call me cherry

I’m not sure if you’re taking asks but I can’t help but to think about how Steve would react if Birdie got overwhelmed and had a meltdown. Like she had been having a rough week and she pulled away because she knew how it was gonna go but Steve and Robbie get worried and sad. Steve goes to her place and finds her either manic or depressed and she snaps at him but he’s calm through it and gets her out of it? Idk I just see Steve being so soft and sweet with her if she ever got that way ❤️

My Strange Lady ch. VIII

Thank you so much for your support my love! I am so happy you love them as much as I do. I tried to do your request justice though it is more Steve and Birdie centered, I hope you enjoy this chapter! This is my bittersweet valentines gift to you<3 Steve finally returns the favor.  ch.I ch.II ch.III ch.IV ch.V ch. VI ch. VII Pairing: Single dad! Steve Harrington x oddball! reader Word Count: 1.9K content warnings: angst, depression, grief of a family member

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Grief has a terrible way of lingering.

You’d known after your mother passed away that it would be something you’d never truly get over, but you'd naively hoped it would get easier.

Which it has in someways. It used to hit you out of nowhere, like in the grocery store. You'd be grabbing what you needed only to realize halfway through you were buying for one now. So you'd put back half of what you grabbed while sobbing in the middle of the produce isle.

Now, you don't find yourself breaking down out of the blue. Instead you feel it creeping up on you. That feeling hit you about four days ago. You were at Steve's, painting with Robbie and you realized half-way through that you weren't really there. You'd been on auto-pilot for the better half of an hour. Which is always how it starts, the things you know you love feel different. You feel different. So you'd told Steve and Robbie you weren't feeling great and went home.

When you got home you thought you should shower, and eat, and change, but you didn't. Instead you fed Teddy, took your pants off, and went to bed.

You slept through a handful of Steve's calls. You assumed it had been him calling at least, it's not like anyone else would. When you woke up you only bothered getting out of bed to feed Teddy, and to call Debby to let her know you'd be cashing in some of those vacation days you never use.

Then, you laid back down. Where you stayed until the next day. Then the next, and the next, which leads you to now. Unbathed, unfed, barely hydrated, and you can't seem to care. You can't even seem to cry. Which is getting increasingly frustrating by the minute because there is a heavy, hollow, tender ache within your chest that won't budge.

You're lucky Teddy doesn't seem to mind the smell of you rotting away as he lays on your chest. You get this disdainful feeling that Teddy deserves better. A friend that doesn't collapse under the weight of her own brain. You ponder this while stroking his soft head, jolting at the sound of a knock at the door. Teddy seems spooked as well, having not heard anything but the sound of your breathing for the past few days.

You know who's at the door. You'd managed to pick up at least one of Steve's calls. He'd fretted over you, in a way that made your stomach turn because someone like him has much better and more important things to worry about than a girlfriend who can't get herself out of bed. You'd urged him halfheartedly to not come over. Told him you were fine, just needed some rest. Lied that you didn't want to get him or Robbie sick. Though you know depression isn't contagious, but you feel contagious. You don't want to tarnish their beautiful, bright bubble with your terrible, disgusting fog.

So you let him knock. You hope he'll assume you aren't home and leave. You ignore his soft pleas for you to open the door, for a moment you think you might finally cry. There's something in the tenderness behind his voice that almost snaps you out of it.

Let him come in. Ask him to take care of you. Beg him to share his strength with you.

Before you can think about it any further you hear shuffling, and the sound of a key unlocking the door. It seems that in your haze you'd forgotten you told him where you kept your spare key. Now you wish you would have listened to him when he told you it was unsafe to keep a key to your apartment hidden under the bowl you leave for strays.

Because this feels unsafe.

The thought of Steve seeing you like this. The feeling of control slipping through your fingertips, it's terrifying. You can hear him calling out for you softly, walking towards your bedroom and you jolt up in your bed ready to lock the door.

However, in the state you're in, the sudden movement makes you lightheaded and he makes it through your door before you can stop it.

"Honey?"

It's ironic, him calling you something so sweet when you feel anything but.

"What are you doing here Steve?"

Your voice is hoarse, it sound unfamiliar to you from the lack of use. Steve retreats back into himself slightly at your tone, and it makes you feel worse.

Terrible, awful, wretched woman.

"I was worried about you, haven't seen you in days I just wanted to come make sure you were okay."

He's holding a Tupperware full of soup, and some Vaporub.

"I told you I was fine, please leave."

One look at the shirt he saw you wearing four days ago. Wrinkled, and sweaty. The state of your room and Teddy scurrying around in your bed tells Steve everything he needs to know.

He remembers that feeling after Amanda left. The way he would only get up to care for Robbie, he remembers how he had help. People to get him in the shower, get him fed, and up. He feels stupid for not coming sooner.

"You're not sick, are you honey?"

You pull your sheets up to your chest. "Don't call me that."

He sets his things on the dresser before approaching you slowly.

"Why didn't you say anything? I would have come sooner. You don't have to feel embarrassed about this honey it happens."

You suddenly jump out of your bed, and towards a corner in your room when Steve gets too close. Suddenly, the entirety of this whole episode bursts out of you before you can try to shove it down.

"Steve stop!"

He takes a step back, offering his hands up in surrender. Soft brown eyes shining with concern.

"I'm fine! Okay? I'm fine-this is my mess I can take care of it! I can take care of myself-I'm supposed to take care of it! It's my job, it...it's mine..."

Your voice trails off into a pathetic whimper as you start to collapse in on yourself. Your back finds the wall as you slide down onto the floor, bringing your knees up as if to shield yourself from this.

This time, when Steve approaches you, you don't run, or push him away. You let him bring you into his chest, hands cradling your shoulders and greasy hair. Sobs start to rip through you almost violently, you can hear Teddy's worried squeaks from the bed.

You murmur apologies through your tears. Steve shushes you softly, pressing soft kisses onto your hairline. "I'm sorry-'m'so sorry I don't know why-I don't-"

He gently pushes your head back to look you in your guilt ridden eyes. "You don't have to apologize, never for this yeah?"

You nod, though you don't really agree with him in this moment. You look down at his shirt, now covered in tears and snot.

"I got you all gross...m'gross."

He shrugs, smiling softly down at you. "I've dealt with worse."

Then, while wiping tears and snot from your face Steve manages to coax you into a bath.

Because Steve knows you. He knows how you hate eating when you aren't clean. How you won't even wear new pajamas to bed unless you've washed your sheets, how you can't sleep well when you know you've left dishes in the sink. So he runs you a bath, with the nice soaps you hide away for special occasions. He puts your sheets in the wash, tidies your room, and your kitchen. When you ask him to bring Teddy to you in the tub he complies, and doesn't say anything when the rodent bites him again.

Then, he scrubs the grime away from your skin. With hands much to kind considering the way you yelled at him. He finally speaks up while he lathers soap into your hair.

"Has this happened before?"

You lean into his strong hands, while holding Teddy close to your chest. "Things get bad sometimes. I think it's always been this way...but it got worse after my mom died."

He hums while rinsing the soap out of your hair. "Will you tell me next time? I want to be here for you, the way you're there for me. Let me do that for you."

You start crying again. Not like before, softer now. Grateful. So you nod while he finishes taking care of you. You can't seem to stop your tears the rest of the night. Not when he dries you and Teddy off. Not when he cradles the rodent towards his chest before gently placing him in his cage. Or when he gets you dressed into fresh underwear and pajamas. Nor when he heats up the soup he brought for you. You finally find yourself on the couch, legs over his own.

Your spoon is clinking against the bowl as you finish your meal. You look up at Steve who has sat patiently by you, running his hand up and down your leg. Not seeming to mind its prickly nature. You find yourself in awe at this man. With broad, strong shoulders. A strong jaw, strong hands, and yet he is the most gentle person you've ever met.

"I'm sorry Steve."

He shakes his head at you. "You don't have to be sorry, I told you that."

You shake your head and whimper pitifully, placing your now empty bowl on the coffee table. "I was so mean-don't wanna be mean to you."

He lets out a strange sound. A mix between a gasp and a laugh, "honey...if that's you being mean I'm happy to deal with it for the rest of my life."

You furrow your brows, wiping tears from your face. Eyes feeling raw, and tired. "Why?"

His hand tightens up around your knee. He looks at you so earnestly it hurts. He says words he hasn't spoken out loud in a very, very long time. "Because I love you Birdie."

You crumble even more now. Dragging yourself over to him. Wrapping your arms around him and burying your face into his neck. "love you-I love you too."

Though your confession is muffled against his skin, he knows what you're saying. He wraps his arms around you then too, and mumbles into your clean hair. "I know-I know you do baby, don't gotta tell me to know."

When you finally pull away, he brushes your hair back. Kisses away your tears, planting kisses all around your face before landing a soft one on your chapped lips. "You want a back rub?"

"What about Robbie?"

He shrugs, "he's spending the night with Hopper and Joyce. He's alright. I'd like to take care of you right now."

And because you can't find any more reasons to say no, you lay across his lap. Head on his thighs while he rubs out knots you hadn't even notice had formed from your back.

