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#steve harrington x self insert
moonstruckme · 3 months
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Heyy:)💞could I request something in which reader is a virgin and she’s afraid of her first time and like unsure if she feels ‘ready’ for it but also doesn’t want to come of as prude and the character you’re writing for just comforts her and tells her it’s fine🌞Any character you’re writing for would be fine!!:))) have a great dayyy🫶
Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!
cw: smut mdni, oral (fem recieving), virgin reader
Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 958 words
Steve’s hands are strong and warm on your waist, dipping lower. You roll your hips against his, and the sound that emerges from him is half-moan, half-laugh. He kisses you dizzy. 
“Can I take these off?” he asks, tugging at your back pocket.
“Yeah,” you say without thinking. 
You trust Steve. You haven’t been dating long, but you can tell he’s a good guy. He has a tendency to act overconfident and then backtrack immediately, which he says he’s working on. He’s genuine when it counts. Nice to you in all the ways that matter. 
It’s not until your jeans hit the floor, where Steve’s shirt already lies, that you start to think about the implications of losing those bits of clothing. Whether or not you want them. 
Steve grabs big handfuls of your ass, your flesh pudging between his fingers. He flips you over. 
You giggle at the suddenness of it, and he drinks in the sound happily, lips curving over yours. You press kiss after kiss after kiss into his mouth, giddy and lost in him. After a while, he dips his head to move his attentions to your neck. Your breaths become gaspy, head tilting sideways to grant him better access as your eyes flutter closed. 
You don’t even notice his hand moving until his fingers wiggle under the waistband of your panties. 
You go still. Then try to relax again. Try to embrace it. His fingers slide over your folds, already slicked, while his thumb searches for your clit. He finds it, circling tantalizingly. You try to get lost again. It’s not hard. Soon you’re panting, tangling your hand in Steve’s hair as his mouth sponges over your pulse. He slips one thick finger into you, then two. Scissoring. 
You try to make your voice sound casual as can be. 
“What’re you doing?” 
“Opening you up.” The words are mumbled against your skin, matter-of-fact. “M’gonna get you ready, don’t worry.” 
Your breath catches in your throat. 
“Whoa, hey,” Steve laughs. “Relax for me. You okay?” 
You hesitate, and his fingers still inside you, thumb slowing on your clit. 
“Hey.” He sits up, looking down at you. “Are you doing okay?” 
“I’m not sure if—if I want—”
“Oh, oh my god.” He slips his fingers out, wiping his hand on his sheets. His other hand twitches like it wants to touch your face, but he stops it before it gets there, setting it on the bed beside your head. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume…anything.” 
“No, you’re good.” You try to laugh it off. “I’m being dumb. We can keep going.” 
You tip your chin upward, kissing him. Steve doesn’t take the cue.
“I don’t want to do anything you don’t want,” he says, sitting up a bit more, putting more distance between you. You lie back on the mattress and fight the urge to cover your face with your hands. “If you don’t feel like it, that’s cool.” 
You rub your lips together. They’re still tingling. “It’s not that I don’t feel like it,” you try to explain. “It’s just that I’m not sure…I don’t know if I’m ready.” You cringe. “It feels stupid to say it.” 
Steve’s eyebrows twitch together. “Ready for…?” 
You give him a deadpan look, and his expression clears. 
“Oh. Whoa, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” 
You shrug. “I didn’t tell you.” 
“Yeah…” He seems a bit shell-shocked. “Why did you say we could keep going? Do you want to?” 
Your eyes fall thoughtlessly to where Steve’s hand rests just below your navel, your underwear a soppy mess behind it. “I don’t know,” you admit. 
Steve nods like he understands, though he still looks confused. “Well, we shouldn’t do anything unless you know for sure.” 
You look at him, guilt like concrete clogging your insides. “Really? You don’t think I should just get it over with?” 
“What?” His face screws up. “No. Honey,” —He’s never called you that before. You melt a little— “you should want to have sex. If you’re not sure, you’re not sure. That’s fine.” You search in his tone for any hint of sarcasm or bitterness but come up empty. His hand drifts over to your hip, running the length of it. “You’re not asking because you think I want to, are you?” 
It’s a silly, hypocritical stab of hurt, but it hurts nonetheless. “You don’t?” 
“No, I do,” Steve says hastily. “Obviously I do. Just, that’s not a good enough reason for you to do it. And I don’t want you to get it over with, that’s for sure.” 
He says the last bit wryly, glancing away from your face like he’s barely restraining an eye-roll, and you laugh. He looks back at you, grinning. Pleasantly surprised. 
“I mean, it wouldn’t really reflect on you if I was getting it over with,” you say, but Steve scoffs. 
“Fuck yeah it would. Sex with me should be magical, babe,” he tells you, kissing your chin firmly. “Sparks flying and butterflies and all that. The whole fireworks show.” 
“Oh, you’re selling it now.” 
“Not,” he does roll his eyes this time, kissing the corner of your mouth, “my intent. You tell me when you feel ready, and then I’ll start advertising, but until then don’t worry about it.” He catches your eye, and his are searching even as he raises his eyebrows playfully. “I can still give you the fireworks show other ways, if you want me to.” 
You blink. “Really?” 
Steve blinks harder. “Yeah! Jesus, your expectations of me are so low. Give me a little credit.” He presses kisses to your mouth, your chin, trailing down your throat, his blessed hand making its way back towards your heat. “Just sit tight, let me get you warmed up again.”
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filthyfluffyfantasies · 8 months
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masterlist ┉ steve harrington
You’ve reached my masterlist for ( steve harrington ). Below is a complete and mostly up-to-date list of pieces I have written for ( steve harrington ) and a little list of symbols and their meanings to better help you find exactly what you’re looking for.
♡ Fluff | ♥ Filth | ☁ Angst | ☠ trigger warning needed | ★ Personal Favorite | ϟ Most Read | ☺ Work In Progress | ☻Abandoned
Happy reading, my darling!
NSFW
Alphabet
↪ here
Headcanons
↪ blurb 1
Interludes
↪ ♥ lovemaking, lazyghouls kinktober 2023, read all warnings on post.
↪ ♥ creampie/breeding kink, lazyghouls kinktober 2023, read all warnings on post.
↪ ♥ role reversal, lazyghouls kinktober 2023, read all warnings on post.
↪ ♥ exhibtionism/voyeurism, lazyghouls kinktober 2023, read all warnings on post.
SFW
Alphabet
↪ here
Headcanons
↪ blurb 1
Interludes
↪ here
OTHER
Fic Name
↪ info post
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berryfeilds · 3 months
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𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬.
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Summary- It hurt to stay and fall in love with him, but you were desperate.
Warnings- angst, unrequited feelings, arguing, few cuss words, set after S4.
W/C- 1.6k
A/N: not very proud of this eee
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It was a stupid thing really, a decision you didn’t think thoroughly about. Fighting Steve while battling your feelings for him wasn’t an ideal combination.
Feet in the pool cooling off the summer heat, while talking about the last events of the Scarring Spring the gang endured, and how you felt about it. This little routine started after the events of the Demodogs and Mindflayer. 
Little did you know that was the start of your inevitable falling for King Steve.
You slept over at his house, too scared to be alone in your solitude, flinching at the slightest of sounds. You considered just toughing it out but settled on the conclusion that honestly maybe he shouldn't be alone either. So you picked your trembling body and drove over to him. And as expected your reasoning was right, Steve was awake and in the same frightened state you were in.
Ever since that night you and Steve were practically inseparable; stuck side by side by a string. You babysat together, helped him land his job at the mall, comforted him through the tearful days of his parents’ mistreatment, and all the more. And in exchange he was present for your cheerful and irritated moments. 
Being friends with Steve was easy; Mathematicians would contrast its simplicity with how quickly the entire multiplication table could be solved. Astronomers would compare it to the facile discovery of Polaris, while doctors would contrast the basic comparison akin to finding a beating heart.
Loving him however, was miserable. Poets would weep at just a glance at your tragic love story, and kids would be confused: why isn’t the story lining up the way it’s supposed to? With every date he goes on, your heart breaks. With every glance at another girl, your stance falters. But Steve was your friend, and you stick by your friends, even if you are in love with them. Even if they subconsciously hurt you. 
But this time was different. Very different. A kind of different that clawed your heart out and had him spit on it. 
“I think I’m still in love with Nancy.” 
Suddenly, your head goes quiet.
“What?” Narrowed eyes looking at him from your side of the pool. 
“Maybe I never stopped,” Steve's eyes were trained on the waving water below. 
How could he be so nonchalant? Like he isn’t stabbing his nailed bat into you repeatedly.
“I mean she mentioned her relationship with Jonathan isn’t at it’s best so maybe-” 
After helping him move on, after your endless amount of advice, he still loved her? She broke his heart and he still loves her? 
You ignore your own hypocrisy.
The scowl on your face deepend with each decibel that spilled out of his mouth. 
“What?” the sound of your voice seemingly going down an octave.
Steve’s head whips towards your hostility. He’s seen you angry and it’s not a pretty sight, most people apologize before you start barking. But he’s never been on the receiving end, and this has him confused, and frankly a little scared.
“Well, we were talking in that little trailer we stole a-and we were flirting and I think she-” Voice almost brittle, Steve flies through the words. 
Why is he so adamant on explaining his reasoning to you? He feels his nerves spiking, and skin trembling, it’s probably the heat, yeah, the heat-
“She broke your heart -and maybe Jonathan’s now- and you're drooling over what? Being a second choice?” You bark, white knuckles gripping the coping. 
You know you're being cruel, you know you should stop, but, this is the first time since meeting Steve that you feel superior. The power of knowing you can control how this goes. No more flustered and smiley you, he’s added enough oil to the flame, and you feel yourself blazing; you're done chasing a lost cause.
Steve scoffs indecorously, as he pushes his ever perfect hair away from his face. 
“Ah- what? Second choice? Do you really think so lowly of her? Of me?”
“No! I think all of us are scared and broken people but, that does not mean she gets to treat you like crap -and you to her- and then waltz in and fucking hint at a flirt!”
Suddenly you felt every prick of gravel on your skin. You feel every atom swaying in the water by your feet. You were tired and yelling. It wasn't helping that the humid air was making you dizzy. 
