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𝐔𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐚𝐦 𝐈 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭?

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17. 𝐎𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: honestly doesn’t need much warning, we hate claire

word count: 6.3k

a/n: war is over

Three weeks later. The morning started with a suitcase sitting beside your dorm room door.

You’d packed most of it the night before, too restless to sleep and too distracted to study. Tomorrow was the custody hearing. Even now, the words felt strange.

A custody hearing. Five months ago you would’ve laughed if someone told you this would be your life. Now you were counting down the hours until you got back to Hawkins.

A knock sounded against your door.

“Come in.”

The door swung open and one of your roommates immediately pointed at the suitcase.

“That’s it?”

You looked up from tying your shoes, “What?”

“You’re leaving for the most stressful weekend of your life and that’s all you’re bringing?”

You laughed, “It’s only a few days.”

She shook her head dramatically, “You’re insane.”

“Probably.”

Another friend appeared behind her, “Nervous?”

The question made your smile falter slightly, “Yeah.” There wasn’t really another answer. Tomorrow could change everything. A small silence settled over the room before one of them reached over and squeezed your shoulder.

“You’ll be okay.” Another nodded.

“Seriously.”

“We’re all rooting for you.”

Your chest tightened. Not because they understood. They didn’t. Not completely at least, but they cared anyway.

“Thanks.”

One of them pointed toward the door, “Now go.”

You laughed, “What?”

“Your family’s waiting.”

Family. The word still caught you off guard. Not because it felt wrong, because it felt right.

You grabbed your bag before anyone could see the smile that slipped across your face.

A few minutes later you were climbing into your car and heading home. The drive felt completely different this time.

Three weeks ago, every mile had taken you farther away from Hawkins. Farther away from Steve. Farther away from Blaire. This time every mile brought you closer.

By the time the familiar streets appeared, you were smiling without even realizing it. The knot that had been sitting in your chest for weeks slowly started to loosen.

Home.

The thought settled warmly in your chest. You pulled into the driveway and barely waited for the engine to stop before climbing out.

The house looked exactly the same. The porch looked exactly the same but your heart was pounding anyway.

You grabbed your bag and headed for the front door. The second you stepped inside—

“MAMA!” The scream echoed through the house. You barely had time to drop your bag.

A blur came flying across the living room, “Oh my God—”

Blaire collided with you at full speed. You laughed and immediately scooped her up,“Oh my goodness”

Blaire wrapped herself around your neck so tightly you almost lost your balance, “I missed you!” The words came out in one breath.

You kissed her cheek, “I missed you too.” Another kiss, “So much.” Another kiss, “My bean.”

Blaire giggled as you attacked her face with kisses. Trying and failing to escape, “Mama!”

“I know.” Another kiss, “I know.”

“I just missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You buried your face against her hair and held her for a second longer than necessary.

You missed her more than you realized. When you finally pulled back, Blaire immediately cupped your face between her hands like she was making sure you were actually there.

You smiled, and that’s when a familiar hand settled against your waist. Your smile widened instantly. You turned your head barely halfway and Steve was already kissing you.

Three weeks of missing each other poured into one moment. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. His hand never leaving your waist, “Hi, baby.”

The sound of his voice almost made your knees weak, “Hi.”

Steve let out a breathless laugh, “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

You smiled, “I think I do.” His arm tightened around your waist.

Then another voice cut through the moment, “Well look who finally decided to come home.”

You laughed immediately, “Mom.” Valerie stood from the dining room table, Richard beside her. The sight of both of them made your chest warm instantly. You carefully shifted Blaire onto one hip before moving forward for hugs.

“Hi sweet pea.” Valerie squeezed you tightly. Richard smiled, “Good drive?”

“Long.”

“That’s because you drive like an eighty year old woman.”

You gasped and Valerie laughed. Richard looked very pleased with himself.

Across the room, Steve immediately nodded, “He’s right.”

You pointed at both of them, “Unbelievable.” Blaire giggled.

The next few minutes passed in a blur of questions and hugs and catching up. The kind of comfortable chaos that only happened when everybody was together.

Then your eyes drifted toward the dining room table. Papers. Folders. Notes. Everything spread across the surface.

Your smile softened slightly. Tomorrow. The custody hearing, the reason everyone was here, the reason you’d come home.

Steve noticed immediately, his hand found yours. A silent reassurance.

You took the seat beside Steve without thinking about it. The moment you sat down, Blaire climbed directly into your lap.

Three weeks apart apparently meant she planned on being attached to you for the foreseeable future. Not that you minded.

You wrapped an arm around her middle as Steve slid a folder toward the center of the table. Immediately, his hand found your knee beneath it.

Another unconscious thing. Another reminder that you’d been gone.

Valerie noticed and the smile she hid behind her coffee mug was incredibly annoying. You ignored it, Steve didn’t even realize he was doing it.

Richard cleared his throat, “Okay.” The room settled. “Tomorrow isn’t going to be nearly as dramatic as television makes it look.”

That earned a laugh from Valerie, “Good start.”

Richard smiled, “I’m serious.” He glanced between you and Steve. “You’ll answer questions. Claire will answer questions. The judge will review everything that’s already been submitted.”

Steve nodded. He was focused, listening. The same Steve that had cried in the driveway three weeks ago was nowhere to be found right now.

Richard continued, “The biggest thing is consistency.”

Steve nodded again, “We’ve got that.”

“You do.” Richard tapped one of the folders.“You’ve got school records.” Another tap, “Medical records.” another, “Statements from teachers.”

Valerie leaned forward, “And neighbors.”

Steve snorted, “Mrs. Callahan practically wrote a novel.”

Richard smiled, “The point is, you’ve got support.” Richard looked toward you, “And if they ask about you, answer honestly.”

Your stomach immediately flipped. hSteve’s hand tightened on your knee. You glanced at him briefly before looking back toward Richard.

“What if they ask about…” You hesitated. “Everything.”

Valerie’s expression softened, “The age difference?” You nodded and the room went quiet for a moment.

Everybody knew that was what you meant. Richard leaned back slightly, “Then you tell the truth.”

You frowned, “The truth?”

“The truth.” He nodded once. “You didn’t meet Blaire because you were trying to replace her mother.” Steve’s jaw tightened immediately. Richard continued, “You didn’t move into this house with some grand plan.”

“You fell in love.”

The words landed heavily in the room. Steve looked down briefly. You felt his thumb brush against your knee beneath the table.

Valerie smiled softly, “Nobody can argue with the truth.”

You swallowed looking down at Blaire. She was busy drawing on a piece of scrap paper completely unaware that the adults around her were discussing her future.

Your chest tightened. Tomorrow wasn’t about winning. It was about this, keeping this.

Steve must’ve been thinking something similar because his arm settled across the back of your chair.

Richard finally closed one of the folders. The sound seemed louder than it should’ve been, “I know tomorrow is scary.” Nobody argued. “But you’ve already done the hard part.”

Steve frowned slightly, “What’s that?”

Richard looked toward Blaire, “You gave her a home.” The room fell quiet. A different kind of quiet this time.

Blaire looked up from her drawing, completely oblivious, “Can we get pizza?”

Valerie laughed first. You buried your face in Blaire’s hair and Steve actually snorted.

The tension eased, enough for everyone to breathe again.

Tomorrow was still coming. The hearing was still happening. Nothing had changed.

But for tonight? You were home and everyone you loved was sitting around the same table.

It took longer than usual to get Blaire to sleep. Not because she was being difficult, but because she refused to let go of you.

You’d read three stories. Sat beside her bed while she told you everything you’d missed over the last three weeks.

By the time her eyes finally started drooping, you were fighting a yawn yourself. “Love you, Mama.”

Your heart squeezed, “Love you too, bean.” You leaned down and kissed her forehead then quietly slipped out of the room.

The house was dark when you reached the hallway. Most of the lights had been turned off. Valerie and Richard had gone home hours ago.

You made your way toward the bedroom. The second you stepped inside, Steve looked up from where he’d been sitting against the headboard and immediately smiled.

“There you are.”

You laughed softly, “She was stalling.”

Steve shook his head, “No.”

“No?”

“No, baby. She was spending time with you.” You couldn’t even argue because he was right.

You kicked off your slippers and climbed onto the bed beside him. Before you’d even settled properly, Steve’s arm was already around your shoulders.

Pulling you closer, like he was making up for three weeks all at once.

You smiled, “Missed me?”

Steve looked genuinely offended, “That’s a stupid question.”

You laughed. His forehead immediately found yours, “I missed you.”

Your chest tightened, “I missed you too.”

He pressed a kiss to your hair and settled back against the headboard with you tucked against his side.

For a few minutes neither of you spoke. Enjoying being in the same room again.

The same bed. The same house.

Eventually you sighed, “Tomorrow.”

Steve’s arm tightened slightly, “Tomorrow.”

The word sat between you. Neither of you wanted to think about it, but neither of you could ignore it.

“You nervous?” Steve asked.

You nodded, “A little.”

“A little?”

You laughed, “Okay. A lot.”

Steve smiled, “Me too.”

That surprised you, “You?”

He looked down at you, “Baby, I’m terrified.”

You couldn’t help laughing. Steve shook his head, “I’m serious.”

“I know.” you took a deep breath, “Richard thinks it’ll go well.”

“Richard also thought I wouldn’t need three cups of coffee this morning.” That earned another laugh. Steve smiled at the sound.

He’d missed hearing you laugh. “You like being back?” You looked up, “Here?”

Steve nodded.

You smiled, “Of course, baby.” A beat. “Feels like home.”

The words slipped out before you could think about them. Steve went very still, not because he was surprised, because he wasn’t. He just liked hearing it. His hand found yours beneath the blanket and squeezed.

For a while after that, the conversation drifted. Until eventually your words became slower.

Your eyes heavier. The exhaustion of the day finally catching up with you.

Steve noticed immediately, “Get some sleep, baby.” You hummed softly already half asleep.

Tomorrow would come whether you were ready for it or not, but tonight? You were home.

Steve pressed one last kiss to the top of your head, pulled you a little closer and together, the two of you finally drifted off to sleep.

Ready to face tomorrow.

The hallway outside the courtroom buzzed with quiet conversations and the occasional shuffle of papers, but all you could hear was your own heartbeat.

Tomorrow had seemed far away last night. Now it was ten feet away behind a wooden door.

You sat on a bench between Valerie and Steve, your hands twisted together so tightly in your lap that they hurt. Across from you, Steve’s attorney sat in a chair flipping through a thick folder one final time.

Prepared, calm, professional. You wished you felt even half as composed. Unfortunately, you felt like you might throw up.

A warm hand settled over yours, Steve. You looked over. He’d been watching you, “You okay, baby?”

“No.” the answer came immediately.

Steve laughed softly through his nose, “At least you’re honest.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, “What if this goes badly?”

“It won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” You lifted your head. Steve’s expression hadn’t changed. He looked certain, the exact opposite of what was happening inside your chest.

“It’s gonna go fine, baby.”

You rolled your eyes, “You sound really confident.”

“I am.” Steve squeezed your hand before leaning down and pressing a kiss against your forehead.

“We’ve got a good lawyer.” Another kiss, “We’ve got evidence.” another, “We’ve got teachers.”You couldn’t help smiling. “We’ve got neighbors.”

“Mrs. Callahan alone should win us the case.”That earned a laugh from your mom.

Then Steve tipped your chin up gently, his voice lowering, “Hey.” You looked at him. “We’re okay.”

You nodded once and then doors opened. The atmosphere changed instantly. Nobody had to say anything, everyone felt it. Claire stepped into the hallway.

Her eyes landed on Steve first, then you, then the hand he still had wrapped around yours. A small smile pulled at her lips, “Wow.”

Claire laughed lightly, “I guess three weeks apart didn’t cool things down.”

Steve’s jaw tightened, you felt it happen before you saw it. His entire posture changing.

Claire looked directly at you, the smile never leaving her face, “It must be nice.” The hallway fell quiet. “Getting to play house while everyone else deals with the consequences.”

Valerie visibly stiffened. Richard looked away before he said something he’d regret. Across the hall, Steve’s attorney glanced up briefly from his file.

Claire took another step forward, eyes still on you, “I mean really.” she laughed, “A college sophomore playing mommy.”

Your face immediately heated. The words hit harder than you wanted them to, because they were the exact fears that kept you awake at night.

Claire knew exactly where to aim. Before you could say anything Steve stood, “That’s enough.”

The smile disappeared from Claire’s face. Steve didn’t raise his voice, “You’re not going to stand here and talk about her like that.”

The hallway went silent. Steve took a step closer, “Whatever issue you’ve got with me?” His arm brushed yours, “Take it up with me.”

Claire scoffed, looked away first and just like that she lost, “See you inside.” She turned and disappeared through the courtroom doors. The second she was gone, you released a shaky breath.

Steve immediately sat back down beside you. His hand finding yours again, then your cheek. His thumb brushing softly across your skin.

“Hey.” You looked at him, “It’s gonna go fine, baby.”

This time when he kissed your cheek you let yourself believe him.

The courtroom was smaller than you’d imagined. Not the grand, intimidating room you’d seen in movies. Just wooden benches. Beige walls. Fluorescent lights.

Which somehow made it worse because this wasn’t a movie. This was real. You sat beside Steve at the plaintiff’s table, your knee bouncing despite your best efforts to stop it. Across the aisle sat Claire, dressed in a navy blazer, her expression carefully neutral.

Steve’s attorney organized a stack of folders in front of him. The bailiff called the room to order.

Everyone stood, then the judge entered. Your heart immediately jumped into your throat.

This was it. The hearing began. For the first twenty minutes, it wasn’t nearly as dramatic as you’d expected.

Paperwork, statements, procedural questions, names, dates. Things that sounded important but mostly made your head spin. Steve’s attorney handled everything calmly.

Slowly, the knot in your stomach started loosening. Then they began discussing Blaire and suddenly every word mattered.

The first witness was Blaire’s teacher. A kind woman you’d met just before the hearing, you never got to take Blaire her first day of school so you missed out on meet the teacher.

She adjusted her glasses and answered each question carefully.

“Would you describe Mr. Harrington as involved in Blaire’s education?”

“Very.”

“Can you elaborate?” The teacher smiled slightly, “He attends conferences. Checks in regularly. Communicates with school staff. He’s consistently involved.”

Steve stared straight ahead but you saw the way his shoulders relaxed.

The attorney nodded, “And how would you describe Blaire’s behavior at school?”

“Happy.” The word landed heavily. The teacher continued, “She’s well adjusted. Friendly. Excited to participate. She talks about home frequently.” Your heart squeezed.

“What kinds of things does she say?” A small smile appeared on the teacher’s face, “Usually stories about her father.”

A few quiet chuckles echoed through the room. Even the judge smiled faintly. The teacher shrugged, “There’s usually a new one every week.”

The attorney continued, “Has Blaire ever indicated she feels unsafe in her current home?”

“No.”

“Neglected?”

“No.”

“Unhappy?”

“No.” The teacher’s answer came immediately.

Across the room, Claire’s jaw tightened. The next witness wasn’t much better for her. Then another, and another. A pediatrician. A neighbor.

Each one painting the same picture. A stable home, a happy child, an involved father. By the time the final witness stepped down, you could feel the atmosphere shifting.

Steve’s attorney felt it too. He stood, straightened his jacket, then approached the bench once more.

“Your Honor, at this time I’d like to submit the school records, attendance reports, and supporting statements previously referenced.”

The judge accepted them. Claire’s attorney didn’t object.

Steve leaned closer, “So far, so good.” His voice was barely above a whisper. You nodded trying not to get your hopes up.

