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#steve harrington
artrealla · 12 hours
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bro u knocked over his drink
read this fic that goes with this art!!
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loveinhawkins · 18 hours
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Eddie surviving and going to see The Princess Bride when it comes out in 1987—and it’s a tentative thing, still, between him and Steve; they haven’t named it, but their hands still brush in the space between their seats, and really if Eddie were pushed, he’d say that they both know exactly what they’re heading towards, that they’re just floating between the end of one chapter and the beginning of another. That’s fine by him; they have time now, so much of it.
And the movie is charming and funny, but it’s not the romance or adventure that hits Eddie in the chest. It comes on unexpectedly, every time there’s a scene with the man reading to his grandson who’s sick in bed: suddenly Eddie can feel the softness of the bedsheets he had when he was young, when the move to Wayne’s was still raw and difficult, and it’s Wayne who’s reading to him softly, back when stories of things turning out fine were all Eddie had.
“Let’s see… where were we?” the grandfather mutters, and Eddie laughs because he can hear so much of Wayne in it, that gentle, wry humour. “Oh, yes. In the Pit of Despair.”
Eddie laughs again, choked. He’s clawed his way out of that damned pit so many times. His breathing catches at the thought that it’s been over a year since the deepest pit of them all, when Eddie once thought that the walls were far too high to climb.
“Woah, hey,” Steve whispers, “what’s wrong?”
Eddie shakes his head, smiling. “N-nothing.”
Their row is empty, and in the dark Steve reaches out, fingertips gently brushing underneath Eddie’s eye. They come away wet.
And Steve gives a little shushing noise, so that only they can hear, and it’s him who makes the leap, easily turning the page into the new chapter.
To some people Eddie’s first kiss would mean nothing at all—in their eyes, a chaste peck of comfort in a movie theatre would be just a speck in the grand history of the kiss itself. But for Eddie, it leaves them all behind.
“Farm boy,” he murmurs, when the movie’s over, smiling because the great, terrible story is done, and he is here; he is here. “Take me home?”
Steve smiles back, winks out the corner of his eye. “As you wish.”
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rogue-alien · 12 hours
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skepsiss · 11 hours
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Eddie would show Steve real music this, Eddie shows Steve the wonders of Lord of the Rings that----I get it. But have you considered....... Steve gets Eddie into those ridiculous, smutty romance novels? The ones that even if they're bad, they're good. Have you considered Steve getting Eddie into the Indy 500? NASCAR? What about cooking shows? Cheesy soap operas where Steve literally knows every insane storyline by memory? WHAT ABOUT EDDIE GETTING INTO STEVE'S INTERESTS???
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andvys · 15 hours
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
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Chapter fourteen ⭐︎ Somewhere in these eyes, I'm on your side.
Warnings: fluff, lots and lots fluff, just a teeny tiny bit of angst, just a bunch of tooth rooting sweetness
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: On a rainy Thursday, something shifts between you and Steve, something you can not see yet, while Steve gets lost in a glimpse of the future he could feel on this day.
Word count: 9k+
Author's note: @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me as always, roe. especially with the last bit, you're the bestest ♡ Steve's shower scene was fully written by her so give her some loveeee
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter
The rain paddles against your windows softly, the sun is hidden behind the heavy dark clouds, and the light wind rustles the trees outside. You didn’t close the blinds last night, but it doesn’t matter anyways, it’s dark and gloomy outside. 
The soft covers touch your bare skin, the smell of cologne is heavy in the air, along with the smell of sex that still lingers after the previous night. 
The weight of his arm keeps you in place, keeps you close, he is making your heart flutter in this early morning hour already. 
He is facing you, just as you are facing him. His palm rests on your lower back, his legs tangled with yours underneath the sheets. He pulls you closer when you try to move, tightening his hold on you, but he is still so fast asleep. His lashes look so much longer when his eyes are closed, his features are completely relaxed, he is breathing softly, his heart beats against your palm as you keep your hand close to it. 
You eye the moles on his skin and the scars on his body. 
Your hands always itch to touch him, to graze his skin with the tips of your fingers, and you can do so when he’s fast asleep and unaware of your loving touches. 
You raise your hand up to his face, pushing away the curl that hangs loosely over his forehead. Your touch is light as a feather as you trace the bridge of his nose, and his cheek, before you return your hand back to his chest, freezing when a sigh falls from his lips and he stirs in his sleep, pulling you tighter against him in the process before he sinks deeper into the pillows, eyes still shut and heart still beating softly. 
You breathe out and relax when he continues sleeping deeply. 
You don’t want to get caught admiring him, and touching him like this, when only a few days ago, you feared that you would lose him after Eddie confronted you both. 
You cried yourself to sleep that night. 
His words cut deep, and the fear of losing him added to the hurt. You weren’t ready to lose this, you weren’t ready to lose him, and you thought that you were so very close to it until he showed up the next morning, and asked if things would stay the same between you and him now that someone found out.
The weight that stayed on your shoulders nearly crushed you, but he took it off you, and without realizing that he did, he took some of your worries too, just not the pain, and the mark he left on your heart with a few simple words. But it didn’t matter, because kissing him and feeling his touch again, was all that mattered, to know that it wasn’t over just yet… that mattered. 
You can hide the sadness and the pain when he holds you like this, you can even forget about it… momentarily. 
You forgot about it last night, when he kissed your neck and he marked your skin, when he unraveled you with his tongue and the touch of his hands, when he split you open and kissed you like you were his, when he looked into your eyes and he held your wrist as the tips of his fingers touched your palm, like he wanted to entwine them with yours and feel you closer and closer as you were chest to chest and his lips moved with yours like none have ever did before. 
Shivers run down your spine, and butterflies dance in your stomach when the sound of his voice calling out your name echoes in your mind. 
You might not be the one for him. And you know that there might be others, but you don’t even want to let your mind go there, just the mere thought of it, fills you with nausea. He keeps coming back to you, that’s what matters the most to you. You know that you can give him so much more than anyone else ever could. If only he let you. If only there was a chance. 
You nearly jump from the bed when the ringing of the doorbell pulls you out of your thoughts, and it echoes through the quiet house. 
Your eyes widen, and your heart starts pounding as panic settles deep in your chest. You stare at Steve, who is peacefully asleep, still. 
You flinch at the second ringing. 
“Fuck,” you whisper when you remember the burgundy car in your driveway. There is no reason for Steve to be at your place so early in the morning. There is no believable explanation either, what will you say to whoever it is on the other side of the door?
If this is one of your friends, you are screwed, so screwed. 
You know, as a matter of fact, that it isn’t Eddie – he wouldn’t show up this early unless it was an emergency, and even then, he’d be in your room by now. 
“Steve,” you whisper, trying to shake him awake, but he only grumbles in his sleep and hides his face further into the pillows. 
You sigh. 
You push his arm off and escape his embrace. You throw the covers off, and jump up from your bed, standing in only your underwear for a moment as you search for your clothes, you reach for his shirt instead and throw it on, before you rush out of the room, trying to fix your messy hair as you run down the stairs. 
You don’t have much time to come up with lies and excuses as to why Steve’s car is in your driveway, whoever it is on the other side of the door, is getting a little impatient. 
“I’m coming,” you grumble and unlock the front door before you rip it open, holding your breath. 
“Finally!” 
You sigh out in relief, rolling your eyes at your own panic. You step aside and open the door a little wider. 