“Her and Jonathan are basically broken up! I don’t know why this is such a big deal! I thought you would be happy for me?” He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows. 
Both your voices are at equal volume now but there’s a difference in tone. His is pained and confused. Why aren’t you supporting him? Why aren’t you excited? 
Your voice is angry and tired. Tired from the waiting, the ignoring, the being thrown off to the side. And angry from ever thinking waiting was a good idea, and trusting that Steve would ever look at you as a potential love interest. 
That’s not who you are or ever will be. And Steve will continue to be blinded by the countless beautiful girls that aren’t you or ever will be.
“I’ve been happy for you Steve -for fucks sake- I’m always happy for you! Every damn date, every damn girl, every fucking time! And I supported you and helped you with every single one that caught your eye and I’ve been silent like an idiot through it all!” 
“I never asked you to help me, that was your choice!”
“Cause that’s what friends do Steve! They help the people they care about!”
“If that’s your logic why aren’t you my friend now? You know how hurt I was by Nancy and how long I spent dissecting every single memory trying to see what I did wrong,” He takes a fast breath, “So her coming back and asking for a second chance at us is good! So why don’t you care now-”
“Don’t you dare Steve, the reason we’re having this conversation right now is because I care!”
“You have one hell of a way of showing it,” he murmured indecorously. 
“A simple thank you would suffice you dick.” you all but growled at him.
“This wouldn’t even be a problem if you hadn’t gone and blew up on me!” he retorted almost jokingly. The situation wasn’t far from being a joke. You and Steve the bright stars starring in the circus called your love life.
You sat silent at that. Everything is crumbling; the love, the patience, the longing. All gone and vanished. Is this who you’ve been hoping for? Wishing and praying to every shooting star. Someone who takes takes takes and never gives? Have you really been this blind? Do rose-colored glasses really sabotage you this hard?
“I dropped everything for you Steve. Everything. To help you, to ease your pain -god I always drove to your house at the crack ass of dawn the second you call. So don’t sit there acting like I couldn’t -that I don’t- give a shit about you.”
You weren’t done.
“How stupid was I to let you walk all over me and think that in the end you would see why I did everything for you.” You breathe in sharply before continuing, “Steve…” You clench your hands into tight fists and try to calm the wobble in your voice.
“I don’t think I can be here for you anymore, not like this,”
Now it’s Steve’s turn to sit quiet, not knowing how to answer. He inhales deeply as he ponders where to take this argument. He stares at you and notices your bloodshot eyes and the painful bite of your lips; You were trying not to cry. You hate when people watch you cry. All Steve wants to do is bundle you up and apologize for acting so stupid. He knew sugaring up with Nancy was a bad idea; He knew you would oppose it and fight for his happiness but Steve liked it easy. Scared of anything that has him weird and tingly, stuttering over his words. He hated it.
He pulls his gaze away from you and wonders: Why were the two of you arguing? Why are you so mad about him getting back with Nancy? Were you scared for Jonathan? The both of you have always been close friends. Hanging out during high school, working together, teaming up together when Hawkin’s turns upside down. 
He’s so confused it’s starting to give him a headache. How does one save his ass from a receptive friend's fury? He knows you. From the little and sacred time, he’s gotten the pleasure to truly see you. You’re so considerate and lovely; Always checking up on people, making sure you're the first to go down a scary path, throwing yourself in harm's way to protect the kids, and always making sure everyone gets treated before you. He doesn’t want to lose you, but the look on your face is tired. So tired that he’s scared that maybe he’s just noticed it now. How long have you been bottling everything up?
He says your name softly before continuing, “What…what do you mean by that?”
 It’s quiet, so quiet you second guess if you actually heard it. But you did. You always do when it comes to him.
“Open your eyes Steve.” 
You finally look at him. With all your exhausted glory. You finally let him see what he’s created: sad, neglected, and unloved you. You need to get out of here before you do -or say- something more stupid; Something that could ultimately ruin what little left of your crumbling friendship with him.
With that you get up and gather your things, walking out of Steve’s home. He’s still sat silent, as his head glistens from the water’s beam gliding across his contemplating face. He hasn’t made a move or sound of protest at your departure and you hope it stays that way. You need to get away, far away from whatever you messed up here. 
You close the door to his home not sparing him a second glance. And he doesn’t try to stop you.
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© berryfeilds 2024
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vilentia · 4 months
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Unmasked
Steve Harrington x reader
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Summary: A tender and intimate relationship unfolds, allowing Steve to discover and embrace his true self.
****
The quiet aftermath of the Upside Down brought a stillness to Hawkins that was almost eerie. For you, it was a return to normalcy, but for Steve Harrington, it was the beginning of a new journey.
In your small, cozy living room, with its mismatched cushions and soft, warm lighting, Steve found a haven. Here, he was no longer King Steve, the guy with the nail-bat, or the default babysitter. Here, he was just Steve, and it was both terrifying and liberating.
"I've always had to be something more," he confessed one evening, as you both lay sprawled on the couch. Your head rested against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "King Steve at school, the protector for the kids... It's like I never got the chance to just be me."
His words hung in the air, mingled with the faint scent of the jasmine candle burning on the coffee table. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, which always seemed to carry the weight of his unspoken thoughts.
"You don't have to be anything but yourself here, Steve," you said softly, your hand finding his. "With me, you're safe."
It was a slow process, watching the layers peel back from a persona that had been carefully constructed over years. But in these quiet moments, with shared smiles and gentle touches, Steve began to let go.
Rain tapped gently against the window on a chilly evening, the kind of rain that whispered secrets and promised new beginnings. Wrapped in a blanket, you both watched the droplets race down the glass, an unspoken comfort in the silence between you.
"I was always scared to show weakness," Steve admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "To be vulnerable meant to be open to hurt, and I couldn't afford that. Not with everything that was going on."
Your fingers traced patterns on the back of his hand, a silent reassurance. "It's okay to let those walls down, Steve. Here, with me, you don't have to be strong all the time."
As he turned to you, his eyes were an open book of fears and dreams, of battles fought and scars borne. But there was also hope, a flicker that grew stronger in your presence.
"With you, I feel like I'm just starting to understand who I am. Not some role I have to play, but me. Steve Harrington, without all the extra baggage," he said, a small, genuine smile playing on his lips.
You leaned in, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was tender and filled with understanding. It was a reassurance, a promise, a moment of shared vulnerability.
In the days that followed, your relationship blossomed into something beautiful and real. Movie nights turned into impromptu dance sessions in your living room, his laughter filling your space with a joy that was infectious. Cooking together became a regular activity, filled with playful flour fights and stolen kisses.
One evening, as you both lay curled up under a blanket, watching the embers of the fire dance in the fireplace, Steve's voice broke the comfortable silence. "I love you," he said, his voice steady and sure. "Not for the heroics or the adventures, but for this. For the quiet moments, for the comfort, for the realness."
Your heart swelled with an emotion so profound it was almost overwhelming. "I love you too, Steve. For who you are, for who you've been, and for who you're yet to become."
In your embrace, he found a peace he'd never known. With you, he was unmasked, vulnerable, and utterly content. And as you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of each other's arms, the world outside didn't seem so daunting anymore. Together, you were ready to face whatever came next, unmasked and unafraid, in love and in life.
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Text
drunk in love
pairing: steve harrington x female!reader
WC: 2K
warnings: mentions of drinking, little sexual implications. very tame.
summary: steve being drunk and in love
A/N: took the hc from @headkiss​ about glasses steve and just ran with something. most of this i wrote at the gym on the treadmill.
@alecmores​ my editor💕
been in the drafts since may 6
masterlist / steve harrington
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it’s been a while since you and steve were able to go out and enjoy yourselves, and when the perfect opportunity presented itself the both of you snatched it up. although right now, as you're slightly buzzed and steve is leaning off of eddie’s shoulder, you know getting him home is gonna be a hassle. eddie and robin weren’t making things better, in fact, they were making it worse. eddie would pull steve’s silver framed glasses away, which added to his blurring vision, and robin would hand him a glass and say, “it’s just water, dingus.” it was not water, in fact, it was a shot of vodka. steve would stick his tongue out with a grimace as his two friends just laughed.
“all right, all right.” you step in, pushing the glass away from steve’s outstretched hands, “i think that’s enough for tonight, big guy,” you say with two pats to his chest.
steve’s eyes were closed as he rolled his head back and hummed. you snatched his glasses back from eddie and tipped his face down to you. you had to wiggle the handles a bit before they sat on his red ears. his eyes blinked a few times, the mindless action looked like a focusing task for him before his warm eyes danced over your face.
“pwetty.” he even giggled a little. he moved away from eddie and wrapped his long and heavy limbs over your shoulders and pulled you into his chest. his cologne was mixed with sweat and hints of alcohol that stained his clothes and spiked his mouth.
“why don’t we get you to bed? how’s that sound?” you had to handle him like a toddler, just a little bit.
he didn’t verbally reply. just the feeling of him nodding his head, nose, and lips brushing your skin. you rubbed along his spine and he seemed to melt further.
you looked to a giggling robin and a watchful eddie who had a smirk painted on his lips. you just glared at the two of them and their childish antics toward your boyfriend.
“hope y’all had fun picking on my boy. you will not be hearing from us for the next few days.” you threw a playful middle finger their way as you left the venue.
-
steve was very handsy and clingy when heavily intoxicated. and you didn’t mind the extra love and attention, it’s just a lot when you have to push him away as you're both in the back of a taxi heading to your shared apartment. at first, it would be his arms innocently wrapped around your waist with his head leaning against your shoulder as he groaned. you would scratch his scalp or rub his back and tell him, “we’ll be home soon,” followed by a kiss to his temple. then his sleepiness would be replaced by his hornyness as he would start to place kisses on your free skin and his hands would soon wonder.
“steve…” you kept a firm tone even as he set your pulse thumping. he just hummed, just hummed! like his fingers weren’t crawling further up under your shirt and very close to your bra.
“stevie…” a slight hitch to your voice, “now isn’t the time or place.” there was another kiss just under your jaw before you heard him groan and pull his burning touch away. you heaved a sigh as you looked at the dirty car ceiling.
