after being away for so long, this is just my way to express my gratitude and love to everyone who still follows and interacts with my work. i appreciate you so much! thank you for liking my silly little posts about very hot men. ♡
⋆·˚ ༘ * rules ─ you can send as many asks as you want, but keep it to one request per ask, please! take a look at my character guide before sending in your ask. have fun!
navigation. masterlist. ask box.
CURRENTLY SCREENING . . .
ferris bueller's day off ─ games! let's play cast your mutuals as, kms, ask me anything, would you rather, rec list, etc.
pretty in pink ─ ships! send me a little message about yourself and i will ship you with a stranger things character! (nancy, jonathan, steve, eddie, robin, argyle and eden).
breakfast club ─ send me a character and a concept, au, trope, song, movie... and i'll make you a moodboard and a little playlist of what i feel it would be like (with any stranger things character/ship!).
can't buy me love ─ send me a character and a song or song lyric from this playlist, and i'll make you a moodboard and write you a blurb (steve harrington and eddie munson only).
fast times at ridgemont high ─ send me a trope, prompt, concept, song or whatever, with steve harrington or eddie munson for a blurb. prompt list below!
oblivious idiots to lovers. silly prompts. smut sentence starters. summer vacation prompts. saying 'i love you' without saying 'i love you.
breakfast club — pretty in pink!au omgomg thinking of eddie being the duckie role and steve being the blane 😵💫😵💫
♡ ─ PRETTY IN PINK, ISN'T SHE?
pretty in pink by the psychedelic furs.
love bites by judas priest.
more than a woman by bee gees.
when i think of you by janet jackson.
💭 liv’s thoughts: I'M IN LOVE!! this is such a good concept and now i just want to write a thousand blurbs abt eddie singing bee gees to get your attention !!! literally all i'll be thinking about for the rest of the week
MY MEMORY HAS JUST BEEN SOLD – E. MUNSON HEADCANONS
𖥻 summary: a few headcanons about this concept about rockstar!eddie.
𖥻 pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x model!reader.
𖥻 warnings: fluffy ig. not proofread.
💭 liv's thoughts: i can't stop thinking about this so i developed the few ideas i had!! totally gonna write more about this later lmao. i hope you like it!
oh, i just posted my 900 followers celebration, so feel free to join!
DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU'RE UNDER SIXTEEN.
🎸ㆍBeing just another girl from the small and narrow-minded town of Hawkins, you were never much ambitious about your own dreams, trying to keep them as down-to-Earth as possible. But now you can't help but be amazed at how far you've come as you stare at the February issue of Sports Illustrated magazine with your picture on the cover.
🎸ㆍAll the stress you felt while posing in that sparkly and very itchy bikini was worth it, you recognize now. You don't think you've ever looked this good in your entire life, and it was certainly the achievement of all your past daydreams.
🎸ㆍYou have done a few photoshoots throughout your life, but none felt this real or this big. Those small TV commercials and good-girl ads on the interior pages of Seventeen Magazine had nothing on this. The cover meant you were in the same category as the other recognizable names in the industry, and your agent made sure that your gigs were on that level, too: editorials for Vogue, New York, Milan, and Paris Fashion Week, meetings with Gianni Versace and Todd Oldham.
🎸ㆍYou were getting big, and your lifestyle grew bigger with you. After establishing yourself in Los Angeles your routine consisted of trips to New York, couture fittings, photoshoots, parties until early in the morning, and repeat. Sleep was important, too, though it was never your top priority.
🎸ㆍEvery time you were out doing something impressive, like getting your pictures taken by Steven Meisel on top of Brooklyn Bridge, wearing only a Chanel gown and no shoes, a little voice in the back of your mind wondered what your friends back in Hawkins might be thinking of you now.
🎸ㆍIn all honesty, you were never popular, like Steve Harrington or Cindy Cunningham. You have always kept a girl-next-door profile, being nice to everyone who decided to talk to you, but also preferring the company of your intimate circle of friends and staying in, instead of attending those big High School parties. So, you can only imagine their surprise to find out that the model in one of those magazines is you. If they even care.
🎸ㆍYou just never expected to be answered by bumping into a very familiar face at the Rainbow, on one of your nights out with your LA friends. Sunset Strip was about a mile long, and yet, you two had met again as you were passing by to get back to your table.
🎸ㆍ"Hey, hotshot," Eddie Munson greeted you with a playful smile, his big brown eyes drifting down your figure before settling on yours. He hasn't changed at all. Long dry hair, slightly flushed cheeks, and that same mischievous gleam in his eyes. He wore his old jean vest, the one with the metal bands patches. The only thing that was different was his new shiny leather jacket, which glowed under the bar's yellow lights.
🎸ㆍThen, you go to sit at his table, where the rest of his band was.
Corroded Coffin was grabbing headlines everywhere in the country, mainly because of their new approach to Metal, composing elaborate guitar riffs and melodic choruses, making commercial music but with that underground edge. But also because of their Dungeons and Dragons inspired songs, which weren't well received by the older audience and labeled as Satanic. Because of this, their albums all have the increasingly popular 'Parents Advisory' sticker.
🎸ㆍThey are also known to make Nerd-Metal music, which was a genre specifically created to describe their music. Just one album out and they're already infamous.
🎸ㆍAs far as you remember, Eddie Munson already had a reputation for himself back at home, but now that he had one hundred percent surrendered to the rockstar lifestyle, his notoriety was unprecedented. He was in every music magazine, every TV channel and everyone seems to know who he is – something that he handles more gracefully than you thought he would. Eddie seems to really like the attention.
🎸ㆍWell, next thing you know, you're standing at the side stage of Corroded Coffin's gig at The Troubadour, and Eddie merrily walks up to you holding a backstage pass. I believe it's needless to say that this was the first of many passes to come.
🎸ㆍThe beginning of your relationship wasn't easy at all, given your busy schedules. It seemed like whenever you had free time, he had an interview; or when he could spend the entire day at his hotel room, hanging out, you had to leave for another tiring photoshoot. It took a long while until you figured out how to make things work.
🎸ㆍBut you have to admit that those late-night escapades to his rented room in Chateau Marmont are forever engraved in your mind. Besides the endless partying, there was nothing better than laying on Eddie's side while he lazily played guitar for you, as you shared one of those long lounging chairs by the hotel's poolside.
🎸ㆍHe swears he had never written as many songs as he did when you did that. The thought of you, laying so gracefully on that chair with the sun coming up above you, on the horizon… man, it inspires him to the max.
🎸ㆍTogether, you started to build the reputation of an it-couple, or whatever those teenage magazines say about you. All you know is that his fans also became your fans, especially the young girls. Suddenly, it was like Corroded Coffin's concert audiences became a sea of mini-yous – wearing clothes reminiscent of your style, haircuts similar to yours, eyeliner just as smokey.
🎸ㆍAppearing on the cover of gossip magazines started to be normal for the two of you. People would start the most outlandish rumors about your relationship, and according to the issues, you got married exactly ten times throughout 1994.
🎸ㆍBut your rising fame as a couple also brought the most recognized campaign of your career so far: the Guess Jeans advertisement you shot walking through West Hollywood, just living another normal day of your lives – well, with constant wardrobe changes.
There were a bunch of really good pictures, like the one of you in all-denim at a record store, holding Corroded Coffin's new album; one where Eddie is sitting on top of a random motorcycle (he tried to buy it off the owner on the spot, but the offer was rejected) with his usual jeans and leather jacket combo; and finally, one of you two walking on Hollywood's Walk of Fame. His arm is thrown on top of your shoulders as you hold his hand, and the picture captures your matching boots perfectly.
🎸ㆍEddie requests for that photo to be printed on a big canvas so that he could hang it up on his living room wall, and it's his main decor item ♡
LIKES, REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED!
eddie masterlist | main masterlist | navigation
── beep! you have an invitation to join my 900 followers matinee. take a look at the movies i'm currently screening!
