants to, he wants to see the smile on your face, he wants to love on you, he loves to spoil you.

“Yeah, Blondie is the expert, she knows all about it, she’s only got like what? Three more pregnancies to go?” Your best friend cackles, making Steve’s cheek go red as the metalhead reminds him of the drunken night he told him that he would put six babies into you.

Max and Lucas both chuckle while Steve groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You’re doing good with it so far, you’re already halfway through!” Lucas grins, wiggling his eyebrows between you and your husband, gesturing to your bump, while Elliot’s big eyes flicker back and forth curiously.

“Daddy bought me a new skateboard!” William exclaims, tugging at Max’s hand as he completely ignores the conversation happening in the room.

“He did?” Max smiles down at him.

“Yeah! Let’s go!” He drags her away, excitedly, beckoning Lucas to come with him as well, to which he chuckles, still holding Elliot in his arms as he follows the little boy and his girlfriend, their voices echoing in the living room.

Steve wears a smile on his lips, his eyes following them until they step out into the backyard. Tilting his head back to you, his eyes soften only further, he pushes himself off the wall and makes his way towards you, reaching his hand out to yours, he takes it softly and pulls you into his arms, kissing your temple, his chest flutters when he breathes in your sweet scent.

A content sigh falls from your lips as you lean into your husband, resting your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Are you feeling alright, honey?” He murmurs, looking down at you with gentle eyes as his palm rubs your belly.

“Yeah,” you smile, nuzzling further into him.

“Right,” Eddie clears his throat, pretending to be annoyed by the affection you’re both displaying (constantly), “I’m gonna get going, I’m taking my honey out on a date.”

“Ooh, where are you taking her?” You ask.

“Nothing special, we’re going to the movies and then we’ll get some dinner at Enzo’s.”

“That’s nice, Eddie,” Steve shakes his head at him, any date, any moment is special when it’s spent with the right person, he knows it.

“Yeah, I love a movie date and dinner!”

Eddie chuckles at your enthusiasm, “yeah, you only do it like every week,” he huffs in amusement.

“We love it,” Steve shrugs, looking down at you with loving eyes.

“I know you do and well, I do too so I’m gonna go now,” Eddie says, patting Steve on his shoulder before he ruffles your hair and pinches your cheek, “take care of yourself, mama and listen to your hubby when he tells you to rest.”

Steve chuckles at the way you slap your best friend’s hand away, glaring at him.

“I get enough of rest–”

“No, you don’t, honey,” Steve shakes his head, “can’t rest for a single second, you always gotta do something.”

You pout at him, making his eyes soften only further. He leans down and presses his lips to yours before you can protest.

“That’s my cue,” Eddie mumbles, he opens the front door, shouting a goodbye to the boys and to Max and Lucas. He winks at the both of you, grinning when you pull away from one another, “bye lovebirds, enjoy your free time while your two babysitters are keeping your nuggets busy.” He wiggles his brows and cackles, walking out of the door with an amused look on his face, he looks back one more time before he shuts the door, leaving you both to yourselves.

Giggles and voices come from the garden, the sun is still high up in the sky, warmth seeping into the house through the open doors and windows. One peek out in the backyard, you can see William showing his newest tricks to Max while Elliot plays basketball with Lucas, squealing and giggling every time Lucas picks him up so he can shoot the ball into the net.

“Hmm,” Steve hums with a smile on his face, positioning himself behind you, he wraps his arms around your waist, placing one hand under your belly and the other on top of yours, he leans down and props his chin up on your shoulder after kissing it, “let’s order dinner tonight and just relax.”

You lean your head back against his chest, tilting your head to the side, you look up at him, eyes big and soft – something that still drives him crazy.

“Relax?” You giggle when you see the smirk on his lips.

He nuzzles his face into your neck, kissing you softly, “I just want you all to myself for a moment, I missed you all day, darling.”

Your eyelashes flutter, a sweet sigh falls from your lips when he continues to pepper your neck in kisses, you wrap your hand around his wrist, giving it a squeeze, “I missed you too, Stevie,” you whisper.

“Ten minutes, baby, I want ten minutes with my beautiful wife,” he murmurs against your neck, sucking teasingly, making you melt into his arms further.

Your heart flutters in your chest, a small but needy whine escapes you, “ten minutes,” you whimper.

Steve doesn’t need to be told twice, he smacks his lips against your skin once more before he turns you around and he cups your cheeks, leaning down, his nose touches yours, his lips brush against your own, “I love you so much, Blondie,” he teases you with the nickname before he kisses you softly, making you smile against him.

You place your palm above his fluttering heart, resting your other on the back of his neck, “I love you so much, Lego Head,” you tease him back.

He chuckles, leaning his forehead against yours, his soft eyes stare into yours lovingly. He reaches his hand up to your necklace, the one you haven’t taken off since he got it for you all these years ago.

“Where are your glasses, honey?” You ask, sliding your hand from his neck to cup his cheek, thumb caressing his cheekbone.

Steve scrunches his nose up, “I don’t like them.”

He didn’t even like the reading glasses he needed at first, he refused to wear them, claiming that he didn’t even need them. He was squinting his eyes like crazy, it was clear that he struggled to make out the words in the books he was reading, eventually he caved and started wearing them.

But now he needs them for more than just reading and he hates it, he only puts them on when he’s driving and takes them off for everything else, throws them into the drawer in the nightstand and lets them sit there until he has to drive somewhere again.

“Well, I think that you look very handsome wearing them,” you smile, licking your lips as your eyes flicker between his soft eyes and his very kissable mouth. “Very, very handsome,” you whisper and blink at him, innocently.

Your husband smirks at the suggestive tone in your voice, his cheeks heat up, warmth surging through his body.

“Oh, yeah? Well then, I gotta put them on for you… right now.”

A squeal almost falls from your lips when he picks you up suddenly, carrying you up the stairs, bridal style, just like on the day you got married and just like on many occasions after.

Steve kisses your cheek on the way up, grinning at you excitedly, lovingly. His heart swells when you hold onto him tighter, laying your head on his shoulder and nuzzling your nose into his neck.

He adores you, he adores you so much, if his heart could explode from all the love he holds for you, then it would’ve burst by now. He always knew that he loved hard, before you got together, months and months after dating, but even now after so many years together, after creating this beautiful family, he keeps on falling, loving you harder, each day.

It’s all he ever wanted.

And you both had to go through such darkness to get here, he spent so many nights wondering if you’d both be here if things never happened the way they did, back then. – He hates to think of a life without you in it, he despises the thought with all his being.

“Blondie?” He whispers after sitting down on your king sized bed, with you on his lap.

“Yes?” Your voice is only above a whisper, soft and gentle.

Steve grabs your chin tenderly, he looks into your loving eyes and smiles.

“I would go through it all again if it meant I’d get to be where I am, right now. I would go through the darkness, through Vecna, through the upside down… I would do it all over again if I’d get all this, you, in the end.”

There are tears in his eyes and in yours, not of sadness, only of love.

“I would do it all over again too, Stevie,” you whisper with no hesitation.

“Yeah?” He asks softly, gazing at you with teary eyes.

“Yeah,” you nod and lean your forehead against his, “anything for my love.”

His cheeks grow pink every time you call him that, heart beating wildly in his chest, he places his hand on your belly, stroking it softly.

“Anything?”

“Mhmm, anything.”

“Be my forever,” he whispers softly, lips ghosting over yours in a smile, eyes big and sparkly – like you aren’t his forever already.

“You already are, silly,” you peck his lips, making him grin against you, “you’re my forever.”

He cups your cheeks fully now, kissing you stronger and deeper, holding you like he will never let you go – and he won’t, he won’t ever let go.

“And you are mine, Blondie.” Steve kisses you again and again. “My forever.”

It’s hard to believe you were once behind one of the mall’s pillars, hiding from his view, watching him serve ice cream in that stupid sailor outfit while you tried to earn up the courage to talk to him, to really talk to him for once in your life.

It’s hard to believe that he was once looking at you from afar, watching you walk through the hallways without glancing twice towards the same person, wishing you would look at him at least once.

Hard to believe that you two never realized you were performing a stupid dance, be it around each other or with each other for years and years, and now that dance is over. Is it? No. You are still dancing, but now, it’s synchronized, magnetized, and a dance that cannot be broken.

A dance that now is shared with multiple people, with family you thought you would never have again, with family he thought he never deserved, with friends that stuck to you both like glue, and with your children that giggle every time you twirl around one another.

But just because it is hard to believe, doesn’t mean that it would’ve never happened, that it shouldn’t have happened, that it wasn’t supposed to happen. You would have found your way to each other, even without the darkness that pushed you into each other’s arms, the darkness that allowed you to find the happiness and love that you share with each other now.

Forever. And ever… And ever. In this universe, in the next, and the rest to come.

The End.

♡

@prettyboyeddiemunson @mysticmunson @taintedcigs @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @thecreelhouse @maroon-cardigan @sherrylyn0628 @corrodedcorpses @munson-mjstan @moon-flowerrs @munsonlore @agirlwholovesrockstars

#dwoht -- epilogue #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things angst

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f1ct1onwh0re · 2 years ago

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I’d love to be tagged in the next part of this, it’s so beautiful!!

Love Grows - Part 2

More teen dad Steve! This shaping up to be around 8-9 parts, so keep an eye out for more!

Part 1

March '85

Steve gets more comfortable bringing Rosemary to school. Twice a week he brings the 6 month old along as he goes to class, and when Eddie asks him about it one day, Steve just shrugs. "I used to pay for a sitter on those days, because the usual one can't watch her, but I'd rather have her with me since everyone knows anyway." And yeah, that makes sense.

Eddie starts taking her during Steve's free period, so the guy has a chance to do some schoolwork without worrying about keeping an eye on his kid. He enjoys it, the time he gets with Rosie one-on-one, but he really enjoys lunch on those days, because Steve will bring her out to Eddie's van - which Eddie scrubbed clean before offering the first time - and they'll eat lunch and talk while Rosie stretches out in the soft blankets laid out in the back.

He gets some weird looks, including the occasional piercing stare from Nancy Wheeler that he pointedly ignores, as well as his own share of whispers whenever he goes around with Rosie. He’s grateful that the years of acting out, of perfectly honing his loud, unruly persona has left him immune to the chatter. All that matters is Rosie, and Steve, and making sure they’re both taken care of.

The first time Steve asks him to watch Rosie outside school hours, he is visibly stressed. Apparently there's a big basketball game this Friday night and Steve's usual sitter is unavailable, and is there any way he could watch Rosie for a couple of hours? Please?

There's a little voice in the back of Eddie’s mind that screams about it being a Hellfire night, and a baby would be too distracting, would just get in the way. The tantrum is quickly silenced when Steve shoots him those pleading, hazel puppy eyes, and fuck, Eddie’s resolve falls like a house of cards. On Friday he finds himself taking Rosie's carrier and diaper bag as Steve rambles on a little, clearly nervous.

"I fed her like an hour ago, so she should be okay until after the game. She should stay asleep the entire time, but if she wakes up, just hold her- And you know what you're doing, I don't know why I'm going on about this."

Eddie can't help the smile that spreads over his face as he reaches out to pat Steve's shoulder. "It's fine, man. You're worried about the game and you're projecting. It'll be okay."

Steve nods and takes a breath. "Do you want me to meet you back here after the game? Or I can come to wherever you are to get her, if that's easier."

Eddie hoists the diaper bag higher on his shoulder. "I’m actually going to be hanging around for a little while. There's a room back behind the drama department, you can meet me there to pick her up."

“Yeah, I can do that,” he says, hands twisting nervously in the strap of his own bag, and Eddie leans over, nudges Steve with his elbow. “You’re gonna do great, Stevie. You’ll have to tell me all about it when you pick up Rosie.”

Steve seems to appreciate the encouragement, gives Eddie a soft “Sure thing,” as they walk into the school together, and the younger waves before they split up and head their separate ways.

Eddie's friends are baffled when they see Rosie, her carrier placed in a spare seat so he can see her easier, and yeah, Eddie gets it. They know that he watches her sometimes, have seen him around with her, but he’s never brought her into their circle before.

Gareth is the first to actually comment on it with a curious "Hey, Eddie? Why do you have Harrington's baby?"

"Because, Gareth, I'm an excellent babysitter, and my services were needed."

He sends Gareth a blinding smile and the younger rolls his eyes, opens his mouth to say something but is cut off when Andy smacks his hand on the table.

"Listen, Eddie. I know you've got your whole, whatever the fuck, going on with Harrington, but Hellfire is sacred, man! You can’t just bring in a fucking baby because King Steve asked you to!"

The room goes quiet at the outburst, and Eddie takes a breath, places his hands on the table and leans forward as he levels a look at the guy. "Steve is raising this baby by himself, and when he needed a hand he came to me because he trusts me, and I agreed because he’s my friend. If you have a problem with me helping out a friend, Andy, then you can fucking leave."

There’s a beat as Eddie stares him down, dares him to say something else before Andy looks away, and Eddie nods firmly as he relaxes a bit, satisfied that there won’t be any more objections about Rosie being there. He starts the session soon after, and the interaction slips to the back of his mind as they all focus on the game

Despite Steve's assurances, Rosie wakes up after about an hour, but before Eddie can reach over to shush her, Gareth is on his feet. He pulls her from the carrier and cradles her in his arms, and when Eddie shoots him a look he just shrugs.

"I haven't been able to do this since Maggie was a baby, let me have this, man."

Right, Eddie forgot about the fucking eleven year gap between Gareth and his little sister. The guy probably has more baby experience than Eddie and Steve combined, and that's the only reason Eddie allows it to happen, not because Gareth looks so quietly happy to be holding a baby again. He almost says something when Matt takes her a little while later, but Gareth shows him how to hold her, how to make sure she's comfortable, and Eddie settles down, keeping an eye out while still running the game.

Over the next hour, Rosie gets passed around the table. When someone's arms get tired, she goes on to the next person, although Chris pointedly passes over Andy and hands her directly to Jeff. Eddie smirks at the slight disappointment on Andy's face, and the smug delight on Jeff’s as he cradles the sleeping baby close, shushes her gently when she lets out a weak cry.

The whole scene makes Eddie proud, proud that his boys aren’t afraid to show this level of care for a child they don’t even know, that belongs to someone they have a history of disliking.

They're completely engrossed in the game when there's a knock on the door, and Eddie looks up to see Steve entering the room. He looks around and frowns, and Eddie feels a rush of - panic? resolve? - when he glances over to see Jeff still holding Rosie.

Steve makes his way over to Eddie, and the older braces himself for a rude comment, prepares to defend his flock, to the point that he’s surprised when instead, Steve says "You could have told me you already had plans for tonight, Eddie. I would have found someone else."

The weight in Eddie's stomach lifts a little, and he scoffs as he steps over to take Rosie from his friend. “It’s fine, Steve. She’s been silent as a mouse, a perfect angel, honestly.” Steve hums skeptically, watches as Eddie straps Rosie back into her carrier before handing it and the bag over.

Eddie motions to the door, follows Steve out and closes it behind them as he says "Listen, Steve, I'm sorry. I should have asked before I let anyone else hold her, but Gareth started it and he knows a lot about babies because of his sister, and then Matt took her from him before I could and-"

He cuts himself off when he sees the amused smile on Steve's face, and he gives a confused "What?"

Steve shakes his head. "I don't mind if your friends hold her, Eddie. She's pretty used to being held, and they seemed to be careful with her."

"You don't mind if everyone holds her?" Eddie asks, trying to be subtle, and Steve, beautiful, smart Steve, just smiles wider.