You mumble while he does, already half asleep. Mumbles of "thas'nice" and "love you's" spill from your lips as you dose off.

When you wake up the next day, you're in bed with fresh sheets, and a warm tender man beside you. While you still don't feel like your usual self, you do feel better, and you thank your mom. Because you can't think of anyone else who would love you so much to send Steve into your life.

Except for maybe Steve himself.

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Tag List:

Three times you take care of Steve, and one time he takes care of you Paring: Steve Harrington x reader, Platonic!Eddie Munson x reader Word Count: 3.4K  content warnings: angst, happy-ish ending, yearning, sooooooooo much yearning, violence, blood, descriptions of injuries, character death

I. Hargrove

It's comical how this all started as a desperate attempt to get some extra cash. This babysitting gig seemed like a good option. Your mom’s income cuts it short and unfortunately wishful thinking doesn’t pay the bills.

Anyone in their right mind would have gotten the hell out of dodge the second they found out the kid they were supposed to be babysitting was hiding an inter-dimensional creature in his cellar. However, the thought of leaving a group of kids to fend for themselves against whatever nightmare they're up against made your stomach turn.

Apparently you weren't the only one.

You’re pretty sure Steve Harrington didn’t even know you existed before your chance encounter at the Wheeler residence. Steve looked nothing like you'd imagined he would up close. He was frazzled, hair mussed from running his hands through it. The epitome of a man ready to grovel. News of his and Nancy's lovers quarrel spread quickly, as everything does in Hawkins. You'd heard it from Eddie, who had been invited to Tina's party solely to provide some 'party favors.' He'd invited you to join him, but you'd been busy trying to fix the sink before your mom got home from her shift. He'd scolded you for not asking Wayne for help, but you'd done enough of that already. You could take care of it yourself. You can take care of yourself.

You and Steve don’t exist in the same social circle, or the same tax bracket. So you try not to feel too bad about having made a less than favorable assumption towards him. To you, Steve was a walking cliche. An entitled, privileged, too-handsome-for-his-own-good jock.

It never crossed your mind that Steve was hiding a real human being under all that hairspray.

The look that overcame Max's face at the sound of Billy's arrival had told you everything you needed to know. You weren't scared of Billy, until you were. There was something truly...sick, about the way he'd charged towards Lucas. Fueled by the kind of hatred that runs deep in someones bones. A hatred you were all too familiar with. You remember wondering where Steve was, for a second you’d assumed he'd left. Saving himself the trouble of an altercation. He hadn't even wanted to stay behind in the first place.

You'd stepped in front of Lucas, torn Billy's hands from the boys coat. It wasn't until Billy had you by the hair, with an unyielding grip that made your head ache, that you knew you had wildly underestimated the golden boy.

As if he'd appeared out of thin air, Steve had thrown a heavy punch at Billy. Turning the entire home into a goddamn boxing ring. Steve may be good with a bat but he's not a great fighter. At least not when it comes to defending himself. He was down on the ground, taking hit after hit and you weren't sure he was even conscious. Through a rush of adrenaline you found yourself on Billy's back. Pulling at clothes, hair, skin anything you could get your hands on. One glance at Steve's bloody face, and the sound of flesh meeting flesh shook you long enough for Billy to throw back an elbow and shove you into the coffee table.

Shame washes over you at the memory, because you don't know what would have happened if Max hadn't intervened. A child, one that you were supposed to protect saved both of your asses.

The same shame is what brought you into Steve Harrington's bathroom.

Your hands shake from exhaustion, but they're gentle nonetheless as they clean his wounds. You whisper soft apologies every time he hisses, and he responds with soft reassurances.

In between cotton pads and antiseptic he finds his voice, rough and strained as it may be.

"You don't have to do this, seriously I can just...handle it myself."

You shake your head as you place the last butterfly stitch above his eyebrow, replacing the colorful bandage it had before.

"I feel guilty."

His eyebrows scrunch together as best they can given the condition he's in.

"Why? You're not the one who knocked my teeth in."

You let out a soft laugh. Steve pretends he doesn't recognize the feeling it stirs up within him.

"No it's not- I mean yes, I feel bad that you got knocked out, your teeth are fine by the way. I just...I think...I really misjudged you Steve, and I think this is my fucked up version of an apology for that."

He shrugs. "I doubt you were wrong. I haven't really been a good friend, or boyfriend...or person I guess."

You lean against the bathroom counter, and you convince yourself that Steve needs someone to talk to, and that's why you ask.

"What happened with Nancy?"

Steve folds into himself, almost like he's trying to hide. You can't help but notice how young he looks in this moment.

"I think...I didn't handle everything that happened the right way, and everything just blew up. Then she got drunk and we got into a fight and she told me she doesn't love me- ."

"What?"

He looks up from the ground at you. You look...not mad but, it's a look he can't quite place.

"Well, no-she didn't exactly say that but she didn't...not...say it."

Despite it all, he feels the need to defend Nancy. "Look it's not her fault I mean she was right. I was being totally selfish and-"

"Steve, you're seventeen. No one knows how to love someone the right way at seventeen. There's retired couples that still haven't figured it out. Just because you made some mistakes doesn't mean you deserved to feel unloved."

Steve had spent a long time trying to figure out how to redeem himself. Trying to right his wrongs. He hadn't really thought about what he deserves because he wasn't sure he deserved anything.

"But I made mistakes, and I feel terrible about that."

"And you're taking accountability for them. That's more than most people do Steve."

In the dim light of his bathroom, for the first time ever, that feels like enough for Steve.

II. Starcourt

It was the summer of '85, Starcourt Mall had just opened up. You'd decided to take a gap year, working at the Radio Shack to save up for community college. The best part, you'd get to spend the entire summer sharing your lunch break with the most unlikely friend you could have made.

Which was amazing! Until you realized it's not normal to feel your blood run hot every time your friend tries to flirt with any girl that walks through the door. You'd thought trying to compartmentalize your very new and very complicated feelings for Steve would be the worst of your problems this summer.

Except now you're being dragged around a secret Russian base bloody, bruised, and nearly unconscious. The worst part about this whole ordeal isn't that you can't tell if your ribs are broken or bruised, or that you've been tasting blood for the better half of an hour now. It's that from the moment he was dragged away from you, you couldn't stop worrying about Steve. You'd felt relief for a split second when you were dragged into a room with him and Robin. Grateful that he was alive, but then you caught a glimpse of the state they'd left him in.

Your worry only increased as the guards tied you up next to them, because for some reason they couldn't stop laughing. You'd waited until the guards left to say anything.

"Steve? Steve are you okay-what did they do to you?"

Your muscles feel tight as you try to turn your head to look at him. From the corner of your eye you see a version of Steve you didn't want to see again. Beaten and bloody, a stark contrast from the bright smile he's wearing for some extremely odd reason.

"Thank god you're here! He wouldn't shut up about you." Robin's voice is hoarse but she seems alright, physically at least. You desperately hope they don't come back for her next. You've grown fond of her over the summer. You feel an enormous amount of guilt that she got dragged into this mess.

"They took her away-I hate when she's away-everything is so much better when she's here."

They're slurring their words and you start to panic at the realization.

"Steve. Steve! What did they give you?"

They giggle beside you, talking over each other.

"Dunno it was blue!"

"I think we're high!”

You spend way too long trying to get a single answer out of them. Coming up short, it dawns on you that if the guards come back to give you whatever they gave Steve and Robin, none of you have any shot of making it out of here alive.

Thankfully for you, the next people to walk through the doors are Dustin and Erica. For the second time in your life, the kids you're supposed to protect come to your rescue.

You can't even bring yourself to respond to a single one of Dustin's questions because the second he unties you, you're rushing over to Steve. Your body aches and you can barely breathe but you kneel in front of him making quick work of his ties. You can't help but reach up to his face while you do so.

"Jesus what did they do to you."

Steve leans towards your touch. Nuzzling you like a clingy puppy. "Mmm-missed you-woah! You look...you don't look good."

You sigh, using every fiber of your being to stand up and bring him with you. Putting his arm around your shoulder, ready to haul him out of here while the kids grab Robin.

"I'm fine Steve, let's just get out of here please."

Hours later, when the mall has burned down and you're being guided over to an ambulance, you pretend you don't hurt so bad so that Steve can be checked out first.

You pretend that it doesn't mean anything. That the emotion you're swallowing down as a paramedic cleans his wounds is exhaustion and not the crippling realization that you could have lost him. You do this because you aren't sure you want to face the fact that you wouldn't know what to do with yourself if it happened.

You push it down because you and Steve becoming friends was a fluke, a cruel trick of nature. So how could you possibly become more.

III. Lover's Lake

You don't know what the hell came over you. You're a fucking awful swimmer. Despite your efforts to get over this thing you have for Steve, it seems as though it's all been in vain because as soon as he was dragged back under water you dove right in after him.

Your first mistake was applying to Family Video with him and Robin. Your second one was accepting the job offer. You actually liked the job, it was the constant reminder that Steve was willing to take anyone but you out on a date that sucked. You'd told yourself that you would take a step back, give yourself some space and stop giving so much of yourself over to him.