[id: a light pink userbox with a pastel pink border and pastel pink text that reads "this user thinks you deserve to be happy." on the left is an image of a pink heart with a black outline. /end id]
𖥻 summary: steve harrington is in love with his coworker, y/n, and max mayfield can't stand how annoying a lovesick steve is.
𖥻 pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
𖥻 warnings: y/n is used!! it's kinda told from max's point of view. idiots in love (obv), max and steve have a little sister-older brother relationship. bad grammar ig. not proofread (yk the deal). 3k-ish words.
💭 liv's thoughts: look at me rewriting my wip list works. this is another one that has been sitting on my docs page for ages, and i finally got the courage to fulfill it. i hope you guys like it!
DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU'RE UNDER SIXTEEN.
“Look at you with your mouth watering, look at you with your mind spinnin'. Why don't we just admit it's all over? She's just the girl you want”.
People say patience is a virtue, but Maxine Mayfield begs to differ.
She doesn't believe in that "good things come for those who wait" crap, because nothing nice ever came her way for just standing there until something happened. The only thing she got from waiting around was a terrible yearning sensation of what could have been if she wasn't such a wimp. That is why Max doesn't exercise the righteous quality of patience, preferring her natural impulsiveness instead. Her restlessness is just too precious not to be used – Seventeen magazine insists on telling her that it's just a thing Aries girls do.
Her effort usually pays off, but when it doesn't, there is nothing better than a "fuck you" to tend the wounds. Rejection is always a possibility, but being disappointed because of it isn't, and with time, you learn how to deal with the negative responses… despite that, Max likes to consider herself too persuasive to ever be declined.
But she has to admit that her intrinsic sense of fearlessness can make her a little insensitive when it comes to people's fear of rejection because, to her, it's just all so simple. Though she tries to be understanding, others' stupidity can become a bit too much for her to handle, and she almost always finds herself on the verge of scolding them for their inability to be bold. It was like when she first started dating Lucas: she had a very serious talk with him about his embarrassment to complain about his wrong orders to the servers because he fears being met with a rude attitude – she still walks up to the workers to point out that his order came with pickles when he didn't want any, but just because it's him.
For some time now, Max found herself in an annoying situation. Over her boring vacation evenings, she began visiting Family Video a lot, and began picking up on something that grew to be infuriating: Steve's and Y/N's constant bullshit. Their (initial) quiet pining was cute, at first, because it made her feel like she was watching a real-life rom-com, with an exciting "will they or won't they?" plot line… reminiscent of the late-nights where she would pretend to be asleep on the living room couch to catch the new Cheers episode, to see if Diane and Sam would finally get together. Yet, as the days passed and their never-ending coyness appeared to only grow stronger, her hopes started to falter. In fact, the situation began to get so obvious that it started to get on her nerves. Big time.
She was an observer, and easily noticed the lingering looks as they talked, one getting distracted by the other's lips, or the way their brows furrowed when attempting to flirt. Or the jealous blush that dusted over Steve's cheeks whenever he saw you talking to a good-looking customer. And then, whenever you weren't at work, she hears his grumpy huffs that turn into infatuated sighs as soon as you walk through the door, apologizing for being late. It wasn't hard to miss your affectionate words about him when he wasn't around, as if talking about your co-worker would make his absence more tolerable.
What was sweet, quickly turned into tiresome when the instances of you two almost kissing turn into a daily thing. She can't count the times when she caught Steve leaning his face closer to yours, taking the courage to make his move, but right at the last second… the plan totally backfires. You either bump heads (Max physically cringes whenever she remembers the scene) or too distracted, ended up turning away from the other. Either option brought a burning ache to the chest.
The blatant crush you have on each other followed Max everywhere she goes as if she was doomed to hear about it until the end of times. Steve was never necessarily reserved about his infatuation – although it seemed like everyone knew about it, except the one person that should –, and since he gives her rides everywhere, she found herself listening to him babble about the gorgeous gleam in your eyes and your shiny hair. The guy sees you as something sacred, and yet… he never admits that he actually likes you, despite the fact that you are all he ever talks about.
To him, you are a piece of heaven on Earth, the person who understands him the most and makes him feel good about himself, among other incredibly elaborate platonic compliments.
Max knows Steve is pretty much the most idiotic guy to ever exist, but he isn't stupid. It's obvious that he just doesn't want to admit his feelings because, if he does, he will have to do something about it, and being blind to the fact that you feel the same, he doesn't want to risk it. If things went wrong, his heart wouldn't be able to take it.
The only question roaming Max's head is: he is secure, but at what price?
It all makes days like today even more unbearable.
They have been sitting inside Steve's burgundy BMW for almost five minutes now, with the clear window closed, the A/C turned up to maximum speed, and Madonna's 'True Blue' playing on the radio. After their arrival at Family Video's parking lot, Max had asked for a minute, just one fucking minute, to fix her shoelaces and Steve used it as an opportunity to daydream as he stared out the windshield. His eyes were set ahead, and she didn't need to look to know who he was staring at.
This was starting to get depressing.
"Steve," Max calls, as harsh as ever. "Stop".
As if he had just been electrocuted, Steve turns his head to stare at the fifteen-year-old. Eyebrows furrowed and nostrils flared, he defends himself, "But I'm not doing anything".
"Exactly, you moron," she grumbles. "You gotta tell her".
'No more sadness, I kiss it goodbye. The sun is burs-', Max interrupts Madonna by turning off the radio, stopping any possible distractions.
It's clear that Steve doesn't like where this is going, because his face contorts into that sour annoyed look that makes her take a deep breath. This is going to be difficult.
"Tell what to who?" pretending to be clueless, he purses his lips, but his eyes don't lie, quickly drifting back to Y/N's figure. There was no escape now, not with Max's sharp gaze bearing down on him.
"You're so full of shit".
"Hey! Language, Maxine," he reprimands, "I honestly don't know what you're talking about".
"You're in love with her," she motions to his co-worker who was still blissfully unaware of the car parked outside.
And her words rang as an absurdity to him.
"Max, for the love of-," his protest is interrupted by the girl and the know-it-all tone he hates so much.
"Steve, you're so into her it's ridiculous," her blue eyes narrow at him, hardening her expression. He scoffs, crossing his arms as he looks in the other direction, trying not to give too much away.
They stay like that for a few seconds, with him staring out the window, refusing to take part in the discussion, and Max glaring at his blushing, conflicted face.
But then, he breaks.
"Fine," Steve breathes out, "I mean, I'd make out with her… like, platonically, you know?"
The word comes out as if he had just remembered it existed, and Max doesn't buy it for a second, "You can't make out with someone platonically, Steve".
He takes her harsh delivery with a contemplating face, letting it all sink in. It wasn't groundbreaking, but it did break his argument, and he finds himself agreeing with what she had said… and he gets a grip.
"Why am I listening to a thirteen-year-old?" he mutters, in disbelief. Huffing, Steve turns back at her, already gripping the door handle, "You know what, smarty-pants? I gotta work".
"I'm fifteen, Harrington! And we're not done!"
Max trails behind him as he gets out of the car in a hurry, stepping heavily into the pavement. As Steve bursts through the glass door with the girl in tow, they catch the attention of everyone inside Family Video. He gives you and Robin an embarrassed smile, stepping onto a random aisle, trying to hide from the curious stares.
From the corner of his eye, Steve realizes that he still hasn't gotten rid of the stubborn girl, so he gathers the cluttered tapes and organizes them, in a failed attempt to avoid Max's inquisitive look. Moving the Pretty in Pink tapes around, the redhead crosses her arms, still staring.
"You should learn a thing or two about that movie, you know?" she says with a quiet voice.
"What are you talking about, Mayfield?" he asks with a defeated sigh, clearly getting annoyed by her.
"Duckie didn't do anything about his crush on Andie, and had to settle for being her best friend in the end," she spells it out for him, "While she got to make out with Andrew McCarthy. Arguably more good-looking and charming than Jon Cryer".
