#soft steve

[farttdust]

steve harrington has a bad habit.

he takes in the dogs and cats no one wants anymore.

he's had elderly dogs, disabled cats, puppies that have grown and lost their sparkle, kittens that had been left in the dumpster. he's taken dogs that families can't handle anymore, and he does it with love. he uses his parents huge house to home animals that deserve it, animals that fill the emptiness.

so what happens after vecna is all said and done, and eddie's dead and gone, and a mangy dog crawls out from under eddie's old trailer while steve's there helping max do some minor repairs? and what happens when steve takes the dog home, names him ozzy, curtsy of eddie taking up every inch of his brain, and nurses the skinny thing back to health, along with the other strays he's taken in.

but ozzy never really liked to be around the other animals, always choosing to curl up next to steve, and maybe it was because he knew how much bigger he was than all of them because, damn. ozzy was a big ass dog.

until one night, steve shoots out of bed, drenched in sweat, chest heaving as he's recovering from a nightmare, and he catches a glimpse of none other than eddie. eddie, who's supposed to be dead. eddie who's supposed to be dead in the upside down, nonetheless, peering at him through his doorway. "what the fuck," he breaths, watching as eddie flinches nervously, "surprise," the metal head cheers flatly.

"what the fuck."

[fictophilianworld]

Soft Steve headcanons 🥺

I feel like Steve would secretly love being called pretty

Like, he always has to maintain that tough/masculine image or reputation in public because, you know, he’s Captain fucking America

Always expected to be the tough guy, the protector

But when he’s just plain old Stevie he loves being fussed over or taken care of for once

Loves loves loves when you cup his face/squish and go “look at you you’re so cute my pretty princess precious little baby 😘💕🥺”

Melts when he’s called a good boy because bottom steve bottom steve bottom steve

HANDKERCHIEFS YES

Will embroider your initials EVERYWHERE to show off that you’re his and he is yours

If you ever get hurt, he’ll beat himself up really bad for it. He’ll feel so so so much guilt even if it’s not his fault because he feels like he should’ve been there to protect you

“God, sweetheart, people call me Captain America and I can’t even protect my lover. I’m so sorry.”

Will fuss over you when you’re sick or hurt

He’ll do everything for you, from household chores like cleaning or cooking to helping you take baths or changing in and out of clothes

“Shh, lay back honey, I’m gonna give you a nice back rub, okay? Yeah? That sounds good?”

Loves slow dancing in the living room, dressed up, music playing softly, your cheek against his chest, his nose in your hair breathing in your scent or chin resting on the top of your head.

It takes his breath away if you wear something old-fashioned because it reminds him of the 40s. He’ll sometimes wear his old uniform for you because you love how smart he looks, all dressed up like that.

[samazing0831]

Prom Night Panic - Steve Harrington x Reader

Hawkins High, 1986 Friends to lovers, slow-burn, prom night confession Vibe: soft lighting, soft hearts, soft hair (Steve's, obviously)

1.1k words

The Hawkins High gym looked like a half-hearted attempt at magic.

Paper stars dangled from the ceiling by curling ribbon. The disco ball spun a little too slowly to really dazzle, and the balloons - some barely clinging to helium - bobbed halfheartedly along the walls. "Crazy for You" by Madonna crackled through the school's aging sound system, doing its best to sell the illusion of romance.

You were dressed to the nines - hair curled, makeup perfect, dress hugging every curve - and still, you felt empty.

Your date had flaked hours ago. Claimed his car wouldn't start. That would've been believable... if you hadn't seen him at the arcade twenty minutes later. You almost didn't come. But Robin had begged. And deep down, you knew you'd regret staying home more than showing up solo.

You walked in with your friends, fake smiles plastered on, your heart still bruised.

Across the gym, Steve stood with Robin, laughing a little too loudly. His maroon suit shouldn't have worked, but of course it did. Hair perfectly Farrah Fawcett'd, smile charming as ever - even if it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Robin elbowed him, subtly nodding in your direction. He followed her gaze, and for a moment, your eyes met.

The world didn't stop. But maybe your heart did.

He smiled first - awkward and warm. You smiled back.

Robin melted into the crowd, and Steve started walking toward you, hands shoved in his pockets like he wasn't entirely sure if he should be doing this.

"Hey," he said, pausing in front of you. "So... prom kinda sucks without a date, huh?"

He let out a nervous laugh. "Thought I'd be here making some girl swoon by now. Guess I peaked in '84."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Steve, tell me something I don't know."

You were teasing, sure - but your voice carried something heavier beneath the sarcasm. A tremble of insecurity you didn't want him to hear. You'd come here trying to pretend your heart wasn't hurting. But standing in front of Steve? That was harder to fake.

He looked you up and down - quick, but not sleazy. His gaze softened. "You look..." He trailed off, then shrugged with a laugh. "I was gonna say 'nice,' but that feels like a crime. You look insane. In, like, a good way."

The song changed. Another slow one. Couples moved to the dance floor, laughter dissolving into soft whispers and slow steps.