“What took you so long?” Your sister murmurs as she steps inside and brushes past you. She is carrying a bag in one hand and the bright pink baby carrier your baby niece is currently sleeping in. 
All your annoyance leaves your body right this second, your eyes soften and a smile appears on your face. 
“Hello to you too, Twinkie.” 
She rolls her eyes at your nickname but pulls you in for a side hug after dropping the bag on the ground. 
“Give me her,” you smile as you take the carrier from her arm, and carry it into the living room, smiling as you eye the little features of the baby girl. You put the carrier down on the couch. “Hi Francine,” you whisper, gently tapping her tiny nose. “She’s so big already!” 
Your sister laughs as she follows you into the living room after kicking off her shoes, “you’ve seen her last week, I don’t think she grew much.” 
“She kind of did,” you whisper, taking Francine’s tiny hand. “They grow so fast.”
Your sister walks over to the window, peeking outside, she clears her throat, “do I wanna know whose car that is?” 
You glance over your shoulder and swallow nervously. 
You’re glad that her memory is awful. 
Everyone knows who is driving the burgundy BMW, and your sister still lived in Hawkins when he got it. She should know who it belongs to.
Her lips curl into a smirk, and she wiggles her brows, “casual hook up, or… is it something serious?” 
You know that she has been waiting for this day. 
It is something serious, to you. 
It is something serious when he holds you closely and kisses you softly, when his eyes soften and his lips curl into a smile at the sight of you. 
It is something serious when your heart flutters every time his knuckles brush against yours. 
It is something serious when you fall asleep in his arms and wake up in the very same spot. 
It is something serious when you keep falling and falling with no end in sight. 
Will you ever stop falling in love with him? 
Will there ever be a moment where your feelings and your love will stop at one level, or will you continue falling harder every passing moment? 
Your sister raises her eyebrows, lips curling into an even bigger smile, when she notices the flustered look on your face, the dreamy look in your eyes. 
“Something serious, huh?” 
You blink. 
Staring at her, with your cheeks now feeling warm… way too warm, you shake your head quickly. 
“N-No.” 
You curse inwardly, for giving yourself away so easily with your stuttering and your blushing. That’s not how you ever reacted before when she mentioned any of your hookups. 
She grins at you, wiggling her eyebrows, “mhm sure, Daisy.” 
You roll your eyes at her teasing glances, but the nickname makes you smile. 
Out of all the flowers, your mom loved Daisies the most, she would put the dainty flowers in your braids, and behind your ear whenever you were out in the garden. You would pick them for her and make little bouquets to surprise her with. 
She always called you her little Daisy. 
Your sister picked up on that nickname, though she used it to mock you at first when she went through a weird phase of hating flowers – which is really ironic considering the flower shop she ended up working at when she moved to the city.
She could’ve given you another nickname, something silly – something like the name you gave to her, but she spared you, luckily. 
“Shut up, Twinkie,” you mumble, as you look back at your niece, who is beginning to stir in her sleep, her long lashes fluttering as small noises escape her mouth. “As happy as I am to see this little bean, why are you here at uh,” you pause, turning your head to look at the clock on the wall, “ten in the morning?” You ask. 
She makes her way over to you, a sweet smile appearing on her face, as she gives you her best puppy eyes. 
“I was hoping that you could look after Francine?” She asks, still smiling. “Lisa is getting married soon, and she asked me to go wedding dress shopping with her, I can’t take her, we’ll probably be out all day, and I can’t wait for Ethan to get home, his shift won’t end before–”
“It’s fine, I’ll look after her,” you interrupt her, despite the slight nervousness that rises up in you. 
You have no experience with babies at all, you have given her the bottle, you even changed her diaper, but your sister was around, and you didn’t spend the whole day alone with her. 
She sighs in relief, she puts her hand on your shoulder, “oh thank you!”
“Don’t mention it, I’d never say no to hanging out with my favorite girl.” 
“You need to spend more time with her anyways, you coming once a week isn’t enough!” 
You frown at your sister, “you’re the one who moved away!” 
She waves her hand at you, walking around the couch, she walks over to the carrier, “she always does that little scrunch with her nose before she wakes up.” 
You smile, watching as she leans in to place a gentle kiss to her daughter’s cheek. 
“Okay,” she whispers, pulling back to look at you, “I put everything into the bag, diapers, bottles, formula, a change of clothes in case her diapers leak, and uh… pacifiers. And uh, you know if she cries just lie down with her and put her on your chest, she loves cuddles.” 
You nod, “yeah, I know, I haven’t forgotten. I got this.”
“Yeah you do, Daisy. And if you need help, just call Eddie–”
“Are you kidding?” You laugh, shaking your head as amusement flashes in your eyes. 
Eddie and Max were there, the last time your sister showed up with her husband and little Francine. 
While the redhead was rather excited to hold the little girl, Eddie felt too afraid to even touch her, and he nearly gagged when Max chased him with a dirty diaper. 
“He looked at her like he was scared of her!” 
Your sister laughs, “yeah, right. Okay, so not Eddie then, I’m sure Max would love to help though, or maybe someone else – but I’ll get going now, I promise, I’ll make it up to you, you got this, Daisy.” She smiles, ruffling your hair, she leans down to look at her daughter one more time, “bye bug, I’ll see you soon,” she whispers and squeezes her tiny foot before she steps away. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, see you later, Twinkie.” 
The moment the front door is slammed shut, you let out a long sigh, and throw your head back against the pillows on your couch. You bring your hand up to your face and pinch the bridge of your nose. 
You are still tired, and it seems as though Steve is still sleeping soundly. 
You want nothing more than to return back to bed and sink into your pillows again. 
You definitely won’t get any sleep now, but you still get up and slowly lift the baby carrier, hoping that the movement won’t wake her up. You try to be careful as you make your way out of the living room and up the stairs. 
When you walk into your room, you find Steve now laying on his stomach, his face buried in your pillow. The sheets are low on his body, his whole back is exposed. 
The tiny cooing sounds from inside the carrier, cause your lips to curl into a big smile. You place it down on your carpet, and kneel down, giggling when you’re met by her big eyes. She starts wiggling around when she sees you. 
“Hi little angel,” you whisper, and lean closer to unfasten the safety belts, before you lift her up from the carrier, placing your right hand behind her head, you pull her into your chest, her hand instantly reaches for your hair, clasping her tiny fingers around it, she makes you laugh when she starts pulling it, making happy noises while she does so. 
You sit down on your bed, and lift your legs up, scooting back until you’re resting against the pillows behind you. You pull the covers over your lower body. 
A small squeal leaves her mouth.
“Shh, someone’s sleeping,” you whisper, tapping her little nose, glancing at Steve who is starting to stir in his sleep. 
You place her on your lap, and giggle at the cuteness as she stretches her little legs out. “That’s a cute onesie,” you whisper, rubbing her belly, “I bet you picked that yourself didn’t you? Pink is a pretty color on you, princess.” 
She babbles and wiggles around as she stares at you with her big eyes. 
Your voice, and the small coos pull Steve out of his deep sleep, his mind is still in a haze, his eyes still closed. 
“Da da da.” 
Your giggle follows the tiny voice. 
Steve scrunches his brows together, gripping the pillow underneath him, he slowly opens his eyes and looks at your side of the bed, his lips part and his eyes widen completely, something in his chest stirs strongly as he stares at the sight in front of him. 