Steve rolls his eyes, but the situation does ring out an alarm at the back of his mind. What if… no, let's not go there. "What are you trying to say, wise-ass?"
"I'm saying," she continues, not willing to let him take a breath, "Are you truly willing to miss your shot? Stop being such a coward and go for it!".
"You talk as if I actually have a chance".
There it is.
This was what she wanted to hear.
"Steve, the girl is almost putting up a bright sign saying 'Go for it! Ask me out, you idiot!'".
Drifting his eyes away from the tapes he was organizing, Steve watches as you laugh at something Robin had said. His gaze softens as he contemplates the scene, his hesitancy quavering every time the sound of your laughter reached his ears. This time, seeing the longing look in his eyes made a gentle, sympathetic feeling grow inside Max's chest, so different than the impatient annoyance she was so used to.
"Look, Steve," her green eyes droop with friendly warmth. Though she might say that this is such a rare sight, that is what he sees every day when he talks to her. "I'm just saying what I noticed, and even if I'm wrong, which I'm not, by the way, you gotta take this off your chest. This is your chance!".
Staring down at her, he can only blink. Her encouraging words are settling in his mind, screeching as they do so, and he wonders… the gears inside his head spinning out of control, smoking everything so bad he almost can't see anything. Steve feels a bit out of breath.
But, impatient as always, Max keeps going as if she hasn't just collapsed all of his plans to stay in your friendship's comfort zone. With the wisdom that few possess, she continues, "I know you're still hung up on your Nancy-heartbreak and everything, but you're standing in your own way on this one, Steve. I can't tell you what the future holds, but I'm sure that you'll feel a lot better after you tell her about it".
His intentions to continue ignoring it all are crumbling to dust inside him right now and her words make him feel defenseless, too vulnerable to continue disregarding his own fear of possible rejection.
"That doesn't make sense," he scoffs, though his voice is soft and quiet, "Why would I want to do something like that if I don't know what the outcome is? She might just turn me down, and I don't think I could…"
Eyes drifting back to your breathtaking figure behind the counter, he stops himself before finishing the sentence. His face lit up with an astonishing expression of realization. Steve lets out another defeated sigh… maybe Max was right.
With a knowing smile, she tells him, "Because you know she's worth it".
xxx
Steve has had his head in the clouds ever since his little chat with Max earlier and could barely concentrate on having any work done throughout the rest of his shift. It didn't help that he also couldn't escape the sight of you from any corner of Family Video, and had to take several breaks until closing hours to avoid his head from exploding.
Pacing back and forth inside the employee's break room instead of helping you put everything away (not exactly the top priority on his list right now), Steve tries to muster up even the slightest string of courage to talk to you about his feelings.
Now, on top of being an absolute wimp, he can also add useless when thinking to his list.
He takes a big breath as he replays what Max had said, and almost unconsciously, snippets of Billy Joel's 'Tell Her About It' start echoing with it. The combination was able to help him make an outline of everything he'd like to say to you.
"I like you. I don't want the chance to slip away. It's okay if you don't feel the same. I just wanted to say something before it's too late", he mutters to himself, still walking in circles. "If yes, then, ba-ba-bam, charm her up. If heartbreak, retreat. I'll be fine. Fine. Just fine. A-okay".
Steve feels the same rush as he felt before going to his High School basketball matches, and he can only hope that the results will be far more positive. He takes another deep breath, shaking his arms before he walks over to the door. His fingers touch the door handle, cool under his fingertips. This is his chance. The store was closing, there were no customers around, and Robin had left early for band practice.
Let's do it, he thinks to himself.
Determined and possessed by a sense of overconfidence, Steve snaps the door open, letting it hit the wall with a loud noise. The sudden movement turns your attention on him, and he can feel his cheeks burning bright under your gaze, his faux bravado trembling below the warmth of your eyes. The quizzical look you gave made him question his own ability for the dramatics.
"It, uh, got stuck", he offers an embarrassed smile.
Good. Already starting with a lie.
"Yeah," your expression turns into amusement, "it gets jammed all the time".
The kindness in your voice makes him feel a little better about himself, maybe he wasn't being such a fool in front of you. His heart started to thump inside his chest, blood pumping in his ears like thunder as he walked closer to where you stood, just behind the big counter. With an intense gaze set on your face, he watched as your eyebrows furrow in his direction again.
"Is there something on my face?" you lift your hand up to your cheek, wiping it off in a hurry.
"No! It's just-," he interrupts himself, suddenly realizing that this script wasn't supposed to go this way. What is he meant to say now? Under your expectant gaze, it's not like he can think of anything intelligible. "It's not that".
"Oh, okay," breathing out, seeming relieved by the information, you bring your hand down. With a voice that dripped with curiosity, you ask, "Why we-were you staring, then?"
Steve feels so stupid now that he can only blink down at you, his head getting fuzzy by that cute look in your eyes and the way your lips quirked up, stifling a smile. Yeah, he's a goner.
Before he could actually think about what he was saying, he hears the sound of his voice echoing through the empty video rental store, "I don't wanna be a Duckie".
"What are you talking about?" you laugh out loud, though it's clear that you're not laughing at him. His words took you both by surprise, and he couldn't expect any other reaction.
"Sorry," Steve apologizes, chuckling along, "I didn't mean to say that. What I wanted to say was… well, by the look on your face I think you already know".
Again, he just blurted it out without reflecting on it first. But it was justified.
For the first time, he saw something different in the way you looked up at him. Maybe it was just him being impacted by Max's words, but Steve swears that he has never seen that mellow tenderness gleaming in the color of your eyes before… or at least, he had never noticed it like this. He feels like an even bigger idiot now for not realizing it sooner.
"Know what?" your question comes as a sign of your unawareness of his new understanding, and it makes a sweet smile grow on his face.
"I like you".
The three words come out in a far more relaxed way than he had originally imagined his confession to be. Clearly, his realization made a wave of true confidence wash over his body, putting him back in his element of ease. And to say it out loud was a relief like no other.
But when he was met with no answer, just that shocked look on your face, his smile faltered.
"It's alright if you don't feel the same," he reassures, "I just… I didn't want to keep waiting around, wasting more opportunities by never telling you how I feel, because if you feel the same, I really don't want you to get away just like that. And uh- I don't want to be just your friend, but it's fine if you-"
"I like you too", you talk a bit louder than him, interrupting his train of thought, without any remorse. "I, uh- never said anything because I thought you didn't like me back".
He is still, like a statue in front of you, processing the information.
And it seems like an eternity before he cups your face, the palms of his hands resting warmly over your cheeks. His long fingers graze against your temples, and just the feeling is enough to ease your hammering heart, but as he leans closer to your face, you can feel your own breath ricocheting against his lips.
Steve stares at you through half-lidded eyes, as if he is waiting for your go-ahead. And it's only when you softly nod up at him that he presses his mouth against yours, letting his lips wrap around your bottom lip in a soft, loving peck. His mind was misty with increasing thoughts of you, your candy-flavored lips, and the smooth texture of your cheeks, along with the feel of the roots of your hair on his fingertips. You were breathing in each other in your kiss, and your breath came faltering against the other cheek. It was truly world-shattering, something you had never felt before in your life.
As you slowly, and almost reluctantly so, pull apart, Steve feels a small chuckle bubbling up in his throat. Seeing your amused expression, he smiles.
"We have so much time to make up for".
LIKES, REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED!
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── hey! wanna talk? leave me a message after the beep. currently accepting requests for steve and eddie.
𖤐 taglist: @oncasette
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mav ur taste in men is truly unmatched because andrew mccarthy is the love of my life !!! he's my babygirl (and his roles remind me of steve sm) & the way he looks on pretty in pink AND weekend at bernie's plsss
𖥻 summary: steve harrington is in love with his coworker, y/n, and max mayfield can't stand how annoying a lovesick steve is.