The judge glanced through a few pages before setting them aside. Then looked toward Claire’s side of the courtroom.

“Counselor.” The room seemed to hold its breath. Claire’s attorney stood. And for the first time all morning you felt nervous again, because now it was her turn.

Claire’s attorney stood slowly. Unlike Steve’s attorney, who had spent the morning building something piece by piece, Claire’s attorney looked like he was preparing to tear something apart.

Your stomach twisted. Steve’s hand immediately found yours beneath the table.

The attorney adjusted his glasses. Then looked directly at Steve, “Mr. Harrington.”

Steve stood. The attorney offered a polite smile, “Would you agree that your life has changed significantly over the past year?”

“Yes.”

“Would you agree that much of that change occurred very quickly?”

Steve didn’t hesitate, “Some of it.”

The attorney nodded, “And during that time, you entered a serious relationship?”

You felt your chest tighten. Here we go. Steve’s expression never changed, “Yes.”

“And this relationship involves this lovely young lady.”

Steve glanced toward you briefly, then back, “Yes.”

The attorney paced slowly, “She is currently nineteen years old, correct?”

There it was, the first shot. Steve’s jaw tightened slightly, “Yes.”

“And currently attending college.”

“Yes.”

The attorney nodded like he’d just established something important. You hated it. The way he said it. The way the words sounded in the room.

Nineteen.

College student.

Like those things alone made you irresponsible, like they automatically disqualified you from caring about Blaire.

The attorney turned toward the judge, “Would it be fair to say Miss Lawson is absent from the home for extended periods of time?”

Steve answered before the judge could, “She’s attending school.”

The attorney smiled, “That wasn’t my question.” Steve’s attorney immediately stood, “Objection. Counsel is editorializing.”

“Sustained.” The judge didn’t even look up. The attorney nodded, “Mr. Harrington, does Miss Reader currently reside in Hawkins year round?”

“No.”

The attorney turned as if he’d just scored a point. Your stomach dropped. You could practically feel Claire watching you from across the room.

The attorney continued, “And yet your daughter refers to her as ‘Mama.’”

“Yes.”

“Why?” The attorney’s voice was calm, measured, calculated.

Steve’s answer wasn’t because it came immediately, “Because that’s what she wants to call her.”

The attorney paused, “Do you encourage that?”

Steve’s jaw flexed, “Yes.”

A beat.

“Have you stopped it?”

Another beat.

“No.”

The attorney looked pleased, “Would you agree that allowing a child to form such an attachment to a nineteen year old college student could create instability?”

The silence that followed felt enormous. You stopped breathing. Across the room, your mom visibly stiffened. Richard’s expression darkened.

Steve’s attorney was already halfway standing but Steve spoke first, “No.”

“No?” The attorney frowned. Steve continued, “What’s unstable is having people constantly come in and out of her life.” Your eyes immediately snapped toward him. “What’s unstable is making promises and disappearing.”

Claire’s expression hardened. Steve didn’t stop, “What’s unstable is letting her wonder who’s coming back and who’s not.”

The attorney shifted, clearly not loving where this was going.

Steve’s voice softened slightly, “But she never has to wonder about her.”

Your throat tightened and Steve finally looked toward you, just for a second. Then back toward the attorney, “She never has to wonder if she’s loved.”

Your eyes immediately filled. The attorney cleared his throat, trying to regain control.

The attorney shuffled a few papers, then looked down, “Miss Lawson and yourself are not married.”

There it was, another shot. Steve looked completely unimpressed, “No.”

“And if the relationship ended?” Steve’s attorney immediately stood, “Objection.”

The judge nodded, “Sustained.”

The attorney sighed. Annoyed. Then turned toward Claire who was sitting perfectly still.

You got a bad feeling, a really bad feeling.

Because Claire was smiling and Claire only smiled when she thought she had something left to play.

The smile bothered you. Not even hearing your age repeated over and over like it was some kind of character flaw. It was Claire’s smile, because she looked far too calm for someone whose case wasn’t going well.

Steve’s attorney sat back down beside you. The morning had largely gone in your favor. You knew that, everybody knew that. Even the judge seemed more interested when Steve’s witnesses spoke than when Claire’s attorney tried to poke holes in them.

So why was Claire smiling? The feeling settled heavily in your stomach. Claire’s attorney returned to his table.

The judge looked toward Claire, “Mrs. Harrington.”

Claire stood, “It’s just Dawson.” she said smoothing her skirt. She walked to the witness stand. You hated how comfortable she looked.

After she was sworn in, her attorney approached, “Miss Dawson, why have you requested modification of the current custody arrangement?”

Claire folded her hands neatly, “I believe my daughter deserves stability.”

The attorney nodded, “And do you believe she’s receiving that stability currently?”

“No.” The word echoed through the room. You felt Steve stiffen beside you and Claire continued, “I think she’s being raised in an environment where boundaries are unclear.”

Your stomach dropped. The attorney nodded encouragingly, “What do you mean by that?”

Claire sighed, “I think my daughter is being exposed to adult situations she shouldn’t be exposed to.”

Across the room, Steve’s attorney immediately looked up, interested. The judge did too. Claire noticed and kept going, “I think Mr. Harrington’s priorities have become confused.”

Steve laughed once, a sharp little sound. Claire ignored it, “He’s allowed a teenager to become a parental figure in my daughter’s life.”

The attorney nodded, “And what specifically concerns you?” Claire glanced down at her purse then back up.

“Actually.” Her voice was almost pleasant,

“I have an example.”

Your stomach dropped instantly. Claire reached into her purse and Steve went still beside you. The attorney frowned, “What is it?”

Claire pulled out a small cassette recorder. The blood drained from your face. The room looked confused, the judge looked confused.

Steve’s attorney was already frowning. Your pulse started pounding so loudly you could barely hear anything else. Claire set the recorder on the witness stand, “This recording was provided to me by a concerned neighbor.”

Your vision blurred slightly, Steve turned toward you. The second he saw your face, he knew too.

Claire continued speaking and every word made it worse, “This neighbor has repeatedly reported hearing inappropriate activity coming from the residence.”

The judge’s expression darkened. Steve’s attorney stood.

Claire kept going, “If the neighbors can hear it from outside—” Your stomach twisted. “—then it’s reasonable to assume Blaire can hear it too.”

The room went silent. Humiliation crashed over you so hard you thought you might actually be sick. Claire’s fingers moved toward the play button.

Steve’s attorney took a step forward, “Your Honor—” Too late.

Static. One second. Two. Then, “Oh Steve—“ Faint and recognizable. The room froze.

“OBJECTION!” The attorney’s voice practically shook the walls. The recording stopped immediately. The entire courtroom jumped. Steve’s attorney was already halfway across the room.

“This is outrageous.”

The judge slammed his gavel once, “Order.”

But Steve’s attorney wasn’t done. He pointed directly at the cassette recorder, “A secretly recorded private interaction between two consenting adults?” His voice was sharp enough to cut glass. “What possible relevance does this have to the matter before this court?”

Claire opened her mouth. The attorney cut her off immediately, “No.” The single word echoed through the room. “This is not evidence.” he yelled, “This is harassment.” The judge’s face had gone completely unreadable. Steve’s attorney continued, “And if this recording was obtained in the manner I suspect it was obtained, then I have serious concerns regarding privacy violations and unlawful surveillance.”

The room had completely shifted. A few seconds ago Claire had looked confident, now she looked cornered.

But you barely noticed because your ears were ringing. Your face was burning. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think.

You just wanted out, out of the courtroom, out of the building, out of your own skin. Every eye in the room felt glued to you.

The humiliation was unbearable. You stood abruptly, your chair scraping loudly against the floor.

The judge looked toward you immediately. You swallowed hard, “Your Honor…” your voice cracked.

You tried again, “I…” You couldn’t. “May I be excused?” The room fell silent. The judge took one look at your face. Then nodded, “We’ll take a fifteen minute recess.” You were moving before he finished speaking, gone from your chair.

“Baby—” Steve’s voice followed instantly.

But you couldn’t stop, you couldn’t look at anyone. You couldn’t stay there another second. You pushed through the courtroom doors and disappeared into the hallway.

The second the courtroom doors swung shut behind you, you broke. Your heels echoed against the courthouse floor as you hurried down the hallway.

People turned to look. You didn’t care, you couldn’t care. All you could hear was your own heartbeat, those two horrible seconds.

Your voice. Playing through a courtroom speaker. In front of strangers. In front of your mother.

Humiliation crawled up your throat so violently you thought you might actually throw up. You pushed into the nearest restroom and locked yourself inside a stall.

Then finally sat down, hands shaking, face burning. The tears came immediately, mortified tears. It wasn’t the recording, not really. It was what Claire had turned it into. She’d taken something private, something loving, something that belonged to you and Steve and she’d dragged it into a courtroom, like it was something dirty, something shameful.

The stall door rattled. Then, “Baby?”

Your eyes squeezed shut, “Go away.”

The response came instantly, “No.”

A fresh tear slid down your cheek, “Steve I can’t right now.”

“Come on.” He was standing right outside the stall. You could picture it, one hand on his hip, worried sick, refusing to leave.

“Please.” Your voice cracked, “I don’t want you looking at me right now.”

“Yeah.” Steve’s voice softened, “I’m definitely not doing that.”

The stall door unlocked before you could stop yourself and the second you stepped out Steve was there.

“Hey.” You immediately looked away. Steve gently caught your face before you could turn completely. His hands were warm, “Hey.”

You swallowed hard, “That was so embarrassing.” The words came out small.

Steve’s face immediately tightened, “You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You laughed once, “Steve—”

“What?” His hands stayed on your cheeks, keeping your attention. “The only person who should be embarrassed right now is Claire.”

A tear slipped down your face. Steve wiped it away immediately, “Baby.” His forehead touched yours, “Look at me.”

“Do you think I care about that tape?”

You groaned, “Stevie.”

“I’m serious.”

“Please stop saying tape.” That actually earned a tiny smile.

Steve shook his head, “You think I’m embarrassed?”

You didn’t answer. Steve’s expression softened then he leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“No.” Another kiss, “Not even a little.” He kissed your lips, “I love you.”

Steve’s voice dropped lower, “The fact that she had to dig through garbage to find something to use against us?” He shook his head, “That says a lot more about her than it does about us.”

The restroom door opened, both of you stepped out. Everyone was waiting for you.

Including Steve’s attorney, who still looked absolutely furious. The second he saw you, his expression softened slightly, “Miss Lawson.”

You wiped your eyes. Embarrassed all over again.

The attorney shook his head, “That stunt she just pulled?” His jaw tightened, “May have been the worst decision she could’ve made.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. The attorney continued, “The judge was already losing patience.”

Steve folded his arms, still standing beside you. Still close enough that his shoulder touched yours.

The attorney sighed, “Introducing an illegally obtained recording of two consenting adults in a custody hearing?” He laughed once, “That was reckless.”

The attorney nodded, “She thought she was hurting your case.” A pause, “If anything, she hurt her own.”

The words settled over all of you. Your mom finally stepped forward pulling you into a hug immediately, “Oh sweet pea.”

That almost started the tears again. Steve’s arm found your waist like it had a hundred times before.

The attorney checked his watch, “The recess ends in ten minutes.”

The knot in your stomach immediately returned. You still had to go back, you had to finish this.

He squeezed your side gently, “You okay?”

You let out a slow breath, “Yeah.”

Steve smiled then pressed one last kiss against your temple, “That’s my girl.”

And together, all of you headed back toward the courtroom.

The walk back felt longer than the walk out. Maybe because this time you knew what was waiting. The courtroom doors, the people, the stares. The memory of what had happened twenty minutes earlier.

Steve must’ve felt your hesitation. His hand found yours before you reached the doors and didn’t let go. Not for a second.

The bailiff opened the door. Everyone filed back inside. You kept your eyes forward. You refused to look at Claire, refused to give her the satisfaction.

Steve’s attorney took his seat, opened his folder, then immediately stood, “Your Honor.” The judge looked up. “I’d like to address the matter that occurred prior to recess.”

Steve’s attorney continued, calm now, controlled, which somehow felt more dangerous than when he’d been yelling, “The recording introduced by opposing counsel was irrelevant, prejudicial, and obtained under circumstances that raise serious questions regarding legality.”

The judge nodded once, “Agreed.”

A tiny rush of relief hit your chest. The attorney continued. “We respectfully request that the court disregard the attempted submission in its entirety.”

“Granted.” Just like that. Gone. Finished. The cassette player sat uselessly on Claire’s table. For the first time all day she looked nervous.

The judge glanced toward both attorneys, then down at the paperwork in front of him. After a moment, he removed his glasses. The room immediately grew quieter.

“I believe I’ve heard sufficient testimony from both parties.”

Your pulse jumped. Oh God. This was it. Across the room, Claire straightened. Steve went completely still beside you. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

Then, “Before I make a determination regarding temporary custody…” The judge paused and your stomach dropped.

The judge continued, “I would like the opportunity to speak privately with the child.”

Steve’s attorney nodded immediately. Claire’s attorney nodded too. Nobody objected, because nobody could. Your heart was pounding so hard it hurt. The judge looked toward the bailiff, “Please bring Miss Harrington in.”

Miss Harrington. Your throat tightened. The words hit Steve too. You saw it, the smallest crack in his composure, the tiniest flicker.

Then the doors opened and in walked Blaire, hand in hand with your mother, holding a stuffed rabbit, completely unaware she was carrying everyone’s heart in her tiny little hands.

The sight of her nearly made you cry. She looked around the room, confused, curious, then immediately spotted you and Steve. Her entire face lit up.

“Hi!” The judge actually smiled. Of course she walked into a custody hearing like she’d just arrived at a birthday party.

The judge spoke gently, “Hello, Blaire.”

Blaire smiled, “Hi.” The judge glanced around the room, then back at her, “Would you mind talking with me for a little while?”

Blaire looked toward Steve first, then you. You smiled, trying desperately to hide how terrified you were, “It’s okay, bean.”

She nodded, then followed the judge into his chambers. The door closed behind them, and suddenly the entire courtroom stopped breathing.

The silence was unbearable. Valerie clasped her hands together. Richard stared at the floor. Steve looked like he might be physically ill. You’d never seen him like this. Not even during the hearing because this wasn’t something he could prepare for. There was no evidence, no lawyer, no testimony. Just Blaire being Blaire. And somehow that was scarier than everything else.

Minutes crawled by. Five. Ten. Fifteen. Every second felt like an hour.

You couldn’t sit still. Neither could Steve. His knee bounced relentlessly beside yours. You finally reached over and placed your hand on top of it. Immediately, the movement stopped.

Steve looked at you. You didn’t say anything. Neither did he. You just held his hand and waited.

Then the door opened. Every head in the courtroom turned at once. Blaire walked out first, still holding her rabbit, still completely fine. The judge followed behind her.

And for some reason…that made your heart pound even harder. Now it was over, now the decision was coming, now there was nothing left to do except wait.

The judge resumed his seat. The entire courtroom followed. Nobody spoke, nobody moved. Even Blaire seemed to sense something important was happening. She’d been returned to Valerie and now sat quietly beside her, clutching her rabbit against her chest. For once…she wasn’t talking.

Your heart was beating so hard you could feel it in your throat. Beside you, Steve looked completely still. The kind of stillness that only happened when someone was trying very hard not to fall apart.

The judge folded his hands, looked down at his notes, then finally spoke, “First, I’d like to address the testimony presented today.”