Steve shifted on his feet, fidgeting. "I mean... we're already here. We're both alone. Wanna... dance? Just one? No pressure."

You hesitated. Just for a second.

"One dance," you said, slipping your hand into his. "Then someday I can tell my grandkids I danced with the Steve Harrington. Maybe that'll still mean something."

Steve chuckled, leading you onto the floor. "Oh, it'll mean something. I'll make sure of it. Gonna be a household name by then - Harrington Industries or something."

You both laughed as his hand found your waist and the other laced with yours. You swayed in time with the music, the disco ball throwing specks of light across the floor like fireflies.

Silence settled over you. Not awkward - comfortable. Familiar.

"I almost didn't come tonight either," Steve said quietly. "I figured, what's the point without a date, right?" His thumb brushed gently across your hand. "But then I thought... if I stayed home, I'd miss dancing with you. And I guess... I just didn't wanna miss that."

You looked up at him, startled by the softness in his voice.

"Look at you, Harrington. That was almost romantic."

He smirked. "Almost?"

"You're not so bad, Steve, y'know."

His grin softened. "You really think that? That I'm not so bad?"

He leaned in slightly, like he needed the answer more than he wanted to admit.

The music shifted again - another dreamy, lovesick ballad from the Top 40. But neither of you moved.

"I think about you a lot," he said, like he was saying something casual - but his eyes betrayed him. They were wide, searching. "More than I probably should, considering we're just friends."

You froze.

Surely, he didn't mean -

"I - uh, thank you? I guess?"

Steve winced. "Wow, yeah. That sounded way smoother in my head."

He didn't let go of your hand. "I just meant... I think I might've been waiting for a night like this. No pressure, no dates, just us. And suddenly I couldn't stop wondering why I was trying so hard with everyone but you."

His gaze dropped to the floor, then back to yours.

"But maybe I'm reading this all wrong," he added, voice quiet. "I just... couldn't not say it anymore."

You swallowed hard. "Couldn't not say what, Steve?"

He looked at you like he already knew the fallout of his answer - good or bad - but had no choice but to say it anyway.

"That I like you," he said. "Not just tonight. Not just because your date didn't show. I think I've liked you for a while."

His thumb traced your knuckles absentmindedly.

"I was just too chicken to say it, because if you didn't feel the same... I didn't wanna screw up what we have. But standing here? Holding your hand, dancing in this stupid tux with my dumb hair? It feels like I'd regret it more if I kept pretending."

You didn't speak.

You didn't think.

You moved.

Your hand moved up to his cheek, fingers curling against his skin, and you leaned in - pressing your lips to his in a kiss that felt like electricity and warmth and every mixtape-worthy moment all rolled into one.

He didn't hesitate. His arms pulled you in, like he'd been waiting forever. The music became nothing but a background hum, the dance floor melting away around you.

When you pulled back, Steve's forehead rested gently against yours, his breath warm and quick.

"Okay," he whispered. "That definitely means you feel the same... right?"

You laughed, breathless. "Yeah. I feel the same."

Steve grinned - boyish and bright and completely disarming. "Good. That's - good. I was scared I'd totally misread things, and you'd slap me or something."

He glanced around, then back at you. "So... you think we could skip the rest of prom? Get milkshakes or something? Just... you and me?"

You smiled. "A milkshake sounds good."

He exhaled, relieved. "Cool. Let's ditch this joint."

Fingers still tangled in yours, he led you out of the gym and into the night. The air was cool, the sky clear, and for the first time all evening, everything felt right.

Steve opened the car door with a dramatic bow. "Your chariot awaits, m'lady."

And when he started the engine, headlights cutting through the Hawkins dark, you felt it in your chest - like maybe, just maybe, this night would be one you'd remember forever.

I'm thinking of adding a smut part 2 to this... thoughts?

Part 2?

No :(

Yes! - car sex

Yes! - at reader's or Steve's house

Voting ended onJun 2, 2025

[kitty384]

After the Nightmare

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x Teen!Reader (Found Family | Platonic | Soft Dad!Stucky)

Summary: You’ve never gone to them after a nightmare before. But tonight, your chest aches and your hands shake—and when you slip into their room, too quiet to be brave, Steve and Bucky don’t say a word. They just open the covers and make space for you.

Warnings: Nightmare imagery (non-detailed), implied past trauma, touch-starved behavior, anxiety, safe physical comfort, reader crying, heavy emotions with gentle resolution, soft found family dynamic, 2k+ words

The dream didn’t start with fire.

It never did.

It always began in silence. Cold. Bright white walls and humming lights. Voices behind glass. The smell of sterile metal and restraint.

And then came the part you couldn’t breathe through.

The part where someone reached for you, and you couldn’t move.

Not fast enough.

Not loud enough.

Not enough.

You woke up choking on air.

Sheets tangled.

Sweat slick on the back of your neck.

Your chest a cave of something sharp and silent.

The compound was dark when you slipped into the hallway barefoot.

Your room felt too small. Too quiet.