-
moving a man taller, heavier, and more intoxicated than you was always a challenge. well, the first two are always difficult even when sober. but when steve is close to passing out, he suddenly becomes cement and you have to make sure your knees don’t give out.
at this point in the night, you can be seen giving steve a piggyback ride… well, more like steve is leaning his front against your back and he’s dragging his feet. sometimes his glasses get caught in your hair and you groan quietly.
your thankful your apartment building has an elevator cause you would have just made the stairs your bed for the night.
steve rests his back on the wall and it gives your body a break. you turn your head at the dozing-off man-child behind you, with his arms still over your shoulders. his light brown hair that was styled earlier is now curled and tangled from the constant fingers running through them. long lashes flutter over his dark circles from long and rough hours from work and his lips were parted to let air tickle your neck hair. his glasses were slowly sliding down his oily nose bridge.
you didn’t want to, but you had to wake him up again. two taps under his chin and his head jerked up, you worried he would slam it into the wood paneling.
“sorry baby. just a few more steps and you can crash,” you pushed the glasses up and gave a kiss to his nose. a hazy grin was shown.
“your… your the-“  hiccup “- the best.”
you shrugged like you were saying, ‘what can i say?’
once you were on your floor it seemed something gave a bit of pep to steve’s steps as he wasn’t using you to keep him upright and he was the one leading you home. when you got the lock open and the door swung in, it’s like steve set foot in heaven.
“home! oh, sweet home! i’ve missed you so much! my lovely, lovely home.” it always made your heart burst whenever steve called the apartment home. and you remember why he does, it’s a loop even time he says the word.
“cause you and i are together no matter the time of day. when i’m with you it’s home and when we’re at the apartment it’s home, but like extra homey. a place where our love is physical to everyone, even ourselves.”
you ended up jumping onto steve and made out with him for a few hours until you had to start dinner.
steve’s whine of your name snapped the memory away. you couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your lips. he laid on his back with his arms reaching for you as his hands made a grabbing motion like a child asking to be picked up.
you weren’t gonna have him sleep on the floor even if he looked comfortable. so you spread your legs and waddled your feet until his knees were under you. you grabbed his forearms for added stability and tugged with all your might, which was useless. he was a bag of sand.
“stevie,” you huffed as you tried again, “i know… i said you could crash when we got home… but your back is gonna hurt real bad in the morning.”
“honey, i’m already in bed.” steve pouted. you shake your head with an amused grin, “no, you’re not. you’re on the living room floor, which i have to add, needs to be vacuumed.”
steve groaned again. you knew it wasn’t pointed toward you, just his drunk mind doing things. “steve, please don’t make me throw a cup of water at you… again.”
steve huffed, “okay, okay.” his arms dropped like anchors to the floor and he sat up, stopped, then moved to stand. and he stopped again, eyes squeezed shut, and you were really hoping he wasn’t gonna throw up.
“i’m good.” two thumbs up before stumbling towards the bedroom. it was like watching bambi on ice.
you took a detour to the kitchen for a glass of water and some of the cookies steve likes to munch on. then you grabbed some of your doctor-prescribed headache medication. you took a pill quickly in case a headache might creep up on you during the night.
when you walked through the threshold of your shared bedroom, you snorted at the sight. steve was able to kick his sneakers off at the foot of the bed, but the rest of his clothes were another thing. his light wash levi jeans (that make his ass look sooooo good) were pushed down to his knees showing off his white boxers. his shirt was lifted from his torso but covered his face, arms bent. you ogled for a minute before your thoughts ran from you.
“oh, stevie. what am i gonna do with you?” you set your treasure atop the dresser and finished his work.
when you managed to strip him of his shirt you were greeted with a smirk flashing your way. your brows raised slightly at the pull of his lips.
“what?” you leaned close to steve’s face. his head turned. “wanna fool around?” he wiggled his brows drunkenly, very suggestively. you blinked a few times at him. “one, you’re plastered. and two, if we even did have sex, it would only be kissing before you passed out on me.”
“and what a way to sleep.” a deep chuckle from his chest.
you threw his clothes in the hamper as you made quick work of changing as well. “i’m so lucky,” you heard steve mutter behind you, “my wife is the hottest woman alive.”
now if you were walking, you would’ve tripped at the words spewing from steve’s mouth. you did a slow turn and saw steve staring at his hands, not a thought behind his eyes. so you tried not to think hard about steve calling you his wife. even though it’s already pinballing everywhere with dreams of a future married together. oh, how you wish you could release a squeal of ever-loving joy.
doing your nighttime routine just put you on autopilot. from feeling floaty and warm to just wanting to fall asleep in your cozy bed with your personal space heater. as you brushed your teeth, you went to check on steve again and made sure he was breathing. he managed to pull himself under the covers, the blanket tucked all the way to his chin. but he still had his glasses on, you don’t know how he doesn’t feel them seeing as he’s on his side with his head towards your spot on the bed.
doing a double check of the locks on the door and windows and seeing everything was secure, you flicked the lights out and walked in the dark. the small night light on your nightstand gave a faint pale yellow glow that illuminated steve’s peaceful face. you could see a small bit of his chest moving with each steady breath he took, and his lips separated. he had one arm tucked under his pillow while the other was stretched to your side, his palm flat on the cover and his fingers would twitch every few seconds.
you set a knee on the mattress and lean forward slowly hoping not to wake him, which is easy or hard, depending on the situation. with nimble fingers, you grab his wired frames, and gently and slowly you pulled them away from his face. his face scrunched a bit, specifically his nose and you swooped in for a peck. steve hummed and his hand moved again and made contact with your knee.
“honey, cuddle me.” said like a command but was in the tone of a whine. but you wouldn’t deprive your best boy of cuddles, or yourself of cuddles.
so, you set his glasses down and slide into his waiting arm. steve automatically threw the limb over your waist as you got yourself comfortable. a good night kiss to his forehead before you let your head hit the pillow and wrapped your own arms around steve to pull him closer. one more kiss to the middle of his throat. and another to his collarbone. and the very last to his shoulder.
“one more,” he grumbled. you moved your head back and saw he was pouting his lips. a proper good night kiss as steve always says.
so you pressed your lips to his, deciding he could use a bit more than a lightning-fast peck. and when you pulled back he had a dreamy smile and pulled you even closer to his chest.
“i’m gonna marry you one day.” he whispered to your hair before giving light snores. and you closed your eyes with a gigantic smile as you dreamed of that special day when you marry the boy you love with your whole being.
...
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writer-in-theory · 2 years
Text
black box labels — steve harrington
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summary: when something you have been trying desperately to hide from steve comes into light, you fear the worst, not knowing how wonderful steve could be. pairing: steve harrington x gn!reader category: hurt/comfort content warnings: language, heavy discussions of eating disorder recovery word count: 2.1k a/n: this is purely a self-indulgent fic because i just started thinking about how good steve would be in this kind of situation. also i couldn't resist the lil play on words there in the title with my area of study, so there we go. as always, a huge thank you to @lcvingprentjss for beta-ing and for writing the summary. i hope y'all enjoy <3
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It wasn’t obvious, at first, but the moment Steve put it together he wondered how he’d never seen it before. 
He thinks this should have been a more significant moment, the day he realizes that you were suffering from something much more severe than what a tiny town like Hawkins was equipped to deal with. He might’ve pictured you sitting him down one night after he snuck through your window (even when your parents kept telling him to just come through the front door). You would have sat him on your bed and held both of his hands, teary-eyed as you admitted it. Then Steve could have hugged you immediately and reassured you even when he had no idea what to say in that situation.
Instead, Steve found out because of a stupid question.
“Babe, I’m grabbing a snack. Do you want anything?” Steve asked as he stood from where the two of you were wrapped up in each other on the couch. You considered the question, searching his eyes for a moment before shaking your head.
“No, I’m okay. I’m gonna change though, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” you told him, pulling yourself from the couch and taking the steps two at a time to get to your bedroom. It wouldn’t have bothered him, it didn’t bother him at the time, but eventually, that near-sprint out of the room would replay in a loop in Steve’s head.
“Y/N’s not really a snacking person,” your sibling called out from where they were working on homework at the kitchen island.
“Doesn’t seem like any of you are,” Steve pointed out, already knowing the pantry would be minimally stocked with snack foods like usual. It was never a problem though, for all he knew Steve was just used to being able to pick out his own groceries since he was twelve. He barely had to look before he was grabbing a box of Cheez-Its and turning to lean against the kitchen counter.
“Oh, no I just keep my snacks in my room.”
“What?” Steve nearly choked on the tiny handful of crackers he’d tossed in his mouth, eyeing your sibling with a strange look. He’d been dating you for several months now, so he knew your family and had been around to babysit your kid sibling the same way he’d babysit all the other kiddos in town, it seemed. He could normally feel comfortable enough to crack a joke with them, but this? This was weird. “What, scared of someone taking it?”
“No, dumbass, it’s because of Y/N’s, you know, eating thing,” your sibling answered coolly, as if that answered everything Steve could ever possibly need to know about the situation. Except, it really didn’t because what the hell did that mean? “I’m trying not to stress them out too much.”
“What eating thing?”
Steve witnessed the moment your sibling realized they messed up, or it was more so a look of pity that he was having to find out this way, from someone who wasn’t you. “Shit, I thought you knew.” In any other circumstance, he might’ve scolded them for cursing but instead, all Steve could do was stare at them with blank horror, hands fumbling as he fought to smack the Cheez-It box behind him on the counter. “Y/N has an eating disorder. Or they did. Still do. They’re doing better but, it’s...it’s still hard, you know?”
Eating disorder. 
It was the one-time Steve was glad he’d paid attention in health class last year. Mr. Turner had talked about eating disorders once, talked about how some people didn’t see their bodies as they were. All the words from that lesson flashed through Steve’s brain at once, all the possible diagnoses and the signs, what to do if you thought someone you knew was doing that. 
And shit, it all made sense, didn’t it?
The signs were plastered everywhere for him to read, even on that box he’d been holding moments before. Steve picked it up then, allowing his fingers to run over the dark black rectangle of permanent marker where he knew the nutrition facts rested. Steve knew the other boxes and bags in the pantry were like that too. He’d always assumed your family just didn’t care about what was in the food, but he never once considered, not this.