Nobody breathed. “The court has reviewed statements from teachers, neighbors, medical professionals, and family members.” A pause. Your stomach twisted. “The overwhelming majority of testimony presented described Blaire Harrington as a happy, healthy, and well adjusted child.”

A tiny crack appeared in Claire’s expression. The first one all day. The judge continued, “She appears to be thriving in her current environment.”

The judge glanced toward Steve. Then toward Claire, “The court does not find sufficient evidence to support removing the child from her current primary residence.”

You grabbed Steve’s hand immediately, without thinking. His fingers wrapped around yours so tightly it almost hurt. Neither of you cared.

The judge continued, “Furthermore…” He removed his glasses and set them on the desk, and suddenly every word felt heavier. “The court is concerned by certain actions and decisions displayed during these proceedings.”

Claire’s face immediately paled. Her attorney looked exhausted. The judge didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. Everyone knew exactly what he meant. The cassette. The recording. The stunt. All of it.

Then, “The court’s responsibility is to determine what serves the best interests of the child.” A pause, long enough to make everyone miserable. Then finally, “Temporary primary custody shall remain with Mr. Steve Harrington and Miss Lawson.”

The world stopped. For one second, everything stopped. The courtroom. The noise. Your heartbeat. Everything.

Then Steve exhaled. A broken sound. The kind of sound someone makes after holding their breath for months. Your eyes immediately filled with tears.

Across the room, Valerie covered her mouth. Richard looked down, shaking his head once, relieved. Claire looked like she’d been punched.

The judge wasn’t finished, “There will be a structured visitation schedule established moving forward.” Claire nodded stiffly. The judge looked back down at his notes. Then said something that made your entire chest ache, “Several witnesses referenced the positive relationship Miss Lawson has developed with the child.”

Your head snapped up. Across the room, Claire went completely still. The judge continued, “The court notes those statements.”

Your throat tightened, “The relationship appears healthy, supportive, and beneficial to the child’s overall well being.”

You stopped breathing. For weeks, you’d been terrified that everyone saw you the way Claire did, temporary, replaceable, just a kid playing house.

And now an actual judge was saying the opposite. The tears came immediately. Beside you, Steve looked over and the second he saw your face, his own eyes filled too.

The judge closed the file, “This hearing is concluded.”

The gavel came down once. Sharp. Final. And just like that it was over. For a second nobody moved. Nobody seemed to know how.

Then Blaire broke the silence, “Daddy?” The tiny voice echoed through the room. Steve turned immediately. Blaire looked around, confused, holding her rabbit, “Can we go get ice cream now?”

The entire room burst into laughter. Even the judge smiled. Valerie laughed through tears. Richard finally lost it and laughed too.

Steve stood, crossed the room in three strides, scooped Blaire into his arms and completely broke. Not sobbing, just tears, relieved tears. The kind he’d been holding back all day.

Blaire grabbed his cheeks, “Daddy?”

Steve laughed through it. “Yeah, bug?”

“Why are you crying?”

The room somehow laughed even harder. Steve shook his head, pulled her into his chest, then looked at you standing there, crying too.

And suddenly neither of you cared who saw because you won. Not just the case. Something bigger. The right to go home together.

Steve held a hand out toward you. You took it immediately and for the first time, nobody was trying to take your family apart.

The fight was over and all Blaire wanted was ice cream.

I miss when Claire called reader pweety can I request maybe next time or something because steve calls her baby she sometimes calls her baby for fun and they find it adorable

i just want to say i love all the support i have been getting with the mother in you!!! if i’m being honest i’m having writers block and i’m not feeling as motivated to write as i usually am!! i’m gonna finish tomorrow’s chapter but after that i think i’m gonna take a little break 🙁🙁

16. 𝐁𝐲𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐍𝐨𝐰

steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, super sadddd

word count: 3.4k

a/n: lowkey a filler 🫤

Three weeks later. You woke slowly, warm beneath the blankets and tangled somewhere in Steve’s arms. For a few seconds, you didn’t move, didn’t open your eyes.

The house was still quiet. No tiny footsteps racing down the hallway, no television downstairs, no dishes clinking in the kitchen.

Just the steady sound of Steve breathing behind you, and the feeling of an arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Tightly enough that you immediately knew, Steve was awake.

You smiled faintly, “How long have you been up?” A soft sigh left him behind you, “Hour.”

Your eyes opened, “Steve.”

“What? That’s not even that long.” he defended himself. You rolled over carefully to face him. Steve looked exhausted. One arm remained hooked around your waist while the other rested beneath his head. His hair was a mess from sleep or from running his hands through it all morning, and his eyes immediately softened the second they met yours.

“You should’ve woken me up.”

“No.”

“Baby.”

“No.” His answer came instantly, like he’d already had this argument with himself.

You couldn’t help smiling, “You just laid here?”

“Pretty much.”

“Now I’m mad you didn’t wake me up.”

“You would have gotten mad at me either way.”

You laughed quietly because, it was true. You would have. Steve’s arm tightened around you slightly, pulling you closer.

Today’s the day. The thought sat heavily between you. The same way it had for the last week. You’d packed most of your things yesterday. Your textbooks sat in a neat stack beside the bedroom door, two suitcases waited downstairs, and you car was already half loaded.

In a few hours you’d be driving back to campus, back to classes, back to dorms, back to your old life. The problem was…it didn’t feel like your life anymore.

Steve’s thumb moved slowly against your side like he was trying to memorize the feeling.

“You know,” you said quietly, “normal people are excited to go back to school.”

Steve snorted, “Normal people don’t have a kid asking where they are every morning.”

Steve noticed your expression soften, “Yesterday she asked if you were taking her with you.”

You laughed despite yourself, “Oh no.” you groaned.

“Yeah.” His smile appeared briefly, “Told her you probably couldn’t fit her in the dorm room.”

That earned a real laugh, “What’d she say?”Steve immediately mimicked her little voice, “I can sleep on the floor.”

You buried your face in his chest, “Aw, poor bean.”

“I know.” His chin rested on top of your head.

For a second both of you smiled, then the sadness returned. Because no matter how much either of you joked about it you were still leaving.

“She cried in the grocery store.”

Your head lifted immediately, “What?”

His eyes closed briefly, “Tuesday.” Your heart sank. “Seriously?”

“She saw some cookies you always buy.” Steve looked down at the blanket, “Started crying because she thought if we bought them you’d stay.”

You swallowed hard and Steve must’ve noticed because immediately his hand found your cheek.“Hey.” You looked back at him. “You’ll be back.” he said softly.

The words were clearly meant for you but they sounded like something he’d been repeating to himself for weeks.

You smiled softly, “I’ll be back.”

Steve nodded then pulled you closer again, like that wasn’t enough reassurance, like maybe if he held on tight enough, time would slow down.

Steve pressed a kiss to your forehead. Then another to your temple, then your cheek.

You immediately narrowed your eyes, “You’re being clingy.”

“No.”

“You absolutely are.” Steve pulled you even closer, “Okay.”

“Steve.” you giggled.

“I’m enjoying the time I have left.” he said kissing all over your face. You groaned.

Steve smiled against your hair, not even remotely sorry.

After what felt like an hour of arguing with Steve about getting out of bed, the two of you finally made your way downstairs.

The house was still quiet. Blaire hadn’t woken up yet. The early morning sunlight spilled through the kitchen windows, casting long golden strips across the floor.

Normally, you loved mornings like this. Today they just felt temporary. You sat at the kitchen table with a notebook in front of you, absently chewing on the end of a pencil while you checked off the last few things on your list.

You scribbled something down that you had completely forgotten to get Steve glanced over from the stove, “What’d you forget?”

“Nothing.”

“You just wrote something.”

“I remembered something.”

“That’s the same thing.”

You pointed the pencil at him, “Focus on breakfast.”

Steve looked down at the pan them back at you. Then he abandoned the pan completely. You sighed immediately, “Stevie.”

“What?” He crossed the kitchen in three long strides and stopped directly behind your chair.

“You’re supposed to be cooking.”

“Mm.” A pair of familiar arms wrapped around your shoulders.

You didn’t even pretend to resist. Steve pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Then another and another.

You tried to keep reading your list and failed immediately, “You’re distracting me.”

“I know.”

“You have one job.”

Another kiss.

“I know.” You tilted your head back to look at him. Steve looked entirely too pleased with himself.

“Breakfast.”

His arms tightened slightly, “Who needs food anyway?”

“Steve.” You rolled your eyes.

Steve only smiled then he rested his chin on top of your head.

“The eggs.” you sighed. Steve’s eyes widened, “Oh shit.”

You immediately started laughing.

He practically sprinted back to the stove, “Jesus Christ.”

“They’re fine.”

“They’re burning.”

“They’re not burning.” You watched him inspect the pan.

“They’re a little burned.” You laughed harder. Steve pointed the spatula at you, “This is your fault.”

“My fault?”

“You distracted me.”

You stared at him then slowly lowered your pencil, “You’re such a liar”

Steve nodded seriously, “That’s what happened.”

The realization hit harder than you expected because suddenly you weren’t looking at breakfast. You were looking at Steve, standing barefoot in the kitchen, making breakfast, arguing with you over nothing.

And your chest hurt, because in a few hours, you’d be leaving all of it behind.

Steve must’ve noticed something change in your expression.

“What?”

You shook your head. “Nothing.”

The answer didn’t fool him. Steve set the spatula down and crossed the room again. When he reached you, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Then rested his forehead against yours, “You’ll be back.”

You smiled softly, “Won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“Eh, don’t know about that one.” he laughed softly.

You groaned and somewhere upstairs, a little voice suddenly shouted, “Daddy!”

Both of you froze then immediately smiled.

Blaire was awake. A second later, she appeared in the kitchen doorway, hair sticking up in every direction imaginable and rabbit tucked firmly beneath one arm.

She blinked at both of you then at the suitcases near the front door. The smile she’d been wearing immediately disappeared.

The kitchen grew quiet. Steve noticed it too, “Morning, bug .”

Blaire didn’t answer right away. Instead, she shuffled toward the table and climbed into the chair beside yours.

She stared at your checklist, then at the bags again. Then finally, “You leave.”

It wasn’t really a question. Your chest tightened, “Yeah, bean.”Blaire nodded slowly.

Steve immediately stepped in, “Remember what we talked about?”

Blaire picked at one of Rabbit’s ears, “You go school.”

“I do.”

“And then come back.”

You smiled softly, “And then I come back.” Steve pointed at you, “See?”

Blaire considered that for a long moment. Then, “How many sleeps?”

Steve and you exchanged a look. The impossible question, because a couple of weeks didn’t mean anything to a two year old.

Steve pulled a chair out and sat beside her, “A bunch.”

Blaire frowned, “A lot bunch?”

“A medium bunch.”

“A medium bunch?” Steve nodded seriously, “Definitely not a giant bunch.” That earned the smallest smile.

You reached over and squeezed her hand,

“I’ll call when I get there.” Blaire looked unimpressed, that clearly meant nothing to her. So you tried again, “And I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Will you miss me?” The question came so quietly that your heart nearly broke. You immediately pulled her into your lap, “So much.”

Blaire wrapped her arms around your neck, “I’ll miss you too.”

Across the table, Steve suddenly became very interested in the checklist.

Unfortunately for him, you noticed, “So will daddy.” Steve pointed at himself, “Me?”

Blaire nodded immediately, “You cry?” Steve looked horrified, “No.” Blaire narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

You laughed, “She’s got you figured out.”

Steve shook his head, “I am not crying.”

“Daddy cried at—” Steve immediately cut her off, “Breakfast is ready!”

Blaire burst into giggles, you did too. And just like that, the heaviness lifted for a moment.

The three of you sat down together, eating slightly overcooked eggs. Listening to Blaire tell a story that made absolutely no sense.

And for a little while, nobody looked at the suitcases by the door. Nobody looked at the clock. Nobody talked about leaving.

Everyone in the room knew there would be plenty of time to be sad later.

The rest of the morning seemed to disappear.

One minute you were upstairs arguing with Steve over a sweater he claimed you should leave behind. The next, the sun sat higher in the sky and boxes were being carried out the front door.

Reality had finally caught up. You stepped out onto the front porch with another bag hanging from your shoulder.

The late summer heat hit immediately. Steve was already at your car, loading the trunk.

You’d offered to help…several times. He’d ignored you every single time.

“Steve.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to carry everything.”

“I know.” He grabbed another box.

You narrowed your eyes, “Then why are you?”

Steve shut the trunk halfway, looked at the box, then back at you, “I’m stalling.”

The honesty caught you completely off guard. A laugh escaped before you could stop it.

Steve shrugged, “I’m not proud of it.”

“It’s okay, I like that you’re helping.”

A small voice suddenly appeared behind you, “I’m helping.”

You turned. Blaire stood proudly in the driveway. Holding a single crayon. Nothing else, just a lone green crayon. Blaire looked incredibly pleased with herself, “I’m helping.”

Steve immediately nodded, “Good work, bug.”Blaire beamed then carried the crayon directly toward your car.

You covered your mouth and Steve turned away entirely. Shoulders shaking, you both were laughing.

Five minutes later she returned carrying Rabbit, then a coloring book, then one of your hair ties, then a spoon. Nobody questioned it. At this point she was committed.

Eventually everything that actually needed to be packed found its way into the car. Then Steve reached forward and lowered the trunk. The sound echoed through the afternoon air.

The finality of it made your stomach drop, because now there wasn’t anything left to do.

The drive was waiting. It was time. Blaire looked at the closed trunk then looked at you.

Trying to solve the problem. Finally, “Can we unpack it?” Your heart immediately broke. Beside you, Steve looked away. His jaw tightened.

Blaire continued completely serious, “If we unpack it…” she pointed at the car, “…Mama stays.”

The silence afterward felt enormous. You dropped into a crouch before her, “Bean.”Instantly her face crumpled.

You pulled her into your arms, “I have to go back to school.”

“I know.” The tiny wobble in her voice nearly destroyed you, “I don’t want you to.”

The thing everyone had been trying not to say all day. You squeezed her tighter, “I know.”

Blaire buried her face against your shoulder, “You’ll come back?”

The question came out muffled. You swallowed hard then pulled back enough to look her in the eyes, “Every single time.”

A tear slipped down her cheek and you brushed it away immediately, “I’m coming back.”

Blaire nodded, trying to be brave. From behind you, Steve finally stepped closer. One hand settled gently against Blaire’s back, the other found yours.

Holding Blaire close, you stood back up. Steve’s hand never left yours.

For a few moments, nobody spoke. The afternoon sun warmed the driveway. A car drove by somewhere down the street. Life kept moving.

Even though it felt like yours had stopped.

Eventually Blaire pulled back just enough to look at you, “You promise?”

You smiled, “I promise.”

Blaire nodded once. The promise meant something. Then she reached toward Steve. Steve immediately scooped her up, holding her against his chest, a little tighter than usual.

You noticed, of course you did. The same way you noticed the way he hadn’t looked directly at you in almost a minute. The same way you noticed him blinking more than normal.

Your heart squeezed, “Stevie.” His eyes immediately found yours.

And that was all it took. The second he looked at you, really looked at you. Something broke.

His jaw tightened, his eyes glossed over, and suddenly there were tears sitting there.

Steve laughed once, embarrassed, “Jesus.”

Your chest hurt, because this was Steve. The man who carried everybody else’s problems. The man who always knew what to do. The man who spent the last three weeks pretending he was okay with this, and now he wasn’t.

Blaire noticed immediately, “Daddy?” Steve smiled at her, “I’m okay, bug.” His voice betrayed him instantly.

You took a step closer, reaching up, your hand settled against his cheek. Steve closed his eyes for a second, leaning into it.