"You know, when I got my face beat in by Billy Hargrove last year, it's because he was being a racist asshole towards one of my kids. I wasn't gonna stand for it, so I put myself between him and Lucas. He broke a plate over my head for it." He settles the diaper bag higher on his shoulder and takes a step back. "Your friends seem nice, Eddie. Maybe you can introduce me next time?"

Steve seems to be making a habit of surprising him, and Eddie can't stop the smile that spreads across his face as he nods. "Sure thing, Stevie. Get home safe, yeah?"

"Will do. Night, Eddie," he says before walking off, and Eddie is alone in the hall when he responds with a soft "Night, sweetheart."

Tag list:

@luciana-rowan @bidisastersworld @little-gae-shit @thehumblefigtree @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcarin @estrellami-1 @shrimply-a-menace @anaibis @livelaughlexa @vampireinthesun @zerokrox-blog @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @idea-less-author @thegingerrapunzel @fantasyfr3ak @stevesbipanic @electrick-marionnett @tuesdaycats @seths-rogens @flustratedcas @qomrades @artiststarme @death-the-elf @stardustonpages @trensu @otaku-bell-livemotto @thev01dd @demolvr

If you asked to be tagged and you're not in this list, it means I tried to tag you and your name didn't come up! Feel free to ask again, and I'll try again on the next part.

#i love this sm!!!#i love hellfire #teen dad steve #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington

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j2hoes · 3 months ago

Text

All Your Fault (Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader)

Word Count: 12.5K

Summary: In no world could Y/N like Steve Harrington, that's what she kept telling herself despite everybody's insistence that he was a good guy. They couldn't possibly be right, could they?

Warnings - Mature Language, Suicide, Mentions Of Sex, Death, Injuries, Bullying, Drug Use

A/N: This is my longest fic yet and of course it's for the one and only Steve Harrington! Just wanted to say that I know this doesn't follow the exact plot and I have changed some things so it fits in with the storyline. Also I am not condoning bullying in any way, shape or form!! Not proofread so forgive me.

“Hey, dingus, we need a ride!”

My bedroom door swings open, just about slamming against the wall before the irritating voice of my younger brother reverberates throughout my bedroom. Startled by the noise, my head snaps in Dustin’s direction. Not expecting to see his little group of friends in tow or for them to be in the company of Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley. Who I know them to spend a lot of time with nowadays despite my incessant complaints about Harrington being quite possibly the worst person on planet.

“Dude! Knock much?” I groan, swiftly closing the notebook that I had previously been writing in, in order to avoid any wandering eyes. “I was in the middle of something!”

“What? Making out with your stuffed toys?” Dustin jokes, resulting in a few snickers from his friends and a roll of their eyes from the older teens.

“I’d be happy to make out with you.” Mike comments, my brother throwing a small tap to the back of his head in disapproval.

“Ew gross. Get out of my bedroom you little perverts!”

“Listen dickhead, mom and dad have gone to the movies and if I’m remembering correctly they said you have to drive me places when they’re not here. So, we’ll be taking that ride now please.”

“Fuck’s sake.” I grumble, combing my fingers through my hair in annoyance. “Doesn’t your new best friend Steve drive?”

My voice is laced with malice, eyes fixated on the older boy with a glare, eyebrows raised as I await his response. Not that I needed any confirmation, everybody in Hawkins knows that Steve drives. God, he never shuts up about his deep red BMW, it’s one of his more insufferable qualities.

“Yeah, my car is kind of in the garage right now. It’s gonna be out of action for a while.” He admits, cheeks flushing a soft scarlet indicating his embarrassment.

“So that makes you our designated driver.” Dustin tells me, a smug look on his face as he knows that I have no option but to accept defeat. “Plus, your truck is a lot bigger than Steve’s car. You won’t even have to speak to us because we’ll sit in the bed!”

“Fine! But I am not giving you a ride home because I’ve got a shift at the roller rink tonight and I cannot afford to take another night off!” I state, reluctantly grabbing my keys and throwing my fur coat over my shoulders.

Making my way towards the group, they’re quick to make their way down the staircase, scurrying out the front door as though afraid I may change my mind at any given second. I take my time locking up the house, wanting to delay the inevitability of having Steve Harrington in my truck for as long as I physically can. Sure, it’s annoying having to cart my brother and his friends around the town of Hawkins at their will, but the kids, I can deal with. One of my childhood bullies, not so much.

Strolling over to the garage, it’s hard to miss the way Steve and Robin stand close to one another, giggling like school girl’s at whatever they were discussing. With furrowed brows, I can’t help but wonder when they became friends. Not only is Robin a year younger than Steve and I, but she’s also the complete opposite of Steve’s normal company. After all, he is friends with cheerleaders and jocks, Buckley is in the school band and spends most of her free time studying other languages. There is no world in which they could possibly be friends and yet here they are.

“Steve and Robin are gonna ride up front with you.” Dustin speaks, clambering into the bed of the truck with very little grace.

“What? No, you can all get in the back!” I argue, offering Max a hand as she struggles to pull herself up.

“Sorry but eight of us back here is too much of a squeeze, guess you’ll just have to make do.” Lucas remarks, arguing my brother’s case for him, forcing me to plaster on a fake smile as if I couldn’t be happier.

“Okay. Let’s just hope I don’t crash on the way, I’d hate to see a six body pile up on the side of the road.” My tone is ominous and I catch the slight gleam of fear in each and every one of the kid’s eyes. “Where am I taking you assholes?”

“Starcourt please Y/N.” Max hastily replies, hand clutching the side of the truck so tight her knuckles are turning white and I smirk to myself as I close the tailgate, pleased I have managed to instill a sense of panic in the usually overly confident group.

Hopping up into the driver’s seat, I’m about to turn on the ignition when out of the corner of my eye, I register that Steve has taken it upon himself to choose the middle seat. Situating himself comfortably between Robin and I.

“Uh no. Not happening. You two need to switch sides.”

“What why?” Steve questions and I could be wrong but I’m almost positive there is a twinge of hurt in his tone.

“Because I don’t mind Robin.” I smile sweetly at the girl, before replacing it with a scowl as my eyes lay on the chestnut haired doofus. “You, on the other hand, I’d rather take a knife to the eye, than sit besides you.”

As much as it feels like a punch to the gut when I spot the pained expression wash over Harrington’s face, it is completely overshadowed by the sense of pride that I feel at being able to make him feel small, the same way him and his posse of imbeciles did to me for years. I know, deep down, that I should be the bigger person, that just because he treated me poorly throughout our school years that I shouldn’t do the same to him. Yet, I’m resentful. I’m resentful and having accepted the cruelty of this world, I’m also bitter. No longer the sweet and optimistic young girl that I once was.

“Yeah, I actually can’t take the middle seat.” Robin confesses, an awkward smile resting on her face. “I get real bad claustrophobia.”

With an exasperated huff, I focus my eyes on the road as we begin the drive, doing my best to ignore the passenger sitting beside me. Even if I am trying to distract myself, I’m unable to hide my annoyance, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard, I’m afraid it may shatter beneath me.

Fortunately it’s only a short ten minute drive to the Starcourt Mall, as long as traffic is in my favor, I should even shave off a couple of minutes. Though the silence within the small space is deafening, frustrating me even more. Before I can stop myself, I’m reaching over to turn on the radio, hoping the joyful melodies of Joe Jackson’s Steppin’ Out will boost my mood before my shift.

Unluckily for me, as I reach to grab the steering wheel once again, my hand lightly brushes over Steve’s hand, causing me to flinch away with such force it feels as though I have been electrocuted.

“Sorry.” Steve mumbles, tucking his hands away into his pockets to avoid any more uncomfortable interactions.

“So, I’m sensing a teeny bit of tension here.” Robin comments, stating the obvious.

“Yeah, no shit Robin.” I snap, feeling my entire body go stiff at her teasing.

Glancing over at the two teens, I take note of the way Robin slumps down into the seat at my words. Folding her arms over her chest as if she’s a child that has just been scolded by their parents.

“Why are the kids so desperate to go to Starcourt anyway?” I ask, not directing the question at either of them in particular in an attempt to change the subject, feeling slightly guilty at my previous outburst.

“Oh um, we’re meeting Eddie, just thought it’d be nice to take that bunch of losers out for the day you know. Nancy and Jonathan might even be joining us later too!” Robin explains, smiling to herself as she peers out the back window to make sure the kids are doing fine.

“Besides, they deserves a break with everything that’s been-”

“What Steve means to say is that they’ve had a lot on at the moment, what with school. We think they’re getting a little stressed.” Robin interrupts, doing her best to subtly elbow Steve’s stomach, though I’m able to spot it, mostly because his body jerks into mine as she does so.

“Why do I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me?” I ask, slyly peering over at them from the corner of my mouth.

“Nope, we’re not hiding anything.” Robin asserts, turning away from me to gaze out of the window.

“Yeah, nothing to tell. Definitely nothing going on.” Steve agrees, the haste in which they both answered only raising my suspicions.

Before I can question them even further, I realize I’m pulling into the Starcourt parking lot. Quickly finding a space and turning off the ignition, I don’t give the duo any time to get out of the car before I’m turning the child lock on, forcing them to remain in the vehicle with me.

“I swear to God, if my baby brother is in any sort of trouble and you haven’t told me, I’ll kill the pair of you, okay?” I ask, both of them nodding their heads furiously at my threat and leaping out of the passenger door the moment that I unlock it.

Rolling down my window, I can hear the kids hopping over the side of the truck, eagerly chattering amongst themselves at the plans they have made for the day. Tiny smile forming on my face as I light a cigarette, watching Dustin jokingly fight with Steve. The interaction holds no maliciousness, I can see no sign of the older boy deliberately trying to hurt him and for a split second I find myself questioning whether it could be possible that the great King Steve has changed in his ways. However, I’m quick to shake that thought away.

“Do my eyes deceive me or is that Y/N Henderson?” Eddie Munson’s voice calls from a mere few feet away.

“Oh shit.” I whisper, taking a long drag of my cigarette before jumping out of the truck and resting my back against the door, waiting for him to approach.

It’s safe to say Eddie and I have a complicated relationship. What started out as him simply being nothing more than my dealer, blossomed into a somewhat beautiful friendship. Considering we’re an unlikely duo, we have a lot in common. Sharing similar taste in films, books and sense of humor.

I suppose it was inevitable that we’d end up sleeping together. Fuelled by our drug induced state, we shared a very hot and very exciting night of passion together. Following with me sneaking out of his trailer first thing the next morning after I had slowly come to my senses and discerned that our relationship should remain just friends. Not wanting to pursue anything at this moment in time.

“Hey Eddie, it’s been a while.” I comment, flicking the ash from my cigarette onto the ground as he places an arm beside my head, caging me between his body and the truck.

“I never heard from you.” He speaks quietly, doing his best to avoid the attention of the group standing not too far from us.

“I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot going on.” I mumble, looking anywhere but the boy in front of me.

As my gaze finds the group, my eyes instantly fall upon Steve Harrington. He’s speaking to Max, clearly in some sort of debate with her that looks like it may be about to explode into a full blown argument, yet his attention is solely focused on me. Observing the close proximity between me and the metalhead. His eyes falling to my lips as I allow the smoke to exhale from my mouth.

“You know, you could at least look at me when I’m talking to you.” Eddie chuckles, attempting to hide the hurt undertone in his voice, head rotating to follow the direction of my eyeline.

“Sorry, I just don’t get what Harrington’s problem is. He’s been staring over here this entire time.” I tell him, finally staring up at the tall boy.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He asks, teasing smile resting upon his lips. I shake my head slowly, dropping the cigarette to the ground. “He thinks you’re hot.”

My hands slap against his chest instinctively, the idea being completely and utterly absurd to me that I have to laugh.

“I’m serious! Look at you, you’re a fucking smoke show.” Eddie asserts, pushing his argument even more as he sneaks another glance over to the topic of our conversation. “Want me to prove it?”

The idea of Steve Harrington finding me even remotely attractive is so far off the table that I find myself entertained by the idea of proving Eddie wrong. I’m sure he’s simply intrigued by the idea of me and the freak being friends, nothing more.

With a small nod, Eddie’s hands drop to my waist, touch as light as a feather to not push any boundaries that I may not be comfortable with. Playing along with his antics, I take the lapels of his leather jacket in my hands, pulling his body impossibly closer to mine. The hard expression on Steve’s face is difficult to miss as Eddie’s head rests in the crook of my neck, peppering gentle kisses along the base.

“Ew Eddie, come on man! That’s my sister!” Dustin’s whines pull us back to reality and Eddie takes a dramatic step away from me to please the curly haired young boy.

Although we now stand with plenty of space between the two of us, Harrington’s face remains in the same cold expression as before. Jaw clenched tightly as his eyes flick between Eddie and I. Leaving me more confused than ever at what his problem is.

“Alright, see you later kids.” I shout, climbing back into my truck and leaving them in the capable hands of their babysitters. “Don’t be causing any trouble!”

***

Steve could think of nothing other than the mean girl that had reluctantly drove them to the mall. It didn’t matter how many stores they went in, or arcade games they played, he just couldn’t get her off his mind. Wondering why she had such a huge vendetta against him. What could he possibly have done to this girl, that he is almost certain he has never met before, to cause her to act in such an unpleasant way towards him.

He knew he hadn’t been the nicest of guys throughout high school, caring more about his popularity and how his friends perceived him than being a decent person. However, he was sure he’d remember if he had been rude to her. He was sure he wouldn’t have been rude to a girl like her. Hell, he was wondering why he hadn’t pursued her sooner. Her beauty indescribable and more radiant than any other girl he had seen before.

“Steve, what’s going on? I’m regretting picking you to be on my team!” Dustin exclaims, frustrated at the loss of yet another game due to Steve’s lack of focus.

“That was your sister?” He asks in disbelief, still completely overwhelmed by the limited interaction they had shared hours prior.

“Yeah, she’s a full on bitch right?” Dustin comments, unaware of his friend’s infatuation.

“Has she always been that unkind?” Steve asks, causing Dustin to look up at him with a questioning glint in his eye.

“Oh you got to face her wrath did you?” The younger boy laughs, amused at the thought of his normally cool and charming friend being bitched out by his older sister. “Yeah, she still hates you dude, never shuts up about you actually.”

“Wait, she talks about me?” His tone is hopeful, feeling pleased to know that he’s on her mind. I mean, that’s got to be a good sign, right?

“Calm down loverboy. It’s not a good thing.” Dustin smirks, though when he sees the downcast look on his friend's face, he can’t but sigh, patting him on the shoulder lightly. “Look, I think you’re cool, smart, charming, and some would say classically handsome but my sister usually refers to you as a no good, shit for brains, wank stain. Amongst other things, that’s usually her preferred term.”

Steve sighs at his words, combing his fingers through his hair awkwardly as he comes to terms with the fact that he quite possibly has a zero percent chance of becoming romantically involved with the intriguing girl. He knew that since leaving high school his luck with the ladies had severely dwindled, struggling to maintain a relationship that didn’t solely focus on sex, and yet, his heart sank a little lower knowing that the one girl that had truly piqued his interest was the one girl he would never stand a chance with.

Dustin, on the other hand, took pity on the boy he looked up to. Despite the countless tales of torture and misery that he knew Steve had put his sister through during their school years, he knew that the boy had changed. Sure, he’d felt sympathy towards Steve when he ended up working at Scoops Ahoy following his graduation, knowing how much it took a hit to his ego that he’d lost his King Steve title and was now serving children scoops of ice cream every passing day. However, he knew that the shitty job was a good thing for his friend, alongside his role as the unofficial group babysitter and assisting in their pursuit to save Hawkins, Dustin knew deep down that taking such a low blow was Steve’s saving grace. Reminding him that he wasn’t in fact above everybody else and truly changing him for the better. The young boy had seen it, but he also couldn’t blame his sister for being blind to it.

