Kazu

28 y/o * aggressively makes tea *

[firelilyfox]

ＭΛＳＴΞＲＬＩＳＴ

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welcome to my little corner of the world here you find a collection of the characters I've been writing about

𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 & 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

Bucky Barnes

Steve Harrington

Robert Reynolds

Cameron Cassmore

Paul Atreides

Willy Wonka

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[firelilyfox]

I’m getting so much propaganda of phineas and ferb and I was thinking of two scenarios for request:

1. something like phineas and Isabela where reader just loves steve for years, always being there for him all the time but he doesn’t notice. until the day she just give up and decide to move on, and that’s when he realizes how much he adores her

2. reader being like candace, super in love with steve (jeremy) and thinking he doesn’t like her back but he is absolutely obsessed with her

here is scenario one for you! i will put a link for number two in the post when i post it 💕

a little slow

Pairing: Steve Harrington x female reader

Warnings: none really. fluff. confessions. idiots in love. friends to lovers. no use of y/n.

_________________

If someone had asked Steve Harrington when he'd gotten used to you, he wouldn't have been able to answer. Because it hadn't happened all at once.

It had happened slowly. One movie night at a time, one drive home after work and one cup of coffee left on his car because you knew he'd had an early shift.

One day after another until your presence stopped feeling like something rare. It just…felt like life, because you were always there.

Waiting outside Family Video when his shift ended or saving him a seat.

Remembering the little things. The way he took his coffee or the songs he skipped on the radio. Even the anniversary of his grandmother's death.

The fact that thunderstorms still made him uneasy after everything Hawkins had become.

You remembered all of it. Steve loved you. He just hadn't realized that was what it was called.

Robin figured it out first. "You know she likes you, right?"

Steve looked up from rewinding a tape. "What?"

Robin blinked. "…Seriously?"

"As a friend?"

She stared at him for so long he became uncomfortable. "Oh my God."

"What?"

"You actually don't know."

"I don't know what?"

Robin laughed once. "Steve."

"What?"

"She looks at you like you hung the moon."

Steve rolled his eyes. "No, she doesn't."

"She absolutely does."

"Robin."

"I'm serious."

Steve shrugged. "She's just… nice."

Robin actually groaned. "I am surrounded by idiots."

You decided to stop loving Steve on a Tuesday. Not because you wanted to but because you had to.

You were tired. Tired of hoping. Tired of reading into every smile. Every lingering hug and every time his hand found yours without thinking.

Only for nothing to happen.

You couldn't keep waiting for a future Steve didn't even know you wanted.

So… You stopped. Not all at once. You still answered his calls. But you stopped reaching first. If he wanted your company…

He'd have to ask.

You told yourself it was healthier this way and maybe it was.

But it still hurt.

Steve noticed after two days. Because something was missing. He couldn't explain it. Family Video felt quieter. He reached for the phone three different nights before remembering…

You hadn't called. Huh. Weird.

A week later Steve walked out of work expecting to see you leaning against your car. You weren't there.

He checked his watch. Maybe you were late.

Robin watched him scan the parking lot. "…Looking for someone?"

"No."

"You've looked outside six times."

"I was…" He frowned. "I thought she'd be here."

Robin's expression softened. "She stopped waiting for you."

"…Why?"

Robin gave him a look. "You really don't get it, huh?."

Another week.

Steve bought Chinese takeout and automatically ordered your favorite. Only realizing when he got home. "…Huh."

He stared at the second carton for a long time. Then he ate alone.

The apartment felt… Wrong and way too quiet. He turned on the TV. Turned it off again.

He actually caught himself reaching for the phone but his fingers stopped over your number. He couldn't think of a good enough reason to call.

So he didn't.

Nancy noticed next. "You look miserable."

"I'm fine."

"You've been staring out that window for ten minutes."

Steve sighed. "I think…" He rubbed a hand across his face. "I think I miss my friend."

Nancy smiled sadly. "Just your friend?"

Steve opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "…Yeah?"

Nancy waited. He frowned. "…Maybe." She kept waiting. "I don't like that she doesn't call anymore."

Nancy nodded.

"I don't like eating dinner by myself." Another nod. "I don't like not knowing how her day went."

Steve's voice had become quieter. "I keep hearing songs she likes." He laughed once but without humor. "I almost bought that stupid strawberry candy yesterday because she always steals mine."

Nancy's smile became impossibly gentle. "And?"

Steve looked at her completely lost. "I just…" His eyes drifted toward the window. "…I miss her."

Nancy reached across the table. Covered his hand with hers. "I know."

"No." Steve swallowed. "I don't think you do." His voice cracked. "I miss…" He searched desperately for the right word. Not seeing you. Not talking to you. Not hanging out. It was bigger than that.

He missed… You. Your existence in his life.

The way everything felt lighter when you were around and the way he looked for you in every room without realizing. How every good story made him think, I have to tell her.

His heart sank. "Oh."

Nancy smiled softly. "There it is. He finally got it."

Steve looked up. Eyes wide. "Oh." Everything clicked into place. Every hug. Every inside joke. Every drive. Every lazy Sunday. Every time you'd fallen asleep on his shoulder during movie night. Every moment he'd unconsciously built his life around you.

He hadn't just gotten used to you. He loved you. Hopelessly.

He was just… Too stupid to notice before you gave up.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

Nancy laughed. "Took you long enough."

Steve stood so quickly his chair nearly tipped over. "I have to go."

"Steve."

He was already halfway to the door.

"Don't waste any more time."

"I won't."

He found you at the park, sitting on your usual bench, reading. You looked up as he approached.

"Steve?"

He stopped in front of you. Completely out of breath. "I've been an idiot."

You blinked. "…Okay?"

"No." He shook his head. "I mean yes." Another shake. "I mean…" He laughed helplessly. "I had this whole speech."

"You did?"

"It was really good."

"What happened to it?"

"I saw you and forgot every word."

Despite yourself… You smiled. That smile. The one he'd somehow convinced himself was just friendly. How had he been so blind?

"I've missed you."

Your smile faded. "I've still been around."

"I know." His voice was quiet now. "But not really."

The truth settled between you. You looked down at your book. "I thought giving you some space might help."

"Help what?"

"Help me to ... let go." You looked up again. "You don't owe me anything, Steve."

His heart broke. "I know."

"I don't want you to feel guilty."

"I don't."

"No?"

"No." He stepped closer. "I feel terrified."

Your brows knit together. "Terrified?"

"Because…" He took a shaky breath. "I've spent the last two weeks trying to figure out why everything felt wrong." His eyes found yours. "And then I realized…" A small smile, the kind that trembled.

"It wasn't because you stopped calling or because we stopped hanging out. It was because…" His voice softened. "You stopped letting me love you the way I'd gotten used to."

A tear slipped down your cheek. "I don't understand."

Steve smiled through eyes that had started to sting. "I've loved you for a long time." You stared. He laughed quietly. "I was just the last person to figure it out."

Another tear escaped. "You don't have to say anything." He stepped close enough that your knees almost touched his. "I just ... I couldn't let you walk away thinking you weren't the most important person in my life."

Your face crumpled. "You idiot."

"I know."

"I spent months trying to get you to notice."

"I know."

"I finally gave up."

"I know."

"You picked a terrible time."

"I know."

A watery laugh escaped you. Steve smiled. Then, very carefully… He reached for your hand.

"I know I'm late." His thumb brushed gently across your knuckles. "But if there's even the tiniest part of you that hasn't completely given up on me…" His smile was so wonderfully, painfully Steve. Crooked and hopeful. "I'd really like the chance to spend the rest of my life making up for it."

You looked at his hand. Then at him. Then back at his hand and your fingers slipped between his. Like they had a hundred times before. Only this time neither of you had to pretend it meant nothing.

Steve smiled. The kind of smile that reached all the way to his eyes. The kind that said,

I almost lost the best thing that ever happened to me and I'm never making that mistake again.

__________________

Thank you so much for reading! All interactions are highly appreciated 💙

STEVE HARRINGTON MASTERLIST

[firelilyfox]

pure innocence

Pairing: Steve Harrington x female reader

Summary: You know exactly how to tease your boyfriend and Steve got no problem with being used for your entertainment.

Warnings: dating Steve. teasing. yearning. kissing. implied nsfw (not graphic). heart-eyed Steve. boyfriend mode. no use of y/n.

______________

The July air was still warm long after the sun had disappeared.

Music drifted lazily from the speakers someone had set up on the porch. Fairy lights crisscrossed the backyard, glowing softly overhead, while half the neighborhood seemed to be squeezed into one garden.

Robin and Vicky were arguing over who had cheated at cards.

Jonathan had somehow become trapped in a conversation about cameras with a college sophomore.

Nancy was laughing at something Steve had said.

Steve, for once, wasn't thinking about monsters. Or Upside Down portals. Or saving the world.

He was thinking about how nice it felt to simply… exist and to laugh with his friends.

"…She's been gone a while," Robin said, glancing toward the house.

"Bathroom line," Nancy guessed.

Steve nodded absently. You'd slipped inside ten minutes ago after kicking off your shoes at the door.

His eyes drifted toward the back door every few seconds before he could stop them.

Robin noticed. Of course she did. "You know she's coming back, right?"

Steve looked offended. "I know."

"You've checked the door twelve times."

"I have not."

"You absolutely have."

"I was… observing the party."

Robin snorted. "You are so whipped."

"I am not."

Nancy smiled into her drink. "You kind of are."

Steve opened his mouth to defend himself. Then the back door opened and his argument disappeared immediately, because there you were.

Shoes dangling from one hand and your hair glowing because of the fairy lights.

Looking around until your eyes found his. Then you smiled and Steve felt his own smile appear before he even realized it.

There she is. My favorite person.

You made your way across the lawn, weaving between guests until you reached the group.

Then you frowned. "Huh."

Every seat was taken. Steve reacted instantly. "I can—" But before he could even stand ... You simply sat down.

Right in his lap.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Steve's brain stopped worked completely.

His hands hovered awkwardly in the air. His heart slammed against his ribs. His ears immediately turned bright red.

"…Hi," you said cheerfully.

"Hi." It came out considerably higher than he intended.

Robin bit the inside of her cheek. Nancy suddenly found the stars fascinating. Jonathan coughed into his drink. Vicky outright grinned.

You seemed blissfully unbothered. "So…" You balanced one foot over your knee. "I should probably put my shoes back on."

Steve nodded. Words had abandoned him entirely.

You shifted slightly to reach your shoes. Then shifted again. Trying to find a comfortable position.

Steve inhaled sharply. Oh. Oh no.

You didn't seem to notice or… Maybe you did. Because another tiny wiggle followed.

Steve's entire body tensed. She's going to kill me.

You were still focused on tying the laces. Or pretending to be. His hands found your waist almost instinctively.

He leaned in just enough for only you to hear. "…You're playing a very dangerous game."

His voice was low, careful even.

You turned your head slightly. Blinking up at him with the most innocent expression he'd ever seen. "Am I?"

"So innocent," he murmured.

"I was just trying to put my shoes on."

"Mhm."

"I needed to get comfortable."

"You absolutely did."

You tilted your head. "What do you mean?" The corner of your mouth twitched.

That tiny hint of mischief. Steve knew that look. He'd learned it months ago and it always meant trouble. "You know exactly what."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Liar."

"So rude."

"You are enjoying this." Your smile widened just enough to give yourself away. Steve couldn't help laughing under his breath. "This little attitude you've got…" His thumbs rested lightly against your sides. "…I see right through it."

You looked up at him with exaggerated innocence. "I think you're imagining things."

"Oh, am I?"

"You are."

Steve shook his head, smiling despite himself. "You've become way too confident."

"Maybe."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Yours." You said it so matter-of-factly that he almost laughed out loud, but instead, he leaned closer.

Just enough that his lips brushed softly beneath your ear. "So this was your plan?"

You shivered ever so slightly. "No…"

"You sure?"

"I just wanted somewhere to sit."

"Funny." His smile grew. "You walked past three perfectly good patches of grass."

"I like this seat better." Steve closed his eyes for half a second. She's unbelievable.

He pressed a quick kiss against the side of your neck. Nothing more than a fleeting brush of affection. "You are trouble."

You smiled without looking up from your laces. "So I've been told."

Across the bench, Robin made an exaggerated gagging noise. "Oh my God."

Vicky laughed. "They're adorable."

"They're exhausting," Robin corrected.

Nancy hid her smile behind her cup and Jonathan chuckled quietly.

Steve glanced over. "Something to say?"

Robin held up both hands. "Nothing."

"You were definitely about to say something."

"I value my life."

"You should."

Robin pointed at you. "She has him completely wrapped around her finger."

Steve didn't even argue. Because…Well. You do. He'd accepted that a long time ago.

You finished tying the second shoe and slipped off his lap with one smooth motion. The sudden absence of your weight made him strangely disappointed.

You stood in front of him, smoothing your dress before offering him your hand. "Ready to head home?"

Steve looked up at you. Then narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. A realization settled over him. This little devil planned the whole thing.

Steve slipped his hand into yours. Your fingers intertwined immediately. He stood, still smiling to himself.

"What?" you asked.

"You know exactly what."

"I really don't."

"You are impossible."

Your grin answered for you. Steve laughed, shaking his head as he laced his fingers more tightly through yours.

Maybe you had planned it. Maybe you hadn't. Either way… He had a feeling he'd happily let you steal his lap—and his heart—for the rest of his life.

