synopsis: when Steve wakes up with a concussion in a hospital bed after a crawl gone wrong, he canāt help but fall for youāthe pretty girl sitting by his bedsideācompletely unaware that youāre already his girlfriend.
word count: 1.8k
tags: tooth-rotting fluff, temporary amnesia, mild head injury, dizziness, flirting, concussion, hospital setting, romantic and flirty situations, protective behavior, playful teasing, steve hopelessly in love with you
Steve can feel a lot of things when he opens his eyes.
The first is pain. A dull, throbbing pressure pulsing behind his forehead, like someone is rhythmically knocking on the inside of his skull.Ā
The second is light. Bright and white and unforgiving, stabbing straight through his eyelids until he squints and groans before he even realizes heās awake.
The third thing isā¦ beeping.
Thereās a plastic tube taped to his arm, connected to an IV machine humming quietly beside the bed. His body feels heavy, sluggish, like heās been dropped back into himself without instructions.
And then there are two figures hovering over him, silhouettes at first. One of them lets out a sharp, breathless laugh. āHoly shitāheās awake. Oh my god, Harrington, you scared the livingāā
āRobin,ā another voice cuts in quickly, firm but gentle. āWould you quiet down your voice? Heās probably still processing the situation.ā
Steve would love to process the situation. He justā¦ doesnāt know what the situation is.
His vision sharpens bit by bit, the haze clearing enough for faces to come into focus. On one side of the bed is a girl with short hair and an expression thatās equal parts relief and barely-contained excitement. Sheās smiling way too hard, like sheās waiting for him to say something
On the other sideā
Steveās breath stutters, completely against his will.
Sheās closer, standing just within his line of sight, her hands clasped together like sheās been holding herself back from touching him.Ā
Her eyes are glassy, rimmed with exhaustion and something else he canāt name yet, and sheās looking at him with so much worry and love. Like he scared her. Like sheās been here a while.
Steve isnāt one to discriminate. He appreciates beauty in all forms. But holy shitāhis chest tightens in a way that feels familiar and frightening all at once.
He doesnāt know you. Heās almost sure of that, and yet the pull is immediate, instinctive, like his body recognizes you before his mind can catch up.
āUh,ā he croaks, except pain shoots through his body as he tries to speak.
āEasy, easy.ā you say right away. Your voice is calm, but your eyes are worried, scanning his face like you are checking for cracks. āHey, youāre okay. Youāre in the hospital.ā
Steve frowns, trying to piece things together. āWhy am I in a hospital,ā he asks, then winces when the movement makes his head pound harder. āAnd who are you people?ā
Robin lets out a short, incredulous laugh. āWe, buddy, are your friends.ā
"And how did I end up here?"
āYou got hurt on a crawl,ā you say gently, keeping your voice calm as your thumb traces small circles on the back of his hand. āYou crashed your car into a pole on the way back. The doctors said itās a concussion, and your memory might be temporarily affected.ā
āIā¦ donāt remember any of that,ā he admits slowly, panic threading through his voice.
āSteve, itās okay,ā you say softly, keeping your tone steady even though worry is slipping through. āTemporary memory loss is part of the recovery.ā
āSorry,ā he murmurs, though heās not sure why. āI justāā
And then, because apparently whatever theyāve got pumping into his veins has removed his filter entirely, he blurts, āYouāre just really pretty.ā
Heat creeps up your neck and into your cheeks, as you huff out a quiet, disbelieving laugh and shake your head once, eyes dropping to his chest like you might find something steadier there.
Robin snorts loud enough to break the moment. āOkay, wow. Guess the concussion knocked his filter clean out.
She steps back toward the door, already reaching for the handle. āIām gonna go tell the others heās awake before Dustin gets more worried.ā She pauses, smirks at Steve. āDonāt flirt yourself into another head injury.ā
And then sheās gone, leaving the room quieter than before.
The room settles into something quieter after that. The machines hum as Steve shifts slightly, then freezes when he realizes how close you still are.
Your hand is still on his.
He blinks at you, then grins slowly, a little mischievous despite the wires attached. āSooooā¦ are you gonna tell me who you are so I can figure out a way to take you out on a proper date once Iām out of this bed?ā His eyes flicker with a mix of earnestness and teasing, and you canāt help but grin at how genuinely sweet he sounds.
You raise an eyebrow, smirking. āA proper date, huh? Youāre already in a hospital bed and thinking about that?ā
Steve leans back slightly, still staring at you with a goofy, love-struck grin. āHey, priorities, okay? First I survive this concussion, then I take you out somewhere nice. Gotta make it worth your while.ā
Your chest warms at the sincerity, and you reach out, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. āWell, Mr. Harrington, you better survive then, or youāre never getting that date.ā
āOh, Iām determined, baby. Itās not every day a man wakes up in a hospital bed and finds a pretty girl at his bedside. Canāt let that chance slip away.ā
You laugh loudly, shaking your head. āYouāre gonna have to stop saying stuff like that or Iāll start thinking youāre hitting on me.ā
He lifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug. āAnd what if I am?ā
Your brows lift, amused. āIs that so?ā
āWell,ā he says, warming to it now, āwould that be such a bad thing?ā
You laugh again, cheeks pink. āNo, I guess not.ā
He opens his mouth, clearly about to say moreāthen cuts himself off. āāUnless you donāt think Iām awesome. Which, not to brag, but I am. I mean, Iām justā¦ not at my best right now. My hairās usually fixed and I'd be in way better shape.ā
āI know that, Steve,ā you say, fond and familiar in a way that makes his stomach flip.