And fuck, has he ever actually seen you eat? Any time he suggests a dinner date, you’re making a new suggestion for a movie night or a day at the park. You’re always working on homework in the cafeteria, a lunchbox in front of you but now that Steve thinks about it he doesn’t think you’ve ever actually opened it in front of him. 
“I—how long has this, I mean how long have they...?” Steve managed to get out around the knot tying itself in his throat. He hated to think of you suffering all this time, right under his nose. He could have been helping you, and fuck if he knew what to do but he could’ve been there. He wouldn’t have been suggesting dinner dates or offering to get you snacks if it only upset you and made you run out of the room. He could have known.
“Y/N won’t tell us how long they, you know, but they’ve been working on it for like a year now.”
“I need to talk to them,” Steve rushed out, pushing off from the counter and practically sprinting up the stairs. His heart hadn’t raced this fast since he’d fought off a full-sized Demogorgon with nothing but a nail bat. The hallway felt ten times longer than normal and he just had to get to you, to see you and tell you how much he loved you.
When he nearly skidded past your bedroom, he noticed that your door was already open. You were sitting on the edge of your bed, arms wrapped around your middle and head tilted down.
“Did you hear...?” Steve asked gently, stepping just inside the doorway but not wanting to scare you. The tiny shrug you gave in response made Steve want to cry, made his brown eyes well up with the tears, and made his lip quiver a little as he fought to control the response. “Y/N.”
“It’s fine, Steve, I get it,” you answered, confusing him more.
“What do you mean?”
“I know this is too much,” you whispered, but the words smacked him like they had been sent through a concert-grade amplifier. “You don’t have to stay.”
Steve’s expression crumbled then, as did his resolve. He rushed over to you then, knees rubbing against the carpet as he kneeled in front of you, hands reaching out for yours and head tilting down so he could get a glimpse of your tear-stained face. “Sweetheart, please look at me, please,” he practically begged, “I miss that sweet face of yours.”
You lifted your head then, eyes still swimming with tears that fell down your cheeks but there it was, a tiny hint of the smile that could break through even the heaviest of cloud covers. 
“There you are,” he whispered like you were the very person who hung the sun in the sky. And, well, maybe you were because life was simply better with you around. Steve thought he’d loved his past partners, but no one could ever compare to how right you made him feel. “Y/N, you will never be too much for me. I just wish I knew.”
“I didn’t want to make you deal with that. Steve, it’s, it’s not fucking pretty, okay? It’s not just being hungry,” you stammered out through the wobbly tears, hands squeezing him as you fought to make him understand. “It’s pretty fucking ugly, is what it is.”
“I don’t care if it’s not pretty, Sweetheart. I love you and I want to be there for you no matter what that looks like,” Steve told you, thumbs rubbing over the skin of your hands. 
“Oh yeah?” you challenged, a bit of fire sparking in your eyes at the promise. “You really want to come over for a dinner date and watch me fucking sob into my pasta because I can’t stand the thought of eating it? You want to have to treat me like one of those middle schoolers’ you mom around, want to have to remind me every day to have something for lunch? How about being the one to grocery shop and making sure I’m not around while you scratch out all the labels because I can’t handle even seeing them anymore? I’m so much work, Steve, you don’t understand.”
“You’re right, I don’t understand what you’re going through,” he admitted, pulling one of your hands closer to him so he could press a kiss gently to it. “But I’m here for when you want to let me in. I’ll be right there through all the tears, telling you how proud I am that you went on that dinner date. And I’ll go home and get rid of every last scale in my house, and I’ll scratch out all the labels there too because I want to be there for you, no matter what that looks like. I’m not just here for your stunning face, you know, I want to see every part of you.”
You didn’t say anything for a long time, simply watching the way your hands entwined with his, eyes following his thumb trace its pattern back and forth along the back of your hand. Then, shockingly, you let out a laugh, still shaky through the residual tears but real. “That’ll take forever, Stevie. You have so many snacks.”
“And I’ll do it,” Steve promised, unable to stifle the bright smile that washed over his face at the sign of happiness in yours. It was infectious, your joy. “Every last one, Y/N. You don’t have to hide any part of yourself from me just because you think it’s something I won’t want to see, okay? Dustin really likes you; you know, I think he’d kill me himself if I ever let you go.”
“Oh, as long as you’re only in it to keep Dustin happy,” you teased, sliding off your bed onto the floor where you could wrap your arms around Steve. It was like taking that first breath after waking up, like remembering you’re alive and feeling so grateful for it. Steve never wanted to let you go, wanted to keep you wrapped up in his arms where you were safe from whatever had made all this start in the first place.
“Yeah, it’s only because of Dustin. Not because of that laugh I love so much, or your jokes that come outta nowhere. It’s not the way you just get me, or the way you always grab my sleeve when we’re walking the hallways, so you don’t lose me. And don’t even get me started about the way y—”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” you laughed, reaching a hand up to cover his mouth for only a moment. “I get it, you like me a little.”
“I love you a whole bunch, Y/N,” Steve corrected, planting a kiss on your hairline.
It felt like the two of you stayed right there on your bedroom floor for hours, just wrapped up in one another. And the next morning, Steve found breakfast for himself as usual and gently slid you a little cup of fruit he’d cut up. He held your hand when you just stared at it for a while, he sat there at the dining room table far past when he’d finished his own breakfast, talking about silly anecdotes about all the babysitting he’d done recently and how Coach was on his ass at practice until, eventually, you picked up a piece of strawberry and let it slip between your lips.
“I’m proud of you, Y/N,” he told you, after each bite until eventually, it got a little easier, until the entire cup was gone, and he was beaming that brilliant smile that made your entire chest warm. 
“Thanks for staying, Steve,” you would whisper, and Steve would shake his head because it would become his new life mission to make sure that someday you’d never question your worthiness of his love.
“Always, Sweetheart, always.”
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TAGLIST @hargvroves @eddieussy @alessiamargaux @misha-the-mild @minispice-1 @shadetea @emily19990 @alexxavicry @raven2008
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im-robins-bitch · 1 year
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Waltz (s.h x gn!reader)
Or, two years of you and Steve dancing around your hidden feelings has led you to this. Steve decides to finally take the lead because you were taking far too long.  1.2k
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“Stevie-” You warned. His hand tangled with yours and he pressed it against the wall, your body following. He wasn’t going to let you go, it was now or never. 
“You know, I hate when people call me that” His caramel eyes bore into yours.
“Yeah, I know, that's the whole point” You smiled up at him, eyes filled with mirth. You were trying to ignore that whatever this was, wasn’t the usual teasing game you liked to play. This was something more serious, more permanent. 
You never had many friends before now and the thought of losing one, especially losing Steve, was terrifying. Whatever happened now, at this moment, was surely going to change the course of your relationship with Steve in one way or another. Finally, break you out of the game of chicken you two were playing. Pushing the boundaries of platonic friendship until it snapped into pieces. 
“I only hate it when other people call me that”
You didn’t know if you were ready. If you heard his flirting and knew he was serious how could you hold back your stutter? When he brushed his hand against yours, how could you hide the beating of your heart, the swarm of butterflies in your stomach? 
In the waltz of your relationship with Steve, you had always been leading. You had been the one to pick on him when he needed it, the one to tease him until he blushed. You felt comfortable, you were in control and control was something you had a desperate lack of in your life. 
Now though, in the possible next stage of your relationship, Steve would be the one leading the dance. 
The intimacy that you craved, but your body naturally sidestepped at every turn. It was just within reach. His fingertips lightly brushed against your cheek softly, like he was touching a crumbling page in a precious book. 
It was Steve, your Steve. You didn’t know when you started thinking about him that way but at some point you did. 
You pressed your hand over his, cradling it against your face. You cherished the warmth that seeped from his palm. It was November and somehow Steve's hands were still warm. That was just Steve all over. 
Steve sucked in a breath, but he didn’t push you for any kind of verbal response. He had never been patient, but he had learnt the hard way he sometimes needed to be for you. “Stevie” You whispered. It came out more breathless than you intended, but he had a tendency to leave you that way. 
Steve leaned in closer, pressing his forehead to yours. “Honey” He whispered back, just as sweetly. You hated how your cheeks felt warmer and your eyes fluttered close. 
“I-I- used to hate when you called me that” 
Steve grinned, nose nudging yours. It made you yearn for more, your face moving gingerly forward to try and nudge against his again. “Yeah, I know that was the whole point,” he says parroting your own words back to you.
A long summer day, spent gossiping with Robin over her lunch break at Scoops Ahoy had led to Steve’s greatest discovery. Something that had finally tipped the iceberg a little in his favour. A word that would always get you to shut up. 
You were loose-lipped with Robin, her over-sharing and constant chatter leading you to be the same. It was a fast friendship, a friendship Steve pretended not to be jealous of. Somehow you began talking about pet names, probably brought about because that had been the same summer the nickname Stevie had been coined. It was a surefire way to annoy Steve, which was your favourite activity. You had confessed that honey had always been a favourite of yours, which Steve had overheard when he walked in to collect more sprinkles. Thus he found the perfect payback. 
You had all spent the rest of the summer ignoring things. You Ignored the shiver that ran up your spine every time he called you honey. Steve ignored the way finally seeing you flustered made his chest ache with want. You all collectively ignored the fact that you went to Scoops Ahoy way more often than anyone who worked on the other side of town should. 
You couldn’t ignore this now though. Your heart screaming at you to just move a couple more inches, to press your lips to his. “So you don't hate it now?” You watched as his soft lips formed the words, barely even comprehending they made a sentence. You shook your head, it was all you could manage.
He darted his tongue out to wet his lips. He knew it would make you have some kind of reaction. He didn’t realise the shallow gasp you would let out would make him have the reaction he did. 
“Can I kiss you?” He asked. His patience was crumbling. He knew he could stretch this out, a small revenge for the past two years of your own merciless teasing. Neither of you wanted that though. He had wanted this for so long now and he finally knew that you did too. 
He had torn down the tall walls you had protected yourself with brick by brick. Getting a little closer to you day after day. He saw your hard exterior, but he also saw the soft centre. The way you cared for the kids, for your friends and for him. Him being treated with extra tenderness.