“Look Steve, I know that you’re a good person and I know that you’ve changed but you put Y/N through hell. She struggled a lot at the hands of you and your friends and I know she’d kill me for telling you this but she’s been in therapy since she was fourteen years old because of what you guys did to her. We were really worried about her actually.” Dustin admits, Steve’s breath catching in his throat as he hears the shakiness in the boy’s voice. “My parents still are. She didn’t even bother applying to college, and now she spends most of her time hiding herself away in her room or getting high with Eddie.”

“Dustin I’m so sorry, I don’t even remember her.” Steve states, struggling to get over the sinking feeling in his stomach that seems to be consuming him.

“Of course you don’t remember her, you only thought about yourself and your stupid friends back then.” Those words hit Steve like a ton of bricks, never had anybody truly called him out on his former behavior, not to this extent anyway. “Look, you just need to show her you’re a good guy, I’m not gonna say it’ll be easy because if I know Y/N, then I know she can be a cruel, heartless bitch, but I also know that she has a good heart and as long as you can prove to her that you’re sorry and that you’ve changed then she’ll come around. Maybe just wait until after we’ve destroyed the Mind Flayer.”

***

Monday nights at the roller rink are always notoriously quiet, only a couple of people passing through our doors for the majority of the night. I’ve argued with my manager on numerous occasions, pleading with him to change our closing time from eleven to nine, but to no avail, I fail every single time. As a punishment for doing so, I’m placed on almost every monday night shift alone, which wouldn’t be too bad, had I something to do. Instead I stand at the counter, lazily snacking on some popcorn that I most definitely didn’t pay for, awaiting any customers that may wander into the building.

Hearing the large doors squeak open, I immediately straighten my posture, my best winning smile slapped on my face as I prepare to serve the group that just strolled through the doors. That is until I see the group just so happens to be the same group that I dropped off at the mall earlier in the day. Smile dropping from my face almost instantly.

“What do you want?”

“Don’t you mean, welcome to Paradise Skate World, how can I be of assistance?” Eddie jokes, leaning against the countertop.

“No, I mean what do you want?”

Wasting no time, the group excitedly shout their shoe sizes at me, a flurry of words and numbers that I struggle to understand. After swapping a few pairs multiple times, I finally manage to line nine pairs of rollerskates along the countertop, the kids frantically grabbing at them and discarding their personal shoes all over the floor. Not caring to use the cubby holes provided.

“That’ll be twenty seven dollars please.” My voice is monotonous, not caring to be pleasant with them, not that they seem to care.

Steve doesn’t speak as he hands over thirty dollars, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’ as I hand him his change. He sits beside Robin on one of the dirty old benches, helping her to lace up the boots before slowly escorting her over to the rink where she is left in the capable hands of the younger teens. Who, for whatever reason, all seem to be incredibly confident on eight wheels.

Having lost sight of Steve as my attention was fixed on the kids gleefully skating around the rink, I round the counter preparing to pick up all of their discarded shoes, only to see the boy already on the floor matching pairs of shoes together.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” I tell him, joining him on the carpet to gather together the rest of the shoes.

If I didn’t dislike him so much, I’d think his actions were sweet. Paying for the entire group and cleaning up after them, he’s a customer service worker's dream, yet I still can’t help but feel resentful. Why couldn’t he have been like this in high school?

“I know, but those guys make so much mess that it’s not fair to leave it all for you to clean up.” Steve comments, placing the last pair of shoes in one of the cubby holes. He rises to his feet slowly before offering his hand to help me up. However, I choose not to accept his help, rising to my feet without his assistance.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

He smiles softly at me, returning to the bench to remove his own shoes and placing the rollerskates on. When he rises from the bench, I can’t help but giggle at the shakiness in his legs, standing like a baby deer, he just about makes it to the countertop before needing to grab hold of it in order to keep himself upright. Resulting in a loud laugh from me, finding much amusement in the situation.

“Need some help Harrington?” I ask through my roars of laughter, having to cover my mouth to keep my volume down as he looks at me with sheer panic in his eyes.

“You sure you don’t wanna just stand there and laugh at me in my time of need?” He questions, flashing a cheesy smile my way to ensure I know that he is joking.

With a small sigh, I make my way over to him, taking his hands in mine, forcing him to let go of the countertop that he was clutching onto.

“I may not like you Steve Harrington, but I’m not gonna let you fall on your ass like an idiot, not with the kids watching.” I state, walking backwards at a snail’s pace to allow him to find his feet. “Besides, it’s company policy to offer a hand when needed.”

Steve laughs at my words, a deep chuckle that causes my mouth to quirk upwards. Am I actually smiling in the presence of Steve Harrington? Shaking my head, I rid myself of the contentment on my face.

“I’m going to embarrass myself aren’t I?” He asks, staring over my shoulder towards the rink with worry. “I don’t know why they thought this was a good idea, I’ve never skated in my life.”

“That’s probably exactly why they wanted to come here. They get to embarrass you and they also get to annoy the fuck out of me at the same time.”

“I’ll try my best to keep them from annoying you, it’s the least I can do after ruining your peaceful evening.” His voice is soft, and I find myself unable to look away from his face.

It comes as no shock that the boy is attractive, he had girls falling over their feet for him since the moment he hit puberty. I’d never understood the obsession with King Steve, though I suppose I’d never been this close to him before. Never able to see how boyishly handsome he was.

Chestnut brown hair that falls lazily over his forehead, coffee coloured eyes that hold a deep softness and a cheeky twinkle. His nose falls in a perfect slope, lips plump in a gorgeous salmon color with a sprinkling of light freckles scattered across his face. He truly is the epitome of beauty, it’s just such a shame that his personality is completely lacking.

I’m snapped out of my trance when I feel the hardwood of the rink beneath my feet, hesitantly letting go of Steve’s hands as he pushes himself forward ever so slowly. Testing the waters as to how far he can go without falling flat on his face.

“Well you did it. Now you just have to show that pack of dickheads that their ploy to embarrass you isn’t going to work.”

He smiles at my comment, opening his mouth to say something in return, however, I spin myself around and hastily walk back to my position at the counter before he can say anything. Muttering a small ‘have fun’ as I do so. Not wanting to be entranced by him further and not wanting to forget about all the shit he put me through just because we had a fairly nice interaction for all of ten minutes.

In an effort to distract myself, I busy myself with cleaning any and every surface behind the counter. Very unusual behavior for me, but at this point, I would do anything to get the thought of Steve possibly being a good person out of my mind. Even if I have to spend my time cleaning to do so. Though, I guess anything is better than gazing longingly over at the boy in the rink and trying to ignore the racing of my heart.

“You know, I used to think Steve was a bad guy too.”

Robin’s voice startles me as I don’t notice her standing by the counter, she’s smirking playfully at me.

“How the fuck are you and him friends? I mean, no offense but you’re exactly the type of person whose life he would’ve ruined in high school.” I don’t mean to come across as rude but my tone definitely says otherwise, Robin raising her eyebrows at my statement, clearly taking offense.

“Steve has a good heart, he’s doing his best. I know it’s not my place to say anything and I have no idea what went down between the two of you but what I do know is that if he can reconcile with Nancy, Jonathan and Eddie then perhaps that’s a sign you should give him a chance.” Robin remarks and against my best judgment, my eyes instantly find him out on the floor of the rink. Max and El hold his hands as they drag him around, all proudly displaying their delight.

“He did a lot of fucked up shit to me Robs.” I sigh, knowing that no matter how much I want to forgive him, I’ll most likely take my hatred to the grave. “They all did.”

The girl follows my lead and releases her own sigh, reaching across the countertop to take my hands in her’s. Thumbs gently stroking the backs of my palms.

“I know, I’m not going to excuse his behavior. He was a complete asshole, even when I first met him, I thought he was an asshole but he proved me wrong. Trust me, I never thought I’d be over here vouching for Steve Harrington of all people.” Robin’s gaze never leaves mine as she speaks, asserting just how much she truly means the words she’s saying. “Just maybe try to let go of that grudge you’re holding, I reckon you two would actually make pretty good friends.”

***

Regardless of how much I tossed and turned, Robin’s words kept me awake for hours. Unable to sleep and with no sign of tiring myself out anytime soon, I decided to do the next best thing. Hence why I am now sitting on one of the many docks stretching out into the depths of Lovers Lake. Joint in hand as I try to process all the emotions I had managed to bury deep within me for so long.

The joint does nothing to soothe my shaking body, though I’m unsure of whether it’s from the frosty fall air or the recent events that seem to have dredged up everything in my past that I had tried to forget, either way, I wrap my fur coat tighter around myself as a weak attempt to ease the shaking. God, if only Dustin hadn’t gone and befriended the one person that caused me so much pain.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize anybody would be here.” The voice from behind catches me by surprise, not expecting anybody else to be down here at two am. Glancing over my shoulder, I can’t help but laugh at the world’s cruel sense of humor as the person racing through my mind stands only mere feet away. “Wait, are you crying?”

Raising a trembling hand to my face, I feel the dampness of my cheeks, clearly too high to discern that I had in fact been crying. The fact causing me to laugh once more and Steve’s face floods with one of worry, hesitantly trudging towards me and taking a seat beside me, swinging his feet over the side of the dock in the same manner as mine.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, genuinely seeming to care about the reason for my tears, tone soft with no evidence of an ulterior motive.

“No.” I admit, offering him a weak smile whilst quickly wiping the tears away that roll down my face. “No, I’m not okay and I haven’t been for such a long time and I don’t even know why I’m telling you this because it’s all your fault.”

Steve’s mouth opens to speak and yet no words come out. Guilt scrawled across his face as he attempts to come up with the words to comfort me. Once again, I can’t help but laugh at the humorous nature of the situation. I’ve never opened up to anybody about how I’m truly feeling, hell, even my therapist doesn’t know the half of it but who feels comfortable enough to voice their darkest thoughts to a complete stranger in a very clinical setting? I’m going to blame the joint for my willingness to open up to the one person who I’d rather never speak to again.

“It’s probably really shitty of me and you probably don’t want to hear it but I am so sorry Y/N. Truly, I can’t even begin to describe how sorry I am.” Steve tells me, voice shaking and almost catching in his throat, however, he never once looks away from me. Forcing himself to own up to what he did. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Taking a drag of the joint, we remain in silence for a few moments, the only sounds to be heard are that of my repeated sniffles. It’s almost comforting in a way that the boy doesn’t speak, not rushing me nor pressuring me to accept his apology.

“It’s funny you know, I thought I would’ve moved on from it by now. I thought that as soon as I graduated I would’ve been able to forget everything that you and your friends did to me and leave it all in the past.” I state, not even knowing where to start. I never expected to be in this position, never thought I’d get the chance to confront the monsters from my childhood but as he sits before me, he doesn’t seem to be much of a monster. “You and Carol and Tommy, you guys destroyed me. You hated me so much that I began to hate myself and I’ve never recovered from that.”

Steve lets out a sharp exhale, causing me to look over at him and what I see shocks me deeply. Although he’s trying his best to hide it, I don’t miss the tears that fall slowly down his cheeks. Guilt consuming him as he comes to terms with his actions and the direct consequences they had as a result.

“I almost killed myself, Steve.”

My words hit him like a knife to the chest and his head is snapping to face me so fast, I fear he may have given himself whiplash. Mouth slightly open in shock as he processes what I just confessed.

“You, you wh-”

“You’re not to blame for that. I could never blame you for that.” I whisper, feeling lighter as I open myself up more and more for the very first time.

“How, how did-” Steve stops himself before he speaks, this time it’s him that’s wiping away tears. “What happened?”

I know Steve is questioning whether it’s appropriate to ask. Unsure of whether I’m willing to talk about the most traumatic most of my life thus far, especially with him. With nerves coursing through my veins, I shakily offer him the joint, he accepts with a small smile, slowly taking a long drag, allowing the weed to flood through his body.

“Junior year. I think I’d been planning it for a while, or at least thinking about it. That day, I think you must’ve been at a basketball game or something, Carol and Tommy they-” I sob hysterically, feeling so much shame as I explain everything to him. “They cornered me in an alley as I was walking home. It was just the usual insults, but when I didn’t react they got angry. I don’t really remember it all, I think I’ve tried to black it out but I woke up unconscious in that alley, and I just remember feeling so at peace when I laid there.

So I went home, ran straight up to my room because I didn’t want anybody to see me. As soon as I looked in the mirror, I just felt disgusting. My eye was all swollen and my face was just covered in bruises and scratches. Not that I felt beautiful before, but I felt hideous.

I’d been hoarding my pills for weeks at that point and I just began to take them. Handfuls at a time, I think I got about halfway through my stockpile before my mom walked in. She was screaming and crying and I couldn’t do anything, I just passed out.”

“Fuck.” Steve whispers, trying to suppress his own sniffles.

“I was in the hospital for about a week, apparently they pumped my stomach and I only have very minor damage to my internal organs. I had to practically beg them not to take me to the psych ward though.” I chuckle at the memory, pleading with the doctors that I was fine and it was all just a mistake, even though that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“I had no idea that Carol and Tommy did that to you.” Steve admits, dropping the joint into the lake as he clenches his fists tightly at the thought of what took place in that alleyway. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I could spend my life apologizing to you and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

I’ve never seen Steve so emotional before, candidly breaking down in the most vulnerable way as he allows his sobs to be released. Face flushed scarlet and throat raw from how much he is wailing. I thought I would feel better if I made him feel the same as he made me feel. If I made him cry so hard that he thought he would never feel happiness again. However, seeing him in this state doesn’t even make me the tiniest bit happier. It doesn’t bring me an ounce of joy to see the boy this way no matter how much I thought I would.

In all honesty, it hurts more so knowing that my words are the cause of the pain and turmoil that Steve is in right now. As much as I had built up such a cold and callous exterior trying desperately to protect myself from the harshness of this world, I know deep down that internally, I’m nothing like I portray myself to be.

Once he gains his composure, Steve manages to speak through deep breaths, “Do you know what’s funny?”

His question throws me off guard, tilting my head and raising a brow, alerting him of my piqued interest.

“I’ve also tried to block out most of high school. I didn’t even recognise you today and couldn’t understand why you were acting the way you were. Which I now realize makes me sound like even more of a dickhead.” He laughs quietly, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck to relieve the tension within him. “As soon as I got home, I spent hours, staring at your pictures in the yearbook, remembering everything that we put you through. I’ve never felt more guilty about something in my life and I felt disgusted with myself that I would treat such a beautiful person as though they were anything but.”

“You’re just saying that.” I retort, not wanting to believe that he would spend so long staring at the photos of me that I hated so much. Not only that but not wanting to believe he could find such photos of me to be beautiful.

“I mean it! I was a stupid, pathetic little boy that just wanted to prove myself to the people that I thought were cool. I never thought about the effect my actions were having on people and now that high school’s over, none of that popularity shit matters.” He states, wishing that he could take back all of the cruel things he did to his peers. “None of it matters. I’m a fucking loser now. I work at an ice cream store in the mall where I have to wear a stupid sailor’s outfit, I have no college prospects, no girlfriend and I hang out with a bunch of sixteen year olds in my spare time. All that high school shit, it means nothing now.”

“You’re not a loser Steve Harrington.” I giggle, nudging his shoulder gently with my own. “You’ve just made some very poor decisions that are now biting you on the ass.”

“Hey, why aren’t you at college? If the yearbook is anything to go by you were one of the smartest people in our grade.”

I try not to feel upset by the boy’s question, knowing he means no harm. However, I also know that as much as Steve has made poor decisions, so have I. Decisions that directly affected my path to college and resulted in me working at the roller rink.

