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"Steve is so weird. You're lucky that you weren't around to see some of his shenanigans...wish I would have been," sighed Max, flopping backwards onto Eleven's bed.
You were cooped up in Eleven's bedroom, currently babysitting most of the kids- though they refused to admit that this whole arrangement was 'babysitting.' After all, you were their friend, and they weren't babies, not anymore. You begged to differ, but kept it to yourself, hugging a soft pillow closer to your chest as you smile to yourself, shaking your head, "I dunno, I kind of wish I was there to see his weird little stuff."
"I'm sure you'll get to see his 'weird little stuff' soon enough, don't worry, Y/N."
"Dustin!" you reprimand him, face flushing bright pink, "You know that's not what I meant."
"Yeah, yeah," he spoke, muffled by the bits of nougat stuck in his teeth as he bit down on a 3 Musketeers bar, "and you should cut him a little slack, Max, he has saved our lives multiple times."
"I don't need saving."
"You have no defences against those demo-dogs, Zoomer. What're you gonna do? Skate away?"
"Would you like a live demonstration of what I'd do? Hint, hint—you're the demo-dog," she said, lunging at Dustin, who screamed girlishly.
"Y/N, help me!" he yelled.
"I dunno, Dustin, she makes a fair point."
"THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A DEMOCRACY," he screeched, wriggling out of Max's grip and falling backwards off the bed.
You chuckle to yourself, giving Max a silent high-five. Jumbled argument ensued amongst the group, before you- the babysitter held a hand up, "Children, children."
"You sound like Murray when you say that," Dustin snorted.
"Y/N is not bald," Erica sassed, protectively stroking a hand through your soft hair, which she braided for you occasionally.
"B-bald Eagle," Dustin sniggered, the rest of the group erupting into laughter. They had more or less caught you up on whatever you missed, so you were rather enjoying the jokes too.
"Ha, ha, very funny. Now does someone wanna tell me what Steve's been up to or should I force it out of you?" you wiggle your fingers menacingly, and the kids screeched out a vehement 'NO!.'
"She's going to inte-rro-gate you," Robin smirked in her best impression of a Russian accent.
"No, no!" Dustin sighed, "Jesus Christ, dude, you get captured by Russians once and you lose all moral code," he sighed before continuing, "Steve was fine, well, as fine as Steve can be."
"Very fine," you chip in, revelling in the disgusted groans that fill the room, and the light smack to your shoulder.
"Gross," Erica said, scrunching up her nose.
"The weirdest thing was that Todd father comment."
"The what?" you ask.
"Todd...father?" asked Eleven, who had been quiet the whole time, currently snuggling against Mike's side in one of his navy coloured sweaters.
"Oh, yeah," Erica mused, scrunching up her face once again in a look of what seemed like perpetual disgust, "he slid across the front of some dude's car and said 'Steve's her daddy now.' Whatever that means."
You flushed, choking slightly, "He said what?"
"You heard me, Y/N, don't make me say those words again."
You could feel Robin smirking at you in your peripheral vision, but just smoothed down your skirt and bit your lip, "Well," you finally said, "that was weird indeed."
You had known Steve for about four months now, being Suzie's older sister and all, you hadn't been in Hawkins until the summertime, just shortly after the events with the Upside Down had transpired and after your family had left their cosy little home in Utah. Suzie, of course, had been thrilled to hear that she would be reunited with her, gag— Dusty-Bun, though it was the centre of much speculation that she may have had much to do with this moving choice by placing a certain pamphlet on her Father's desk.
Regardless, you were happy to be in Hawkins, because it meant that you got to hang around Steve Harrington.
You two had been dating for about three months now— starting off as acquaintances when Suzie and Dustin sappily reunited and they shared a hesitant conversation:
"Your sister better not hurt my kid over there," Steve had warned you.
"Your...kid?" You asked, confusion lilting your voice. He looked too young to be a father.
"I'm his...babysitter."
You had laughed at that, much to Steve's dismay, who just frowned petulantly.
"Hey! What's wrong with that?"
You had wiped your eyes on your jacket sleeve, "Absolutely nothing. Seeing as we'll be seeing a lot of each other lately, it's probably for the best that we get acquainted. I'm Y/N," you stuck out her hand in greeting.
Steve glanced down at your hand and then at your face again, eager, waiting, then he shook on it, "I'm Steve."
"You've got quite the hair, Steve."
He quirked an eyebrow, "You've got quite the spunk, Y/N."
"Hm," you said, grinning at him.
"Hm."
From there, you two had continued as begrudging allies— babysitters of the wild kids, item number one: Don't let the shitheads get themselves killed, officially decreed by Steve 'the hair' Harrington himself. You had undeniable chemistry, which you hid behind your seemingly constant bickering. One time, in typical enemies-to-lovers fashion, Steve just flat out kissed you and that was the point where your relationship evolved from bickering acquaintances to boyfriend and girlfriend, though your relationship was anything but devoid of the prior tit-for-tat game of wits and banter.
This was just one of the many times that was true.
"Mm I think you're hiding something from me, Stevie-Bun."
"Never—" he started, holding your wrists from tickling him, where you sat splayed in his lap, above him, "—call me that again."
"What are you gonna do about it, Harrington?" you purred, not missing the way something glinted in Steve's eye at the testing of boundaries, "Gonna call me a bad girl?" you lean a little closer, "Gonna spank me to be good?"
"Jesus, Y/N," he breathed, voice a little deeper than normal, hands coming to rest upon your hips, which were on either side of his own as you straddle him.
"Just Y/N is fine, thank you very much," you laughed, not missing the way Steve's grip tightened around your thighs where your skirt was riding up.
"Mouthy," he growled lowly.
"Mhm," you hummed teasingly, grinning up at him.
"What has gotten into you lately, Y/N?" he admonished, in a way that would seem almost chastening, if you weren't positioned in a way that gave you firsthand knowledge of exactly how Steve was feeling.
"Well, you, for starters,"
Before you could register anything more than the way Steve's jaw hardened at that and the way his eyes seemed to darken, you were on your back, soft sheets below you as Steve hovered over your body, a stray strand of hair falling between your two faces. You were delighted— highly amused, really at the foreign look of sheer gritted determination that had passed over your boyfriend’s eyes. You’d never seen him look so...intense. It was a delightfully rewarding feeling to know that you were able to make the Steve Harrington this undone.
“I’m gonna count to three and you better start to behave, Y/N.”
Silence for a moment, besides the heavy breathing from the both of you.
“One.”
“Two,” he warned.
You bit your lip, gazing up at him with mischief glinting in your eye:
“Make me, daddy.”