𖥻 pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
𖥻 warnings: y/n is used!! it's kinda told from max's point of view. idiots in love (obv), max and steve have a little sister-older brother relationship. bad grammar ig. not proofread (yk the deal). 3k-ish words.
💭 liv's thoughts: look at me rewriting my wip list works. this is another one that has been sitting on my docs page for ages, and i finally got the courage to fulfill it. i hope you guys like it!
DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU'RE UNDER SIXTEEN.
“Look at you with your mouth watering, look at you with your mind spinnin'. Why don't we just admit it's all over? She's just the girl you want”.
People say patience is a virtue, but Maxine Mayfield begs to differ.
She doesn't believe in that "good things come for those who wait" crap, because nothing nice ever came her way for just standing there until something happened. The only thing she got from waiting around was a terrible yearning sensation of what could have been if she wasn't such a wimp. That is why Max doesn't exercise the righteous quality of patience, preferring her natural impulsiveness instead. Her restlessness is just too precious not to be used – Seventeen magazine insists on telling her that it's just a thing Aries girls do.
Her effort usually pays off, but when it doesn't, there is nothing better than a "fuck you" to tend the wounds. Rejection is always a possibility, but being disappointed because of it isn't, and with time, you learn how to deal with the negative responses… despite that, Max likes to consider herself too persuasive to ever be declined.
But she has to admit that her intrinsic sense of fearlessness can make her a little insensitive when it comes to people's fear of rejection because, to her, it's just all so simple. Though she tries to be understanding, others' stupidity can become a bit too much for her to handle, and she almost always finds herself on the verge of scolding them for their inability to be bold. It was like when she first started dating Lucas: she had a very serious talk with him about his embarrassment to complain about his wrong orders to the servers because he fears being met with a rude attitude – she still walks up to the workers to point out that his order came with pickles when he didn't want any, but just because it's him.
For some time now, Max found herself in an annoying situation. Over her boring vacation evenings, she began visiting Family Video a lot, and began picking up on something that grew to be infuriating: Steve's and Y/N's constant bullshit. Their (initial) quiet pining was cute, at first, because it made her feel like she was watching a real-life rom-com, with an exciting "will they or won't they?" plot line… reminiscent of the late-nights where she would pretend to be asleep on the living room couch to catch the new Cheers episode, to see if Diane and Sam would finally get together. Yet, as the days passed and their never-ending coyness appeared to only grow stronger, her hopes started to falter. In fact, the situation began to get so obvious that it started to get on her nerves. Big time.
She was an observer, and easily noticed the lingering looks as they talked, one getting distracted by the other's lips, or the way their brows furrowed when attempting to flirt. Or the jealous blush that dusted over Steve's cheeks whenever he saw you talking to a good-looking customer. And then, whenever you weren't at work, she hears his grumpy huffs that turn into infatuated sighs as soon as you walk through the door, apologizing for being late. It wasn't hard to miss your affectionate words about him when he wasn't around, as if talking about your co-worker would make his absence more tolerable.
What was sweet, quickly turned into tiresome when the instances of you two almost kissing turn into a daily thing. She can't count the times when she caught Steve leaning his face closer to yours, taking the courage to make his move, but right at the last second… the plan totally backfires. You either bump heads (Max physically cringes whenever she remembers the scene) or too distracted, ended up turning away from the other. Either option brought a burning ache to the chest.
The blatant crush you have on each other followed Max everywhere she goes as if she was doomed to hear about it until the end of times. Steve was never necessarily reserved about his infatuation – although it seemed like everyone knew about it, except the one person that should –, and since he gives her rides everywhere, she found herself listening to him babble about the gorgeous gleam in your eyes and your shiny hair. The guy sees you as something sacred, and yet… he never admits that he actually likes you, despite the fact that you are all he ever talks about.
To him, you are a piece of heaven on Earth, the person who understands him the most and makes him feel good about himself, among other incredibly elaborate platonic compliments.
Max knows Steve is pretty much the most idiotic guy to ever exist, but he isn't stupid. It's obvious that he just doesn't want to admit his feelings because, if he does, he will have to do something about it, and being blind to the fact that you feel the same, he doesn't want to risk it. If things went wrong, his heart wouldn't be able to take it.
The only question roaming Max's head is: he is secure, but at what price?
It all makes days like today even more unbearable.
They have been sitting inside Steve's burgundy BMW for almost five minutes now, with the clear window closed, the A/C turned up to maximum speed, and Madonna's 'True Blue' playing on the radio. After their arrival at Family Video's parking lot, Max had asked for a minute, just one fucking minute, to fix her shoelaces and Steve used it as an opportunity to daydream as he stared out the windshield. His eyes were set ahead, and she didn't need to look to know who he was staring at.
This was starting to get depressing.
"Steve," Max calls, as harsh as ever. "Stop".
As if he had just been electrocuted, Steve turns his head to stare at the fifteen-year-old. Eyebrows furrowed and nostrils flared, he defends himself, "But I'm not doing anything".
"Exactly, you moron," she grumbles. "You gotta tell her".
'No more sadness, I kiss it goodbye. The sun is burs-', Max interrupts Madonna by turning off the radio, stopping any possible distractions.
It's clear that Steve doesn't like where this is going, because his face contorts into that sour annoyed look that makes her take a deep breath. This is going to be difficult.
"Tell what to who?" pretending to be clueless, he purses his lips, but his eyes don't lie, quickly drifting back to Y/N's figure. There was no escape now, not with Max's sharp gaze bearing down on him.
"You're so full of shit".
"Hey! Language, Maxine," he reprimands, "I honestly don't know what you're talking about".
"You're in love with her," she motions to his co-worker who was still blissfully unaware of the car parked outside.
And her words rang as an absurdity to him.
"Max, for the love of-," his protest is interrupted by the girl and the know-it-all tone he hates so much.
"Steve, you're so into her it's ridiculous," her blue eyes narrow at him, hardening her expression. He scoffs, crossing his arms as he looks in the other direction, trying not to give too much away.
They stay like that for a few seconds, with him staring out the window, refusing to take part in the discussion, and Max glaring at his blushing, conflicted face.
But then, he breaks.
"Fine," Steve breathes out, "I mean, I'd make out with her… like, platonically, you know?"
The word comes out as if he had just remembered it existed, and Max doesn't buy it for a second, "You can't make out with someone platonically, Steve".
He takes her harsh delivery with a contemplating face, letting it all sink in. It wasn't groundbreaking, but it did break his argument, and he finds himself agreeing with what she had said… and he gets a grip.
"Why am I listening to a thirteen-year-old?" he mutters, in disbelief. Huffing, Steve turns back at her, already gripping the door handle, "You know what, smarty-pants? I gotta work".
"I'm fifteen, Harrington! And we're not done!"
Max trails behind him as he gets out of the car in a hurry, stepping heavily into the pavement. As Steve bursts through the glass door with the girl in tow, they catch the attention of everyone inside Family Video. He gives you and Robin an embarrassed smile, stepping onto a random aisle, trying to hide from the curious stares.
From the corner of his eye, Steve realizes that he still hasn't gotten rid of the stubborn girl, so he gathers the cluttered tapes and organizes them, in a failed attempt to avoid Max's inquisitive look. Moving the Pretty in Pink tapes around, the redhead crosses her arms, still staring.
"You should learn a thing or two about that movie, you know?" she says with a quiet voice.
"What are you talking about, Mayfield?" he asks with a defeated sigh, clearly getting annoyed by her.
"Duckie didn't do anything about his crush on Andie, and had to settle for being her best friend in the end," she spells it out for him, "While she got to make out with Andrew McCarthy. Arguably more good-looking and charming than Jon Cryer".
Steve rolls his eyes, but the situation does ring out an alarm at the back of his mind. What if… no, let's not go there. "What are you trying to say, wise-ass?"
"I'm saying," she continues, not willing to let him take a breath, "Are you truly willing to miss your shot? Stop being such a coward and go for it!".
"You talk as if I actually have a chance".
There it is.