āThen whatās the problem?ā he asks, squinting at you like heās solving a puzzle. āYou got a boyfriend or something?ā
You hesitate for half a second. Then nod. āI do."
āOh.ā
The warmth in his chest caves in on itself, replaced by1 something hollow and sharp. His head throbs suddenly, a spike of pain behind his eyes, and images he doesnāt understand flash through his mind; your laugh, your hands laced with someone elseās, your mouth pressed to another personās cheek.
Someone who isnāt him.
He swallows, forcing a small, lopsided smile. āYeah. Figured so.ā A quiet breath out. āGuess it wouldāve been kinda insane if a girl like you didnāt already have someone.ā
You reach up without thinking, fingers sliding into his hair, smoothing it back. The touch resets something in him instantly. Whatever ache was there dulls under your hand.
āItās okay,ā you say softly. āIām really flattered.ā
He looks at you for a long moment, then nods. āWell,ā he says, trying to sound casual and failing just a little, āyour boyfriendās a lucky guy.ā
You hum, noncommittal, then sigh and slump forward, burying your face into the sheets.
Steve watches you, heart doing something stupid again. You lookā¦ comfortable and so soft. Like a cat curling up somewhere it feels safe.
āAs I said, youāre really pretty,ā he murmurs, voice rough and nasal from the concussion. āButā¦ you must hear that all the time, donāt you?ā
You shrug, brushing a strand of hair from your face, lips barely parting. āNot really,ā you admit quietly, almost inaudible.
Steve blinks, then slowly pushes himself up in the hospital bed, propping on one elbow. āReally? Your boyfriend doesnātā¦ call you that?ā
You place a hand lightly on your chin, lips pouting just slightly, hair falling across your face. The soft tilt makes your eyes shine in the bright hospital light, and Steve swallows, heart thudding in a way thatās equal parts awe and helplessness. He wants to lean forward, brush his thumb across that pout, kiss it gently, but he doesnāt.
You shake your head slightly, still face-down. āNot really.ā
āGod,ā he murmurs, sincerity slipping through before he can stop it, āyour boyfriend sucks.ā
You glance up at him, surprised.
āIf I were him,ā Steve continues, voice quiet but sure, āIād tell you youāre pretty every single day.ā
And while Steve wants to tell you to dump that clueless idiot of a boyfriend already, he bites his tongue. Heās not here to be a homewrecker, he just wants you to realize your worth before that poor sap completely wastes it. Besides, itās painful watching someone else fumble what should be his.
You groan. āMy boyfriendās a total jerk sometimes. He doesnāt notice half the things I do, and he spends all his time driving around with a bunch of kids, getting into troubleā
Steveās grin is lazy but affectionate, eyes crinkling despite the fever. āThat bastardās missing out! How can he hang out with kids when heās got a pretty girl like you waiting for him? What a schmuck.ā
You snort. āThatās exactly what I keep telling him.ā
He smiles lazily, the corners of his mouth tugging upward despite how tired he clearly is. āYeah,ā he says, words starting to blur together now.Ā
āYāknow what I think.ā He pauses, fighting sleep. āI think you should tell that boyfriend of yours heās gotta do better.ā
āAnd if he doesnāt?ā you ask, amused.
Steveās eyes flutter, but he manages a crooked smirk. āThen,ā he murmurs, āIām gonna comeĀ and sweep you from right under his nose.ā
You laugh, warm and fond, and reach out to tuck the blanket more securely around him. āBig talk for someone who can barely keep his eyes open.ā
He hums softly, already drifting to sleep. āMājust sayinā,ā he mumbles. āPretty girl like you deserves better.ā
****
Two weeks later, Steve is supposed to still be taking it easy.
Keyword: supposed to.
Heās on the edge of the bed, wrestling with his shoes, one hand rubbing at his temple like that might fix the very real concussion heās ignoring. Youāre in the doorway, arms crossed, watching him with the look that says your patience ran out five minutes ago.
āSteve! Youāre being unbelievable,ā you say. āThe doctor said to rest and not to stupid shit.ā
Steve scoffs. āI wasnāt trying to be stupid.ā
āYou went into a tunnel full of demobat slime!ā
āāto save you and Dustin,ā he shoots back, turning to look at you. āWhich, by the way, I did. So maybe a thank-you instead of whatever this is?ā
You groan, dragging a hand down your face. āYouāre so annoying lately.ā
He laughs once, sharp. āOh, Iām annoying? Sorry my brain injury is inconvenient for you.ā
āOh my god,ā you mutter. āYouāre such a shitty, horrible boyfriend.ā
Steve blinks. āWow. Okay. And youāre an inconsiderate girlfriend who apparently doesnāt care that I almost cracked my skull because you and Dustin are absolute idiots.ā
You huff, turn on your heel, and start pulling the blanket off the bed. āFine. Iām not sharing a bed with you tonight.ā
He frowns immediately. āāWait, what? Where the hell are you going?ā
āAnywhere thatās not next to an ass,ā you snap, grabbing a pillow.
