(Credit for my amazing header: @lady-bess ilysm)
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✧I write for Pedro Pascal characters, Ben Barnes characters and Steve Harrington
✧I want to write for Matt Murdock and Dean Winchester whenever inspiration strikes
✧ao3 profile
✧smut= 🔥 (minors dni)
angst= ☁️
fluff= 💕
✧I do not give anyone permission to repost any of my works on here or any other sites. Everything written is written by a real person with no ai involved.
summary: reader finds out she is pregnant and figures out a cute and silly way to tell her fiancé steve after remembering something from their past
warnings: tooth rooting fluff, pregnancy, flashback to a ST moment re-written to fit the story, tiniest bit of angst in the flashback, silly but cute pregnancy announcement, fiancé Steve, mentions of past smutty times without the details, I think that’s all. Let me know if I missed anything
word count: 2.4k
author’s notes: another steve fic is here!! this was so fun and i loved writing this so much. i have one more steve fic that is done but i also have a matt murdock fic in the works as well. i hope you all enjoy!!
The blurry sun beams came through the small frosted window above the shower in the bathroom serving as the only light. You watched them for a moment before standing and pacing, again. The kitchen timer on the sink made its mocking ticks as it passed the minutes like hours. This had been the worst wait of your entire life. You stepped just outside of the bathroom and stuck your head into the bedroom to look at the alarm clock on the nightstand. The kitchen timer was right. You swore it was laughing. It had only been a few minutes. You made your way back into the bathroom not letting your eyes fall to the three sticks that sat there. You sat on the toilet and your leg started to rapidly shake. Your nerves were on end. You were late.
After waking up this morning and starting on your day it hit you. You remembered passing the calendar that hung on the side of the fridge and freezing. Your eyebrows had knitted together and you sat your then empty coffee cup down before standing there and counting the dates twice. You felt your stomach do a somersault. You weren’t scared by any means, no you were excited. You had quickly dressed from your pjs you hadn’t made it out of yet and drove outside of town to buy the pregnancy tests. Three to be extra sure. You refused to let this get back to your fiancé before you could be sure and everyone in Hawkins knew him and loved to talk.
Steve Harrington came into your life with a swing of a bat at a monster from an alternate dimension, The Upside Down. It had for sure turned your world upside down. It had been a storm that was all consuming and terrifying but Steve never left your side and never dropped your hand. It was always a bit crazy to you that in the face of such things the two of you found yourselves falling more and more for each other. One of the few normal days Steve finally took you on a normal date and things all went up from there. The two of you were joined at the hip. Then Hawkins split in four. Fear consumed your every waking moment because now you had friends that had turned into a family to worry about. And someone who you loved deeply.
The finale battle had been messy, scary and all of you didn’t make it out but the world kept turning. You sat on the edge of your seat for months. Steve and yourself seem to test the waters of life by making small moves towards what you had both dreamed of and talked about. Getting jobs, saving the money, finding a place. It took awhile for the two of you to finally agree to buy the little place over in Forest Hills. You were waiting for the other shoe to drop, holding your breath and it never did. Six months passed, then a whole year. Then one day Steve picked you up from work and drove you to your new home. It wasn’t much but it belonged to you and it was a start. A start you had been waiting on.
Then one night lying in each other’s arms on the couch in the dim lighting of the tv playing something pointless Steve looked down at you and popped the question. It was so very your relationship for it to be a question in passing on a random night. It was the easiest yes you had ever given. A few days later even though it has been talked about before the two of you had the serious conversation about starting a family. You agreed that you wanted to wait, enjoy each other and find your feet planted firmly on the ground before truly trying. Sometimes things don’t go as planned do they? It was a lesson you knew all too well. As you sat there waiting you thought back to when it happened and your palm found your forehead at the realization. It was a heated night. Neither of you could sleep which was not unusual but Steve had been particularly clingy that night which never bothered you. It had just happened and neither of you had thought about the protection you didn’t bother to put in place. Now here you sat.