You weren’t even sure where you were going at first.

Only that you didn’t want to be alone.

Not this time.

Not again.

You stood outside their door for what felt like forever.

Steve and Bucky had said it once. More than once.

“If you ever need us.”

“Any time, sweetheart.”

“Doors never locked.”

But you’d never tested it.

Not like this.

Not in the middle of the night when your hands were still shaking and your throat still burned.

Your fingers hovered over the doorknob.

Then turned.

It opened without a sound.

And you stepped inside.

They were both asleep.

Steve on the left, one arm tucked behind his head, blankets pushed halfway down.

Bucky curled toward him, loose and peaceful for once, a rare calm resting on his face.

You’d never seen them like this.

Never been this close while they were so unguarded.

They trusted you.

You knew that.

And that trust felt like something too fragile to touch.

But still… your feet carried you forward.

You didn’t mean to cry.

Not really.

But as you reached the side of the bed—stood there, unsure, silent—your body made the decision for you.

A tear hit your cheek before you even felt it fall.

Then another.

Then—

“Sweetheart?”

Steve’s voice was still thick with sleep.

But soft.

So soft.

Bucky blinked awake beside him.

Both of them sat up slowly, eyes adjusting to the dark.

You froze.

Hands at your sides.

Tears now falling freely down your face.

You couldn’t say it.

Couldn’t ask.

Didn’t know how.

But Bucky saw you.

And opened the blanket.

Just a little.

Just enough.

His voice was quiet. Not a question.

“C’mere.”

You moved before you could stop yourself.

Climbed in between them.

Shaking.

Tears soaking into the collar of Steve’s sleep shirt as you curled into his side.

Bucky wrapped around your back, his metal hand feather-light over your hip.

Neither of them spoke right away.

They didn’t ask what happened.

They didn’t tell you it was just a dream.

They just held you.

Like they were always meant to.

Like this space between them had been waiting for you all along

You didn’t mean to fall asleep again.

But eventually, the sobs softened.

Your fingers unclenched.

Your lungs started letting air in without the ache.

And sometime before dawn, tucked between their bodies and their warmth and their steady, heartbeat comfort—

You drifted off.

When you woke again, the room was still dim.

The world quieter.

Softer.

Steve’s arm was still around you, resting warm and steady across your ribs.

Bucky’s hand had found yours sometime in the night and never let go.

Neither of them moved.

They were both awake.

But they didn’t speak.

Just looked down at you with something too tender for words.

You opened your mouth to say I’m sorry.

But Steve shook his head.

“You don’t have to apologize, honey.”

Bucky squeezed your hand.

“You came to us. That’s all we’ve ever wanted.”

You looked between them.

Eyes blurry.

Voice small.

“I didn’t mean to cry.”

Steve smiled, brushing a thumb under your eye.

“You’re allowed to cry.”

Bucky added, “You’re allowed to do anything you need. This is your home now.”

You stayed there for a long time.

None of you in a rush to move.

Not even when the sun crept higher.

Not even when the compound started to stir.

Because this was the first time you’d gone to them on your own.

And the first time you realized… they’d always make room for you.

Even in the middle of the night.

Even if you couldn’t speak.

Even if all you could do was cry.

They’d never ask you to be anything more than themselves.

And this time, you believed them.

Masterlist

Request

[raccoonsandrangoons]

Stumblin’ In

✼ Steve accepts a job as a preschool teacher. You stumble into his classroom running late to pick up your daughter.

✼ A/N : it’s been over a year since I’ve published anything but Steve holds a special place in my heart and I just had to write this for him. Named after my favorite selfship song because what else is fanfic but self indulgence?

✼ 1.7k words

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ 　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ 　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉

For years now, it was just you and your daughter, Jubilee, living in a trailer down the road from Eddie and your sister.

Her father left the moment he found out about her, scaring you away from any further thoughts of romance. But your sweet little Jubilee was enough for you.

Being a single mom was tough, but you refused to let your sister and Eddie help too much. You already felt like an emotional burden on your sister, and you didn’t want to burden her too much when she’s already taking care of Wayne (a work injury has him taking an early retirement).

Wayne, sweetheart as he is, always insisted that you’re no burden. You and your little one were as much as family as Eddie and your sister.

“She helps ease the day when Eddie and ya sister are out,” Wayne always said.

A soft sigh left your lips and you looked at Wayne as your daughter ran around the front yard.

“I told you,” Wayne said, leaning back into his chair with his hands behind head. “I didn’t like that boy you brought to the wedding. Said he was bad news.”

“I should’ve listened to you, Uncle Wayne,” you said. “But then we wouldn’t have her, would we?”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ 　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ 　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉

Steve loves his job. He never would imagine that he would ever be a preschool teacher, but he wouldn’t change it for anything. Really, he’s a daycare employee, but he’s in the preschool room, so he would consider himself a preschool teacher.

He had gotten the job on recommendation from Robin, the middle school band director. After Robin went off to college and came back a certified music teacher and Steve was still at Family Video, she said there was an opening for preschool at childcare not far from Hawkins schools.