Using all the courage you could muster, your hand fisted his t-shirt, pulling him the little distance that was between you and connecting your lips with his. If you were going to lose this battle, you at least wanted to be the one who made the final move.
Steve could taste the blueberry chapstick you had put on earlier and he knew every taste of the blueberry afterwards would remind him of you. Your cold hand moved from his shirt to the back of his neck, fingers entwining with his hair and tugging at it lightly. Your nose’s bumped together, trying to set a pace. You found yourself giving into his lead as you both tried to figure out how the other worked.
You pulled apart moments later, your smiles breaking the kiss. Steve gave you one more little peck as a parting gift. His head lent against yours again and he panted a little as if you had been kissing for far longer than you had. Your hand moved, pushing back his wind-swept hair that was batting against his cheek so you could press another kiss there. 
Your first kiss with Steve was quick and sweet. It had been over within a minute and you still needed to find your rhythm. Steve moved his arms to wrap around you, tugging you into his chest. He still couldn’t fight his grin, it was splitting his face in two. He smacked a kiss to the top of your head, swaying the two of you side to side to the music playing in his own head. 
Queue the cheesy love song, roll the ending credits. He finally had his girl. Only this was better than a John Hugh's movie because he got to kiss you again and again and again, long after the screen faded to black.
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biancadjarin · 2 years
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love is in the air
welcome to my blog! thank you for checking it out, this is where all my unhinged thoughts can live :) all of my writing is 18+! I do not condone the reposting of my work anywhere else, but reblogs are very much appreciated!
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moonstruckme · 2 months
Note
Steve x black cat! reader pls. I feel this paring is always necessary 😌
Thanks for requesting!
Steve Harrington x black cat!reader ♡ 625 words
You glower at your boyfriend through the dark lens of your sunglasses. “Don’t come near me with that.” 
Steve smiles cajolingly, approaching with the sunscreen nonetheless. “C’mon, babe, you didn’t come out here just to sit under this umbrella all day.” 
“You know I did.” You dart your stare pointedly to where the pale rocks are growing little puddles of lake water underneath his feet. “If you come over here and drip on my book—” 
“Put the book away,” he coaxes. And he’s convincing, all shiny skin and even shinier smile and his pretty hair stuck damply to his forehead and the back of his neck. One tiny strand curls inward over the curve of his cheekbone, and you want terribly to slick it back in with the others but any affectionate gesture right now would feel too close to giving in. “Lemme put some sunscreen on you so you can come swim with the rest of us.” 
“I’m fine here.” 
“It’s really nice out there.” Steve sits down next to you like a mirror image, his hands by your feet and his feet next to your butt. “The lake’s not too cold or anything, you might like it.” 
You suck your teeth. “I’m just trying to enjoy my book, Steve.” 
He angles his head. “What, you don’t want to spend time with me?” 
You angle your head right back, deadpan. “Don’t.” 
“You know, Max really loves you,” he says, squirting a dollop of sunscreen into his hand and starting to smooth it up your calf. You wrinkle your nose at the smell. “She thinks you’re the coolest. Beats me why, but it’d probably make her week if you went out there.” You’re quiet, and he goes on, encouraged. He works the sunscreen over your knee, hands chaste and purposeful as they run the length of your thigh. “Plus, you know, you can read your book anytime, but these warm days are only gonna last so long before it’s freezing and snowy outside again.” 
“I like when it’s freezing and snowy,” you say, setting your book down on top of your bag before one of you gets sunscreen on it.
“I know, but you won’t be getting the gun show when I’m all hidden under ten layers, y’know?” 
Steve raises his eyebrows at you, and you look away from him, biting down on your smile. You feel more than see your boyfriend’s answering grin, spreading like a blight over his pretty face. He starts on your other leg. 
“And if you come hang out, I’ve got an ice cream sandwich in the cooler with your name on it.” He brushes his thumb over the side of your knee sweetly. “Been saving it for you.” 
You soften. A bit. “You could bring it to me here,” you point out. 
Steve shakes his head, frowning as if he really doesn’t know who’s making these rules and wishes he could change them for you. “Can’t, sorry. Frozen treats are only for those of us out there braving the sun.” 
You cross your arms. “You make it sound so pleasant.” 
He takes one of your arms in his hands, disentangling your defensive stance to continue slathering you in sunscreen. “It’s really not bad,” he says. “Between the ice cream and the cool water, you can pretend it’s winter if you want.” 
“Steve!” You both look out towards the lake, and Robin is waving him over. “Stop flirting with your girlfriend and come back here. We need more people to play chicken!” 
Steve gives you a pleading look. 
“I’m not getting wet,” you tell him firmly. 
He grins and takes your hand, lotion-slicked palm sliding against your own as he pulls you up. “You won’t on my team, don’t worry.”
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oracleofapollon · 11 months
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you love a lot of things in life, but you love waking up next to steve harrington more than anything else.
especially when it's a hot summer morning, stuffy air in your bedroom, a delicate wind making your curtains dance and sway.
and a golden light shining through the window straight on your boy laying next to you, still asleep, facing away from you.
he sleeps shirtless on days like these. the white covers are thrown on his legs, exposing the glowing skin of his back to you. it's tanned and looks so soft that you believe it could be pure velvet. tiny moles are splattered on his sun-kissed body, making him look like a canvas painted by a great artist, or like a sky at dusk, adorned by little stars shining through the clouds.
and his scars, reminders of one of the many fights he had to survive in the upside down. they're pink and healed, shiny on his sides, disappearing into the white of your sheets.
the sun makes him look like an angel. it suits him, you think. it melts between the strands of his chocolate hair, lighting up its strands, painting them golden blonde.
you can't help but brush your fingertips against him and you immediately feel a warmth radiating from him. his back is like if apollo himself shaped it and kissed it - warm, golden, delicate.
he stirs at your tickling, mumbles under his breath, but doesn't open his eyes. you think you may not have earned the right to see his honey eyes just yet.
and so you lean in to give his moles a kiss. one on his shoulder blade, another on this side, just above the pink scratch. one on his arm. one on his shoulder. and one on his hair...
he's all dreamy, he's what summer would be like as a person. he's daylight. he's the sun. he's honey and chocolate and sweetness, stars and scars and silk, he's laugh and desire and passion. and he's all yours.
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berryfeilds · 2 months
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𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.
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Summary- Steve now has the floor to fix your desperate attempt.
or
part two because steve is an idiot.
Warnings- reader is described with female attributes, food is mentioned (not in a triggering way), cuss words, a little angst?, VERY BAD WRITING PLEASE,
W/C- 5.4k
A/N: the long-awaited part 2 LMFAOO😭 literally quit and got lazy for the ending, and i couldn't find pics that match this fics aesthetic so. ALSO this is such a mess like be careful reading, you're gonna get confused. and i guess this could also be read as a stand-alone i think but yeah enjoy this is a literary piece of shit.
✦ Regard the links below about S5 of ST.
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Usually when the world turns to hell, you –and Hop– are the voices of reason. Leading the group to safety, planning every move and hit. Following behind you was never a question of hesitation. Trusting your judgment was never an unpopular opinion –hell even Hopper took your word when he didn’t trust himself enough to lead; and that was saying a lot. Hopper is one hell of a stubborn brick. But that goes to say you were too. And if the odds don’t yield in your favor? If the tides don’t crash onto your shore?
 The sky would fall, Steve thinks. 
You always knew what you were doing. It’s fascinating. Even if you were in the wrong, things always go your way. Following behind you never came with a side of uncertainty. He never had to think twice when seeing your determined face.
But this time, it was the visible exhaustion evident on your face that faltered him. Steve being scared to follow you had him reeling in the fact that maybe, this argument wasn’t just a fluke. 
It’s been a few weeks since that night at the pool. You’ve been radio silent and unresponsive to all the calls and ‘CODE REDs’ that Steve's been sending you. As if you've gone off grid with Murray. The second you walked out Steve sprang to his feet and ran after you to fix things, hopefully to try and hash things out and understand what it was that was so wrong. But he stopped; Refrained. His hand lingered on the door knob contemplating whether following you was a good idea or not. 
It was always a good idea. Why is it so different now? Why is everything so different nowadays?
Perhaps it's because, deep down, he was scared of the idea that you would be angry with him for loving him. It terrified him greatly. Not because the idea of being with you was dreadful –but because he was aware that his query was really wishful thinking. The picture of you ever returning his longing was too expensive, one he could never afford or win. Steve assured himself deep in his bones that your love is the one thing he could never be deserving of. But what is he to do now? 
It’s been so frustrating, especially because he’d usually go to you in these sorts of cases. You always knew everything about everyone. He’d always tease you about being a little snitch, saying you were the one to spread rumors in school. You always argued back saying you weren’t a gossip; ‘Never the rat, always the dog’ you’d say. Loyal and reliable. That’s who you were.
But obviously you’re not very reliable right now. So Steve got ready and made his way to the second most reliable person he knows.
Dustin.
“You’re fucked.”
“Alright, Sherlock, thanks for the wisdom.”  Steve exhales sarcastically before leaning back into his chair.
“No seriously Steve, I've seen her blank people for the stupidest things. She’s not gonna talk to you for at least a month by the sound of it.” Dustine purses his lips and shrugs. 
Steve groans and closes his eyes. He knew that. He knew you were the most stubborn person he’s had the luxury of befriending. Always ignoring the people who would probably waste your time, laughing at all the guys who have tried –and failed– at asking you out. I mean for fucks sake he’s been one of the people to annoy you during school with Tommy and Carol. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a fond memory.
“I know man, I just…” He opens his eyes and looks down at the table.
Dustin furrows his brows when he sees how distraught Steve looks right now. He knew the both of you were close. If he and Steve weren’t together he’d probably find him with you. You always came by the store, picked him and Steve up and dropped them off, helped Steve with all his girl problems when Robin and him were fed up. It seemed like you could never get enough of each other. You guys couldn’t be more different though; the two of you, opposite sides of the same coin, but attached by a string.
But even then, he wasn’t as worried as Steve is right now when Lucas ignored him when he stole his limited edition copy of the Swamp Thing. And he and Lucas have years of friendship on the two of you.
