Slow mornings - Steve Harrington
╰summary: reader has a chronic headache, and Steve is there to support them
╰pairing: Steve x reader
╰Warnings: mentions of chronic pain and figuring out a way to live with it, really I'm just describing how I feel so I'm sorry if it's not equal to other descriptions!! exhausted!reader, the cutest and most loving boyfriend!Steve
╰word count: 1.2k
જ⁀➴Masterlist
Rays of blazing sunshine were making their way through Steve's curtains and into his room. Eyes lazily focused on your face, he quickly makes notice of the light blinding you. He watches as your eyes squint, desperately trying to shut out the sun by pushing your eyelids even more together.
With his head resting on his right arm, he slowly lifts his left one. Tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, he tries to find the perfect angle to hold his arm as to provide some kind of shade for your eyes. A soft groan escapes your plump, pink lips and you turn to your other side, facing him, albeit your eyes staying closed shut . He lets his hand sink in disappointment, and cautiously lets it rest on your hair, stroking it without trying to wake you up further.
Instinctively, you snuggle closer to him, his skin, his warmth. The morning has not fully secured you yet, mind somewhere between consciousness and dreams. Steve slowly draws circles on your soft skin, and you hum in approval. Eyes still closed, you blindly press a kiss to his biceps. He had the softest skin on his arms, and he knew that was your favorite spot on his whole body. A grin tugging at his lips, he tries resisting the goosebumps arising on his arm.
Head falling back, he relinquishes in the feeling of being kissed by you. His favorite feeling in the world. A low chuckle vibrates through his body as you lazily trail your lips from his biceps to his naked chest, where your mouth finally rests and you cuddle even further into him.
Steve snakes his free arm around you, pulling you impossibly, yet most desirably, closer. He presses a long, firm kiss on the top of your head and sighs into your hair. ''Need to save the world today?'', you mumble, almost incoherently, into his skin. He shakes his head in answer and grins, hand still stroking your hair. ''No, babe. Slow morning.''
He stays in this position for a few more blissful minutes, before his insides urge him to move, to do something. Silently, he tries to remove himself from your grip without interfering your post-sleep drowsiness. You mumble in disapproval and try to pull him closer once you sense his body slipping away from yours.
''I'll make some coffee, okay babe? Come down when you're ready,'' He tenderly placed a hand on your head and another kiss in your hair. He could hear you grumble in reply as he searched the floor of his room for some sweatpants. Seeing the warm, yellow light streaming into his room, he hopes a mild breeze would accompany the weather and decides against a shirt before climbing down the stairs. Downstairs, he makes coffee and then starts preparing breakfast, all the while humming your current favorite song that wouldn't stop being stuck in his head.
The stairs give a few quiet creaks and a delicate smile begins tugging at the corners of Steve's lips. He gleefully anticipated your presence, your touch on his body as you would sling your arms around him from behind like you did most mornings. But the steps on the stairs seem slow, and it is quieter than it usually was when you approached the kitchen. He instantly senses something is off.
He turns around to take you in, brows already furrowed in concern. You didn't have to say anything. Steve could see it in the slight twist of your lips, in the way your eyebrows were pinched together in a look of pain. Your hands seem to shiver slightly, and your beautiful eyes are squinting against the brightness of the kitchen. Steve takes a few hurried steps towards you and immediately places his hands tenderly on your arms.
Head bent down to catch your gaze, he tries assessing what exactly it was today. He knew you were fighting with all kinds of pains for almost your whole life. ''Head?'', he asks, adding your quietness and the sensitivity to light to his mental notes of your symptoms, to which you silently nod in answer. Your eyes meet his for the first time this morning, and he has to hold back a gasp at how they are already filled with tears. ''Oh, baby,'', he mumbles, then places a careful hand against the back of your head and pulls your body against his in a hug.
Shivering hands cling desperately to the skin on his back as your body begins to shake from the first sob. ''I just want a slow morning with you. No pain, no stress...'', you trail off, tears wetting his chest, but he doesn't mind in the least. With his brows still furrowed in despair, in this moment, and not for the first time, he just wishes he could take your pain away and endure it himself. ''I know, baby. I know.'', another kiss placed on your head, hand stroking your hair and then down your back, trying to calm you, knowing it will only make your pain worse.
''Let's get you back in bed, yeah? I'll close the blinds real tight, so it's good and dark for you, yeah? Then you try and close your eyes, and I'll bring you some coffee and a lot of water,'', he proposes everything he knows to have helped you at some point in the history of your headaches. You nod in agreement, tears still streaming down your reddened cheeks, but there are less of them, now.
''I just want someone to help me, to tell me what this is,'', you whisper as you slightly pull away, gesturing vaguely to any part of your body. His eyes are now filled with sadness, as well. ''We'll go to as many doctors as it takes, baby. I will make an appointment with every doctor in the whole country if I have to. I'm with you, baby. I've got you.'' Another kiss is placed, this time on your forehead, and you close your eyes in the closet thing to contentment you can muster right now.
''Thank you, Stevie.'' Words whispered, you loose yourself in the warmth of his eyes, and finally a hint of a, albeit tired, smile is playing on your lips. ''Nothing to thank me for. I love you.'', he clarifies, cupping your cheeks in his soft, warm hands, and bending down to place a tender kiss on your lips. He starts pulling away, and you lazily chase after his lips, not ready to let go yet, craving his touch.
Steve lets out a loving chuckle, then plants another, longer kiss on your mouth, making you sigh into it. He grins until his lips are no longer connected with yours. ''C'mon, baby. Get back to bed. I'll be with you in a minute and then you get all the kisses you want, deal?'' The proposition makes your eyes glisten with excitement as though you would tell a child they would get candy. It almost makes Steve's heart explode with adoration. Jesus, how he loves you.
He watches you grumpily climb the stairs to his room again, as he finishes up a tray with coffee, water, and something to eat before following you upstairs. Back in his room, he closes his curtains the best way he can, before climbing in bed next to you. Were it not for your headache, he wouldn't have minded a morning like this. Cuddling, tender kisses placed on skin, and dozing off. The most important part was you, always. The rest, he did not care about.