Steve watches you for half a second, then stands. A little wobbly, but determined. āOkay, yeah, no. Iām following you.ā
You glare. āIf you donāt quit it, Iām gonna find someone else who treats me right.ā
āOh really?ā
āYes,ā you say, annoyed and dramatic on purpose now. āAt least they wonāt be reckless and stupid.ā
Steve steps closer, incredulous. āIs that so? And where exactly are you gonna find someone who can tolerate your annoying ass? Because I bet there isnāt a single soul in Hawkins who can handleāā
You whip the pillow at his chest.
āI actually know someone,ā you say smugly, pointing a sharp finger at him. āWho said heād sweep me right out from under your nose, Steve Harrington!ā
The color drains from Steveās face.
Ā āāWait, what?ā he blurts, eyes wide. āWho?ā
What a dumbass, you think, smirking as you turn away.
based on this request: right here!!
a/n: this was so lovely to write! i hope it meats your expectations nonnie, and thank you for all the detailed ideas <33 much love xx
im just a girl who loves frat rafe, nerd rafe, soft rafe, baby daddy rafe, husband rafe, toxic rafe, ex rafe, druggie rafe, needs a hug rafe, imprisoned rafe, season one rafe, season two rafe, season three rafe, season four rafe, i will love season five rafe, rafe, rafe cameron, kelce and toppers bestfriend rafe, golfer rafe, abusive rafe, sweetheart rafe, college rafe, ghostface rafe, serial killer rafe, rafe in season two with that sexy ass hat on when hiding from the police in the boat with barry, rafe in a grey north face jacket, enemy rafe, wards least favourite child, sarah and wheezies older brother, kook king rafe, highschool lovers rafe, rafeā¦. did i mention rafe cameron from obx?
a/n: inspired by the joker and harley in suicide squad but a little less toxic (lowkey obsessed with it)
the dim light of the club bathed the room in a murky haze of reds and blues, the air electric with pounding bass and the clink of glasses. but none of that mattered to him. not the noise, not the bodies moving around the room, not even the wad of cash burning a hole in his pocket.
the jokerās bright blue eyes were locked on her.
she moved in the center of the floor like she owned it, and maybe she did. every sway of her hips, every arch of her back was deliberate, intoxicating. the way she laughed, sharp and wild, sent a jolt straight through his chest. his queen. his chaos.
sitting in his booth, a drink untouched in his strong hand, he leaned back, draping one arm over the edge of the velvet seat. his signature smirk curled across his face, beautiful yet dangerous, but his gaze softened in a way it only ever did for her.
she twirled, hair whipping around her face, and when her eyes caught his for just a second, he felt it like a punch. he gripped the edge of his glass, the tension in his chest mounting. how did she do that to him? bring him to his knees with just one look?
āboss, you good?ā one of his henchmen muttered from nearby, his voice tentative.
rafe didnāt even bother looking at him. his focus was all hers. āgood?ā he echoed, his voice low and dripping with that dangerous charm. āoh, iām more than good, barry. thatāā he gestured lazily toward her, his rings catching the dim light. āthat right there is a masterpiece.ā
she laughed at something or someone too close to her, and his smirk twitched. one thing about him was that he didnāt share well, and she knew it. he could see the game she was playing, feel the tug of her invisible strings pulling him in. it wasnāt fair, but he loved it.
toxic? sure. obsessive? definitely. but he didnāt care.
when she finally found her way back to him, her breathless smile daring him to say something, she slid onto his lap as if she belonged there. cause she did.
āenjoying the show, rafey?ā she teased, her voice dripping with mischief, knowing sheās the only person heād ever let call him that.
his tatted hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer, his grin sharp as ever. āyou know i canāt look away, doll. youāre the fire, the spark and iām just the poor fool who keeps getting burned.ā
she laughed, throwing her head back, and he watched her like a man possessed. feeling a sense of pride as he watched her necklace with his initial glittering in the light. āis that what i am to you?ā she asked, brushing a hand along his sharp jawline.
āyou,ā he murmured, his voice a low growl now, āare everything. and youāre mine. donāt you ever forget it.
and she wouldnāt, because even as twisted as they were, the jokerās love for her was the one thing that was undeniably real.
Being a girl is: wanting to go to bed early but deciding to just get on tumblr/wattpad/Ao3 for a little bit and then end up finding a fic series that you really like and read until well past your usual bedtime then keeping on because itās already past your bedtime. Then being mad when you wake up in the morning because you overslept your timer.
"wow, you're such a dirty girl, you actually like this shit?" as he scrolls through my tumblr likes with one hand and rubbing circles on my swollen clit with the other.
harringtonās girl @topsecretacc - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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