Summary: Mornings had never been Steve’s thing. Unless he had somewhere he needed to be, he did not like being woken up. However, waking up to you first thing in the morning was definitely something that he wasn’t against.
Genre: Fluff.
Warnings: Very slight allusion to suggestive themes, nothing else otherwise.
Word count: 1.2k
A/N: Steve, my beloved. I love him so much. Here’s the first fic I wrote of him in forever. I’ll post the second one either tomorrow or Tuesday, and then it’s right back to your regularly scheduled Daryl content. (I feel like I should still point out that this does not mean that Steve is gonna become a part of the list of people I write for on a regular basis. After I post my second fic for him, I don’t know whether or not I’ll write for him again. Nothing is set in stone yet. I want to start writing for him again regularly. I really do, but I’m gonna have to do some real thinking on it.)
“Steve.”
A noncommittal grunt.
“Stevie…”
Another noncommittal grunt.
“Baby, you gotta wake up.”
“Uh-uh.”
You could not help the small laugh that escaped your chest at your boyfriend’s firm insistence to stay in the realm of slumber. Admittedly, you found the scene in front of you immensely adorable; Steve, on his stomach, his arms tucked around his pillow as if he were cuddling it, his hair a mess of loose strands and some curls, and his eyes shut tight as he attempted to fight off the thing that was trying to lull him out of the comforting depths of sleep.
Steve had never been one to wake up without a fight, not unless he knew he had somewhere important he needed to be. If not, one had a better chance using a tornado as an ice cream cone than rousing Steve Harrington from his slumber. He could be as stubborn as a mule under normal circumstances, but when he was asleep and comfortable and he did not want to wake up? Yeah, he was like an immovable boulder, but only way worse.
Luckily, you were well aware of how he was in that state, and your almost two years of being with him played to your advantage. You knew exactly how to wake him up.
With a practiced precession, you slowly moved towards him, slightly hovering over his exposed back. You carefully leaned down and pressed soft kisses from his upper back, onto his shoulder blade, up the back of his neck to the skin right below his earlobe, before moving your mouth up to whisper in his ear.
“Stevie,” you whispered in a sing-song tone of voice, giggling quietly when he groaned and pressed his face deeper into the pillow. “Baby, it’s time to wake up. It’s almost ten.”
“Go away,” Steve mumbled weakly, his voice muffled by the pillow.
You simply laughed at that. You could tell that Steve was not fully awake yet. If he was, he would never tell you to go away. He loved your mere presence more than anything else in the world. Well, not as much as he loved your touch, but it was right up there on the list.
“I made us breakfast,” you tried again, this time succeeding slightly. Steve turned his head, and you could see the way his already-closed eyes screwed tighter, a clear sign that he was desperately clinging onto the last remnants of his dreamland. However, with some more gentle urging, he would be fully awake soon enough.
You shifted your body so that you were instead seated on the bed instead of hovering over his body. You raised your hand and gently ran your fingers through his messy hair, attempting to tame the wildness you had come to love seeing in the mornings. “I made waffles. And poured you some orange juice. It’s waiting for you downstairs.”
Steve finally opened his eyes, clearly having lost the battle against consciousness. He blinked his eyes a couple of times, his beautiful amber irises adjusting to the light that was pouring in through the curtains. Once he could see clearly, he looked up and saw you, seated on top of his bed, smiling down at him with that beautiful smile of yours, looking absolutely radiant. And the fact that you were wearing nothing but your underwear and his shirt—that he had carelessly tossed aside the night prior due to it having been in the way of your activities—was an added bonus to the goddess-like view in front of him.
“G’mornin’, beautiful,” he greeted you with a small, lopsided smile, his gaze trailing over you appreciatively. Despite all the times he had woken up and saw you like that, he still acted like he was seeing it for the first time. His eyes trailed over the plush skin of your exposed thighs, up to the way his shirt hugged you, to the beautiful smile on your face.
Yeah, this was a sight he would forever appreciate, and would absolutely never take for granted.
“Good morning,” you replied with a light laugh, retracting your hand from his hair when he pushed himself to sit up. “Sleep okay?”
Steve nodded as he stretched his arms above his head to remove the kinks that had formed whilst he was asleep. “Yeah,” he confirmed with a yawn. “I always sleep better when you’re around.”
You smiled at him. “You’re a real charmer, Steve Harrington.”
“Thanks. I don’t even try,” he joked, laughing when you lightly shoved his shoulder. “What time is it?”
“Almost ten,” you repeated what you had told him earlier when he was still fighting to stay asleep.
Steve’s eyes widened at your words. “Shit, really?” He chuckled in disbelief when you nodded. “Wow. And you let me sleep that late?”
You shrugged nonchalantly. “It gave me the time to make us some breakfast without someone coaxing me out of the kitchen so that they can make breakfast instead,” you said, sending him a pointed look.
Steve chuckled and shrugged. “You can’t blame me for trynna take care of my girl.” He threw the bedcovers off of his body, his lower body covered with the boxers he had pulled on before going to bed the night before, but leaving his chest exposed for your view. He smirked slightly when he noticed the way your eyes trailed over his body this time. “See something you like?”
You scoffed and ducked your head shyly. “Shut up,” you mumbled, although there was no real heat behind your words.
Steve laughed and wrapped his arms around your midsection, pulling you into his body. You collided against his chest with a small ‘oof’, and your angelic laughter filled the air. It was a sound Steve loved immensely.
“Don’t go all shy on me now, Honey. I don’t blame you for appreciatin’ the view.” Steve chuckled fondly when you simply scoffed and buried your face into his chest. Opting to shift the subject instead of teasing you any further, he pressed a kiss on top of your head. “What did you make us for breakfast?”
“Waffles,” you began, once again repeating what you had already told him in his half awake state, “and I poured us some orange juice.”
“That sounds amazing,” he murmured into your hair. “Thank you, Sweetheart. You didn’t have to.”
“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to do it.” You pulled back and looked at him with a loving smile. “I love you, Stevie. Making breakfast is nothing. I do it for you because I want to.”
“I love you too,” Steve replied with a smile. He leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, purposefully avoiding your mouth until he had the chance to brush his teeth to rid himself of his morning breath. “Let’s go eat, yeah? Then we can do whatever you want to.”
“Even watch Footloose?” you asked hopefully, an excited glimmer in your eyes.
Steve chuckled and nodded. “Yes. Even watch Footloose.” His chuckle turned into a light laugh when you tugged his hand, urging him up from the bed.
Steve Harrington might not love waking up in the mornings when he did not need to, but he loved you, and that made it all worth it in the end.
hai!! I loveee your fics and I need some angst so I was wondering if you could do a steve harrington x reader where she has a fear of drowning and ends up almost drowning?? if not it’s fine thank you
thank you so much!
Drowning
Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
word count: 2712
warnings: canon typical violence, drowning (but no one dies)
12 Days of Christmas masterlist
main masterlist
Once again, Steve and Y/N were left holding the door as they watched Dustin run away. This time, however, he was running with Eddie, Max, and Robin, and they were in a familiar territory. This time, they would be able to get help quicker. They watched through the open windows of the boat house as their friends ran through the forest. Shivers ran through Y/N's body as she thought of the last time they had been in this position.
Only when the rest of the crew was out of sight did Y/N and Steve let go and back up. Jason Carver and the rest of the looney-bin basketball players crowded into the small shed, but the couple held their ground, turning back to back as the teenagers filled the space around them.