The walk to Steve's car was quiet. The kind of quiet that only happened after everyone else had finally stopped teasing you.

Your fingers were still intertwined with his, swinging lazily between you as you crossed the nearly empty parking lot.

The muffled sound of music still drifting from the backyard. Steve stole a glance at you. You looked suspiciously pleased with yourself.

He narrowed his eyes. "…You know."

"Hm?"

"I've been thinking."

"That sounds dangerous."

He laughed. "Little bit."

Steve stopped beside the driver's door and you stopped with him.

He turned to face you, one eyebrow raised. His voice low and husky, like he had just run a mile. "I`ve been thinking about how to punish you for torturing me back there."

Your cheeks got rosy and you felt that twist low in your belly, the one that belonged to Steve alone. "I did not punish you. I just wanted to get my shoes.."

Before you could finish your sentence, Steve reached for your hand. With one gentle tug, he spun you around. A surprised laugh escaped you as your back came to rest lightly against the side of his car.

He stepped closer. Not trapping you. Just close enough that you couldn't help looking up at him.

One hand rested against the car beside your shoulder. The other mirrored it on your opposite side.

His face was inches from yours. Close enough that you could see the tiny smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

"There." He sounded entirely too pleased with himself. "Now…" His eyes searched yours. "Let's try this again."

You lifted an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"When," he asked softly, "did you decide you were going to spend the whole evening making me wanting to get you undressed as fast as possible?"

You bit back a smile. "I didn't."

"No?"

"No."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I do."

Steve leaned in just a fraction. Close enough that you could feel his breath when he laughed.

"You've got that look."

"What look?"

"The one that tells me you need me just as much as I need you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You never do."

His gaze dropped briefly to your lips before finding your eyes again. "You've been smiling at me all night."

"So have you." Your voice sounding a little breathless now.

"You reached for my hand every chance you got." His lips brushed slightly over yours, whispering a kiss but not actually kissing you.

"So did you," you whispered.

"You sat in my lap."

"I like your lap."

Steve laughed, shaking his head. "You are unbelievable."

"And yet…" Your voice softened. "…you haven't moved away."

He hadn't. Not even a little. "You know what I think?" he murmured.

"Hm?"

"I think…" He paused just long enough to make you impatient. "… you should get what you've asked for, sweetheart."

Your cheeks warmed and the only thing that came out of your mouth was a quiet sound of pleasure, when he pressed his body against yours. You could feel what you've done to him and Steve knew what he was doing to you right now.

The teasing smile faded from Steve's face.

Replaced by something much more intense ... something like hunger. Unable to resist any longer, Steve closed the remaining distance and kissed you.

It started slow. Gentle. The kind of kiss that made the rest of the world fade into the background.

You smiled against his lips, and he couldn't help smiling back.

A car rolled slowly past the parking lot. Someone leaned out the passenger window. "Hey, Harrington!"

The kiss broke. You both turned at the same time.

The voice called again, laughing. "Get a room!"

The car disappeared around the corner before either of you could answer.

Silence. Then you looked at Steve and he looked at you. A grin spread across both your faces at exactly the same moment.

"So…" you said, trying very hard to sound stable. "We should probably head home."

Steve laughed, reaching for your hand again. "I was just thinking the same thing."

He pressed one last quick kiss to your forehead before opening the passenger door for you. "Ladies first."

You smiled as you climbed in. "What a gentleman."

"Not for long." Steve closed the door with a fond shake of his head.

As he walked around to the driver's side, one thought echoed happily through his mind.

She's trouble. The sweetest kind I've ever known.

And if she planned to keep stealing his heart with little moments like tonight…

He had absolutely no intention of stopping her.

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Thank you so much for reading! All interactions are highly appreciated 💙

STEVE HARRINGTON MASTERLIST

[firelilyfox]

please don't leave me

Pairing: Steve Harrington x female reader

Summary: (S5 spoiler!) After the last fight you are being haunted by the image of Steve hanging on that ledge.

Warnings: hurt/angst. hurt/comfort. finale. near death experience. talking about death. anxiety. crying. no use of y/n.

_____________

The radio station had never been this quiet, just the generators hummed somewhere below.

Someone shifted in a sleeping bag and the rain tapped softly against the windows. Everyone else had managed to fall asleep eventually.

You couldn't.

You waited until the room was filled with slow, even breathing before slipping outside. The ladder to the roof groaned beneath your weight. Cold night air met your face. The stars looked impossibly normal.

As if the world hadn't almost ended a few hours ago. As if Steve hadn't almost…

Your chest tightened. You wrapped your arms around yourself and sat on the edge of the roof. The tears came before you could stop them.

You pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes, trying to stay quiet. Trying not to wake anyone.

The roof hatch creaked open behind you. "…Knew I'd find you up here."

Steve. Of course.

You didn't turn around. "Go back inside."

His footsteps were careful. Unhurried. "I'm not really taking requests tonight."

"You should be sleeping."

"So should you." He stopped beside you. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The silence between you felt different now. Not angry. Just… heavy.

Steve sat beside you. Close enough that your shoulders almost touched. "I thought you were mad at me."

You laughed. A small, broken sound. "I am."

He nodded. "…Yeah."

Another silence. Then he heard it. The tiny hitch in your breathing.

Steve turned. Your face was hidden behind your hands. Your shoulders were shaking. "Oh." His voice cracked. "Oh, sweetheart…"

The endearment slipped out before he could think. You broke. Completely. A sob escaped your lips as months of fear poured out all at once and Steve's heart shattered. Without thinking, he reached for you.

One hand settled gently against your back, pressing you against his chest.

"I'm sorry," you whispered between shaky breaths.

He frowned. "What are you apologizing for?"

"I yelled at you."

"You had every right."

"I said…" You swallowed hard. "I said I was tired of watching you throw yourself into danger like you didn't matter."

Steve closed his eyes. He remembered every word. It was the argument before the last mission.

You standing in front of him, furious.

"One day you're not going to come back."

And Steve being his stubborn self, telling you someone had to do it. That he'd be fine.

You laughed bitterly through your tears. "I was so angry." Your voice grew smaller. "So I told myself I wasn't talking to you until this was over."

Steve's stomach dropped.

"But then…" Your breathing faltered. "…you slipped." The words barely came out. "I saw your hand…"

Your own hand curled unconsciously around his shirt. "Steve…"

He'd never heard his name sound like that. Like it hurt.

"I thought…" You couldn't finish. Couldn't make yourself say it. "I thought that was it."

Steve felt something in his chest cave in. He had seen your face. Just for a second. When Jonathan grabbed him, he hadn't understood it then. But he did now.

You turned toward him. Eyes red and cheeks wet. "I've never been that scared." Another tear escaped despite your best efforts. "I couldn't breathe."

Your voice cracked. "I thought I was watching you die."

Steve looked away. Not because he didn't want to look at you. Because he couldn't bear what he was seeing.

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." The confession landed softly between you. "I really don't."

Steve's eyes burned, because the thought of you being all alone shattered his heart into a thousand pieces.

"You'd never even know how much I—" You stopped yourself, but it was too late. He'd heard it.

The silence stretched, then Steve moved. He turned toward you completely. Both hands gently finding yours. "I'm so sorry." His voice was barely above a whisper. "So, so sorry."

You shook your head immediately. "No—"

"I am." He squeezed your hands. "I never wanted…" He swallowed. "I never wanted to make you feel that."

You searched his face. "Weren't you scared?"

Steve smiled, just a little. Not because it was funny. Because the answer surprised even him. "I should've been."

"You almost died."

"I know and it should scare the shit out of me."

"You were hanging off a radio tower."

"I remember."

"So why are you acting like—"

"Because…" He stared down at your intertwined hands. "When I slipped…" His voice became distant. "It all happened really fast."

You waited.

"I remember thinking…" A small laugh escaped him. "…'Well, this is gonna hurt.'"

Despite everything, you smiled through your tears.

"Then…" His expression changed and suddenly softened. "I thought about you."

You blinked. "What?"

Steve nodded slowly. "I didn't think about dying, I didn't think about whether we'd win. I didn't think about anything except…" His thumb brushed across your knuckles. "You."

Your breath caught.

"I kept thinking…" His voice wavered. "She's going to blame herself."

You stared at him.

"She's going to think our fight was the last conversation we ever had." Tears welled in his eyes all over again. "She's going to be so mad at me or even hate me."

A tear escaped his eye and he didn't bother wiping it away. "And I hated myself for that."

His laugh broke halfway through. "I was hanging there thinking…" He looked at you with a tenderness that almost hurt. "Don't you dare leave her like this."

The words shattered whatever composure you had left. You threw your arms around him. This time he didn't hesitate. His arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you like he could somehow erase the memory of that ledge.

You buried your face against his neck. "I love you."

The words slipped out before you could stop them. You froze and so did Steve. For exactly one heartbeat. Then his arms somehow tightened even more.

You pulled back immediately. Mortified. "Oh my God, I didn't mean to just—"

"You don't have to take it back."

You looked at him. "I wasn't going to."

Steve smiled through watery eyes. "I love you too."

The words were so simple but so certain. "I think I've loved you for a long time."

Your forehead rested against his. The world below was still broken and the future was still uncertain.

Tomorrow would bring more questions than answers. But for the first time since he'd nearly fallen… Neither of you was carrying the weight alone.

Above you, the stars continued to shine. And Steve silently promised himself something.

He would always fight for the people he loved. But from now on he'd fight just as hard to come home to them.

To you.

________________

Thank you so much for reading! All interactions are highly appreciated 💙

STEVE HARRINGTON MASTERLIST

[itsdollavie]

[firelilyfox]

[firelilyfox]

please don't leave me

Pairing: Steve Harrington x female reader

Summary: (S5 spoiler!) After the last fight you are being haunted by the image of Steve hanging on that ledge.

Warnings: hurt/angst. hurt/comfort. finale. near death experience. talking about death. anxiety. crying. no use of y/n.

_____________

The radio station had never been this quiet, just the generators hummed somewhere below.

Someone shifted in a sleeping bag and the rain tapped softly against the windows. Everyone else had managed to fall asleep eventually.

You couldn't.

You waited until the room was filled with slow, even breathing before slipping outside. The ladder to the roof groaned beneath your weight. Cold night air met your face. The stars looked impossibly normal.

As if the world hadn't almost ended a few hours ago. As if Steve hadn't almost…

Your chest tightened. You wrapped your arms around yourself and sat on the edge of the roof. The tears came before you could stop them.

You pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes, trying to stay quiet. Trying not to wake anyone.

The roof hatch creaked open behind you. "…Knew I'd find you up here."

Steve. Of course.

You didn't turn around. "Go back inside."

His footsteps were careful. Unhurried. "I'm not really taking requests tonight."

"You should be sleeping."

"So should you." He stopped beside you. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The silence between you felt different now. Not angry. Just… heavy.

Steve sat beside you. Close enough that your shoulders almost touched. "I thought you were mad at me."

You laughed. A small, broken sound. "I am."

He nodded. "…Yeah."

Another silence. Then he heard it. The tiny hitch in your breathing.

Steve turned. Your face was hidden behind your hands. Your shoulders were shaking. "Oh." His voice cracked. "Oh, sweetheart…"

The endearment slipped out before he could think. You broke. Completely. A sob escaped your lips as months of fear poured out all at once and Steve's heart shattered. Without thinking, he reached for you.

One hand settled gently against your back, pressing you against his chest.

"I'm sorry," you whispered between shaky breaths.

He frowned. "What are you apologizing for?"

"I yelled at you."

"You had every right."

"I said…" You swallowed hard. "I said I was tired of watching you throw yourself into danger like you didn't matter."

Steve closed his eyes. He remembered every word. It was the argument before the last mission.

You standing in front of him, furious.

"One day you're not going to come back."

And Steve being his stubborn self, telling you someone had to do it. That he'd be fine.

You laughed bitterly through your tears. "I was so angry." Your voice grew smaller. "So I told myself I wasn't talking to you until this was over."

Steve's stomach dropped.

"But then…" Your breathing faltered. "…you slipped." The words barely came out. "I saw your hand…"

Your own hand curled unconsciously around his shirt. "Steve…"

He'd never heard his name sound like that. Like it hurt.

"I thought…" You couldn't finish. Couldn't make yourself say it. "I thought that was it."

Steve felt something in his chest cave in. He had seen your face. Just for a second. When Jonathan grabbed him, he hadn't understood it then. But he did now.

You turned toward him. Eyes red and cheeks wet. "I've never been that scared." Another tear escaped despite your best efforts. "I couldn't breathe."

Your voice cracked. "I thought I was watching you die."

Steve looked away. Not because he didn't want to look at you. Because he couldn't bear what he was seeing.

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." The confession landed softly between you. "I really don't."

Steve's eyes burned, because the thought of you being all alone shattered his heart into a thousand pieces.

"You'd never even know how much I—" You stopped yourself, but it was too late. He'd heard it.

The silence stretched, then Steve moved. He turned toward you completely. Both hands gently finding yours. "I'm so sorry." His voice was barely above a whisper. "So, so sorry."

You shook your head immediately. "No—"

"I am." He squeezed your hands. "I never wanted…" He swallowed. "I never wanted to make you feel that."

You searched his face. "Weren't you scared?"

Steve smiled, just a little. Not because it was funny. Because the answer surprised even him. "I should've been."

"You almost died."

"I know and it should scare the shit out of me."

"You were hanging off a radio tower."