“It’s just, I’ve never seen her so tired. Like I've inconvenienced her with all my shit,” Steve exhales deeply as he leans his elbows on the table, rubbing his hands down his face. “Fuck, I don’t blame her if she quits talking to me for good.”
Dustin looks at his friend in sympathy, “Don’t say that dude, you just gotta charm her, it’s not the end of the world-”
“Dustin she’s not like that, man! She’s not one to be ‘charmed’, definitely not one to forgive an asshole that's been nothing but a shit friend.” The hands on his face fall down on the wood as he crossed them. 
“I fucked up. Real bad.” He quaked.
He shakes his head, as if trying to wake himself up from a bad dream. Steve knows he’s being dramatic but he can’t help it. He’s never felt so deeply about a person before. You matter to him, more than most. You’re intimidating and beautiful and so far out of his sad reach.
It takes Dustin no less than 8 Mississippi’s to understand what’s really happening. He’s had an idea in the past and teased Steve about it. The whole group thought something was going on between the two of you but they never questioned it; last time they did they got an earful from you. But Dustin remembers the way Steve’s face fell at your loud and definite “No way!”
He scrutinizes Steve for a second longer before carefully choosing his words longer. “Steve…Are you really still in love with Nancy?” 
Steve raises his eyes and peers at his friend. Was he still in love with his ex-girlfriend? He inhales deeply. Steve thinks about the time spent between the two of you. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t laugh at your quick quips or the way you tease Mike. Not an hour passes by that he doesn’t think about where you are or what you’re doing. Not a minute or second that he doesn’t think about holding your hand and pulling you close. 
But he hates that, he hates the feeling of vulnerability. It's what got him dumped by Nancy so why cherish the feeling that broke him. And it isn’t like you were very mushy about your feelings either, preferring to keep them safe and close to you. 
But by God did he feel safe with you. You were never one to meddle about with feelings, always preferring to speak your mind no matter how controversial. You were honest –and vulgar– and so outspoken, always saying what others were too scared to. He wasn’t short of your honesty either –nor your kindness. He calls –you’ll be there in 10. He needs advice? You’re writing down a thesis paper about his problems. His parents are bothering him? 
Your door is open and unlocked, baking cookies with his favorite movie rented out, waiting to be played.
Steve opens your unlocked door slowly as he walks through the small foyer. Your house is small but warmly lit, giving it a feel he’s never felt anywhere before; Home. That’s the feeling. He calls out your name as he takes his shoes off. There’s a harmonic sound playing throughout the house; To Cut A Long Story Short by Spandau Ballet. This was the mixtape he gifted you. A smile pinches at his face at the revelation.
“In the kitchen!” He hears you call from the corner. Steve’s shoulders physically relax at the honeyed voice.
He walks in routine to where you reside in the kitchen, waiting on popcorn and rolling cookies onto a tray. “Hey, trouble.”
You turn your head at the greeting, a small smile already dancing on your lips. “Stevie.” You nod your head in acknowledgement at the boy.
“What’re you doing?”
Your head turns back to the concoction of dough in front of you. “Making cookies; You’re favorite, right?”
Steve’s eyes widen slightly at your answer. You’re baking? For him? Because he was upset about his parents? Has he had anyone do something so kind? That’s a stupid question, especially as your lovely character is right in front of him. His heart warms and picks up in rate at the same time. It seems to do that a lot whenever he’s around you. 
“Yeah..” He pauses before releasing a chuckle. “You know, you’re not as tough as you look right?”
You scoff, keeping your eyes trained at the ball rolling in between your palms. “Shut it or it’ll be your head I shove into the oven.”
He laughs. After the return of his parents his face has been in a permanent scowl. But the second he’s in your area –around you– you’ve managed to flip his mood in an instance.
“Yes ma’am,” He walks to stand beside you, his back to the counter and his arms propped up behind him. “Need help?” 
The tray is half full with delicious smelling chocolate rounds. “No, it’s okay. You just sit there and look pretty.” You smirk in his direction.
“Hah, funny.” He jokes flatly.
The sound of the microwave timer rings just as you roll the last ball. “Would you get that?” You wipe your oily hands with a red kitchen rag. Steve gets up to open up the microwave. He’s hit with a wave of the salty smell of popcorn. He takes the hot bag out carefully and sets it down on the counter. His head looks around to find an empty bowl to pour the kernels into. 
After setting the tray full of soon-to-be cookies in the oven, you wish to start cleaning up. However your eyes find Steve bent down, assuming to find a bowl. Before you can go help him, he’s already on his way to stand up –before bumping his head on the edge of the counter. 
“Shit!” 
You snort before letting out a heavily mocking laugh. Steve looks at your standing form while he rubs the back of his head. “Anyone told you, you’re a sadist? Shit man.”
You giggle slightly before replying, “Once or twice, lost count.” You walk over to help him up, offering your hand out. “You hit it bad?” 
He takes your outstretched aid and climbs up. “Nah, winded me though.” His hand comes back up to rub at the spot.
“Let me check.” 
Steve watches as you step behind him. You run your fingers over the throbbing spot and massage his scalp. He completely misses the fact that you're touching his hair; No one’s allowed to touch his hair. Thank God you were behind him or you would’ve seen his face turning an embarrassing tomato red. The feeling of you behind him, chest pressed against his back while your soft, nimble fingers soothe the ache on his head has him feeling the butterflies in his stomach flaring up and tingling. His palms start to sweat from the nerves of your figure so close to him and wipes them on his jeans. Get a grip man!
“Still hurt?” Your voice speaks up behind him.
It takes a second for him to register that you’re asking him a question. “U-uh no- no, I’m okay.” He stutters out.
You spill a knowing smile. “Good.” You make your way to his line of sight again. “If you needed a bowl, you could’ve just asked.” You tease with a smirk and a quirk of your brows.
He clears his throat nervously as he watches you bend down to the left of where he was and grab a yellow bowl. “Here.” You hand it over to him. He raises his arm to take your outstretched arm. His fingers brush over yours delicately; it was electrifying. 
Your eyes flit over to his glued on you. The corners of his mouth turn up gently. “Thanks.” 
In that short moment the two of you shared, your breath was stolen. Sometimes you forget how truly handsome your friend is. And everytime you’re reminded, your heart stops. But not in an agonizing way; more like it realizes the force of feelings it’s up against. A tide so big you can’t swim your way up.
Your bodies stay still in front of each other, just staring at one another. A wave of realization washes over Steve quickly. Just for a quick second no longer –maybe because he had an idea of what exactly are the flames that envelope his body every time he’s near you, he’s just never entertained the idea. Liking you –scratch that– loving you? He’s just about throwin himself to a suicide mission. Just as the tide goes out, the insecurity settles in. 
But right now? With you looking at him with your glistening, starry eyes? As you bake his favorite dessert and take his mind off his shitty parents? He tries to amuse his scorching feelings.
Of course Steve wasn’t in love with Nancy. God why would he be when you were right there? 
He chuckles humorously, “No.” His eyes zone in on a scratch of paint on the wood. “But, there’s no way I'll hurt someone like her,” He whispers as if the mere act would stop his heart, “Someone as angelic as she is, would never soil her hands with someone like me.” He flies through the sentence, trying hard to not let the truth dig its claws further in. 
Dustin looks at his friend in sympathy. He’s unsure of what to do or say to lift up Steve’s spirits. But Steve was wrong. Stupid wrong. Dustin’s seen the way you look at Steve; Like he strung up the moon and hung every star individually. He’s seen the way you unconsciously move toward Steve when a situation grows uncomfortable. Or the way you always seem to know what Steve was feeling or thinking just with a glance. It made the group sick, really. Well, before they started dating and crushing. But what you and Steve have? It rivals the most ancient love stories; Songs that didn’t make sense before all of a sudden click with just a glance at the two of you; Romance novels written about the two of you and movies fail to show what it is truly that makes love so magical.
“Steve,” Dustin stops and looks down gloomily; Adding to the dramatic pause, “I’ve never met someone more brainless and thick-headed than you.” Steve’s head shoots up, his face offended and ready to defend himself. “What?-”
“I mean seriously, did you inhale some hair spray this morning? You’re more stupid than usual –and that’s saying a lot.” 
Steve’s brows continue to furrow in offense as the insults carry out. “Okay ditz, what’re you on about?-”
“She loves you, you idiot!”
Silence over takes the room like a bad plague. A ringing sound fills his ears as his widen eyes take in his friend. Before he lets out a laugh. Dustin’s determined face controls into one of confusion. “W-what are you laughing at?” Steve continues his heaved breaths. “Steve!”
“I’m sorry-” He wheezes. “I’m sorry but, aren't you supposed to be a genius?” He inhales deeply and regains himself. It was Dustin’s turn to be offended. 
“I’m freaking serious man! Anyone with eyes can see how much she loves you!” 
Steve rolls his eyes indecorously. “Cupid, listen-”
“No you listen!”
There's a moment of staggered silence before Dustin continues. “Holy shit do you ever shut up? Better yet– Do you ever stop and think twice before you speak? The whole reason you’re in this mess is because you’re a coward –a chicken; You talk all this big talk about getting all the ladies and scoring dates but, have you ever thought that the reason you’re going on these –stupid dates– is to distract yourself?” Dustin doesn’t give him half a second to reply- “No you didn’t, just like you don’t think before talking to the love of your life.” Dustin’s blazing because at this point he’s just spilling over words. He needs to end it, shove the knife a little deeper for the act to end. 
“She’s hurt Steve. You hurt her.” Steve stiffens at the confession. “So are you going to do something about it, or are you going to sit her brooding like a James Dean wannabe?”
Steve bites his bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood as he contemplates his choices. He’s spent the better half of your friendship in agonizing longing, hoping –looking– for a sign. Anything that tells him or shows him that you might return the painful ache in his chest. Oh how he burned for you; ablaze with every touch and stare. But just as the oceans glisten, you somehow always smother the fire. He wonders what it means: the fact that you never let him destroy himself. It was different with everyone else. With Nancy he was practically left in smithereens; everyone else never bothered to tend to the fire. But you? You could always tell when he was about to boil over. Just on the verge of a major spill. You were healthy, and observant. Always managing his outbursts with careful and slow movements. Throwing water just as his temper tipped over the edge.