“Didn’t study those yearbooks well enough clearly.” I joke, believing that if I’m able to laugh about my situation then perhaps I won’t burst into tears yet again. “Last year I kind of gave up with school. After what happened junior year, I just didn’t see the point in trying anymore. Started skipping classes and when I was there I was too high to learn anything. My grades dropped and so did my chances at college.”

“I really fucked things up for you didn’t I?” Steve asks, tone suggesting it’s more of a statement rather than I question.

“The roller rink isn’t so bad, I mean I get to skate for free and the pay is pretty good.”

I can tell he doesn’t quite believe me, he knows I’m bothered about not going to college, despite this, he doesn’t push me. Doesn’t force me to admit the truth. For that, I’m thankful.

Casting my gaze over the lake, the first light of the sun shines bright through the treeline. A warm amber glow, illuminating the still water beneath my feet. Birds wake from their slumber and their faint chirps echo across the lake. There’s something so peaceful within this moment and for the first time in years I feel as though a weight has been lifted from my chest. One that I was unaware had been weighing me down.

“I should probably be getting home before my parents wake up. Really don’t need to be giving my parents another reason to worry about me.” I state, steadily rising to my feet, the warmth instantly escaping my body as the sharp breeze nips at the full length of my body.

“Yeah, I should get back too, I should at least try to get some sleep before work.” Steve comments, walking in step with me along the dock.

We walk in silence, the sound of the dark oak creaking beneath our feet. A solemn cloud follows us as we head back to reality, most likely never to speak of this night again. Neither one of us wanting to reflect on the distress we shared at Lovers Lake.

“I think maybe people are right about you.” I declare upon reaching my truck, much to the shock of the boy standing opposite.

“What?” He asks, in disbelief at the confession I had just made.

“I think that maybe you are a good guy.”

***

“Have you taken your pills today?” My mom checks, shaking the little orange pill bottle on my desk as though she can feel if it is lighter than yesterday.

“Of course I have.” I mumble, dragging my hands across my face, exhausted from the late night I had endured.

“I’m only checking sweetheart, you know I worry about you.” She wraps her arms around me from behind as she speaks, squeezing me tightly, more so for her own comfort rather than mine. “Now, your dad and I are leaving town for a few nights. He has a meeting up in Indianapolis, but if you don’t feel like you’re well enough to stay here alone with Dusty then I am more than happy to stay behind.”

“Mom, I’ll be fine, honestly.” I whine, feeling guilty that she dwells on my wellbeing so much. “I promise.”

I love my parents. I really and truly do, more than anything on this earth. Nevertheless our relationship has been somewhat strained since the events of sophomore year. My mom treats me like I’m made of glass, one wrong move and I’ll shatter into one million tiny pieces. My dad is arguably even worse, refusing to even acknowledge what took place nor speaking on the topic of my mental stability. Dustin tries his hardest to make things feel normal, but there’s only so much a sixteen year old can do to try and hold their family in place.

Not only do I feel guilty about the way I make my parents stress about me, but I also feel guilty for the way this has affected Dustin. Our parents are often so preoccupied with ensuring that I’m well and doing fine, that they often forget about their other child. Sometimes, it feels as if I’m the only person that notices Dustin’s presence. Or lack thereof, what with him spending more and more time with his friends and Steve. Frequently returning home stressed, anxious or just generally in a bad mood and in all honesty his behavior has started to concern me. Though it appears that I may have been the only one to notice.

“I need a ride to Starcourt.” As if on cue, Dustin’s head pops around my bedroom door, demanding yet another ride.

“Your manners really could use some work kid.” I tell him, to which he shrugs and I find myself grabbing my keys with less reluctance than I had the previous day.

The drive to the mall passes by a lot faster than it had on the uncomfortable journey the day before. Filled with Dustin singing at the top of his lungs to whatever cheesy pop song was playing on the radio and me secretly hoping deep down that I’ll catch a glimpse, or even better a chance to talk to Steve again.

My former bully had somehow managed to penetrate my thoughts ever since we departed ways in the early hours of the morning. Consumed by the thoughts of where we go from here, was our emotional conversation reserved for that one night only or would we develop a casual friendship? As much as I was pretending like nothing had happened, I was itching to know how Steve was feeling.

Before I know it, I’m turning off the ignition and the boy in question is directly in my eyeline. Lazily smoking a cigarette against the side of the entrance to the mall. Presumably waiting for my little brother in order to escort him into Scoops Ahoy, so he is unable to cause any mischief on his way to the store.

Steve spots my truck almost instantly and I could be mistaken, but it certainly looks as though his eyes lock on mine straight away. I hardly register Dustin jumping out of the truck as Steve flicks the cigarette butt to the ground, strolling towards the truck and before I can stop myself I’m climbing out of my seat. Much to the surprise of my brother.

“Hi.” Steve mumbles nervously, a soft rose tint settling upon his cheeks.

“Hi.” I reply just as awkwardly, my face no doubt the same shade as his.

“Okay, this is weird. I’m just gonna-” Dustin uncomfortably points towards the main doors before hurrying off in that direction, eager to get away from whatever is happening between Steve and I.

“So about last night-”

“I want to forgive you.”

We both speak at the same time, sharing anxious smiles as neither of us dares to make the first move. Though after taking a deep breath, I find myself being the one to break the tension.

“I want to forgive you. I meant what I said, that I think you’re a good guy.” I state, timidly picking at my fingers as I try to look anywhere other than the dark haired boy. “I don’t think I’m fully there yet, I think I’ve still got some shit that I need to work through but I’d like to. You don’t deserve to be hated for the stuff you did as a kid, especially when I can see how hard you’re trying to be a better person.”

I’ve barely finished speaking when Steve’s arms are wrapped firmly around my shoulders, pulling me into a firm hug and for whatever strange reason, I hug him back. Cautiously sliding my arms around his toned waist and allowing my head to rest against his chest. Inhaling his scent deeply, an intense sandalwood with a hint of cigarette smoke and despite all of my logic within me screaming to snap out of it, I can’t resist his musk, finding myself strongly intoxicated by it.

“I swear you won’t regret it, I’m going to spend every day making it up to you for as long as I live.” Steve mutters into my hair, gently pulling away from me once he stops speaking.

“How about we start with a free ice cream and go from there?” I ask cheekily, causing him to beam cheerfully at me with a swift nod.

“I’m sure I can manage that.” He laughs, before we make our way into the mall, joining the group of kids inside Scoops Ahoy, much to Dustin’s disapproval at my presence.

Sliding into the booth besides Max, I’m acutely aware of the way the group huddles closer together, voices lowering to no louder than a whisper. Even Eddie Munson, who’s voice can usually be heard for miles, speaks in a hushed voice.

Narrowing my eyes, I try to pick up any of the conversation, only able to hear certain words here and there. Their side of the table is scattered with papers and I’m able to make out what looks like a map of Starcourt. Although I am completely baffled, if not slightly annoyed at their secrecy, I can only assume that this has something to do with one of their Dungeons and Dragons campaigns.

“You and Harrington made up then?” Robin inquires when I join her at the counter, resting my elbows against the cool marble.

“Kind of. I don’t know, we talked for hours last night and as much as I want to hate him, I just can’t.”

Robin can sense how difficult it is for me to acknowledge my willingness to believe her friend has changed. She knows that it’ll be a long road going forward, and yet she’s unable to hide her pride. Not only at her friend for accepting the suffering he caused, but also at my openness to trust that somehow Steve isn’t such a bad guy.

“Yeah I’ve heard, he hasn’t been able to talk about anything else other than the heart to heart you two shared last night. I’m really proud of him, he’s come a long way.” Robin explains, busying herself with preparing a milkshake that she smoothly slides my way with a knowing wink. “Consider that on me, you deserve it, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to make my childhood bullies confront their own actions the same way you did. It took real guts.”

“As much as I would like to take credit, I think the weed was probably more to thank.” I disclose, taking a short sip of the strawberry treat in front of me. “I have a tendency to get real honest when I’m high.”

“Don’t I know it sweetheart.” Eddie chortles, dipping his finger into the cream atop my milkshake and licking it off dramatically.

“Ew get your own!” I groan, pulling the glass away from the metalhead as he tries to swipe some more cream.

“Where’s Harrington anyway? Those little dickheads are going over our game plan and apparently he is a pivotal part in their plan and is needed right away.” The boy asks Robin, eyes scanning the room as if Steve is hiding in one of the red leather booths.

“He’s in the back, apparently he wanted to make Y/N’s ice cream extra special.” Robin speaks, nodding her head towards the staff only door.

“What’s he gonna do? Jizz on it?” The moment the words leave his mouth, Robin and I are both groaning, disgusted by the question.

“Do you have to be so repulsive all of the time?” I ask, hearing the squeak of a door followed by rapid footsteps.

“I didn’t hear any complaints when my mouth was between your legs!”

“That’s because you can’t speak whilst you're down there!”

So caught up in our current argument, I fail to spot Steve uneasily standing at the other side of the counter. A large scoop of cherry ice cream sits in a tub before him, decorated elegantly with a large helping of sprinkles, pieces of chocolate and a singular maraschino cherry placed neatly on top.

“Is this a bad time?” He questions hesitantly, carefully observing Eddie and I, a twinge of what I can only perceive as jealousy flashes across his face. However, it disappears before I analyze it any further.

“No, no. Not a bad time at all.” The words tumble out of my mouth with haste, Robin struggling to hide the amused expression on her face as she witnesses the tension between us.

“One scoop of cherry swirl, with all the toppings. On me, as promised.” He announces gleefully, pushing it towards me with a small plastic spoon, which I am more than happy to accept.

“Thank you.”

I delicately place the cherry between my lips, pulling it from the stem which I then twist between my fingers absentmindedly. Though, I feel the warmth rising to my cheeks as I catch sight of the three of them staring at me, eyes trained on my mouth.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone that can make eating fruit look so hot.” Eddie comments, pupils blown out causing me to grimace.

“Hey Steve! We need to go over the plan!” Lucas’ yell, alleviates the awkwardness of the current situation.

“Always the goddamn babysitter.” He mutters under his breath, offering me an apologetic glance before meandering over to the group of youths, Eddie Munson in tow.

“Now I don’t want to alarm you, especially not with how fresh your reconciliation with Steve is but I think he may have a teeny tiny crush on you.” Robin whispers, moving her head closer to mine in an effort to remain inconspicuous.

“What? No, no, he’s just being nice is all.” I shut down her theory quickly, fixating my gaze on the melting ice cream so as not to reveal the bashfulness slapped across my face. “Anyway, what’s that all about? New campaign? I didn’t think D&D would be the sort of things you and Steve would be into.”

“I see what you’re doing and I’m just going to go along with it.” Robin says, referencing the fact that I am so obviously trying to change the subject. She turns away from, as she continues to speak, occupying herself with refilling the toppings station. “It’s just a stupid thing they’re planning, some big quest. Steve and I just kind of got roped into it I guess, but it’s not so bad.”

Her response is vague and leaves me with more questions than I previously had, not entirely believing that her and Steve could possibly be lame enough to enjoy the fictional realms of Dungeons and Dragons. I let it slide though, thankful that she didn’t push me to discuss the possibility of Steve Harrington liking me and so I return the favor. Accepting that there is a very probable, most likely embarrassing reason that they’re not telling me about their secret activities.

***

Most young people would kill for the opportunity to have an empty house. It’s the time to throw wild parties or hook up with a guy without having to sneak around or risk being caught by nose parents. Or even worse, younger siblings. Had I been a normal eighteen year old girl, there was no doubt in my mind that I would be doing exactly that.

Instead, I’m lounging on my bed, recapping the events of the past couple of days to my diary as I try to fill the deafening sound of silence with the beautiful vocals of Stevie Nicks. I’d never truly realized just how eerie and isolating our home could be without the usual noise of my family. No football game broadcast on the television, or the clattering of pots in the kitchen, not even the sound of Dustin screaming down his walkie talkie. It fills me with a sense of unease that I can’t seem to shake.

Just as I’m about to try and fill the void by running the bathtub to take a relaxing soak, I become distracted by the high pitched shrill of the phone on my bedside table. Curiosity engulfing me and I wonder who could be calling me at such a late hour. Better yet, who has got the phone number that is usually only reserved for Eddie or my parents.

“Y/N, I don’t have much time so you have to listen to me carefully!” Steve’s voice is full of panic as he hurriedly speaks down the line, my body instantly going stiff at the urgency of his tone. “I’m so sorry and I should’ve told you sooner but Dustin was adamant that he wanted to keep you out of it.”

“Out of what? What’s going on? Is Dustin okay?”

“I can’t explain other the phone, you’d never believe me anyway, but we really need your help. Just get to the Starcourt as soon as you can, please. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.” Steve spits out, the uproar of what sounds like wind almost drowning him out. “And bring a weapon!”

With that, the line cuts off. I remain still, nostrils flared as my hands continue to hold on to the phone, knuckles white. My heart feels like it is about to burst violently out of my chest and I struggle to gain my composure with such short, rapid breaths.

“Okay, it’s gonna be okay. I’m sure it’s nothing, they probably just need a ride again.” I mumble to myself, grabbing my keys and racing down the stairs. “Yeah, that makes total sense, I mean a girl should always carry a weapon when alone at night.”

Hands trembling furiously, I stand opposite my dad’s rifle cabinet, staring at the gun through the sheer glass. Questioning whether I’m truly about to take his property. I’ve only shot a gun once, I was twelve and my dad took me hunting. It didn’t become a regular thing, my dad refusing to take me again after I burst into tears upon shooting a deer.

Despite the fear racing through my body, before I can even think about what I’m doing, I’m grabbing a vase off one of the shelves. Using all of my strength to smash it straight into the glass, thousands of miniscule shards flying everywhere. Flinching as it hits me with force, ripping open small wounds across the exposed skin of my face, neck and arms. Though I only really register the injuries on my hand, the flesh of my knuckles shredded brutally from where my hand made contact with the pane. Vase doing little to take the extent of the collision.

A shaky exhale escapes my throat, grabbing the rifle despite my second thoughts. Sticky, crimson liquid dripping against the heel of the gun, staining the burnt mahogany.

“Sorry dad.” I speak quietly, frowning slightly upon seeing the mess of broken glass across the lounge.

In my hurry to leave, I don’t even bother to lock the doors of our house. Focusing on nothing other than getting to Starcourt as quickly as I physically can. Throwing the gun carelessly on my passenger seat, I’m in autopilot as I start the engine. My driving being much more reckless than usual, ignoring speed limits and stop signs in my race to get to the mall.

The closer I get, the more I start to question what type of danger I am just about to get myself into. Sky above the large building an array of violet and sapphire amidst the dark black of the night. Wind whirling harshly around my truck, the closer I get. It feels reminiscent of a tornado, a ruthless storm that holds no mercy.

Arriving in the parking lot, I’m able to see a singular car parked by the entry doors. Nancy, Jonathan, Will and Lucas scurry around the vehicle, clearly in search of something and don’t seem to care at all about the volatile weather that Hawkins is experiencing.

“Hey, what’s going on? Where’s Dustin?” I shout, rifle in hand as I sprint towards the burgundy car. The group ignoring my arrival and instead climbing into the vehicle’s interior.

Squeezing myself in besides Will and Lucas, it’s only at that moment that they acknowledge me. Faces ranging from confusion, to shock, to anger. Not a single one of them displays any positive emotion at my being there.

“What are you doing here?” Jonathan asks, voice raised and tone harsh, wounding me more so than I thought possible.

“Where the fuck is Dustin?” I spit, solely caring about ensuring the safety of my baby brother. Knowing that if anything happened to him I would never forgive myself. “Where the fuck is my brother?”