"King Steve," Jason started, and Y/N grabbed Steve's hand as she felt him tense. She wanted to stand up to Jason, but she knew it wasn't a good idea to leave their backs unguarded. Who knew what these freaks were planning. "And his little bitch."
"Funny of you to refer to yourself in the third person, Jason." Y/N started, taking a deep breath as Steve squeezed her hand. She wasn't even looking at the idiots in front of her, only taking in their stances, ready to pounce.
"Oh, you're not going to be smiling soon." Jason sneered out, cocking his head quickly before the boys were lunging. People were yelling at each other, and Y/N let go of Steve's hand to punch at the first man she could. She hit him good, but that was the only hit she was able to get in before someone grabbed her arm. She could hear Steve yelling at them, and she kicked out as someone grabbed her other arm.
"Get the fuck off me, you freaks!" She screamed, using all her energy to lash out. She was able to pull her arms from their grips, and got one more hit in before someone hit her twice as hard across the face. She let out a pained sound, and she heard Steve gasp.
"Get your hands off her!" He yelled, arms still held. He was able to free himself enough to elbow the idiot next to him, breaking his nose. He felt satisfaction as the dumbass let go of his arm, and he immediately pulled his arm back to punch. He knew eventually they would get back and hold him and probably beat him worse than the Russians, but as he heard Y/N cry out once more he hit the kid next to him so hard that he might have broken his knuckles.
"Oh, you're in for it, Harrington." He dodged a punch to the face but then got hit in the gut, doubling over and stumbling back into Y/N, who was now letting out a long scream. He heard the sick sound of fighting and sloppily went to hit again. Someone grabbed him once more, and then he was punched in the face, head falling as he was transported back to the Russians.
"I already told you!" He yelled, not noticing he was in the shed and not the basement laboratory. Y/N's head shot up as she stopped fighting, letting them hold her. She recognized the words, the ones that haunted her. She couldn't let Steve say that he worked at Scoops, if that's where he thought he was, because that would just make the situation worse.
"Steve!" She let them push her and Steve back to back, neither of them fighting. "Please, what do you want? Just let us go." She cried, watching Jason walk into view. She could feel her cheekbone swelling, and she could barely blink in her left eye.
"You helped kill Chrissy." Jason seethed, and Y/N just shook her head, slumping slighting and making the boys hold her up.
"No, we didn't. No one killed Chrissy," She muttered, blood pooling in her mouth. She must have cut the inside of her cheek.
"Eddie killed Chrissy," He spat out Eddie's name, and Y/N tilted her head and wished she could see Steve, who had gone quiet behind her. "And you helped him." She shook her head.
"No," But Jason wasn't listening.
"Admit it!" He screamed, causing Y/N to flinch back.
"We didn't do anything! Chrissy had been seeing things! She was going insane and you didn't even know." In hindsight, she shouldn't have said that. It's probably where shit hit the fan.
"You're going to die." Jason pointed a finger in her face, and she refused to let him see her lips tremble or her eyes water. She stared at him, straightening as much as she could with the pain she had. "You're going to die due to your worst fear." Jason was smiling, an evil, scary smile, and Y/N couldn't help the shudder that went through her.
"You don't know anything about us." She squinted, trying to feign confidence. She didn't know how or if Jason knew her worst fear, but she didn't want to find out.
"Your senior year, you won the essay contest for the scholarship." Jason leaned back, but the boys around him looked a little scared. She wanted to slap them, because they weren't the ones getting threatened with death.
"So you're obsessed with me?" Y/N cut him off, trying to stay in some semblance of power.
"Your essay was about your fear of drowning." Ice cold fear ran through Y/N's body and she couldn't hide it.
"Wait," Steve was suddenly back to the shed, his episode over for the moment.
"So, say 'hi' to the fishes for me." Jason winked, and she felt Steve press into her back more.
"What are you doing?" Steve was getting louder, and Y/N could feel him shuffling behind her.
"Stop, please, Jason!" She yelled as she felt her arms being tied to Steve. They were being tied back to back, and as much as they struggled there were multiple boys holding them, tying them as tight as they possibly could.
"You took Chrissy from me." Jason seethed, grabbing onto Y/N's arm as they were being pushed. There was a chest being shoved toward them, and then they were being thrown into it. "So I'm taking something back." The logic was flawed, and Y/N glared at Jason.
"You're done, Jason. Maybe not today, but it's coming. You kill us now, and you won't make it through the week." She knew Jason wouldn't understand it, but she was desperate.
"What do you have to say about this, King Steve?" Jason asked, and Y/N squeezed Steve's hands tight. They were squished in this chest, not even sure how they both fit.
"You've always been a shit player, Carver." Steve spit, and Jason just glared. "But you were such a shit boyfriend that Chrissy is gone now." That sealed their fate, Jason pushing the chest cover down with force.
"What are we gonna do?" Y/N whispered as they heard multiple of the basketball players pick up the chest.
"We're gonna get out." He told her, letting go of her hands and trying to pull his arms out of the rope. She moved around, hoping to make it harder for the guys to carry the chest, but the object finally fell with a thud, knocking the couple inside against each other.
"What's going on?" Y/N whispered, but the wood of the chest didn't allow her to see outside. The gaps were small enough that they could breathe, but that was it.
"We're on a boat," Steve muttered just as the engine kicked in. Y/N's heart raced, she literally felt her throat closing in fear.
"We have to get out of here." She began moving, pushing her feet against the side of the chest and pulling against their restraints. The ropes pulled against their skin, but the pain was nothing compared to the fear they were feeling.
"You can keep struggling, but the only way you're getting out of here is seeing God." Jason yelled to them, making the others on the boat laugh. They hadn't gone very far when the boat had stopped, and immediately they were being lifted up.
"See you in Hell!" Y/N screamed just as they were thrown. Her chest ached as they were submerged, the air immediately becoming moist as water filtered in. They were still back to back, now sitting because they had hit the bottom of the lake on the side that happened to be their feet.
"I'm close to getting the ropes off. I just," Steve was still moving, but Y/N was slumped against his back, all the fight gone from her. She watched the water fill the chest, and she knew they had seconds, minutes at most. It was already a foot tall, and soon it would be up to her mouth. Soon she wouldn't be able to breathe.
"Steve," She whispered, eyes falling closed in pain. She felt so helpless, so terrified.
"I've got it!" He slipped the ropes off of her hands and tried turning her around, but she was practically already dead. "Y/N," He started, and she slightly turned to him, struggling in the small space.
"I love you," She whispered, a hand moving to his cheek. Water was dripping on them, flooding up to their waists when they were on their knees.
"No, no, what are you doing?" He grabbed her wrists, bringing her back to look at her. She stared at his face, tears mixing with the water. He seemed desperate, not able to cry because this couldn't be the end. He had fought demogorgans before he had even graduated high school, had fought off a pack of demodogs to save a group of kids he had just met, had been beaten within an inch of his life by Russians.
He wasn't going to die due to a kid who pushed him overboard.
"I love you so, so much,"
"No, we've got to get out of here." He cried, moving around as he tried to find an opening. Everything he could see would just cause the cracks to let in more water, and he knew he couldn't break the wood or the chains in time. "We can, I know," She grabbed his arm and pulled him around, and he watched her looking at him in a way no one else had ever looked at him before. It made his heart ache and he wished they hadn't been so stupid.
"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I'm sorry I was so afraid. I love you. I love you, Steve Harrington." The water was pushing up, and as much as Steve was going to deny it, he knew just as much as she did what their fate was.
"It's okay," He whispered, pulling her body close. He was accepting it. "I love you too."