"I remember."

"So why are you acting like—"

"Because…" He stared down at your intertwined hands. "When I slipped…" His voice became distant. "It all happened really fast."

You waited.

"I remember thinking…" A small laugh escaped him. "…'Well, this is gonna hurt.'"

Despite everything, you smiled through your tears.

"Then…" His expression changed and suddenly softened. "I thought about you."

You blinked. "What?"

Steve nodded slowly. "I didn't think about dying, I didn't think about whether we'd win. I didn't think about anything except…" His thumb brushed across your knuckles. "You."

Your breath caught.

"I kept thinking…" His voice wavered. "She's going to blame herself."

You stared at him.

"She's going to think our fight was the last conversation we ever had." Tears welled in his eyes all over again. "She's going to be so mad at me or even hate me."

A tear escaped his eye and he didn't bother wiping it away. "And I hated myself for that."

His laugh broke halfway through. "I was hanging there thinking…" He looked at you with a tenderness that almost hurt. "Don't you dare leave her like this."

The words shattered whatever composure you had left. You threw your arms around him. This time he didn't hesitate. His arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you like he could somehow erase the memory of that ledge.

You buried your face against his neck. "I love you."

The words slipped out before you could stop them. You froze and so did Steve. For exactly one heartbeat. Then his arms somehow tightened even more.

You pulled back immediately. Mortified. "Oh my God, I didn't mean to just—"

"You don't have to take it back."

You looked at him. "I wasn't going to."

Steve smiled through watery eyes. "I love you too."

The words were so simple but so certain. "I think I've loved you for a long time."

Your forehead rested against his. The world below was still broken and the future was still uncertain.

Tomorrow would bring more questions than answers. But for the first time since he'd nearly fallen… Neither of you was carrying the weight alone.

Above you, the stars continued to shine. And Steve silently promised himself something.

He would always fight for the people he loved. But from now on he'd fight just as hard to come home to them.

To you.

________________

Thank you so much for reading! All interactions are highly appreciated 💙

STEVE HARRINGTON MASTERLIST

[firelilyfox]

i very truly believe you are my favorite ST writer on this app!!! i just had to let you know, you deserve to be proud of your work :)

Don’t make me cry 😭 oh my god this is so so sweet thank you so much! I know this sentence is used a lot but - you have actually NO IDEA how much this means to me- 😭❤️ thank you from the bottom of my heart!!!!

[firelilyfox]

please don't leave me

Pairing: Steve Harrington x female reader

Summary: (S5 spoiler!) After the last fight you are being haunted by the image of Steve hanging on that ledge.

Warnings: hurt/angst. hurt/comfort. finale. near death experience. talking about death. anxiety. crying. no use of y/n.

_____________

The radio station had never been this quiet, just the generators hummed somewhere below.

Someone shifted in a sleeping bag and the rain tapped softly against the windows. Everyone else had managed to fall asleep eventually.

You couldn't.

You waited until the room was filled with slow, even breathing before slipping outside. The ladder to the roof groaned beneath your weight. Cold night air met your face. The stars looked impossibly normal.

As if the world hadn't almost ended a few hours ago. As if Steve hadn't almost…

Your chest tightened. You wrapped your arms around yourself and sat on the edge of the roof. The tears came before you could stop them.

You pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes, trying to stay quiet. Trying not to wake anyone.

The roof hatch creaked open behind you. "…Knew I'd find you up here."

Steve. Of course.

You didn't turn around. "Go back inside."

His footsteps were careful. Unhurried. "I'm not really taking requests tonight."

"You should be sleeping."

"So should you." He stopped beside you. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The silence between you felt different now. Not angry. Just… heavy.

Steve sat beside you. Close enough that your shoulders almost touched. "I thought you were mad at me."

You laughed. A small, broken sound. "I am."

He nodded. "…Yeah."

Another silence. Then he heard it. The tiny hitch in your breathing.

Steve turned. Your face was hidden behind your hands. Your shoulders were shaking. "Oh." His voice cracked. "Oh, sweetheart…"

The endearment slipped out before he could think. You broke. Completely. A sob escaped your lips as months of fear poured out all at once and Steve's heart shattered. Without thinking, he reached for you.

One hand settled gently against your back, pressing you against his chest.

"I'm sorry," you whispered between shaky breaths.

He frowned. "What are you apologizing for?"

"I yelled at you."

"You had every right."

"I said…" You swallowed hard. "I said I was tired of watching you throw yourself into danger like you didn't matter."

Steve closed his eyes. He remembered every word. It was the argument before the last mission.

You standing in front of him, furious.

"One day you're not going to come back."

And Steve being his stubborn self, telling you someone had to do it. That he'd be fine.

You laughed bitterly through your tears. "I was so angry." Your voice grew smaller. "So I told myself I wasn't talking to you until this was over."

Steve's stomach dropped.

"But then…" Your breathing faltered. "…you slipped." The words barely came out. "I saw your hand…"

Your own hand curled unconsciously around his shirt. "Steve…"

He'd never heard his name sound like that. Like it hurt.

"I thought…" You couldn't finish. Couldn't make yourself say it. "I thought that was it."

Steve felt something in his chest cave in. He had seen your face. Just for a second. When Jonathan grabbed him, he hadn't understood it then. But he did now.

You turned toward him. Eyes red and cheeks wet. "I've never been that scared." Another tear escaped despite your best efforts. "I couldn't breathe."

Your voice cracked. "I thought I was watching you die."

Steve looked away. Not because he didn't want to look at you. Because he couldn't bear what he was seeing.

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." The confession landed softly between you. "I really don't."

Steve's eyes burned, because the thought of you being all alone shattered his heart into a thousand pieces.

"You'd never even know how much I—" You stopped yourself, but it was too late. He'd heard it.

The silence stretched, then Steve moved. He turned toward you completely. Both hands gently finding yours. "I'm so sorry." His voice was barely above a whisper. "So, so sorry."

You shook your head immediately. "No—"

"I am." He squeezed your hands. "I never wanted…" He swallowed. "I never wanted to make you feel that."

You searched his face. "Weren't you scared?"

Steve smiled, just a little. Not because it was funny. Because the answer surprised even him. "I should've been."

"You almost died."

"I know and it should scare the shit out of me."

"You were hanging off a radio tower."

"I remember."

"So why are you acting like—"

"Because…" He stared down at your intertwined hands. "When I slipped…" His voice became distant. "It all happened really fast."

You waited.

"I remember thinking…" A small laugh escaped him. "…'Well, this is gonna hurt.'"

Despite everything, you smiled through your tears.

"Then…" His expression changed and suddenly softened. "I thought about you."

You blinked. "What?"

Steve nodded slowly. "I didn't think about dying, I didn't think about whether we'd win. I didn't think about anything except…" His thumb brushed across your knuckles. "You."

Your breath caught.

"I kept thinking…" His voice wavered. "She's going to blame herself."

You stared at him.

"She's going to think our fight was the last conversation we ever had." Tears welled in his eyes all over again. "She's going to be so mad at me or even hate me."

A tear escaped his eye and he didn't bother wiping it away. "And I hated myself for that."

His laugh broke halfway through. "I was hanging there thinking…" He looked at you with a tenderness that almost hurt. "Don't you dare leave her like this."

The words shattered whatever composure you had left. You threw your arms around him. This time he didn't hesitate. His arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you like he could somehow erase the memory of that ledge.

You buried your face against his neck. "I love you."

The words slipped out before you could stop them. You froze and so did Steve. For exactly one heartbeat. Then his arms somehow tightened even more.

You pulled back immediately. Mortified. "Oh my God, I didn't mean to just—"

"You don't have to take it back."

You looked at him. "I wasn't going to."

Steve smiled through watery eyes. "I love you too."

The words were so simple but so certain. "I think I've loved you for a long time."

Your forehead rested against his. The world below was still broken and the future was still uncertain.

Tomorrow would bring more questions than answers. But for the first time since he'd nearly fallen… Neither of you was carrying the weight alone.

Above you, the stars continued to shine. And Steve silently promised himself something.

He would always fight for the people he loved. But from now on he'd fight just as hard to come home to them.

To you.

________________

Thank you so much for reading! All interactions are highly appreciated 💙

STEVE HARRINGTON MASTERLIST

[firelilyfox]

coworkers, ahoy!

Pairing: Steve Harrington x female reader

Summary: When a creepy guy approaches his new coworker Steve steps in to protect you.

Warnings: yearning. tension. protective Steve. damsel in distress. no use of y/n.

___________

Steve had exactly three thoughts when Robin introduced the new Scoops employee.

First: She's pretty.

Second: Really pretty.

And third: Oh no. I`m so fucked.

Because now he had to somehow survive entire shifts standing next to you without embarrassing himself. It wasn't going well.

"Steve?"

"Hm?"

"You handed that kid three spoons."

Steve looked down. The child was indeed holding three spoons. The kid looked delighted. Robin looked exhausted. You were trying very hard not to laugh.

"Right," Steve muttered. "One spoon. Usually."

Your smile appeared. And just like that, his day got significantly worse. Or better. Honestly, Steve couldn't tell anymore.

The first week was easy. You learned the menu and how to work the register. You learned that Robin talked approximately six hundred words per minute. And you that Steve got adorably flustered whenever you complimented him.

"Thanks for helping me with the machine."

"No problem."

"You explain things really well."

Steve nearly dropped a scoop of vanilla. Robin noticed. She spent the next ten minutes grinning like a maniac.

The creepy guy showed up on your fourth shift. Steve noticed him before you did. Mid-forties. Always staring. Something about him made Steve's skin crawl.

The guy ordered a sundae and then spent ten minutes leaning on the counter trying to talk to you.

At first Steve ignored it. People were weird. The mall was full of weird people, right?

Then he noticed the look on your face. The smile you were forcing. The way your shoulders had tightened. The way your eyes kept flickering toward Steve.

Like you weren't sure what to do. Something immediately twisted in his chest.

"Hey." Steve appeared beside you.

The guy looked annoyed but Steve just smiled. The fake customer-service smile. The one Robin called his "serial killer smile." "Can I help you with something?"

The man frowned. "I was talking to her."

"Yeah." Steve nodded. "I noticed." The smile never left his face. "You've been here for about fifteen minutes."

The guy shifted uncomfortably. You looked relieved. Steve felt a tiny surge of satisfaction.

"Think it's time to enjoy your ice cream."

The man stared. Steve stared back. A beat passed and finally the man grabbed his sundae and walked away.

The second he was gone, Steve turned toward you. "You okay?"

You let out a breath. "Yeah." Then you hesitated. "Thank you for that. I was getting a little scared."

Something in your expression made Steve's stomach flip. "It's nothing, really. He was creeping me out too."

"It wasn't nothing." Your voice was soft. "Scoops Hero strikes again."

Steve groaned. "Please don't call me that."

You laughed. And before he could react you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. For one second Steve forgot how reality worked.

Warm. That was his first coherent thought. His second thought was that you smelled nice. His third thought was that he was absolutely going to die.

"Thank you," you said quietly.

Steve's arms hovered awkwardly in the air for a moment before settling around you. "No problem." His voice came out embarrassingly hoarse.

You pulled away still smiling. Steve watched you walk back to the register, then immediately smacked his forehead against a freezer door to cool his thoughts down again.

Robin cackled so loudly a customer turned around.

After that, things changed. You started sharing shifts more often. Talking more. Laughing more. You learned Steve secretly loved bad movies. Steve learned you sang along to every song on the radio.

You learned he always gave nervous customers extra napkins and Steve learned your favorite ice cream flavor. After some time you learned he pretended not to care about people and unfortunately for him, Steve learned that was impossible for you to believe.

Somewhere along the way, becoming friends stopped feeling like enough but neither of you mentioned it.

One evening the mall was unusually quiet. Robin had gone on break. The food court was half-empty. You were wiping down tables while Steve organized cones behind the counter.

The bell above the entrance chimed. Steve glanced up and immediately felt his stomach drop.

The guy again.

Steve straightened. Across the room, you clearly recognized him too and your shoulders tensed.

The man approached, said something to you but Steve couldn't hear it. He saw your polite smile. Saw you try to move past him. Saw the man step closer.

Too close.

His hand reached toward your arm and everything inside Steve went cold. He was moving before he even realized it.

Three long strides then he was there between you and him. One hand lightly against your back to guide you behind him. Protecting you without even thinking about it.

"Hey." Steve's voice was calm. Dangerously calm.

The man's smile faltered. "I was just talking—"

"Cool." Steve nodded. "Now you're talking to me."

You could feel the tension radiating from him and feel how solidly he had placed himself between you and the customer. Like a human shield.

The man frowned. "I wanted to order."

"Great." Steve smiled that same terrifying customer-service smile. "What can I get you?"

Eventually the man took his order and left. Steve waited until he disappeared completely. Then another minute just to be sure.

Only then did he turn around. You were looking at him wide-eyed. "Steve."

"What?"

Your smile was small so soft and fond. "You know you were glaring at him the whole time, right?"

"I wasn't."

"You absolutely were."

"I was providing customer service."

You laughed. Steve's heart immediately betrayed him. Again. Then your fingers brushed his wrist just for a second.

"Thank you." The words came out quiet.

Steve looked down at your hand then back at you and something warm settled in his chest. The same feeling he always got around you. The one he hadn't figured out how to stop. Or hide. Or survive.

"You don't have to thank me."

"Yes, I do." Your smile softened. "I always feel safer when you're here."