You'd started spending more time with Eddie again, and declined invitations to hang out with Steve. Which felt like a breath of fresh air, Eddie made things easy. He always did. It's rare to find someone who will love you unconditionally, who will let you fall off the face of the earth for a month or two and welcome you back with open arms. You think that Eddie always knew something was going on, you'd just hoped he'd never find out what it was. You hate that you couldn't do anything to shield him from this nightmare. You hate that you heard him beg you not to jump into the water, but you don't hate that you ignored him.

Love has a cruel way of making you do things. As you struggle to swim faster and hold your breath long enough to reach the gate, you realize that it must be love.

Because only love makes you this crazy.

You swear you black out, your mind running at a million miles a minute.

Gasp for air

Breathe

Get to Steve

Breathe

Grab a paddle

Breathe

Get to Steve

Steve

Steve

Steve

When you've all escaped the rabid bats you don't think twice about the chunk missing from your shoulder. How can you when Steve is practically bleeding out. You see parts of him you never wanted to, open wounds. Flesh and muscle torn, and bloody, and wrong. So wrong.

"Oh god Steve."

Your voice is thick as you fall to your knees in front of him. Whipping around with a desperate look on your face trying to find anything to help him. Your eyes fall to Nancy. You extend your shaky hand. "Nancy, your shirt- please your shirt!"

She takes a second to process what you're asking of her, before snapping out of it and tearing a good amount of her shirt off to pass over to you.

You grab onto it, quickly turning to Steve, grabbing onto any part of him that isn't bleeding. Like you're trying to remind yourself that he's alive.

"okay-okay I'm gonna wrap this around you, you're okay-you're going to be okay."

You wrap the cloth around his waist harshly, trying to keep as much pressure on his wounds hoping you can just stop the bleeding.

You mumble wet apology's at him while you tie a knot. Everyone pretends they can't see the sob you're holding back. Except for Steve, who places a weak hand on your shoulder.

"It's okay, I'm okay. Thank you."

You nod, looking up at him. He tries not to collapse at the sight of your eyes. The ones holding back tears and an enormous amount of...something.

The same something he's been seeing in your eyes since he met you. The something he can't place until Eddie lingers behind with him while they try to find a way out of the upside down.

"You know she's a terrible swimmer right?"

Steve gives the metalhead a confused look, which seems to frustrate Eddie.

"Jesus you really are a lost cause. I have known that girl for years, I know her better than anyone and I know that she's a terrible swimmer. So why do you think she'd risk her life trying to save yours?"

Steve looks ahead at you walking alongside Nancy and Robin. A slight tremble still overtaking your body.

"I mean-we're friends."

Eddie stops Steve and grabs onto his shoulder.

"She was the first one in the water. She didn't waste a single second. I don't know what's going on between you two but if I were you I would figure it out. Because that, wasn't just a friendly favor. It was an act of desperation."

I. Redemption

Steve thinks about that night in the upside down a lot. He thinks about that entire week a lot, probably more than he'd like to. He knows he's not the sharpest tool in the shed but despite what everyone might think he isn't stupid. He's known for a while that you and him weren't just friends.

Him and Robin are friends, and he loves her, but you and Steve? There's something that's been brewing between the two of you from the moment you got into his Beemer all those years ago. A heady, tender, constant, overwhelming feeling that's been growing for years. No matter how hard he tried to ignore it.

After that conversation with Eddie he thought he should tell you. After his conversation with Robin, when she expressed her fears about their luck running out he realized he needed to tell you. Tell you that he's been falling in love with you from the moment he felt the gentle pressure of your fingers through a cotton pad. That he's been searching for anyone to take his mind off of you because he was too scared you'd realize he wasn't someone you could love. That it tore him apart when you started pulling away but he couldn't bring himself to tell you the truth, to beg you to come back. That you've spent the last couple of years healing him from any hurt he's ever felt. That he wants you to know all of the shameful, embarrassing parts of him. His dream of six kids and a winnebago and you.

He was going to tell you.

But then your luck ran out.

The ground split open.

Max fell into a coma.

Eddie died.

The memory of you seeing your best friend’s body in the distance haunts him. The way you softly called out to him, the way you struggled against Steve’s arms as you tried to rip yourself out of his hold. How you collapsed to your knees, crawling over to Eddie. The boy you met when you and your mother first moved into the trailer park. The first real friend you made, who played in mud piles with you was lying cold, bloody and still at your knees. You'd sobbed and screamed so hard your voice gave out. Begging and pleading to anyone that would listen to help you. To help Eddie. He swore he could have broken your fingers trying to get you to let go of him. Begging him to help you carry Eddie's body out.

"No-nonono. Pl-Please Steve! I can't- I can't leave him here we have to get him out he's okay-he has to be okay! Please, help me!"

You'd spent a long time taking care of Steve. Looking after him, licking his wounds so he wouldn't have to. Steve knew that it was his turn.

So he didn't tell you anything.

Instead he let you smack your fists against his chest, cursing at him for dragging you out of that hell hole. For leaving your best friend behind.

He took you home, and got you in the shower. He left food on your nightstand, and replaced it when it went cold and untouched. He sat with your mother while she fretted about you. Fixed the sink when it broke again. Waited for you for weeks until you were ready to leave the house.

He was patient.

You hid yourself away from everyone, in a way. You eventually started showing up to crawls but it was different. You were hollow. You didn't snap out of it until Holly went missing.

You were more alive than you had been in months but it wasn't the same life that Steve knew. You were fueled by rage, vengeance, grief.

Everything moved so fast he didn't even get a chance to talk to you about it.

Then he thought he'd never get a chance to talk to you about anything anymore.

He's never been afraid of heights. For a moment the feeling of his body dangling in the air felt peaceful, until he realized his fingers were slipping and he would never see you again.

He hadn't seen you smile in months, and he felt his stomach drop at the realization he'd never see it again.

The moment his fingers finally left the cool metal they were clinging onto, all Steve could hear or think about was the sound of your voice.

Devastated, guttural, hoarse, the same way it had sounded when you found Dustin cradling Eddie's body all those months ago.

He thinks he heard you scream his name, but he also thinks he would have convinced himself of that just to hear it one last time.

Then, in a wonderful, gracious, forgiving, trick of fate, Steve stops falling. All of a sudden he feels a strong grip around his wrist, and he looks up to see Jonathan pulling him up. He's back on solid ground in an instant and before he can catch his breath he feels your weight crash against him. Clinging to his clothes and his hair desperately. You have one hand grasping at Jonathan while you gasp out 'thank you's' in between your sobs.

Steve can't speak, he's scared he'll start sobbing with you the second he opens his mouth so he clings onto you with the same desperation. He presses wet kisses along your hairline and your cheeks, thankful to have your gentle hands bruise his skin.

Neither of you have ever said it was love, but in this moment you realize you never needed to. Instead of talking, you revel in the feeling of each other, warm, alive and breathing.

When the war is over, and the dust has cleared, Steve takes you home. You help each other out of your torn and dirty clothes. You step into the shower and wash the blood, sweat and grime off each other. With slow hands and lingering gazes. You lay in bed and finally get a moment to just be there, you press your head against his chest just to listen to the sound of his heart beating. Keeping him alive and here with you.

You don't say it in that moment. But the way you cling to each others fresh damp skin through your grief and exhaustion. You know its love, and you know both of you are going to be there when you wake up.

And you'll clean each others wounds then.

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Reminded me of teddy

oh my god that’s so fucking adorable.

For Christmas, Steve might finally share his secret with everybody.  ch.I ch.II ch.III ch.IV ch.V ch. VI Pairing: Single dad! Steve Harrington x oddball! reader Word Count: 2.3K

It’s winter and for the first time in a long time, the snow and the chill that comes with it isn’t daunting for Steve.

Christmas was always a lonely holiday in the Harrington home. Even when he was Robbie’s age, when his parents felt obligated to come home. His mom would stuff presents under the tree to find some semblance of a happy family around it. His dad would get her some expensive bracelet to make up for one of his affairs that she definitely knew about. They would buy Steve the hottest toys on the market and tell him he should be grateful, they never did keep up with the Santa facade. They didn’t have the time.

It didn’t matter that Steve had written him a wish list. Where all he asked for was an actual family dinner where he could peak around the corner and see his parents dancing in the kitchen, not on opposite ends of it refusing to speak. Unless it was passive aggressive remarks.

His parents never looked at his lists anyways.

When he met everyone, the kids. Robin. Christmas started making more sense to Steve. Robin was a total holiday junkie. She took it way too seriously and Steve couldn't help but get excited with her. Christmas felt much more jolly when he was surrounded by people who really cared about him. Who paid enough attention to him to know that he wanted a WHAM! record even though he wouldn’t admit it. Robin gave Steve his first real Christmas.

When Robbie was born, Steve knew that he wouldn’t realistically remember his first Christmas. But Steve would, and Steve didn’t want Robbie to feel the lonely gap his mother had left behind. So he invited everyone to his place to celebrate. Then he never stopped and it became a yearly tradition. One he’s never changed, until now.

This year, Steve invited you over on Christmas Eve. He usually saved those for Robbie and him only. They would make some cookies, watch a movie, and then Steve would try to get an overly excited child into bed so he could stage Santa’s walk through and set his presents under the tree.