"I wish I told you!" She cried, not even caring that they were taking the air. They knew it was limited, but the water was going to kill them first. "It's so dumb." She was grabbing onto his wet shirt, head laying over his shoulder as his arms circled her to be close.
"It's okay," He whispered, the water now reaching their chests.
"Steve," She leaned back, hands moving back to his face. She stared at him, letting his hands grip her back. "I'm afraid," She admitted, eyes never leaving his.
"I'm right here." He pulled her as close as he could without breaking their eye contact. "I'm right here."
"Oh my God," The water was approaching their chins, and they pushed themselves up to give them more time. The air was getting thin, and her heart was racing. "We're not old enough! We're too young. Of everything we've done," She put their foreheads together, and Steve kissed her quickly and passionately until the water was at their chins once more.
"I love you," He said as she pushed her head against the side of the chest to get more time. He took a breath and then went under as she said it back.
This was it.
Y/N opened her eyes, knowing this water was gross but she wasn't going to make it anyway. She looked at Steve, who was looking at her. He grabbed her, wishing he could breathe air into her. He knew he could hold his breath for longer than she could, knew that he'd have to hold her while she convulsed.
His heart broke as he watched her let out some air slowly, like it scared her. She covered her mouth, and his face scrunched as he tried not to hiccup with the cries that were threatening to swallow him whole. So he pulled her, holding on as close as he could as his lungs burned and he hoped he would pass out. Her arms went around him, not as tight as he would have liked, and he wanted to scream when she began to go limp. He gives up then, because he doesn't want to hold onto Y/N while she convulses. He breathes out, and then forces himself to breathe in the water. It's harder than he thought it would be, and he doesn't get much in. But he can't hold his breath forever, and his vision starts to fade.
And then his arm was being dragged and he was pulled to the surface somehow.
He hadn't even noticed Eddie had opened the lock outside the chest, hadn't even noticed that him and Robin and Max and Dustin were carrying the couple up. All he could think about was breathing in fresh air. He coughed and threw up, Robin and Dustin holding onto his arms so he didn't drink the water in as he heaved. Robin had his chin in her hand, not even complaining about his puke as she made sure his chin didn't dip below the surface. He was helped into a small boat, and he only realized Y/N was in there with him when everyone started yelling.
"She's not breathing!" Robin was doing CPR as Eddie rowed, Dustin and Max swimming alongside.
"What?" Steve's brain felt waterlogged, his head heavy. The small rowing boat was shifting back and forth in the water as Robin tried her hardest to get Y/N to breathe. Steve realized he was draped over the front, in order to save space probably, as Y/N was taking up an entire row.
"We can't stop to get in the boat to help!" Max yelled, gasping as she pushed herself.
"We have to go call someone!" Dustin swam faster, pulling ahead of the boat. Robin was still rocking the boat as she pushed on Y/N's chest, and Steve wasn't fully conscious.
"Row faster!" Robin screamed.
"I'm trying!" Eddie yelled back, eyes focused on the shore that was steadily getting closer.
"Oh my God!" Robin jerked back as Y/N sputtered water out, then turned and fell off the bench as coughed and heaved, shaking.
"Y/N?" Steve tried to move back, but he was still out of it and ended up pitching forward, rocking the boat even worse. Robin falls over the edge, but luckily they're right next to the shore and she lands with her hands in the mud.
"Fuck," Y/N rasps, throwing up in the boat again. Eddie doesn't even groan, he's too busy helping Steve up.
"Come on, big guy." He groans, pulling Steve onto the grassy area and crouches to make sure he's okay. Steve's eyes are closed, but he's making small noises of pain and rolling around a little, clearly in pain. Eddie has no idea what to do.
"Y/N? How're you feeling?" Robin asks quietly, helping Y/N sit up in the boat. "Are you okay?"
"Where's Steve?" She asks, breathing heavily and looking around.
"He's over there, it's okay." Robin can barely get the words out before Y/N is up, tripping over the boat but catching herself on shaky hands and crawling to Steve.
"Steve?" She mutters, watching his eyes open.
"Baby," He whispers, energy back and causing him to sit up and grab Y/N tight. He kisses the side of her head, because she won't let go of him enough for him to actually kiss her.
"I love you," She tells him, and he can tell she's crying. He rubs her back, leaning away to reach her lips.
I’m never gonna love again (Steve Harrington x female!reader, based off this request, 1.2k 🩶 p.s I hope this is okay, if you meant something else, let me know <3)
It was way too late for the party to still be going and yet, Steve was still there, sitting on his best friend’s sofa with something that was making his throat start to burn in his hand. Most people had filtered out by now and honestly he had planned to go too but there was a pretty girl talking to him and where else did he have to be?
He rested further back into the cushions, letting the girl beside him keep telling him about something he had admittedly lost track of. He nodded his head like he hadn’t anyway, to be polite. Maybe she would just want to kiss him in a while so he wouldn’t have to feel bad for not listening. He dragged his eyes to her lips, hoping she’d get the hint.
Steve sat there for a little while longer, never kissing anyone. He went to but just behind him was a picture of his friend and his family. And she was right there in the middle. He leaned back into the sofa, talking it was then.
Just an half an hour later, she stepped out of her bedroom door, a little sleepy, presuming the party was over and there would be no one lurking out in the hall. It felt much colder out here so she wrapped her arms around herself, hoping that some stranger hadn’t opened all the windows. Or god forbid, forgotten to shut the front door when they left.
She glanced down the stairs, there were a few people still sitting in the living room, talking quietly and smiling at eachother. It actually looked rather peaceful compared to just a few hours ago when she peered out. There was no way she was going to join them whether the party had slowed down or not, she didn’t know a single soul other than her brother and Steve Harrington. But he didn’t count. (Plus she was still in her slippers.)
She turned around, deciding it was probably a good time to try and get some sleep now the music was off. She felt a slight sudden sting in her arm as she walked right into someone. Someone tall. Someone- Oh. Steve.
“What are you doing?” He looked her up and down like the hallway of her own house was the last place he would expect to fund her. But really, Steve had just thought she wasn’t home, he hadn’t seen her all night, so crashing into her when the night was basically over was a bit of a shock.
“I live here.” She said, furrowing her brows in the least sarcastic way possible. His question had just thrown her, and his presence.
Steve was normally ‘busy’ at these kinds of things, or anywhere really, with girls who hung on his every word and laughed at all his jokes. It was fascinating to watch at first, to see how he barely flirted and shifted his gaze and yet always got the girl he wanted. But over the years she had got a little less fascinated and a little more sad watching him. For reasons she would rather keep to herself.
“I know that.” He laughed under his breath and she felt it right in her rib cage. Why did he have to laugh like that? “I meant I didn’t think you were here tonight? You never came down.” His eyes softened a little, like the more ‘himself’’ he was being, the more his gaze relaxed.
“I didn’t feel up to it.”
Steve screwed up his nose. More worry washing over him then there should have been. Especially for a girl, for his best friend's sister, but he couldn't help it. ‘Didn't feel up to it’ could mean a myriad of things but Steve's mind went straight to something being wrong.
“Are you sick?” He stepped closer, looking her up and down for signs of a cold or something. Long forgetting that getting closer to her meant risking himself getting sick, that just didn’t seem to matter so much.
“No.” She shook her head, not being able to hide the smile on her face from the look on his.
His shoulders relaxed now he knew she was fine and possibly finding slight enjoyment from his panic. She just couldn’t help it, she had known Steve for a while now, and even before that his reputation preceded him, so when all that faded away and he was just him. Dropping his grin as concern took over him, she couldn’t do anything but smile.