Steve forgot every response he'd ever learned. Because you were looking at him like he mattered. Like he was someone worth relying on. And maybe that should have made him feel brave.

Instead it made him fall a little harder. Because all Steve could think was: I'd stand in front of every creepy guy in Indiana if it meant seeing you smile at me like that.

And judging by the way you were looking at him ... maybe he wasn't the only one falling.

Something was wrong with Steve after that night. You knew it. Robin knew it. Probably half the mall knew it.

The only person who seemed unaware of it was Steve himself. For two weeks he'd been acting strange. Not bad strange. Just… Steve strange.

Which was somehow worse. Lately he'd walk over, look like he wanted to say something and then immediately leave.

It was driving you insane.

"Okay." Robin appeared beside you. "Are we finally talking about it?"

You sighed. "Talking about what?"

"The giant lovesick sailor standing over there."

You nearly dropped a stack of cups. Across Scoops, Steve was reorganizing napkins. For the third time. There were already enough napkins to survive the apocalypse.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Robin laughed so hard she had to grab the counter. "Sure."

Three days later, things somehow got worse because Steve kept looking at you. Then looking away. Then looking at you again. Like a very confused golden retriever.

You finally cornered him during closing. The mall was mostly empty. Robin had already left and Steve was wiping down the counter with the concentration of a man defusing a bomb.

"Steve."

"Hm?"

"You've been weird."

"No I haven't."

"Steve."

"I haven't."

"Steve."

He sighed. Still refusing to look at you.

"You just spent thirty seconds arguing with a mop."

"It started it."

You stared. Steve stared back. Then immediately regretted making eye contact because you were close. Very close. And very pretty. Ridiculously pretty.

You crossed your arms. "Tell me what's going on."

"Nothing."

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"I'm really not."

You took a step closer. "Steve." Another step. "Seriously." Another. Until there was barely any space left between you.

"You've been staring at me. You've been avoiding me. You keep starting sentences and then stopping." You poked your finger against his chest. "And every time I ask what's wrong you look like you're about to throw yourself into traffic."

Steve dragged a hand down his face. This was a disaster.

You sighed a little bit sad. "Did I do something?"

His head snapped up. "What?"

"Did I upset you?"

"No!" The answer came so fast it almost echoed.

The silence stretched. "Then what is it?"

Steve opened his mouth but nothing came out. Closed it again. Tried once more. Nothing.

"Oh for fucks sake why is this so hard?" Steve blurted out and left you with a surprised look on your face.

Steve looked horrified. You looked exasperated. Neither of you noticed how close you'd gotten. How his hands flexed nervously at his sides and Steve thanked the universe that you couldn't read his mind in this moment. Because it nearly killed him to not touch you.

"Okay." He swallowed. "Okay." Another swallow. "You know that creepy guy the other day?"

You immediately tensed.

Steve noticed. "I know." His voice softened. "I know."

"So…"

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. Then looked everywhere except at you. His soul briefly left his body.

"So I didn't want—" His voice caught. "I didn't want you to think I was…" The words seemed difficult.

"I don't know." He laughed nervously. "Like him."

You frowned, now fully confused. "What do you mean?"

"I know that guy freaked you out and the last thing I wanted was for you to think I was pressuring you or making you uncomfortable or—"

"Steve."

"—or like I expected something because I helped you and—"

"Steve."

"—and then I kept trying to figure out how to say it normally but every version sounded stupid—"

You grabbed his hand and he immediately stopped rambling. Instead he looked at you with wide eyes and a soft layer of pink covered his cheeks.

"What war you saying... exactly?"

He sighed, but moved his thumb over the back of your hand like a reflex. It felt so ... familiar like he did it a thousand times and somehow it was as intimate as a first kiss.

"What I`m trying to say is ... I want to ask you to go out with me. On a date. But I was not sure when would be the right moment to do so, you know, after everything that has happened?"

He let go of you hand and you could feel his fingers wandering up your arm, towards your shoulder. You couldn't resist and leaned into his touch. Finally his hand settled on the side of your neck, his dark eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt or fear. He found none.

"You could never make me feel the way he did."

Something in his expression cracked. He looked so relieved, that you melted a little more into his frame.

A smile tugged at your lips. "And for the record?"

"Hm?"

"I've been waiting for you to ask."

Steve stared.

"Steve. Did you hear me?"

"No, I did."

"Then why do you look like that?"

"Because." He laughed once like he couldn't believe it. "You've been waiting?"

Your smile widened. "You're not exactly subtle."

"Robin told you?"

"Robin told everyone."

Steve groaned and you laughed. Then his thumb gently brushed your jaw and your laughter died in your throat. Instead a little breathless sound escaped your lips.

"So…"

You tilted your head. "So?"

"Would you maybe…" He took a breath. Gathered what little dignity he had left. "Would you maybe want to go out with me sometime?"

The smile you gave him could have powered every light in Starcourt Mall. "I'd love to."

Steve's answering grin was so bright it almost hurt to look at. And for the first time in weeks, he finally stopped overthinking. Mostly because you were still so close to him, he could feel your soft frame against his body.

And neither of you seemed interested in getting more distance.

________________

Thank you so much for reading! All interactions are highly appreciated

Steve Harrington Masterlist

[firelilyfox]

wedding people

Pairing: Steve Harrington x female reader

Summary: You get paired up with Steve at a wedding and are forced to spent the entire evening at his side. Between walking down the aisle together and dancing under the stars, something shifts and it will never be the same.

Warnings: Steve having a huge crush on you. admiring. yearning. flirting. anxieties. insecurities. no use of y/n.

_____________

The wedding venue looked like something straight out of a magazine.

White roses wrapped around wooden arches. Strings of lights hung from tree branches. Guests milled around the garden in expensive clothes while a string quartet played somewhere nearby.

And unfortunately for both you and Steve, the wedding coordinator had decided you would be spending the entire day together.

"Oh, perfect!" she'd said that morning. "You two can walk together in the processional. And I'll have you helping guests find their seats. Then you'll hand out favors after dinner."

Steve had smiled politely and so did you. The second she left, you both stared at each other.

"Well," Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess we're coworkers now."

You laughed. The sound hit him harder than it should have. He'd had a crush on you for almost a year now. Ever since senior year, honestly. But Steve wasn't exactly the guy he'd been back then.

Back then he was King Steve.

Now he scooped ice cream for twelve-year-olds wearing a sailor outfit. And somehow every time he thought about asking you out, he heard his father's voice.

You're wasting your life. You had everything handed to you and still screwed it up. Ice cream? Really?

Steve hated how much those words stuck around. Especially when he looked at you. Because you deserved somebody impressive. Not a guy who spent his afternoons serving mint chip.

"Steve?" He blinked.

You were smiling at him. "You coming?"

Right. The wedding. Focus.

"Yep. Totally. Professional wedding employee. That's me."

You laughed again. And Steve nearly forgot how walking worked.

The first assignment was greeting guests. It sounded easy but it wasn't. Mostly because every elderly woman attending the wedding seemed absolutely determined to play matchmaker.

"Oh, aren't you two precious?" one grandmother said.

You nearly choked and Steve looked ready to launch himself into traffic.

"We're not—"

"Nope," Steve blurted.

The woman raised an eyebrow. "You interrupted each other."

"Oh my God," you muttered.

"You finish first," Steve said immediately.

"No, you."

"No, seriously."

The old woman smiled knowingly. "Young love." Then she wandered away.

The two of you stood frozen until finally Steve groaned. "I'm moving to another state."

You burst out laughing. "That's a little dramatic."

"You don't understand. She looked into my soul."

"You have a soul?"

Steve pressed a hand over his chest. "Ouch."

You grinned and Steve thought he could probably spend the rest of his life trying to make you smile like that.

By the time the ceremony started, your nerves had mostly settled. At least until Steve offered you his arm. For the processional of course. Your heart immediately forgot how to function.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Fine."

"You look terrified."

"I'm walking in front of two hundred people."

"Good point."

The music began. You both started down the aisle. Halfway through, Steve leaned slightly closer. "If it helps," he whispered. "I think everyone is looking at the bride."

You snorted. Right there in the middle of the wedding. Steve had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. The horrified expression on your face afterward nearly killed him.

"You made me laugh."

"You laughed voluntarily."

"You started it."

"That's not how laughing works."

Somehow you both made it to the front without completely embarrassing yourselves.

The reception was worse. Or better depending on who you asked. The sun was setting. Fairy lights glowed overhead, music drifted through the warm evening air and somehow every task kept putting you right next to Steve.

Handing out favors. Moving decorations. Delivering messages between relatives.

At one point you both got sent to find extra champagne glasses. Which led to twenty minutes alone in a storage room.

"These weddings are insane," Steve said.

"You've spent the entire day complaining."

"I'm providing commentary."

"You called the flower arrangements 'aggressively floral.'"

"They are."

You shook your head and Steve smiled. Then his gaze softened, because you looked so beautiful. Not just because of the dress. Though, yeah, the dress definitely wasn't helping.

It was the way your eyes lit up when you laughed. The way you talked with your hands. The way you were always kind to people. Even strangers.

And suddenly he felt that familiar knot in his chest. That awful little voice.

What are you doing? Look at her. And look at you. Just a guy working at Scoops Ahoy. A guy who couldn't even figure out what he wanted to do with his life.

You deserved somebody better. Somebody with a plan. Somebody successful. Not—

"Steve?"

His head snapped up to find you looking at him with concern in your eyes. "You disappeared for a second."

"Oh." He forced a smile. "Sorry."

You stepped closer. "Everything okay?"

And there it was. That thing you always did. Actually caring. Actually noticing.

Steve swallowed. "Yeah."

You clearly didn't believe him. But you let it go. For now.

Steve smiled at something you said, but the conversation had already become background noise. Not because he wasn't listening. Because he was trying very hard not to stare.

The storage room wasn't exactly romantic. There were folding chairs stacked against one wall. Boxes of decorations. Spare tablecloths.

And somehow it was still the most dangerous place he'd been all year. Because you were standing barely three feet away. Close enough that he could see every little expression that crossed your face.

Close enough to notice the way your earrings caught the light when you moved. Close enough that his brain kept supplying increasingly terrible ideas.

Just kiss her. Steve immediately shut that thought down. Absolutely not. Terrible plan. The worst plan. A catastrophic plan.

You were helping at a wedding, not auditioning to be ambushed by an idiot with a crush.

Still ... his eyes drifted traitorously, to your lips.

Seriously. One kiss. God. What was wrong with him?

What if eventually you looked at him and saw exactly what everyone else saw?

A guy who couldn't get into college. A guy serving ice cream in a sailor uniform. A guy with no idea what came next.

You deserved somebody who had their life together. Somebody with a plan. Not someone who spent half his shifts getting yelled at by sticky children. The thought settled heavily in his chest.

Then you laughed. Just a small laugh. Barely louder than the music drifting in from outside. And somehow it shattered every miserable thought in his head.

Steve felt his heart do something embarrassingly dramatic.

I like her so much. The realization hit him with almost painful clarity. It was not just a crush. Not just because you were pretty. He liked talking to you. Liked making you laugh. Liked being around you. Liked the way the room felt lighter when you walked into it.

And for one reckless second, he imagined what would happen if he closed the distance between you.

If he reached for your hand. If he kissed you. Would you kiss him back? The thought alone made his pulse jump.

"Steve?"

He blinked. You were looking at him curiously.

"You've gone quiet. again"

His brain immediately abandoned him. Because all he could think was:

Yeah, because I'm trying very hard not to fall even harder in love with you in a storage room full of champagne glasses.

Instead he cleared his throat. "Sorry."

You smiled. And Steve's heart was completely, hopelessly doomed.

Later that evening, the dancing started. Steve had managed to avoid it for approximately eleven minutes.

Then you appeared holding out your hand to him.

"Oh no."

"Oh yes."

"No."

"Steve."

He pointed toward the dance floor. "There are people doing spins."

"You survived monsters."

"Monsters are easier."

You laughed. "One dance."

Steve sighed dramatically. "You drive a hard bargain."

You grabbed his hand before he could change his mind and just like that, he was pulled onto the dance floor.

The song was slow. Of course it was. Steve wanted to file a formal complaint with the universe, because how was he supposed to keep his cool with you pressed against him this close?

Your hand settled in his. His other hand rested carefully against your waist and suddenly every sarcastic comment vanished from his brain.

You looked up at him , smiling softly. And for a moment the entire reception disappeared.

"You know," you said quietly.

"Hm?"

"I've had a really good day."

Steve's heart stuttered. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Your smile widened. "I think it helped having the right partner."

Something warm spread through his chest. Dangerously warm. The kind that made people say stupid things.

So he said the truth. "You are the best part of my day too."

Your breath caught. And suddenly neither of you were dancing anymore. Just swaying, looking at each other. Neither wanting to look away.

The reception ended late. Most guests had already left. The lights overhead glowed softly against the dark sky.

You and Steve sat together on the edge of the empty dance floor. Exhausted but comfortable.

You stayed quiet for a moment, then Steve sighed. "You know," He stared down at his hands. "I almost didn't come today."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Didn't think I'd fit in."

You frowned. "Steve why would you think that?"

He laughed softly. "Stupid, right?"

"No, I just don't understand."

His smile faded. "I just…" The words felt embarrassing. But somehow easier around you. "My dad keeps reminding me that I'm just working at Scoops."

Your expression immediately softened.