He is still sleeping. 
He is still dreaming. 
A smile is resting on your face, eyes lightened up as you entertain the little baby girl on your lap, a pink bow around her head, big eyes resembling your own as she stares at you with a smile on her face, her hair color is the same as yours. 
Steve swallows the lump that grew in his throat, warmth settles in his chest, surrounding his heart and filling it with something, with adoration. 
His eyes soften when you lean down to kiss her forehead, squishing her tiny cheeks. 
“You’re the prettiest girl, Francis,” you whisper, using her nickname. 
His lips curl into a smile, despite the confusion that still lingers in his features. 
This is surely one of his dreams, he is convinced of it, why else would he wake up beside you, and a baby who looks like you?
But when you turn to face him, and the little girl follows your movement, looking at him with wide eyes, he isn’t so sure anymore. 
He blinks, watching as you reach for Francis’s little arm, waving her tiny hand at him, “say hi Steve.” 
The little girl babbles even louder, making a grabby hand at him. 
Steve smiles at her, raising his hand up, he waves at her.
You can’t help but laugh at the lost and confused look on his face, his brows are pulled together, his lips parted as he looks between you and your niece. 
He turns around on his back, and pushes himself so he’s leaning against your headboard, adjusting the cover, he pulls it up higher. He looks around the room, before his eyes return to the two of you, he runs his fingers through his messy hair, eyes flickering back and forth.
Your lips tug into a smirk, you can tell that he doesn’t understand a thing right now. 
You look at him, as you pull your niece closer, holding her up, you press her against your chest, “can you believe that we made a baby overnight?” 
You almost burst into laughter when his brown eyes widened with pure shock, and he choked a little. 
He blinks, shaking his head, “I know I just woke up, and I’m still sleepy… but… I still kind of remember biology.” 
Francine makes another grabby hand at him, “ma ma.”
“I dunno, but I’m pretty sure she just called you mama.”
Steve’s cheeks heat up, and he turns away from you, looking around your room again before his eyes catch the picture on your nightstand, the one of you and your sister. Oh. 
“Ah… Your niece,” Steve murmurs as he looks back at the two of you. 
“Good morning, Harrington,” you giggle. Francine copies your giggle, and Steve can’t help but smile. “Oh you like that name, huh? It’s funny isn’t it? Harrington.” Her little eyes crinkle, and she starts babbling with a laugh. Steve keeps her eyes on her, smiling at the little girl.
“That’s Francine,” you smile, introducing your niece to him. 
Steve lifts his hand up, waving his fingers at her, “hi Francine, I’m Steve.” 
She squirms in your arms, making happy noises as she blinks at him. Steve chuckles, he scoots closer to you, and he lifts his hand, and touches her tiny one. Francine wraps her hand around his finger, gripping it tightly, making his smile even bigger. 
“Is your sister here?” He asks, without looking away from the little girl. 
You shake your head, “no, she asked me to babysit today. So uh… I’ll be busy with my girl here today.” 
The urge to stay here with you, and this cute little mini you, feels so strong. 
“Want me to help?” Steve asks. 
You’re a little stunned by his question, and can only stare in surprise. 
“Huh?” 
“I mean, I don’t mind staying to help,” Steve shrugs, glancing at you for a second before he gives his attention back to Francine, who stares at him in awe.
The thought of spending a whole day with Steve, taking care of a baby with him, sounds like heaven. 
The only reason why he’s ever even around you without the group is because of sex, and that only. You don’t meet up just to watch movies, cook together or anything else, you only meet up for one thing, that’s all. 
The fact that he is willing to just spend time with you, without expecting anything to happen baffles you a little. 
“I-I… Do you really want to stay?” 
He nods. 
“Not much of a choice, to be honest,” he murmurs with a fond smile on his face as he gestures to your niece who is still holding his finger tightly. 
“O-Okay,” you whisper, shakily as nervousness and excitement rise up in you. 
“She’s so adorable,” Steve whispers, chuckling when Francine babbles at him, “she looks like you.” 
You smile before you realize what he just said, and heat rushes to your cheeks. 
She’s so adorable, she looks like you.
“I-I uh,” you stutter, trying to keep your cool, “so you’re gonna stay then?”
“Yeah, I’d love to hang out with Blondie and mini Blondie over here,” he chuckles as he taps her nose. 
Your heart could burst right then and there, your cheeks feeling incredibly hot the longer you sit here and stare at him. 
“Cool,” you say with a small voice as you suddenly feel the need to escape for a moment, “would you mind looking after her for a moment then? I wanna take a quick shower or else I’ll walk around looking like a bum all day.” 
Steve turns to look at you, he takes in the sight of your messy hair, and the shirt on your body, only now noticing that it’s his. His insides tingle, and his lips curl into a smile. 
You look like a cute bum. He almost blurts out, but bites his tongue. 
“Sure, go ahead, me and Francine are just gonna hang out, right?” 
She squeals in response, making jumpy movements. 
You both laugh at her. 
You lay her down beside him, and tickle her belly, giggling when she starts kicking her feet, “alright, I’ll be right back, angel.” 
Steve doesn’t even notice how big his smile is, how soft his eyes are as he stares at you, how warm the feeling in his chest is. 
“She might roll over on her belly, and if she gets a little fuzzy just pick her up, she loves snuggles. I’m gonna be quick.” 
Steve scoots closer to Francine, leaning his elbow on the pillow, he rests his head against his palm, and glances at you, “it’s fine, take your time, I’m just gonna chat with her.” 
Francine is still kicking her feet and waving around with her little arms.
“Oh yeah, she’s very talkative,” you giggle, and get up from the bed, you walk over to your dresser and pick out some clothes to change into. As much as you would love to wear his shirt all day, he needs it himself – although, you wouldn’t mind him walking around shirtless. 
Once you get everything you need, you turn back to take a look at them, and you nearly melt into a puddle when you see the way she is still clutching his finger, kicking her legs and babbling something to him, while he watches her with a smile on his face. 
“O-Okay, I’ll be right back.” 
You leave the room in a haste, but Steve doesn’t even notice, too busy staring at little Francine. He adores the resemblance of you, and the color of her eyes that matches yours, she truly looks like you. 
Steve can’t remember the last time he saw or even held a baby, he’s not sure if he ever even held one. He was ten when one of his cousins was born, but he didn’t care to hold him back then. 
Francine keeps making a grabby hand at him, while she tugs at his finger, starting to get fuzzy after a few minutes pass without your presence in the room. 
He sits up straighter and pulls the blanket up higher, he reaches for one of your throw pillows and places it on his lap. 
“Alright Francine,” Steve whispers, he takes a deep breath and furrows his brows in concentration as he carefully lifts her up, supporting her head with his palm, he pulls her closer and lays her down on the soft pillow. 
She coos and starts blowing bubbles, making Steve laugh. 
“Oh, you’re so adorable,” he smiles, pulling her a little closer, “did you pick that bow today?” He asks, eying the headband around her little head. 
She makes a few grunting noises, though looking at him with a happy look on her face. 
“Your auntie loves those bows too, she puts some in her ponytails sometimes,” Steve says, talking to her as though he will get more than just a few babbles from her. “I bet you’re gonna steal them from her someday–”
Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrt
Steve’s face pales at the sound, his eyes widen. 
The noise that came from her diapers sounded more than just air. 