This was what she wanted to hear.
"Steve, the girl is almost putting up a bright sign saying 'Go for it! Ask me out, you idiot!'".
Drifting his eyes away from the tapes he was organizing, Steve watches as you laugh at something Robin had said. His gaze softens as he contemplates the scene, his hesitancy quavering every time the sound of your laughter reached his ears. This time, seeing the longing look in his eyes made a gentle, sympathetic feeling grow inside Max's chest, so different than the impatient annoyance she was so used to.
"Look, Steve," her green eyes droop with friendly warmth. Though she might say that this is such a rare sight, that is what he sees every day when he talks to her. "I'm just saying what I noticed, and even if I'm wrong, which I'm not, by the way, you gotta take this off your chest. This is your chance!".
Staring down at her, he can only blink. Her encouraging words are settling in his mind, screeching as they do so, and he wonders… the gears inside his head spinning out of control, smoking everything so bad he almost can't see anything. Steve feels a bit out of breath.
But, impatient as always, Max keeps going as if she hasn't just collapsed all of his plans to stay in your friendship's comfort zone. With the wisdom that few possess, she continues, "I know you're still hung up on your Nancy-heartbreak and everything, but you're standing in your own way on this one, Steve. I can't tell you what the future holds, but I'm sure that you'll feel a lot better after you tell her about it".
His intentions to continue ignoring it all are crumbling to dust inside him right now and her words make him feel defenseless, too vulnerable to continue disregarding his own fear of possible rejection.
"That doesn't make sense," he scoffs, though his voice is soft and quiet, "Why would I want to do something like that if I don't know what the outcome is? She might just turn me down, and I don't think I could…"
Eyes drifting back to your breathtaking figure behind the counter, he stops himself before finishing the sentence. His face lit up with an astonishing expression of realization. Steve lets out another defeated sigh… maybe Max was right.
With a knowing smile, she tells him, "Because you know she's worth it".
xxx
Steve has had his head in the clouds ever since his little chat with Max earlier and could barely concentrate on having any work done throughout the rest of his shift. It didn't help that he also couldn't escape the sight of you from any corner of Family Video, and had to take several breaks until closing hours to avoid his head from exploding.
Pacing back and forth inside the employee's break room instead of helping you put everything away (not exactly the top priority on his list right now), Steve tries to muster up even the slightest string of courage to talk to you about his feelings.
Now, on top of being an absolute wimp, he can also add useless when thinking to his list.
He takes a big breath as he replays what Max had said, and almost unconsciously, snippets of Billy Joel's 'Tell Her About It' start echoing with it. The combination was able to help him make an outline of everything he'd like to say to you.
"I like you. I don't want the chance to slip away. It's okay if you don't feel the same. I just wanted to say something before it's too late", he mutters to himself, still walking in circles. "If yes, then, ba-ba-bam, charm her up. If heartbreak, retreat. I'll be fine. Fine. Just fine. A-okay".
Steve feels the same rush as he felt before going to his High School basketball matches, and he can only hope that the results will be far more positive. He takes another deep breath, shaking his arms before he walks over to the door. His fingers touch the door handle, cool under his fingertips. This is his chance. The store was closing, there were no customers around, and Robin had left early for band practice.
Let's do it, he thinks to himself.
Determined and possessed by a sense of overconfidence, Steve snaps the door open, letting it hit the wall with a loud noise. The sudden movement turns your attention on him, and he can feel his cheeks burning bright under your gaze, his faux bravado trembling below the warmth of your eyes. The quizzical look you gave made him question his own ability for the dramatics.
"It, uh, got stuck", he offers an embarrassed smile.
Good. Already starting with a lie.
"Yeah," your expression turns into amusement, "it gets jammed all the time".
The kindness in your voice makes him feel a little better about himself, maybe he wasn't being such a fool in front of you. His heart started to thump inside his chest, blood pumping in his ears like thunder as he walked closer to where you stood, just behind the big counter. With an intense gaze set on your face, he watched as your eyebrows furrow in his direction again.
"Is there something on my face?" you lift your hand up to your cheek, wiping it off in a hurry.
"No! It's just-," he interrupts himself, suddenly realizing that this script wasn't supposed to go this way. What is he meant to say now? Under your expectant gaze, it's not like he can think of anything intelligible. "It's not that".
"Oh, okay," breathing out, seeming relieved by the information, you bring your hand down. With a voice that dripped with curiosity, you ask, "Why we-were you staring, then?"
Steve feels so stupid now that he can only blink down at you, his head getting fuzzy by that cute look in your eyes and the way your lips quirked up, stifling a smile. Yeah, he's a goner.
Before he could actually think about what he was saying, he hears the sound of his voice echoing through the empty video rental store, "I don't wanna be a Duckie".
"What are you talking about?" you laugh out loud, though it's clear that you're not laughing at him. His words took you both by surprise, and he couldn't expect any other reaction.
"Sorry," Steve apologizes, chuckling along, "I didn't mean to say that. What I wanted to say was… well, by the look on your face I think you already know".
Again, he just blurted it out without reflecting on it first. But it was justified.
For the first time, he saw something different in the way you looked up at him. Maybe it was just him being impacted by Max's words, but Steve swears that he has never seen that mellow tenderness gleaming in the color of your eyes before… or at least, he had never noticed it like this. He feels like an even bigger idiot now for not realizing it sooner.
"Know what?" your question comes as a sign of your unawareness of his new understanding, and it makes a sweet smile grow on his face.
"I like you".
The three words come out in a far more relaxed way than he had originally imagined his confession to be. Clearly, his realization made a wave of true confidence wash over his body, putting him back in his element of ease. And to say it out loud was a relief like no other.
But when he was met with no answer, just that shocked look on your face, his smile faltered.
"It's alright if you don't feel the same," he reassures, "I just… I didn't want to keep waiting around, wasting more opportunities by never telling you how I feel, because if you feel the same, I really don't want you to get away just like that. And uh- I don't want to be just your friend, but it's fine if you-"
"I like you too", you talk a bit louder than him, interrupting his train of thought, without any remorse. "I, uh- never said anything because I thought you didn't like me back".
He is still, like a statue in front of you, processing the information.
And it seems like an eternity before he cups your face, the palms of his hands resting warmly over your cheeks. His long fingers graze against your temples, and just the feeling is enough to ease your hammering heart, but as he leans closer to your face, you can feel your own breath ricocheting against his lips.
Steve stares at you through half-lidded eyes, as if he is waiting for your go-ahead. And it's only when you softly nod up at him that he presses his mouth against yours, letting his lips wrap around your bottom lip in a soft, loving peck. His mind was misty with increasing thoughts of you, your candy-flavored lips, and the smooth texture of your cheeks, along with the feel of the roots of your hair on his fingertips. You were breathing in each other in your kiss, and your breath came faltering against the other cheek. It was truly world-shattering, something you had never felt before in your life.
As you slowly, and almost reluctantly so, pull apart, Steve feels a small chuckle bubbling up in his throat. Seeing your amused expression, he smiles.
"We have so much time to make up for".
LIKES, REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED!
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listening to centerfold by the j. geils band and thinking about reader, hawkins’ resident girl-next-door, going to los angeles fresh out of high school to get her modeling career started. and by the time she makes it big, being on the cover of 1990’s sports illustrated and doing big campaigns for vogue, she reunites with eddie munson after they bump into each other at the rainbow, in sunset strip. he is grabbing headlines all over the country for being corroded coffin’s lead singer, a rising controversial figure, known for his wild frontman qualities and (apparent) profane music lyrics.