The kitchen timer went off and you jumped slightly before stopping it with shaking hands. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before picking up the first test. Two lines were as clear as they could get. You looked at the other two to find the same thing. Your hand went over your mouth and your face split into a wide smile before you let out a sob. Joyful tears pushed their way down your face as it hit you again. You were pregnant. You couldn’t believe it. You let yourself have a moment before pulling it together and wiping your face. Now you had to think how you were going to tell Steve. The thought came to you with a laugh as you remembered something he had said once that became a joke between your friend group.
*flashback*
You kept your eyes glued to the outside that zoomed by as Steve drove all of you in a stolen RV to The War Zone to get weapons. That was honestly something you never thought would cross your mind but a lot of crazy things had happened in the past few years. You glance at Steve from your seat as he drives. Nancy in the passenger seat which made your stomach sink slightly. Steve and yourself were not official yet but it was one of those goes without saying kind of things. Until now that was. Your mind wandered to the worst of places and you hated yourself for it because you adored Nancy and you knew she would never do anything to hurt you. Steve either for that matter but there was history and therefore it made you think entirely too much.
“Six nuggets?” Nancy’s voice brought you back and you couldn’t stop yourself from listening.
“Six little nuggets. All of that, that life I pictured with you.”
Silence for a moment. You couldn’t hear anything else but the sudden ringing in your ears. You don’t glance back or listen any further. You got up and walked to sit with Dustin and Eddie. You had to push it all away because your love life was the least of anyone’s problems. Right now your focus was on saving Max and the rest of Hawkins.
Your eyes fell on every single person around you. You took them each in like you were remembering them just in case. The idea made you close your eyes briefly but there was a feeling in your gut that everyone wasn’t making it out of this alive. It was an unfortunate thing in the face of what you were up against.
“Hey you okay? You’ve been…weird today. Aside from the obvious I mean,” Steve’s voice made you slightly jump as he sat next to you, his leg resting against yours.
“Yeah I’m fine.” You wanted to slap yourself.
“Are you sure? Hey,” Steve’s voice dropped to a gentle tone and you looked at him. “Talk to me.”
You sat there for a moment searching his face really thinking if this was the right time to bring this up but there could never be another chance. You couldn’t go into this fight unsure of what was going on between Steve and yourself.
“Six nuggets?” It was simple but you could tell Steve knew exactly what you were talking about.
“You heard that huh?”
“Yeah. I did.”
After a moment Steve sat up straighter and gave you a look of confusion.
“How much did you hear?”
“You said you wanted that life with Nancy…” you trailed off looking down at the weapon you were working on.
“Oh sweetheart,” the nickname made you look at him and he was smiling softly. “That’s what I said yes but you didn’t stick around for the whole thing. I said that but then Nancy asked me what I saw now and I said that I saw that life with you. One day. I hope.”
“Wait really?” You spoke your hope sparking again and your stomach flipping in the best way.
“Yes. Does that freak you out?”
“Not at all,” you smiled a little bigger.
“Good because as long as we make it out of this alive I’m taking you on a real date. Several dates if you’ll have me.”
“I would love that Steve.”
Six nuggets. You smiled again with a soft laugh before grabbing your keys and heading out the door.
You walked back through the door of your home with a McDonald’s bag in your hand. You glance at the clock and note you had about 30 more minutes before Steve was due home. It was the off season for baseball so he got home a lot sooner and today you were overly thankful for that. You could feel the butterflies flying around your stomach in anticipation as you moved around your home. You couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you grabbed a sticky note and a pen writing in your best handwriting, “one nugget down, five more to go.” You stuck it to the top of a box containing six chicken nuggets and slipped them back in the bag.
You didn’t even bother to sit. The signs that school was out came soon. Kids coming home and riding their bikes. The breaks of the school bus on the main road. It sent you pacing more and further. Down the hallway to the bathroom and back. The three tests sat in your back pocket covered by your shirt. You fumbled with your fingers as you paced, glancing outside every few minutes. Then Steve’s truck was coming down the road and pulling into your driveway. You took a deep breath trying to calm your racing heart. You knew the man was going to know something was up the second he walked in the door. He could read you like a book but you tried to school your face the best you could. You watched him as you often did. He had chosen just a button up shirt today with a pair of trousers and loafers. The ones you had bought him for Christmas. His tie was already gone and you saw it in his hand, no doubt getting rid of it the second he climbed in the truck. His bag he took back and forth for lunch and papers hung on his shoulder and you couldn’t help but to think how lucky you were.