When he opened them again, another tear slipped free. You wiped it away immediately.

No tears of your own, not when he needed you, “Hey.”

Steve laughed quietly, “I’m trying, baby.” The pet name nearly broke your resolve but you smiled anyway, “I know.”

His forehead dropped against yours, careful of Blaire between you. The three of you standing there together. One last time before the drive.

“I hate this.” the confession came quietly.

You laughed softly, “I know.”

“I really hate this.”

“I know.”

Another shaky laugh escaped him, then he shook his head. Looking down briefly before meeting your eyes again, “You better call me.”

That one actually made you smile, “So demanding.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“You better call.”

“I will.”

“Immediately.”

You laughed, “Steve.”

“Baby.” the warning in his voice was immediate. Which somehow made it even funnier. You reached up and kissed him. The kind of kiss that said everything neither of you wanted to say out loud.

When you pulled back, Steve looked even worse. Which honestly wasn’t helping, “You’ll be okay.”

He nodded, “I know.” A pause, “Still gonna miss you.”

Your hand squeezed his arm, “I’ll miss you too.”

Steve took a breath the kissed your forehead, “Come home soon.”

“I will.” and for the first time since the car had been packed, Steve finally let go.

“Hey.”

You softened immediately, “Yeah?”

He swallowed, like it physically hurt to say it, “I love you, baby.”

Your chest tightened instantly. You stepped closer again without thinking, your hand finding his arm. “I love you too,” you said softly.

Steve nodded once, like he needed to hear that more than anything else today. Then he let out a breath that sounded halfway between a laugh and something breaking, “Okay.”

He kissed Blaire’s head first then looked back at you, “Drive safe.”

You nodded, “I will.”

Steve tightened his hold on Blaire just slightly, then forced himself to shift like he was physically making himself let go of the moment before it swallowed him.

One last look at you, like he didn’t trust himself to look away too fast. Then quieter, “Call me when you get there, baby.”

This time, you knew it wasn’t a reminder. It was a promise he was clinging to.

The drive felt too long. You kept both hands on the wheel more tightly than you needed to, eyes flicking between the road and nothing in particular as the miles blurred together.

Every now and then, your mind tried to stay in the present. The radio, the passing cars, the signs for your campus slowly appearing again in the distance, but it never stayed there for long.

It kept slipping back. Steve’s voice.

Call me when you get there, baby.

Blaire’s arms around your neck.

You’ll come back?

The way Steve looked at you right before you left, like he was trying not to fall apart in front of everyone.

Your chest tightened again. You exhaled slowly, “Okay,” you whispered to yourself, like it would steady you.

And eventually you were there. Campus. Familiar in the worst way, like you had never left.

You pulled into a parking spot near your dorm and just…sat for a second.

You finally turned the key and shut the engine off. The sudden quiet after was almost worse. You grabbed your bag first then your keys. Forcing yourself out of the car before your brain could talk you out of it.

You started the slow walk to your dorm, dragging your bags behind you, passing people who didn’t know you anymore in the way that mattered. People laughing, talking about classes, about normal things, and all you could think about was how your normal wasn’t here anymore.

It was six hours away, in a kitchen, in a house, with a little girl who asked how many sleeps until you came back. And a man who said baby, I love you like it meant something permanent.

You reached your dorm room eventually. You dropped your bags by the bed and stood there for a moment, just looking around. Then you sat down slowly on the edge of your bed, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

And somewhere in your chest, where everything had been full all morning, there was suddenly a space that felt too big to ignore.

Steve had been sitting in the living room for a couple of hours. The house had gone completely still after you left. Blaire was asleep upstairs.

He sat on the couch staring at nothing, hands loosely clasped, like if he stayed still enough the feeling would pass. It didn’t. Every room felt wrong in a way he couldn’t fix. Too empty, too quiet, too much like you were supposed to be there.

His jaw tightened slightly as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Jesus,” he muttered under his breath.

Then he sat back again, running a hand over his face. That’s when it came back to him.

Your voice.

Call my mom.

Steve blinked, looked toward the kitchen and then stood up, slowly. Like he wasn’t entirely sure it was a good idea, but knew he was going to do it anyway.

He crossed the room and picked up the phone. Dialed, carefully, one number at a time. The sound of the ring felt too loud in the quiet house.

“Hello?” Steve straightened slightly.

“Hey Valerie.”

A pause, then warmth immediately came through the line, “Oh—Steve?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, then softened his tone. “Hi. Sorry, I hope I’m not calling at a bad time.”

“No, sweetheart, it’s okay. Is everything alright?”That question made him pause for half a second too long.

“She left today.”

A beat.

“Oh… college?”

“Yeah,” Steve said quietly. “I’m sure she got there fine. I just—” He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “It’s just weird without her here.”

There was a soft shift in her tone immediately understanding, “Oh honey…” Steve leaned his shoulder lightly against the counter.

“I didn’t think it would feel like this,” he admitted. “The house just feels…empty. Blaire’s asleep but she keeps asking for her and I don’t really know what to do with it.”

A quiet pause.

Then Valerie spoke gently, “When she first left for college, I remember feeling the exact same way.” Steve listened. “I kept walking into her room like she was still there. I didn’t really know what to do with myself for a while.”

A small, almost sad laugh, “But it passes. Not all at once. But it does.”

Steve swallowed, “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I guess that makes sense.”

“You’re allowed to miss her, Steve.”

That made him look down, “Yeah.”

Your mom softened again, “And you’re doing okay?”

Steve hesitated, “…trying.” That seemed to be enough because her voice warmed again, “You call me anytime, alright hun?”

Steve let out a small breath, “Yeah,” he said. “I will. Thank you.”

“Of course, Steve.”

Then he nodded even though she couldn’t see it, “…goodnight.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” The line clicked softly as she hung up.

Steve stayed holding the phone for a second longer then slowly set it back down.

The house was still quiet. Still empty. But for the first time since you left, it didn’t feel completely unbearable.

15. 𝐈 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐈𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮

steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: smut 18+, slut shaming, fluff

word count: 7.5k

a/n: we hit big milestones in this chapter

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was that Steve wasn’t beside you. The second thing you noticed was the empty space wasn’t warm anymore. You blinked a few times against the morning light filtering through the curtains before instinctively reaching across the mattress.

Nothing. Your stomach tightened briefly before reality settled back in. You pushed yourself upright and glanced toward the clock.

Later than usual, which immediately told you Steve had been up for hours.

After getting dressed, you checked on Blaire first. She was completely sprawled across her bed, one leg sticking out from under her blanket and her stuffed rabbit tucked beneath her arm. Still asleep and blissfully unaware of how complicated life had suddenly become.

You smiled softly before pulling her blanket back over her shoulder. Then headed downstairs. The smell of coffee reached you before the dining room did and the second you stepped through the doorway, every coherent thought left your brain.

Steve was sitting at the dining room table. Coffee mug, stacks of paperwork, messy hair, and…glasses?

You stopped dead. Steve looked up, “…What?”You narrowed your eyes, “What are those?”

He blinked, “My glasses?”

“You have glasses?” Steve looked genuinely confused by the question, “Yeah?”

“You have glasses.” you said a little bit more turned on than you intended. The corner of his mouth twitched, “Baby, I’ve had glasses since high school.”

You immediately walked closer, “You’re lying.”Steve laughed softly, “I’m not lying.” You stopped beside his chair and reached down to touch the frame lightly. He watched you with entirely too much amusement.

“You never wear these.”

“I wear them when I read.”

“I’ve never seen them.” Steve looked down at the paperwork spread across the table, “That’s because you usually distract me before I get this far.”

Heat immediately climbed into your face. Steve looked very pleased with himself. “You think you’re funny.” you said booping his nose.

“I know I’m funny.” His arm wrapped around your waist before you could retaliate. He pulled you closer until you were standing between his knees.

Immediately, his forehead rested against your stomach. You melted a little against your will.

“I thought you were gonna sleep in.” His voice was rough from coffee and being awake too long. You ran a hand through his hair, “Well someone left me all alone and cold in bed. You’ve been up since when?”

“A while.”

“Steve.”

“Early.” You gave him a look.

He sighed, “Six.”

You stared at him, “Steve.” you groaned.

“What?”

“It’s the summer.”

“I know.”

“That’s barely morning.”

“I know.”

You opened your mouth then closed it again when he pressed a quick kiss against your stomach through your shirt. Then another. Then another.

“Steve.”

“What?” He wasn’t even pretending to be sorry. You rolled your eyes, unable to stop smiling. Then your gaze drifted toward the table and the smile faded.

Paperwork, folders, sticky notes, highlighted pages. Your stomach sank immediately and the softness disappeared from the room.

You looked back down at him, “How long have you been doing this?” Steve’s expression changed, “A little while.”

You studied the table again. There was far more here than there had been last night.

“You’ve already started calling people?” Steve looked away. Your stomach dropped, “Steve.”

“It’s fine.”

“That’s not an answer.” His arm loosened around your waist, only slightly.

You pulled out the chair beside him and sat down. The more you looked at everything, the worse it got. Mediation notes, schedules, custody information, names and phone numbers.

You looked back at him, “When were you planning on telling me?”

Steve immediately sighed. Suddenly the house phone rang. Loud and sudden, cutting straight through the tension like it didn’t care what was happening.

Both of you froze. Steve closed his eyes for half a second like he already knew. The phone rang again and again.

Steve exhaled through his nose, “…Of course.”You didn’t move and neither did he at first.

Then Steve pushed back from the table, “I have to get it.” You immediately shook your head, “Steve—”

“I know.” But he was already walking. He picked up the receiver from the wall, “Hello?”

The shift was instant. His shoulders changed first, then his voice, everything tightened into something more controlled. You stayed at the table, watching him from the dining room.

The silence you were left in suddenly felt louder than the argument. Steve turned slightly away as he listened, “Yeah.”

“Wednesday works.” He grabbed the pad beside the phone and started writing. Your stomach dropped a little.

“It’s fine,” Steve said into the phone. A pause, “I can get that over this afternoon.” Steve ran a hand through his hair as he listened, “Right.”

A beat.

“No, she hasn’t.”

Your chest tightened without warning. You didn’t even fully understand what he was talking about, but you understood enough.

“I understand,” Steve said finally. Then, “I’ll take care of it.”

The call ended a minute later. Steve hung up the receiver carefully then stood there. When he turned back toward the table, his eyes found you immediately.

Something shifted in his expression. Softening, because he could tell. “Hey,” he said gently.

You didn’t answer. That was enough to make him move closer. “Baby,” he tried again, quieter now.

You finally looked up at him and whatever Steve had been prepared to do next, whatever plan he had for handling the school, the lawyer, the paperwork….it all paused.

He stepped closer to you, automatically. Hand going to your shoulder first. Then sliding up to your neck in that grounding, familiar way.

“I’ve gotta head out for a bit,” he said carefully.“I’ve got to go deal with a couple things at the school…and get started on some things with my lawyer.”

You nodded once, but it didn’t reach your eyes. Steve noticed immediately. His thumb brushed your cheek, “I’m not leaving because of this,” he added quietly, like he could already feel where your head was going, “I just…can’t sit on it right now.”

“We’ll talk when I get back, okay?” You didn’t answer again but you didn’t pull away either. Steve took that as the closest thing to okay he was getting.

He leaned down and kissed your forehead. Longer this time, a little more careful, then your temple. He exhaled like he didn’t want to let go of the moment.

He gathered the papers quickly, stacking them with practiced hands. The kind of efficiency that came from needing to stay in control. He looked at you one more time, “I’ll be home soon,” he said.

And then quieter, “Okay, baby?” You gave a small nod. Steve lingered for half a second longer, like he wanted to say something else.

Then he left. The front door clicked shut behind him. The house went still, and the silence didn’t feel empty, it felt unfinished.

Steve was gone. That was the part your brain kept returning to. Not the argument or the phone call. Just the fact that one minute he was there, close enough to touch, close enough to kiss you like it was normal and the next he wasn’t.

You stayed at the dining table. Facing some papers Steve had left behind. You didn’t move them, you just stared at them like if you stared long enough, they might turn into something simpler.

Something you understood, something that you could handle enough to help Steve carry the weight. That thought came in too easily and immediately your stomach tightened like you’d swallowed it wrong.

Because it wasn’t supposed to feel like that. You were his…whatever were to him. You weren’t supposed to be thinking like that.

But you were.

Nineteen.

That word kept slipping into everything. Nineteen and sitting in a house that wasn’t really yours yet no matter how many mornings you woke up here. Nineteen and looking at custody papers like they belonged in another world. Nineteen and trying to understand a man who could switch from kissing you like you were the only thing in his head to talking to lawyers like you weren’t even in the room.

You pressed your fingers lightly against the edge of the table. Grounding yourself.

You told yourself to breathe. To stop overthinking. To stop making everything bigger than it was.

But your brain didn’t listen, it kept going anyway.

Step mom.

That phrase didn’t even feel real in your head. It felt like something you weren’t supposed to say out loud, something you weren’t qualified for.

Blaire.

Steve.

A family that already existed before you. You were just…in it now. Except you didn’t feel inside it right now, you felt next to it, like you were standing in the doorway of something important and nobody had told you if you were allowed to come in yet.

Homewrecker.

That one hit harder. Even though no one had said it, your brain said it anyway, quiet and mean and automatic, like it had been waiting for the chance.

Steve had a life before you, a daughter before you….a history before you. No matter how gentle he was with you, no matter how soft he looked when he said your name or kissed your forehead or called you baby, there was still a part of you that wondered if you were something that had just…arrived in the middle of it.

Your throat tightened at the thought and you looked down quickly at the table like the wood grain could distract you from your own head.

You hated that you were thinking like this. You hated that it felt easy. Steve hadn’t even done anything wrong.

He’d left because he had to, because there were lawyers and custody and school and responsibilities that didn’t wait for emotional conversations to finish.

He had said he’d come back. He had kissed you before leaving. He had looked at you like you mattered.

And still, your brain was whispering that you were something temporary inside a life that was very, very real without you.

You swallowed hard. Your hands curled slightly on the table edge. You wanted him back already. Not to fix anything, not to finish the argument.

Just to look at you like he did earlier, like you weren’t something he had to divide his attention between and his life around. Like you weren’t standing at the edge of something too big for you to understand. Like you weren’t nineteen and trying your best not to feel nineteen in a room full of adult consequences.

Blaire woke up slowly. The soft sound of little feet padding down the hallway and a stuffed rabbit dragging slightly behind her. You looked up from the table before you even realized you were moving.

Her hair was a mess, Her pajama shirt twisted slightly. Eyes still half lidded with sleep and the second she saw you, her face changed, like she had found what she was looking for.

“Mama.” She walked straight into your space and wrapped her arms around your leg without hesitation.

Something in your chest loosened a little. You bent down immediately, “Hey, bean.” You smoothed her hair back gently. Steve’s absence still lingered in your head, but Blaire had a way of pulling you into the present without asking permission.

You made breakfast and Blaire sat at the counter swinging her feet like nothing in the world had ever been complicated in her entire life.

For a while, you let yourself match her energy. Not think, just do.

By the time you got her out of the house, the sun had fully come up.

You decided on something easy. Park first then maybe a small store nearby. Nothing or overwhelming. Just a day that didn’t feel like last night.

Blaire held your hand the entire way to the car, almost like she had already decided you were the one she was sticking to.

And every time she said “mama” in that small, casual way, like it was just what you were it hit a little differently than the first time. It was becoming normal.

The park was quiet when you got there.