That was before you. Before he had someone who not only cared about Robbie but cared about him. Someone who has been so patient with him. Who hadn’t thought twice about Steve wanting to wait to tell Robbie that they were more than friends. So much more.

So this Christmas Eve his hands are covered in cookie dough and he’s fighting every urge to wipe the flour off your forehead. All while you try getting dough out from between his son’s fingers with a damp napkin.

“S’sticky!”

Your laugh rings through the kitchen like goddamn church bells.

“It is! Don’t get any in your hair it’s too pretty to mess up.”

Robbie smiles up at you shyly, “it’s like my dad’s.”

You reach up to his head with your clean pinky and brush back a loose wave. “Yeah it is. Pretty boys.”

You turn around to throw the napkin you had been using in the trash when Robbie leans in to whisper to Steve. “Dad, she called us pretty!”

He chuckles, “She sure did buddy.”

Robbie, ever so conscious of his still sticky fingers elbows Steve causing him to yelp softly catching your attention for a second.

You’re looking over your shoulder, “you okay?”

Steve nods quickly as you turn back to the sink, then whispers.

“What was that?”

Robbie looks up at him the way Dustin does sometimes. Like he’s the most clueless guy on earth and it hurts him for a second until Robbie clarifies himself.

“That means she thinks you’re pretty. She likes you!”

Steve spares a look in your direction, and you. Ever so observant are already looking over your shoulder. Quickly hiding your smile and turning back to the sink.

“That’d be something wouldn’t it?”

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The night goes as follows.

The cookies are baked.

Steve sneaks kisses in while Robbie goes to the bathroom.

You all sit on the couch to watch a Christmas movie Steve doesn’t really pay attention to. He’s too busy watching the way you and Robbie whisper thoughts about it while he cuddles into your side. He listens to you try to logically explain the mechanics of Santa's process and smiles to himself when you dilute it down to magic.

When Steve finally gets Robbie into bed he asks “is Miss Birdie coming back tomorrow?”

While he tucks his kid in he reassures him, “of course she will buddy she wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

And Steve really believes that.

When he meets you back in the living room he finds you looking out the window, where it’s still snowing. The way it has been for the past few hours. He knows you well enough to know that you’ll find some reason to still be able to drive through it.

“You should probably just stay here.”

“It’s not that bad, I can just drive slow.”

“It’s bad enough, can’t have my girl putting herself at risk just to sleep in a bed that isn’t half as big as mine.”

“What about Robbie?”

“We’re waking up early anyways, he won’t know whether you stayed the night or came back in the morning.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m practically finding any excuse to be able to spend the rest of Christmas Eve with you.”

You smile up at him, and in a soft, quiet voice ask, “can I get a kiss please?” And Steve just melts.

He mumbles to himself while he gathers your face in his hands. “What kind of man am I making my sweet, gorgeous, freakishly smart girlfriend ask for a kiss.”

Your giggles mix into his mumbles. Steve is about to drag you into his room tin hopes of getting you into one of his own shirts to wear to bed when he hears a soft voice from behind.

“Dad?”

The two of you pull away. Neither of you dare to move, some childish hope within you both that if you stay still he won’t see you, but Steve isn’t a child. He’s a father, and right now he has to try to be a good one.

He turns around to see Robbie with a very surprised look on his face. “I was thirsty…”

Steve starts walking towards him, about to come up with some excuse to give as to why he was kissing the strange librarian. “Hey buddy! We were just-“

Somewhere between 'she needed mouth to mouth' and 'there was a spider on her lip' Steve turns his head back towards you and he blanks.

You have this, horrible look on your face. You look scared. Like you’d just ruined Christmas and in that moment Steve didn’t just feel like a father. He felt like a man, who loved a woman too much to keep hiding it. He hated the thought of you thinking people knowing would be a bad thing. So he decided to show you it isn't.

“We were just kissing.”

You go big eyed at his admittance.

Robbie, thank god, doesn’t look upset. Just confused, so naturally he asks “why?”

Steve gestures over to the couch, inviting both Robbie and you to sit down. When you go to sit next to Robbie Steve grabs your hand, and he doesn’t let it go, guiding you down next to him.

“Robbie we want to talk to you about something but it’s sort of a grown up thing is that okay?”

The boy nods. So Steve continues, “if you have big feelings about it you’re gonna let me know?”

Robbie nods again, and your stomach turns because he has never. Ever. Been this quiet.

Steve takes a small breath and looks over at you. “Miss Birdie and I are friends you know that, but somewhere along the way we started liking each other as more than friends.”

Robbie nods along, “...like Hop Hop and miss Joyce?”

Steve nods again smiling. “Yeah buddy like them. I know this is a big change and it can be scary-“

Robbie shakes his head, “Miss Birdie isn’t scary.”

You can’t help the moisture that builds up behind your eyes. “You aren’t scary to me either Robbie. Neither is your dad.”

Robbie shifts on the couch like he wants to say something, but he’s overcome with some shyness.

Steve gently nudges him. “What is it buddy, you can tell us it’s ok.”

“So…is Miss Birdie like…my mom. Since you’re my dad.”

Somehow the air gets sucked out of the space. Steve can’t figure out what to say without completely screwing up. He honestly isn't ready to tell you that he does see that kind of future with you. That it's overcome his dreams. He doesn't want to force Robbie to call you something he isn't ready to either, but he doesn't want you to think that he's against it and-

“I can be whatever you want Robbie. I can still be Miss Birdie, or a friend. Whatever you want I just….I would also really like to be with your dad the way Hop Hop and Joyce are if that’s okay?”

And Steve realizes that he doesn't have to make that call for anyone. You'll both get there on your own one day.

Robbie looks between you both. While he’s only six he can see something in his dad he’s never seen before. One day he’ll have the words to name it, but for now all he can do is smile and nod.

“You said he was pretty.”

You laugh and nod. “I did say that. Are you still thirsty?”

Robbie nods and takes your hand when you get up to get him a glass of water.

When he’s ready to go back to bed he turns around and asks “can both of you tuck me in this time?”

You look at Steve who’s looking at you and without a second thought the two of you give enthusiastic nods. So you walk him to his room. Tuck him back in, and because you simply can’t help yourself you give the sole of his sock covered foot a little peck just to hear him laugh.

Afterwards you and Steve move in silence. Taking bites out of the cookies left out for Santa. Tucking away presents and leaving behind crumbs. You go as far as to track snow in with Steve's boots. When you’re done, Steve guides you to his room and when he closes the door he turns to look at you speaking softly.

“That went good. Right? That was fine?”

You nod, a little out of it. “I think so…”

You wait a second, and Steve can tell you have something more to say so he gives you the space to.

“I have no idea what I’m doing here.” It comes out of you in one breath. Like you’ve been holding it in for ages.

And though it kills Steve to think that maybe he misunderstood the situation, he gives you what you’ve always given him. Understanding.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, you said so yourself-“

“No I do want this, and I adore Robbie. I- I adore you but I can’t deny the fact that I’m..odd. My best friend is a rat, I’m horrible with social cues sometimes, and I think I fill myself up with as much information as possible because I don’t think I really understand how to live life. But I…I feel like I understand you. I feel like I understand Robbie and I don’t want to mess this up Steve.”

He notices the way you're shivering.

“You done?”

You nod. Slightly confused by his reaction, expecting something more. He walks towards you and rubs his hands up and down your arms before leaning his forehead down to meet yours and whispering.

“I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. I never have. Not with Robbie. Not with you. All I know is that I love it all too much to fuck it up on purpose. I just hope that if it happens accidentally I’ll be forgiven.”

You nod against him, "I'll do the same then."

Neither of you address the fact that you’re somehow included in the ‘all’ that he loves.

You know it’s there though. In the way he helps you into a pair of his old sweatpants and a sleep shirt. In the way you tuck his hair behind his ear when he lays down next to you.

In the way Steve sleeps better than he has in years because his bed isn’t empty. Even when your cold feet rub against his.

It’s in the air the next morning when you both wake up late. To Robbie nudging you both letting you know that everyone is waiting in the living room. When you walk out, soft with sleep and still in his clothes.

No one says anything. Instead they interchange knowing looks and Eddie slips Dustin a $20.

Robbie opens his gifts, Steve sits with a trash bag ready to collect the wrapping. While everyone is exchanging their own presents you slip yours onto his lap. Wrapped in old newspapers and tied with tweed and a flower.

Steve gently opens it and sets it aside, he thinks he'll frame it. Inside, is a small stack of hand drawn sketches of him and Robbie, a hand written apology note signed 'Teddy', and a hand knit sweater with his initials on the sleeve, and a Robin right where his heart would be.

There's a tenderness that spreads throughout the room when Steve pulls you in for a soft kiss, without hiding. Followed by a soft whisper only for you. “Thank you. I love it.”

The way you reach up and trace the lines of his smile makes him feel like you love him too.

Is it late? Yes.

Steve freaks out and not just because it's Halloween.  ch I ch.II ch.III ch. IV ch.V Paring: Single dad!Steve Harrington x oddball!reader  Word Count: 1.6K  Note: This is a Halloween special. Also Stancy mention, Nancy Wheeler they could never make me hate you.