“I know it’s not what you ever thought of, but you’re really good with kids,” Robin said. “I mean, look at Dustin!”

“Henderson’s all grown now; he’s in college,” Steve argued. “Besides he was in middle school when we met; these are little kids.”

“You were really good with the Byers baby when Johnathan and Nancy visited,” Robin quipped.

“That’s still different. That’s a baby baby, not a preschooler.”

“The pay is better than Family Video, I swear it,” Robin pressed. “And the insurance isn’t bad either!”

Steve thought for a moment. It was close to his last year on his parents’ insurance, and he really needed to find a place of his own.

“I think it’s worth a shot to at least apply. Do you really want to be stuck at Family Video for the rest of your life?”

So Steve applied, and what a shock it was when he got a call for an interview a couple days later and was hired within a week from that.

His dad, naturally, wasn’t pleased. It had ignited a massive fight.

“I don’t know, why don’t you come work for me?” Steve’s dad said the moment Steve told his parents he had applied for the job over a rare family dinner.

“I don’t want to work for the company or even in an office,” Steve huffed while cutting into the dry chicken. “And this is a decent paying job. It’s enough that I can move out.”

“You’re always welcome here as long as you need, honey,” his mother interjected, as if Steve hadn’t spent the majority of his time at home alone.

“I’m twenty-three, Mom,” he said. “I think it’s time I find my own. A real job, and they don’t even care that I don’t have a college degree.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little gay for you to be teaching preschool?” Steve’s dad commented.

Steve set down his fork and glared at his father. “Don’t say that.”

“Well, it’s a woman’s job,” his father pressed. “So are you?”

“A woman? No.”

“Gay, son. Are you?”

Tension grew thick.

“No, but don’t say that.”

After his fight with his father, he moved in with Robin. More rumors circulated around but were calmed by Chrissy, Robin’s friend from college, also living with them. The rumors were quickly dispelled by Robin’s statement in the Hawkins Middle teacher’s lounge that the two of them were just helping a friend in need until he got on his own feet. Which was exactly Steve’s plans, to save enough and live on his own for a bit.

It had only been a month into the new school year, but already Steve knew he had made the right decision even without Robin’s “I told you so.”

It had only been a month into the new school year, but already Steve knew he had made the right decision even without Robin’s “I told you so.”

Just a few more months and he would have enough saved to move into his own place and be out of Robin’s hair.

He’d long since given up on romantic love, settling on just being “professional babysitter” all his life as Dustin had said.

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Steve didn’t mind staying late. He understood that some days things ran over and parents would inevitably run late every once in a while.

He especially didn’t mind when the kid in question is his favorite. He knows he isn’t supposed to have favorites, but Jubilee is the kindest and most well-behaved child Steve has.

Jubilee didn’t seem to mind either, content in finishing the page out of the coloring book Steve gave her. She lifts up the book to show Steve the blue

“Looking good, honey!” he praised. “I really like the blue on the ladybug. Creative!”

After an hour however, Steve started to worry.

He dug around in his desk for papers to see if Jubilee has an emergency contact. After a moment of fumbling around, he finds her folder and flips through until he sees:

_____ Hargrove - Mother

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

Hargrove

His heart sinks into his chest and he feels a tightening. Billy has a baby. Jealousy is an ugly feeling. Billy Hargrove has the cutest daughter while the clock is still ticking on Steve’s dream of six little nuggets.

Shaking his head and telling himself there are bigger things to worry about than a long dead high school rivalry, Steves picked up the classroom phone and dialed the number listed as “mother”.

No answer.

He called a second time. Still no answer.

He looked back down at the folder and scanned for other names.

Jade Munson - Aunt

Eddie Munson - Uncle

Wayne Munson - Uncle

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

Munson

Steve still regularly visited with Eddie. How could a kid in his class be related to one of his good friends without him ever knowing?

Steve sank back into his chair.

Billy was a dad and Eddie was an uncle.

With a heavy sigh, he picked up the phone again and was just about to call Eddie when the door to his room slammed open.

Breathless and her hair falling out of a once neat bun was the most beautiful woman Steve had ever seen stumbling into the doorway.

“I’m so sorry,” you panted. You hunched over, trying to regain you breath. “I thought,” you said between heavy breaths. “I thought it was Eddie’s turn to pick her up.”

Steve had about two seconds to drink you in. As you lifted your head and met Steve’s gaze, he realized immediately why you were so familiar. You were the maid of honor at Eddie’s small wedding a few years ago, the one he couldn’t stop gawking at despite Robin’s teasing—the one he almost managed to find the courage to ask for a dance before he saw you laughing and dancing with none other than Billy Hargrove.

“Mama!” Jubilee exclaimed. The young girl threw down her crayons and ran to you with her tiny arms up, ready to scooped up into her mother’s arms.