“Oh fuck,” he mumbles before his eyes widen further at the curse word that just left his lips, “I shouldn’t have said that, shit– I mean, I’m sorry, please forget what I just said,” he rambles, as though she understood a single thing that he said. 
Francine babbles, kicking her feet into his stomach with a happy squeal. 
“Um,” he panics, looking around the room, “Blondie!?”
“What Steve!?” You call from the bathroom, “it’s been five minutes!” 
“I uh–” He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he furrows his brows, “code red…?” 
You nearly laugh at his choice of words, you only ever used code red in the upside down, for the real emergencies. 
You can already guess what happened, and it only makes your amusement grow bigger. You quickly put your clothes on, and brush your hair before you make your way out of the bathroom and back to them. 
“Okay, I’m here,” you announce, placing his shirt that you stole earlier on your bed, you walk over to his side, and take a seat beside him, “that was the quickest shower of my life.” 
He gets a whiff of your vanilla body wash, of the mint from your toothpaste, and the smell of perfume that lingers in your hair, making his chest flutter. 
“She uh– I think she needs a diaper change.” 
“Oh,” you laugh, “that’s what you’re panicking about?” 
Steve glares at you.
“You wanted to help,” you shrug as you get up again, making your way out of the room again to get the bag with Francine’s stuff. “You gotta learn how to change diapers, Harrington!” 
Steve huffs nervously, “no big deal right?” He whispers to Francine. 
“Da da da.” 
“Yeah,” Steve laughs, “right.”
You come back into the room, and put the bag on the ground, picking out new diapers, wet wipes, baby powder and the spare onesie, along with the thin baby towel that you spread out on your mattress. 
“Alright, Lego head,” you raise your eyebrows at him, “do you wanna practice for your future nuggets or are you scared of baby poop?” 
He snorts, shaking his head at you.
“No, I’m not scared of baby poop.” 
You walk over to them both and lean down before him, you pick Francine up, and scrunch your face up, “yeah, you really need a diaper change, angel.”
Steve watches as you carry her over to the other side, placing her down on the towel you spread out. You undo the buttons of her onesie, smiling at the little girl. 
“Well, come on,” you giggle at him, “it’s an experience you gotta make, Steve.” 
Steve takes a deep breath, he throws the pillow off his lap and removes the cover. He gets up from the bed, standing there in his boxers for a moment, until his eyes find the sweatpants he discarded last night, he quickly throws them on, along with the shirt you wore earlier. 
“Alright,” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, he walks up beside you, “just tell me what to do.” 
You chuckle at his nervousness, you place your hand on his shoulder, “don’t worry, if Max was able to do it, you can do it too.” 
A breathy laugh falls from his lips. 
You guide him, giving him a little step by step of what to do. 
You watch the way his brows knit together, and the way he is nodding to himself as he follows your words. 
He doesn’t even look disgusted when the smell hits him, he only chuckles at the way Francine continues babbling happily. 
“She’s a happy baby, isn’t she?” 
You nod, smiling down at your niece, “yes she is.”
You hand him the new diapers and the baby powder, before you put the used wipes into the dirty diaper, roll it up carefully and throw it into the trash in your bathroom before you return to your room. 
“How old is she?” 
“She’s gonna be three months old tomorrow,” you say, smiling as you step up beside him again. 
Steve raises his eyebrows at Francine, “oh, you’re gonna be a big girl tomorrow?” He jokes as he tickles her belly, making her laugh. 
The smile on your face widens, the feeling in your chest growing stronger and brighter. 
Her small giggles, and the fond smile that rests in his tired features spark something deep inside of you, a warming and comforting feeling appears as you watch him take care of her with careful and slow movements. 
“Is that okay?” He asks you, gesturing to the diapers he put on her, “or is it too tight?”
You lean closer to him and check the pressure, “no, that’s perfect, Steve.”
“It is?” He asks, surprised. 
You nod, and start to put her onesie back on, “yeah, I don’t even know what you panicked about, you’ve done a better job than me, I didn’t know what I was doing the first time,” you laugh. “You did good, Lego head.” 
A dimpled grin appears on his face, despite the redness in his cheeks. 
“I-I think caring for a bunch of kids that turned into teens turned me into a natural, even babies. I mean, Dustin counts as a baby, doesn’t he?” He jokes, watching the way your eyes crinkle and your lips spread before you burst into giggles. 
Francine watches you with big eyes before she copies your giggles like before. 
Steve’s eyes light up, as he watches you both. 
The warmth in his chest spreads, as happiness rises up in him. 
After adjusting her clothes and the bow on her head, you pick her up into your arms, leaning down to kiss her cheek. 
You don’t even notice just how soft the look in his eyes, how the ghost of a smile now lingers on his lips, as he stares at the both of you in awe, watching the way Francine buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you keep a gentle hand on the back of her head. 
“Do you want some breakfast? I can make you something after I give this princess her bottle, I think she’s getting tired again.”
Steve’s heart thumps strongly in his chest, he can’t deny the emotions of adoration in him as he looks at you with the baby on your arm. 
“I can make you a breakfast sandwich or anything else you want.” 
Steve blinks. 
“Uh, you don’t have to make anything for me, Blondie. I can make you something though.”
You shake your head, “no, you’re my guest, I’ll make you breakfast, and you can feed her if you want.” 
“Okay,” he says with a sigh, nodding his head, “I’ll make you lunch or dinner though.”
“Oh, are you gonna woo me with your cooking skills now?” You giggle. 
He looks down with a smile, “I promised I would, didn’t I?” 
“Yeah, you did.” 
Francine clasps her fingers around your hair again, pulling it stronger than before, making you wince a little. 
“Okay, okay, someone’s getting a little grumpy now. I’m gonna go make her the bottle.” 
“I’ll be right there with you, I’m just gonna go brush my teeth real quick,” Steve gestures to your bathroom, “do you need me to carry the bag down?”
“No, it’s fine, it’s not heavy,” you say as you step towards him, “but can you help me put it on my shoulder?”
“Yeah, of course.”
He grabs the bag and steps towards you, putting the strap around your shoulder. His eyes soften yet again, when he sees you looking down at your niece, smiling as she blinks at you with her big eyes. 
Steve doesn’t even notice that his hand still lingers on your shoulder, or that he’s rubbing your back, he is too in awe of the two of you, and that feeling stays with him, even when you leave the room and go downstairs, even when he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, he stares at his reflection in the mirror, and he can’t even unsee the happiness and the relaxation in his features, but he decides to pay no mind to it. 
When he joins you downstairs, he finds you in the kitchen, finishing up on Francine’s bottle, you’re shaking it, while whispering something to her as you’re still holding her in your arm, still. 
Steve doesn’t know what it is, but the sight before him, makes him freeze in his spot. 
As you stand there in your kitchen, with a smile on your lips, and a look of adoration in your eyes, you’re cooing at your niece, giggling every time she babbles something at you, he realizes something. 
You are comfortable, right now. 
You’re in your home, away from the eyes of strangers, hidden from the world that you have only shown one side of yourself to, your walls are down, you are just yourself, and there is no shame behind your eyes, because all your attention goes to someone you adore and love, and don’t feel the need to hide from. 
Your eyes shine brightly, your features are relaxed in a way they have never been before, and your smile is so genuine, so real. 