All throughout Steve's neighborhood, kids and their parents are gathering their pillowcases and heading out the door. Whines can be heard from kids refusing to put jackets on to fight the October chill. Amongst them is a woman in high waisted black leggings, a matching turtle neck and what seems to be bat wings. She flaps them up and down watching the wind catch them, her ears kept warm by the bat like head piece she wears.

Steve knows he must look extremely suspicious waiting by the window like a lunatic. However, everyone seems too caught up with their trick or treat preparations to notice him. Most of the kids are just here to see Robbie and the adults off. Having their own 'age appropriate' plans to attend to. It reminds Steve that he probably shouldn't be calling them 'kids' anymore. He knows that everyone is growing up and changing. Their plans don't always involve each other but he's so thankful they always make time for just a moment with the family. He knows it means the world to Robbie, and selfishly to himself.

He's buzzing with excitement to have you here too. He's been floating around like some love sick fool ever since your first date. While he's sure people have noticed something, he hasn't told anyone that you guys are actually seeing each other in a more than friendly way. Hopper knows, but that's just because Steve needs a babysitter to get you alone and Hopper, unlike Robin, can keep a secret.

Not that he wants it to be a secret! He just needs to figure out when and how to tell Robbie. So his goal for the night is to act like he's not lighting on fire at the sight of you in those leggings. He immediately fails when he opens the door to greet you and his hand slips a little too low when he hugs you hello.

He leans close to your ear to whisper "you look adorable." He feels your fingers curl around his own costume as you hide your face further into his shoulder.

"We're kind of matching" you mumble. Steve pulls away and looks down at his Batman costume, without the helmet, because of his hair. Obviously. "We are aren't we?"

You both stand there grinning like idiots until Hopper speaks up. "Are you gonna let her in or just stare at her all night?"

Steve hangs his head and guides you into his home. "Thank you Hopper." The older man just gives him a smug look.

Robin tilts her head at you. "Are you supposed to be Batman's girlfriend?"

Robbie, in his adorable Robin costume cape and all, corrects her as he walks over to give you a hug. "Batman's girlfriend is Catwoman, Miss Birdie is just a bat." You wrap your bat wings around his shoulders, "It's true I'm just a bat." You give Robin a warm smile, just so she doesn't feel awkward about her confusion. Though, she's not technically wrong. You are this Batman's girlfriend.

Robbie peaks his head through your wings to look up at you. "If I'm not too big for this costume next time you should be Catwoman and-and we can all match!"

You nod at him softly, "I like that idea."

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Steve eventually gets everyone out the door. The younger kids go their own way while the rest of you start walking down the sidewalk to begin trick or treating. Robbie is elated, he's got everyones attention on him since none of you are really trick or treating for yourselves. He's holding onto Hopper and Joyce's hands as they swing him around.

You stay back with Steve and Robin, sharing old halloween memories.

"Steve had the absolute worst luck on Halloween up until Robbie was born I swear!"

He shrugs Robin off, "C'mon it was't that bad."

The girl almost chokes on air. "Wasn't that bad? You got dumped by Nancy one year, some kid crashed his bike into you car another, there was that time Amanda totally flipped out on you because you gave Nancy and Jonathan a ride-"

"Okay! Okay it was bad I think she gets the point."

"Nancy dumped you?"

While Robin may not know that you and Steve are together. She knows him well enough to realize he's harboring some crazy deep feelings for you. She also knows she probably shouldn't have mentioned the fact that he used to date someone he's still close friends with. Considering how that blew up in his face before.

Steve is just about to open his mouth to smooth this over in some way, but Robbie skips over and grabs onto your wings before he gets a chance to speak.

"Miss Birdie, can you come with me?"

You look down at him and grab his hand. "Of course! Are the decorations a little scary?" The boy nods his head shyly and starts dragging you over to the house's front porch while Steve's shoulders sag in defeat.

He really does have shitty luck on Halloween.

Robin tries to apologize but Steve doesn't really hear her. All he can do is watch as you stand with your hands extended behind Robbie. Showing off your wings to the old lady at the door as she laughs while Robbie poses in front of you. He feels his blood run cold, the way it would whenever Amanda got upset about something. She would give him the cold shoulder and bottle it up until it eventually overflowed, resulting in an argument where neither of them knew what the real problem was.

Like that one Halloween. They had agreed on going over to Robin and Eddie's apartment. They had planned a small get together to celebrate the holiday and Steve had originally been very excited. She didn't really hang out with his friends as much and he wanted her to. He wanted her in his life in that way, she seemed to be excited about it too until Jonathan called. His car broke down and he and Nancy needed a ride. Amanda knew about Steve and Nancy's past. She had said she was fine about it as long as he wasn't hanging out with her all the time. Naturally he didn't think the ride thing would be an issue, but it was. The three of them had made casual conversation in the car while Amanda stayed silent. She made passive aggressive remarks all night until she and Steve ended up in the bathroom arguing about whether or not he was over her. Eddie ended up driving Jonathan and Nancy home, after Steve had left with Amanda.

A few houses later Robbie has exchanged you for Robin, dragging her from house to house.

Steve feels like his heart is in his throat. Too scared to say anything, not even sure where to start.

You keep glancing over at him. He knows he should say something. He's learned that it's best to just communicate rather than swallow it down but every time he tries he feels like he's choking on air.

"Are you okay Steve?"

He looks over at you, and he melts. You don't look angry, or sad, or even slightly annoyed. You look worried.

"Me? Yeah-no I'm great. I'm fine-are you...are you okay?"

You nod. "I'm having a really nice time. Are you?"

He nods a little too fast to be convincing. "Yeah no I...well no. I mean yes! This is fun, Robbie is having fun and I'm really happy you're here I just...I'm sorry I didn't tell you I had dated Nancy before I know I should have and I totally understand if you're upset-"

"Why would I be upset?"

You've stopped now, while Robbie knocks at another door. Steve finds himself trying to understand why you would be upset. "I mean...she's still in my life, and she used to be in my life in a very different way and I didn't tell you."

It's not very often that Steve confuses you the way you do him. "You had a life before I met you Steve I know that. It doesn't bother me. Is there a reason why it should?"

He shakes his head, "No, not at all. That was a really long time ago. But, she's still my friend. She's still someone I care about just, not in the same way I used to." He holds his breath waiting to see what you'll say.

You look at him so softly. "It's good to care about your friends."

He lets out a breath, "Yeah it is. I care about you too though. As more than a friend. I don't want you to be upset."

You glance around, Robbie and Robin are distracted by the candy getting placed in Robbie's pillowcase, Hopper and Joyce are caught up in their own conversation. It's just you and Steve. You reach up, your bat wings covering the two of you, and lean in for a kiss. It's a short, sweet thing. So sweet that Steve grabs onto your waist to steal a second one from you before you pull away. "I care about you too. I'm not upset."

Before Steve can pull you back in and completely blow your cover Robbie sluggishly walks over to the two of you.

"Dad, I'm cold."

Without a second to spare you spread your wings out to him. Robbie rushes over and you wrap them around him to fight off the cold. Steve crosses his arm and makes a 'tsk' sound. "I told you to put on a jacket buddy."

You look down at the boy and nod. "It's true he did tell you."

From afar the three of you look like a family. Two bats and a Robin under the moonlight.

As the actual Robin looks at you all, she thinks Steve has been hiding something from her. When the three of you turn around to start walking home and Steve grazes his fingertips against the edge of your wings she knows he has.

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It is Steve and Birdie's first date and they've spent long enough pretending they aren't obsessed with each other.  ch. I ch.II ch.III ch. IV  Paring: Single dad!Steve Harrington x oddball!reader  Word Count: 2.3K  Note: we are so back.

Dating wasn’t really something you did a whole lot of. Ever. Sure there was the short lived first boyfriend in high school, but that didn’t work out. You were awkward, and didn’t really know how to show your affection in the ways he wanted you to. Which really wasn’t anyone’s fault, no one knows how to be a good partner when they’re 16.

Then there was the guy in college who liked pretending to read feminist literature in the library but ultimately seemed to hate women by the way he treated you.

And of course the sparse dates that never went past the first because you made some unnerving comment about how there’s a bird that has evolved to seem monogamous to it’s partner but cheats behind their backs so their offspring will be taken care of.

So unfortunately you’re terrified for your first date with Steve. You’ve gone through it in your head, how realistically you can’t scare him away because he’s stuck around this long. How he’s let you into his home and his life.

Yet there’s that little voice in the back of your head. ‘He was sick he must have been delirious when he asked you to dinner.’

‘Maybe he meant just as friends.’

‘You’ve never spent time with him without Robbie.’

‘What if he doesn’t like you alone?’

You know. Horrible, evil, awful things like that.

The wonderful thing about Steve is that he seems like such a 'once in a lifetime' kind of guy that you shove all of those biting thoughts into a box you keep in the back of your head. You swap them out for the girlish feelings you haven't had since you were a teenager.

Your stomach aches while you do your hair.

Your hands shake while you slip on your heels.