“Well hello there…”his voice faded and he came to a dead stop right inside the door still holding it open with one hand. “What’s wrong?”
He was panicking. His eyes widened and he moved quickly in the house, the door slamming. He was in front of you in seconds looking you over, bag hitting the floor with a thud.
“Nothing!! Nothing is wrong Steve. Um there is a surprise for you on the counter in the kitchen,” you pointed and his eyebrows pulled together in confusion.
“Okay,” he let the word draw out as he picked up his bag, laying it on the couch and then started for the kitchen.
You followed him closely. He saw the bag pointed at it and looked at you. You gave him a simple nod biting your lip to keep yourself from smiling too hard or blurting it out. He cocked his head slightly at you, one eyebrow going up. He was really cute when he was clueless. You watched him open the bag and peer inside.
“What?” The word came out softly as he reached inside and pulled out the box.
You stepped fully behind him so he would have to fully turn around to view you. You pulled the three tests from your pocket holding them in both hands waiting. You heard him mumble the words on the note before the box fell to the counter making you jump slightly. Steve turned pure shock, tears dancing in his eyes already. His mouth was already open, about to speak when he saw the test.
“No way,” he spoke it in a breath. “Are you serious sweetheart?”
He froze like he was afraid you were pulling a prank on him. Your face broke into a smile and you let out a laugh as tears finally broke free again. You nodded quickly.
“I’m very serious honey,” you spoke as he slightly bent and then jumped in the air like a man who just scored a home run.
“You’re pregnant!! Oh my god we are going to have a baby!” He all but yelled and you threw your head back in a laugh.
His arms were around you in seconds causing you to let out a yelp and then a laugh. He twirled you around before bringing your face down and letting his lips fall to yours. You kissed him back as he froze letting you down but not letting you go. The kiss made you dizzy and you smiled against his lips. When he pulled away his forehead fell to yours for a moment.
“Let me see,” he spoke gently as he reached out for the test and you handed them over.
“I wanted to be sure so I went with three. Honestly I’m surprised I didn’t buy two more,” you laughed softly.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were late?” It was not said with a tone to set you back, it was just awe.
“I didn’t realize until this morning. I walked by the calendar, glanced at the date and realized. I counted twice to be sure I was right. Sure enough,” you shrugged. “I drove out of town because I know people in this town like to talk too much. You would have known in an hour.”
“You are probably very right about that,” Steve chuckled. “Holy shit I can’t believe this is happening. I know we said we were going to be careful given we are not really ready but…”
“Steve, we will figure it out. I know we will. We have everything else so we will do this too. Together.”
Steve let out a laugh, more tears down his face and you couldn’t help but to laugh with him. He brushed the tears from your cheek, his hand resting there after.
“You are going to be the best mom.”
“And you, Steve Harrington, are going to be the best dad.”
NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.
Writing for Matt Murdock has served as a challenge to me. (In the absolute best way I may add) I’m currently going through my first fic with him fine tuning things to make sense. I just hope those who read it will be kind for this first go around. I’m excited to put it out there but also incredibly nervous.
summery: reader has a nightmare about losing steve and when she wakes up he has to remind her that he is really there with her.
warnings: nightmare, slight spoilers for st5, upside down, mentions of heights, established relationship, character death…kind of, use of y/n (sorry), mentions of vomiting but not in detail, steve is the sweetest, mentions of trauma, p in v sex, unprotected sex (seriously wrap it up), this is so sweet you may want to call your dentist after, hopefully i didn’t miss anything
word count: 2.2k
author’s notes: i still suck at summaries. this one was a lot of fun to write if i’m being completely honest. i did a rewatch and as soon as that certain part happened this idea just came to life. i hope you all enjoy it and remember you are in charge of what you read! also if anyone wants to be added to a tag list for my steve fics please let me know!
Deep breath. In through your nose and out through your mouth. Your feet were firmly planted, you just needed to remember when you opened your eyes not to look down, or even out for that matter. Just look up. A gentle hand found its way to your lower back under your makeshift shield.