“Hi, baby!” you said. “How was school?” You placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

Steve’s gut twisted with want as he heard little cry of “mama!” and watched the reunion before him. He felt dirty thinking of a practical stranger in such a way, but he couldn’t help it. You were gorgeous and genuinely cared for your daughter, and Steve, at his core, just wanted a family to call his own.

He felt a wave of emotions, primarily guilt, before he remembered there was no father listed in the girl’s emergency contacts. No Billy, just you, then who he assumed was your sister, Eddie, then Wayne. The evil bug of jealousy had backed off a bit, and Steve, despite chastising himself, felt a twinge of hope.

He lets his gaze drift to your left ring finger and sees that there’s no ring. Once again, he chastised himself for looking in the first place, and then a second time for the relief he feels over it.

“Thank you so much,” you say, as you hold your child who’s pressing her cheek against yours. “I’m so sorry. “I really thought Eddie was off today and would be taking her home, so I agreed to work late.”

Steve smiled and assured you that it’s okay. “She’s a real angel and I can see now where she gets it,” he said.

You felt a blush furiously creep up your cheeks. Your face is hot, burning, and you know you can’t hide it. You’re not used to compliments or any kind of attention. You’d long since given up on romance since Jubilee’s father left, focusing all your energy into raising her and working.

“I swear it won’t ever happen again. Thank you so much.” You looked at the clock on the wall.

6:30.

Steve had stayed for an extra hour at least.

“Oh my god! It’s so late.” You looked at your daughter in your arms and tickle her stomach. “I bet you’re hungry aren’t you.”

Instead, it’s Steve’s stomach that growls, and it’s his turn to flush with embarrassment. You turned your face towards Steve at the sound, and he sheepishly cast his eyes down, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I know this is a reach,” you said, shuffling your feet in nerves and moving your daughter from one hip to the other. “But could I repay you by making you dinner?”

“That actually sounds wonderful,” Steve said, his voice almost getting stuck in the mess of flutters his heart and stomach were making. “Thank you, please.”

“Mama?” Jubilee tugged on your ear to get your attention. She whispered in her three year old way that everyone within a decent radius could still hear. “Is Mr. Steve coming home with us?”

“Oh well, yes? I think so?” You looked to Steve seeking confirmation. “Uh, unless tonight is too soon…”

“No!” Steve exclaimed. “I mean, no. No. It’s not too soon for me. Tonight sounds perfect.”

[manohmangreeneyes]

The Harrigtons™

summary: steve harrington x y/n byers and their six little nuggets' life

characters: dad!steve x byers!y/n, joyce x hopper, will, jonothan, el, dustin, lucas x max, mike

warnings: ST4 VOL. 2 SPOILERS!! fluff, minimal swearing, pregnancy, hinted smut, childbirth, that's probably it :)

legend: italics = not in the moment narration, ~~~ = scene change

a/n: ik literally nobody pays attention to these but if this sucks i'm sorry it's my first time writing :,) also i tried really hard to keep steve in-character, bc i read so many of these where he totally isn't.. takes place after season four, except there's no ominous ending (i'm coming for u duffers) also nancy is non-existent in this fic (i love her but she would be problematic due to ST4 ship moments; and there's no mileven or byler bc will and el are way to good for mike and the im convinced byler car scene was will finally letting himself let go of mike)

anyways enjoy

~~~

"STEVE!" I cried, sitting on the cold tile of our shared bedroom's bathroom.

He sprinted in from the kitchen- with the glass of water he went to get for me- breathless. "What's it say?"

I flipped the pregnancy test around, revealing two pink lines.

"YES!" he cried, high-fiving me ecstatically. "This is so great, y/n," he smiled, kneeling down to my spot on the floor.

"We're gonna be parents," I murmured, caressing my boyfriend's face gently.

"The start of our Brood of Harringtons™!" He cheered.

~~~

You're probably wondering, "What had you done to get in this situation?" Hopefully not literally, but that's not the point. Well, after all of the chaos in Hawkins, me and Steve finally decided what was most important to the both of us: each other.

Now, I know it was cheesy for us to realize that, but c'mon, where did you think all those clichés came from?

After Steve's sappy speech in the Winnebago, and the terrifying threats of the Upside Down, we worked towards making that dream a reality.

Steve enrolled in ILEA, or the Police Academy for Indiana. I went back to college, seeing as I had been accepted to the local community college. Me and Steve had planned to wait to get married and have our "six little nuggets", as he calls them, until after college. But things don't always go according to plan- especially after a few drinks and a local party (which I remember nothing, not even whose party it was). I missed my monthly twice, and finally told Steve. Of course, he was beyond happy, and ran out to buy a few pregnancy tests. And that's how we ended up talking about our baby-to-come on a Sunday afternoon, on the floor of our bathroom.