You’re talking to her with a small and gentle voice, you hold her tightly against your chest – and you… god you look so beautiful like this. 
You look so beautiful with a baby in your arms. 
Warmth spreads across his whole body, he likes the sight in front of him, he likes it so much that it should scare him, but it doesn’t. 
“There he is, Francis,” you smile, glancing at Steve, you don’t even notice how frozen in place he is, how heaven struck he looks, “are you ready to give her the bottle?” 
Steve blinks, snapping out of his mind, he nods at you with a blush on his cheeks. 
You brush past him, and gesture for him to follow you into the living room, after you grab the cloth from the counter. 
You place the bottle on the coffee table, and wait for him to take a seat on the couch. 
“Alright, you gotta tell me what to do,” Steve says nervously, as he sits down, “I’ve never done this before.” 
“Don’t be nervous, you got this,” you assure him. 
You step between his legs, and lean down to place Francine into his arms. 
Without needing to be told, he cradles the back of her head, as he gently pulls her into his arms, a smile spreading on his lips when her big eyes look into his. 
“Okay,” you whisper and put the cloth under her chin, adjusting it over her clothes in case a little accident might happen. 
“Am I holding her correctly?” Steve asks, looking up at you. 
The side of her face is nuzzled into his chest, the back of her head resting in the crook of his arm. You didn’t even need to guide him, he truly is a natural. 
“Yeah,” you smile, “you’re doing great.”
You hand him the bottle, and sit down beside him. 
“Did you test the temperature?” Steve asks, and you almost want to laugh at his question. 
“Yeah Steve, I did.” 
He nods at you. 
With a chuckle, you pull your feet up onto the sofa and sit on your knees, turning your body towards them. 
“Okay, now gently place the teat into her mouth and slowly tilt the bottle, she will do the rest.” 
He furrows his brows, poking his tongue through his lips, he focuses on your niece as he follows your words. 
You watch him closely, how soft and concentrated his eyes are, how careful his movements are, how small she looks in his arms, how sweet the sight of them is. 
Francine raises her little arm, and places her tiny hand on the bottle as she starts sucking on the teat, small noises falling from her. 
“Oh my god,” Steve whispers, the biggest smile you have ever seen, now glowing in his features as he looks at her in awe, “she’s the cutest little bean.” 
“Yeah, she is,” you smile and tilt your head as you watch them, the fluttering feeling in your chest sparking.
Her eyelashes flutter, her big eyes still staring into his. 
“I’m gonna cry, Blondie,” Steve murmurs, adoring the little human in his arms. “She's so tiny and adorable.” 
You move closer and reach for the corner of the cloth, wiping away the bit of milk that rolls down her chin. 
“You’re gonna have one of those someday too.”
Steve smiles at your words, nodding as he whispers “hopefully.” 
But he doesn’t notice the way your own smile falls, the way your eyes sadden for a moment, the way you look down and blink away the feelings you don’t want him to see. And he doesn’t realize how quiet you get, he is too distracted by Francine and the thoughts in his head, the pictures of a future he longs for so badly. 
Only when the bottle is empty and he removes it, does he turn back to you, but still too blinded by his mind to see the look in your eyes. You take the bottle from his hand, and place it back on the coffee table. 
“You gotta hold her against your chest now,” you tell him and remove the cloth from her body, you place it on his chest instead, “and gently pat her back so she can burp.” 
You guide him again, helping him hold her correctly as he places her against his chest, he puts his hand on her back, and starts patting gently. 
“Is that good?”
“Yeah,” you whisper and scoot closer to him, you reach for her tiny hand, caressing it as you watch her with a smile on your face, “she’s tired.” 
“Yeah, pooping must’ve been really exhausting,” Steve jokes, making you giggle. 
“Yeah, totally–”
A loud burp falls from her mouth. 
“Oh that was a big one,” Steve chuckles as he stops patting her, “you did good, bug.”
“She didn’t even spit, she usually does a little, wow you really do have magical hands,” you chuckle, and remove the cloth from his shoulder. 
“Told you, I’m a natural,” he smiles proudly. 
You roll your eyes playfully. 
“Do you want me to take her now?” You ask. 
He shakes his head at you, “can I hold her for a while?” 
Confusion flashes in your eyes. You know how badly he needs his coffee in the mornings, it’s one of the first things he does after he wakes up, going into the kitchen to brew his beloved morning coffee. He didn’t even take a single sip yet, but he doesn’t seem to mind, he is too in awe of the baby on his chest. 
Realization replaces the look in your eyes – he is entering a baby fever trance, with your niece nonetheless. It makes your smile reappear, that’s how you feel too, every time you get to spend time with her. 
“Of course,” you whisper, as your gaze softens. 
Francine’s eyelashes flutter, her blinking getting slower and lesser. 
“She’s gonna pass out though, you should sit back a little so she can lay on you.” 
He nods at your words, placing one hand on her back and the other under her bum, he lays back slowly, his lips twitching into a small smile when he sees her already falling asleep. She scrunches up her nose as she nuzzles her face into his chest, making you both laugh when she suddenly throws her hand up, managing to catch onto a strand of his hair. 
She wiggles around for a moment, before her eyes start falling shut. 
“And she’s out,” Steve whispers, chuckling to himself. “I wish I could fall asleep this fast.” 
“Yeah, me too.”
Her cheek is squished against him, she’s breathing softly now, her hand falling from his hair and onto his shoulder, her little headband beginning to slip off. 
You reach out to take it off her head slowly, and lean in to place a soft kiss on her forehead, unaware of the fond smile on Steve’s lips, or the feelings that rush through him because of you. 
“I’m gonna go make some coffee and breakfast now,” you mumble as you pull away, and get up from the couch, grabbing the bottle and the cloth. 
Steve’s eyes follow you as you walk over to the TV stand, and grab the remote, handing it to him, “you can watch something if you want, it won’t disturb her, she’s a heavy sleeper.”
“I’m good, I’ll watch her for now,” he whispers. 
“Okay, I’ll be right back,” you say, and give him a smile before you leave the room. 
A genuine smile. 
You smiled at him before, countless of times actually, but he could never tell what was real and what wasn’t, what was genuine and what was forced or just sarcastic. But this, this was a real smile, and there was no second meaning behind it. You just smiled at him, naturally. It makes him feel… happy, and as he looks down at the little girl that has your features, he realizes something. 
The feeling in his chest was never for nothing, it was never false or misleading. 
It was just as real as the smile you blessed him with. 
Suddenly, everything before him doesn't seem as dull and colorless as it did all these past months and even years, something sparks before his eyes and he can see again, he can feel something besides the never ending gnawing in his chest and the restlessness in his bones, the fears that nestled deep into his soul. He finally sees something other than the darkened clouds and the red lights that keep flashing before his eyes. 
A light that keeps peeking through every once in a while is on the verge of breaking through, making the walls around him rattle as the foundation starts to crumble, one brick at a time starts falling into an abyss. 
A future lays before his eyes, calling out to him and waiting to be grasped, an echo, a whisper, a glimpse of what could be if things were only different. 
For the rest of the day, Steve feels as though he had fallen into a pleasant dream, a world where it’s only you and him, a little girl that made him realize just how badly he wants to have a family of his own – he already knew that he wanted it, but he pictured the wrong person by his side, a person he no longer even wanted. 
He was blinded by old feelings, and the wish to have something real again, when it never even was to begin with. 