“You okay?” Steve’s voice was low just for you to hear.
You opened your eyes and met his, worry clear on his face. You gave him a soft smile and a simple nod.
“I’m okay. Just getting my bearings."
“Hopefully we won’t be up here long. I know you hate heights.”
“Up here? I’m still on the ground. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Steve started to laugh which was such a rare thing to happen in a place like this. Like the Upside Down. In the face of what was going on. The plan that you prayed went right but could and most likely would go wrong. You had to find little bits of peace where you could. Steve’s laugh was that for you. You joined him but the moment was so brief, short lived. You hung on to it even when you heard Dustin’s voice from behind you.
“Mother of God.”
Everyone’s heads snapped up and he had a right to say what he did. Your stomach plummeted as you saw what was in the sky above your heads moving down and quickly. You knew what hid just past the rifts that were now opening up and you noticed it first.
“It’s not lining up.”
The riff opening up above the tower wasn’t lining up with the very top. Which meant…
“If it keeps coming this tower is going to fall,” Lucas said.
Yeah it meant that. You gulped and Steve took your hand moving you to the side.
“You hold on to this. Don’t let go.”
Your head snapped to him and his eye met yours again. He came down for a quick kiss. It was like a goodbye and you knew at any moment it could serve as just that. You gave him another nod. Non-spoken words moved between the two of you before Steve himself nodded. The first impact pulled you back and rocked you. Your knees buckled, your eyes closed tight and you grasped the railing around you so hard you were sure it was going to leave marks. Another rock as the abyss moved down further and further. Your eyes opened. Everyone was grabbing at something and your eyes searched until they fell to Steve. He was looking up and your eyes traveled seeing exactly what he was. The rest of the tower above you, the antenna, was breaking and it was going to fall. When it did it was going to take something with it.
Everything seemed to move so slow. Just like those cheesy dramatic scenes in movies. The worst noise you had ever heard echoed around you as the piece broke and it fell. You saw it before it happened, you knew in the short moments. Your eyes fell and you saw that Steve was already looking at you. You went to move and he shook his head frantically. Then the antenna snapped the railing close to Steve and he tried to hang on but he lost his footing and he was falling over the side of the tower.
The scream that tore through you could have been heard back in Hawkins. Hopper probably heard it at the lab. Hell, Vecna probably heard it. You moved forward, your heart pounding in your ears. Steve’s fingers were grasping at the edge.
“SOMEONE HELP ME!” You screamed, not bothering to look behind you.
You kept your eyes on Steve thinking if you dared to look away he would completely fall.
“Hang on, I'm going to help you up!” You cried out tears already falling down your face.
Steve didn’t get a chance to answer. You didn’t get a chance to even try. You went to reach for him just as his fingers gave out. His fingers brushed yours before he fell disappearing from your sight in seconds. Another scream ripped through you…
“(Y/N),” your name echoed from somewhere far away and then your eyes were shooting open.
Your stomach lurched in a way that made you move quickly. You didn’t even think, didn’t even look around before you shot out of bed and ran into the bathroom. You fell to the cold floor with a painful jolt and threw open the toilet seat before your stomach emptied of its contents. Gentle hands pulled at your hair gently trying to move it out of the way before a hand fell to your back rubbing in gentle circles.
“Let it out.”
The voice to your left made you close your eyes and you realized then you were crying. Never had you been so thankful to hear that voice in your life. It was just a nightmare. You laid your head over on your arm that had stayed slightly holding the seat cover. You gave yourself a moment before your eyes slowly opened and even though they were a little blurry there was no mistaking the man next to you. Steve. He was okay. It was just a nightmare. He had been asleep next to you the entire time. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding and it shook as a sob followed.
“Hey shhh. It’s okay. I’m right here,” Steve’s voice was low, almost a whisper as he pulled you to him.
He sat against the cabinet and pulled you into his lap. You curled into him and let yourself cry. It wasn’t the first time this had happened and you had your fair share of times holding Steve as he cried in your arms. It was all a part of the shared experiences the two of you had. The things you had been through. You hated but loved all at once that he had been there for all of it, right by your side. His fingers brushed at your hair and down your arm as he let you work through it. Finally you felt yourself calm down and you sat yourself up slightly but not going far.