What about Steve trying to teach his 4 year old daughter how to swim and maybe he’s really comforting
this is so sweet :(
steve always dreamt of practicing sports with his future kids. he had spent an embarrassing amount of time daydreaming about future scenarios where he teaches his children how to dribble, or maybe how to hold a baseball bat without being brought down by its weight.
but throughout all of those years he spent thinking about being the cool athletic dad, he had never even phantom the idea of teaching his daughter how to swim because she wants to be a mermaid.
there's nothing wrong with it, but he thinks she might be watching the little mermaid a bit too much lately.
being who he is, he also would never imagine saying 'no' to his little girl. especially when she had asked him so sweetly, with the brightest, most excited smile on her face. and that is why he's standing in the pool, with amelia in his arms, leaning her back on his chest. she doesn't seem to like it, because she keeps whining and kicking her little legs.
well, the kicks were part of the exercise, but the strength she was using certainly was not. the water splashed everywhere, and even steve's face was starting to get wet.
"it's fine, cutie," steve holds amelia tight to his chest, standing by the middle of the swimming pool, trying to get her used to being inside the water.
"it's not fine, daddy! it's cold!" the little girl exclaims, her legs already kicking heavily against the water. her voice starting to crack right at the end, which was a clear sign of 'caution: temper tantrum incoming'.
"millie, sweetheart, we haven't even started yet," soft-spoken, his voice feels almost like a warm hug. it does calm her down a little, but it doesn't mean steve's completely off the hook yet.
amelia had a natural short temper that could only be controlled by her father. it was almost like an unspoken thing between the two of them; she would whine and complain when things didn't go how she wanted, and steve always soothed it all, as his patience would miraculously grow infinite.
she scrunches her nose, another indication of her grumpiness.
"can i sit down by the edge, please?" amelia was always very polite when upset, and it never failed to amuse him.
nodding, he walks with her to the edge of the pool, sitting her small body there, with little effort. catching sight of her pouty face, the dad asks, "what's with the frown, pumpkin? don't wanna be a mermaid no more?"
"it's just... cold".
"uh huh," steve doesn't buy it for a second, especially when he notices the hesitancy on her brown eyes, growing to be so similar to his. "it has nothing to do with you starting to get scared, does it?"
she widens her eyes at him, like he had just figured out the only secret she was trying to hide. overdramatic, as always. with her chubby cheeks reddening, amy shakes her head, denying it, but the bashful smile on her lips tells steve otherwise.
"there's nothing to be afraid of, cutie. it's just water," he shrugs a little, trying to ease her fear, "you take baths all the time, you know how it's like".
"daddy, it's not the same!" she says through an adorable fit of giggles. steve playfully rolls his eyes, making her laugh even more.
"yeah, yeah, it is," smiling, he puts one of his hands on his hip, looking at her as she calms down. "what you're scared of? is it because it's deep?"
more comfortable now, amelia nods her head, but she feels like adding, "i don't want to get water up my nose".
steve's eyebrows shot up, surprised by the discovery. "we can fix that, mills. d'you trust me?"
the little girl eagerly nods her head, getting excited all over again, just like she was this morning. steve gives her a short chuckle.
"alright. so, you have to hold your breath. like this," he shows her by taking a big inhale, stuffing his stomach, and puffing his cheeks, holding the air in. he watches as his daughter does the same, and he nods approvingly, "and when you come back up from the water, you just..."
steve lets out the remaining air from his lungs in a loud exhale, and amelia copies him, her reddened cheeks flattening again.
"wanna try going for a dip? i'll hold you," steve suggests, just to see if she is willing to attempt. when she comes back up, he'll continue the failed kicks practice.
luckily for him, just the proposal is enough for her to smile with delight, thrilled to get to try it. and watching the way her eyes light up, is enough to make his upper body shake with laughter.
"alright. c'mon now, ariel," he holds his arms out for her.
thinking about giving steve a handjob behind family video’s counter
after he's had an absolute terror of a day, having to deal with difficult customers and with watching you move around the store wearing those tight jeans without being able to do anything about it. by the end of his shift, he's on the verge of tears, feeling so frustrated that he just wants to go home.
taking pity for the desolate look in his eyes, seeing how they droop and are glossy with tiredness, you decide to be nice to him. and what started out as a passionate make-out session turns into him bucking his hips into your hand as your body is pressed against the hard edge of the store's counter.
the relieved sigh that leaves his lips once your hand barely brushes his cock it's enough to make your knees tremble as he hovers over you. he can't even keep his eyes open to look down at your pretty hand around him because that would be too much for him to handle. especially when his head starts to get dizzy by the feeling of you, taking in your comforting fragrance and the steadiness of your movements.
steve can't even think about the way that he's moaning. hoarse whimpers that come out burning his throat, desperate whines that curl his lip and make him throw his head back, begging sentences that are almost never finished. "it feels so-" his own words get run over by a squeaky moan that fights its way out of him.
he leans down his head to draw you in for a peck on your lips, that lasts longer than both of you had anticipated. and soon the simplicity of the kiss shifts into a mess when his tongue brushes against yours, starting a filthy open-mouthed kiss – steve's favorite.
his moans have gotten to the point where they don't even have sounds anymore, and it's just him, lost in the increasing movement of your hand pumping him, with his mouth hanging open. <3
𖥻 summary: the party meets y/n and steve's firstborn.
𖥻 pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
𖥻 warnings: girl dad!steve. the baby's name is amelia. too much fluff. everyone is alive and well thank you. one dirty dancing reference. bad grammar, italics & not proofread (hey it's me). 2k-ish words. weird divs :/
💭 liv's thoughts: this is based on an idea i had last year (s4 i miss you) and a sequel of sorts to my 'all is well universe' of sunny days that won't ever end – you don't have to read it, but pls do it's v sweet. i hope you like it! <3
DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU'RE UNDER SIXTEEN.
The sound of loud chattering could be heard from the end of the hallway, which wasn't surprising, given the number of people that were sharing the limited space of the apartment's living room. The kids – can you even call them that anymore? – were never known for their ability to speak quietly whenever they were together. However, everyone seemed to be in such a good mood that you can even hear the loud sound of Jonathan's laugh. There's a first time for everything, right?
You held the small baby in your arms, walking in slow steps out of her little nursery. Though you tried not to disturb your daughter too much, Amelia already had her big brown eyes open and searching for the source of all that noise. She wasn't used to such noises, being too accustomed to her parents' soft-spoken voices and the entertaining sound of their television – that didn't play anything other than Steve's recordings of Barney episodes. It's only natural that she finds the commotion strange.
As you arrive in the living room, you are greeted by Steve in his typical mom pose, hands on his hips as he watches Michael and Max's every move, anxiously waiting for his girls. From his stance, you can see that he already regrets the idea of inviting everyone over. Taking in the very worried furrow of his eyebrows, you just know that he is going over the most pessimistic thoughts as he looks at the crowded living room.
Appearing with the small baby in your arms, everyone gasped in surprise and amazement, including Steve, who quickly made his way over to you with the goofiest, most endearing smile. His big hands wrap around Amelia's small frame, as he leans down to take her from your arms. He has that sweet look on his face, that brightens even more when he sees the chubbiness of the baby's laughing cheeks. Delicately, like he's carrying the world's most precious jewel (he is!), your husband shows Amy to everyone, with a proud glimmer in his eyes.
"There she is!" he maneuvers her chubby body tenderly, making the baby sit on his arm to face everyone. Her upper body leaned on his chest for support, and she squealed happily when her curious eyes noticed how many people were in their living room. Unhesitating, Steve translates it to everyone, "Millie says hi".
That was enough to erupt a string of awws, sighs and one high-pitched "she's so adorable!" from Eddie. It was funny to see how a human being so small had everyone wrapped around her tiny little finger. Even Max, who usually had a hard time showing any emotion other than pure annoyance, was goofily smiling at the baby, admiring her brown (and very full) hair and round cheeks.
The kids were the most eager to get to know Amelia, with Dustin being the spokesman for their wishes, telephoning almost every day since the baby was born to ask when they could meet her. So, it's no surprise that the first person to make grabby hands to hold her next was Henderson himself. "C'mon, Steve, let me hold my goddaughter!" he exclaims as he looks at your girl in absolute awe.