The feelings that are sparking in him now, feel so different from anything that he had ever felt before, and he only opens his eyes to them more and more as the day passes, and he sees a side of you that he had never seen before. 
He sees with how much love and gentleness you treat your niece, he sees the way your eyes hold nothing but adoration for the girl that you would do anything for. 
He hears how soft your voice can get. 
He feels how soft your touch can be when you once again hand her to him. 
And his heart beats so strongly, so fastly in his chest when a giggle falls from your lips after Francine pouts when you take her away from him again, only to be forced to place her back into his arms when she almost starts crying. 
Steve adores her, and he adores you – a little more as every second of this day passes. 
The thing that pushes him nearer towards the finish line of realization, is this very moment in front of him. 
Your niece fell asleep on his chest yet again, you are sitting right next to him, with your head on his shoulder and your eyes glued on her, your finger tracing her little features. The urge to pull you closer and hold you feels so strong to the point that his fingers start itching. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t cook dinner for you,” he whispers. 
You look at him through your lashes, the corner of your lip twitching as your eyes flicker to his lips for a brief moment. 
The only light in the room now coming from the TV, the volume set on the lowest. The rain is still falling, even as the night nears. 
“It’s okay, Francis didn’t let you,” you giggle softly, not knowing that the sound makes his heart flutter. “Besides, the pizza was really good.” 
“Yeah, it was,” he whispers. 
He notices how tired you look, how the sleepiness is beginning to set into your features now too. 
“Look at her tiny nose,” you whisper as you look back at her, “and those little hands.”
Something in the way you hold her hand and whisper so adoringly about her, makes him long for you even more – but not in a way he had felt before, no, this is different, this is so very serious. 
Steve lifts his arm as a blush creeps up to his cheeks, he wraps his arm around you, and pulls you closer, “come here,” he whispers into your hair, “there’s space for two Blondies on my chest.”
He doesn’t know what kind of emotions he can trigger in you, with such simple words. 
He doesn’t know that you have been dying to feel this. 
You lay your head on his chest, and he can’t help but smile at the sigh that falls from your lips. You put your arm around Francine, and snuggle against him, and you stay like that, for a while at least, until Steve allows his feelings to take the lead. 
He adjusts the blanket over Francine before he pulls you even closer, and he buries his fingers in your hair, allowing himself to play with it like he only ever does when you’re fast asleep and unaware of his soft touches or the glances that fall upon your skin. 
He would feel joy if he knew about the emotions that linger inside of you. 
“You will be an amazing dad to your little nuggets someday, Steve,” you say in a whisper, it’s almost too quiet for him to hear, “and a good husband too.” 
The shakiness in your voice and the sadness goes by unnoticed by him, he is too stunned by your words. 
If he could see inside your head, he would know how much sadness there is, how the dark clouds always reside, how you don’t see a future for yourself because you know that he won’t be in it, and without him, what will you have? What will you be? A wilting rose, left behind to die. You are barely holding on now, but you are still here, because he is still keeping you alive. Your life is in his hands. 
Steve takes a deep breath, he opens his mouth to whisper to you, only to see you fast asleep now too, your cheek squished against his chest just like Francine’s is. 
He breathes out, lips curling into a smile as he stops playing with your hair. 
“You will be amazing too, Blondie,” he whispers. 
A girlfriend. A wife. A mother. 
Whatever you choose to be, whoever you will bless with your love, they are going to be so lucky to have you. 
And before he can even realize where his thoughts are taking him, a frown nestles into his features. The thought that he will become a memory to you, makes him feel uneasy. The thought that someone will step into your life, and take away what you both have, fills him with gray-ish sadness once again. The image of someone putting a ring on your finger and getting to be the one to lift the veil and kiss you on the altar openly, in front of everybody, and without needing to hide, spreads the darkness in him, yet again. 
He looks down at you, at the way you look so comfortable in his embrace, while your soft hand stays on the girl’s back, he admires you, and he feels no shame to do so, not even when he lifts his hand to brush your hair out of your face. 
But his time with you is cut short when the front door unlocks and opens, and footsteps echo in the hallway, a moment later. 
He turns his face away from you, when your sister steps into the living room, freezing in her steps when she sees him. 
Steve swallows the lump in his throat, giving her a tight lipped smile, he raises his hand to wave at her, “hi…”
She furrows her brows as she takes in the sight of you three, her lips pulling into a confused smile. She takes her denim jacket off and walks further into the room, her lips curling into a big smile when she takes a look at her girl. 
But then her eyes fall back on him, and suddenly, her lips part in surprise. 
“Hi…Oh– you, hang on,” she mumbles, tilting her head before her eyes widen, “Steve Harrington?”
Steve doesn’t know what to think of the look on her face, or the stunned tone in her voice. 
He met her before, at the hospital when she came to visit you, but he didn’t talk to her, and her reaction makes him wonder if you have mentioned him before. 
“Yeah… that’s uh… that’s me.”
The silence that follows is almost too loud, he can see the way she looks between you both, back and forth, as her brows stay furrowed. 
She points a finger between you both, “so uh… you’re her boyfriend?”
Steve hesitates, and he glances down at you, bitterness lays on his tongue when he utters the next words, “uh… no… no, I’m not.” Sadly, he thinks.
And when he registers the words that popped into his head out of nowhere, he suddenly wants nothing more than to escape this situation, fearing his own feelings again. 
“I-I should go now.” 
“Oh, you’re not staying another night?” She asks, a somewhat smug tone in her voice as she looks at you. 
He would love to, but it’s better to go now. It’s not safe to stay, not for his heart.
“No, I have to work tomorrow.”
“Ah,” she nods and walks over to the three of you, “I’ll take her now,” she whispers, and carefully picks her daughter up. The little girl stirs in her sleep, grunting quietly but not opening her eyes just yet. 
“She’s a heavy sleeper,” Steve chuckles as he watches the way Francine relaxes into her mother’s arms. 
“She really is,” your sister laughs, and walks over to the armchair, taking a seat before she looks back up at Steve, “kind of like Daisy when she’s relaxed,” she nudges her chin towards you. 
A smile appears on his face, and he looks down at you, his arm is still wrapped around you, and he already dreads the feeling of having to let you go. 
“Yeah,” he whispers, taking a long look at you, before he decides to get up. 
A sigh leaves his lips, and he slowly slips away from you, replacing his chest with a pillow for your head, his eyes soften when you scrunch your nose up just the way your niece did earlier. He adjusts the blanket over you, fighting the urge to leave a kiss on your forehead before he steps away. 
Your sister eyes him closely, watching how he treats you with so much care. 
When Steve steps away, and looks away from you, glancing at your sister, heat rushes to his cheeks when he sees the way she looks between you both, a smug look lingering in her eyes, a small but teasing smile on her face. 
He wants to run. 
“Okay uh,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck before he points his finger at the hallway, “I’m gonna go.” 
“Okay,” she nods, “thanks for helping with Francine.”
He waves his hand, a smile now reappearing on his face as he looks at the baby girl, already missing the feeling of holding her. 
“No need to thank me, I loved spending time with these two,” he chuckles, pointing between you and your niece. “But uh, I’m gonna head out.”
“Alright,” she smiles at him.
He takes one last look at you before he turns around and makes his way out of the living room, he puts his Nike’s on, and grabs the car keys he threw on the counter, last night. 
“Bye, Twinkie.”