Steve tilted his head to the side, poking his tongue against his cheek. “So you’re not sick, but you’ve been in your room all night instead of coming down to say hi to me?” He pointed to himself, emphasising the me?. “It’s starting to worry me that you don't like me anymore.”
“Everyone likes you Steve.” She said softly, glancing at the floor. The carpet was suddenly extremely interesting. She was hoping that it was obvious enough that she was including herself
It felt a little strange to stand in front of Steve and admit to still liking him, even in this harmless platonic way. She wasn’t sure why because when she thought about it she was sure she liked him much better than all her brother's other friends. She talked to him so much more then she did with them, but then maybe that was because Steve was just easy to talk to.
“Really?” His smirk softened into a smile and if she had to pick she liked that kind of a smile best on him. He fitted being a bit softer. She wondered if he knew that. “Promise?” He asked, brushing the back of his hand against hers, it couldn’t be called a ‘tap’ he lingered too long for that.
“I promise.”
If he kept her trapped in the hallway much longer she was going to end up falling in love with him, just the way he was looking at her alone was concerning. But surely this was the natural end to their conversation, surely he’d go home now or at least back downstairs. She glanced at her door, wondering if he would get the hint.
“I should let you go to bed, shouldn’t I?” Steve didn’t want to stop talking to her, he wanted to press her a little more about how much ‘everyone’ liked him but she was standing there pulling at a loose thread on her sleeve and looking around so much that he had to let her go. He could tease her another time.
She didn’t answer but he slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans anyway and headed towards the stairs. He spun around, walking backwards down her hallway. “Meet you here next time?” He asked casually, like they were out at some bar or restaurant, not just outside her bedroom.
“What?” She asked, slightly confused all the while still softly smiling like a foolish girl talking to her crush. Oh no.
Steve laughed under his breath before disappearing down the stairs, she heard his shoes on each step, three down she heard his voice. “Night.”
|| ao3 || kinda based on "say don't go" by taylor swift ||
summary: Steve is in love with his best friend. But she's under Vecna's curse, and is risking her life, playing bait in hopes that the others can kill Vecna. (wc: 1,051)
warnings: reader gets in a coma
“No, no. You’re not risking your life for this. I’m not letting you do that, end of discussion.” Oh, he was mad-mad.
“Steve, just listen,” you tried to reason, but he wasn’t having it.
“It’s not happening,” he said, glaring at you. You had wanted to use yourself as bait to distract Vecna, giving everyone else time to kill him once and for all. “He’s already cursed me, might as well make him regret it, right?” That was what you reasoned. But Steve, your best friend of eight years, refused.
“If I don’t do it, Max is gonna get the idea and try to do it herself. I’d rather it be me than her,” you whispered, as he sighed. He hated it. Hated that you were right, and that Vecna was targeting you. But he knew you’d all find some way to go behind his back and let yourself be live bait for Vecna, no matter how much he refused. Oh, how he wished he could kill that beast right there, right now.
“If you die,” he whispered back, eyes slightly narrowing down at you, “I’m gonna make the scientists at the lab bring you back to life so I can kill you myself.”
“You’ve always been so supportive of me, Steve,” you reply, squeezing his arm. He wished you hadn’t done that. Sign up to be bait and squeeze his arm. Because finally, after eight years, Steve was starting to realize that the reason none of the dates he went on ever worked out, was because of you. Not you directly, you weren’t sabotaging his dates or anything, but because he realized he had feelings for you. He had feelings for his best friend. And now, she was going to go get herself killed trying to play hero—just his luck.
***
As much as Steve hated that you were distracting Vecna so everyone could kill him, he hated the fact that he wouldn’t be able to be there with you even more. That he had to trust Max, Lucas, and Erica to keep you safe. Maybe it was better that way, so if things went wrong, he wouldn’t be able to blame himself. No, he can’t think like that. Nothing will go wrong. He had to believe that, for his own sanity.
“I should be there with her to keep her safe!” He had argued to Nancy and Robin, the pair of girls rolling their eyes.
“You said you were sick of sitting on the sidelines,” Nancy reasoned as Robin muttered something about how “nothing makes Steve happy and he should grow a pair and finally ask the girl out.” Steve just rolled his eyes, pretending he hadn’t heard her. Cause yeah, he should have asked you out a long time ago. He was always just too chicken to do so. Maybe then you’d be his, because he already knew that he was all yours.
***
“Stay safe, please.” He whispered as you said your goodbyes, placing a hand on your cheek. “I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t,” you whispered back, putting a hand over his, lightly squeezing it. “But I need you to trust me.”
“Of course I trust you,” he replied, dropping his hand. “You’re my best friend,” he needed to remind himself that. That asmuch as being with you felt like time stopped, you were still just his best friend. Whether he liked it or not.
“Best friend,” you reply with a small nod. Because that’s all the two of you were, right? Despite the stolen glances you thought you saw, the hand on your cheek, the flirting that seemed to cross the line of friendship, you two were still just friends. He practically just confirmed it. Whether you liked it or not.
***
Steve was freaking out when he heard the news. “What do you mean Vecna got to her?” He practically yelled, trying to hold back tears. Please, not her. Please, let her be okay.
“She was still kinda conscious when the paramedics got her, she might still be okay!” Max tried to tell him, but he was barely registering anything the girl was telling him. Conscious. Paramedics. She, okay.
“I’m going to the hospital,” he muttered, already halfway out the door. You had to be okay, not just because Steve liked you like that, but because you were his best friend. For eight fucking years. He couldn’t lose you. Yes, he loved you like that, but he still couldn’t lose his best friend. His rock, one of the few constants in his life, the girl that made him feel like everything would be okay. What if he never got to hear your laugh again? Or hear your stupid jokes or watch your stupid movies with you again? What if he never got to see those pretty eyes again? He just couldn’t handle the thought, he felt like he was going mad. Please let her be okay.
***
He felt like screaming when he saw you in the hospital. The doctors told him you were in a coma, but were unaware of when you’d wake. The silence in the room was deafening. What if he couldn’t see you for years? Years until he saw those eyes roll in feign annoyance or heard that laugh at his stupidly unfunny jokes? He couldn’t help but pace the floor, raking his hand through his hair. It just isn’t fair. You didn’t deserve this, you deserved better. He really wishes he fought harder to not let you use yourself as bait for Vecna. Maybe then, you’d still be okay.
He sat in the chair nearest to you, taking your hand in his as he looked over at you. Wishing for a way to make you wake up. He’d stay there next to you for as long as he could until you woke up, though. Even if it was forever. He knew you wouldn’t want him to go. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. I’m staying with here, with her, he decided.
“I love you” he whispered. Squeezing your hand with a sigh when you say nothing back. The only other sound in the room coming from the steady beat of the heart monitor. “How about I take you out on a real date when we get out of this, yeah?” Silence.
modern!steve only ever posts his girl, or about his girl, she's all over his instagram and it's very obvious to anyone that comes across his social media that he's obsessed with his girlfriend, he knows one too many taylor swift songs, he really likes lover and 1989 better then the rest, he doesn't know why, they're just his favourites, his girl's a swiftie so of course he ended up at the eras tour, he loves 80's romcoms, even the really bad ones that have aged terribly, he likes getting cosy in bed with his girl and watching them on his laptop, he doesn't mind going out for the night but he does like the nights he spends in, ordering food and wearing something comfy, his girl likes those nights too, she says he looks 'like a boyfriend', he has to remind her that he is a boyfriend, hers in fact <3
okay steve definitely wouldn’t care about body hair, but i just know that man goes feral over your freshly shaved, smoooooth legs
i took this to make him a sillay boyfriend 🫶 sorry if u wanted HAWTNESS this is just silly LUV…. forgive me
The sheets feel cool against your bare legs.