"Your goddaughter?" Eddie asks, scoffing from his seat at the couch's armrest, next to the boy. "Yeah, right".
"Guys," Robin quickly intervenes, rolling her eyes as she watches the two bickering all over again over the matter. She was seated comfortably in the chair by your living room's small table, alongside Vicky. "Not this again, please?"
That wasn't enough to silence Eddie and Dustin, who began to argue harder about who is supposed to be the baby's godfather. The usual arguments were professed, "You're not old enough!", "but I'm the most mature!", "The baby's lullaby shouldn't be Dio!", "And it shouldn't be Weird Al Yankovic either!"
Given that he couldn't clap, Steve stomped his foot on the ground as he commanded the room's attention to him again, "Hey, hey, hey!" he exclaimed, letting out a satisfied breath when everyone falls silent again. "So, before we let you hold our daughter, I'd like to go over some rules-".
Loud groans erupt from everyone's mouths, and Amelia looks up at her dad, even more curious.
The kids were squished on the living room's small couch, surprisingly fitting in the space where you and Steve had a hard time adjusting in. Eleven was sitting on the side of the couch's armrest, patiently kicking her feet as Mike, Will, and Dustin elbowed each other in a silent fight for more space by her side. At the end of the couch, Max, Lucas and Erica found a way to position themselves without struggling too much. It was so crowded that poor Suzy had to sit on an old puff that Steve had bought in a garage sale when you moved in together ("It'll come in handy one day, you'll see!" Steve exclaimed while he walked off the sale holding the object, victoriously), right at Dustin's feet. On one side of the sofa, Eddie was slouched on the armrest, while Nancy sat on the other, as put-together as ever. Near her, Jonathan leaned against the apartment's wall, chatting with Argyle and Eden.
Amelia was carefully handed to Dustin, who sat in the middle of the couch. You figured it was the best position to have everyone look at her, an democratic decision, but it was still possible to hear Eddie complaining under his breath.
Your daughter got used to Dustin's hold fast, only shifting her tiny body over his arms a couple of times to find her position. When she did, Amy made one of those adorable baby sounds, showing everyone that she was incredibly satisfied now; and it was like the world had stopped for all of them. The only thing that mattered was to witness baby Harrington simply exist. Feasting your eyes on the scene, you hold Steve's waist, hugging him from behind as you rest your face against his arm, not being able to battle the tears that filled your eyes. Your heart was swelling with pride.
"She's pretty," El murmured, her voice sounding even quieter now, as her eyes sparkled at the sight of the little one.
With a trembling voice, Dustin agreed, "She is very pretty".
"Yeah," Will says as he watches Millie yawn, "She looks just like you, Y/N".
"Lucky for her," Mike and Max remark in unison, immediately glaring at each other with narrowed eyes. That makes everyone laugh, and baby Amelia opens up her eyes to check it out, opening a toothless grin after.
Max, feeling as if her witty remark was stolen by the boy, adds, "It'd be such a shame if she had Steve's dead-fish stare. Thank God she has Y/N's eyes, too".
At that, your husband gawks at her, letting out an offended gasp. He's so upset that his mouth hangs open, as he looks at her, in complete silence. Catching his incredulity, Max only shrugs, as if to say, "What can I do?".
"Well, at least she has his hair," Lucas observes, mediating the situation, as usual.
"Thank you, Lucas!" Steve breathes out, feeling he got the justice he deserved.
The bickering soon faded into a familiar silence, as everyone's attention fell fully on your little girl, who slept peacefully in Dustin's arms, completely ignoring the commotion around her. And that was when the emotional weight of the moment fell on all of you. Glistened eyes watched in tranquility as the baby squirmed every once in a while, as the importance of the scene settled. Amelia's sole existence reassured you of a peace that you hadn't known in years, as if she was the last step in sealing the serene fate that awaited all of you. She was living proof that life is still normal, and despite all the hard times, it isn't all that bad, actually.
Seeing those grown-up kids taking care of a small piece of you and Steve filled your heart with delight, and a different sense of fulfillment that you hadn't known until now. It's so meaningful.
The nostalgia of seeing their sweet faces intensified when the kids started to argue about who was going to hold Amelia next, and suddenly the apartment was filled with loud chattering all over again. Just like the old times… but, somehow, better.
"Jonathan, look!" Nancy points out to little Amelia scrunching her nose, as if to suggest that he should snap a picture of the baby like that. Now, the kid was laying in Robin's arms, having her full head of hair brushed by Auntie Bobby – the lame nickname was picked by Steve, of course. "What a cute little nose you have, Amy!"
The oldest Wheeler compliments the baby in a high-pitched tone, as if the girl would actually understand. By her side, Jonathan kept taking pictures of the baby, snapping beautiful frames with that domestic feeling that you're growing used to; he promised that he'll develop all of them later.
"When's her birthday?" Eden asks quietly, as she smooches her face against Argyle's arm, watching the baby in wonder.
"October thirty-first," Steve answers quickly, not helping himself. Ever since the baby was born, he started to cultivate this staggering need to answer anything Amelia-related, talking about her constantly as if he didn't know how to chat about anything else.
With that spaced-out way of his, like he just had snapped out of a trance by the baby's birth date, Argyle lets out a chuckle, looking down at Millie with… respect, it seemed. "Ooh, Scorpio. Cool, man".
Then, everyone falls back into silence, just appreciating her small features and lovable babbles. However, Steve seems a little skeptical about how cool it is for his kid to be a Scorpio, and he slowly turns his head to look at you, giving Argyle a bit of a side-eye when he does so.
"What did he mean by that? Isn't that, like, bad?" he whispers to you, still watching your friends interact with Amelia from the corner of his eyes.
"No!" you immediately reassure him, telling a little half-truth, "It just means that she's very… sweet".
Steve seems satisfied by your answer, mainly because he doesn't ask any further questions, and he goes back to keeping his eyes on Robin, making sure that she's holding your kid correctly. It isn't his fault that she has spaghetti arms, alright?
Eddie soon joins in, though he doesn't look very pleased about it, walking to stand in front of Robin with an exasperated expression on his face. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking down at the girl. You watch the scene unfold with confusion.
"Well?" he asks, lifting his eyebrows as if he is waiting for something, though he doesn't say what it is.
Rob looks up, still playing with the baby's hair, pursing her lips while she waits for Eddie to explain why he is interrupting her moment with Amelia. From over her shoulder, Vicky makes funny faces at the small girl, making loud squeals come out of your daughter's mouth.
When he doesn't say anything, Robin asks, "What, Munson?", blinking her eyes vigorously as she tilts her head.
"You're taking too long!" he tells her like that was the only answer possible. "It's been fifteen minutes already, it's my turn!"
After Eddie's little protest (thankfully, he didn't feel the need to get on top of your table this time), everyone took turns holding baby Millie in their arms. You didn't mind it, because you knew that your friends were just very excited to be meeting your daughter for the first time, but you cannot say the same for Steve. He was hating every second of it.
"Y/N, I can't take it," he breathes out once he pulls you to the side, hiding with you in the kitchen, away from prying ears, "They're passing her around like a joint".
"Relax, Stevie," you try to calm him down, though it's useless. Spying into the living room again, you see that Amelia is laying in Eleven's arms, which warms your chest a little. "El's rocking her to sleep, there's no prob-"
You quickly stop talking when Mike takes the baby from his girlfriend's grasp, having a hard time managing his long limbs around the kid's small frame. Eyes widening, you look to Steve, wanting to catch his reaction to the scene.
And he's fuming.
But just as he is getting ready to stomp his way over to Michael, you hold his arm, keeping him back and away from the kids. "Give them a break," is how you begin to reason with him, "he's getting the hang of it".
"Well, my daughter shouldn't be their little guinea pig," he huffs back, crossing his arms.
"Don't be like that," you persuade. "You didn't know how to hold her either, and now you're, like, a pro. Right?".
His hardened expression seems to melt at your compliment – Steve always feels so elated whenever people praise his parenting skills, especially when it comes from you. Your husband's cheeks flush a little, and he looks down, a bit bashful.