“Bye…” She mumbles with furrowed brows, confused at the name he just called her by. 
The front door shuts quietly, yet loud enough to wake you up. With a flinch, you open your eyes, and look around the room, feeling a little disoriented. You look to your side, the empty spot beside you, making you frown. 
“Your boyfriend left,” your sister's voice sounds through the room. 
You turn to her, finding her in the armchair she always loved so much. A smug look is resting on her lips. 
“Shut up,” you mumble, glaring at her. 
She laughs at you, and leans back, getting comfortable in her seat. 
“Spill. Now.” 
-
The hot water rolls down Steve’s skin, the smell of shampoo surrounds him as he washes his hair. 
His eyes are closed, but a smile rests on his lips, as images of all the things that happened today replay in his mind. 
The fluttering in his chest hasn’t stopped at all, everything you did, everything you said, every single touch of yours has seemingly turned him into a hopeless teenager again – only, he isn’t one anymore, and the feelings inside of him, go much deeper than the ones of a seventeen year old boy. 
And no matter how much he tries to deny them, he just can’t, because it becomes less and less possible to pretend that they aren’t there.
Today, they shined through so brightly, when he saw how soft and gentle you could be, when he saw the sides of you that you never wanted to show. He saw something he never thought was even there. And it causes awful feelings to rise up in him, when he comes to the realization that all these years, you were only protecting yourself from the hurt in this world, and you did so by putting up a front and giving people the wrong pictures of yourself.
You were mean and rough to those you didn’t trust, and he was one of them, maybe he still is, but he saw you today. 
When you greeted him this morning, with your niece in your arms. 
When you kissed her little forehead, and held her in your sweet embrace. 
When you taught him to bottle feed her. 
When you admired her with him, and traced her little features with your finger and a loving smile on your face. 
When you told him how great of a husband he would be someday, and an amazing dad to his nuggets.
Wait… you said nuggets, plural. He never told you he wanted kids, so how did you know? How did you even know he would love to call his children that particular word? Was it intuition? Was it a coincidence? 
His eyebrows knit together with complete and utter confusion as the water just keeps running over his head, and the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. 
The RV. His conversation with Nancy. Him telling Nancy he wants to be someone’s husband and have six nuggets. Him pouring his desires out, thinking that everyone else in the vehicle was sound asleep.
But you weren’t.
Fuck, you weren’t asleep. You heard him. You heard him talking to Nancy, and you– you think that he wants those things with her still. He should clarify it, shouldn’t he? He wants to tell you that it was the dread of the world ending talking for him. He wants to explain himself to you–
Explain himself? Why? You probably wouldn’t care who he has kids with, or who he marries. You would simply give him a thumbs up and a confused look on your face. But– He feels his stomach contracting with nerves, nerves he knows all too well. He doesn’t need to explain anything to you. He doesn’t need to clarify anything. 
But, he doesn’t want you to think he wants that family with Nancy Wheeler.
He really doesn’t.
And he is terrified that he doesn’t want you to misunderstand.
Absolutely fucking terrified.
And then, the realization, the surprise and the nerves turn into absolute guilt. He had also said a few things about you. Nancy told him that it’s sad you had to be included this way into the party, into their problems, but that you looked strong and determined after going into the upside down just one time.
And he replied with how much he desired you wouldn’t have gotten involved at all. It sounded harsh, it sounded vile and venomous… And it was intended that way, or at least that’s what he thought. 
Now, he realizes that he didn’t want you involved so you wouldn’t go through danger, but you did, you went through so much pain and suffering. Nancy was right, you were strong, and you didn’t second guess your actions when it meant saving someone. 
“Shit–” He jumped a bit when he felt the water turn cold, not realizing for how long he had been in his head, thinking, running through his thoughts and memories. He turned the water off and shook his head to get the excess of it out of his hair. 
He got out of the shower and grabbed a towel, a white one that had the smudge of a lipstick stain that never got off. Your lipstick. 
And just that mere stain made his heart jump and miss one beat, two beats, maybe three. Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
He really wants you to know he doesn’t mean what he said in the RV.
To both of those things.
Especially the one about Nancy.
“Fuck me.”
tagging friends and mutuals
@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @sherrylyn628 @munson-mjstan @maroon-cardigan @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @ibellcipem @corrodedcorpses @agirlwholovesrockstars
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ajcrowleys · 18 hours
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STEVE HARRINGTON Stranger Things | 3.08
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imfinereallyy · 7 hours
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I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind)
pt. 1
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
June 1996, Chicago
Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.
He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.
Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.
Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.
Little shit.
Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.
Looking at you, Lucas.
Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.
Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.
Until he did, with Eddie.
Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.
Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.
Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.
"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.
Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"
"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.
Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.
She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.
Fuck, he loved her.
"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.
Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.
"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.
"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.
Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.
"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."
It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.
Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.
Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"
Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"
Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."
Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."
Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.
Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."
Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.
Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."
Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"
"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."
"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.
Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.
"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."
Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.
Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.
Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.
Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.
"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.
"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."
Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"
"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.
Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."
Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."
The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."
Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."
Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"
It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."
"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.
Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.
Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.
tag list!:
@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic @slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec @goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch @ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso
(please let me know if you don't want a tag, I had to guess by the comments)
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hawkinsbnbg · 6 hours
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Eddie needed no words to convince Steve that he was beautiful.
Because those infatuated looks that washed over Steve like caramel every time, those reverent touches, those scalding kisses painted on Steve's body every night, and those gentle caresses on his scars had said everything he needed to know.
And yet, Eddie never once forgot to let him know how adored he was.
"You're so beautiful, darling," Eddie kissed his temple softly as they slow-danced in the kitchen.
Smiling, Steve leaned back and craned his neck slightly to give Eddie's chin a peck. "So are you, baby."
They had been preparing dinner but got distracted when Eddie kept sneaking kisses and Steve kept giggling about it.
As Steve was stirring the pot, Eddie had come up behind him and engulfed him in a loose hug with chin resting on his shoulder.
Then Eddie started humming and somehow, they ended up swaying to the off-tuned love song while waiting for their soup.
It was awfully domestic of them, but Steve couldn't care less when he was held in Eddie's arms and knew the sun never got this close before.
Eddie hummed under his breath, arms tightening around his waist and nose burying in the side of his neck.
"Love you, sweetheart," Eddie's words pressed into his skin, warm and wet like the morning rain.
Lacing their hands together, Steve sang softly.
Oh, l've been dreaming through my lonely past Now I just made it, I found you at last.
Eddie turned him around with gentle hands and gazed at him fondly. And Steve felt like his heart was too big for his chest to contain.
So come on, now let's try it, I love you, can't deny
'Cause it's true.
Eddie joined him and together, they finished the song.
I do, I do, I do, I do, I do.
He smiled into the kiss that Eddie drew him in.
Later, they'd have dinner together, would do the dishes while bickering about the movie they watched the other night, would write down the grocery list for tomorrow, would cuddle on the couch to watch some late-night shows, and would snuggle into bed after their refreshing shower.
Steve would exchange a goodnight kiss with his husband and fall asleep in those loving arms.
It was their life, full of love and happiness.
He was glad they had come this far, had survived the impossible, had pushed through hardships to build a home for themselves.
And he was glad they had found each other.