Not empty but peaceful. A few parents, a few kids. The usual scattered laughter and scraped knees and sun warmed grass. You helped Blaire out of the car and she immediately tugged you toward the swings.

“Higher.”

“Not yet, I have to start slow first.”

“Higher.”

You smiled despite everything, “Okay, okay.”

For a while, it worked. Really worked. You pushed her on the swing, she laughed. You bought her juice from a vending machine, she spilled a little and didn’t care.

She pointed at everything like the world had just been invented for her that morning. For a while, your brain stopped spiraling.

Almost.

It started small. You noticed it first when you were sitting on the bench beside the playground.

Blaire climbing, laughing, calling for you every few seconds like she needed to make sure you were still there.

“Mama! Look!”

And you were smiling when you answered. But then you felt it…eyes. Not just passing ones, lingering ones.

A woman nearby adjusting her child’s hat. A man at the picnic table looking a little too long before looking away.

You felt your posture shift slightly without meaning to. You suddenly became aware of how you probably looked.

Young, too young. A toddler calling you mama like it was the most natural thing in the world. Your brain filled in the blanks for them before they even had to think it.

Sixteen. Seventeen. Maybe younger. Knocked up and alone.

Blaire didn’t know any of that. She just ran back to you, breathless, smiling wide, “Mama! I did it!”

You smiled quickly, reaching out and to fix her hair again without thinking, “Good job, bean.”

But the moment didn’t sit the same anymore because now part of your brain was listening for what wasn’t being said out loud.

You looked down at Blaire again and she was drinking her juice now, completely unaware of any of it. Completely certain of you.

“Mama” again, softer this time, like she was just confirming you were still there.

And you nodded, smiled, stayed.

Because whatever anyone else thought, it didn’t matter, she didn’t hesitate for a second so nether should you.

By the time you and Blaire left the park, you’d made a decision. You weren’t going to do this today.

The overthinking, the spiraling, the comparing yourself to every responsibility in Steve’s life.

Today belonged to Blaire. The second you told her you were taking her shopping, she’d nearly vibrated out of her shoes.

Now she was practically dragging you through the entrance of Starcourt Mall.

“Mama, c’mon!”

You laughed despite yourself, “I’m coming.”

“No, faster.”

“Blaire.”

“Faster.” You shook your head as she tugged on your hand again. She had somehow developed Steve’s ability to get exactly what she wanted simply by being cute.

The next hour was perfect. You let her look at toys she absolutely didn’t need. She made you try on ridiculous sunglasses. You bought her a pretzel and the cheese ended up all over her shirt.

She proudly informed you she was saving the other half for Steve, even though you knew it wouldn’t survive the car ride.

Maybe this was what Steve felt like all the time. Maybe this was why he always seemed calmer after spending time with her.

Blaire had a way of pulling you into whatever moment she was living in. And right now she was living in a world where matching bracelets were the most important thing on earth.

The two of you ended up in a store, you were helping Blaire choose between two pairs of sparkly sunglasses when you noticed a woman staring.

At first you ignored it. People looked at Blaire all the time.

People smiled, waved, asked how old she was,

but this wasn’t that.

This woman was staring but not at Blaire. At you. You glanced up once before looking back down. The feeling didn’t go away. When you looked again, she was still there.

Watching like she’d figured something out. “Oh,” she said. The word immediately made your stomach tighten.

You didn’t answer, you just turned your attention back to Blaire, “Which ones?”

“The pink ones.”

“You said that about the last pair.”

“The pink ones.” You smiled faintly.

Then the woman spoke again, “So you’re the girl.”

Your smile disappeared. Slowly you looked up, “I’m sorry?”

The woman crossed her arms, “Claire wasn’t exaggerating.”

Your stomach dropped. Claire, of course. Blaire looked between both of you before moving a little closer to your side. You kept your voice calm, “I don’t know who you are.”

“No, but I know who you are.” The woman smiled. “Priscilla, Claire’s friend.” There it was.

You nodded once, “Okay.”

“Okay?” she repeated.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Priscilla laughed, “That’s all you’ve got?”

You looked down at Blaire still holding your hand, still oblivious, trying to decide between sunglasses. You already knew where this was going, you just needed it to happen somewhere Blaire wasn’t standing.

Unfortunately, the woman didn’t seem interested in that. “You know, it’s funny.”

You closed your eyes briefly, “Please—”

“No, seriously.” She looked you up and down, “Claire said you were young but I didn’t realize she meant young.”

You felt your shoulders stiffen, “Excuse me?”

“What are you, eighteen?”

“Nineteen.” The answer slipped out before you could stop it. Immediately you regretted it.

She actually laughed…again, “Nineteen.”

like that proved something. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Blaire’s grip tightened around your fingers. You felt it instantly and glanced down. She wasn’t looking at the sunglasses anymore.

She was looking at Priscilla, then at you. Trying to understand.

“Listen,” you said carefully, “I’m not doing this.”

She scoffed, “Of course you’re not.”

You took a breath, “Have a nice day.”

You began trying to guide Blaire out the store but she wasn’t finished. “You move into a man’s house, start playing mommy to his kid, and expect people not to talk?”

Your jaw clenched, “That’s enough.”

“No,” she snapped. “What’s enough is watching some little homewrecking slut play family while Claire gets pushed aside.”

The entire store suddenly felt too quiet. You could feel people listening now. Your face burned. Not because of the insult, but because Blaire was standing right there.

Blaire immediately moved against your side, one arm wrapping around your leg.

The woman shook her head, “I don’t know what Steve sees in you.”

You stared at her, “Okay.”

“I mean seriously.” she laughed again, “You’re practically a child.”

There it was. The thing you’d been thinking all day coming out of someone else’s mouth.

You hated how much it hurt. Priscilla kept going, “A little whore barely out of high school trying to play house with someone else’s family.”

That did it, not because of you. Because Blaire flinched. Tiny, barely noticeable, but you felt it and suddenly you weren’t embarrassed anymore.

You were angry. You stepped forward slightly, “Look at her.” Priscilla blinked and you pointed gently toward Blaire, “Look at her.”

For the first time, she actually looked, really looked.

The little girl pressed against your side, at the confused expression on her face, the way she was holding onto you.

You swallowed hard then said quietly, “You should be embarrassed.”

The woman opened her mouth but you didn’t give her the chance. You crouched immediately beside Blaire, “Hey, bean.”

Blaire’s eyes found yours instantly, “Can we go home?” And just like that, all the fight left you.

“Yeah…we can go.” you said lifting Blaire up to rest her on your hip. She immediately tucked her face into your neck.

You stood back up and looked at Priscilla, “Yeah…I’m practically a child.” you scoffed. She stood there embarrassed as people around shot her disappointing looks.

The car ride with Blaire was quiet, you felt terrible for everything she had been going through the last couple days. Who knew a day out would make it worse.

Blaire sat in the backseat hugging her rabbit against her chest, staring out the window. Every now and then you’d glance at her in the rearview mirror, hoping she’d say something. Ask a question. Complain about being hungry. Anything, but she stayed silent.

By the time you pulled into the driveway, your stomach was in knots. The porch light was on and Steve’s car was home.

The sight of it should’ve made you feel better. Instead, all the anger you’d been holding together throughout the drive came rushing back.

You unbuckled Blaire and took her hand, “Ready, bean?” She nodded.

The front door opened. The smell of dinner hit you immediately. Something warm and comforting. For a split second it almost made everything worse because your day hadn’t been normal. Your day had been humiliating and now you were stepping into a house that still felt untouched by it.

Steve looked up from the stove the second you walked in. The smile on his face came instantly, “There are my girls! What’d you guys do today?”

Your chest tightened because for one brief second he looked happy. Completely unaware.

Then his smile faltered immediately. His eyes moved between the two of you. Taking everything in. Your expression, Blaire’s. The tension. The silence.

His shoulders straightened, “What happened?”Blaire didn’t answer. Steve frowned slightly, “Blaire?” Nothing.

He turned the burner down and took a few steps forward, “Hey.” Blaire’s eyes stayed on the floor, “What happened today?”

“No, Daddy.” she finally spoke. Steve blinked,“What?”

Blaire shook her head, “No.” The tiny voice broke your heart all over again. Steve looked completely thrown, he crouched slightly, “Blaire—”

She swerved out of Steve’s attempted grasp, grip tightening on her rabbit. Then she turned and walked toward the stairs.

Steve watched her disappear upstairs. The sound of her bedroom door closing echoed through the house. Steve stayed staring at the staircase for another second.

When he finally turned back toward you, the concern on his face had completely replaced the smile, “What happened?”

You dropped your purse onto the counter, “One of Claire’s friends recognized Blaire.” Steve’s expression darkened immediately. You continued, “At Starcourt.”

His jaw tightened, “Who?”

“Priscilla.” Steve groaned instantly then rubbed a hand down his face, “Jesus Christ.”

“You know her?”

“I know enough.” The answer came quickly, like he already hated where this story was going. Steve folded his arms, “What did she do?”

The anger you’d been holding together all day flared back up immediately, “She cornered us in a store.” Steve’s expression hardened. “She started talking about Claire.”

Another step closer, “What’d she say?”

You looked away. Suddenly finding the countertop very interesting.

“Baby.” he whispered. You swallowed, “She called me a homewrecker.” Steve’s jaw clenenched immediately. “She called me a slut.” His face went still. “A whore.”

You looked up and his expression had gone completely flat. The kind that only happened when Steve was genuinely angry. “She said all of it in front of Blaire.”

His eyes closed, just for a second. Then he looked toward the staircase and exhaled slowly through his nose, “Of course she did.”

The quietness of his voice made your chest ache. “She wouldn’t stop.” Steve shook his head, muttering something under his breath.

“She called me a nineteen year old little girl playing house.” Steve’s eyes snapped back to yours. The kitchen fell silent because suddenly it wasn’t about Priscilla anymore and both of you knew it.

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest. Trying to hold yourself together, “Maybe that’s the problem.” you mumbled.

Steve frowned, “What?”

You shook your head, “Nothing.”

“Baby,” he started. You looked away. “It’s not nothing.” he continued.

Steve immediately straightened, you could practically see him realizing there was more happening here.

“You wanna know what the worst part was?” you asked quietly. Steve didn’t answer he just listened. “None of it was new.”

His eyebrows pulled together, “What?”

“The homewrecker thing.” you laughed bitterly, “The too young thing.” Another laugh, this one weaker, “The little girl thing.”

Steve’s face fell, now he understood. You looked down at your hands, “I spent the whole day feeling like a kid.”

The words finally left your mouth, “I spent the whole day feeling like everyone sees me as some stupid teenager who doesn’t belong here.”

Steve opened his mouth but you kept going. Now that it was coming out, you couldn’t stop it.

“I wanted to help.” Your voice cracked, “I wanted to help with Blaire.” Steve froze. “I wanted to be included.” Tears burned behind your eyes, “I wanted to be part of it.”

His face changed instantly. Regret, real regret, and not because of the custody stuff. Because now he understood what you’d actually been upset about.

“Baby—”

“No.” You shook your head, “I know you were trying to help.” A shaky breath, “But it felt like you made every decision without me.” Steve looked devastated. “I felt like a child sitting at that table while everybody else handled the real stuff.”

Steve finally spoke, “Baby, no.” You laughed weakly, “Then what was I supposed to think?”

Steve stared at you. He’d been trying all day to carry everything himself and somehow never realized what it looked like from your side.

“I wasn’t trying to leave you out.” You looked away, the tears finally falling, “Then why?”

The question hung there.

“I was scared.” he admitted. “Claire scared me, the lawyers scared me, the custody stuff scared me.” Steve swallowed, “And seeing you cry yesterday scared the hell out of me.”

Your chest tightened. “I hated it.” His voice cracked slightly, “I hated seeing you hurt.”

Then Steve took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours, “I didn’t do it because I wanted to shut you out.”

Steve’s voice was barely above a whisper now, “I did it because I love you.”

Silence.

Steve froze the second the words left his mouth, like he hadn’t planned on saying them. He’d only realized he’d said them after they were already hanging between you.

Steve had finally said it to you. Directly.

“I…” Your voice cracked immediately.

Steve looked terrified now, and suddenly that was enough to break the rest of the wall.

Steve Harrington looked more scared waiting for your answer than he’d looked dealing with lawyers.

Finally, “I love you too.”

The relief that hit Steve was almost painful to watch, like he’d been holding his breath for months and only just now remembered how to exhale. His eyes shut briefly, one hand coming up to cover his mouth as he stood there looking completely overwhelmed.

When he opened his eyes again, they were glossy. “Yeah?” he asked quietly. The stupid question pulled a laugh through your tears. You nodded immediately, “Yeah, Stevie.”

Something in him completely melted. His shoulders dropped, every ounce of tension leaving his body at once. Both hands finding your face immediately, “You do?”

“Steve.”

“I know, I know.” He laughed softly, shaking his head. “I just…” His forehead dropped against yours. “I wanted to hear you say it again.”

Your chest tightened painfully, “You idiot.” The smile that spread across his face nearly made you cry all over again.

“There she is.” You rolled your eyes through the tears and Steve kissed you. Not desperate, not rushed, just happy. The kind of kiss people shared when they weren’t carrying something alone anymore. When he pulled back he didn’t go far. One arm wrapped around your waist immediately while the other stayed cupping your cheek, like now that the words were finally out there he couldn’t stand not touching you.

“I’m sorry.” The softness in his voice made you look up.

“Baby—”

“No.” He shook his head, “I’m serious.” His thumb brushed beneath your eye, catching the tears you’d missed, “I’m sorry I made you feel like that.”

The joking disappeared completely, “I never wanted you sitting at that table thinking you weren’t part of this.”

You looked down instinctively and Steve’s hand immediately moved beneath your chin, “No.”

You laughed weakly, “Stevie…”

“No. Look at me.” When you finally did, his expression softened, “I never wanted you thinking you weren’t part of us.”

That one hit harder than everything else. Steve saw the reaction immediately.

“You are.” Your throat tightened, “Steve…”

“You are.” His voice grew firmer. More certain. “I don’t know how many different ways to say it.”

The tears threatened to return. “I spent all day talking about you.”

You blinked, “What?” A small smile tugged at his mouth, “The lawyer.”

Your eyebrows rose immediately. Steve nodded, “Every time we talked about living arrangements, support systems, custody, future plans…” He laughed softly. “Half the conversation was about you.”

You stared at him. “The lawyer kept asking questions.” Your stomach dropped, “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You covered your face with both hands immediately. Overwhelmed, embarrassed. Everything all at once.

Steve immediately grabbed your wrists and pulled them away, “Hey...”

You laughed despite yourself, “Steve.”

“Baby...let me see you.” A quick kiss landed on your forehead. Then your cheek. Then your jaw.

“You don’t get to hide now.” You rolled your eyes. Another kiss.

“I love you.” The words came out of him so naturally that both of you froze for a second.

Another kiss. “Love you too.” you smiled at him, entire face heated instantly.

Steve looked absolutely delighted, “Do you now?”

You groaned, “Stop.”

“No.” His grin widened, “You said it.”

“Stevie.”

“You love me.” You shoved his shoulder. He laughed, a real laugh. The first genuine one either of you had managed all day.

Then he caught your hand before you could pull it back and kissed your knuckles. The smile stayed for a second before his eyes drifted toward the staircase.

Your gaze followed his and reality settled back over the room.

Blaire was still upstairs. Still upset. Still carrying around feelings she didn’t fully understand.

Steve squeezed your hand gently, “We should check on her.” And this time, when he said we, you believed him.