You can feel the scratch of your hair tucked against your neck but you’re too content, all but sinking into the mattress, to be bothered to move it. Your legs are tucked up, your arms splayed wide across the bed. You’ve just done the hard job of an everything-shower and lying down is your well-earned reward.
Across the room, Steve pulls the curtains to cover the window. Shadow falls across the room, banished after a moment when Steve pads to the bed, turning on the lamp. Amber coats the ceiling.
It’s balmy tonight. You feel warm without even being under the covers. Dozing off sounds like a pretty amazing idea right now.
“Not falling asleep with me, are ya?”
You smile at the sound of Steve’s voice, lifting your heavy eyelids to gaze at him.
He looks scruffy the same way he always does at the end of the day. His hair has lost some of its magnificent volume and he’s wearing a ratty old t-shirt from high school. You can see the beginnings of his five o’clock shadow on his jawline. He’s gorgeous.
And you’re the only one who gets to see him like this. The thought makes you smile wider.
“Mm,” you hum, definitely giving away your sleepiness. “Nope.”
A warm hand touches your knee, Steve’s hand reaching out and rubbing it tenderly. He tsks playfully. “You’re not fooling anyone, baby.”
You huff a quiet laugh and let your eyes fall back closed. Steve’s touch has always had a magnetic property, drawn to you whenever he’s near. It has a similar effect on your heart, which always feels like it’s surging forward in your chest to reach him.
The touch shifts, skimming down your shinbone. You expect him to maybe begin a half-hearted massage on your calves— he’s prone to giving them to you— but then, unexpectedly there’s another touch added to your legs.
You lift your head, peering down at him with squinted eyes. He’s crouched down beside the bed and he’s rubbing his cheek against the smooth skin of your legs.
When he knows he’s been spotted, he only grins, shifting his cheek again. “You’re so… smooooth.”
There’s definitely awe in his voice. You laugh, a real laugh this time, and shake your head. You should really stop being surprised when Steve’s a dork — he’s proven to be one time and time again. If you didn’t know different, you might assume this was his first ever relationship.
“Mhmm,” You hum. “That’s part of the appeal, handsome.”
Something glitters in Steve’s eyes at your pet name for him and his grin melts into something softer. His hand on your shin moves again, stroking softly up your calf. His face shows his bewilderment at your supremely smooth skin— and then betrays the look of mischief that crosses his face.
Your brows furrow instinctively. “Steve—” You warn.
He does it anyway, turning and licking one big stroke up your knee. You squeal, surprised at the sensation, and jerk your leg away from him.
“Steve!”
“What!” He mimics your tone, finally getting up onto the bed and crawling up to meet you. He’s smirking, looking terribly proud of himself. He plops himself down, half of his weight pressing into your shoulder as he nuzzles himself into your neck.
“S’just wanna a little taste, that a crime?”
His breath is hot and almost tickles against your neck. It’s impossible not to dissolve into quiet giggles, leaning into him. He snakes an arm around your waist, pulling the two of you closer.
“You’re a dork.”
You can feel the little puff of air he lets out in a laugh as well as the smile that spreads on his mouth. He pokes his tongue out, a minuscule touch against your neck that has you shrieking again— except this time, Steve’s holding you too tight to squirm away.
“Mmhm,” He says. “Your dork.”
You grin, turning to nose against his temple and make a noise of agreement. “Absolutely.”
hi again!! i saw you mention wanting to write for prince!steve, and i also saw that you write with dialogue prompts so i present to you:
A: “I’ll take care of you.”
B: “It’s rotten work.”
A: “Not to me. Not if it’s you.”
maybe the reader gets injured doing something for training, but it’s all up to you!! i’m sure we’ll love it regardless. kisses!!
thank you for requesting! —prince steve au. fem, 1.5k
Pain was familiar before you came to the palace. Small pains and big, all kinds of hurting, poverty-driven neglect leading to toothaches and back pain, twisted ankles walked on without choice, sore skin otherwise ignored. It didn’t matter if you got hurt as long as you lived.
Not in a dramatic sense. It didn’t feel dramatic at the time, only miserable. You go to work with a migraine because you can’t afford not to. You walk home in the dark because the mag-trams are getting too expensive. You break your holo, so you make do without one. You pick your head up to keep looking both ways and you get everywhere you need to go because you need to work, to get paid, to eat, to work.
That’s how it always was. So getting sick didn’t matter. An injury was temporary pain that your body would fix eventually, and if it didn’t, well, it’s cheaper to pull a tooth than pay to have it filled.
You were used to your sorry life, and then you met Steve. Tall, brown-haired, brown-eyed Steve. Looking at him sometimes is enough to make your whole body a void for things you used to complain about; you wake up across from him in the big bed and forget you can feel pain at all, if only because he’s already awake, waiting for you to open your eyes before he rests his hand on your cheek. You met him and your soul-mark glowed with a lacy, almost feathered light, your wrist braceleted with white colour that soon faded to mellow blue.
When you first meet your soulmate, the colours you make tend to shift. It takes time for your heart to decide if love is pink or orange or blue. It seems to have settled now —when Steve kisses you, your mark turns a Gaussian amber. When you kiss back, his mark turns light pink, like the lotus flowers he keeps in his private gardens.
Right now, your mark hums an angry red. It’s typical in its colour, and it’s common. Most people’s marks turn red when they’re hurting. Yours is a crimson so dark it looks black in the dim lighting, and it throbs in time with your pain like a vexing metronome. You’ll never be able to put it from your mind if the mark continues to remind you.
Steve is uncharacteristically quiet at your side. His own mark is lit in sympathy, mostly pink with his affection, but threaded in red like spider lily flowers blooming against his forearm.
He shifts beside you. It’s been more than a month since your wedding, and yet he’s careful with you. Almost shy, though he can be brash and cocky. You know intimately how sweet Steve can be when he’s in love.
It doesn’t make any sense.
“How’s the pain now?” he asks, his eyebrows pulled together at their starts.
“Not so bad.”
“Could you rate it on a scale? If zero was no pain at all, and ten were enough to warrant another dose of white willow bark?”
“What if I were at a five?” you ask.
“A half dose and a good kiss?”
You turn his way but flinch when it puts undue pressure on your leg, a stab of hot pain jumping from your fractured tibia to deep inside of your hips. Steve sees your wincing and presses your shoulder into the bed, leaning over you, a scolding he doesn’t give in the pinch of his eyebrows as he leans down to kiss you. It’s more caress than kiss, his hand cupping your cheek, his lips barely touching yours before he rests his nose at your brow. “Can you stay still?” he asks.
“Sorry.”
“Just don’t want you to hurt yourself again.”
He lifts his head. Holds your cheek for longer than you can work out why, dotting another soft kiss to your nose before slinking out of bed to find you some white willow bark tincture. It’s a potent pain reliever. You shouldn’t have too much of it. If you were still living your past life, you’d be chewing on ginger skins trying to limp your way back into work. There’d be no time to stop.
“Steve,” you say, watching him a small ways away at the table of your quarters. He turns to you. “I don’t really need anything else.”
“You said it’s hurting?” Steve pipettes the tincture into a cup of water. “You said a five, and you lie. Knowing you, it’s closer to an eight, you just don’t want to tell me.”