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forevermoreharrington · 19 hours
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steve likes hiding his face in your neck, he likes muttering things to you, kissing you and just stealing your warmth, he likes how sweet you smell, how sensitive your skin is there, he likes the way his hair tickles your jaw and you don't mind, he likes how you tilt your head to the side to give him better access, he likes the way you scratch his head like a god when he does it, he likes doing it after being apart all day and wrapping his arms around you, he likes doing it when your brushing your teeth in the morning, he likes waking up with his nose nuzzled there, he likes that it's kinda your thing, something you do with no one else <3
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bangaveragewhitewine · 21 hours
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Steve Harrington x Reader
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Airport Meet Cute - inspired by @loveshotzz Older Steve from Colors & All I really want is you
Clean Slate - A blind date with a familiar face might just be the clean slate you didn’t know you needed
Pinch Me - After your first date with a familiar face from home, waking up next to Steve feels like something out of a dream. (A follow up to Clean Slate) 18+
Wanna be with you everywhere - After moving into your first apartment together, Steve reminds you that the most important thing is right in front of you
At home with the Harringtons - Snapshots of life as Mrs Steve Harrington (dad!Steve x mom!reader) 18+
feel the magic - Seven days before Christmas, you find yourself stuck in a snowstorm in the middle of a city you're still finding your place in. You wait out the weather with a handsome stranger
Happy Birthday Steve - A short and sweet peek at a morning with your favourite birthday boy
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back to the main masterlist
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inklessletter · 17 hours
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I love you, it's ruining my life
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kingsteve · 9 hours
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Joe Keery as STEVE HARRINGTON STRANGER THINGS 4 4x01 "Chapter One: The Hellfire Club"
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plistommy · 20 hours
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The scary movie scene of the girl running away from ghostface, but then the sprinklers hit her and it goes to slow-mo while she looks all sexy but it’s Steve in tiny shorts instead and Eddie’s the one after him…
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hawkinsbnbg · 20 hours
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Steve had died in that interrogation room under Starcourt and now, he was stuck haunting Robin Buckley who might as well be his shortest heartbreak and long-lost twin.
The problem was she couldn't see or touch him.
No, she could hear him just fine, but physical contact was just impossible.
Steve, however, didn't care much so long as he had someone there to listen to his daily monologues. It was fun.
They bickered most of the time and while Robin always seemed sad that she couldn't hug him whenever he told her about his parents or how lonely he used to be before her, Steve was just happy with what he got.
Because even in death, he wasn't alone, and that was enough of a gift to him.
Then, the day his funeral was held, Steve was thankful that he had convinced Robin to attend considering it was how he reunited with the kids.
They all saw him.
A thing that Steve would never take for granted.
Robin didn't know what to do when they flocked around her and bombarded her with question after question, demanding to know why she was the one who got the privilege of being haunted by Steve.
"A privilege?" Robin burst into a laugh, giving them a ridiculous look.
"Of course, to think you've been haunted and actually having real conversations with a ghost every day is a revolutionary step into the spiritual science field," Dustin narrowed his eyes. "And I am very disappointed in you, Ms. Robin Buckley, for not telling me right away!"
"Just say you're jealous that Steve doesn't haunt you." Max rolled her eyes.
"You say it as if you're not jealous yourself!" Mike scowled at her.
"No, I'm not, you delusional nerd!" Max scowled back.
"Hey!"
"C'mon guys, don't fight," Lucas frowned and sighed in exasperation.
Noticing the odd looks from other people at the cemetery, Robin herded the kids into Steve's car that he had given her as a keepsake.
Once they were safely away from prying eyes, Robin clapped her hands to gather everyone's attention.
"Children!" She then continued under their curious gazes. "Steve-o here said he really appreciates that you munchkins care so much about him. But sadly, he can't leave my side. Like literally can't so if any of you want to see him, you can always seek me out whenever you see fit."
"Why are you saying all of this?" Mike squinted at her.
"Because Steve can't talk to us, obviously." Dustin responded haughtily, earning an eye roll from the other boy.
"Bingo!" Robin did a fist bump with Dustin.
Then, she held up a finger at them. "And before you ask, I can't see him. Or touch him."
She watched the kids look at the passenger seat before nodding at her.
It must be Steve who confirmed the truth, she thought.
As they went back to discussing Steve's incorporeal state, Robin had a feeling that she had unknowingly adopted a gaggle of troublesome ducklings who were going to give her grey hair very very soon.
"C'mon Robbie, it's a Halloween party," Steve begged. "Let's go have some fun! Don't your heart ache to watch your bestest friend rotting in sorrow while eating pumpkins?"
"First of all, I've never ever met anyone who uses 'heart' and 'ache' like that," Robin blew at her freshly painted nails.
"Well, now I'm your first. Didn't people always say special always come late?"
"I don't even want to correct you on all of that," Robin huffed quietly at Steve's goofy chuckle. "And no, Dingus, you don't eat pumpkins. Or if you do, I don't care."
"Please, Robbie, I just wanna have fun," Steve sighed dolefully. "It's been a long time ago since I went to a party." He sighed again and even sniffled a little.
When Robin groaned, a big grin stretched on his lips.
"Just this time." She narrowed her eyes at him, or precisely speaking, at the spot where she assumed he was sitting.
Sometimes, when she made a wrong guess, Steve would just move over to where her gaze stopped and continue talking her ears off.
"I promise you're gonna have so much fun, Robbie." Steve ruffled her hair even if his hand always passed right through her. It was still one of his hard-to-get-rid-of habits anyway.
By the time they arrived, the party was already full-blown and swarmed with people.
As Robin struggled her way through the crowd, Steve just walked beside her with barely any difficulties.
He bet she would curse him so much if she saw how comfortable he looked right now.
But then, his little moment of joy was cut short when he bumped into someone whose lips literally knocked against his.
As cliché as it might sound, he certainly felt the electricity running through his body from that single accidental kiss.
And belatedly, a realization dawned on him.
He had bumped right into someone.
He, a ghost, had bodily collided with a living human.
Shocked, Steve stepped back and was at a loss for what to do next.
Then, a shaky voice shook him out of his trance.
"Harrington?"
Staring into those scared Bambi's eyes, Steve clenched his jaw and forced himself to not panic.
"Munson."
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warheadache · 10 hours
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Donation request from @magniloquent-raven based on their fic A Symphothy Played Just For Me
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shares-a-vest · 9 hours
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Prompt: Ren Faire (Discord Drabble)
"Onwards! Ye val...iant st-steed!" Eddie slurs, all but shouting directly into Steve's buzzing ear.
He feels his sides squeezing in, Eddie's chunky chainlink belt buckle digging into his lower back as he wriggles around and hiccups in his ear.
"Can you stop squirming!" Steve sighs, righting himself when he spots the Beemer. He hikes up Eddie's legs, but it's no use – his partner still acting as a dead weight on his back as he adds, "And stop calling me a horse."
Eddie wriggles again, this time with enough force Steve feels himself veering sideways as he makes his way through the Ren Faire's front entrance. If his crown falls off, he'll have no way of picking it up. And god knows how he is going to manage to wrangle Eddie's drunken ass into the car with his cape and chains and leather.
He can feel Eddie's hot breath on his neck as he leans in to stage whisper, "I knows... Sorry. You's just so pretty... My Pretty Prince."
Steve stumbles over his feet as Eddie reaches up to straighten up his crown.
"There," Eddie continues, his voice all bright and cheery as he bites Steve on the ear.
"Ouch! Eddie!"
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