Together, you headed upstairs. The hallway was quiet. Steve reached Blaire’s door first and knocked softly against the frame, “Hey, Blaire?”

No answer. He pushed the door open anyway. Your heart immediately squeezed. Blaire sat cross legged in the middle of her bed, rabbit in her lap. A coloring book lay open beside her, crayons scattered across the blanket, but she wasn’t coloring. She was just sitting there.

Steve softened instantly, “Hey, bug.” Blaire looked up. Her eyes found Steve first, then you, then dropped back down to the rabbit.

Steve sat carefully on the edge of the bed, you settled beside him. For a moment nobody spoke.

Then Steve reached over and brushed a hand through her hair, “Wanna tell me what happened today?”

Blaire shrugged the smallest shrug imaginable. Steve exchanged a glance with you before looking back at her, “You got really quiet.”

Another shrug, Blaire’s fingers picked at one of the rabbit’s floppy ears.

Steve waited, giving her time. Eventually she whispered, “That lady was mean.”

The words barely reached you. Steve nodded softly, “Yeah, I heard.”

“She was mean to Mama.” The room immediately fell silent. Your chest tightened so hard it almost hurt. That was what she’d carried home. Not the park, or the pretzel, or even picking out fun sun glasses. Just that somebody had been mean to you.

Steve looked over at you briefly, his expression softening even more. Then he turned back toward Blaire, “Yeah,” His voice stayed gentle, “she was.”

Blaire looked down at the rabbit. A few seconds passed, “Why?”

The question was so innocent it almost made you laugh. Steve looked at you, you looked at Steve. Neither of you had any intention of explaining custody battles, jealousy, or adult bitterness to a two year old.

Steve turned back toward his daughter, “Sometimes grown ups say unkind things when they’re upset.”

Blaire thought about that, “She was upset?”

Steve nodded, “Probably.” Then he added firmly,“But she was wrong.”

Blaire looked up immediately, “Wrong?”

“Yep.” Steve nodded, “Completely wrong.” The certainty in his voice made something warm bloom in your chest. Blaire seemed satisfied with that answer.

Her shoulders relaxed slightly. Then her eyes moved toward you, “Mama sad?”

You immediately shot Steve a look. Steve pointed directly at you, “Little bit.”

Your jaw dropped, “Steve.”

He shrugged, “I’m being honest.”

Blaire frowned immediately. Concern washing across her face, “Oh.”

The tiny sound nearly broke you. Before you could say anything, she scooted across the bed, straight toward you, then climbed directly into your lap.

Your arms wrapped around her automatically, “Mama.”

“I’m okay, bean.” But Blaire wasn’t listening anymore. Instead she shoved the rabbit against your chest like she was solving a problem.

You stared down at it. Of course this was her solution. Rabbit fixed everything. Bad dreams, scraped knees, sad days.

Your throat tightened, “Thank you, bean.” Blaire nodded once, completely serious. Then wrapped both arms around your neck.

You hugged her tightly, pressing a kiss against the side of her head. Beside you, Steve sat watching the two of you. His eyes moved between Blaire clinging to you and your arms wrapped securely around her.

And suddenly you knew exactly what he was thinking. Exactly why he’d brought you up during every conversation with the lawyer. Exactly why he’d looked so frustrated when you said you weren’t part of it, because sitting here now, there was no denying it.

No matter what Claire thought. No matter what Priscilla thought. No matter what anybody in Hawkins thought.

Blaire had chosen you and somewhere along the way, you’d chosen her too.

Steve smiled softly then reached over and squeezed your knee.

A silent reminder, a silent promise.

We’re figuring it out. Together.

Dinner ended up taking longer than expected. Mostly because Blaire suddenly decided she had a lot to say.

By the time Steve reheated everything and the three of you finally sat down at the table, she was talking again. Not completely back to normal, but close enough to make both you and Steve breathe easier.

By the end of dinner she’d somehow managed to tell a five minute story about a crayon, a dinosaur, and something that may or may not have involved a princess. Neither you or Steve understood half of it. Blaire seemed satisfied anyway.

Afterward the three of you piled onto the couch for a movie. Blaire lasted maybe twenty minutes before she curled against Steve’s side and started falling asleep.

By the time the credits rolled, she was completely out. Steve carried her upstairs. You cleaned up the popcorn bowls. And for the first time all day, the house finally settled into silence.

When Steve came back downstairs, he looked exhausted. His hair was a mess, his shirt was wrinkled, his glasses had been abandoned somewhere upstairs.

And somehow he still managed to smile the second he saw you.

You shook your head and settled back into your corner of the couch. Steve dropped down beside you.

He wrapped an arm around you and began placing soft kisses on your neck. You giggled at the feeling, “Stevie…where are your glasses?” you asked.

Steve groaned and mumbled into your neck, “Baby, they’re just for reading..”

“I know,” you reassured, “but you looked so sexy” you said biting your bottom lip.

Steve hummed against your neck sending vibrations through your body, “You thought I looked sexy?” he asked nipping at your ear.

“Mhm.”

Steve pulled back just enough to look at you, one brow raised, a slow grin spreading across his face, “Say that again.”

You immediately shook your head, “No.”

“Oh, come on.” His hand tightened slightly at your waist as he leaned in again, lips brushing your neck like he was trying to distract you into compliance.

“You can’t just say stuff like that and take it back.”

“I didn’t take it back.”

Steve hummed like he didn’t believe you, kissing just below your jaw now, slower this time, deliberate. “You said I looked sexy in my glasses.”

You tried not to smile, and failed. “I did.”

Steve pulled back again, clearly satisfied now, like he’d won something, “Good.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Good?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged like it was obvious, like he wasn’t currently smiling like an idiot, “I like knowing things like that.”

“You already know things like that.”

“No,” he corrected immediately, leaning back in just a little, voice dropping softer, “I know you love me.”

His grin softened into something warmer now, less teasing, “But I didn’t know I looked sexy in glasses,” he added, like that was somehow more important information.

You laughed under your breath, “You’re ridiculous.”

“Mm.” He nodded against your shoulder, “Ridiculous and sexy. Got it.”

“Steve.”

“What?” He kissed your neck again, slower this time, like he was just…happy to be there. Not rushing it. Not trying to make it anything else.

After a moment, quieter, almost like he wasn’t sure if he should say it again but couldn’t help himself, “I really am glad you’re here.”

That one softened you immediately. Your hand found his wrist automatically, holding him there a little, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve didn’t answer right away, just tightened his arm around you slightly. Then, very quietly against your neck, “Good.”

Then, because of course he couldn’t stay serious for too long, “…because I still haven’t gotten over the glasses thing.”

You laughed instantly, “Steve.”

“What?” he said innocently, pulling back just enough to look at you again, completely pleased with himself now. “That’s important information.”

“You’re so cocky.”

“And you love me.”

You groaned into his shoulder again, trying to ignore how smug he sounded. Steve just smiled into your hair like he’d won something.

A beat passed, then his hand slid a little slower along your side, the teasing easing out of him just enough that you noticed the shift.

“You okay?” he asked, quieter now.

You nodded, “Yeah.”

Steve hummed like he wasn’t fully convinced. Then casually, like he was testing the waters more than anything

“…we could go upstairs.” You blinked, pulling back just enough to look at him, “Steve”

His eyebrows lifted slightly, but he didn’t look embarrassed. “What?” he said softly. “We don’t have to just sit here.”

Your mouth twitched, “Oh my God.”

Steve immediately laughed under his breath. “What?”

“Fine, we can go upstairs.” you said with a careless shrug.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but we’re going to bed.”

He frowned, “Well I mean…we don’t have to go to bed right away.”

You sat up a little, pointing at him. “You’re just trying to get in my pants!”

His grin widened instantly. “What? Psh—baby, trust me if I wanted to have sex with you, I would just come right out and say it.”

“You are unbelievable.” you giggled, you began trying to scoot away from Steve but he grabbed your hips quickly, “Wait, wait, wait—okay…I wanna have sex...” he mumbled.

That made you laugh again despite yourself, shaking your head as you leaned back into the couch.

Steve watched you for a second, still smiling, then softened just a little. “Please baby…” he started, quieter now, fingers idly tracing your arm again. “I need you.”

Your teasing slowed at that. Steve glanced at you, then added, more honest now, “Love hearing all the pretty sounds you make for me.”

A beat.

Then, like he couldn’t help himself, a small smirk came back. “…gonna have you screaming my name…telling me how much you love me.”

You raised a brow, “Oh?”

“Yeah,” he said, a little more confident again now that he’d said it out loud. “I know you want it too.”

You snorted, “You don’t know what I want.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” you said confidently.

“You don’t want me to stretch you out and have to cover your mouth again because you can’t handle how big I am ?” he whispered in your ear.

You studied him for a second, thighs pressing together as you imagined it. Then you sighed dramatically, “Fine.”

Steve blinked, “Yeah?”

You stood up first, pointing at him again as he followed your lead, “One condition,” you added.

His grin came back instantly. “Anything, baby.”

“You gotta wear your glasses.”

He laughed, “Deal.”

Then, as you started toward the stairs, Steve reached for your hand like it was automatic now, no hesitation, no thinking, just instinct.

When you reached the top of the stairs he picked you up effortlessly and you wrapped your legs around his waist, “C’mere.”

You giggled as Steve carried you to the room, and closed the door behind him. He carried you to the bed and dropped you onto your back. He was towering over you now.

Steve began leaning down to hover over you but you quickly put your foot to his chest, “Ah ah, remember our deal..” you said.

Steve groaned and then began searching the room frantically. While he searched for his glasses you began undressing. Your jeans and top came off first, and then you quickly shed your bra, dropping it onto the floor beside the bed.

When Steve finally found his glasses he put them on and turned back towards you, “Woah…might need to start using these more often.” he said taking in your body.

“Urgh—you look so good, baby.” you said squeezing your thighs together. “Yeah?” he teased. You just nodded your head biting your lip, “Come here.”

He was on you in no time, palming at your tits as he slowly laid you down. “Wait—wait” you said trying to sit up, “let me ride you, I wanna see your face.” you said pushing up off the bed.

“Really?”

“Mhm.” you said smiling.

Steve slowly switched spots with you as you stood up in between his legs, he quickly worked on getting his belt undone and pulled his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion. His cock springing out and slapping against his stomach.

You took his cock into your hand and slowly stroked up and down his shaft. He whined as you spread his pre cum all over his dick, instinctively bucking his hips up into your hand.

“You want me to fuck myself on your big cock Stevie?” you asked, still stroking him.

“Yeah—yeah baby.” he whined. You couldn’t tease him for much longer, you were needy and aching too.

You straddled his lap, pulled your panties to the side, and slowly sunk down onto his cock, both of you moaning in unison. “You’re so tight, baby.” Steve groaned.

You gave yourself a minute to just feel him, he really was big. You could feel him pulsing inside you. You finally began to move, lifting yourself up just enough for the tip to stay inside and then sinking back down.

“Fuckkk” Steve moaned, he grabbed your hips but let you stay in control. You began bouncing up and down his cock, tits bouncing in his face. The glasses were turning you on so much you didn’t know how long you’d last, “Fuck—Steve—you need to start wearing these glasses more often.” you whined.

“If this..is what I…get every time I wear…them, trust me I will.” he grunted each word out one by one.

“I’m so close—ahh.” you moaned loudly, Steve clasped a hand over your mouth. “Ha—told you.” he teased. You rolled your eyes, it was all you could manage to do.

“Oh Steve—Steve.” your moans began growing louder. “Are you close, baby?” Steve asked as he took control over your pace. He was thrusting up into you now, driving more moans and whines out of you.

You frantically nodded your head, mouth slightly open as whines and moans occasionally slipped past your lips. “Steve—I’m cumming—I’m cumming.” you whined. Steve began thrusting up into you harder as your orgasm washed over you, ripping a loud moan out of you as you came, “Fuckkk—I love you Stevie.” you whined.

Those words sent Steve over the edge as he whimpered, actually whimpered, he lifted you up and off of him, shooting his load all over your stomach, “Shit—you did that on purpose.” he groaned as his head fell between your tits.

You laughed as your breathing began to slow, “Maybe…”

Steve smiled up at you, “I told you I’d have you screaming.” You shoved his shoulder lightly at his cocky comment.

Steve made you cum two more times after that, each time he had to cover your mouth as you screamed his name.

Steve was half turned toward you, one arm still wrapped loosely around your waist like he’d forgotten he could let go. You were tucked against his chest, blanket twisted somewhere around both of you, neither of you really caring where it ended up.

His fingers moved slowly through your hair, absentminded but steady, like he was making sure you were still there.

You shifted slightly and Steve immediately tightened his hold without even thinking about it.“Hey,” he murmured softly.

You hummed in response, eyes barely open. You lifted your head just enough to look at him, hair a mess, face soft in the dim light. He looked the same. A little wrecked, a little amazed. Very much like someone who couldn’t quite believe the day had ended this way.

“I love you.” he whispered.

Your chest warmed instantly, “I love you too,” you whispered back.

Steve’s expression changed in the smallest way like something in him settled completely at that.

He kissed you, slow and unhurried, then pulled back just enough to look at you, “…I really love you.”

You shook your head into his chest, smiling, “I know, Stevie.”

Steve paused, “Good.”

ᴛᴡᴏ ʀᴇᴅ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ

steve harrington x mayfield!reader

warnings: pregnancy loss, foreshadowing abuse

word count: 3.9k

a/n: my first request!! lowkey so sorry if this is trash, it’s super rushed, i tried to get it out as soon as possible!

“Steve.”

“Hm?”

“You’re crushing me.”

“Yeah.” You glanced down at the head resting against your shoulder. Steve looked up at you.

The problem wasn’t that he was leaning all over you, the problem was that he had been leaning all over you for the last twenty minutes.

His head was tucked into your shoulder, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist as if you’d disappear if he let go for more than five seconds.

“You weigh a million pounds.” He scoffed, “I absolutely do not.”

“You absolutely do.”

“You’re hurting my feelings” You rolled your eyes. Steve only tightened his grip.

“Steve.” you groaned.

“No.”

“I didn’t even ask anything.”

“You were going to tell me to move.”

“You should move.”

“No.” A laugh slipped out before you could stop it. Immediately, Steve smiled like he always did when he made you laugh, like your laughter was the greatest accomplishment of his life.

“You know,” Robin said from behind the Family Video counter, “most couples enjoy spending time together without physically merging into one person.”

Steve didn’t even look at her, “We’re not physically merging.”

Robin pointed, “Your arm is literally inside her jacket.”

You looked down. His arm was, in fact, halfway inside your jacket sleeve. Steve shrugged, “Seems normal to me.”

“It is not normal.” Robin rolled her eyes.

“It is when you’re in love.” Robin gagged dramatically. You buried your face in your hands, “Oh my God.”

“See?” Steve said. “She agrees with me.”

“I absolutely do not.” you laughed.

“She loves me.”

Robin looked ready to quit. Honestly, you couldn’t blame her. Steve had been attached to your side for months, not that you were complaining. Most days, Steve Harrington made you feel like the center of the universe, like you were the first person he wanted to see in the morning and the last person he wanted to talk to at night.

It was overwhelming. Sometimes a little embarrassing. But mostly…mostly it was nice.

When Steve was around, everything else seemed smaller. The problems waiting for you at home.

Billy.

Your dad.

The constant feeling that you were walking on a tightrope. None of it felt quite as heavy when Steve was smiling at you.

“You’re staring.” You blinked.

Steve was watching you now. Concern replacing the grin he’d been wearing moments ago, “You okay?” The question was gentle but it still made your stomach twist.