‘I don’t know, okay Y/N. He’s with Erica!” Nancy yells, preoccupied with pulling open the glove compartment and rooting around urgently.

“Erica? Erica as in your ten year old sister?” I snap, attention diverted towards Lucas who stares at me with worry, afraid of how I am about to react. “What the actual fuck?”

“Look I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we’re kind of in the middle of something and you really shouldn’t be here.” Nancy tells me, finally turning herself to look at me from the passenger seat.

I’ve never seen her look so troubled, face free of makeup and stress lines prominent. She’s too young to look as agonized as she does, asserting to me that whatever is currently taking place is far beyond what I could have ever imagined. Far more threatening than anything I could dream up.

“I think I’ve got it.” Jonathan announces, a chorus of relieved sighs escaping the group.

“Get it started then.” Nancy pushes, watching anxiously as Jonathan begins to fiddle with the car wires, hands clammy from the stress of the current circumstances.

“Guys, we could have a problem.” Will mutters, eyes trained out of the window to the otherside of the parking lot.

A car sits ominously, headlights pointing directly towards us. Nancy and Jonathan both curse under their breath, and despite having no knowledge about what is taking place, even I can understand that this is clearly not a good sign. Even worse when the vehicle begins to drive slowly straight at us.

Unaware of my own actions and unable to stop myself, I’m rounding the car confidently. Standing right in the path of the oncoming vehicle, I raise the rifle, releasing the safety and pointing directly towards what I can assume is the driver’s seat. Struggling to see effectively against the bright beam of the headlights.

My move seems to threaten the driver, the car gaining speed and barrelling at us with no sign of stopping. Despite the fear that has overcome me since receiving Steve’s call, whilst standing in the path of immediate peril, I feel weirdly at ease. Unbothered by the potential risk of death that I am face to face with.

“What are you doing?” I hear Nancy scream, her voice sounds as though it is miles away when I know in reality she is almost right behind me, tucked away inside the automobile.

Steadying my breath, I squint my eyes in an attempt to better my aim, before releasing the trigger. Having no time to think about the consequences of my actions nor the moral implications of shooting at a living being that formerly plagued my mind, releasing bullet after bullet as the driver steps on the gas. Accelerating at such an extreme pace that I can only fire so much before having to accept my twisted fate.

With the car only mere feet away, I drop the gun, fearing that no matter how well I shoot, there is no winning this fight. Grabbing my head, in a weak attempt to protect myself, I drop to the ground, eyes closed tightly as I prepare to face the impact.

I’ve never been a religious person, but the only thoughts flying around my brain are prayers of protecting my family. Prayers of Dustin’s safety as he faces whatever is coming for him. Prayers that my passing is swift and painless. Prayers that this is all over quickly.

And yet, nothing comes.

Warily, I open my eyes, removing my hands from my cautiously, only to see none other than Steve Harrington, reeling from the impact of smashing his car straight into the one headed my way. His eyes find mine and my heart stops, the look of sheer relief on his face is indescribable.

Rising to my feet, Steve’s hurriedly climbing out of the vehicle and by my side in a second. Face bloodied and bruised, despite that, he’s solely focused on me, scanning over me intently, worriedly taking in all the minor wounds I obtained from shattering the rifle cabinet.

“What happened to your hand?” He’s asking breathlessly, my mind preoccupied with the knowledge that he just put himself in harm's way to save my life.

I can’t find the words to say anything as I take in the sight of his swollen eye and the stains of dried blood coating the lower half of his face. My mouth opens to speak and no words seem to slip out, mesmerized by Steve’s beauty in spite of his unsightly injuries.

Blaming the adrenaline, I find myself throwing my arms around the boy’s neck, pulling him into me and squeezing tightly. His hands settle on my hips, touch firm, fearing that if he were to let go that I would simply disappear. Absentmindedly, my fingers delicately thread through the strands of dark hair at the nape of his neck. Needing to be close to him.

“You just saved my life.”

My voice is no louder than a whisper, breath hot against his neck as I nuzzle myself closer to him. Feeling safe and secure in his embrace. Desperately needing the comfort right now, even if it is coming from the most unexpected of places.

“Uh guys! We should be getting out of here! Like now!” I hear Robin shout, releasing myself from Steve’s hold to see that not only has Jonathan managed to get their car started but also that Billy Hargrove is now stumbling out of his vehicle and has his sights set on us once again.

Neither of us need to say a word, abandoning my truck in the Starcourt parking lot and speeding away from the mall and ultimately the danger that lies in wait there.

***

The Battle of Starcourt resulted in the mall burning to the ground. Dustin and I reunited later that night at Steve’s house, the pair of them, alongside Robin, explained everything to me over a much needed pot of tea. El’s powers, demogorgons, Russian soldiers and the Mind Flayer. It was certainly a lot to take in and I could only apologize to my brother for not being there for him throughout all of this taking place. Wishing I could have helped him from the start.

It’s been a struggle adjusting to my daily life for the past couple of days. Dustin’s been staying at the Byers’ household, wanting the comfort of his friends and with a lack of parental presence in our home, the place feels cold. I can understand his decision completely, yet I can’t help but feel alone in such a big house.

I spend my nights awake, unable to sleep, and when I do manage to drift off, I’m plagued by nightmares of that car barreling towards me. My days aren’t any better. Alone with my thoughts at the roller rink, dreaming up all of the ways that the events of the night could have gone differently, most resulting in the deaths of either Dustin and I. And if I’m not at work, I lounge around my home, hopelessly trying to occupy my mind from the swirling images of Starcourt.

Steve and I haven't spoke since that night, more so my fault than his. I’d closed myself off again, become a recluse and struggled to leave the house with the exception of work. I believed that my mind had been playing tricks on me that night when I found myself enamored by his beauty. Or that it was simply the adrenaline and the intensity of the circumstances that I needed his embrace. However, the more I think about it, the more I believe that it was a decision of the heart rather than caused by the stress of the night.

Standing outside the Harrington household, I wonder if I am making a huge mistake. I hadn’t intended to come here, only leaving my house to take a brisk walk and yet here I find myself, fist raised in preparation to knock. Though making no effort to do so. In all honesty, I think I just need to talk to somebody about what transpired and Steve is the only person that I can willingly open up to.

“Y/N?” The boy’s voice startles me, he’s standing in the doorway dressed in plaid pajama pants and a loose black sweater. The wounds on his face are still prominent, though evidently more healed than the last time I had seen him.

“I’m sorry, I was going for a walk but I guess I just instinctively came here. My house is too quiet and I just really need to talk to somebody.” I confess, staring down at my bandaged hand so as to not make eye contact with Steve.

“You walked here?” He’s shocked by my admission, not that I’m surprised. Living on the other side of town, the walk to his house is easily an hour long, if not more.

“Well my truck kind of went down with the mall.” I laugh softly, though it sounds more forced than I intended.

“You should’ve called, I would’ve picked you up.” He tells me, voice gentle as he opens the door for me to enter his home, following me through to the lounge where we collapse onto the couch.

He has a small fire crackling away, the orange embers lighting up the room and subsequently offering a toastiness in comparison to the chilly night air.

“What’s going on? Are you?” There’s a tenderness to his voice, speaking to me the way you would speak to a timid animal so as not to frighten them. It’s sweet.

“Do you get nightmares from that night?” I ask shyly, not wanting him to view me as weak for struggling with the things that occurred.

Steve sighs, settling further into the couch as he takes his time figuring out how to say what he wants to get across. Part of him wanting to lie and pretend that everything is fine, the other part of him knowing that he should just be honest and recognize his feelings.

“Yeah.” Steve settles on the one word reply, deciding it may be the better option rather than confessing the truth as to what occurs in these nightmares.

“I haven’t been sleeping much, everytime I do, all I see is that car. Or Dustin’s lifeless body and it’s horrible. Waking up alone, hyperventilating, nobody there to tell me it’ll be okay. I don’t know how I can keep going like this.” I admit, daring to look at the boy and noticing the pained expression on his face.

“Can I be honest?” He whispers, words so quiet I almost don’t hear them. Nodding nervously, his eyes fall to his lap as he speaks. “Everytime I shut my eyes, I can only think about what would’ve happened had I not got to you in time.”

“But you did-”

“You would’ve died, you would’ve died and it would’ve been my fault because I was the one who asked you to come.” He’s crying as he talks, recounting that night and what could have been.

“Steve, you did save me. You’re the entire reason that I’m sitting here right here now. You’re a hero Steve Harrington.” I tell him, shuffling closer and taking his hands in mine. To which he brushes his fingers over my bandaged knuckles. “A very stupid, idiotic, reckless hero. But a hero nonetheless.”

“I would’ve never forgiven myself if I’d let you die. Fuck, I can’t even forgive myself for the way I treated you in school.” He states, gazing over my face and taking in the handful of miniscule cuts scattered across my cheeks from the shattering of the cabinet.

“Would it help if I told you that I forgive you?” I ask, soft smile settled upon my lips.

“Are you sure? I know I hurt you and I don’t want you to feel like you have to forgive me because of what happened and-”

“Steve, I forgive you.” I cut him off, squeezing his hands as I do so. “Not just because of what happened. I mean I’d probably be a shitty person if I didn’t forgive you when you deliberately put your own life at risk to save mine but, you’re a good person. I can see that now. You’re a really good person with a really good heart and in all honesty I think-”

My heart jumps to my throat as I realize what I’m about to confess. Questioning how I even got myself into this mess. If you told sixteen year old me that only two years later I would be sitting on the couch of my nemesis about to own up to the feelings that I may or may not have for him, she would’ve laughed in your face.

“Can I kiss you?” Steve asks softly, before I am able to finish what I’m saying, thankful that I no longer have to find the words.

“I’d really like that.”

The boy’s hand is gentle as he cups my cheek, apprehensively bringing his face to my own and brushing his lips lightly over mine. He’s cautious at first, testing out the waters to ensure that I am truly comfortable. Though, when I push myself closer, fisting his sweater in my hands, he exerts the passion that he had been holding black. Lips moving in sync with mine and bringing his free hand to caress my waist delicately. As the heat grows and any nerves wash away, he effortlessly slides his tongue into my mouth. Shy whimper escaping my mouth as he does so.

When he pulls away, I don’t miss the string of saliva that connects our lips to one another and can’t help but smile. Heart fluttering as Steve’s eyes focus on me adoringly.

“I guess all the rumors were right.” I tease as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, tilting his head slightly at my words. “You really are good at that, King Steve.”

“Oh ha ha.” He replies sarcastically, pulling me into his side and allowing me to rest my head on his chest. Listening intently to the steady beat of his heart.

“Can I stay here tonight? I can’t face another night alone.” I ask, tracing circles across his stomach, his hands stroking my hair lightly.

“I’d like that.”

Whilst I lay in the arms of Steve Harrington, I couldn’t help but feel as though things were starting to look up for me. Sure, it didn’t happen in the way that I was expecting or perhaps wanted. I certainly could have done without the monsters but right now, I finally felt at peace. Even if it was only for a little bit.

#steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington fic #Steve Harrington x female!reader #Steve Harrington x henderson!reader #robin buckley #dustin henderson #stranger things fic #stranger things au #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things

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funnylittlelad · 2 years ago

Text

Hey, Baby, It's Me.

summary: Steve meets his daughter for the first time and finally finds a name for her.

wc: 4.3k

tags/warnings: single teen parenthood, hospitals, Steve's shitty parents, Robin's not shitty parents, Steve is on an emotional rollercoaster, a good dose of angst and fluff, no romantic pairings (takes place before Steve and Eddie meet)

this fic is a spin-off prequel to Shelter From The Storm, but can be read on its own.

Read on AO3

The call comes in at six in the morning. On instinct, Steve shoots awake and scrambles for the phone. His parents are home, but no one calls here for them. If one of Steve’s friends wakes them up… He answers a little groggy and irritated. Once the wobbly voice over the line comes in, he’s wide awake and on the move.

“Just- just be there. I- I don't want-” Sarah’s words come stilted with an anxious tremble.

Steve has the phone between his ear and shoulder. He dances around the coiled cord as he hops to pull his jeans up.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he assures her softly, “I’ll be there. You don't have to worry-”

“I’m not,” she sighs, “About me, anyway. It’s… her. I want to make sure someone is here for her.”

Steve’s stomach twists. Her. The baby, she means. The one she won't help Steve name. The one she gave him all the sonogram pictures of, keeping none for herself. At least she’s graduated from saying it. That was killing Steve.

“I’m on my way. I’ll be there,” he promises.

They bid each other goodbye and Steve finishes throwing on his clothes. He ends up in a pair of jeans from two days ago that he left on the floor and a rumpled Hawkins High Class of ‘85 hoodie. By the time he’s half skipping down the hallway to the entry, pulling his shoes on as he goes, his parents wake up. He looks up at where they stand on the stairs, hovering above him like the blade of a guillotine. Right now, Steve doesn't care if there's a basket ready to catch his head. He has a daughter to meet. His heart races in anticipation at the thought.

“Where are you going?” His father asks dryly.

Steve glances over his shoulder at the sky through the door windows. Early sunlight reaches through as if it's attempting to grab Steve and drag him to the hospital.

“Hospital- Sarah called,” Steve informs them as he finishes tying his shoes.

His father makes an unsatisfied hm. He stares at Steve down his strong nose, pins him to the floor with cold eyes, and frowns.

“Do you need-” His mother begins.

“No, Martha,” his father chides, “He’s a man. He doesn't need anything from us. Even if he did, he’s made his decision.”

Steve’s nostrils flare. His eyes shoot to his mother. He doesn't expect anything, but he still kind of hopes. He hopes she’ll end up caring enough to fight for him, for her granddaughter, now that push has come to shove. Now that the months of threats and fights have come to a head crowning in Roann General Hospital. She doesn't. She simply exhales through her nose, fixes a nice neutral expression onto her face, and nods curtly in agreement with his father. Bile rises to the back of Steve’s throat, but he tries to push it down. He knew it would be like this. He knew not to want for anything else. Yet, here he is, disappointed in his parents- not for the first time, but certainly for the last.

“Yeah, you’re right. I have made my decision,” Steve huffs and stands fully.

He snatches his keys from the dish on the table by the door.

“Steven,” his father’s stern voice grabs hold of him by the throat.

He uses a tone that Steve knows too well. It’s usually followed by a rather unpleasant scene. A scene that Steve won't let unfold today. He has places to be. With the promise of his daughter’s imminent arrival, he isn't afraid of John Harrington anymore. Not for himself, anyways.

“Yeah?” Steve sighs impatiently.

“You’ll never be able to do this on your own,” his father tells him as if he were sharing the fact that the sky is blue.

Ice drips down Steve’s spine. His eyes can't stay still on his father’s serious expression. It's like the hardwood beneath his feet just turned into choppy waters and Steve is a sailor lost at sea. It isn't like he hasn't had the thought, the doubt, the past nine months. Every day has been filled to the brim with it. Still, even in the face of all that, he knows one thing. He has to do more than his parents did.

“I have to try,” he states plainly.

His father lets out a dark chuckle.

“Is that what you think parenthood is? Simply trying,” he scoffs, “You aren't ready for this. Clearly, since you’re already making the worst decisions you could as a parent. Choosing to be single, to go off on your own, unable to support yourself. You’re naive if you think you have a chance, Steven. You’ll be back before it leaves the hospital. Alone.”

There’s that word again. It. Months of it swirl around in Steve’s head as his father’s words mingle. His hands begin to tremble. He can feel the words sink in, find a home deep in his skin with no plans to leave for the next decade at least. Steve may end up being a shit father. He may not know what he's doing or how he's going to do it. He may even believe his father that he isn't ready for this. How could he be? He’s seventeen for Christ's sake. Yet, that small two-letter word burns behind his eyes.