 He needs to be your water. He needs to be there for you, just like you’ve always done. Like you always do.
Steve slams his hands on the table in tenacity. The action startled Dustin as he looked at a new man in front of him. “I’m gonna do something about it-” 
Dustin stands up with the same amount of fervor and nods his head proudly. “Yeah, yeah!”
“I’m gonna fix this!” Steve pumps his hands excitedly by his side. Dustin copies Steve and slams his hands on the table. “Hell yeah, you are!” Dustin drums the table hysterically as if possessed with the spirit of John Bonham.
Steve whoops and yells running around the dining room. Dustin –just as excited– slaps his back whenever he passes. “I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna fix this– I’m going to tell her!” 
Dustin’s just about ready to start calling everyone he knows to celebrate. Shit he feels like his mom. Steve’s already by the door slipping on his shoes. “Go get your girl Steve!” He grins, his dimple showing. Steve turns around just as he’s about out the door, and sends a confident, full toothed smile back.
••••••
You were lounging around on your couch eating a bowl of cereal when you heard the sound of a knock on your door. You place the bowl down and make your way to the wooden slab. It’s been a few days since the constant calls and house visits from Steve stopped so you were hopeful that he didn’t pick up his new favorite hobby again. The weeks that followed the argument were quiet. You didn’t realize how much of your time was spent with Steve and the group. You assumed Steve told the rest of them about your vow to silence when Nancy and Robin showed up with bags of snacks and a rented out movie, talking about a ‘girls day’. You were hesitant at first. Yes they were your friends –but they were also Steves. Nancy, ever the empath noticed your predicament and reassured you they were on your side. You let them in reluctantly; quickly changing to gratefulness when you realized how much fun you were having. It quickly became a routine between the three of you. The two of them however kept this a secret for your sake and it added to the appreciation. You were all getting so close and it was nice. All your time being spent with Steve had you missing out on getting to really know who they were. Nancy even confided in you about her problems with Jonathan; the distance and indifference. You understood her and even tried helping her, it was lovely. And Robin was just a breath of fresh air, her jokes and childish attitude gives you space to not be so tough all the time. You even find yourself doubled over laughing at her ridiculous quips during your weekly watches. It was fun, having friends to take your mind off things.
You open your door assuming to see either girl but you’re met with a bent down flop of hair breathing heavily.
“Steve?” You questioned in slight worry. “You okay?”
Your name gets called out in a deep wheeze. He stands up right as he takes in a couple of deep breaths.
“Listen– I know that you’re mad –believe me I’ve had my fair share of people calling me a jackass– but I want to make it right.” He gazes at you desperately. “Please.”
You rip your eyes away from his face as you think about your choices. It’s been a long time since the argument, and to be completely honest you were kind of over it. Just as Nancy confined in you; You fessed up and revealed the true nature of your and Steve's fight. To say the least Nancy wasn't impressed, nor was she amused. You thought she was going to be mad –or even excited– but you were met with a lecture: “If you believe a word out of Steve's mouth; my judgment of you has got to change.” She joked. “We even have bets going on to see how long the two of you would last.”
You thought she was absurd, denying everything she said –even though it made sense– you would never tell her that though. But her words ring around in your head like little cartoon birds. ‘Give it a shot. Be vulnerable.’ She coaxed. If shit goes wrong you are so taking that Rumors CD.
You prodded your cheek with your tongue before replying. “Get in.”
He lets out a grateful huff of air, one he was holding in. “Thank you.” You widen up the open door and let the boy in. He looks odd with hands fiddling together, like a scolded child standing in your walkway. He hazily remembers the night he walked into your house for the impromptu movie night. He ignores the voice in his head that nags: ‘This might not work’.
“You want something to drink?” You speak monotonously.
He snaps out of his reverie. Now's not the time to freeze.
“Uh- yeah- yes please, water.” He follows you to the kitchen
The tension is palpable, and it’s making Steve awfully nervous. Your back is facing towards him as you open the faucet and let it run before placing a glass cup underneath the stream. The memory comes back again, fast. He tries to find the comfort he once felt the last time he stepped in your house. Somehow it never left.
You leave the sink with a cold cup of water in your hand. He takes it from your wet hands softly, taking extra precaution not to graze your fingers. Steve quietly mumbles your name as you wipe your damp hands on the same red rag. You rip your eyes away from the distraction and set them on Steve.
“I..How are you?” He gulps.
You take a deep breath before replying. “Fine. You?”
“Good, good.” He nods his head as he rubs his thumb across his bottom lip and chin. A habit he does when he’s nervous.
You wrap your arms around your body protectively in hopes of perhaps shielding you away from the inevitable conversation. “Cut to the chase Harrington.” You grunted exasperatedly.
“I know I know! I just...Need to find the right words. I don’t wanna mess this up.” He whispered the last part but still audible enough for you to hear him. You always do.
“Mess what up? It was just a silly argument-” You furrow your brows in confusion.
“No it wasn’t! Nothing about it was silly –nothing about us is silly!” He exclaimed. 
Your eyebrows fly to the top of your forehead. “Wha-”
He says your name in the same manner, “I’ve been an idiot. A complete and utter douchebag –but you know that so what's new.” He chuckles in a strangled tone, voice wobbly while he rubs his palms. You stood quiet as he took the microphone.
“The night at the pool wasn’t a mistake. It was everything I needed to open my eyes, to see how much of an idiot I’ve been. You…” Steve takes a second to gather his thoughts. To gather you into words. “Are everything. All the praying and wishing on stars to find someone who understood me. Who I can sit in silence with and it not feel excruciatingly uncomfortable. You’ve given me a home within a person.”
He’s staring into your eyes now with a feeling you can’t quite understand. But he strides gingerly towards your frame and unravels your arms, and holds your warm hands. You’re still observing him with very large eyes. 
He’s being vulnerable?
He says your name is such confidence, totally different to the little boy who was just standing in your walkway all fidgety. “I cannot imagine a life with you not being there to yell at all the stupid people, especially the ones who miraculously passed their driving test.” This steals a little giggle from your shocked state. Steve continues. “There’s so much more to this but,” He pauses and closes his eyes while he inhales deeply. “I am not in love with Nancy.” He says. "And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for the things I said. You were trying to help me –like always– and I was just being a dick. I’m so sorry.”
Hope fills your being and it’s suffocating, you question if you even like it. He’s speaking with such softness it equals the spring wind and with incredible certainty it rivals the most stubborn aristocrats. 
“Huh, isn’t that something.” You choke up. Steve questions if he heard you. He did. He always does when it comes to you.
“Yeah it is.” he replies with a small smile and a pull with his interlocked hands, bringing you closer. 
“You’ve been my calm in this shit storm and I’ve been an idiot to not realize that the only person I ever needed,” He stops for what you believe is for dramatic effect, “Was you. It's always been you. So in some way I was hoping to maybe be the calm in your life.” 
Steve releases a shy grin and squeezes your hands in his lengthy ones before finishing his profession. He says your name one last time before- “I am an idiot. And that’s been proven to be true more times than we can count on our fingers. But I think the time that solidified it was when I tried convincing myself that I didn’t love you.”
You think your eyes are about to bulge out their sockets at the confession. He…loved you?
“Me?”
He gives you a knowing look. “I’m sorry, do you have a secret twin I don’t know about? Is this some shitty sequel to The Parent Trap?”
“Steve.”
“Sorry sorry.”
It’s taking a lot from you to swallow this huge pill. You’ve spent this whole time convincing yourself that he didn’t love you. That he couldn’t ever fathom thinking about you in a romantic sense. Now here he is, standing in front of you with his cheeky smile and bright eyes, telling you he loves you. You start to blink excessively, feeling the tsunami of tears advancing fast. God you hate crying, but maybe you’ll allow it this time. If Steve was an idiot, you better expect a simpleton of the year award in the mail soon. You feel the blobs of tears in front of your orbs as they start to fall down one by one.
This obviously panics Steve, you would rather stick forks in your eyes than cry. 
“Oh my god, shit, was it something I said? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to throw all of this at your face.” Steve is running around your kitchen to find tissues or a towel before he promptly kicks the table and drops the glass of water. “Shit! Shit shit shit!”
Tears forgotten when you start laughing jovially at the scene. You wipe your cheeks with knuckles as you breathe sharply.
“Steve.” You call out to his erratic form.
“I’m so sorry angel, this is a mess, I’ll fix it and then leave-”
“Steve.”
“I will buy you a whole new cup –scratch that– I’ll buy you whole brand new kitchen set-”
“Steve!”
He stops the run around the kitchen and stares at you and sees the teary smile you’re beautifully wearing. He gulps, “Yes?” He replies, still out of breath.
“I love you too.” You drag a finger furiously under your eye trying to stop the water works.
“Oh.” He croaks
“Yeah.”
“That’s, uh, that’s good, amazing actually, uh really great –hey stop doing that to your face.” He approaches you and draws your criminal hands away from your face in a caring manner. He replaces your angry fingers with his calloused ones, collecting your happy tears. You let him take care of you, caressing along the apples of your cheeks in content. 
Steve’s buzzing with overwhelming love for you. He ponders how he lasted so long lying to himself. He wonders how long he’s spent hurting you, trying to forget the absolute force of beauty and grace you are. You were there from the start, in front of him with all your anger and unconditional kindness –that he didn’t deserve– but you still chose to stay. And fuck if he messes this second chance? He can’t think of a way to thank the considerate hand that’s giving him this fortune.
He holds your glowing face in his nurturing hands and gazes into your starry eyes. “Does this mean you forgive me?”
You laugh delightfully and Steve thinks it’s the most wonderful music to his ears. “No. You’re lucky I even let you into my house.”
“Mhmm I am very lucky.” He teased cockily.
“You know you have a lot to make up for?” You say say woefully.
“All that wasted time and you think I haven’t started planning yet? Trouble, c’mon.” He tilts his head.
“Well, you are a little scatter-brained so.” You purse your lips.
“Hey!”
You shrug mockingly as his hands stay glued to your face. “It’s what you get for hurting me.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be making it up to you until death grabs me by the throat.”