But that was back in '87, a whole year after the last.. incident. But I'm not here to talk about that. I'm here to tell you about my family, The Harrington's.

~~~

Nine months after that, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy: Matthew James Harrington. Born October 7, 1987, at 6:22 in the morning, after 13 long hours of excruciating pain. Here's how it went..

"Hey, Steve..?" I said calmly.

"Yeah, babe?" Steve called from over his shoulder. He was on a ladder, fixing a dead lightbulb in the nursery.

"So, don't freak out," I said, still calm. Which, of course, made Steve turn around, and see me waddle in with my water broken all over my pants.

"Oh. Oh! OH, SSSSSSHIT!" He yelled, scrambling down the ladder. "Ooookay, okay. Stay calm, alright! You go take a bath, change into your hospital clothes, and we'll get in the car, and drive to the hospital!" He listed as he guided me into the bathroom, starting a bath and lying out my hospital clothes.

"Alright, I'll stay calm," I giggled, laughing at his panicked state.

After helping me into the bath, he darted between the bathroom and bedroom, continuously asking me how I felt. "Are you sure you don't need anything? Like, absolutely sure? Because I can get you anything you need," He rambled.

"I need you to stop asking me if I'm alright every five seconds. I'll let you know if I'm in any pain." I sighed.

"Okay, okay, sorry." He muttered, helping me out of the bath after a bit and handing me my clothes.

(Which I may or may not have had to ask for help to put on)

~~~

Steve had called my Mom (Joyce), Stepdad (Hop), Stepsister (El), and Brothers (Jon and Will) once we were at the hospital. They rushed over, only Mom and Steve following me into the delivery room.

"It's alright sweetheart, it's almost time," my mother cooed, pressing kisses to my sweaty forehead as she smoothed my hair. "You're almost there."

As expected, I was crying in pain. Scratch that, I was wailing. Childbirth is my least favorite thing, just to be clear.

"Good job, y/n.. good job, hon." Steve was repeating this like his life depends on it, his hand in mine as I squeezed it, nearly breaking his hand.

"I was prepared for pain, not whatever the hell this is!" I screeched, letting out a final push. And then I heard it. Sure, anyone else would have covered their ears at the sound of a screaming baby, but when it's yours, it is an entirely different experience.

Steve let go of my hand, walking over to the nurse holding our son. "Can I...?" He whispered. The nurse nodded, handing him our baby.

"Good job, sweetie.. you did so good." Mom sobbed as she kisses my head. She gave my hand a squeeze as Steve handed me our first baby.

"Hi, little man," I blubbered, "Hello, it's mama." Different flavors of that sentence passed between my giggles and sobs.

"We did good, huh?" Steve murmured, stroking my hair and holding our son's head.

"If you mean me by 'we', then, yes, I did do good." I teased, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Mom scooped the baby up softly, murmuring to him as me and Steve filled out our new baby's birth certificate. I looked back over once we finished, smiling at my mother and son.

"Yes, hello.... It's me, it's Grandma," she cooed.

I was really grateful for my mom and Hopper; they didn't waste one second in congratulating me and Steve. There were no lectures about how we were barely twenty, only loving support. Especially from the kids; they were all about being uncles and aunts. Steve's parents, however, were a different story.

Steve hasn't had the best relationship with his parents; his father really cared about what Steve did with his life. Which doesn't sound bad, except for the fact that that was all he cared about. Steve's mother was the same story, with a bit of 'I love you's sprinkled in between the lectures.

We had decided to keep Chris and babies-to-come out of his parents' lives. Steve wasn't comfortable with our kids being exposed to the same thing he was.

But my family's support and loved was very visible when they came in to meet baby Chris.

~~~

The boys walked in first, as the hospital only allowed two at a time (which meant Mom and Steve were kicked out). Will was carrying a bouquet of flowers for Steve and I, and Jonathan was holding his camera, jumping at the chance for pictures of his brand-new nephew.

"Hey, y/n/n," Will said. He walked over, sitting in the chair next to me. He peered at the tiny baby swaddled in puffy blankets. "And hello, baby...?"

"Christopher James Harrington." I stated proudly.

"Yeah, I'm not repeating all of that. Hi there, Chris." My younger brother cooed.

"Alright, move, my turn," Jonathan said after Will had got a chance to hold Chris. "Can I take a picture of you?" he asked.

You hadn't expected anything less from your twin brother. "One picture," you sighed. "Only one."

He smiled, snapping a picture of the two of you. "Now it's my turn to hold him... Hi there, Christopher.." he cooed, then looked back up to me. "He is the spitting image of Steve. The hair and everything."

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm gonna have my hands full."

After the boys left me, El and Hopper walked in. El, never having held or been exposed to a baby, was extremely nervous. She let Hop go first, and he gladly accepted the offer.

"Let me get my hands on this monster," he uttered softly. It seems a bit harsh for a newborn, but I didn't expect any mushy baby-talk from him. "Hey there, Chris, It's Grandpa. I.." Jim went on talking to Chris as I motion El to come stand on my other side.

"Don't be nervous, El. You're gonna be just fine," I spoke. "I'll be right here and Jim's gonna help you hold her."

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I won't.. hurt him?"

"You would never." I promised.

With that, she walked over and sat in the chair. Hop helped her hold Christopher, and soon she was giggling at his little cries and squeaks.

After that, Steve came in to help us to the car. However, I refused to drive home, afraid the carseat wasn't in properly. Hopper checked it three times, but every time I looked at it and shook my head.

So, yes. I did, in fact, walk home with my newborn and boyfriend, the rest of my family following in the two cars that were brought.