"You mean it?" he asks, playing with the loose seems of his yellow sweater.
"Of course, I mean it," giggling, you get closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you pull him in for a hug. "She's so lucky to have you as her dad. Actually, we're so lucky to have you in our lives".
He chuckles a little, pleased to still gain such flattery from you. From where you stood, you can clearly see the timid redness that cripples from his neck up to his cheeks, which makes him seem even more adorable in your eyes. But even his striking looks didn't distract you from the intimate feeling of his hand resting over the small of your back, drawing you closer for a sweet peck on the lips. It's funny how still after all this time, Steve was able to make you feel endless electricity and warmth just by the simple touch of his lips.
Unfortunately for you, the pleasant moment was ruined by someone clearing their throat. Pulling apart from the kiss, you and Steve looked ahead, catching Eddie and Dustin's embarrassed faces after interrupting.
"Hey, so, hm…", Dustin starts, clearly not knowing how he should start, still very awkward succeeding the scene they had just break in on.
"We have settled on who should be Amy's godfather, and we swear-", Eddie cuts in, talking at full speed. But before he could get on with their (definitely) deep and sensible reasoning, you hear Steve groaning.
"Jesus, guys. Not this again".
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What about Steve trying to teach his 4 year old daughter how to swim and maybe he’s really comforting
this is so sweet :(
steve always dreamt of practicing sports with his future kids. he had spent an embarrassing amount of time daydreaming about future scenarios where he teaches his children how to dribble, or maybe how to hold a baseball bat without being brought down by its weight.
but throughout all of those years he spent thinking about being the cool athletic dad, he had never even phantom the idea of teaching his daughter how to swim because she wants to be a mermaid.
there's nothing wrong with it, but he thinks she might be watching the little mermaid a bit too much lately.
being who he is, he also would never imagine saying 'no' to his little girl. especially when she had asked him so sweetly, with the brightest, most excited smile on her face. and that is why he's standing in the pool, with amelia in his arms, leaning her back on his chest. she doesn't seem to like it, because she keeps whining and kicking her little legs.
well, the kicks were part of the exercise, but the strength she was using certainly was not. the water splashed everywhere, and even steve's face was starting to get wet.
"it's fine, cutie," steve holds amelia tight to his chest, standing by the middle of the swimming pool, trying to get her used to being inside the water.
"it's not fine, daddy! it's cold!" the little girl exclaims, her legs already kicking heavily against the water. her voice starting to crack right at the end, which was a clear sign of 'caution: temper tantrum incoming'.
"millie, sweetheart, we haven't even started yet," soft-spoken, his voice feels almost like a warm hug. it does calm her down a little, but it doesn't mean steve's completely off the hook yet.
amelia had a natural short temper that could only be controlled by her father. it was almost like an unspoken thing between the two of them; she would whine and complain when things didn't go how she wanted, and steve always soothed it all, as his patience would miraculously grow infinite.
she scrunches her nose, another indication of her grumpiness.
"can i sit down by the edge, please?" amelia was always very polite when upset, and it never failed to amuse him.
nodding, he walks with her to the edge of the pool, sitting her small body there, with little effort. catching sight of her pouty face, the dad asks, "what's with the frown, pumpkin? don't wanna be a mermaid no more?"
"it's just... cold".
"uh huh," steve doesn't buy it for a second, especially when he notices the hesitancy on her brown eyes, growing to be so similar to his. "it has nothing to do with you starting to get scared, does it?"
she widens her eyes at him, like he had just figured out the only secret she was trying to hide. overdramatic, as always. with her chubby cheeks reddening, amy shakes her head, denying it, but the bashful smile on her lips tells steve otherwise.
"there's nothing to be afraid of, cutie. it's just water," he shrugs a little, trying to ease her fear, "you take baths all the time, you know how it's like".
"daddy, it's not the same!" she says through an adorable fit of giggles. steve playfully rolls his eyes, making her laugh even more.
"yeah, yeah, it is," smiling, he puts one of his hands on his hip, looking at her as she calms down. "what you're scared of? is it because it's deep?"
more comfortable now, amelia nods her head, but she feels like adding, "i don't want to get water up my nose".
steve's eyebrows shot up, surprised by the discovery. "we can fix that, mills. d'you trust me?"
the little girl eagerly nods her head, getting excited all over again, just like she was this morning. steve gives her a short chuckle.
"alright. so, you have to hold your breath. like this," he shows her by taking a big inhale, stuffing his stomach, and puffing his cheeks, holding the air in. he watches as his daughter does the same, and he nods approvingly, "and when you come back up from the water, you just..."
steve lets out the remaining air from his lungs in a loud exhale, and amelia copies him, her reddened cheeks flattening again.
"wanna try going for a dip? i'll hold you," steve suggests, just to see if she is willing to attempt. when she comes back up, he'll continue the failed kicks practice.
luckily for him, just the proposal is enough for her to smile with delight, thrilled to get to try it. and watching the way her eyes light up, is enough to make his upper body shake with laughter.
"alright. c'mon now, ariel," he holds his arms out for her.
i saw a tiktok where a girl invited her bf over to hang out and it really was just a ploy to get him to help her clean her room. and the tiktok was of him grumpily laying out her duvet & fluffing her pillow. big steve energy imo.
💭. roma, this is honestly one of the most steve things ever.
just picture how his face fell when he figured out what your true intentions were. it’s obvious that steve thought you asked him to come to your place for your usual breathtaking make out sessions, and he came prepared! wearing your favorite cologne, with that blue shirt of his that hugs him in all the right places, showing off his well-built arms, and his customary tight jeans. he was ready for another great night with you, but it seemed like you had different plans.
your room was usually messy, with your papers all over the place, books opened in random pages, some clothes piled up in your chair and pens everywhere. he was used to it, and always said that you should tidy the place up — steve’s room, as incredible as it seems, wasn’t always messy. he always tried his best to keep his clothes in their place and his bed was always in order, with sheets looking almost untouched, like he didn’t even sleep in his bedroom. so, you were just doing what he’s told you, right? it wasn’t that mean.
it started out with you asking him, “hey, stevie, could you please bring those books here?”, and pointing to your big bookshelf. and as the great boyfriend that steve is, he obliged, stacking up your books on his arms and bringing them for you to put them in their place. and you did, at first. but after completing half of the shelves, you told him, “i think i’m gonna sit down a bit, my arms kind of hurt. can you keep going?”.
steve didn’t find it weird at the start, indulging almost mindlessly in your little trap. so he continued to stack your books, organizing them in the exact way you wanted; folding your clothes and putting them on your wardrobe when you asked him to; taking all of your pens (even finding ‘new’ ones that you forgot about) and placing them inside your little organizer. he kept going until he got to your bed and saw you just lying there, going through a magazine, not paying attention to him at all. oh, man, he was so irritated when he figured out you were making him be your maid for the day — and much more frustrated when he figured it had no sexual connotation behind it either.
“i can’t believe you just made me clean up your whole room”, he said with a huff. his hands immediately went to his hips, giving you his famous ‘mom pose’.
“i didn’t”, you said, like it was obvious, “you still haven’t cleaned up my bed”.
by the look on his face, you were convinced that he wasn’t going to do anything else for you. in fact, you knew that he was going to go full rant mode on you, giving you a piece of his mind in that dramatic way of his. you braced yourself once you heard him sigh and rub his face quickly with his hands, looking in your direction. you just weren’t expecting to hear what came next.
“well, i can’t do it if you’re laying on top of it”, he stated, and walked up to get some clean sheets out of your wardrobe. you excitedly got up, going towards him with the biggest smile on your face. all he could do was roll his eyes, leaning on your direction to give you a quick kiss on the lips.
murmuring an almost inaudible “messy girl”, steve was quick to go change your bedsheets after that; your small kiss being fueling enough for him to do anything you asked him to in a heartbeat.
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