“I’m sorry,” your voice was broken and small.
“There is not a single thing to be sorry about sweetheart,” Steve let out an amused chuckle as his fingers brushed at your face trying to wipe away the tears staining your face.
“I woke you up,” you mumbled as you looked down, coming to his bare chest.
“Never apologize for that. I’d rather lose sleep to be there for you than finding out you went through something alone. Do you want to talk about it yet or…”
It had been an agreement between the two of you when this became common that the two of you would always talk the nightmares through. You would debunk the other’s worries however you needed to and it helped the both of you in the past move past things.
“Jonathan didn’t save you. On the tower. You fell and I couldn’t…I couldn’t get you in time. Your fingers, they brushed mine…I was so close…”
“Hey look at me,” Steve’s hands fell to each side of your face making you look at him. “I’m right here. I didn’t fall. Jonathan saved me. I’m here.”
You hadn’t realized the tears had started again until his fingers brushed under your eyes once again. You raised a hand and placed it on his face letting yourself feel him even more. He leaned into the touch but never once did his eyes fall away from yours.
“I’m right here,” he whispered the words again and you let the moment linger for a moment, your forehead falling to his gently.
“I need to brush my teeth,” you mumbled the words and Steve let out a small laugh.
“We can pause this just for a moment. I’ll be right here.”
You nodded before standing up slowly and brushing your teeth quickly. Once you were done you found yourself right back where you were.
“Now where were we?” Steve spoke gently before one of his hands went to the back of your neck and he brought your lips to his.
It was a soft kiss, another way for you to be sure. You moved so that you were straddling him and you let your hand that rest of his cheek travel to his hair. He wrapped his other arm around you and pulled you as close to him as he possibly could. The kiss deepened and you let out a shuddering noise against his lips. He pulled away with reluctance panting.
“Come on sweetheart let’s go back to bed and I’ll make sure you know I’m really here.” Steve whispered and you nodded your head with a whimper.
You were desperate for this. To know for sure you weren’t going to wake up again and this had been a dream. That his side of the bed would be cold and he was really gone. It was not the first time either. Sometimes a nightmare just really got to one of you and you found yourselves tangled together. Positive that the other was really there next to you.
The moment the two of you stood Steve pulled you back to him and his lips were back on yours. He moved the two of you from the bathroom to the bedroom and soon the back of your legs were hitting the mattress. He slowly laid you down on the bed towering over you, one arm keeping him hovering while the other brushed at your hair. His lips never fell away and you never wanted them to. If you could freeze a single moment it would have been this one. His hand started to travel as you wrapped your arms around his neck and threading your fingers in his hair. He wasn’t going to waste time and you were thankful for that. His finger slipped in the waistband on your underwear which was the only piece of clothing on your body aside from one of his shirts and pulled them down. He then moved to push his down and you leaned forward slightly to help. His lips finally fell from yours, both of you panting for air.
“Look at me,” it was a whispered, a gentle command and you followed it, locking your eyes to his.
You watched his hand travel discovering you were wet enough for him to continue and then he was entering you so slowly it took your entire willpower to keep your eyes open. You let out a gasp that changed to a whimper as Steve pushed deeper and he let out a groan, both of you finally letting your eyes flutter closed. Steve only paused for a moment before he set a pace. It was faster but gentle as it always was in moments like this. It still sent you flying in a way only Steve could.
“I’m here,” Steve whispered and you pushed your eyes open to look up at him, finding him already looking at you.
The brief moment that matched in your nightmare flashed when you blinked and you pulled him closer. He took one of your hands and laced his fingers with yours squeezing as to repeat the last thing he said again.
“You got me. I’m not going anywhere,” Steve spoke in a whisper with a moan following after.
You didn’t stop the tears as they fell once more. Your body and mind now agree that the man above you was really here and was going nowhere. You wrapped a leg around him pushing him further inside of you at a different angle and you let out a moan. Steve swallowed it with a kiss before picking up his speed and his hips started to move a little less gently. You didn’t mind. Your orgasm was deep in your belly and climbing higher by the second.