You choke a little as you chug water.

Your foot taps against your wooden floors, echoing throughout your apartment while you sit on your couch waiting for Steve. You can hear Teddy scurrying around his cage, your own restlessness having seemingly rubbed off on him.

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Steve has been stalling for about ten minutes now.

He hasn't been on a date in...a really, really long time. He hasn't felt this way about a woman in even longer. He always had a problem with assuming every girl he dated was the one. He thinks it probably stemmed from the constant longing he had for companionship when he was growing up. There's something different about Birdie though, distinct.

It isn't the rush of infatuation he's gotten for women before. It's something softer. Despite how much she tends to surprise and catch him off guard it comes with a steady affection. This constant reminder of 'yes, I want to be here.' He's desperate to have this date be perfect.

Robbie is at home with Hopper. Probably watching some old western he brought over to watch. The fridge is full, he made sure Robbie had taken a bath and he was in his comfiest pajamas as well. He made the reservation at Enzo's a week in advance, and double checked it was still reserved at least three times. He ironed his shirt, though he's sure every time Birdie has seen him he's worn wrinkles and stains and she's never batted an eye.

But that's just it. She's never batted an eye. He wants to make it clear that he cares about this. He even made sure he had the perfect tape in the car. To set the mood...or whatever.

Jesus Christ he's spiraling. He decides he needs to get out of the car before he starts convincing himself it smells too much like the milkshake Robbie spilled two weeks ago.

He walks up to your door. Noticing a bowl of what seems to be cat food outside, he feels his chest get warm at the thought of you buying food for any stray that comes by your door. He wipes his sweaty hand on his pants before softly knocking. He leans in a bit, just to hear the sound of your feet coming towards the door, towards him. When you open it he's met with warmth. Your apartment smells like you, and you look beautiful.

'Hi." You breathe out softly.

"Hey."

There's a beat where the two of you are just taking each other in before you both speak up at the same time.

"You look so nice"

"You're beautiful."

And god if that doesn't just take your breath away. Such a simple sentence, yet it feels like the loveliest thing anyone has ever said to you. You think it's just because it's him saying it, and it makes you feel so giddy. You wish you could purr and curl up to him like a kitten seeking affection but in your foggy love-sick stupor all you can respond with is "Do you want to meet Teddy?"

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Teddy is just as ugly as he was in those polaroids you'd shown him all those weeks ago. You've got him curled up to your chest with the proudest smile on your face.

"Teddy this is Steve. Steve, Teddy."

Steve reaches out to try to pet him but, he's never pet a rat. So he raises a timid finger up to his head and before he can make contact the rodent turns and bites. Hard.

He retracts his hand at rapid speed whist hissing. "Ouch! Jeez Louise."

You similarly recoil with Teddy in your hands. "Teddy! That was so rude." You scold the little guy while putting him back in his cage. You quickly reach over to grab his hand. Examining it, you can see just a bit a blood oozing out of his pointer finger.

Steve's just about to make a joke about not making a good impression before you in all your strange glory lift his finger up to your lips to clean it off. He feels his breath get stuck at the back of his throat.

"I'm so sorry he's never done that before. He's probably just jealous someone else is getting my attention."

When you look up at Steve his cheeks are blazing. "No-its-I mean-yeah no that...makes sense."

"Let me grab a bandaid."

He watches you disappear into the bathroom and makes eye contact with Teddy. He leans in close to whisper something only he can hear.

"I don't know whether to hate or love you for that."

You come back out with an antiseptic wipe and bright pink bandaid. Making quick work of cleaning and covering the very minor wound. Placing a quick and shy kiss over it just like you'd placed on his son’s foot when he was sick.

Steve smiles and holds the hand up to his face. "Does it match my outfit?”

You giggle and respond "I'm pretty sure you could make anything look good."

"Are you flirting with me Birdie?"

You're bright red now, but you feign seriousness. "Of course not. I can't risk making Teddy jealous enough to actually bite your finger off next time."

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Enzo's is probably the nicest restaurant you've ever been to. When you didn't recognize any of the wine's they had Steve asked you what flavors you liked and picked one for you.

"Are you a big wine person?"

He puts down his glass and shakes his head. "Not really. I actually prefer beer but I know a lot about wine."

"How come?"

He feels shy. It's been a while since someone asked him questions that didn't wholly revolve around his son. "uhm...my parents were just those kinds of people."

"Did they pass away?"

He's stopped recoiling when you ask abrupt questions or make comments like that now that he's used to it. "No, they're alive and well."

"But you said were."

His eyebrows furrow together in that way you like. "Oh. I didn't realize, it must have been a slip of the tongue."

"Are they just not around?"

He takes another sip of wine while squinting and pointing at you. "You ask a lot of questions."

You shrug while picking up your own glass, a perfect choice on his end, it's delicious. "I want to know you."

You both share soft smiles from across the table. "I want to know you too."

You look at him in anticipation, waiting for him to answer your question and he can't even feel frustrated that his attempt to change the conversation failed.

"They weren't around a whole lot when I was younger. When Robbie came around they kind of just fell off the face of the earth completely."

And you do the thing you always do. Where you see right through him and his words are enough for you to connect the dots.

"Well. It's their loss."

Both of your hands are laying on the table. Just inches from each other. You start tracing your finger around the bandaid on his own.

"What about you, are you close with your parents?"

You nod. "My mom yes. It was always just us so we were really close but she passed away a while ago."

He feels this heavy weight on his chest. You don't look overly upset, it's more like you're reminiscing on something wonderful.

"I'm so sorry."

You shake your head at him. "Don't be. It happens to all of us eventually. I got her for a long lovely time. She would have liked you."

The way you think is so wonderful. Death scares him. More so now that he has a kid. Yet, you make it seem like you've come to terms with the inevitable and he can't help but admire you for that. He's also beaming at your assumption.

"Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?"

"She had this gift. I've always thought she was psychic or something. She could just...see people. She always knew when someone had a good soul."

He grabs into your hand, turning it around in his own. "You think I have a good soul?"

You tighten your grip and look deep into his honey eyes. "Steve I think you might be the best man I've ever met."

Now he's shaking his head. "You wouldn't say that if you knew me when I was younger."

You lift your intertwined hands and rest your chin on them. "It's a good thing I never met him. But I know you."

And he believes you. He does, because you don't throw the whole "we all make mistakes" speech at him. Because you're the kind of person who sees things for what they are. You're the kind of person who understands that change doesn't mean erasing the past but rather owning up to it and doing better. Being better. You're the kind of person he could fall head over heels for. As you look around the restaurant, people watching and making comments about body language and such all while keeping his hand tucked under your chin he realizes he is.

Steve's falling in love with his strange lady.

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He's walking you to your door. His hand is warm in yours, rough in all the right places with calluses and evidence of a life lived. The wine in your belly makes the chill of the night seem more comfortable than harsh.

When you stop at your door you feel a wave of melancholy wash over you. It's been such a nice night you don't want it to end. You wish you were walking home together. Sharing a bathroom, a space, a life as you get ready to turn in for the night. You wish you could tuck Robbie into bed and read together until he dozed off.

But you don't say any of this to Steve because even you know when too soon is too soon. You feel it though.

"This is probably the nicest night I've had in a long time."

You beam at him. "Even though Teddy bit you?"

He lets out a chuckle. "It makes for a good story."

Even though you don't want to admit all of the deep and scary feelings you have for him. You can't help but say something because the thought of letting a man like this slip through your fingers feels even worse.

"I really like you Steve."

Steve's face becomes so intense. Almost pained as he whispers your name. Not Birdie, but your name.

"I don't think I've ever felt this way about anyone."

When you don't respond he starts to panic a little bit. "That was-sorry that was a lot -"

You shake your head and grip onto his hand when he tries to pull away. "No! No. I...I like a lot. I feel a lot."

You don't have to specify what you mean. That you feel a lot for him. Because Steve knows you. He knows you well enough to know you won't pull away when he starts leaning in for a kiss.

His lips land on yours and he finally feels that thing he's been waiting for his whole life. Not sparks like the ones he felt when he shook your hand for the first time. Not the fireworks everyone is always talking about, but peace. Your wine stained lips feel right. They feel safe, and warm.

They feel like a place he could call home.

The bandaid over his finger feels odd on your cheek but the hand itself doesn't. You let your hand cradle his cheek and you buzz at the feeling of slight stubble. The feeling of the man in front of you.

For the first time in your life you don't feel strange. Or like a basket case. You feel like the girls in the movies do. You feel like you're the most special person in the world right now and if you'd share this with Steve he'd tell you that you were.

He'd tell you that you were all of the good, strange, unexpected, beautiful things in the world.

─────────── · 𓅫 · ───────────

Pairings: Bob Floyd x OC/reader Word Count: 1.6K Notes: sorry I've been MIA I was deeply miserable and then I got pneumonia but I am so back and Bob and Cutthroat are soooooo obsessed with each other it makes them look stupid.  Bittersweet Cinematic Universe

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Bob finds Cutthroat...intimidating. In a lot of ways. He struggles looking into her eyes because they're probably the most intensely beautiful thing he's ever seen. If he was an artist instead of an aviator he'd paint them on church walls. He loves hearing the sound of her voice cut through his headset during training. Loves hearing her shoot out orders and jabs. He get's such a kick out of how competitive she is. Over everything, dog fights, football, meaningless bets, she just feels electric and alive in a way Bob isn't sure he's ever been.