"He acts like it means I failed and that I'm a total screw up." Steve stared at the floor. "Sometimes I kinda believe him."

The silence stretched. Then your hand found his, you fingers drawing slow circles on his skin. "Steve you are one of the kindest people I know."

His chest tightened and he almost interrupted you, but you didn't let him. "You make everyone around you feel safe." You squeezed his hand. "You spend your entire life helping people. Even when they don't deserve it."

Steve laughed quietly. "You sound pretty worked up about this."

"I am." You held his gaze. "And for the record? I don't care where you work."

The knot he'd been carrying around for months loosened. Just a little. Enough to breathe and enough to smile down at you.

Enough to realize you were still holding his hand. And neither of you seemed interested in letting go.

His eyes drifted to your lips. Then back to your eyes. "Can I do something really stupid?" he asked.

You smiled. "Probably."

"Helpful," he chuckled.

"You've survived this long. But if you call it stupid again, I have to punch you."

Steve laughed. Then he leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to stop him. You didn't.

The kiss was soft and sweet. The kind that made his heart completely forget how to function.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were smiling. "Wow," Steve whispered. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."

You softly tugged at his tie. "What? Calling kissing me a stupid idea?"

Steve laughed and closed his eyes with a painful expression. "That's gonna haunt me from now on. And you will keep reminding me won't you?"

Your hands wandered up around his neck and found themselves buried in his hair at the base. "Hmm... maybe you can stop me from talking about it?"

His eyes light up with excitement, just before he narrowed them in admiration. "I might have one or two ideas how to do that."

________________

Thank you so much for reading! All interactions are highly appreciated 💙

STEVE HARRINGTON MASTERLIST

[firelilyfox]

touch her and I’ll break your neck

Pairing: Steve Harrington x female reader

Summary: Steve doesn’t hesitate when it comes to you. He will not tolerate if someone hurts his girl. And he will take care of you in any way he can.

Warnings: violence. hurt/comfort. attempt of SA (nothing graphic but please read with care). blood. Steve saying all the right things. dating Steve Harrington. no use of y/n.

————————-

Steve’s almost done closing the Family Video Store. 

He’s halfway to flipping the sign to CLOSED when the phone rings. He hesitates because normally no one calls this late. But that’s also why something in his chest twists. That can’t be good, right? 

He picks up. „Family Video, this is…“ 

„Steve.“

Immediate relief floods his mind. It’s you, his lovely girlfriend. 

Then he hears it. Your breathing goes fast and shallow and your sobbing. Every nerve in his body goes electric. „Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?“ His voice drops instantly, steady but tight. 

„He won’t leave,“ you whisper. „Steve, he won’t leave me alone.“ 

His racing thoughts come to an abrupt stand. „Who.“ 

„My brother’s friend. He’s drunk. He…“ Your voice cracks. There’s a loud bang on the other end of the line. You gasp. „He’s trying to get in.“ 

Steve is already grabbing his keys. „Where are you?“ 

„My parents room. I locked it. He’s…“ Another bang, harder this time. „He’s hitting the door. Steve, I’m really scared.“ 

„Listen to me,“ Steve says with his fingers almost breaking the phone. „You stay locked in. Don’t open the door no matter what you hear. I’m coming.“ 

Steve doesn’t remember the drive. He remembers red lights blurring. His hands shaking on the wheel. Nearly missing a turn. The sick, crawling fear in is stomach. 

When he stops the car, he jumps out without bothering to close the door behind him. He doesn’t care. Loud music blasting from the basement. He doesn’t care. Steve takes the stairs two at a time. The hallway is a mess. The bedroom door is open … broken by some guys hands. 

And that’s when he sees it. You’re against the wall. Lip split and a bruise darkening your cheek. That guy - drunk, ugly and furious - has his hand on your wrist. The grip too tight for you to get away. His other hand near your throat and leaning in. 

You’re struggling. Saying no. 

Steve doesn’t think. He sees red. 

„Get your hands off her!“ 

The guy barely turns before Steve is on him. He rips him back so hard, the guy stumbles. Steve’s fist connects with is face once. Twice. Three times. Years of bottled restraint and rage cracking wide open. 

„You touch her again,“ Steve snarls, voice unrecognizable. „I will end you.“ 

The guy tries to swing back but he’s sloppy. Drunk. Steve’s rage is sharp and focused. Footsteps thunder up the stairs. Your brother shouting. Other voices pulling them apart before Steve can actually lose control and murdering your attacker. 

The guy is dragged out and the door slams shut behind them. 

Silence. Steve’s chest is heaving. His knuckles sting. His whole body trembling with leftover fury. Then he turns to you and the rage melts into something else entirely. 

You’re shaking. Eyes wide in fear. Breath uneven, trying so hard to hold yourself together. 

Steve’s voice changes. „Hey,“ he says softly. Careful, like he’s about to approach a wounded animal. „It’s me. It’s just me.“ 

You flinch at first - not from him, just from everything. He notices and it nearly breaks him. Steve drops to his knees in front of you. Slowly and without touching, so he wouldn’t scare you even more. „I’m here,“ he whispers. „You’re safe now.“ 

Your face crumbles and you fall into him. 

He catches you instantly, arms wrapping around you tight but gentle. One hand cradling the back of your head away from his shoulder so he doesn’t press against your bruised cheek. 

You break into full shaking sobs. „I told him no,“ You cry into his chest. „I told him to stop.“ 

„I know,“ Steve says quietly. „I know you did.“ 

„He wouldn’t listen… I swear I did…“ 

„That’s not on you.“ His voice is firm now, protective in a different way. „None of that is your fault. Not one second of it.“ 

Your fingers clutch his shirt like you’re drowning. „I was so scared.“ 

„I know,“ he says again and his voice cracks this time. „I should’ve been here sooner.“ 

„No,“ You choke out. „You came. You came to me.“ 

He presses his forehead gently to yours, careful of your injuries. „I’m so sorry,“ he breathes. „I’m so sorry you had to be scared like that.“ 

You shake your head weakly. „He said it was nothing. That I was overreacting.“ 

Steve pulls back just enough to look at you. His jaw tightens. „You said no,“ He tells you. „That’s it. That’s the whole sentence. That’s enough.“ 

You nod, tears still slipping down your face. His thumb brushes gently under your split lip, checking the damage like you’re made of glass. 

„Does it hurt?“ He asks quietly.

You shrug. He exhales shakily. 

„I need you to hear me,“ he says, voice softer that you’ve ever heard it. „You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t lead him on. You didn’t owe him anything. You don’t have to be polite when someone makes you uncomfortable. Not ever.“ 

Your breathing starts to slow. Steve shifts so you’re sitting on his lap on the floor, holding you fully now. One hand rubbing slow circles into your back. You bury your face in is neck and for a long time, he just stays like that. 

Letting you cry. Letting you shake. Kissing your hair. Murmuring soft reassurances between two breaths. 

When you finally quiet down, he pulls back slightly. „Can I clean your lip?“ He asks gently. „Just a little.“ 

You nod. He does it so carefully. Like he’s handling something sacred. After, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. 

„I’m really proud of you,“ Steve says suddenly. 

You blink at him. „For what?“ 

„For fighting back. For locking the door. For calling me.“ His thumb brushes your cheek, avoiding the bruise. „You did everything right.“ 

Your eyes fill again - but not from fear this time. He presses his forehead to yours one more time. „I love you,“ he says. „And if anyone ever makes you feel unsafe again, I will be there. Always.“ 

„I love you too, Steve,“ You lift your chin and he closes the small distance between your lips. The kiss is soft like a feather. So gentle it almost shatters you into a million pieces. 

When you part again, you catch his gaze. „Can you take me to your house? I - I don’t want to stay here tonight.“ 

Steve doesn’t hesitate. „Yeah. Yeah, of corse.“ 

He helps you stand, one arm firm around your shoulders, the other holding your hand. When your brother tries to approach - face pale, stammering apologies - Steve doesn’t even look at him. „Not now,“ he says calm but final. 

Steve moves you quickly and careful. No one else gets to see you like this. 

The drive is quiet. His hand never leaves your thigh. You’re starring out the window, but you’re not really seeing anything. 

When you reach his house, he’s out of the car in seconds, coming around to open your door like he always does - except this time there’s no teasing. No princess comments. 

Inside, the house is quiet and dark. Empty. Safe. 

You stand there for a second in the hallway like you don’t know what to do with yourself. Then you whisper, „I feel … dirty.“ 

Steve’s heart squeezes. He steps closer but doesn’t crowd you. „You’re not,“ he says softly. „Not even a little.“ 

You swallow hard. „I just … I need a shower. I need it … him off me.“ 

„Okay,“ he nods immediately. „Towels are in the cabinet. I’ll get you one.“

You turn toward the bathroom, then pause. „Steve?“ 

He’s there instantly. „Yeah?“ 

Your voice trembles just slightly. „Will you … will you come with me?“ 

He blinks, clearly unsure what would be the right thing to say. 

„Not like …“ you stutter. „Not like that. I just… I don’t want to be alone. And I don’t want to feel like it’s just me in there.“ 

Something protective and tender settles over his features. „Yeah,“ he says. „Yeah, I’ll come with you.“ 

Hey keeps his movements slow. Gives you control and let’s you set the pace. Te bathroom fills with steam, the water runs warm and you step in first. For a second, you just stand there under the spray, shoulders tight. 

Steve steps in behind you a moment later, careful to give you enough space. The closeness is different tonight. Not playful or charged like usual. Just present. 

Then you turn around and press your forehead against his chest. His arms come around you immediately. 

„I can still feel the grip,“ you croak. 

Steve exhales slowly, one hand cradling the back of your head. „I’ve got you,“ he murmurs. „I’ve got you now.“ 

You guide his hands. „Can you… wash me?“ 

It nearly undoes him - not because it’s intimate in a romantic way, but because you’re trusting him with something fragile. „Okay,“ he says gently. 

He lathers soap in his palms first, warming it so it’s not cold against your skin. Then he starts at your shoulders. Slow and careful. 

He doesn’t rush, doesn’t stare. Steve just focuses. 

His thumbs glide down your arms, washing away sweat, fear and the ghost of someone else’s grip. 

„You tell me if anything feels wrong,“ he says, voice heavy with affection. 

„It doesn’t,“ you answer. „It feels better.“ 

When he reaches your wrists, he pauses - thumb brushing softly over where the grip had been too tight earlier. His jaw tightens at the thought of that. But he doesn’t say anything angry. Instead the presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

„You don’t belong to anyone but yourself,“ he murmurs against your skin. 

Tears mix with the water on your cheeks. You turn so he can wash your back. His touch is featherlight at first, then steadier. The steam wraps around you both, warm and cocooning. For the first time all night, your breathing starts to slow down. 

You lean back into him. He presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. „Still feel dirty?“

You shake your head. „No. Just tired.“ 

Steve rests his cheek against your damp hair. „Good,“ he says gently. „Your safe here.“ 

You tilt your face up and he kisses you - not desperate, not heated. Just slow, tender and reassuring. His hands stay respectful. Protective without being possessive. 

When you finally step out of the shower, wrapped in his towel, he dries your hair with one of his own like it’s the most important task he’s ever had. 

Later in his bed, your curl into him. His clothes feel like a shield on your body. His arm is around you. Solid and strong. 

You press your face into his chest. „Thank you.“ 

„For what?“

„For not making me feel ashamed.“ 

He tightens his hold just slightly. „You never have to be ashamed,“ he says. „Not with me.“ 

And when you finally fall asleep, it’s the first deep, steady rest you’ve had all night. Steve doesn’t sleep much. He just holds you. And makes sure you stay safe. 

_____________

Thank you so much for reading! All interactions are highly appreciated 💙

STEVE HARRINGTON MASTERLIST

[firelilyfox]

Thank you for sharing! 💕

[firelilyfox]

make-out session

Pairing: Robert Reynolds x female reader

Summary: Making out with Bob. That's it. That's the plot.

Warnings: heavy making out. dating Bob Reynolds. kissing & touching. no use of y/n.

_________________

The tower is quiet. Suspiciously quiet.

Most of the team is gone on a three-day mission overseas, leaving the compound weirdly peaceful for once.

No arguing in the kitchen. No training alarms. No Yelena stealing food directly off other people’s plates.

Just soft music drifting from the speakers and rain tapping lazily against the windows. And that peace has gone very, very intimate.

“I’m trying to have a conversation with you,” you mumble breathlessly.

Bob nods immediately against your mouth. “Right. Yeah. Totally.” Then he kisses you again anyway.

Your laugh dissolves into another kiss almost instantly. God. Kissing Bob is dangerous. Because underneath all the sadness and carefulness is someone who loves intensely. Someone touch-starved enough that every soft sound you make seems to unravel him further.

Right now he’s standing between your knees while you sit on the kitchen counter, his hands gripping your waist carefully but possessively enough to make your pulse flutter.

“You’re distracting,” he murmurs against your lips.

“You lifted me onto the counter.”

“I know,” he says weakly. “That was my first mistake.”

Your fingers slide into his hair and Bob physically melts. Like actually sags slightly against you. It’s adorable. And kind of hot.

“You know,” you whisper teasingly, “for someone who thought I’d never like him back, you got confident fast.”

Bob groans softly into your shoulder. “Please don’t make me self-aware right now.”

You laugh. And maybe that’s what does it. The sound and the warmth. The way your legs tighten slightly around his waist when he kisses you deeper.