It might not be as extreme as an eight now, laying down and bandaged, but it hurts badly and a tincture would solve this. Still, you say, “It’s fine, I don’t need it.”
He brings the glass regardless and puts it on the nightstand. Your bed is yards too big for one person, even two, but when Steve sits next to you he leaves no room between you. He looks down at you fondly. Brown hair like down feather falls against his forehead.
“You’re going to be in pain for a long time.” He brings a hand to your cheek again. “It might sound tame, a plateau fracture, but that’s still a fracture. You know doctors say fracture when they mean broken, right? You broke your leg. It’s okay to want pain relief.”
“I knew that. I didn’t know you knew it.”
“Impolite.” He ducks down to look you in the eyes. You’re a little skewiff, straight to his sideways, but it gets a point across. He wants to kiss you while you’ve said something maddening. “I don’t see why you’re so insistent on pretending it hasn’t happened and that you’re fine. You got hurt, and you’ll stay hurt for a while. It might be weeks of bed and– and you need to be looked after. I don’t know why you’re so guilty about it.”
“I’m not guilty,” you deny guilty, turning your face to lean into his hand, rather than continue to face his imploring gaze. “I just… I’m not used to this. Before, if something went wrong, I couldn’t just lay down and wait to get better, and I surely wouldn’t be laying here with doctors and servants and the ladies in waiting all trying to make sure– It’s like it’s not my fault, and that doesn’t make any sense. I don’t want to be a burden on everyone. More than I already am,” you add, a bitter mumble nearly lost to his palm.
He makes a promise, then, turning your face to the light. “I’ll take care of you,” he says.
“It’s rotten work.”
Steve shakes his head gently. “Not to me. Not if it’s you.”
You press your tongue to your teeth, worried you’ll say something you’ll regret. You don’t want him to go. You want him to mean exactly what he says, to stay here and take care of you, and to enjoy doing it. Wouldn’t it be nice to be loved for love's sake?
Steve shuffles inward and encourages your head into his lap, thrusting pillows aside to take up station against your headboard. He frames your face, upside down, before both hands begin to run down your arms. A hug, in a way, as he twists his face to kiss the skin beside your eye. You squint at the proximity.
“You’re not a burden,” he says, hands climbing upwards now, warm and steady where they travel, “you’re my wife. My cherished wife, remember?”
His tone is silk.
“You… haven’t proved to be a wretched husband,” you confess.
“I did try. But loving you has been easy. It makes husbandry a gift.” He laughs at his grandiose and gives you a kiss that’s more familiar by your ear, his pleading, searching kisses, the kind he likes to press to all your softest junctures. “I wish you could understand that we’re marked for a reason. We were always meant to be together, and I couldn’t have asked for a better person to stand with me. I’m happy you’re here. I want to take care of you.”
Not if it’s you, he’d said.
You wonder if it might be okay to cry. He’s massaging your arms, still bent in half over you trying to kiss some belief in him into your forehead.
“It’ll be okay,” he murmurs between chaste, silent kisses, “really. You don’t have to pretend things don’t hurt you anymore.”
You feel strange, then, shivery and weak as you turn your face into his thigh. His hand slips behind your back to hold you.
“Can I convince you to drink this tincture now?” he asks, just above your ear.
“I love you,” you mumble.
He pauses his trailing hands. You squeeze your eyes closed, but he doesn’t pause for long enough to scare you. “I love you,” he says. “Since the day we met, I’ve loved you. I’ll take care of you.”
steve taking care of you when you're hurt, refusing to let you move around too much, being there for constant cuddles and to run to the kitchen to get you something, he's very dizzy to spend all day watching movies with you, tracing his fingers up and down your arms, careful not to touch you too hard and hurt you even more, but he hates that you're in pain, no matter how little or how much, he treats you the same, with extra love and care, with forehead kisses and little muttered I love you's, he likes being taken care of, he won't lie about that but looking after you makes him feel more like your boyfriend then ever, you're his to worry about, you're his to fuss over, and he does love to fuss over you <3
steve likes peppermints, he likes the little red and white ones in wrappers that fit into his pocket, he likes how they make him think of christmas and of kissing you, you always taste like peppermint, and if he's missing you, you'll find him buying a whole bag of those mints, he won't tell you why, not at first, he feels stupid, attaching something like that to you, but then one day he just tells you, he tells you everything he's attached onto your person and he confesses that if you ever break up with him (which is not going to happen) he won't ever be able to enjoy a peppermint again <3
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 2.7k words
warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, jealous!reader, a bit of angst, fluff
summary: in which you don’t expect to feel so bothered seeing steve talk to another girl, but you do
author's note: this was unfinished for months and i finally felt inspired to actually finish it thank god. i'm trying to slowly get back into writing stuff for this series so enjoy this for now<333
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Summer 1986
When you first heard about the party, you didn’t think too much about it because your Friday night plans were already settled. A simple movie night in your living room with Steve featuring some of the new arrivals that had just gotten to Family Video. However, you still nodded and said a quick, “Maybe I’ll check it out” to your college friend when she told you about her party and you got the address from her too out of niceness.
It wasn’t until you half-mentioned the party to Robin as you picked through the new arrivals cart during the final hour of her and Steve’s shift that going actually became a possibility.
“Wait, what? A party at a lake house sounds perfect. We have to go.”
Steve was quick to look up from the computer and shake his head at her words. “No way. We already have plans for the night, Robs.”
The eye roll he received in response was immediate. “You two can waste away on the couch any night you want. Tonight we should go to a party.”
You considered her words and nodded after a second. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Thank you,” She smiled at you before looking back at Steve. “And you need to remember that I’m only gonna be here for a few more weeks, so we need to do as much stupid shit as we can while I am still here.”
You playfully rolled your eyes at her words. “Okay, you can’t keep using the college card like it’s an ‘I only have two weeks left to live’ card.”
“I second that,” Steve agreed. “Also, you keep making it seem like you’re going thousands of miles away. You’re only gonna be an hour away from here.”
“Yeah, well, still, things are changing,” She told you both. “And I wanna have fun before I leave.”
Fun ended up being an understatement.
Barely an hour into the party she was drunk due to one too many cupfuls of whatever punch concoction had been thrown together and put in a big bowl in the kitchen. You and Steve shared one cup of the weirdly sweet drink and then decided to simply settle into the role of babysitting Robin.
You both were currently lingering by a wall and watching as Robin danced with all of the other people crowded in the living room; you vaguely recognized the ABBA song playing. You made a mental note to tell her no if she came running over to you and Steve and proposed the idea of getting another drink.
“This is your fault, you know,” Steve told you, leaning into your ear to be heard over the music. “If you didn’t mention the party to her earlier, you and I would be on the couch watching a movie and eating takeout from Third Street.”
You gave him a sad look coupled with a pouty lip and he immediately felt bad, taking your look to heart. He quickly leaned in to apologetically kiss you.
“Sorry,” He mumbled against your lips.
You were smiling as he pulled away. “You’re too easy.”
He immediately rolled his eyes at you and playfully poked your side, which made you laugh. “And you’re very evil.”
“Sorry, I had to,” You said and initiated the quick kiss that time around. “Anyway, yes, I know this is my fault and I’d kill to have Third Street right now, but look how happy she is.” You gestured in the direction of where Robin was in the packed living room, dancing with all of the other people who you were convinced were at least half-drunk, but you now couldn’t see her. “Wait, shit, where did she go?”
Steve looked around for a second too and then let out a sigh when he also couldn’t spot her. Maybe you two weren’t the best babysitters after all.