“She,” he states through grit teeth.

“Excuse me?”

“Not it, she. She is your granddaughter,” he snaps.

His father’s nostrils flare.

“Tell me, does she even have a name? Have you and her mother- ah, yes, right, she won't have a mother.”

Steve takes a shaky breath. He can feel the seconds ticking by until they're minutes out the window. Minutes he could be spending going to his daughter, but he's instead stuck wasting here on his father. His chest tightens as he holds in a scream. This is the last thing he wants to be doing right now.

“You don't- Just because we won't be together doesn't mean Sarah won't help,” he snarls, knowing the lack of truth in his words.

That was the whole deal. Sarah won't help. Steve is on his own. As those thoughts swirl he suddenly isn't sure he’ll be able to do this. Panic grips his throat. He needs to get out of here before his father wins and the fear traps him in his bed once more. No, his daughter needs him. It’s about to be her first day on this planet. Steve will stop at nothing to make sure this world greets her with all the tenderness she deserves.

“Help? Do you hear yourself? You’re asking to ruin this child-”

“And what did you do?” Steve demands, cutting his father off for the first time in his life.

Steve half expects him to toss his mother out of the way and barrel after Steve. Instead, his face turns cold, something even scarier. The only thing worse than John Harrington violent is John Harrington calm.

“What?” His father asks slowly, the single world dripping in venom.

“If I’m asking to ruin her by being there for her and loving her and fucking doing my best then- then what did you do? I could fuck up a million different ways in the next twenty minutes and I would still be doing a better job than you did,” Steve bites, years of resentment breaching a dam that had been reinforced by steel.

His father watches him for a few moments. Each beat passes at a more painfully slow pace than the last. Finally, he lets out a single exhaled laugh that comes out more like a hmph .

“Well, I guess we’ll see about that, won't we?” He sneers.

“Yeah, I guess we will.”

Steve leaves with a slam of the door and races to his car. He's wasted enough time. Thankfully, traffic is forgiving. By the time he gets there, Sarah is in a room with her parents. They regard Steve with polite, but clearly forced, smiles. It's been no secret how they feel about him. He’s the no-good Harrington boy that tricked their poor innocent daughter into bed and knocked her up. Never mind that it was Sarah that started dragging him upstairs at that party. It’s fine, he can play that role if that's what Sarah needs from him. He’s made her life hard enough as it is.

“Hey, sorry I would've been here sooner, but my parents stopped me and-”

“Steve,” Sarah interrupts plainly, “it’s fine. Nothing’s happened yet.”

She gestures to her perfectly round middle where his daughter is still patiently waiting to be let out. Sarah groans, clamping her eyes shut and gripping the blanket until the wave of pain passes. Her bright red curls are pulled back sloppily. What whisps and strands hang out are glued to her face by sweat. Okay, maybe his daughter isn't waiting patiently, she’s definitely making her wait known.

“Right,” Steve nods, “Do you need anything? Water? Ice? Have you been given any medicine? I can find a nurse-”

“Steve,” Sarah interrupts once more, sounding agitated, “Just- Go wait. They’ll bring you to see i- her when it's done with.”

An unpleasant roil of Steve’s stomach kicks up.

“You… You don't want me in here? I- I can stay out of the way,” He offers sounding so much more meek than he’s like.

Sarah’s dad’s eyes are burning into the side of his face. Steve does his best to ignore it. It's not about them today. It’s not about Sarah and Steve. It’s about the baby that's trying to be born despite her mother’s best efforts.

“It’s just gonna be gross. Besides, don't you wanna tell like… Robin or something?”

Steve sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. He attempts to steel himself over, to pretend like this is perfectly fine. It doesn't work, but no one acknowledges the dejected nature of his nod. They don't comment on the slump of his shoulders as he stalks out of the room. He finds the nearest waiting room and locates a pay phone in the far corner. When he leans against it and pulls out his wallet he almost expects a fly to buzz out of the pathetically empty folds.

He manages to fish out a couple of dull quarters and pop them into the phone. There's a telltale clink of the quarters being accepted and a light clunk of them being swallowed. A voice tells him how many minutes he has and he punches in Robin’s number. They haven't been friends long, but she's about the only friend he really has at this point. The only one he’d care to wake up and tell about this at least. He can wait to tell the kids when the baby is actually here. None of the other assholes he’s called friends the better part of his teen years give a fuck about this part of Steve's life. No, to them Princess Steve is ruining their lives and stealing away the life of the party. Steve couldn't be more relieved about it. It’s the excuse he needs to cut them off completely. He was waiting for graduation for that originally.

“Yellow?” Richard Buckley answers pleasantly despite the early hours.

The Buckleys are early risers. Something about working a farm that shrunk to a garden when they moved to Hawkins. Still, they grow most of what they eat. The grocery store is reserved for seasonings and treats.

“Hey, Rich, is Rob awake?”

“Steve! Boy, you’re sure up early. Let me go check for ya,” Richard answers brightly.

There are a few moments of silence before Richard’s voice is back.

“You’ll have her in a minute, she’s brushing her teeth. You alright? You sound flustered.”

“Y- yeah, I’m good. I’m at the hospital with Sarah. She’s in labor,” he informs him awkwardly, the words not feeling quite real leaving his lips.

“Oh! Congrats! Do you need us to bring you anything? Melissa just finished this batch of fermented soy water-”

“No- no, that’s okay, Rich, really,” Steve is quick to deny one of Robin’s mom’s fresh concoctions, “Thanks, though. I appreciate it.”

“Of course, Steve. Ah- here’s Robbie. While I have you, happy birthday! Alright, Robbie is swatting at me, here-” Richard’s voice is cut off by the phone changing hands.

His words ring in Steve’s ear like a gong. Happy birthday. Shit, it is his birthday, isn't it? He hadn't even thought about it. Somehow, Richard Buckley has despite only knowing Steve for a couple of weeks.

“My dad said Sarah is in labor- how long? How close is she? Did she already give birth? Oh, god, ew, now I’m picturing that-” Robin jumps right into a ramble.

“Rob,” Steve laughs for the first time all morning, “No, she hasn't given birth yet. I haven't been here that long, I just… I’m in the waiting room and I figured I’d let you know. Y’know, 'cause I’ll need you to cover my shift.”

He knows if she were here that last line would have earned him a punch. He smiles a little thinking about it. Robin rolling her eyes is practically audible through the phone.

“You know we don't get scheduled on our birthdays, dingus. Give me thirty and I’ll have my dad drop me off,” she tells him.

“You really don't have to-”

“Don't even try it, Steven. Today is your birthday and you’re in a hospital waiting for your child to be born. Wait- why are you in the waiting room? Shouldn't you, like, be where the action is?” She realizes as she speaks.

“I tried, but Sarah-”

“Say no more,” Robin sighs.

Steve swears he hears another eye roll.

“It’s not her fault,” Steve tries to defend Sarah to Robin for the umpteenth time.

“She’s acting like you did this to her, not with her. It takes two to make a baby, if I’m not mistaken. You’re only one person. Don't defend her right now,” Robin argues.

Steve sighs, signaling his defeat. He won't have this argument today of all days, here of all places.

“I’ll be there soon,” Robin tells him then the line goes dead.

True to her word, Robin shows up a little less than thirty minutes later. She has her bookbag on and a medium-sized gift bag in one hand. Steve stands to greet her and accepts her in a tight hug. Once they're apart, she’s thrusting the bag at him.

“It’s from my mom, for the baby,” she informs him before sitting in the chair next to where he was.

Steve sits back down slowly and peers in the sparkly bag. He has to move some yellow tissue paper, but then he finds it. A soft little blanket weaved with pastel rainbow yarn, lovingly made. Emotions well up in Steve’s chest as he takes it in. The blanket makes reality hit so much harder. Steve is about to be a dad. He has the baby blanket to prove it.

The blanket is soft when he brings it to his cheek to feel. He smiles at the material for a moment longer before looking at Robin once more. She watches him with a small smile.

“Tell her,” Steve’s voice comes out hoarse prompting him to clear his throat, “Tell her I said thank you. It’s perfect.”

After that Robin begins pulling all sorts of things out of her bookbag. Card games, snacks, water, a sketchbook, and even a little cupcake in a single plastic grocery store container. Steve gives Robin another tight squeeze at that. They’re in the middle of a game of rummy when the nurse calls his name. He’s up so fast Robin is left playing an impromptu game of 52 pick-up.

He’s led down a few brightly lit hallways that smell of sanitizer and residual cigarette smoke from the waiting room. Finally, they get to a great big window that looks into an even bigger room. Nurses flit about in different colors and patterned scrubs. They carry newborns in need of feeding, or changing, or cleaning to welcome them into the world. Amongst all the flurry and fuss, are the little cradles. Each holds a bundle of blankets topped with a little hat. Steve’s eyes search frantically until he finds her. Right in the middle, as if she’s being presented on center stage for all to see and prepare themselves for.

Steve's breath catches in his throat. All sounds fall away. There's a card tucked into the front of the cradle in a plastic sleeve. Baby Girl Harrington, Time of Arrival: 8:40 AM, Weight: 7lbs 3oz, Length: 21in. Tears begin to blur his vision as he really takes her in. Right now, she’s just a tiny face sticking out of a teddy bear pattern blanket. Steve swears it's the most perfect little face he’s ever seen. Two soft eyelids are closed and painted with light veins, a small button nose sits right in the center, and a pair of tiny plump lips seem to almost pout. It’s like she’s annoyed that she has to wait for him. He’s annoyed at himself that she's waiting.

“Do you want to come meet her?” The nurse asks, jostling him back into the reality of the hospital.

He quickly wipes the tears he can feel streaming silently down his face and nods.

“Yeah- God, yes, please,” he answers, not caring if he sounds crazy or desperate.

He’s led into the nursery and sat in a cushy chair with a movable arm that he's pretty sure is for nursing. Then she's there, being handed off to him gently. He doesn't have to be told how to hold her. It's something he's been obsessively reading about- terrified of accidentally hurting her once she was here. If just seeing her through the glass was that world stopping, it had nothing on holding her.

Steve sits there, ignoring the hospital around him. He focuses on the warm weight in his arms. The peacefully sleeping face of his daughter. His perfect, wonderful, beautiful daughter. It doesn't even register that he's crying again until a tear falls onto her forehead. Carefully, he wipes it away with his thumb. She's so small his thumb practically reaches across her whole forehead.

He unwraps her just enough to find her hands. Steve’s never held hands so small and tender. He counts each finger, making sure they're all there, nearly sobbing with each one. Then he finds her toes and repeats the process of making sure she's all there. She's there and she's healthy and she's in his arms and Steve is so fucking happy . The pink hospital band around her ankle matches the one on his wrist, signaling to everyone that this one is his and his alone. His thumb skirts over her soft warm cheek some more.

“Hey, baby,” he whispers, “it’s me. I- I’m your daddy.”

She seems to curl up more as if getting comfortable now that it's been confirmed he’s there. His heart swells feeling her move. She's real and she's here and she's his.

“I’m sorry you don't have a name yet, but I promise I’ll find you a good one. One you'll really like, one that fits you,” he promises, “and- and I’m sorry it’s just us, but we’ll figure it out, yeah? We’ll figure it out together. Who knows, maybe one day it won't just be us anymore, but for now… We’ll be okay. I promise, we’ll be okay.”

Steve inhales shakily as he continues to gaze down at his daughter. He’s not sure if he's allowed to make the call, but he's pretty positive he won the baby lottery just by looking at her. He lifts up the little knit cap the nurses put on her. He sees a thin layer of red and chuckles.

“Figures you’d end up lookin’ more like her than me,” he sighs, “It's alright, I guess she did the hard part. It’s only fair.”

Another minute passes of him just looking at her. He wants her to crack her eyes open so badly. Just for a second to reveal their color. He wants to know everything about her he can until she's big enough to tell him herself. God, he hopes she likes him.

“I’m not gonna lie to you, baby, I’m pretty fucking scared right now. You terrify me, but I’m so excited to be your daddy. I won't fuck this up, I swear. I’m going to do everything,” he pauses as his voice cracks to collect himself and try again, “I’m going to do everything to make sure you know how much I love you, okay? You won't spend one day, not one day, wondering if I love you. I love you so, so much. You don't even have to do anything, I’m already so proud of you just for being here.”

Tears are streaming down his face again now. He refuses to sob, not wanting to jostle her. A handful of minutes pass where he just watches her exist in his arms. To his right, someone clears their throat softly. It takes a massive amount of effort to drag his eyes away from his daughter. Sarah’s mom stands not too far away. Close enough that Steve is sure she heard whatever part she was here for. She’s a tall woman with red hair of her own, but hers has been dulled by age. Brilliant blue eyes take in Steve and his daughter cautiously.

“Oh, did you want to hold her?” He asks unsure, knowing it’ll take a nuclear disaster to pry this baby from his arms right now.

Even then, he's not sure that would be enough to separate him from his baby. Sarah’s mom shakes her head lightly.

“No, it's probably better I don't. I’m sorry, Steve, for how Sarah has been. I know that this isn't ideal for anyone, but I wanted to thank you,” she says, her voice a tad musical.

“Thank me?” Steve furrows his brows.

“For taking responsibility. I feel a lot better knowing she’ll be with you,” her eyes gesture down to the baby, “I think you’re going to do just fine.”

Steve feels his lip begin to tremble. His inhale is ugly and stunted thanks to the emotion he's holding back. Sarah’s mom offers him a small smile. Something to show that she doesn't hate Steve the way he assumed she did.

“Thank you, Mrs. Collins, it really means a lot,” he rasps.

“You're holding my granddaughter. You can call me Beatrice,” she chuckles.

Steve lets out a wet chuckle of his own.

“Thank you, Beatrice.”

She nods. With one last look at the baby in Steve’s arms, she leaves. He gets another moment alone with his daughter. How about Beatrice? He thinks before they're interrupted again. This time it's by the nurse that brought him here. She’s on the younger side with a kind face, and slick black hair pulled into a tight ponytail. She wears a sweet smile, the kind that makes him feel like she isn't judging him for his age as he holds his baby.

“How’re you doing, Dad?” She checks.

Steve can't help his smile. Dad. That's him now.

“Good, I think. I- I don't know when I’m supposed to feed her or change her or- or too much of anything really,” he admits.

“That's okay, I’d be more surprised if you did have a clue,” she chuckles, “I’m here to help. We see our fair share of teen mothers through here, but… you’re my first teen father. I’m guessing your parents aren't going to be much help?”

Her eyes flicker around, searching for any sign of waiting grandparents. Steve smiles tightly and shakes his head. The nurse closes her eyes and lets out a sigh through her nose before shaking her own head.

“You’re not the first teen parent where that's the case either,” she tells him sadly, “I’ll come back over when it's time to feed her and we’ll start there, okay? By the time you two are home, you’ll be a pro.”

Steve isn't so sure about that, but he's so grateful he's willing to believe her. He could kiss the ground she's walking on even if she is only doing her job. Any kind of guidance is more than Steve thought he’d get.

“Thank you so much, Nurse…,” he trails off, searching for a name badge.

“You can just call me Lynn. My full name is a mouthful,” she waves him off.

“Jacqueline is not a mouthful,” another nurse snorts as she goes by.

Nurse Lynn pinches the other nurse’s side as she goes, earning her a little squeal. They both laugh.

“It’s more of a mouthful than Lynn, that's for sure,” she rolls her eyes playfully as she walks away to do her job.

Steve looks back down at the perfect example of a human in his arms. He really considers her.

“Beatrice,” he tests out.

It feels… okay. It doesn't quite feel like her though. He can't look at her and see a Beatrice.