Because suddenly Bob’s restraint snaps completely. His hands slide beneath your thighs and before you can even gasp, he pulls you harshly against his hard body and digs his fingers into your flesh.

A vase immediately crashes to the floor behind you. Neither of you notices. Because Bob’s kissing you like he’s trying to memorize you.

Slow one second. Desperate the next.

Your hands are tugging his shirt halfway off his shoulders while his forehead rests briefly against yours, breathing uneven. He grabs the hem of your top and drags it painfully slow over your head. His eyes following every inch revealing your naked skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers suddenly. The sincerity in his voice almost kills you.

“Bob—”

But you couldn't finish the sentence because suddenly the elevator dings. Both of you freeze. Voices echo through the tower entrance.

“Oh my God,” you whisper.

Bob goes pale instantly. “No no no no—”

The team was supposed to be gone until tomorrow. Heavy footsteps approach rapidly. You hear Yelena laughing about something.

Then John saying: “Why is there dramatic music playing?”

Panic. Immediate panic. Bob looks around wildly. You point frantically toward the tiny storage room beside the kitchen. “THERE.”

Neither of you has time to think. Bob grabs your hand and practically stumbles toward the door while grabbing his shirt from the floor and pressing into your free hand.

You barely manage to shut the storage room door before voices enter the kitchen. Darkness swallows both of you instantly. And unfortunately the storage room is tiny.

You’re pressed completely against Bob’s chest while he braces one hand against the wall beside your head trying very hard not to breathe too loudly. You could feel something hard pressed against your belly and bite down on your lower lip. Bob presses his eyes shut and he looked absolutely tortured right now.

Outside there was silence.

Then Alexei’s voice: “…Why vase broken?”

Oh no. Your shoulders start shaking immediately with suppressed laughter.

Bob looks horrified. “Do not laugh,” he whispers soundlessly.

His hair is completely wrecked. His shirt is covering you, so his upper body is completely naked. His lips are swollen from kissing.

You almost die on the spot.

Outside the room, footsteps move cautiously.

Then Bucky’s voice goes flat. “Something’s wrong.”

Oh God. Not Winter Soldier mode.

Ava immediately speaks up. “There’s broken glass.”

John: “Could be an intruder.”

Yelena: “Or raccoon.”

Bucky: “…What kind of raccoon breaks ceramic?”

Yelena: “Very determined one.”

Inside the storage closet, Bob presses his forehead silently against your shoulder like he’s begging the universe to kill him quickly.

You bite your lip hard enough to hurt trying not to laugh. Then a gun cocks outside.

Bob’s eyes widen in horror. “Oh no,” he mouths silently.

The storage room door flies open. And there stands Yelena with a gun pointed directly at both of you.

The silence that follows is catastrophic. Yelena blinks once. Twice. Then slowly lowers the gun. Because Bob is standing there shirtless with messy hair while shielding you from the looks of the others. Your lipstick is literally smeared across his mouth.

Yelena stares. Then her expression transforms instantly into pure delight. “Oh my God.”

Behind her, the others crowd closer. John squints. “…Oh.”

Ava immediately covers her face. “NO.”

Alexei bursts into thunderous laughter so violently he has to grab the wall.

Bucky looks directly at Bob. Then at the storage closet. Then back at Bob. “…Seriously?”

Bob makes a tiny miserable sound. “I can explain.”

“You cannot,” Yelena says immediately. “And I pray you do not try.”

Your face is burning so hot you think you might evaporate. Bob looks seconds away from walking directly into the ocean.

Yelena crosses her arms smugly. “So THIS is why vase exploded.”

“Nobody exploded anything,” Bob mutters weakly.

Alexei points dramatically. “You were doing romance!”

“Oh my God,” you whisper into your hands. "Please don't say it like that."

Bucky looks genuinely exhausted now. “You made us clear the entire floor because you were making out?”

Bob’s voice goes strangled. “I didn’t know you were back!”

Yelena grins wickedly. “You hid in closet.”

“There was a gun involved!” He chokes.

“Not at first.”

Ava is still hiding her face. “I hate all of this.”

Then Yelena notices something. Her eyes narrow slightly. Then immediately light up with evil. “Ohhhhh.”

Bob visibly tenses. “What?”

Yelena points dramatically at his neck. “You have hickey.”

The room absolutely erupts. John nearly falls over laughing. Alexei starts applauding. Ava walks directly away muttering that she deserves financial compensation for witnessing this.

And Bob? Bob finally gives up completely.

He drops his face directly into your shoulder with a groan of absolute despair while everyone laughs around him.

But underneath the embarrassment you can feel him smiling. Just a little. Because despite the chaos and teasing and complete tactical humiliation ... He’s happy.

And judging by the way his arms tighten around your waist while he hides against you, he still can’t quite believe he gets to be loved like this at all.

______________

Thank you so much for reading! All interactions are highly appreciated

BOB REYNOLDS MASTERLIST

[firelilyfox]

hii can i please request a Steve x reader fic? After the party are on the way back from the upside down (maybeee season four or whatever your comfortable with) someone notices she’s badly injured but she didn’t notice because of everything happening and being in shock Steve kinda freaks out then all ends up being well or something like that feel free to adjust things because I’m not the best at explaining things like this😭 if you do take this I very much appreciate it love your work btw💗

thank you very much for the request! this was so fun💕

shut up and drive

Pairing: Steve Harrington x female reader

Warnings: blood. bad injuries. hurt/angst/comfort. protective boyfriend vibes. established relationship. no use of y/n.

____________

The first thing Robin notices is the blood. The second thing she notices is that there's way too much of it.

"Uh…" she says slowly.

The backseat of Steve's car is crowded and miserable. Everyone smells like dirt, sweat, smoke, and the Upside Down.

Your head is resting against the window and you are way too quiet. Way too pale.

"Guys?"

Nobody answers. Steve is too busy white-knuckling the steering wheel. Nancy is arguing with Dustin about something.

Then Robin's eyes land on your side. And she freezes. "Oh my God."

Everyone turns.

"What?" Steve asks immediately.

Robin points. "THAT."

The entire car goes silent. Your shirt is soaked. Not stained. Soaked. Dark blood spreads across your side and down into the seat beneath you.

And somehow nobody noticed before. Probably because everybody is injured. Probably because the last twelve hours have been absolute insanity.

Steve looks into the rear view mirror. And immediately goes white. "WHAT THE HELL?"

The car jerks forward and everyone screams.

"STEVE!" Nancy yells.

"She's bleeding!"

"I CAN SEE THAT!"

The speedometer climbs. Fast ... very fast.

"Steve, slow down!"

"No!"

"Steve!"

"NO!"

"You're gonna kill us!"

"She is literally bleeding out in my backseat, Robin!"

The engine roars. The car takes a corner way too fast. Everyone gets thrown sideways.

Dustin slams against the door. "OH MY GOD!" He grabs the handle above the window. "I'M TOO YOUNG FOR THIS!"

Robin holds onto the back of the front seats with a death grip. "I already almost died once this week."

"Hospital," Steve says. Nobody misses how his voice cracks. "We're going to the hospital."

Nancy immediately turns around. "Steve, think."

"No."

"The hospital is going to ask questions."

"I DON'T CARE."

"You can't explain Upside Down injuries."

"I DON'T CARE."

Robin is clutching the seat. "Guys, maybe less arguing and more not crashing?"

Steve points wildly toward the backseat without taking his eyes off the road. "LOOK AT HER!"

Everyone does. Your eyes are closed now. Not unconscious. Just exhausted. Barely holding on. And suddenly nobody has a counterargument.

Because Steve is right. This isn't a scraped knee or a twisted ankle. This is serious. Very serious.

Steve's knuckles turn white around the steering wheel. "She's going to the hospital. End of discussion."

Nobody argues again.

The emergency room is a chaos. Mostly because Steve creates chaos wherever he goes.

"Sir, we're going as fast as we can—"

"Not fast enough."

"Sir ..."

"Not. Fast. Enough."

Robin physically grabs his jacket. "Steve."

"No."

"Steve."

"Robin, if they don't hurry—"

"They ARE hurrying."

Steve starts pacing. Then sits. Then stands again. Then sits. Then immediately stands again. A nurse finally tells him to stop frightening the other patients.

Hours later the adrenaline starts wearing off. And suddenly Steve just looks scared. He sits hunched in an uncomfortable plastic chair outside your room.

Hair a mess. Bandages still visible on his own neck. His eyes haven't left the door in over an hour. Not once.

Robin eventually sits beside him. For a while neither speaks.

Then quietly— "She's okay."

Steve swallows hard. "Yeah."

"You got her here."

Another nod. His voice comes out rough. "I thought…" He can't finish.

Robin doesn't make him. Because she knows. Everyone in the Upside Down has had that thought at least once. Don't die. Please don't die.

When you finally wake up, it's dark outside. The room is quiet except for the steady beeping of monitors. Your side aches immediately and everything feels heavy.

You blink slowly. And hear a chair scrape.

"Hey."

Steve. You turn your head. He's sitting beside the bed. Still wearing dirt-stained clothes. Still looking exhausted.

Like he never left. Which, honestly? He probably didn't.

Your throat feels dry. "Hi."

The smile that appears on his face could cure diseases. "Oh thank god."

Your chest warms immediately. Even through the pain. "What happened?"

"You scared ten years off my life."

You blink. Steve laughs weakly. And suddenly his eyes are suspiciously shiny.

"Seriously." His voice drops softer. "You scared the hell out of me."

Memories start coming back. The fight. The pain. The blood. "Oh."

"Yeah."

A long silence settles. Then Steve reaches for your hand. Carefully. Like you're fragile. Like he still isn't fully convinced you're okay.

His thumb brushes over your knuckles. "You lost a lot of blood."

"Sorry."

"Did you just apologize for bleeding? God, you can't be serious..."

The response comes immediately. Almost offended and at that you smile faintly.

Steve shakes his head. Then squeezes your hand. "I mean it." His voice turns quiet. "If you're hurt, don't apologize."

The room grows still. Moonlight spills through the window. And for a second Steve just looks at you. Like he's making sure you're actually here.

Actually breathing. Actually alive.

Then suddenly he leans forward and rests his forehead carefully against the back of your hand. The movement is so gentle it nearly breaks your heart.

"You know," he murmurs, voice thick, "next time we fight monsters from another dimension…"

You smile weakly. "Yeah?"

Steve lifts his head. His eyes are tired. "…let's try the version where you don't almost die."

A laugh escapes you despite the pain. Steve immediately brightens. "Damn i missed that."

"What?"

"That laugh." He smiles. Big and warm and unmistakably Steve. The kind of smile that always feels like coming home.

He leans over to you and kisses you softly. And for the first time since the Upside Down ... everything feels okay.

______________

Thank you so much for reading! All interactions are highly appreciated💙

STEVE HARRINGTON MASTERLIST

[firelilyfox]

Don’t touch her

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x female reader

Summary: You get hurt on a mission and your boyfriend can be terrifying to mess with.

Warnings: blood. hurt/comfort. hurt/angst. violence. injuries. rage. no use of y/n.

_________________________

The warehouse smells like smoke and blood and everything after that just becomes noise.

Gunfire. Shouting. Boots against concrete.

Another mission gone wrong. Typical Thunderbolts luck.

Bob lands hard against a steel support beam after taking a hit strong enough to crack the wall behind him. Pain barely registers. Because across the room … he sees you.

And immediately something inside him turns to ice. You’re fighting two men at once near the loading dock, movements sharp and efficient despite the blood already staining one sleeve of your tactical jacket.

Former Red Room training moves through you like instinct. Fast. Precise. Ruthless. But one of the men catches your wrist at exactly the wrong angle.

Your knife skids across the concrete. And then a blade flashes. Bob sees it happen in terrible slow motion.

The knife drives into your side. Your breath catches sharply. For one awful second, you just stare down at it in shock.

Then the man rips it free. You collapse hard onto your knees.

Something in Bob breaks.Not metaphorically or emotionally. It actually breaks.

The world narrows into one violent point. You’re hurt. That’s it. That’s all that exists anymore.

Bob is suddenly there. One second across the warehouse. The next directly in front of the man who stabbed you.

And God. The look on his face. Bucky sees it immediately and his stomach drops.

Because that isn’t just anger. That’s rage stripped raw. Pure terrifying fury. The kind that stops feeling human.

The attacker barely has time to react before Bob grabs him by the throat and slams him into the concrete hard enough to crater it.

The entire warehouse shakes.

“Bob!” John shouts.

No response. The man struggles desperately in Bob’s grip. It doesn’t matter. Bob barely seems aware of anything except the blood spreading beneath you across the floor.

His voice comes out low and shaking. “You touched her.”

The guy gasps for air. Bob slams him down again. And the concrete splinters. Yelena swears violently under her breath. Because Bob isn’t stopping. And everyone here knows exactly how dangerous that is.

The attacker reaches weakly for a weapon. Bob catches his wrist and breaks it instantly. The scream echoes through the warehouse.

Still not enough. Bob’s eyes are glowing now. Wild. Furious. Terrified.

Like he’s one second away from becoming something catastrophic.

“Bob!” Nothing. The man coughs blood. Bob lifts him again like he weighs nothing.

And for one horrifying moment Bucky genuinely thinks Bob is about to kill him.

Brutally. Without hesitation.

Then weakly from the floor … “Bob.”

Everything stops. Immediately. Bob freezes. Your voice sounds small. Pained.

But alive.