“Okay, I’ll check upstairs and you look around down here,” You said to him. “Oh, and maybe grab some water too. She’ll probably need it sooner rather than later.”
Steve gave you a quick nod. “Okay.”
You checked every room upstairs and instead of finding Robin you accidentally interrupted one too many couples making out. After quickly peeking into the last room and mumbling out another “Oops, sorry,” you headed back down the stairs, hoping Steve had better luck than you. You noticed him in the kitchen, two water bottles in hand, and talking to someone who wasn’t Robin but you immediately recognized.
Vanessa. A girl who was in one of your classes last semester and had gone on a handful of dates with Steve at the end of last year.
It was hard to decipher what they were talking about right then, but Steve had a small smile on his face and so did she.
You couldn’t recognize why— or maybe you just refused to admit it right then— but you felt the sudden urge to insert yourself into the conversation; sidle up next to Steve, grab his hand and wrap his arm around you, kiss his cheek or simply plant one on his mouth. Essentially mark your territory for everyone, especially Vanessa, to see. But, you were way too sober to actually consider doing any of that, so you instead looked away from him and went back to searching for Robin.
You found her moments later, sitting on the chair swing on the front porch of the house.
“Hey, Robs, what are you doing out here?” You asked softly as you sat down next to her, trying not to move the swing too much but that proved to be a lot harder than you thought.
Robin didn’t seem to mind, though. Her eyes were closed as she shrugged at your question. “Just wanted some fresh air.”
“Makes sense,” You nodded. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” Her eyes stayed shut as she answered you. “Sleepy, but at the same time I kinda wanna get another drink and dance some more.”
“I’ll allow the dancing, but I need to be a good babysitter right now and say no more drinking.”
She gave you a quick nod. “The logical side of me knows you’re right.”
Things got quiet for a second and in that moment of quiet you thought about Steve and Vanessa in the kitchen. It seemed as if all your brain wanted to do right then was play that moment on repeat. You could inwardly admit that the conversation had looked completely innocent and probably quite literally meant nothing, but for some reason, it still bothered you.
“A part of me wishes I got drunk with you,” You said to Robin with a sigh and leaned back into the chair.
She smiled at that and looked at you. “You definitely still can.”
Before you could answer, you heard the front door open and subsequently close, and then Steve’s voice filled the brief quiet. “Good. You found her.”
He handed one of the water bottles he was holding over to you. “I grabbed one for you too.”
He the. placed the other bottle in Robin’s lap and she gave him a small smile. “Thanks, dingus.”
If the circumstances were different and your thoughts weren’t confused and scattered, you would’ve shifted over a bit and made room for Steve on the small chair swing, and a random conversation would’ve played out for the next few minutes before you or he suggested leaving. But things weren’t different, so you didn’t.
Steve didn’t think too much of it, though. Instead, he simply asked, “Should we head out?”
You nodded, finally meeting his eyes. “Yeah.”
He looked at Robin. “We’re taking you to our place, right?”
“Yes, please,” She answered, smiling. “You guys are great babysitters.”
She shut her eyes again and Steve looked at you, giving you a smile and you were quick to force one back. It was then that you could tell that he knew something was up with you because of the look he gave you in response to your forced smile, but he didn’t get to ask you what was going on because Robin was abruptly standing up and asking which way the car was.
It wasn’t until you all were finally in Steve’s car and driving away from the party— Robin fell asleep in the backseat almost immediately— that he finally asked.
“What’s wrong?”
You let the question linger in the air for a bit— keeping your eyes focused out the window and letting your fingers mindlessly fiddle with the zipper of your jacket— before you answered him.
“I don’t know…” You mumbled with a shrug and then you sighed and shook your head. “Actually, I do know, but it’s dumb. It’s stupid.”
His right hand moved off of the steering wheel and found one of yours. “You can tell me.”
You knew he was right, but that didn’t make being a thousand percent honest feel any easier in this moment.
“Vanessa was at the party,” You ultimately said, figuring that would be the easiest way to start the conversation.
Steve nodded. “Yeah, we talked for a second.”
“Yeah, I saw,” You said and wanted to end the conversation there, but you knew that you couldn’t. “It kinda annoyed me a bit.”
“What do you mean?” Steve asked, taking a quick look at you.
“I don’t know…” You sighed again. “Just seeing you guys talking was a little annoying, I guess.”
Things got quiet for a second, and that managed to make you get even more inside your head. Maybe Steve thought you were insane or he was even mad at you for feeling this way. This was entirely unchartered territory between you two, so you weren’t entirely sure what his reaction would be.
“Oh,” Steve said as if he was realizing something and then smiled a bit. “You were jealous.”
You immediately rolled your eyes. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
You used your free hand to gesture to his face. “With that smile on your face.”
“I think it’s cute that you were jealous,” He told you, pulling your intertwined hands up to his lips so that he could kiss the back of yours.
You shook your head. “No, it’s not.”
“It really is,” Steve said and you decided not to protest him that time around, looking out the window again.
“I love you, by the way,” He continued. “Just in case you forgot.”
That managed to finally get a smile out of you.
“I did forget, actually. Thank you for the reminder,” You joked and then turned to look at him. “I love you too.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Guiding a half-awake Robin from the car to your and Steve’s apartment was a feat in itself, but it somehow worked out. You two helped Robin into your bed instead of letting her take the couch and then you set a glass of water and ibuprofen on the nightstand because you had a feeling she’d need it in the morning.
You changed into your pajamas in Steve’s room, which simply consisted of a t-shirt that you had long ago stolen from Steve and a pair of shorts, and then both you and him settled into his bed.
He had fallen asleep pretty quickly and you thought, or more so hoped, that you would find sleep easily too, but instead, you tossed and turned in bed because you couldn’t seem to shut off your mind. You weren’t entirely sure why you were still feeling a little sulky and weird about everything— Steve didn’t care and he wasn’t upset with you for feeling jealous— but there was something still nagging at the back of your head about the whole thing.
“I know what you’re thinking right now,” You heard Steve sleepily mumble after what felt like an hour of you trying but failing to force yourself to sleep but it was probably only twenty minutes. His arm circled around your waist and he pulled you back against him. “And you should stop it.”
The fact that he could easily read your mind wasn’t surprising and it was probably the only thing that made you feel a little bit okay and made you want to at least attempt to verbalize the thoughts that had been running through your head.
“I just hate being like this. It feels so— I don’t know…” You were then squeezing your eyes shut and pressing your face into the pillow as you admitted, “When I saw you and her talking I really wanted to just go up and kiss you in front of her, so that she knew that we’re together and you’re mine.”
“Mm, you should’ve done that,” He mumbled into your neck. “That would’ve been really hot.”
You finally turned on your side to face him. “Shut up. I don’t know why I just admitted that, honestly. I told you this was stupid.”
“Don't feel embarrassed about it,” He said, somehow managing to sum it all up perfectly; you were feeling embarrassed. “This happens to me all the time.”
You laughed a little. “You don’t have to lie to try and make me feel better about how dumb I'm being.”
“I’m serious,” He told you. “Remember last Thursday when you came to Family Video during the last hour of mine and Robin’s shift?”
When you gave him a quick nod in response, he continued. “I was so annoyed watching you talk to that one guy.”
At first, you weren’t sure what guy he was talking about, but then it hit you. It had been the all too familiar situation where someone thought that you also worked at the store because you were the only one standing behind the counter since both Robin and Steve were stocking shelves. But even after you told this guy that you actually didn’t work there, he kept the conversation going and you laughed and smiled along for a bit to be nice before making up some excuse and retreating to the break room for the rest of Steve and Robin’s shift.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You didn’t seem annoyed at all, and we didn’t even talk about it.”