“Steve,” you whimpered out his name, your lips falling from his.
“I’ve got you sweetheart. Let go.”
You did just that falling apart around him. You clung to him as he stilled inside of you, spilling every last bit of what he had into you. You shuddered at the feeling, at the reminder. Your chest heaved, your skin now shined softly with sweat but you smiled.
“There’s my girl,” Steve spoke with accomplishment and a smile of his own.
You let out a soft laugh before he moved from you. Both of you hissed at the loss. He got up and you watched as he went to the bathroom wetting a washcloth. He was gentle as he first cleaned your face and then between your legs before discarding it. He climbed back into bed not even bothering with clothes again and pulled you close before pulling the covers over you. You curled into him before looking up at him. One arm was behind his head propping him up better and the other threaded through your hair and down your back gently.
“Thank you Stevie,” you spoke finally after a few moments of just lying there catching your breath.
“Never thank me sweetheart. You do the same for me each and every time.”
“Always.” You smiled up at him.
“Always,” he reached down and kissed your forehead.
The next time you closed your eyes you were met with good dreams of nights just like the one you left behind in reality. You knew when you opened your eyes the man you loved would still be there holding you close and reminding you that he was here with you.
Grumpy!Steve harrington x fem!sunshine!reader, 2.4k words
Summary — A domestic night in with your boyfriend.
The rain starts in the late afternoon, soft at first, then heavier, drumming against the windows.
You're in the kitchen when it starts, standing at the counter with a recipe book open in front of you, your hair pulled back, wearing one of Steve's old shirts and underwear and nothing else.
Steve finds you there when he comes out of the bedroom, fresh from a shower, his hair still damp, a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips. He leans against the doorframe and watches you for a minute. There's flour on the counter, a little dusting of it on your wrist, and you've got a pan out and a pot for the pasta and a small bowl where you've already started chopping herbs.
"You're cooking," he says.
You look up, and your face lights up the way it always does when you see him, like you're surprised he's there, like you're happy about it every single time.
"I'm cooking," you confirm. "I thought we could have a night in. With the rain and everything. I found this recipe for pasta, the one with the lemon and the herbs, remember? We had it at that place on Main, and you said you liked it, so I thought I'd try to—"
He crosses the kitchen, and his hands find your waist, moving you gently, manhandling you a step to the left so he can reach the cabinet behind you. "Excuse me," he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear.
You feel warmth crawl up your neck as he pulls out a pan, sets it on the stove, and then his hands are on you again, moving you back to where you were standing. You laugh softly, and he grins, and then he's beside you, his shoulder brushing yours, his hip against the counter.
"What's first?" he asks.
You look at the recipe, then at the ingredients. "I need to chop the garlic. And the herbs. And then there's the sauce, and then the pasta, and—"
"Okay." He reaches for the garlic to start peeling. You've cooked together enough times that you don't need to talk about who does what. It's like breathing at this point, the way you move around each other.
Steve slides the garlic across the cutting board toward you, and you crush it with the flat of your knife, the way he taught you, and he watches your hands for a second before turning to the stove.
"You got the lemons?" he asks.
"In the bowl. I already juiced them."
He glances over, sees the bowl of pale yellow liquid, the pile of spent rinds beside it. His mouth curves. "You started without me."
"You were in the shower."
"You could have waited."
You shrug, smiling. "I was excited."
He reaches for you, just for a second, his hand on the back of your neck, his thumb brushing your jaw. "Cute," he says, and then he's back to the stove, heating the pan, adding oil, waiting for it to shimmer.
You work around each other like two pieces of the same puzzle. He reaches for the salt, and you're already handing it to him. You need the herbs, and he's sliding the cutting board toward you before you can ask. He's at the stove, stirring the sauce, and you're at the counter, dropping pasta into boiling water, and somehow you never bump into each other, never get in each other's way.
"This needs more lemon," he says, and you're already handing him the bowl.
"More garlic, too?"
He dips a spoon into the sauce, holds it out to you. You taste it, your lips closing around the spoon, and he watches your face, waiting.
"More lemon," you confirm. "And a little salt."
He grins. "That's what I said."