“Jacqueline,” he whispers.

She stirs in his arms for a moment. Then, for the very first time, Steve meets his daughter’s eyes. They're impossibly dark, basically black. Yep, she's gonna look just like Sarah, alright. That's a sucker punch to the gut he’ll have to deal with. She blinks for a moment as if focusing her eyes, which Steve is pretty sure isn't possible at mere hours old. His face breaks into a smile. That felt like all the answer he needed. She’s definitely Jacqueline. Although, the more he thinks it the more he decides that kind of is a mouthful for constant use. They’ll come up with a nickname. That's not important to him right now. As her eyes flutter close once more it clicks.

“Welcome to the world, Jaqueline Beatrice Harrington. I love you the mostest.”

#funnylittle jack fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steddie #single dad!steve harrington #single dad steve harrington #teen dad!steve harrington #teen dad steve harrington

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kennahjune · 1 year ago

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Teen Dad AU

Part 2!!

Starting the tag list with: @mugloversonly @jackiemonroe5512 @thestarslittleking @jonesen4coffee @virginlemontea @blackpanzy @littlebluejane @paintsplatteredandimperfect @astrid-nomically-steddie @maferisa-7 @phantomrose17 @child-of-cthuhlu @sofadofax @thoughtfulbreadpolice @fandomnerd103 @artemisiscursed @croatoan-like-its-hot @silenzioperso @myownworstenemyyy @feral-possums-in-the-bog @mente-sindescanso @mrslectermoriarty @y4r3luv @a-couchpotato @aknelimdoogladania @she-collects-smut

…

Thursday came in a false sense of security.

Steve woke up to the gentle sun in his face, the breeze of an open window in his hair, and his son’s chubby baby fingers wrapped around his hand.

Steve grinned sleepily at Louie and laughed when baby Louie smiled so wide back at him that his paci fell out.

Steve held Louie close while preparing a small breakfast of eggs and toast, then continued to hold him while making his bottle and setting out a few cheese puffs for him teethe on.

Steve made sure Louie ate first, helping him hold the bottle and then laughing at the pure mess he makes with the cheese puffs. Then Steve himself ate. Clean up was quick enough witch a wet rag and a speedy wipe-down.

Later on, just as Steve was thinking about preparing lunch, the front doors opened.

“Shit. Shit shit shit SHIT.” Steve angrily whispered to himself. Little Louie stared at him from where he was propped on the couch, not a thought behind his wide eyes. Though he obviously knew something was wrong with his dad.

Steve was quick to buckle Louie into his car seat, bundling him up with a blanket and giving him his bear.

“Stephan? Are you in the living room? Come grab our bags, please,” Cynthia Harrington called from down the hall.

There was no getting out of this. No way of getting Louie to the car without his parents seeing. But he’s sure they already knew of the baby, or suspected something. Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln were nosy motherfuckers set on ruining Steve’s life.

Steve sighed and looked at Louie. He knelt in front of the car seat and rubbed a hand gently on his son’s face. Louie grabbed his finger and smiled around his paci.

Steve wanted to cry.

“Stephan! Your mother called you so answer her!” Richard Harrington yelled. Steve heard the wind outside pick up aggressively and cursed the mornings sunshine.

“Coming!”

Steve padded into the hallway where his parents were taking off their jackets. Cynthia and Richard were picture-perfect— or they would’ve been. If it weren’t for the pressed line of his mother’s mouth and the hard line of his father’s jaw. Steve knew what was coming before they did.

“Stephan, the bags.” Were his mothers first words to him. Not “Hi, son, how have you been?” Not “Sorry we’ve been gone for nearly 8 months.” Not “How are you feelings after that concussion from last November? We’re terribly sorry we couldn’t stop work to simply call and make sure you were ok.”

No. None of that. Instead he was demanded around like a fucking dog.

“Um. Actually, I had to talk to you both. If you don’t mind—“

“Save it. Take the bags upstairs and meet us in the living room,” Richard stated harshly.

Steve flinched. He hated himself for flinching. But they couldn’t go in the living room. Not while Louie was still in there.

“Actually, dad— it’s very important and I just really need to talk to you guys—“

“Stephan!”

Steve winced at the pitchy tone of his mother.

“Please, I promise— It’ll be worth your time, just— just give a minute, please.” He was begging now. He hated begging.

Richard had grown tired of Steve’s fumbling for words and shoved past him. Steve knocked into the wall with the harshness.

“Stephan, you will listen to your mother and take the bags upstairs and meet us—“

“Dad, wait—“

Richard stopped in the doorway to the living room, whatever insult or command he was going to throw Steve’s way dying on his tongue.

“Stephan. Why, in the Lord’s name, is there a baby’s car seat in my living room?”

His tone was calm. Steve knew better than to think he was actually anything other than furious.

“Thats— that’s what I needed to speak to you about. Please, I—“

Steve should’ve anticipated the slap.

But he didn’t. And his head snapped to the side with the force that left him seeing stars.

Steve didn’t stay long enough to listen to his dad yelling slurs or his mom crying. He simply grabbed Louie’s car seat, picked up his shoes by the door, and left.

Steve had been driving for near three hours before he pulled over. He’d circled the entirety of town before finally pulling into a small dirt path by the quarry. Belatedly he realized someone was crying.

He hurried to get out of the car, rounding to the back and sliding into the backseat to sit next to Louie’s car seat. But Louie wasn’t crying, he was sound asleep.

Steve realized he was crying.

He startled when a broken sob tore itself out of his throat. He hurried out of the car and dragged himself the few yards to the edge of the quarry.

He sat down and let the rain pelt him from all angles. His face stung. Steve knew the slap would bruise phenomenally in the morning. It’d probably affect his tips at work.

He swung his feet idly on the edge, belatedly realizing he wasn’t wearing his shoes or even socks for that matter. His heels where starting to bleed from each time he rammed them into the rocks on the edge of the cliff.

Steve doesn’t know how long he sat there in the rain. He snapped back to reality when a particularly loud burst of thunder rumbled in his gut. He went back to the car.

Louie was still sound asleep. Steve figured he himself should most likely sleep as well. He didn’t know when he’d be able to get a place for them, but he’d already been saving up.

He curled up in the back seat next to baby Louie. He didn’t bother with a blanket, and he knew he’d get a cold with his clothes still being wet, but he deemed it fine.

Steve’s sleep was fitful and restless. Filled with slurs and yelling and running from monsters that shouldn’t exist.

It was a week before he finally got a place.

Not that long, sure. But it was a week of pure dread and exhaustion and nightmares.

The trailer he was looking at was located near the edge of Forest Hills. It was two bedroom one bathroom and had a small living room (with no ceiling light) and a kitchen (that barely had any wiggle room). But it was his.

He’d been at work when he got the call— as that was where he told the landlord to call. Mason— the line cook— called him back.

“Hey Steve-o! That landlord guys on the phone!”

Steve jumped so hard he nearly spilled the waters he was carrying.

“Be right there, Mace!”

Steve was quick to get the waters to the table 7 and take their orders for the night before he rushed back. He tossed his notepad at Mason and snatched the phone.

“Hi, Mr. Gardison!” he greeted cheerily.

“Stephen, hi. So…”

And Steve was given the trailer.

He was vibrating with excitement by the end of his call. When Steve returned the phone to its holder he was picked up from the ground in a bear hug. He laughed and hugged Mason back.

“You got the place!” Mason cheered.

“I got the place!” Steve laughed.

The rest of his day went swimmingly. He would be able to officially move into the trailer on Friday— which was fine by him. Two days of waiting was nothing.

Steve was given congratulations from a few of the regulars. Mr. Jinkins gave him a good slap on the shoulder while Miss. Gladson pulled him into a hug. They tipped him an extra 5 dollars each before they left.

At the end of his Wednesday shift, Steve gave out hugs to most of his coworkers. Mason, Allya, and his boss Michelle got hugs while George and Gwen got high fives. Steve left feeling light on his feet with a to-go bag for dinner.

Thursday was filled with the lunch rush. Steve had to take his break early to check on baby Louie in the back. He felt bad turning George’s manager office into a daycare but George assured him it was fine.

“Hey honey,” Steve’s cooed at the baby in his arms. “How are you doing, huh love? You’ve been cooped up for so long I know.”

Louie gripped his baby hands into the front of Steve’s apron. He was back in the kitchens today, Allya taking his place up front waitressing.

Steve hopped around and lightly bounced Louie against his chest, humming quietly and gently.

Louie whined and continued to cry.

“I know Louie, I know. You hungry? Hang on baby.”

Steve made sure Louie was fed and burped and laid him done for a nap. He only had an hour of his shift left.

Thursday finished off normally and Steve left with his usual dinner. He drove out to the quarry and parked before sitting in the backseat with Louie to eat.

Eventually he took Louie out of the car and sat with him on the rocky ground of the quarry. Steve held Louie close in his lap, letting the baby play with his hands and fingers and babble about nothing and everything.

Steve occasionally answered with little gums of encouragement, but for the most part he let baby Louie talk to himself. He was lost in thought, daydreaming about the trailer and how they got to move in tomorrow.

Before Steve knew it Louie had fallen asleep and he himself was on the verge. He got them both settled in the backseat once more and allowed himself to drift off.

…

We’re finally, maybe, getting somewhere lol. Tag list is open to everyone still, feel free to ask for a place!! We’ll get into some of Steve’s school life in the next part hopefully 🤞

Part 3:

#stranger things #steve harrington #little louie harrington :)#teen dad steve harringon #teen dad au #i don’t remember what else I’m supposed to tag #uh #eventual steddie #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #steddie #steve harrington is a damn good dad #steve harrington has bad parents #steve harrington needs a better family #steve harrington needs a hug #everyone wants to give him a hug #I’ve run out of things to tag

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steviewashere · 2 months ago

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Take Up Space

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse (it is minor, but the themes are there), Implied/Referenced Child Neglect Pairings: Steve Harrington & Steve Harrington's Parents, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Tags: Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst With a Happy Ending, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Steve Harrington's Father Being an Asshole, Steve Harrington Wants to Be Loved, Steve Harrington Feels Like a Burden, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Comforts Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Moves in With Eddie & Wayne, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, And Gets One

🫂—————🫂 Couldn’t even say it.

Didn’t want to look him in the eyes and just say it.

Steve’s been holding on. He has. Hands to the ground, fingers in the soil, gravel under his nails. Been holding fast to his parents. Claw marks on his mom’s calves and a ring of teeth on his dad’s neck. Fighting for purchase against everything his parents want him to be; the words they have to say when he’s behind his bedroom door and feigning sleep. When he’s ear against the wood, teeth in his bottom lip, holding back cries—“How does our kid get a fucking D in math class? We’re business people!”

He’ll always be absurd to his parents.

To his mom, he is the long lost love of her life. He is the flower nearly wilted in her palms, plucked fresh from the grass, tufts of petals blowing behind her. The thing she always wanted; that she gave name to; that she thought she needed. She knew his name before anything else. Said it her self, holding the remnants of her childhood doll—“I named him Steven,” she had told him, “a mighty little lion with a great, big roar. I held him close every night, just as I will do with you, my little lion.” He was born small, premature, wrinkled and crying. He was placed upon her chest the same way a bouquet is laid on a casket—with love and loss, grieving just begun. It didn’t take long for her to change. For her voice to grow sharp and loud and angry. Disappointed, too.

Just a disappointment to them, that’s what he was. Didn’t win the championships? Disappointment. Got third in the second grade spelling bee? Disappointment. Barely graduated high school? Dis-a-fucking-ppointment.

It was shown in the way he never met his dad’s expectations. Ruler slaps on the wrists, wooden spoon to his bottom, the time out corner. Sometimes, he’d drop his homework on “accident”, to explain why he didn’t have it. Why they couldn’t see the big, fat, red F on his assignments, scrawled dark and heavy, circled with that perfect penmanship his teachers always had—always had for the failures in class. He’d have to get his report cards signed, but he’d forge them. He’d have conferences, but he’d always “forget” to invite his parents.

And it was better when they’d leave for business trips. Always too long, over staying their welcome in out-of-state hotels, in foreign countries they’d never be built for. It was better because he didn’t have to explain. It was better because he could get away with being human. He could show up tired to school, could get a bad grade and feel relief, could fuck up big time on a test and have no repercussions (especially if he went home and deleted voicemails from their answering machine), and he could graduate by the skin of his teeth. Take up the extracurriculars, do the bare minimum, not have to try so hard to be somebody he isn’t.

Of course he didn’t make it into college, not with his skill set. Of course he didn’t try again—not because he didn’t care, but because he simply couldn’t. Of course he worked dead-end retail full time; it’s all his parents could think to do with him—it gave him time away from home for eight hours or more, so it was a win for everybody.

But underneath all of that—beneath the scoldings and the physical punishments and the hot spit in his face—there were absent words, too. Absent gestures.

Steve doesn’t remember the last time he embraced his parents. Doesn’t remember the last time he heard ‘I love you.’ Doesn’t remember the sweetness of growing up. It was all tainted, taken from him, buried under the soil—the soil he grips to, nose deep in it, sniffing for where the bones have been buried.

He’s twenty now. None of it should matter. It shouldn’t matter at all that he can’t get those three words out of his parents’ mouth. Or that he can’t gauge the weight of arms on his shoulders, arms that aren’t his friends, arms that aren’t the ex-chief of police. Yet, of course it all does.

Nearly six months after Vecna, after the earthquake, after he helped save the world like some vigilante superhero, his parents finally come home. They come home with overflowing suitcases and permanent scowls, stomping and clicking through the front door, keys heavy in a bowl, jackets hung firmly, and his name on their tongue: “Steven!”

They come home with a medical bill in their hands. Thousands of dollars “down the drain.”

And Steve greets them with a neck scar visible above the collar of his current blue henley. His hair down to his shoulders, bangs itching to stab his eyeballs. With thin white lines on his knuckles. A gritted smile on his sullen, tired, pasty face.

“What is this?” His dad had hissed, flicking his right wrist, the paper wrinkled and noisy in his hand. “Thousands! You’ve cost us thousands of dollars!”

“I had surgery,” Steve tried to explain—voice meek, small, already timid—“got mauled by some…vicious and frightened dogs during the earthquake that happened. Guess that’s what happens when you try and help out.” He gave a nervous chuckle and stepped side to side. Buy that, he internally plead, just buy it and berate me and we can move on with our day.

His mom didn’t say anything in this. Face hard-set, painted lips flat, eyes sharp. She was unclasping the earrings hanging heavy from her earlobes, fisting them in her palms, bending down to pick up the stilettos she stepped out of, and then she evaded the conversation. Just went up the steps like a ghost, barely making a sound, simply gliding. He wanted her to come back, to stop this, to stand up for him—wanted what they had when he was really little, when she cared. When she held him close. When she promised.

His dad scoffed. “And you didn’t use your own insurance?”

“I don’t…I thought that I was still on the family plan?”

Steve was then leveled with a stare. A familiar stare. One that conveys exactly what his dad won’t say yet, “Disappointment.” His dad sighed. “Well, you aren’t. Which you would know if you listened”—

“Nobody told me! How am I supposed to”—

“Don’t talk back, Steven. You shouldn’t have to be told everything.” The paper had been thrusted forward, right into Steve’s chest. He gripped for it before it fell to the ground—where his heart has already been mushed into the hardwood. His dad stepped around him, around his heart, retreating towards the dining room and kitchen, fiddling with the band of his watch. “Have you found a job yet? Any college acceptance letters? An apartment?”

He huffed and followed. Bitter, “No. I’ve been recovering from surgery. Physical therapy, a couple skin grafts, my antibiotics…I told you about it over the phone the last time you cared to even call and check in on me.” Immediately, Steve had bit his tongue. Too much, too fast.