~~~

I jumped, hearing a clamor and lots of various "LET US IN!"s at my front door. It was just two days after me and Chris came home from the hospital, and Steve had told the Teens to wait a few days until unleashing their chaos on our new baby. I laughed, making a "be quiet" signal as I opened the door to the Teens.

"Oh, don't tell me he's asleep!" Dustin complained.

"No, but you can't shout around a newborn regardless." I laughed.

They filed in and sat around the living room as I headed upstairs. "Guess who's here," I cooed to my son.

"I don't have to guess, I can hear them from up here," Steve said, walking in to hug me from behind.

"Hate to break it to you, but I wasn't talking to you, love. But, you do get to change him!" I said, handing the baby to Steve.

Steve sighed, sniffing his son. "Wow- that smells horrible. He's only drinking milk?" he coughed, beginning to change your baby.

"I'll be waiting with them," I laughed.

~~~

After changing him, Steve brought Chris down, handing him to Dustin first.

"I swear to you, Henderson, if you drop my kid you'll never be seen again," he warned, gently placing Chris in Dustin's arms.

The Teens crowded around him, all cooing and laughing at his every movement and sound. El and Will sat back with you, and Steve was behind the couch.

"Are you really going to let Mike hold him?" Will asked doubtfully.

"Yes," I said, seeing Mike glare over at Will. Then leaning into my little brother's ear, "sit next to him when he does." Which earned a laugh from the pair.

After they all had gotten a chance to hold Christopher, Max had called dibs on holding her the rest of the time, save little breaks when El would hold her. Steve and Dustin cooked dinner under the supervision of Lucas. Not that he was any more equipped, but if Steve and Dustin got into an argument, he was there to make sure nothing was set on fire.

And that's how things were. I loved the Teens, and not just because they were free babysitters. I knew that I was never going to have to worry about my babies, they were going to be very well cared for.

~~~

A few years later, Steve is Chief of Police. Yes, he's graduated from ILEA. I got a job at Hawkins' Law Firm, even if I was only their receptionist, and graduated college. It was now 1990, and me and Steve have two kids with another on the way. Christopher was now three years old, and a carbon copy of his father. We have a one and a half year old girl, Jessica. She was, and is, also a carbon copy of Steve, much to my annoyance that none of our babies take after me. Our next baby is also a girl, and I was about seven months along. We're naming her Emily.

Oh, and I almost forgot. Me and Steve tied the knot. After I gave birth to Jessica, he proposed to me. Not right after obviously, but about a month.

"So, what's the occasion?" I giggled, me and Steve sitting under a tree at Lovers' Lake.

"The occasion," Steve mocked my words, "is that I love you and our little family."

"That was the occasion when Jessica spit up on your back at breakfast today," I smiled. "so what's the real occasion?"

Steve sighed, pulling out a ring from his jean pocket. "The occasion," he murmured, "is our engagement..?" he ended it as a question.

"Steve, are you for real?" My voice trembled, on the verge of tears. It's crazy how even when I'm not pregnant my emotions can change in a matter of minutes.

He nodded. "Uhm, duh," He kissed my neck. "So?" Steve was never patient.

"Yes! Of course!" I sobbed- or laughed- well, both. "Gimme," I sniffled, looking at the simple silver band, lined with tiny diamonds. "Steve, it's beautiful."

"Yeah, I knew you'd like it."

~~~

"Mama," a small voice whispered, crawling on top of me, tiny knees and elbows crashing into my face. "Mama, it's time to go now."

I sighed, opening my eyes to a pair of identical y/e/c ones. "You're right, baby."

Steve walked in, tackling our youngest. "C'mon, nugget, let's go eat breakfast while Mama gets dressed."

I stretched, smiling. "You made breakfast?"

"I did," He smiled. "Everyone's up, except you. So let's go, chop chop."

"Alright, alright. I'll be down soon."

Steve and I have two boys and four girls. Not quite what we had planned, but we have no complaints. As I said before, things don't always go according to plan.

So here's our not-so-little family tree: Christopher James Harrington, born 1987. Jessica Brittany Harrington, born 1989. Emily Joyce Harrington, born 1991. The twins, Eddie Brian and Tiffany Michelle Harrington, born 1993. And lastly, Rachel Alison Harrington, born 1996.

~~~

"Have I told you what a great husband you are?" I murmured, hugging Steve from behind.

"Mm, not yet, I don't think so," he teased, passing down pancakes with the help of Chris.

"Well, you are." I smiled, scattering kisses on my husband's neck (much to our kids' disgust).

"I figured."