"You didn't say the salt."
"I was about to."
You laugh, and he adds the garlic, stirs it in, and then his hand finds your hip again, just resting there, a warm weight while you drain the pasta and he finishes the sauce.
"You're going to burn yourself," you say, nodding at the pan.
"I'm watching it."
"You're watching me."
He doesn't deny it. His hand squeezes your hip, and then he's turning back to the stove, adding the pasta to the sauce, tossing it together the way the recipe shows. You stand beside him, your shoulder pressed to his arm.
"What do you think?" he murmurs, picking up the pan by the handle, tilting it so you can see.
"I think," you say, "that we're getting good at this."
Steve's smile widens. He sets the pan down, pulls you into his side, presses a kiss to your temple. "We're getting good at everything."
Dinner is ready at seven. You plate it yourself, two bowls, a sprinkle of parmesan on top, a twist of black pepper. Steve is already at the table, watching you, his chin in his hand, his eyes soft.
"You're staring," you say, setting his bowl in front of him.
"I'm admiring."
You sit across from him, tuck your legs up under you, pick up your fork. "You're going to make me blush."
"Good." He picks up his own fork, takes a bite, and his eyes close for a second. When they open, they're fixed on your face. "This is really good. Like, really good."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." He takes another bite, and he doesn't look at his bowl. He doesn't look at anything else. Just you. "You're getting better at this. Every time."
"It's not just me. You helped."
"I chopped garlic. You did everything else."
"I would have burnt the sauce without you."
He grins. "Probably."
You talk while you eat. It's easy, the way it always is with him. He tells you about his day, about the kids at work, about a funny thing Robin said that made him laugh so hard he almost choked on his coffee. You tell him about your day, about the book you're reading, about the woman who came into the shop and bought flowers for herself because she said she deserved them, and wasn't that just the best thing?
"It is," he says. "The best thing."
He's still watching you. His bowl is almost empty, and he's still watching you, his fork moving automatically, his eyes never leaving your face. You feel it, the weight of his attention, the warmth of it.
It makes you want to be quiet, to let him look, to let him fill himself up on the sight of you the way he's filling himself up on the food.
"You're doing it again," you say, soft.
"Doing what?"
"Looking at me like that."
He sets his fork down, leans back in his chair. His eyes are soft, darker in the low light, and there's a small smile on his mouth that makes your stomach flip. "Like what?"
You don't have words for it. You never have words for it. The way he looks at you sometimes, like you're something he's still surprised to have, like you're something he's never going to take for granted. You shake your head, look down at your bowl, and you can feel his smile across the table, warm and steady.
"You're cute when you're shy," he says.
"I'm not shy."
"You're blushing."
You are. You can feel it, the heat in your cheeks, and you press your hands to your face and laugh, and he laughs too, and the sound of it mixes with the rain, fills up the kitchen, fills up your chest.
After dinner, you move to the couch. Steve settles first, stretching out, his arm along the back, and you curl up beside him, your legs tucked under you, your head finding his shoulder like it belongs there. The TV is on but neither of you are watching. The apartment is dark except for your favourite lamp in the corner, casting the living room in gold.
Steve's hand finds your hair, fingers threading through it, slow and lazy. His chest rises and falls under your cheek, steady and warm, and you let your eyes close, just for a minute, just to feel it.
"You're getting sleepy," he says.
"I'm not."
"You're barely keeping your eyes open."
"I'm resting them."
His hand moves from your hair to your shoulder, then your arm, then your hand. He pulls it to his chest, holds it there, his thumb tracing circles on your palm.
"You can fall asleep," he says. "I've got you."
"M not gonna fall asleep."
"Okay."
"I'm not."
"Okay, sweetheart."
You open your eyes, just to prove him wrong. He's looking down at you, that soft look on his face, the one that makes your chest go tight. His thumb is still moving on your palm, slow and soothing, and you feel yourself sinking, sinking, the warmth of him pulling you under.
"I love your hands," you murmur.
His thumb stops. "What?"
"Your hands." You turn yours over, lace your fingers through his. "They're so big. I like when you hold my hand. I like when you cook with me. I like when you touch my face."