His head snaps toward you so fast it almost looks painful. You’re curled against a support beam one hand clutched over your side, blood slipping between your fingers.

And yet you’re looking at him. Not afraid. Just worried … For him.

“Bob,” you whisper again.

The fury inside him cracks instantly. Like glass shattering. His grip loosens. The attacker collapses choking onto the floor.

Bucky moves immediately, grabbing the man while Yelena secures the weapon.

But Bob barely notices. He’s already dropping to his knees beside you. And suddenly he looks horrified.

Not angry anymore. Just devastated. “Oh God.”

His hands hover helplessly over you.

Afraid to touch. Afraid to hurt you worse. Afraid this isn’t real.

Your breathing shakes painfully. “Hey,” you whisper again weakly.

Bob’s voice breaks immediately. “I’m sorry.”

The apology nearly destroys you. “Bob—”

“I should’ve gotten there faster.”

“No.”

“You were bleeding and I—”

“Bob.” Your hand fumbles for his wrist.

He stills instantly. Tears are already gathering in his eyes. “I thought…” His voice fractures completely. “I thought you died.”

Your chest aches so hard it feels unbearable. Slowly you guide his trembling hand against your chest. Right over your heartbeat.

Bob freezes. And there in the middle of the ruined warehouse, under flickering lights and blood and wreckage—

He feels it.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Alive.

Your heartbeat presses steady against his palm. You look at him softly despite the pain. “I’m still here,” you whisper.

Bob makes this tiny broken sound that doesn’t even seem intentional. His forehead drops against yours instantly.

Eyes squeezed shut hard. Like relief physically hurts.

Your fingers slide weakly into his hair. “Breathe,” you murmur softly.

He tries. God, he tries. But his entire body is shaking now. Not rage anymore. Fear. Pure overwhelming fear at almost losing you.

“You scared me,” he whispers hoarsely against your forehead.

Your tired smile trembles slightly. “You scared everyone.”

A wet laugh escapes him unexpectedly.

Somewhere behind you, Yelena mutters: “Understatement of century.”

Bucky’s voice follows flatly: “You punched a man through concrete.”

“I know,” Bob whispers miserably.

You manage a tiny weak grin despite yourself. “Little overprotective.”

Bob finally lifts his head enough to look at you. And the devastation in his expression nearly cracks your heart open. “I couldn’t lose you.”

The honesty in his voice is terrifying. Absolute. Like the thought alone nearly destroyed him.

Your thumb brushes weakly against his cheek. “You won’t.”

His eyes close briefly at that. Then carefully—so carefully—he leans down and presses a trembling kiss against your forehead.

Protective and reverent. Like he’s thanking the universe for letting you stay. Behind him, the rest of the team exchanges silent looks.

Because they’ve all seen Bob dangerous before. But this?

This was different. This was love sharpened into terror.

And somehow the scariest part wasn’t his rage. It was the way he came apart the second he realized you were still breathing.

————————

Thank you so much for reading! 💙 all interactions are highly appreciated

BOB REYNOLDS MASTERLIST

[firelilyfox]

Bad Nights Still Happen

Pairing: Cameron Cassmore x female reader

Summary: You find him in a very vulnerable state. And he feels ashamed for you seeing him like this.

Warnings: hurt/comfort. dating Cameron. crying. healing. love confessions. mental health. lonely people healing each other. no use of y/n.

_______________

The soup is probably getting cold.

You realize that halfway to Cameron’s house, hands curled carefully around the container balanced on the passenger seat beside you.

Tomato soup and grilled cheese wrapped in foil. Because Cameron once admitted, almost sheepishly, that he mostly survives on takeout and cereal when nobody reminds him to eat properly.

And because loving someone, you’re beginning to learn, sometimes looks very small.

Showing up without being asked to. A porch light left on. Remembering the things they say casually.

The house is dark when you pull up. Not completely, because the warm kitchen light glows faintly through one of the windows.

Good. He’s awake.

Rain taps softly against your umbrella as you walk up the porch steps balancing the food carefully in your arms.

You knock once. No answer. You try the handle gently. Unlocked.

“Cameron?” you call softly as you step inside.

The house smells faintly like coffee and dish soap. A loud crash explodes from somewhere deeper inside the house.

You jump violently. “Cameron!?”

Nothing. Your stomach drops instantly. You hurry toward the sound, heart pounding now. “Cameron!”

Still nothing. Then you round the corner into the kitchen ... and stop abruptly.

A ceramic bowl lies shattered across the floor. One of the chairs has been knocked sideways. And Cameron ...

Oh God.

Cameron is standing at the kitchen counter with both hands braced against it like it’s the only thing keeping him upright.

His shoulders are shaking. He doesn’t even notice you at first. He’s crying so hard he can barely breathe. Not quiet tears. Not movie tears.

The kind that come from somewhere deep and ugly and exhausted. Like his whole body finally gave out trying to carry something too heavy alone.

Your heart breaks instantly. “Cameron…”

His head jerks up. For one awful second, pure panic flashes across his face. Like he’s horrified you’re seeing him like this.

He turns away immediately, wiping harshly at his face. “I’m fine.”

The lie barely survives the shaking in his voice. You set the food down quickly on the nearest counter. “Hey,” you say softly. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” His laugh comes out cracked and miserable. “Jesus Christ.”

He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes hard enough to hurt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t know you were coming.”

The apology nearly kills you. Like this is somehow inconvenient for you.

You step carefully around the broken ceramic pieces. “What happened?”

Cameron shakes his head immediately. “Nothing.”

Another lie. His chest is heaving too hard for “nothing.” You glance at the shattered bowl. Then at him and suddenly you understand. Not the exact reason., just the feeling.

One thing too many. One thought too loud. One moment where holding yourself together becomes impossible.

Bad nights still happen. Even when you’re healing. Especially then, sometimes.

“Cameron,” you say gently.

And something in your voice must crack through whatever wall he’s trying to build because suddenly his face folds in on itself again.

“I was doing okay,” he whispers.

Your chest aches so hard it feels physical. “I know.”

“I was.” Tears spill down his face again immediately, frustrated now. “I don’t even know what happened. I just…” He gestures helplessly toward the kitchen. “I dropped the stupid bowl and then suddenly I couldn’t -”

His breath catches violently. “I couldn’t stop thinking.”

You move closer slowly. “What were you thinking about?”

He laughs bitterly to himself. “All of it.” The words come wrecked. “My mom. My dad. The years I wasted. The fact that I still feel like I’m twelve years old pretending to be a person half the time.”

Your eyes sting instantly. Cameron shakes his head hard.

“And the worst part is I thought maybe I was getting better.” His voice cracks. “But then nights like this happen and it feels like I’m still broken underneath everything.”

“No,” you say immediately.

But he keeps going like he can’t stop now that it’s finally coming out. “I’m tired,” he whispers. “I’m so tired of feeling lonely all the time.”

The room goes painfully quiet. Because there it is. The real wound underneath all of it. Loneliness.

An ache that never fully leaves.

You reach him carefully then. Your hands settle softly against his arms. Cameron goes still immediately. Not pulling away. Just… stunned somehow.

“You are not broken because you had a bad night,” you whisper.

His eyes close hard. “But it keeps happening.”

“Yes,” you say softly. “Because healing isn’t linear.”

He laughs weakly through tears. “That sounds like something from a therapy poster.”

“Probably,” you admit quietly. “Still true.”

Cameron’s breathing shakes unevenly. “I hate this,” he whispers.

“I know.”

“I hate that you’re seeing me like this.”

Your heart cracks clean open. “Cameron.”

He finally looks at you. Completely devastated. Completely human. And somehow you’ve never loved him more.

“You know what I see?” you ask softly. He shakes his head once. “I see someone who’s trying.”

Emotion flashes painfully across his face.

“You keep waking up every day,” you continue gently. “You keep letting people care about you even though it scares you. You keep hoping things might feel better someday.”

A tear slips down his cheek.

“That’s not weakness.”

His mouth trembles slightly. “You came over with soup,” he whispers suddenly, voice breaking again.

You blink. “What?”

“I saw the container.”

Your chest aches. “Yeah,” you murmur.

Cameron lets out this tiny wounded sound that almost doesn’t sound human at all. Like kindness hurts him sometimes. “You’re so good to me.”

The words unravel something in you instantly. You step closer without thinking and wrap your arms around him. And for a second Cameron freezes.

Like he forgot people are allowed to hold him when he falls apart. Then suddenly he’s clutching you back hard enough to shake. His face buries against your shoulder. And he cries. The kind someone only does when they’re exhausted from pretending they’re okay.

You hold him through all of it. Your hand moving slowly up and down his back. “It’s okay,” you whisper softly. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out.

“No.” You pull back just enough to look at him. “No apologizing for hurting.”

His eyes shine miserably. “But you came over and now I’m -”

“You’re human,” you interrupt gently.

Silence. Rain taps softly against the windows. The kitchen light hums quietly overhead.

Cameron’s breathing begins to settle. He still looks wrecked. But less alone.

A few minutes later, you’re both sitting on the kitchen floor beside the broken bowl. The soup is warming on the stove now.

Cameron’s shoulder rests lightly against yours. “I really thought getting happier meant this part would disappear,” he admits quietly.

You glance at him. “The sadness?”

He nods.

You lean your head gently against his shoulder. “I think maybe it just gets easier not to face it alone.”

Cameron goes very still beside you. Then his fingers slowly find yours. Holding on carefully.

Outside, rain continues falling softly through the dark. The soup sits half-finished on the coffee table. Neither of you has touched it in several minutes.

The rain outside has softened now, turning the whole house quiet except for the occasional creak of pipes and the low hum of the lamp beside the couch.

Cameron sits hunched forward slightly, elbows on his knees. Still tired. Still emotionally wrung out. But calmer now.

You’re tucked against his side beneath a blanket, your hand absentmindedly tracing slow patterns against the sleeve of his sweater.

For a while, he just watches your fingers move. Then he says “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You look up slightly. “Hmm?”

Cameron swallows hard. “When I said I feel lonely all the time.”

Oh? Your chest tightens immediately.

He won’t meet your eyes. “I don’t want you thinking…” He laughs weakly to himself. “God, I don’t even know how to explain this right.”

“You can try.”

Silence stretches for a moment. Then Cameron exhales shakily.

“You make me happier than anyone ever has,” he says quietly. “Like, by a lot.” Emotion flickers softly through you.

“But sometimes the sadness is still there anyway.” His voice sounds ashamed of it. “And I got scared you’d hear that and think you weren’t enough.”

Your heart breaks a little. Not because of what he said. Because of how guilty he looks saying it. You shift immediately, turning toward him fully beneath the blanket.

“Cameron.” His eyes finally lift to yours. “I know exactly what you meant.”

He blinks slightly. “You do?”

“Yes.” Your fingers slide gently through his. “Sadness like that doesn’t disappear just because something beautiful enters your life,” you whisper. “It’s not a reflection of how much you care about me.”

His face softens slowly as he listens.

“You can feel deeply for someone completely,” you continue quietly, “and still carry grief. Or loneliness. Or old wounds.”

Cameron’s throat bobs hard.

“I think people like us…” You smile sadly. “We feel things deeply. The good and the bad.”

His eyes shine slightly at that.

“And honestly?” you murmur. “I never once heard you say I wasn’t enough.”

A shaky breath leaves him.

“I heard someone scared that they’re too damaged to enjoy being loved properly.”

That one hits him hard. You can see it. His expression crumples around the edges.

“Hey,” you whisper softly. “Look at me.”

He does.

“You never make me feel unwanted.” Your thumb brushes gently across his knuckles. “You make me feel seen.”

The silence after that feels fragile somehow. Cameron stares at you like he’s trying to absorb every word directly into his bloodstream. Then suddenly he laughs quietly to himself.

“What?”

He shakes his head once. “It’s just…” His voice turns rough unexpectedly. “I don’t know how you do this.”

“Do what?”

“Understand me.”

Your chest aches warmly. Because that’s all lonely people really want, isn’t it? To be understood without having to translate themselves first.

“You understand me too,” you whisper.

Cameron looks down at your joined hands for a long moment. Then very softly he whispers “I love you.”

The words slip out accidentally. You can tell immediately. The second he says them, his entire body stills. Like he didn’t even realize they were waiting there.

His eyes widen slightly. “Oh.”

Your heart practically stops. Cameron looks genuinely stunned with himself. “I—” he stammers quietly. “I didn’t mean to just—”

But you’re already smiling. Like some part of you already knew. And that expression completely undoes him.

“You don’t have to take it back,” you whisper.

His face warms immediately. “I wasn’t going to,” he admits after a second.

Your eyes sting a little. Cameron shakes his head softly, almost overwhelmed now.

“I just…” He looks at you helplessly. “I really love you.”

The honesty in his voice nearly cracks your heart wide open. You move closer without thinking, your hand sliding gently against his cheek.

“I love you too.”

Cameron closes his eyes for one tiny second like hearing that physically hurts in the best way. Then he leans into your touch instinctively. So trusting. So careful with his heart.

He kisses you.

And it’s tender in the most devastating way imaginable. Not desperate or hurried. Just Cameron holding your face like something precious while his mouth moves softly against yours.

Like he’s trying to say every feeling he’s ever struggled to put into words. The kiss tastes faintly like rain and cooled-off soup and relief.

Your fingers slip into the hair at the back of his neck, and Cameron melts immediately at the touch, a tiny broken sound escaping him before he can stop it.