“Yeah, because for like two minutes I felt jealous, but then I remembered that I’m the one you’re with and nothing could change that— especially not some random blonde guy— so…” Steve trailed off with a shrug and smile.
As if flicking a light switch, his words changed everything for you. Once again, he was right; there was nothing that could change what you two had.
“And just so you know,” He continued, voice soft and quiet. “I always feel embarrassed and stupid about it after it happens too.”
You were smiling as you kissed him then, closing the small bit of distance between you two and finding his lips in the darkness that consumed his room.
“I can’t believe you’re turning out to be the rational one out of the two of us,” You joked when you pulled back from the kiss and proceeded to bury your face into his neck and completely entangle your body with his. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” He whispered back and pressed the softest kiss to your shoulder before he started to pull away from you. You immediately pouted at him in protest but he continued, pulling the blanket off of both of you and getting out of bed. “It’s only midnight. Let’s do what we were actually supposed to do tonight.”
Hearing him say that made you follow suit and get out of bed too, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Movies and Third Street?”
Steve was nodding as he walked over to you, arms slipping around your waist and pulling you close to him. “Yup.”
“That’s a great idea,” You whispered, looking up at him. “But, no funny business on the couch, though. The walls are way too thin and we’ll never hear the end of it from Robin if she hears anything.”
“Okay,” Steve said, and then proceeded to kiss your forehead and then both of your cheeks and then your neck; all of which made you softly laugh. “Sorry, just needed to get those out of the way first.”
You gave him an understanding nod that you hoped looked as serious as you wanted it to be, but there was a wide smile on your face as you spoke. “Okay, yeah, makes sense.”
He gave you one final kiss, that time against your lips, and then he was pulling away from you and heading toward his shut door. Your arms circled around him from behind as you followed him out into the living room.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
for anonymous - thank you for voting!!! hope you like this hehe <3
contains: love drunk!steve; gender unspecified reader; flirting; s4!steve
He’s practically drooling. If he were someone else, he would call himself pathetic - even if he knows he is. Steve licks his lips, watching you reach high for a tape, your shirt riding up a little.
“Are you serious?”
He can’t hear Robin, or maybe he just doesn’t want to. Loves her, but pretty boy duty calls.
“Steve!”
“Huh?” he finally asks, turning to face her.
“Have you even heard a single thing I’ve said in the last —“ She checks her watch. “Three minutes?”
“You were talking for three minutes?” he asks, startled.
“Oh my God, Steve.” She’s pissed. And he feels bad, but he knows she’ll be fine in five minutes, and probably even better if he fucks up while checking you out at the counter. “You’re such a bonehead.”
He rolls his eyes and looks back at you. You’re looking at him, all amused. He feels so deeply seen, like you shouldn’t even be looking at him, like he doesn’t really deserve the attention.
“Sorry,” you say. Your voice sounds so sweet. “I just haven’t heard someone say ‘bonehead’ in a while.”
“He is,” Robin says flatly.
You smile at him and his knees feel weak. “I’m sure.”
You continue browsing. Robin looks at Steve. “You are a bonehead,” she affirms, grabbing a cart of tapes to put them away.
Steve feels all dizzy. He’s seen hot people in the store, but this is different. You’re straight out of a dream. He doesn’t know how he hasn’t seen you before. You’re about his age, but he doesn’t remember you from high school. Not that three concussions haven’t ruined his memory.
He perks up when you come to check out. Steve has no small talk in his mind for your selections. His brain feels frozen and it reminds him of his time at Scoops a year earlier.
“Do I know you?” he asks. It comes out awkwardly.
“I don’t think so,” you say. “I’m just - I’m here visiting some family, and I have to babysit.” You point at the two animated movies you’d chosen. “So, no, I don’t think so.”
“Babysit?” he says. “I babysit, too.”
You nod. “Okay.”
“Yeah,” he says. Now he’s spitballing. “They’re little shits though. Always dragging me into things I don’t want dragged into. But they’re sweet, I guess. Except one of them.”
You nod politely.
He wants to hang himself with film strips.
“Well, if I need help, I’ll definitely call you.”
Finally, an opening. “You’d need my number to do that, huh?”
Now you’re frazzled. Thank God. “I guess so.”
“How long are you in town for?”
You bite your cheek. “Another week.”
Steve hums. “I say we take our kids, drop ‘em off at the arcade, and head to the movies ourselves.”
You laugh, looking at him like he’s crazy. Your eyes are soft, though, and your smile is genuine. “Seems irresponsible.”
“Self indulgent, maybe.”
You stare at him for a moment longer before realizing you need to pay. You mumble and search your bag for your wallet, sliding a five across the counter. “Sorry,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m a little frazzled.”
“I have that effect on people.” Oh, he’s so back. He grabs your change, slipping it back to you.
“Want your receipt?”
You read between the lines. “Sure.”
He grins and snatches the paper from the register, scrawling his number across the top. He writes his name before realizing he never said it out loud. “Oh! I’m Steve, by the way.”
You give him yours and take the receipt from him. “Nice to meet you.”
He nods, waves as you leave, heart thumping. He collapses against the counter once you’re out of sight, head in his hands.
“A week,” Robin says, startling him. “You gonna have a whirlwind romance or something?”
“Maybe,” he says.
She scoffs. “You’ve been watching too many movies.”
Steve Harrington and confession in the rain PLEASE
i feel like steve hates the rain. he hates that it fucks up his hair, makes the insides of his shoes soaked, the way it makes his clothes stick to his skin. but in that moment where he looks for you, running, sprinting even, he loves it. the drama. every step just makes him run faster. he’d shout out your name, over and over, until you’d turn around, your red raincoat covered in water. he’s standing far from you, but you can see his face. it’s scrunched up, but you wouldn’t be able to tell if it’s from sadness or frustration. “steve.” you call out, eyelids heavy from the rainfall. this man does not hesitate, not when it comes to his love for you. in his head he’s got nothing to lose.
you’re about to cry when you realize that he’s going to say something that’ll make your heart ache real good. “i love you. i’ve loved you since the first day, when i saw you by your locker. when you couldn’t figure out how to close it. that day i knew that you were going to be a part of my life.” he pauses, swallowing while out of breath. “the way you said hello. the way you smiled at me. the way you’d talk endlessly to me, even if it was just to fill the silence. i love you. and if you don’t, y’known- it’s fine, i-i’ll be fine—” you cut him off, running towards him, still and shivering in the rain. he’s gorgeous, wet hair hanging in front of his face, water drops hanging from his bottom lip. it feels like the autumn leaves fall down in a slow pace, as though he slows down his surroundings, keeping him motionless in a single glimpse of the universe. you reach for his face, almost pouncing at him. he opens his arms, taking you in and holding you by your waist. both of your hands hold his cheeks as you lean in, plum-colored lips meeting yours roughly. his hands sneak up your back, pulling you closer. in that moment you’re both met with a need to feel one another. to feel each other. feel your fingertips drag across his skin.
of course steve would make sure he kisses you right, like a gentleman, so it could start off harsh but oh he’d slow it down, make it sentimental. he’s warm in the mouth, yet for a second ago you swear he was quivering like a leaf in the wind. his lips wander over yours, meeting over and over again, creating smacking noises. you pull back swiftly, looking at him, looking at one eye, then the other. “i love you too. i love you, steve.”
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