Flipped: A Steve Harrington Enemies to Lovers

The Nina Project

"Hey, Dustin, this is Eddie the Banished... you there?"

Eddie's voice rings out as an electronic buzz, and shatters the seemingly serene start to Steve's morning. It bursts from the speaker, too loud and followed by an explosion of feedback that'd make any pair of ears throb. In short, it's a rude and unwelcome intrusion.

Steve tries to ignore it, in hopes one of the gang picks him up from Nancy's. They must be sleeping; Eddie whines on.

"Hello? Anyone? Princess?"

Steve can't help but bite his tongue, hearing that sickening nickname Eddie gives you, as sugary sweet as frilly frosting on a pink cupcake and so not your style. It forces him to sneer.

Picking up the discarded Walkie, Steve answers...

"What do you want, dickhead?" He spits. "She's getting ready for work."

He thinks he hears Eddie snicker from the other end.

"Oh yeah? She in the uniform today?"

That makes Steve's Adam's apple bob in agitation.

He growls, "I'm switching you off now." Then goes to toss the Walkie.

"Wait! Wait! Bad taste, I know," Eddie scrambles some form of pathetic plea together so Steve knows he definitely wants something. "I'm gonna need a food delivery."

Aaaand there it is.

"Can't you get Nancy to do it?" Steve massages his temple.

"Wheeler?" Eddie seems unconvinced. "Think she'll get me a six-pack, too? I know it's stupid as shit drinking right now, but a cold beer would really calm my jangled nerves."

"I don't care- I literally don't care."

"Someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?"

Ugh. Why is it Steve can literally hear this dickhead's grin?

"Nope. 'Cause I woke up next to my girlfriend," Actually he woke up next to you, then made the quick manoeuvre to get under you and position himself in between your legs. But Eddie definitely doesn't need to know that. "See you later, asshole. Over and out."

Steve discards the Walkie before snapping his head right round to the doorframe where you've suddenly apparated, causing his heart to take a bungee jump in his chest.

There you are, uniform-clad and slowly doing up the buttons to your pale blue shirt, the one that seems to hang perfectly from your frame. You tuck it into tight trousers held up by a utility belt. He sees you've strapped your gun to your thigh and why, oh why, did you pick the thigh holster today? You flick your hair, slightly damp, paired with clean, glowing skin, still a little flushed from the shower.

Something about this whole look just works for Steve that he's almost physically pained you won't drag him right back upstairs and cuff him to the bedframe.

"Were you just talking to someone?" You smack your glossy lips together.

Steve shakes his head.

"Don't worry about it," He says, still slightly glazed over as he ogles you. "Ready to go?"

"Yep," You smooth your hair then place the wide-brimmed hat to your head. "And remember, I'm leaving work later and going straight there, to meet you all at Reefer Rick's."

"Yeah, yeah. To play watchdog for Eddie..." He rolls his eyes before allowing them to drift across the notably empty utility belt.

He questions with an air of slight alarm, "Sure you don't wanna pack your tazer? Pepper spray?"