She makes him sweat, specifically through his T-Shirt in this moment. He would blame it on the humidity but he has the AC blasting as high as it can go. He’s leaned over the steering wheel, trying to keep his eyes on the road while switching through every goddamn radio station for something to listen to. Though he’s not really listening to the options.

His senses are overwhelmed with the smell of sweat, leather, and her perfume. It's ridiculous to him that she can still smell this good after sweating all day. He's trying to ignore the way he can feel sand under his thighs sticking to his seat and his heartbeat damn near breaking through his ribcage.

"We could just talk you know...if you can't find something you like."

His neck swings to face her, and she sends out a Hail Mary that her body language isn't giving her away. He leaves the radio on but turns it down so the soft sound of Jeff Buckley's voice is nothing but background noise for their breathing and awkward shifting.

She would like to be mad at her best friend for putting her in this situation, but she can't be. Sweetheart has been at the receiving end of her desperate pining for weeks now. A constant stream of uncharacteristic whining about 'never getting him in a room alone.' Every interaction or conversation she's had with Bob has been in the presence of others or interrupted by some task or request. Except for that day in the locker room. She found him cute the first time she met him, of course she did. He's all soft smiles and goddamn puppy dog eyes, but he had to go and screw her over by being a truly gentle person.

And that got her. It got her so bad in a way she never expected because gentleness doesn't come easily to her. Not in the sense that she struggles to be gentle but in the sense that she isn't met with it often. Her way of being means that people assume she's tough, which she is, but sometimes you just want someone to treat you like you're soft instead of rough around the edges.

"Yeah-no uh-yeah we can talk."

She lets out a soft chuckle. "You were pretty great out there today."

He blows a raspberry and shakes his head. "That was...just lucky."

They're at a red light and he turns to look at her. She's shifted so that most of her body is facing him now, he wishes he wasn't driving because he feels a string pulling at his spine to do the same.

"Do you consider yourself a lucky guy?"

There's no other way to describe the sound of her voice other than sultry, and she has this look in her eyes. Those goddamn eyes. It's the same look she was giving him the first time he met her. Except he doesn't look away this time. "Sometimes I guess."

"Like when?"

He gets this rush of confidence. This feeling that if she's looking at him like that it must mean something. All of the fleeting glances and comments aren't in his head and she's also drunk off him in the same pathetic way he is for her. He's about to tell her that he feels lucky right now. To have her in his car, looking at him, talking to him. For a moment he can pretend he isn't just giving her a ride home from a group event. He can imagine this is what it would be like to drive her home from a date. One where he's wearing nicer clothes and doesn't smell like sunscreen. One where he found the guts to tell her she's got him tangled in her web.

But he doesn't, because the light is green and someone starts honking behind him. Suddenly he isn't the calm and collected guy he is in his fantasy, he's the Bob who was so scared to talk to her alone he spent five minutes flipping through radio channels.

"Shoot- sorry. Uhm...I feel pretty lucky to have been called out here I guess."

Her eyebrows scrunch together like he just said the worlds silliest thing. "That wasn't luck that was skill."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that no one tossed a coin on you Bob. You were called out here because you're amazing at what you do. It's skill, talent, hard work and dedication that brought you here not something as flippant as luck."

His cheeks are burning. He feels like he's right back in that locker room with her except this time she's the one giving him reassurance he didn't even know he needed.

"That's real kind of you to say."

"Yeah well, maybe you are lucky. I'm very frugal with my kindness."

She tries to fight the butterflies swarming up a storm in her stomach as she watches him drive. The way his hands flex around the steering wheel. She's never thought something as mundane as driving could be so erotic until she saw him at the wheel. It makes her feel all warm that he's a text book driver too. Hands perfectly at ten and two, checking his rear view mirror and his blind spot a little too often.

She has no idea that the reason why he's driving so carefully is because he feels like he's carrying something precious in the passenger seat.

"I don't think that's true. I think you're a big softy, you just don't want people to know for some reason."

The gasp she lets out almost gets stuck at the back of her throat. "I am not a softy! What a horrible thing to say."

Bob hums and shakes his head. "No, you are. You're all mush and gush behind all that bark and bite."

"You have no proof, no one will ever believe you."

"I don't need proof. Anyone lucky enough to get in a room with you for longer than a second can see it, you have a different way of showing it that's all."

Her arms cross over her chest, rubbing absentmindedly at them while she ruminates in having his attention on her for longer than the few seconds she's used to. God, sue her but it feels good to have someone pay attention to you like this.

"And how is that since you seem to know me so well."

He takes a moment to think. Her spine straightens out because for a moment she thinks she got him and he's going to come up empty handed.

"You do this thing with Sweetheart, and Phoenix too-I saw that the other day which was nice. Anytime they take their helmets off and their hair is out of place or something you uh...you smooth it back."

Cutthroat prides herself on always having a quip or simply something to say back. Part of her just likes having the last word, but she can't find any in this moment. She never thought of that act as a quirk of hers. It was just second nature.

"My mom used to smooth out my flyaways like that...but she would use her saliva which uh...I don't know that seems like it would be weird if I did it."

He chuckles and looks at her. His eyes are shiny with something she can't quite put her finger on. "That's sweet."

"Mushy gushy if you will."

"I like the mushy gushy stuff."

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Bob drops her off. He goes as far as getting out of his car to open her door but she doesn't expect it so she beats him to it and he ends up just walking her up to her door.

When he leaves Cutthroat is left alone with her thoughts, something she usually tries to avoid. There is something truly special about people like Bob. He reminds her of Sweetheart in that way. People who are unafraid to be vulnerable. Who wear their gentleness like a warm sweater that can be shared rather than hiding it behind some armor. People who enjoy the small things in life like silly videos of dogs online or just the way the sun looks when it's rising. They see life as something to be enjoyed and shared rather than just endured.

Cutthroat feels odd about wanting Bob in this way. She imagines him with more of a white picket fence wife. The kind of woman who is known for being gentle, not ruthless. Probably a veterinarian or something. One who owns a ton of plants because keeping them alive is easy for her.

Cutthroat adamantly avoids plants because they draw bugs and she hates having dirt everywhere. Yet, she wants so badly to lean into this feeling. In her experience love and romance hasn't been what all the movies chalk it up to be. She's logical, you chose to be with a person until you don't. Bob makes her feel the things she was convinced people were lying about. The fireworks, the world stopping around her when he's near. For once in her life she wants to push aside all logic and just lean into the hymn her heart is singing for the man.

She just hopes his heart is singing for her too.

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Steve Harrington:

My Strange Lady · 𓅫 · Single dad!Steve and his journey with odd ball!reader and his son Robbie.

the og blurb

chapter I: Life has thrown many curveballs at Steve, so he shouldn't be so surprised when he begins to grow fond of a very peculiar librarian.

chapter II: Steve begins to learn more about the strange woman who works at the local library. He might even be beginning to call her a friend.

chapter III: It's Robbie's birthday and everyone meets Birdie.

chapter IV: Life once again gets in Steve's way. Life has never stopped Birdie though.

chapter V: It is Steve and Birdie's first date and they've spent long enough pretending they aren't obsessed with each other.

chapter VI: Steve freaks out and not just because it's Halloween.

chapter VII: For Christmas, Steve might finally share his secret with everybody.

thoughts and asks under the bird watch club tag<3

Bassist!reader ⋅☆⋅ Sugar is rough and tough and Steve has the hots for her.

Sugar Me: AKA the time you met Steve at one of your gigs.

I Want You So Bad: AKA the time you got tired of waiting.

Don’t you want me baby?: AKA Steve doesn’t want you to meet his parents and you start spiraling.

Can’t keep my eyes hands off of you: AKA the time the title spoke for itself.

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃

Top Gun Maverick:

Pairings: Jake Seresin x OC, (this is basically an x reader, Sweetheart is just her call sign idk man) also a sprinkle of Bob Floyd x OC because I had to add a tidbit in there.  hurt/no comfort.....yet. Word Count: 2K Notes: *deep sigh* men.  Bittersweet Cinematic Universe

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Dog fight Football on the beach is easily one of Maverick’s best ideas. Sweetheart might just think that because it’s the first time she’s seen everyone smiling in weeks. The sun is giving them all a nice glow, or at the very least a mean burn but no one seems to mind.

They’re nearing the end of the game, and Bob makes a surprising catch. She and Cutthroat chase him down the beach as he makes a touch down. Not in any attempt to intercept him but with full intentions of bombarding him in celebration. They jump at him and her friend wraps her arms around his shoulders, actively ignoring the sweat that clings to the back of his shirt. The flush that spreads from his cheeks to the tips of his ears isn’t from the sun, Sweetheart would put money on it. Maybe some day in the future, when one of them has decided to get their heads out of the sand and do something about their very obvious mutual feelings, she’ll tell Bob that Cutthroat is an absolute neat freak and is easily grossed out by sweat. A fact the woman has clearly forgotten about herself just so she has an excuse to hold him.