You looked away first, “Yeah.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.” A lie.

One you’d gotten very good at telling. Steve studied your face for a moment longer, then he reached for your hand, his thumb brushed across your knuckles, “Okay.”

Your chest tightened because Steve trusted you.

And if he knew the truth, if he knew how bad things were at home…you weren’t sure what he’d do.

The bell above the door jingled. A customer walked in. The moment passed and Steve squeezed your hand once before letting go.

“Movie night tonight?” You smiled despite yourself.

“Thought that was already the plan.”

“It is.”

“Then why are you asking?”

Steve grinned, “Because I like hearing you say yes.” Heat rushed to your face. Robin made another gagging noise.

You laughed.

Steve smiled.

And for a little while longer, everything felt okay.

Two weeks later

Steve notices first that you’re quiet. Not in the usual way. Not the kind where you’re tired after school or distracted during a movie.

This is different. This is the kind of quiet where you keep staring at things like you’re waiting for them to change.

“Hey.” You look up from the counter at Family Video. Steve is leaning against it, arms crossed, watching you, “You’ve been doing that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“That face.”

“I don’t have a face.”

He snorts, “You definitely do.”

You try to ignore the way your stomach twists when he smiles at you like that. Like everything is fine, like it always will be.

Robin walks by and immediately clocks the tension, “Oh no,” she mutters. “Relationship issue hour already?”

“It’s not an issue,” Steve says.

“Then why does she look like that?”

You blink, “I don’t look like anything.”

Robin raises a brow. Steve pushes off the counter and steps closer to you, “You sure you’re okay?” he asks again, softer now.

You almost say yes. It’s automatic at this point but the words catch, because for the first time, you’re not sure they’re true.

“I’m fine,” you say anyway.

Steve doesn’t look convinced but he nods, because he trusts you. That trust makes your chest ache in a way you can’t explain.

It happens two days later. You’re alone when you find out. Bathroom light too bright. Hands shaking. The world narrowing down to a small plastic stick and a second line that refuses to disappear.

You sit on the edge of the tub for a long time. Not crying yet, just staring. Thinking about Steve.

About his laugh, about his hands in yours, about how he looks at you like you’re something safe.

Your stomach turns. You think about home,

about what happens if they find out…what happens if Steve finds out.

Eventually, you leave the bathroom like nothing has changed, but everything has.

You don’t tell him right away. You try to act normal, you really do.

You laugh when Robin makes jokes. You let Steve hold your hand in the video store aisle. You even let him talk about stupid summer plans like they mean something.

But now every time he says things like

“We should go to the lake again.”

“You’re coming to Thanksgiving, obviously.”

Your throat tightens, you don’t know how to exist in any of those futures anymore.

Steve finds you sitting on the hood of his car after work. He comes up beside you, gently nudges your shoulder with his, “There you are.”

You smile automatically.

He notices it doesn’t reach your eyes,

“Okay,” he says slowly, “what’s going on?”

Your heart pounds. This is it. You could lie again, you could keep pretending, but Steve is looking at you like he already knows something is wrong.

So you do, your voice barely works. “I need to tell you something.”

Steve straightens a little, the teasing is gone now, “Okay,” he says carefully. “Tell me.”

You inhale, “I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

Steve doesn’t speak right away. Doesn’t move. He doesn’t even blink for a second. For the first time since you’ve known him, you can’t read his face.

“Are you sure?” he asks finally.

You nod, “Yeah.”

Another pause.

Then he lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, “Okay,” he says again, quieter this time. “Okay. We’re gonna… figure it out.”

The words hit your chest so hard it almost hurts.

We’re.

Not you. Not me. We.

Steve steps closer, careful like you’re something fragile, “Hey,” he says softly. “Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are steady, scared, but steady, “We’re gonna figure it out,” he repeats. “Alright? I’m not going anywhere.”

Something in you breaks a little at that because you believe him.

You really do and that makes everything scarier.

For three days, everything stays normal, or as normal as your life ever gets.

Steve keeps finding reasons to touch you. Robin keeps threatening to quit because she’s tired of watching the two of you make heart eyes at each other across Family Video.

And every night, you hide the positive test deeper in your room. You tell yourself you’ll figure it out, they won’t find out.

You tell yourself a lot of things. None of them make you feel better because every time Billy walks past your room, your stomach knots. Every time your father asks where you’ve been, your pulse jumps.

You know what would happen if they found out, you just don’t know when.

It’s Saturday when everything goes wrong. You’d only left your room for a few minutes. Just long enough to grab something from the kitchen.

When you come back, your bedroom door is open. Your blood runs cold. You never leave it open.

Never.

Slowly, you step inside. At first, nothing looks different then you see the drawer hanging open.

The one beside your bed. The one where you’d hidden the test.

“No.” you whisper.

The word leaves your mouth before you can stop it. You rush forward. Dig through the drawer.

Your heart drops. A voice sounds from the doorway, “Looking for this?”

You freeze.

Billy is leaning against the frame. The test dangling from his fingers and the smile on his face makes your stomach turn.

The rest happens too fast. Billy shouting for your father.

Questions being thrown at you.

Anger.

Accusations.

You trying to explain, nobody listening. You remember backing away, remember being scared, wishing Steve was there.

Then everything becomes a blur.

When you open your eyes again, the house is quiet. The sun is gone and your room is dark. For a moment, you’re confused.

Then the pain hits. Everywhere.

A sharp breath catches in your throat, you try to sit up.

Immediately regret it. Tears spring to your eyes, and the room is spinning. Your body feels wrong.

You curl in on yourself and that’s when you realize something else is wrong. Something that has nothing to do with the bruises forming beneath your skin.

A cold panic spreads through your chest, “No.”The word is barely audible.

Your hands shake, “No, no, no…”

The realization settles over you like ice. The baby.

The next few hours pass in fragments. You don’t remember much. Only that by the time morning comes, you know. You know with a certainty that makes it impossible to breathe. The baby is gone.

The drive to Steve’s house is a blur. You don’t remember getting in the car. You don’t remember half the roads you take. All you know is that your hands won’t stop shaking.

You need Steve, the thought repeats over and over until it’s the only thing keeping you moving.

By the time you pull into his driveway, you’re exhausted. Your entire body aches, your eyes burn. You sit behind the wheel for a moment, staring at the front door.

Then you force yourself out. The porch light is on. You barely make it up the steps before the door opens.

Steve freezes, “Hey—”

The greeting dies immediately, his face changes. Concern replacing whatever smile had been there before, “Jesus, what happened?”

“Can I come in?” you ask quietly. Steve steps aside instantly, “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

The second the door closes behind you, he turns toward you, “What’s wrong?”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Everything you’ve been holding together for the last twenty four hours suddenly starts falling apart.

Steve notices, “Hey.” His voice softens and he reaches for your hands, “Talk to me.”

The kindness almost breaks you. Tears fill your eyes, you look down. Anywhere but at him because saying it out loud makes it real and once it’s real, there’s no taking it back.

Steve squeezes your hands gently, “You’re scaring me.”

A shaky breath leaves you. Then, “The baby’s gone.”

Silence.

The words hang between you. You stare at the floor. Waiting. Waiting for him to pull you into his arms. Waiting for him to tell you everything is going to be okay. Waiting for something.

Anything.

Instead, Steve goes still, completely still. When you finally look up, something has changed.

The concern is still there, but now there’s something else. A wall you don’t understand.

“What?” the words barely made it past his lips.

Your stomach drops, “The baby,” you whisper, “It’s gone.”

Steve lets go of your hands, the movement is small but it feels enormous.

You stare at him, “Steve?”

His jaw tightens, “When?”

You blink, “What?”

“When did this happen?”

Your heart starts pounding. Yesterday. Last night. This morning. The answer feels obvious, but something is wrong.

You can hear it in his voice, see it in his face. “Steve…”

“Did you even tell me?” The question hits harder than you expect.

“What?”

“I thought we were figuring this out together.”

The room spins. You don’t understand, you don’t understand any of this. “I came here.” your voice cracks.

“I came to you.”

“After it was already done.” The words land like a slap. For a second, all you can do is stare.

You realize what he thinks, “No.” Your head shakes immediately, “No, Steve, that’s not—”

“What am I supposed to think?” he asks. His voice isn’t angry. “You said the baby’s gone.”

“It is gone.”

“Then why didn’t you talk to me?”

“I am talking to you!” tears spill down your cheeks. Steve runs a hand through his hair.

Neither of you are having the same conversation anymore. You can feel it, every word is making things worse.

“Steve—”

“I would’ve been there.” The sentence nearly destroys you, because that’s exactly why you’re here.

“Something happened,” you whisper. His expression hardens and for one terrible second, you realize he isn’t hearing you.

He’s hearing whatever story he’s already built in his head. “I just…” Steve swallows, “I can’t do this right now.”

Your heart stops, “What?”

“I can’t.” The room goes silent. You stare at him,

waiting for him to take it back.

He doesn’t.

The tears keep falling. Neither of you move.

Neither of you know how to fix what’s happening and maybe that’s the tragedy of it.

Because the person you came here for, the person you trusted most…is standing right in front of you.

And somehow you’ve never felt more alone. After a long moment, you nod.

Steve opens his mouth. Maybe to stop you, maybe to explain, maybe to apologize.

You’ll never know because you’re already walking toward the door.

And this time he doesn’t come after you.

You don’t remember driving home. You don’t remember getting through the front door. You don’t remember much of anything after leaving Steve’s house.

Just the feeling. The crushing, suffocating feeling in your chest. You told him, you went to him, you…trusted him.

Somehow it wasn’t enough.

The days blurred together. You stopped answering calls, stopped leaving your room, stopped caring.

Even Max noticed. That should’ve probably scared you, because Max notices everything

but she doesn’t push.

The worst part of all of this is that you keep expecting Steve to show up. Every time a car slows outside the house. Every ring of the phone. Part of you still hopes, still waits.

Still believes he’ll realize he was wrong. That he’ll come running up the driveway,

knock on your window.

He’ll say, “I understand now.”

But he never does.

Across town, Steve isn’t doing much better. Robin notices almost immediately. One minute he’s staring at a customer who has been asking him questions for thirty seconds. The next he’s rewinding the same tape three times.

He doesn’t laugh anymore, doesn’t smile much. And worst of all, he never talks about you. Not once.

Which is how Robin knows something is really wrong, because Steve Harrington talking about you was basically a personality trait.

Eventually she corners him, “Okay.”

Steve doesn’t look up, “Robin—not right now.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

Robin folds her arms, “Then tell me.”

Steve sighs, “You think I should talk to her.”

“Correct.”

“I’m not talking to her.”

Robin stares, “Why?”

“Because she didn’t trust me.” Robin’s expression changes, “What are you talking about?”

Steve rubs a hand over his face. Immediately regretting saying anything, but now he’s started so he keeps going.

By the time he’s finished explaining Robin is just staring at him.

“What?” Steve shifts uncomfortably. Robin still doesn’t say anything.

“Robin.”

“You think she just…” Robin stops, trying to find the words, “You think that’s what happened?”

Steve frowns, “What else would it be?”

Robin looks horrified and for the first time, uncertainty creeps into Steve’s chest.

Because Robin knows you, Robin likes you, Robin has spent months watching the two of you act disgusting together.

If she looks this shocked…maybe something isn’t adding up.

Steve doesn’t see you for twelve days, not that he’s counting. Twelve days since you walked out of his house. Twelve days since the conversation that keeps replaying in his head every time he closes his eyes. Twelve days of telling himself he did the right thing.

“Earth to Steve.”

Steve blinks. Robin is standing beside him,

arms crossed, looking unimpressed.

“Huh—oh yeah, cool.”

“You weren’t even listening.”

He glances down, “Right.”

Robin snatches tapes from his hands and puts it away, “Okay.” Robin watches him for a second.

“You know…I saw Max yesterday.”

Steve freezes, only for a second. “So?”

Robin shrugs. “I don’t know, she looked tired.”Steve doesn’t answer. “Actually,” Robin continues, “she looked worried.”

Still nothing. Robin studies him, “You know she’s worried about her sister, right?” The words hit harder than they should because he hasn’t let himself think about you.

Every time he starts, he forces himself to stop. It’s easier that way, at least that’s what he keeps telling himself.

Coincidentally Steve sees Max two days later. She’s leaving the arcade as he’s walking past. At first he thinks about pretending he didn’t see her. Then Max spots him and the look on her face makes his stomach drop.

She’s angry, really angry.

“What?” the question leaves him before he can stop it.

Max laughs, a sharp humorless sound, “What?” she mimics him.

Steve frowns, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Max stares at him for a long moment, neither of them says anything. Then, “You’re unbelievable.”

Steve’s chest tightens, “What did I do?” The second the words leave his mouth, Max looks genuinely shocked, like she can’t believe he’s asking, “You seriously don’t know?”

“No.”

Max shakes her head, “Wow.”

“Max.”

“What?”

“Tell me.”

Her jaw tightens. For a second, Steve thinks she’s going to walk away.

Then she says, “You were supposed to be there.”

Steve blinks, “What?”

“You were supposed to help her.”

Confusion floods through him, “Help her with what?”

Max stares and suddenly the anger is gone. Replaced by something worse. Confusion.

The same confusion Steve feels. “What do you mean?” The question comes out quieter this time.

Max’s brow furrows, “After she lost the baby.”

The world stops. Steve just stares at her. The words don’t make sense. They don’t fit.

Not with what he remembers. Not with what he thought happened.

“What?” he repeats.

Max looks at him strangely. “Steve—cut the shit, the baby.”

His heart starts pounding. Hard. Fast. Painfully.

“Max.” His voice sounds wrong. “What are you saying?”

Now it’s Max’s turn to look confused, “She lost the baby?”

Steve feels sick. He feels the ground has disappeared beneath him.

“No.” The word leaves him immediately.

Max frowns, “What do you mean no?”

“No.” Steve shakes his head, “She—” the sentence dies, because he can’t finish it. Can’t say it. Can’t make himself put the words together.

Max’s expression slowly changes. Realization creeping in. Piece by piece. “Oh my God.”

Steve looks at her and Max goes pale, “Oh my God.” she repeats.

“What?” The question comes out desperate, “What?” he says with more concern.

Max just stares at him, like she’s finally seeing something she missed before, “You don’t know?”

The words are barely audible. Steve’s stomach drops, “Know what?”

Max looks away then back at him. Steve doesn’t want the answer, because he knows.

“She told you.” Max says it quietly, “She went to you because she thought you’d help.”

Every word feels like a knife, “Max…”

“She told you.”

Steve’s heart pounds harder. The memory crashes into him all at once. The baby’s gone. You crying. Your shaking hands. Something happened.

His knees nearly give out because suddenly he hears it. Not the way he heard it then, the way you meant it.

“Oh my God.” This time the words come from him.

Max looks furious again, “She lost the baby, Steve.”

His eyes close, “Stop.”

“You wanna know what she was doing after?”

Steve swallows hard, “Max—”

“Crying.” Her voice cracks, “Alone.”

The guilt is immediate. He sees it now. The bruises, the tears, the way you could barely look at him. The way you’d kept trying to explain. The way he never listened.

“I have to go.” The words leave him instantly.

Max blinks, “What?”

“I have to find her.”

For the first time, fear flashes across Max’s face. Real fear.

“Steve.”

His head snaps up.

“She hasn’t been home.” she whispers.

The blood drains from his face, “What? What do you mean?”

Max swallows, “Not for a while.”

Steve doesn’t remember the drive. One second he’s standing in front of Max. The next he’s throwing the car into park so hard the tires skid against the curb.