The sound nearly ruins you. Because nobody’s ever kissed you like this either. Like they’re grateful for your existence. Like they’re kissing a person instead of trying to take something.

Cameron pulls back only slightly, forehead still resting against yours.

His eyes stay closed for a second longer. Like he wants to live inside this moment forever.

“I thought maybe the lonely feeling meant something was wrong with me,” he admits quietly.

You brush your thumb beneath his eye softly. “No,” you whisper. “I think it just means you’ve spent a long time carrying things alone.” His breathing catches slightly. “But you don’t anymore.”

And something in Cameron finally eases at that. Not completely. Healing never works that way.

But enough. Enough for him to pull you gently into his arms again. Enough for him to rest his forehead against yours again with this tiny, disbelieving smile.

Enough for the loneliness to loosen its grip for one quiet moment.

Outside, rain continues falling softly through the dark. But inside?

Wrapped together beneath warm lamplight and half-forgotten soup and trembling confessions love settles carefully between two aching people who finally found someone willing to stay.

_______________________

Thank you so much for reading! All interactions are highly appreciated 💙

[firelilyfox]

You Make Me Happy

Pairing: Cameron Cassmore x female reader

Summary: He may be not good with words but he needs to tell you how much you mean to him.

Warnings: love confession. first kiss. yearning big time. no use of y/n.

______________

The rain starts just after closing time. Of course it does.

For some reason, every important thing in Cameron’s life seems to happen in the rain. Cameron has been walking for almost an hour. No destination and no real reason.

Just wandering through damp streets with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket while his thoughts circle the same thing they’ve been circling for weeks now:

You.

The way you laugh softly like you’re surprised by your own happiness. The way you understand silence without trying to fill it. The way being around you makes the loneliness in him quiet down for a little while.

And God ... he likes you so much it almost hurts. Which is a problem. Because Cameron has become very good at wanting things quietly.

From a distance.

The café glows warm against the rainy street when he passes it. Soft yellow light spilling onto wet pavement. Cameron almost keeps walking. Then he sees you through the window. And suddenly he stops.

You’re alone inside.

Hair tied up in a messy bun. Sweater sleeves pushed up. A broom moving lazily across the floor while some song Cameron can’t hear clearly crackles through the café speakers.

And you’re dancing. Not performatively. Just little sleepy movements while you clean up for the night, mouthing lyrics to yourself with this tiny smile on your face.

It’s so painfully human that Cameron’s chest physically aches. Because you look so happy. Not pretending-to-be-okay happy.

Actually happy. And suddenly all he can think is: I would do anything to keep that look on your face.

Rainwater drips steadily from his hair while he stands there staring like an idiot through the window.

Then you spin slightly with the broom and finally notice him. You jump hard. Cameron immediately lifts both hands in apology, horrified.

“Oh my God, I'm so sorry!”

Your eyes widen. Then brighten instantly. And there it is again. That smile, the one that is so special to him.

You hurry toward the door. The little bell above it jingles softly as you pull it open. “You scared me!”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Cameron says immediately, already laughing nervously. “I wasn’t trying to be creepy, I swear.”

“You were being just a little bit creepy.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “That’s fair.”

You grin, stepping aside to let him in. Warmth wraps around him immediately after the cold rain outside. And somehow that feels dangerous. Because lately, you feel dangerous to him too.

Not in a bad way. In a I could really fall for you if I’m not careful kind of way. Too late, probably.

“What are you doing out there?” you ask, tucking one strand of loose hair behind you ear.

Cameron shrugs awkwardly. “Walking.”

“In the rain?”

“Feels thematic.”

That earns a soft laugh from you. God. He loves that sound.

You lean the broom against the counter. “Well, now you’re wet and weird in my café.”

“Your hospitality is incredible.”

“I try.” The teasing settles warmly between you. Easy and familiar.

But tonight there’s something else underneath it too. Something tighter. Cameron feels it every time your eyes meet his for more than a second.

You tilt your head slightly after a moment. “You okay?”

And there it is. That terrifying gentleness you always have with him.

Cameron exhales shakily through his nose. “Yeah,” he lies automatically.

Your expression says you don’t believe him for a second. “Cameron.”

The way you say his name... Soft. Careful. Like it matters. It completely ruins him. He looks down briefly, rainwater still dripping from the sleeves of his jacket.

Then laughs quietly to himself. “I had this whole speech in my head earlier.”

Your brows lift slightly. “…That sounds ominous.”

“Yeah,” he says weakly. “It kinda is.”

Your smile fades into concern. And suddenly Cameron realizes something horrifying:

He’s actually going to say it. Oh no.

He rubs nervously at the back of his neck. “I think about you all the time.”

Well. There it is. Your breath catches slightly. Cameron keeps going before he loses courage completely.

“I try not to,” he admits with a shaky laugh. “But then I see something funny and wanna tell you about it, or hear a song and wonder if you’d like it, or…” He swallows hard. “Or I just miss you for no reason.”

The café feels very quiet suddenly. Rain taps softly against the windows. Your eyes stay fixed on him like you’re afraid to interrupt.

“I know we’re both kinda…” Cameron gestures vaguely. “Sad people.”

That pulls the tiniest smile from you.

“But when you’re happy?” he says softly. “Like just now, dancing around with your broom like a dork…”

You laugh through a surprised breath.

Cameron’s chest tightens at the sound. “When you’re happy,” he repeats more quietly, “it makes me feel like maybe things can be okay.”

Your eyes start shining immediately. Oh no. Oh God.

Cameron panics instantly. “No, hey...don’t cry, I didn’t mean -”

You cover your mouth suddenly, tears spilling over anyway.

“I’m sorry,” Cameron says quickly, horrified now. “I swear I wasn’t trying to upset you -”

“You didn’t.” Your voice breaks around the words.

Cameron stops. You shake your head quickly, laughing shakily through tears. “You didn’t upset me.”

“Then why are you crying?” The question comes out so genuinely concerned that you almost cry harder.

Because there he is again. That sweet aching boy who cares so much.

You wipe at your eyes helplessly. “It’s just…” You laugh weakly. “Nobody’s ever said something like that to me before.”

Cameron’s heart cracks clean open. “What? Seriously?”

You nod once. And something fierce and tender blooms in his chest all at once. Because how could nobody have told you? How could nobody have looked at you and thought: there you are.

He steps closer carefully. Slow enough to stop if you want him to. “I really really like you,” he says softly.

Your eyes close briefly like the words physically hit you. “I like you too,” you whisper.

Cameron lets out the breath he’s been holding for what feels like centuries.

Then you laugh shakily again. “You already make me happy, you know.”

God. The look on his face at that ... Like someone just handed him something sacred.

“Yeah?” he asks quietly.

You nod. “Yeah.”

The silence that follows feels enormous. Tender and fragile. Cameron glances at your mouth before he can stop himself.

Then immediately looks away again. But you noticed. Of course you noticed.

Your voice comes softer now. “Cameron?”

“Yeah?”

“You can kiss me if you want to.”

His entire brain short-circuits. “Oh.”

You laugh wetly. “That was not smooth at all.”

“No, I just -” Cameron shakes his head, smiling helplessly now. “I’ve wanted to do that for, like… an embarrassing amount of time.”

Your smile turns shy. “Good.”

And then finally ... Finally -

He kisses you.

Careful at first. Like he’s still half-convinced he imagined this whole moment. But the second you kiss him back, soft and warm and real, Cameron melts.

His hand comes up gently against your cheek while yours grips the front of his rain-damp jacket.

And the kiss feels exactly like the two of you always have:

Quiet. Tender. A little sad. But hopeful.

When you pull apart, both of you are smiling so hard it almost hurts. Outside, rain continues falling softly against the dark streets.

But inside the little café? Warm light wraps around both of you. And for once neither of you feels lonely at all.

______________________________

Thank you so much for reading! All interactions are highly appreciated 💙

[firelilyfox]

Bob’s Girlfriend

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x female reader

Summary: The Thunderbolts love to tease Bob about how down bad he is for you.

Warnings: flirting. teasing. fun times with the Thunderbolts. yearning a bit. touching (innocently). heart eyed Bob. no use of y/n.

__________________

The first mistake is introducing you to the team game night.

The second mistake is letting Yelena discover how easy it is to embarrass Bob in front of you.

Because now? She absolutely lives for it.

“Okay,” John says dramatically, throwing cards onto the table, “someone explain to me how Bob won three rounds in a row.”

“Statistical probability,” Bob answers quietly.

Yelena narrows her eyes. “Suspicious answer.”

You laugh softly beside him and Bob glances over immediately. And there it is. That look. That impossibly tender oh there you are expression he gets every single time you smile at him.

Ava notices instantly. “Oh my God,” she mutters.

Bob blinks. “What?”

“You’re doing the face again.”

Bob freezes. “What face?”

“The one where you look at her like she personally invented sunlight.”

Your face immediately heats up.

Across the table, Alexei gasps dramatically. “Yes! Puppy eyes!”

Bob looks genuinely alarmed now. “I do not have puppy eyes.”

“You absolutely do,” John says.

Yelena points at you. “And she likes it.”

Bob nearly chokes to death and you hide your smile behind your drink. “I think it’s cute.”

Complete silence. The entire table watches Bob short-circuit in real time.

His ears turn pink instantly. “…Okay,” he says weakly after a second. “You think I'm cute?.”

Yelena slams a hand against the table triumphantly. “He is blushing!”

“I hate all of you.”

“No you don’t,” you murmur affectionately beside him and Bob looks at you only to immediately softens again.

Ava groans loudly. “UGH. There it is again.”

The next incident happens during training. Which is unfortunate, because the entire team witnesses it.

You’re sparring with Bucky. Which is a bad idea, honestly. Not because you’re unskilled, but because Bucky fights like a brick wall with emotional repression issues.

One badly blocked hit later and you stumble backward with a sharp hiss. Bob is across the room instantly. Like genuinely superhuman fast.

One second he’s standing near the weights and the next he’s beside you gripping your shoulders carefully. “You okay?”

The concern in his voice is immediate. Sharp and protective.

You blink up at him. “I’m fine.”

Bob’s eyes scan you anxiously anyway. “Your wrist is hurt.”

“It’s just sore.”

Bucky watches this interaction silently. Then slowly glances at Yelena.

Yelena grins like a maniac. “Ohhhhh he is DOWN BAD.”

Bob closes his eyes briefly. “Please stop saying that.”

“You moved at speed of light,” John says. “That was insane.”

Alexei points proudly. “Power of romance!”

“It was a reflex,” Bob argues weakly.

You smile slightly. “That’s kinda sweet, actually.”

Bob looks at you. And once again ... Puppy eyes.

Ava physically throws her hands into the air. “I cannot keep watching this every day.”

But the real disaster happens two weeks later. At IKEA. Nobody knows how it happened. One minute the team is discussing tactical equipment. The next somehow everyone is wandering through IKEA on a “quick stop.”

Which is already dangerous.

Then John and Alexei discover the fake apartment displays. Which becomes catastrophic immediately.

“You two,” Yelena says suddenly, pointing at you and Bob. “Pretend to be a married couple.”

Bob nearly walks into a fake wall. “What?”

“Yes,” Alexei agrees enthusiastically. “Tiny domestic experiment.”

You’re already laughing, but Bob looks deeply suspicious. “This feels targeted.”

“It is,” Ava confirms.

Before Bob can escape, Yelena physically grabs your wrist and shoves you both into one of the fake living room setups. “Go go go.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Bob asks helplessly.

“Domestic activities.”

“That is not an activity.”

John immediately sprawls across the fake couch. “Oh my God, look. Bob already looks like he pays taxes.”

The team loses it instantly. Meanwhile Bob stands frozen in the middle of the staged living room while you laugh beside him.

Then you casually fix the collar of his jacket. A tiny gesture. Nothing dramatic. But Bob stills immediately. His eyes flick down to your hands and then back to your face.

And suddenly the teasing around you fades into background noise, because he’s looking at you again. Like that.

Soft, warm. Entirely gone for you.

Your expression melts a little too. “Your collar was weird,” you murmur quietly.

Bob smiles faintly. “Thank you.”

And unfortunately the team notices EVERYTHING.

Yelena screams from across the showroom: “THEY ARE FLIRTING IN SCANDINAVIAN LIVING SPACE.”

Bob physically folds in half from embarrassment. You laugh so hard you accidentally lean against him. And instinctively his arm wraps around your waist. Easy and protective like it belongs there. Natural such as breathing.

The whole team goes silent. Because for one tiny second, the joking fades. And they all see it.

How careful Bob is with you. How much calmer he looks around you. How you automatically lean into him like you trust him completely.

It’s sweet enough to hurt. Even Bucky softens slightly. Then Alexei ruins the moment instantly. “You should buy fake couch for kissing.”

The entire group erupts again.

Bob drops his forehead directly onto your shoulder in surrender while you laugh helplessly into his hair. And somewhere underneath all the chaos and teasing and ridiculousness, something warm settles quietly into Bob’s chest.

Because for the first time in a very long time, being loved doesn’t feel frightening.

_________________

Thank you so much for reading! All interactions are highly appreciated

BOB REYNOLDS MASTERLIST

[firelilyfox]

Is the Maze Runner fandom still alive and well? 💚

u there fam?

Still here and won’t ever leave

This fandom is a prison (still love it)

Who?

Voting ended onJun 4

and if you are still here … would you like some fanfictions?? (send me requests if you want)