In the past few weeks Sweetheart and Bob have bonded over their many shared traits. Being WSO’s, their love of animals, and caring too much about their mean lady.

That last one is precisely why she’s actively avoided Jake ever since the incident. With the way he’s the only one pouting as everyone surrounds Bob on Roosters shoulders, it seems to be weighing heavily on his shoulders.

Look. Cutthroat has her moments, but at the end of the day she wasn’t the one who started the argument. She wasn’t the one who escalated it either. Sweetheart’s always known that people dislike Jake because he’s cocky, and sometimes an asshole. Whether it be naivety or hope that everyone was blowing it out of proportion she’d never seen how volatile he could be first hand. Until the other day.

She thought maybe it was a fluke, a one off of him taking things too far with Cutthroat, but then he did the same thing to Rooster. She’s realized that Jake has a real gift, one other than flying. He knows exactly where to dig the knife so it hurts the most, and he hit an artery when he brought up Roosters father.

She couldn’t do anything but stand there in shock while the two grown men went at each other’s throats. She immediately thought back to what Cutthroat told her at the bar when they first got here.

“Guys like that don’t change.”

The world is bleak, and awful, and shitty and she sees things day in and day out that remind her of this. So while optimism doesn’t come easily to her she fights every day to find it. She believes that people can change. That people can see where they’ve been wrong and take the steps to fix it, but you can’t just take words back once they’ve left your lips.

No matter how lovely Jake’s were.

So she’s been avoiding him. Ignoring his charming, honey soaked compliments and practically running the other way whenever he comes too close.

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Jake is going insane. While everyone is under the impression that his flirtatious demeanor towards his Sweetheart is just a manifestation of his ‘womanizing’ tendencies, it’s not. He’s been head over heels for her since he met her. It’s not the quick rush of adrenaline he gets when he sees a gorgeous woman at the bar either. It’s something heavy and burning that’s been lingering within him for years. So sue him for thinking this would be his shot at actually getting a date with her.

Why didn’t he make a move? Ambition. When they were in the academy everyone was so determined to prove themselves it didn’t leave much time for anything else. He knew they’d be going their separate ways, he hoped it would just be a fleeting crush that he’d forget about as soon as they graduated. He didn’t.

Instead he’s spent years reliving every single time she spoke to him, or brushed by him or even looked his way. So when he found out she was back at Top Gun at the same time as him he kind of hoped it was fate. Until she started avoiding him like he was a walking case of the measles.

He’s sure this is Cutthroats doing. She’s whispering evil, malicious things in Sweethearts ear and probably keeping her captive so she won’t go near him. While it makes him feel a bit stalker-ish he hovers around the parking lot waiting for the two girls to part ways, hoping to just get a moment alone with the nicer one.

He panics for a second. It seems like they’re leaving together, which of course they are. Of course they carpool. They can’t stand to be without each other longer than a few minutes, like a pair of otters afraid they’ll float off to sea if they drop each other’s hands. He watches them bicker quietly before Sweetheart grabs Cutthroat by the shoulders and turns her around.

“Bob honey! Could you give her a ride? I have some errands to run and she makes them very difficult because she has strong opinions about everything!”

Bob probably gives himself whiplash with how quick he turns his head and starts nodding. “Y-yeah! Definitely, I can do that.” He opens the passenger door and lets a very embarrassed looking Cutthroat into the car. Jake thinks it’s the first time he’s ever seen her with her tail between her legs.

He tries brushes off the twinge of jealousy that sprung up when Sweetheart called Bob honey and starts walking over to her car.

She sees him coming from the corner of her eye. The sunset behind him makes the salt water and sweat that still hasn’t vaporized off his skin from the heat reflect beautifully. For a second she debates if she has enough time to get in her car, start it and book it. Unfortunately she doesn’t and the furthest she’d get is the front seat before she’d be forced to have a horribly awkward conversation through the window.

“Should I be worried about Bob stealing you away?”

“Hi Jake.”

He stops in front of her. Slightly out of breath even though he didn’t jog over to her. But his heart is racing and he can’t help but feel his palms begin to sweat.

“Must be my lucky day finally getting you alone.”

“Yeah well…”

She knows this is awkward. She’s being short and probably as rude as she can be. She honestly isn’t sure what to say to him. A foreign expression comes over him, she’s never seen him look so…nervous.

“Are you-I mean how have you been?”

He flinches when he hears himself. He sounds like an idiot.

“Uh…good. Yeah I’ve been good. Tired.”

He nods along. “Yeah no…me too.”

A dense silence falls between the two of them. Sweethearts shirt is clinging to her back with sweat, the humidity is making her hair feel unbearable and she desperately wants to get into her car and blast the AC.

“I’m gonna-“

“Did I do something?”

She stops in her tracks. He’s fiddling with his hands like a schoolboy who’s been scolded for running in the hallway. When Sweethearts mouth opens and no words come out he keeps going. “I just-I feel like you’ve been avoiding me.”

She can’t lie. She hates lying, it’s unproductive. She just can’t figure out how to tell him the truth gently.

“I mean. Yeah I have been.”

He squints a little, “Is this because of Cutthroat?”

“Partially yes-“

He scoffs and shakes his head. “Jesus, I knew she had something to do with it. She can’t stand the idea of sharing you with someone else-“

“Wait what?”

Sweetheart is suddenly defensive, and she has this look in her eyes he’s never seen from her.

“What?”

“Do you seriously think I’ve been avoiding you because she told me to?”

“I mean yeah why else would you-“

“Because you’re an asshole Jake!”

Well so much for letting him down gently.

“Pardon?”

It’s a stupid response. It’s the only one he can come up with. He’s never heard her raise her voice like this. He’s seen her frustrated of course. She gets frustrated in such a soft way. She deadpans you and speaks so gently you can’t help but feel confused as to whether she’s upset or bored with you. This is different though, it’s so much worse.

“You’ve been treating people like shit since we got here!”

“Is this about the Cutthroat thing? Because as much as you might think she’s a saint she dished it right back-“

Part of the reason why Sweetheart hates arguing with people is because she’s an angry cryer. She gets so overwhelmed by how strongly her feelings come up that they end up spilling from her eyes no matter how hard she tries to stop them. So now she’s stuck having a frustrating conversation that she didn’t want to have in the first place and she can feel that undeniable pressure building up from her throat to behind her eyes.

“This isn’t just about her! It’s about what you said to Rooster, and the digs you make at- at Bob and Phoenix and literally anyone else that you seem to think is an easy target! The things you say fucking matter Jake. They matter and they hurt and I know Cutthroat isn’t a saint and you guys have some weird-pent up fucking thing going on, but she wouldn’t have taken it that far if you had just backed off!”

“Oh c’mon you don’t know that.”

“Yes I fucking do because I know her.“

Sweetheart wipes at her face roughly. She’s taking these deep long breaths and she won’t meet his eyes and Jake feels like he’s dug a hole so deep for himself he can’t even see the top. He's holding his arms out, hovering around her but not quite touching her.

“Okay, I- I fucked up, I crossed a line please just-stop crying.”

“I’m not crying!”

She stomps her foot and god help him he flinches. “You aren’t! You aren’t I’m sorry! I’m sorry…”

Sweetheart takes a few more deep breaths. She brushes stray hairs out of her face, straightens her back and gives him a deadpanned look. “No one should have to tell you to feel guilty about the mistakes you make. I shouldn’t have to stand here and throw it in your face for you to say sorry, I’m not even the person you should be apologizing to!”

It’s not that Jake is oblivious to how his actions make people feel. About themselves, about him. Up until now it’s just never bothered him, but it bothered her, and that bothers him. He realizes how fucked up that is. That it takes someone else putting a mirror up to his face to realize he should be caring about the kind of man he is. That he should grow up. It bothers him that she’s right, and it bothers him that he can’t find the words to stop her from getting into her car.

“Handle your shit Jake.”

She closes her door, backs out of her spot, and drives away.

He’s left standing in a lonely parking lot, feeling smaller than he’s ever felt in his life. He’s heard of guys trying psychedelics for the first time and discovering basic human empathy. This kind of feels like that if the psychedelic was the woman he’s been head over heels with telling him to get his shit together. He’s not sure how but he’s gonna fix this. He’s gonna prove to her that he’s more than just an asshole.

He finds himself throwing his head back in frustration because he’s just realized he’s going to have to give a genuine apology to Cutthroat.

And yes. He realizes that it making him this upset is a part of the problem.

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Sweetheart and Cutthroat have been called to train at Top Gun for a seemingly impossible mission. Hangman’s obsessed with Sweetheart. Cutthroat hates Hangman and Bob is too scared to make a move on Cutthroat. Stay tuned for more!

In chronological order<3

mood boards

⋆★⋆ Cutthroat’s journey

⋆★⋆ Sweetheart’s journey

Bittersweet: Your two favorite girls just landed in San Diego.

Guard Dog: Cutthroat is a lit fuse but Bob knows just how to put her out.

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can): Sweetheart's been avoiding Jake and when he confronts her about it he meets a not so sweet version of her.