I sat down with my family, finishing up breakfast. After that, we all piled into our Winnebago, off on our long talked about Harrington Summer Road Trip.

~~~

So there we are. A whole brood, army, cult, whatever you'd like to call it, of Harringtons. There were some bumps along the way, like the time Steve dropped Eddie when he was two months old. Or the time I forgot Christopher at the grocery store when he was eight. But let's talk about high points: I started taking weekends and Wednesdays off to take care of the kids, and Steve came home earlier and left later for work. We got a dog, a golden retriever named Scooter. Robin comes over to babysit, along with Dustin and El. Sometimes Will tags along on our family trips, dragging Jonathan along. Jess got accepted onto the cheer team, and Tiffany is the head of the mathletes. Ed is a track star, and Rachel is an off-balanced ballerina. Chris is a basketball star, just like his dad. And Emily joined the AV club, ironically enough.

I guess that's it. Our Brood of Harringtons™. And boy, are we happy.

~~~

a/n: i'm sorry that gave me Cheaper By The Dozen vibes :,/ anyways requests are open for any Marvel or Stranger Things requests :)

[stevesbipanic]

Ever since I saw Joe Keery in glasses I've needed to see Steve Harrington in glasses too. Just imagine our sweet boy in glasses, a soft sweater, maybe a cute cat on his lap.

[jerry-hornes-foot]

i just want some soft and loving and tender bangin with steve

Tender Steve!!! 💖💖 I tried to make this as soft and lovely as possible, but it has also been a little poisoned by how obsessed I have become with Steve's big arms !!

790 words

18+ only

Smut, fluff

Steve Harrington x Gender Neutral Reader

Tags: gentle sex; emotions; fluff; outdoor sex; genital touching; pet names; baby (reader)

The water on the lake is so still that the setting sun reflects off it perfectly, casting a warm orange glow onto the beach. Far off in the distance you can hear birds singing softly amongst the tall trees. You'd never been somewhere quite as beautiful as this, and the silence brought with it a safe, serene sense of comfort. Steve is beside you, laid out on his back on the blanket, basking in the warm glow of the setting sun. You roll over and place a hand on his chest, leaning over his face and lightly brushing his hair away from his forehead. Those deep brown eyes of his sparkle under the soft light, delicate flecks of amber accentuating the warm colours of his iris. He smiles up at you, the warmth in his face making your heart melt.

"Thank you for bringing me here." You say softly.

"Thank you for coming."

"I can't believe how quiet it is."

"Not a lot of people know it's here. There's two other beaches on the other side, so I don't think people bother to look any further than that." He stares out across the lake for a moment, then looks back up at you, his cheeks flushing slightly as he speaks. "You're the first person I've ever brought out here."

A lump starts to form in your throat and you can feel tears beginning to prick your eyes. You're so overwhelmed with emotion it's hard to even open your mouth to speak. Leaning forward you press your lips into his, trying your best to keep tears from spilling over onto your cheeks. Steve's arm wraps around you, holding you tightly to his chest as he kisses you back. The warm evening air envelops your bodies like a blanket. Steve's other hand cups your face, sliding round onto the back of your head and pulling you forward slightly so he can kiss you harder.

Steve moans into your mouth as your hand slides down over the strained fabric of his jeans. He rolls his hips up into your hand as you rub him gently through the denim. Sliding your hand back up to his waistband you manage to undo the top button one-handed. Slipping your hand in over the top of his underwear you let your fingers just barely brush up and down the length of him, savouring the feeling of his cock twitching through the fabric. Moving your hand once more you slip down into his underwear and start to stroke his his dick slowly. Steve's tongue slips into your mouth as he rolls onto his side, slipping his own hand down your jeans to touch you while you touch him. Steve pulls away from your lips and rests his forehead against yours, he stares into your eyes for a moment, before closing his eyes and just resting against you as his hand works beneath your clothes. You lie there together for sometime, fingers searching over each other's skin as the sun drops behind the treeline, completely silent save the occasional low groan.

After a little while you slowly begin shedding layers. You pull Steve's t-shirt over his head and cast it onto the sand, he follows suit, lifting your t-shirt away from your body and letting his soft hands run over your ribcage and back. His body moves with you as you slide off his jeans and underwear and toss them aside. Once again he follows your lead, carefully sliding your jeans and underwear away from you. Placing a hand on your shoulder Steve leans into you, pushing you gently onto your back, and hangs over you with a hand on either side of your head to prop himself up. His fingers begin stroking over your skin once more, you moan and pull his head down to yours, kissing him again. Your hands grip tightly to his arms, they tense under your touch and the sensation makes your heart race. Each movement of Steve's hand is so delicate and precise, you can feel your full body twitching with each tender touch. Placing both of your hands gently on his face you pull him away from you and stare up at him.

"Make me cum, Steve?" You ask softly.

Steve smiles. As the sun slips off over the horizon it makes a stunning halo around his head that makes his whole face glow. Grabbing your thighs he pulls you towards him so that you can feel his dick, soaked with precum, rubbing against you. His hands move to your hips and his arms tense again as he lifts you and starts to slowly push into you, making you groan and roll your head back into the blanket.

"Anything for you, baby."