The Stare.

“That’s no way to talk to people, Steven.”

“But I”—

“When did you become so uncouth?” His dad scoffed a humorless laugh and drifted towards the kitchen sink.

The kitchen had always been too big for just the two of them. Spacious, many cabinets, the best of the best in terms of appliances. Not a single stain on the countertop. No cracks in the tiles. All of it clean, seemingly unused. Maintained to be picture perfect.

Just as Steve had been most of his life.

His dad continued on, “You’re supposed to be in college right now. Making something of yourself. Instead you’re—what—standing in the kitchen, holding a medical bill you cost me because you were trying to save dogs? Dogs, Steven? You could be doing something with your life! Could be going to school to become a doctor like that Hagan boy. Whatever happened to Thomas anyway?”

Steve stayed silent, still biting his tongue—his dad already knew about Tommy. Small in the doorway. Hunched in and looking at the ground, bile risen in his throat, the scars on his back and sides aching.

“But”—a sigh—“nope. Saving dogs. What are we going to do with you? Should’ve sent you to military school like Robert Kelly’s kid, I heard he’s doing great these days. You’ve always been defiant, though, so I’m sure that gig would’ve been drilled straight into the ground.”

The sink turned on, his dad had washed his hands. Wiped away the residual weight of the medical bill from his palms. A medical bill that he never bothered to ask about before. Just like the other ones. Like the other concussions. The fights that put the family name at risk. The bruises and blood that ruined poor Steve’s reputation.

If only he knew the truth.

His dad went to say something else, but instead—

“Why don’t you care?” Steve bit, “you never cared. This isn’t the first bill. Why does it even matter how much you have to spend? You’re my dad; you’re supposed to care about me.”

A different stare this time. Squinted eyes. Furrowed eyebrows.

Are you challenging me, is what this one said, are you doubting me?

“When you’re saving dogs? Why should I bother, Steven?”

“Because I’m your son! Because I—I need your help! It shouldn’t matter what I’ve been doing. It should matter that I almost died.”

He rolled his eyes. “Died,” his dad muttered—a soft, bewildered echo. “Stop being so”—

“Why don’t you just love me? Why won’t you love me just as I am? I need you to care. I need you to…to treat me like I’m your kid. Not some friend. Or some business partner. Your son. But you…you don’t love me?” He shifted again, side to side, boiling and ashamed and ready to puddle into the fine porcelain of the tiles. “You don’t love me enough to call and ask why you need to pay a medical bill. You didn’t bother to even know an ounce.

“It’s like that every time with you. All those stupid concussions. You didn’t want to take me to the hospital. Didn’t want to pay it off. Worried about your stupid last name. About the family image. I almost die and all you care about is the fact my life is costing you money.

“Money is more important than me, that’s all you’ve shown.”

Another scoff. “Don’t be so”—

“Ridiculous? Unreasonable? Dramatic? Stupid?

“Why are you so incapable of loving me? That’s all I want! For you and mom to…to hold me and tell me that you love me! But you…you only care when I cost you money! Why can’t you care?! I want you to—I want you to be my dad! What’s so wrong with that? With loving me? Why am I such a hard person to love? Why can’t I just…just be enough for you?!”

Finally fallen silent, Steve stood still in the kitchen’s entryway. A world between worlds. Tired, heaving, stomach turning. Palms sweating, wetting the dumb bill that ruined this all.

It remained silent. With his dad looking at him.

Those hazel eyes and his square jaw. The same face Steve sees staring back at him in the mirror. And yet his own isn’t enough to love.

There is nothing.

And so he kept standing, empty, words dead to the floor, heart by the front door. He took a deep breath through his nose, remembered the path to his get-away bag—a bag he packed in sophomore year of high school, after a terrible basketball game, when he was slapped on the back of the head for failing to make the winning shot. It has a new toothbrush and tube of toothpaste, emergency cash, hygiene products, a new wardrobe that coincides with his current size, and all his important documents—nothing of his family’s. He had what he needed packed in his closet.

So, he left. Chose to go. Before his dad had the chance.

Let the possibilities die in the air. What could’ve been if there wasn’t so much space and so many expectations between them.

Who knew saving the world would be the ending of your own?

Who knew love was such a price to pay?

——— Now, he finds himself parked outside of Eddie’s. The backpack in the passenger seat. Leaves it for now, unsure if he’ll be wanted. But he knocks on the door regardless.

There’s a moment where there’s nothing.

Him and the blackness of the trailer park. The rustle of grass in the gentle, autumn breeze. People chattering a few doors down, over cigarettes it smells like. Max’s own bedroom light is out, most likely asleep right now. Chain link fence glinting with the very little moonlight that’s there. Fresh weeds on the outskirts, born from the rain.

Serenity around his turmoil. A constant anger still stewing, bubbling, steaming within him.

What if Eddie can’t handle him right now?

What if he has to crawl through Robin’s window, leave her with words, run for the hills?

What if…what if…what if?

“Steve?” Eddie calls softly, sing-song like he’s tried already.

He whips back around from where he’d been looking out at the grass. Shuffling. “Oh, hey, Eds. Sorry—I—Just…Can I come in, please?”

Eddie steps aside for him. Lets him in without words. Until, “You’re shaking, sweetheart. Is everythin’ alright?”

“Hm? Yeah…yeah, yeah…I think that I—Think I just moved out of my parents’ house?”

A soft, surprised sound behind him. The click of the door closing. “Yeah, you think?” Gentle.

Everything is gentle here.

The amber light in the living room. Rows of hats. Shelves of mugs. Family pictures proud on the fridge, next to yellowed drawings in crayon, all hung up with goofy Garfield magnets. There’s an open box of Honeycomb on the table, a fresh bowl poured. A carton of milk turned so that the missing persons report could be read.

When he was younger, Steve imagined being on one of those panels. What it would be like. To have gone missing. Not a note or a clue or a peep. To have his parents care enough to find him. Now, though…now it feels like they wouldn’t even bat an eye. Maybe it would’ve been the same back then, too.

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs, “he got mad about a medical bill for that surgery I had. And I just…god, it’s embarrassing.” He lets out a humorless chuckle, too similar to his dad’s—a sound he will always recognize as that, from his father’s chest. Horrid and wretched. Something rotten in him, too, it seems. “I asked him why he doesn’t…doesn’t care about me. Why he doesn’t love me. I mean…who does that?” Steve makes eye contact with Eddie, who must’ve gotten closer, stepped right in front of him. With very little courage, the last dredges of it in his veins, he speaks, “They let me live in their house, eat their food, use their shit. Was that wrong of me? Am I…am I stupid for asking?”

Eddie inhales hard and deep. “Oh, Steve,” he breathes.

“It had to be, right? Of course my parents love me. They’re my parents!”

“Steve, that’s”—

“I get it, y’know. I get that it’s hard to love me. I know that, you know. But I don’t…the way he looked at me, Eddie, I knew he knew that too. I don’t think they—Why am I such a hard person to love? Is it me? Is it something wrong with me?”

He’s unsure if that was rhetorical, if he really wanted that answer. But as it is, he’s aware of the ache in his head, the burn between his eyebrows, the need and want to pinch the bridge of his nose. The tears that rise—ones that won’t fall, not without his permission. Without permission at all.

Instead of an answer, at least not right away, Eddie envelops him with languid movements and a warm body. Heavy arms on his aching back, hands pressing firm to his taut muscles, rubbing up and down his rigid spine. There’s breaths and words and kisses murmured against his eardrum. A chest rising and falling against his own. Tickling hair.

And instead of protesting, Steve clings back hard. Harder than he’s ever held anything.

Digging fingers into a t-shirt—the soil. Not wanting to let go. Never wanting to let go. Not when he’s finally getting part of what he wanted, to just be held. Maybe not by his parents, the real dream, but at least it’s something.

Somewhere in it all, in their mess of limbs and their mingled pulses, Steve cries—giving that allowance. Sobbing big, aching, roaring hiccups into the soft spots of Eddie’s neck. Wet breaths and wetter tears. Letting go until he has nothing left to give—and then some. His head is aching already, eyebrows pinching, eyes heavy on his already too heavy face.

He’s tired.

More tired than he thinks he’s ever been.

This must be the adrenaline crash. Makes him realize all the ways he’s hurting. His back and his legs and his fingers. His head and his teeth. His heart. And here he is, screaming all of his pain into the gentle parts of Eddie, where he’s offered and where he’s swaddled.

“Shhh,” Eddie’s whispering, “shh, Stevie, you gotta calm down a little for me. Just a little, I’ve gotcha.” They’re moving somewhere. Shoes scraping and dragging against carpet. Set down on a soft cushion—the couch, then—with words still murmured in his ear. “I’ve gotcha,” Eddie says, “he doesn’t deserve you, sweetheart. I’ve gotcha…I’ve gotcha.”

“Why can’t—I don’t—Love”—he stops himself with a wet, spraying cough-gag onto Eddie’s warm skin.

Hands press into his shoulder blades, dragging firmly down his spine. And then fingers at the ends of his hair, a thumb pressing into the knobs of his neck. Eddie sways them back and forth gently. “You’re gonna choke,” Eddie murmurs, “take a deep breath, baby. Just one breath for me, that’s all.” He obliges, inhaling hard through his nose, trying to release it as slow as possible through his mouth—not incredibly, but just enough. “Good,” Eddie says, “good job. You can cry, sweetheart, but you gotta keep breathing good for me.”

Again, he does what Eddie tells him to do. Wetting his skin more with each deep breath he blows out. And when he’s just a shivering, hiccuping mess in Eddie’s arms, he finally allows himself to relax—to loosen.

Eddie presses a kiss to his left temple. Then he pulls away just enough so they can see each other’s faces. He swipes the hair out of Steve’s face, gentle with every touch he gives. “You’re gonna stay here with me, alright?”

“What about”—

“Wayne’ll understand, I promise. I’ll grab your stuff. I want you to just sit right here, okay? And when I come back in, we’ll just relax for the rest of the night.”

“I’m tired.”

“Then we’ll just go to bed, okay?” Eddie kisses his temple again. He pulls himself off of Steve and gets off of the couch with a, “I’ll be right back.”

Steve only nods at Eddie’s back, now slumped into the couch.

Disappointment rings loud in his head. At least he didn’t let his parents say it this time. But once it’s ingrained in him, he knows the way it should sound. Dripping with ire—red and loud and bass boosted from his dad’s mouth. And yet he doesn’t know what ‘I love you’ sounds like coming from either of them; or at least he doesn’t remember.

He’s gone and unloaded himself here. Not that he intended for that to happen.

There wasn’t really a plan when he drove over to Forest Hills. Maybe the naked branches of one. He’d come over, tell Eddie what happened, maybe get so overworked that he started to cry, and then he’d slip out without another word. Just get back in his car, leave a note or something for Robin, and evade Hawkins all together. Though, now that he’s out of that house, maybe his parents will finally take the initiative on getting out of this town. It’s something they always wanted, something they always threatened they’d do if Steve didn’t shape up. Now would be the time, he supposes, now that he’s left with the last crumbs of his dignity.

A few minutes later, still stuck to the back of the couch, Eddie comes in through the front door. That one backpack in his grip. Fingers tight on one strap, looking at it with confusion.

“Is this all of your stuff?”

He shrugs. “My go bag.”

“Go bag,” Eddie echoes.

“Yeah, I’ve had it packed since sophomore year. Just in case, y’know.”

Eddie inhales in that slow way he does. “Yeah,” he whispers, “yeah, I get that.” He hefts the bag up and down. “It’s just…just really light, sweetheart. Are you sure you have everything you need?”

He nods resolutely. “Stuff can be replaced. It’s fine.”

The couch dips beside him. His eyes drifting from his lap, up to where Eddie’s looking directly at him. That backpack between his feet—limp and folding in on itself from how empty it is. There’s a question on the tip of Eddie’s tongue. Hesitantly, “What was your plan, sweetheart?”

He shrugs again. “See if I could spend the night here and then…I don’t know? Figure it out as I go, I guess. Didn’t wanna be a burden or anything.”

“You’re not a burden,” Eddie states firmly, “you are never a burden to me or anybody else in our friend group.”

“But”—

Eddie lays his hand on his forearm, squeezing him tight. “I want you to stay right here with me. I want you to eat my food and sleep in my bed and take up space, you got that?”

Steve sniffles. Wetly, “Are you sure? I can get a hotel or some”—

“Stay here.” Eddie squeezes his forearm again. His eyes bounce between Steve’s own. Then, he murmurs, “I love you”—which is the first time he’s said it—“and I hate your parents with the most sincere hate I could send a person. But you…you, Steve, are worth loving and caring for. No matter what.”

“But what if you grow tired of me? I mean…my parents, they”—

“No matter what. Steve, I will always care and love and respect you as a human being even if our relationship fails—for some reason, which I can’t even think of a reason, so we’ll be okay.” Eddie hefts the backpack in his other hand, still light and still collapsing in on itself. “Now, how ‘bout we get ourselves to bed?”

Steve swallows, darts his eyes over Eddie’s face. Nods once, the last of his tears rescinding. “I’m so tired, Eds.” But it sounds like more than that. The weight of those words falling off his tongue, the hollowness of his mouth all that he has left afterwards.

Eddie frowns lightly. His hand goes up to Steve’s face, cupping his cheek gently, wiping his thumb under his left eye. “I know, baby,” he murmurs, “I know.” He sniffs himself, something small, but that’s when Steve notices that Eddie’s eyes are wet, too. “I wish I knew how to completely fix everything for you. I’m sorry your parents won’t be your parents.” Then, he stands up from the couch, hand out for Steve to grasp—which he does. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart. We’ll talk more about this when we’re rested up.”

In the bedroom, Eddie sits Steve’s bag on his dresser. Rifles through it and tutting the entire time he does. Steve probably could’ve packed some pajamas in there, but it’s fine. It’s fine because it needs to be fine. Instead of making some retort, Eddie easily grabs Steve a set of pajamas—some fleece red pants and a white t-shirt—and hands them off.

They change in silence. He brushes his teeth alongside Eddie’s, placing his own toothbrush in the same cup. Even as awful as this day has been, the sight of their toothbrushes together makes him a little giddy—something in him warm.

Once under the covers, Eddie drags Steve into him. An arm wrapped around his shoulders, chin to the top of his head, stroking fingers up and down his spine, connecting the dots of the many moles on his back. Treating him with the same love and reverence as always, as if nothing in their lives has changed. The normal is…nice in the aftermath.

“Eds?”

“Hm?”

“I love you, too,” Steve whispers, “thank you for this.” He shuffles in closer, probably too close. Arms bent awkwardly, legs tangled in one another, his cheek pressed flush with Eddie’s chest. His heart is beating strong and hard, Steve turns his head to kiss it. “I’ll figure out a way to make it up”—

“Nope,” Eddie mows over, voice soft, yet firm, “not doing that. No making up that needs to be done.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Okay, fine,” he sighs, relenting. “You’ll regret saying that once you realize how messy I am.”

Eddie snorts. “Have you met me? Think we’ll be a-okay. Go to sleep.”

Steve drags his lips over Eddie’s chest one more time, blowing a raspberry against his skin. Laughing when Eddie squawks.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

“Fine…fine, I’ll go to sleep. I love you, Eds.”

“Love you, too.” He squeezes Steve’s shoulders. “We’ll talk more in the morning, okay? But you’re safe here—take up space.”

Tonight doesn’t fix everything. But…but he can learn to be loud. With Eddie guiding him, that shouldn’t be much of a problem at all. Not at all.

🫂—————🫂

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington & steve harrington's parents #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington's parents #angst and hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending

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