He's quiet for a moment. When he speaks, his voice is lower, softer. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Your eyes are closing again. You can't help it. "I like everything about you. Did I ever tell you that? Everything."
"You tell me."
"I mean it." You press closer, your face against his chest, his heartbeat under your ear. "I like your hair. I like your laugh. I like the way you say my name. I like—"
Your voice fades. You're not sure what you were going to say. It doesn't matter. He knows, you think.
"Sweetheart," he says, and his voice is so soft, so gentle, like he's talking to something small and precious. "You're falling asleep."
"Mmm."
"Come on. Let's get you to bed."
He shifts, and his hands slide under you, one behind your back, one under your knees, and you're being lifted, cradled against his chest. You curl into him automatically, your face finding his neck, your arms looping around his shoulders. He smells like your soap and home.
"I can walk," you mumble.
"I know."
"You don't have to carry me."
"I want to."
You sigh, content, and your fingers find the collar of his shirt, play with the fabric.
He carries you through the dark apartment, past the kitchen, past the windows where the rain is still falling, soft now, almost silent. The bedroom is dark, the sheets cool when he lays you down, but he doesn't let go. He stays there, leaning over you, his hands braced on either side of your head, his face close to yours.
"There," he says. "Comfortable?"
You reach for him, your hand finding his cheek. His skin is warm, a little rough from the day, and he leans into your touch, his eyes closing.
"Stay," you whisper.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"I know." Your thumb traces his cheekbone. "I just like saying it."
He turns his head, presses a kiss to your palm. "You're sweet when you're sleepy."
"I'm always sweet."
"You're always sweet," he agrees softly, smiling. Then he pulls back, and you make a sound of protest, but he's not leaving. He's just standing up, reaching for the covers. "Let me tuck you in."
You let him. You let him pull the blanket up to your chin, let him smooth it down, let him stand there for a moment, looking down at you with something soft and wondering in his eyes.
Then you remember. "Stevie."
"Yes, angel?"
"I gotta brush my teeth," you mumble sleepily.
He laughs, a breath of sound against your skin. "Okay. Come on."
He lifts you again, carries you to the bathroom, and you let him. You always let him. He sits you on the counter, the cool marble pressing against your thighs, and your legs dangle, and you watch him move around the bathroom, getting his toothbrush, getting yours.
He puts toothpaste on both brushes, hands yours to you, and then he's standing between your legs, his chest against your knees, and you brush your teeth together. It's silly, it's so silly, and you're both smiling around the foam, and his free hand is on your thigh, keeping you steady, keeping you close.
You spit, rinse, and he does the same, and then he takes your brush from your hand, sets them both on the counter. His hands find your waist, thumbs pressing into the soft skin there.
"There," he says. "Clean."
His hands slide up your back, pulling you against him, and you wrap your arms around his neck, let him hold you. He's warm, so warm, and his heart is beating against your chest, and you think about how you get to have this, every night, every day, for as long as you want.
"I love you," you murmur into his neck.
His arms tighten around you. "I love you too."
He lifts you again, carries you back to the bedroom, and this time he doesn't put you down. He climbs into bed with you, still holding you, and arranges you on top of him, your head on his chest, your legs tangled with his.
"Better?" he asks.
You nod, your cheek rubbing against his shirt. "You're comfy."
He pulls the blanket up around you both, tucks it in, and then his hand is in your hair, stroking, slow and steady.
"Go to sleep," he says. "I've got you."
You want to say something else. Something about how much you love him, about how safe you feel, about how you never want to leave this moment. But you're so tired, and his hand is in your hair, and his heart is under your ear, and the rain has stopped, and the world is quiet.
"Stevie," you whisper.
His breath catches. "Yeah, sweetheart?"
You smile against his chest. "Goodnight."
He exhales, slow and soft. His lips press to your hair, linger there. "Goodnight, angel. I'll be right here."
And he is. When you wake in the morning, he's still there, his arms around you, his face turned toward yours, his breathing slow and even. You watch him for a moment, the way his lashes rest on his cheeks, the way his mouth is soft, the way his hand is still curled around your waist
You press a kiss to his jaw, and his arms tighten around you, even before he wakes.