The Mayfield house sits in front of him. His heart pounds against his ribs. Maybe she’s inside, maybe Max made a mistake.

He doesn’t bother with the front door, doesn’t bother knocking. His feet already know where to go. Around the side of the house and toward your window.

The same window he’s climbed through a hundred times before. The same window you used to leave cracked open for him.

The window is unlocked. His stomach twists. You never left it unlocked.

Steve pushes it open, climbs inside, and freezes.

The room is empty. The walls look bare , the shelves half cleared, the dresser drawers hanging open.

One of them pulled so far out it nearly falls to the floor. The closet door stands open. Half your clothes are gone, half aren’t.

It looked like you hadn’t had time to finish, like you’d packed as fast as you could and left.

“Shit—“ he muttered. His eyes scan the room again. Looking for something, anything. A sign that you’ll come back.

Steve walks farther into the room and the silence is unbearable. He’s been in this room dozens of times. He knows where everything belongs. Now everything is wrong.

His gaze catches on the nightstand. A framed photograph, the glass cracked. The picture slightly crooked. You and Steve, last summer, both laughing.

His chest caves in. Slowly, Steve sinks onto the edge of the bed. The mattress creaks beneath him.

He thinks about the last time he saw you. Standing in his living room. Crying and shaking, trying to tell him something.

His eyes squeeze shut. The memory is unbearable now.

Something happened and he’d never asked what. The realization hits harder than anything else.

You’d trusted him. Out of everyone.

Billy.

Your father.

The entire world.

You chose him, you went to him and he failed you. A shaky breath leaves him, his hands cover his face. For a long moment, he just sits there, then something catches his eye.

A folded piece of paper. Half hidden beneath the bed. Steve reaches for it.

A list.

Three shirts. Jeans. Cash. Toothbrush.

The handwriting is unmistakably yours. His stomach drops. You planned this.

You sat in this room, alone and decided leaving Hawkins was your best option. Leaving him was your best option.

A strangled sound escapes his throat. The list trembles in his hands. Steve sits there long after the sun goes down. Holding a crumpled piece of paper.

Wondering where you are, if you’re safe, if you’ll ever let him explain.

14. 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭

steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: angst, sorry @louisbelongstome28 😭

word count: 3.5k

a/n: diving back into claire dramaaa

The folder barely bent in Claire’s hand as she held it out toward Steve, “I want my daughter.” The words settled coldly into the room.

Steve didn’t take the papers immediately, he just stood there in the doorway, shoulders tight, expression unreadable in that dangerous way that meant he was trying very hard to stay calm.

Behind him, you stood in shock, your stomach twisted painfully. Claire’s eyes flicked toward you again briefly before returning to Steve, “You can either take them now,” she said evenly, “or my lawyer can mail them.”

Steve finally took the folder from her hand without looking away from her. The paper crinkled slightly under his grip, “What is this?” he asked flatly.

Claire crossed her arms loosely. “Temporary custody arrangement. Separation terms. Scheduling.” A pause, “The things adults usually discuss when they’re getting divorced.”

The jab landed exactly where she intended it to. Steve opened the folder slowly, eyes scanning the first page. You could practically feel the tension building in his body with every line he read.

Then finally, “You’re kidding.” Claire tilted her head slightly, “No.” Steve looked up sharply now, “You want overnight restrictions?”

“You think that’s unreasonable?” Claire asked calmly. “Yes,” Steve snapped immediately, “I do.”

Claire laughed softly under her breath, but there wasn’t anything amusing about it, “Steve,” she said quietly, “our daughter is two.”

“And?”

“And you’ve got a college student practically living in the house.” The room went still. Your chest tightened instantly. Steve shut the folder. Hard.

“That’s not what this is,” he said coldly. Claire’s eyes finally landed fully on you this time, “No?” she asked softly, “Because from where I’m standing it looks exactly like that.”

You stayed quiet, not because you didn’t want to defend yourself, because suddenly you couldn’t stop hearing the word custody repeating in your head.

Steve stepped slightly further into the doorway, subtly blocking more of Claire’s view into the house, “You don’t get to walk in here acting concerned about stability,” he said sharply.

Claire’s jaw tightened, “I’m her mother.”

“And I’m her father,” Steve shot back instantly. “The one who’s actually been here.” Claire scoffed softly, “Please.”

“No,” Steve continued, voice colder now. “You don’t get to pretend this is about protecting Blaire.” Claire’s expression finally cracked slightly, “You think I want my daughter staying in a house where her father is sleeping with some nineteen year old girl?”

The words hit like a slap and your stomach dropped instantly. Steve’s face hardened completely, “You think I want my daughter staying with someone who thinks it’s okay to bring random men home?” he fired back.

Claire blinked once, “Wow,” she laughed bitterly, “That’s rich coming from you.” Steve didn’t move, didn’t back down, “You had Blaire in this house while you cheated on me for months.”

Claire’s composure slipped further, “Well look at the slut you’re sleeping with now!” The insult cut sharply through the room. Steve reacted instantly, “Don’t,” he said firmly.

Claire laughed again, meaner this time, “Oh please—”

“I said don’t.” His voice lowered dangerously. “You brought her here.” Silence.

Claire stared at him, and for the first time since she arrived, she genuinely looked thrown off, because he was right. She hired you, she trusted you with Blaire, she welcomed you into their home long before Steve ever touched you.

The tension in the room felt unbearable now. Then tiny footsteps. Every adult in the room froze. Blaire stood halfway down the hallway, sleepy curls messy from her nap, rubbing one eye slowly as she looked between everyone in confusion.

Her gaze found you immediately, “Mama?” The word shattered whatever control was left in the room. Claire’s head snapped toward you so fast it almost startled you.

Steve immediately turned toward Blaire, his entire expression softening despite the tension still burning underneath it, “Hey, bug,” he said gently but Blaire was already moving.

Slow little steps across the hardwood floor, still half asleep and confused by the raised voices. Straight toward you. Your heart physically clenched as she reached for you automatically, tiny hands lifting without hesitation.

“Mama,” she mumbled again, quieter this time. You picked her up instinctively. The second Blaire settled against your shoulder, the room somehow got even worse.

Claire stared at the two of you in complete disbelief. Then anger flooded her face so quickly it was almost frightening, “What. The. Fuck.”

“Claire—” Steve started immediately. “Are you serious?” she snapped, looking between both of you now, “You’re actually doing this?”

“No one is doing anything,” Steve said firmly.

“She’s calling her mama, Steve!” Blaire flinched slightly at Claire’s raised voice and immediately buried her face deeper into your neck.

That tiny movement visibly shattered something in Claire. You softened your grip around Blaire protectively without even thinking about it.

“You’re replacing me now?” she asked sharply, voice cracking slightly for the first time since she arrived, “That’s what this is?”

“That’s not what’s happening,” Steve said quickly. “Really?” Claire laughed bitterly. “Because it sure as hell looks like it.”

Steve stepped closer immediately, attention flicking briefly toward Blaire before settling back on Claire. “Blaire asked me if she could,” he said firmly. “We sat her down and explained that no one could ever replace you, but she wanted to call her mom.”

Claire looked at you, then at Blaire curled against your shoulder, then back at Steve, “You expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t really care what you believe right now,” Steve shot back, finally sounding angry again, “You yelling isn’t helping anything.”

Claire’s jaw tightened sharply, “She is my daughter.”

“And she knows that,” Steve said immediately. Claire laughed harshly, “Clearly.” The bitterness in her voice made your stomach twist.

Blaire peeked up slightly at the sound of her mother’s voice, still hesitant. Claire noticed immediately and her expression softened for the first time since she walked in. “Baby,” she said quietly, kneeling down slightly now. “C’mere.”

The room went completely still, you felt Blaire hesitate against you. That hesitation alone felt heartbreaking. Slowly, you lowered her enough so she could decide for herself.

Blaire looked at Claire uncertainly for a moment before finally walking forward enough for Claire to wrap her arms around her briefly.

The hug lasted maybe two seconds. Tiny, awkward, careful. Blaire immediately pulled back again, turning toward you almost instinctively.

“Mama, hold me?” she whispered softly, reaching for you again. Claire’s face completely fell. You picked Blaire back up carefully, heart aching so badly you almost couldn’t breathe.

No one spoke for a second, then Claire stood slowly, and whatever hurt had shown on her face disappeared just as quickly as it came.

Her eyes landed on Steve, “You better think very carefully about what this looks like before you walk into a courtroom.”

Steve’s jaw tightened instantly. Claire looked at you next, then Blaire in your arms, then back at Steve, “You wanna play house with a college girl?” she asked quietly, “Fine.”

A pause. “But don’t act shocked when a judge questions whether that’s a stable environment for our daughter.”

You felt Steve glance toward you immediately. The fear that washed over your face had Steve wanting to embrace you immediately.

You were scared of the possibility that she might be right about what this could turn into legally. Claire grabbed her purse from beside the door, “I’ll expect those papers signed before mediation,” she said flatly.

Then she walked out. The front door shut behind her heavily, and suddenly the house felt completely different.

Blaire stayed tucked tightly against your chest, small fingers twisted into your shirt while the sound of Claire’s car starting echoed faintly from outside.

Steve still hadn’t moved from the doorway. The folder remained clenched in his hand hard enough to wrinkle the papers inside.

You watched his shoulders rise slowly with a breath before he finally shut the deadbolt. The click sounded strangely loud. He rested one hand against the door for a second, head lowered briefly like he was trying to gather himself before turning back around.

The second his eyes landed on you again, his expression shifted immediately. Not angry anymore. You looked worried, still looked pale, still shaken.

“Baby,” he said quietly. You swallowed hard and Blaire shifted slightly against you, still sleepy and completely unaware of how badly the room had just fractured around her.

Steve crossed the room quickly, stopping directly in front of you, “Hey,” he said softer this time, “Look at me.”

You tried but the second you looked up at him, the panic sitting in your chest started feeling dangerously real. “What if she’s right?” you asked quietly.

Steve’s face tightened instantly, “She’s not.”

“But Steve—”

“She’s not,” he repeated firmly. Your voice lowered further, “What if I make this harder for you?”

Steve’s free hand immediately came up to your face, thumb brushing lightly beneath your eye before you even realized you were close to crying, “You are not the problem here,” he said carefully.

You looked away anyway. All you could imagine was Steve being denied custody of Blaire because of you.

Steve noticed immediately, “Hey,” he said again, gentler now. You looked back reluctantly. “I need you to listen to me for a second.” Steve glanced briefly toward Blaire before lowering his voice slightly. “The only person who blew up this family was Claire.” the certainty in his voice almost broke you.

“She cheated for months,” he continued quietly. “She brought people around our daughter. She disappeared half the time she was home.” His jaw tightened. “That has nothing to do with you.”

You swallowed hard, “But—”

“No,” Steve interrupted softly but firmly. “I’m not letting you carry this.” That silenced you immediately. Steve’s hand slid gently from your face down along Blaire’s back too, grounding both of you at once.

“She’s trying to scare us,” he said quietly. “And honestly—yeah. The age gap probably will come up.” The honesty in that made your chest tighten again. “But that doesn’t mean she automatically wins,” he added immediately.

Steve exhaled through his nose, clearly trying to stay calm for Blaire’s sake, “I’m not ashamed of loving you,” he admitted softly. “But I am scared of anything affecting her,” he finished, glancing toward Blaire.

You looked down at the little girl curled against you, her sleepy cheek pressed into your shoulder while she played absently with the fabric of your shirt.

His voice softened again, “We’re gonna figure this out.” You nodded faintly, but it wasn’t convincing.

Steve stepped even closer then, lowering his forehead gently against yours despite Blaire still between you both. “You hear me, baby?” he whispered. This time you nodded for real.

Even terrified, one thing still felt certain. None of you wanted to let go of each other now.

The three of you settled onto the couch together. A movie had been playing for almost twenty minutes. Nobody was really watching it. Blaire had fallen asleep halfway through, stretched across both of you on the couch with her head in Steve’s lap and her little legs draped across yours.

Steve absently played with her curls while staring at the television. You stared at nothing. The custody papers still sat untouched on the dining room table. Every time your eyes drifted toward them, your stomach twisted.

You hated that they were there. Hated that Claire had walked into your home and left fear behind like a gift.

The ringing of the house phone broke through the quiet. You jumped slightly. Steve looked over, beginning to get up to answer it.

“It’s okay, I’ll get it.” you said quickly. He nodded and you carefully slipped out from beneath Blaire’s legs before crossing the room.

The phone continued ringing. Once. Twice. Three times.

You picked it up, “Hello?”

“Hi, sweet pea.” Your mom. Immediately, something in your chest loosened. Just hearing her voice made your feel a little more at peace.

“Hey, Mom.” She sounded cheerful, comfortable, completely unaware that your entire day had imploded, “How are you? How are Blaire and Steve?”

You looked back toward the couch automatically. Steve sat exactly where you’d left him, one hand resting on Blaire.

He was watching you…waiting. “They’re okay,” you answered quietly. Your mom hummed. She paused, just long enough, because moms always knew, “What happened?”

Your throat closed instantly, you swallowed and tried speaking. Nothing.

“Sweet pea?” The concern in her voice broke whatever was left of your composure.

Suddenly the tears were there. You turned away from the living room quickly, pressing a hand against your mouth as your shoulders shook.

“Hey,” your mom said immediately, “Honey?” You couldn’t answer. The harder you tried to speak, the worse it got. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”

That made you cry harder. Across the room, Steve was already moving. You didn’t even see him get up. One second he was on the couch, the next he was beside you.

“Baby?” he said placing his hand on your lower back. You shook your head immediately, you didn’t even know what you were trying to say.

Everything felt too big. The custody papers. Claire. The judge. The age gap. Blaire. All of it crashing down at once.

“Sweetheart?” your mom sounded worried now. “What happened?”

Steve gently took the phone from your hand, “Hey, hold on one second.” His arm wrapped around your shoulders immediately, pulling you into him. Your face buried against his chest before you could stop yourself.

Steve lowered his head slightly, resting his chin on top of yours while holding you close, “It’s okay,” he murmured softly.

The words did absolutely nothing. You just cried harder. Steve tightened his arm around you, then raised the phone back to his ear, “She’s okay,” he told your mom quietly.

“Steve?”

“Yeah.”

Your mom sounded just as worried as before, “What happened?” Steve was silent for a second. You could feel his chest rise underneath your cheek. “Claire showed up.” he sighed.

The silence on the other end immediately changed. “What did she do?”

Steve looked toward the dining room table, toward the folder. Then back down at you, “She brought custody paperwork.” You felt his arm tighten slightly, “She wants mediation.”

“What?” Steve exhaled slowly, “She plans on using the relationship against me.”

That was somehow worse hearing it out loud. You squeezed your eyes shut and Steve continued carefully, “She thinks the age gap gives her leverage.”

The house went completely silent around you.

Your mom spoke, “That’s ridiculous.” Steve let out a humorless laugh, “Maybe.” he rubbed up and down your back slowly, “But it only has to sound reasonable to the wrong judge.”

The fear underneath those words settled heavily into the room because that was the real problem. Not whether Claire was right, whether someone else decided she was.

Your mom didn’t respond immediately. When she finally did, her voice sounded calmer, “Put her back on the phone”

Steve blinked, “Why?”

“Just do it.”

For the first time all evening, Steve almost smiled, “Yes, ma’am.” Steve handed you the phone carefully and you placed it back up to your ear. Steve still held you, rubbing up and down your back.

“Can you hear me?” your mom asked.