Steve can’t believe his eyes right now, you, standing in front of him, willing to forgive him. He’s sure he can die happy right now.
“Hey, I’m gonna try and do something, and you can stop me at any time –hit me, or slap me– I won’t even squeak.” His fingers travel to hold your jaw, thumbs close to your bottom lip. 
You nod inquisitively. “Alright, alright, we’ll crucify you if need be.”
His face is dull at your poor joke.
Steve lingers for a moment before he leisurely leans in close to your awaiting lips. First warning comes when the both of you are a breath away. “Everything okay?” He whispers.
“Mhm.”
The next comes when the tips of your noses are brushing against each other; a shy eskimo kiss. “Still okay?” In a timid manner you close your eyes. Steve admires how your lashes kiss your cheeks.
Your consent comes in the guise of an easy nod.
Then comes the time of the hour. Your lips were smooth and sweet, nothing like he could ever imagine in his wildest dreams. The kiss has both of your heart beats jumping around like monkeys. You feel like you’re gonna pass out; he’s so warm and his skin is stinging with shots of happiness. There were few times in your life you ever felt light headed, but this? This takes the cake. It feels like blowing out your birthday candles, and the after smell of the wax. It feels like summer, dipping your overheated head into the cold ocean, feeling your scalp chill. It feels like wiping soft buttercream off your lips and submerging your frosted finger into your mouth, tasting the sweet cream. It feels like everything
The both of you pull away for much needed oxygen –but in both of your opinions you could have gone without it– and just stare at each other. “You okay?” He wipes the wet off your lips.
“Fine.” You nod dumbly.
Steve gives you a small smile, fondness oozing out of his expressions. “Good.”
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hellfirebabe666 · 2 months
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I Don't Love You Like I Did
Reader and ModernDay!Steve grow apart after being together for 2 years (Told for perspective of reader. No mention of gender or use of y/n) WARNINGS: Just angst overall WORD COUNT: 4.4k o.o
It started with minor things. We would text each other every morning a good morning greeting before discussing briefly how we were and what our days had ahead of us. Now his messages were short and scattered and sometimes unanswered, but I chalked it up to the fact that he was stressed with work and a recent new position he got into.
Then when we would go out on dates he stopped holding my hand unless I happened to slip my hand in his and even then it was different his grip loose and scarce and barely there. Lifeless. It was another stab in the heart, but we continued like normal. Speaking to each other like nothing was wrong.
But we both knew there was something terribly wrong. We were drifting far apart like ships passing in the night. When it had been several months since we were last intimate I felt like I did something wrong. Steve was usually the one who initiated a lot of intimate contact, but for some reason it started shifting and it was like he was on autopilot and his mind was elsewhere entirely and it scared me.
Steve came into my life at such a weird crossroads and he helped me come into my own and really build myself back up from such a dark place that still creeps in to the edges of my psyche but is better controlled and bay. But now the man that means the most to me is pulling away from me and I don't even think I have a way of stopping it.
I finally decide to bite the bullet and talk to him after we made plans to watch movies at his which was our go to stay in date night. I settled on the bed with him and laid my head on his chest to which he lightly rested on hand over my arm for some minor contact but he made no effort to wrap his arms around me like he used to. I felt like bursting into tears, but I had to put on a brave face. I had to speak.
"Steve?" I lift my head up and sit up to look at him. He eyes me curiously, "What's going on, sweetheart?" His eyes scan over my features noting the crease in my brow and how I gnaw at my lip trying to will the words out of my mouth to speak about how this whole situation has made me feel and finding out where we stood. "Is there..." I sigh trying to gather the words, "I just...I want to know if there was something that was bothering you, or something that I did to hurt you, you'd tell me right?"
Steve looked taken aback at first but I think he also saw this conversation coming along at some point. He sat up and moved to press his back against the headboard as he spoke, "Of course. And there's nothing you did wrong. And there's nothing bothering me I promise you." He tried to lie but he knew I could see right through it. He was easy to read especially when he lied.
"Please be honest with me, Steve. The last few months...I just," my voice begins to waver as tears form in my eyes, "I just want...to know if we're okay. Because you're not acting the same and it's scaring me. You barely even touch me, Steve." I say the last part in almost a whisper but he heard it and he knew it was true. And if he was honest with himself he really didn't have an explanation for it. It was nothing I really did or said. It was just people growing up and growing apart, at least that's how he saw it.
"Sweetheart...I-" He has a hard time looking at me his gaze flickering down to his hands as he spoke, "It's nothing you did. You've been an absolute angel, but I...just don't feel it anymore. I care for you I do, but I just..." and he trails off words caught in his throat and tears spring from my eyes streaking down my cheeks, "You don't love me anymore..." I whisper letting it settle in.
Steve's head hung as he watched me crumble in front of him and it broke his heart because he know he's the cause, but he needed to speak his true feelings. He couldn't keep me stuck in a relationship where he couldn't return the feelings I had. "I'm sorry, honey. I really am. I don't want to hurt you. I still care about you I do," He says as he tries to move closer to me and brush the tears from my eyes but I flinch away feeling myself shake as tears continue to pour from my eyes.
"I'm gonna go," I whisper standing up and grabbing my purse and the cardigan I had discarded on the side. Steve looked at me like a kicked puppy taking pure pity on me as I shuffled my way to the door. "Goodbye, Steve. I...I hope You can find someone who is worthy of your love," I say with a frown and make my way out the door and rushing to my car speeding away back to my apartment. My heart was shattered beyond repair.
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vilentia · 1 year
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Learning to Love Again
Steve Harrington x reader
Inspired by this post @forevermoreharrington
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Steve had always been the life of the party. With his charming smile and quick wit, he could make anyone feel at ease. But behind that confident exterior, he was hiding a deep insecurity that he had never quite been able to shake.
Steve had always been a romantic at heart. He loved the idea of being in a relationship, of sharing his life with someone special. But every time he tried to get close to someone, it always seemed to backfire.
In his early relationships, Steve would try to be affectionate and attentive, showering his partner with compliments and gifts. But he quickly learned that not everyone appreciated his brand of romance. Some of his partners would pull away, telling him that he was being too intense or that he needed to give them space.
This rejection hurt Steve deeply. He couldn't understand why his efforts to show his love were being met with such resistance. As a result, he began to hold back, to keep his feelings to himself for fear of scaring his partner away.
But even that didn't work. His partners would accuse him of being distant, of not being emotionally available. Steve couldn't win. It seemed like no matter what he did, he always managed to push his partners away.
But then he met you.
From the moment you first smiled at him, Steve felt something shift inside of him. It was a small gesture, just a quick flash of teeth, but for Steve, it was like a bolt of lightning had struck him. He couldn't explain why, but he felt an instant connection to you. Maybe it was the way your eyes crinkled at the corners, or the way your hair fell in soft waves around your face. Whatever it was, Steve was hooked. It was as if all of his insecurities melted away in your presence. You were so warm and open, so eager to be close to him, that he couldn't help but be drawn to you.
At first, it was scary for Steve. In the early days of your relationship, Steve was almost overwhelmed by the sheer amount of affection you showed him. It was like a dam had burst, and suddenly he was being showered with love and attention in a way that he had never experienced before.
At first, he was a little unsure of how to respond. He would feel himself tense up when you reached for his hand or leaned in for a kiss. He wasn't used to this level of physical intimacy, and it took him some time to get comfortable with it.
But you were patient with him. You could tell that he was struggling, and you didn't want to push him too hard too fast. So you started small, with gentle touches and soft kisses. You let Steve set the pace, always waiting for him to take the lead. But as time went on, he began to relax into your touch, to let himself be vulnerable with you in a way that he never had before. He found himself craving your touch, yearning for the warmth of your body next to his. He loved the way you would run your fingers through his hair, tracing lazy patterns on his scalp. It was like all of the walls he had built up around himself were starting to crumble.
And then there were the kisses. Steve had never been much of a public display of affection kind of guy, but with you, he couldn't resist. He loved the way you would pull him in for a kiss in the middle of the street, not caring who saw you. It was like you were telling the world that he was yours, and he loved the possessiveness of it.
You would stay up late talking, laughing at each other's jokes and sharing stories about your lives. You would hold hands as you walked down the street, fingers intertwined in a way that felt like you were meant to be together.
And whenever Steve would start to feel that old familiar pang of insecurity, you were always there to reassure him. You would tell him how much you adored him, how much you loved being close to him, how you could never imagine being with anyone else.
It was one of those nights, lying in bed together, that you finally said the words that Steve had been waiting to hear.
"I love you," you whispered, your voice soft and sweet.
Steve's heart skipped a beat. He had wanted to say those words to you for so long, but he had been too afraid of scaring you away. Now, as he looked into your eyes, he knew that he had nothing to fear.
"I love you too," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I've loved you since the moment I met you, but I was too scared to say it. I didn't want to mess things up."
You reached out to stroke his hair, your fingers trailing softly over his scalp.
"You could never mess things up with me," you said, your voice filled with sincerity. "I'm here for you, always."
And as Steve held you close, he knew that he had finally found the person who could chase away his insecurities, who could make him feel loved and cherished in a way that he had never thought possible. With you by his side, he knew that he could face anything that life threw his way.
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The Battle of Starcourt Mall
pairing: steve harrington x female byers!reader
WC: 6.8K
warnings: cursing, blood. think that’s it…
summary: the final boss level
A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG -The Byers Harrington Story-
so what i’ve decided to do is stop this chapter after the fire and since the last like ten minute take place three months later i’ve decided to use that for my in betweens. kinda weird ik BUT THIS IS MY FIC I DO AS I PLEASE!!!!
@alecmores​ 🫶🏻 the best proofreader
series masterlist / steve harrington
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It was a scene from a horror movie.
Tears of blood dripped from El’s nose as she continued her wails of pain, her screams filling the empty mall. Beneath the skin of her injured leg, something squirmed restlessly. It pushed at her flesh, trying to break to the surface and it was only making her cry and squeeze Mike’s hand tighter.
“What is that?” Erica leaned in for an inspection. “There’s something in there.” Was Mike’s simple answer. 
El screamed higher, “No!” “Jesus Christ,” A mutter from Dustin’s lips.
Jonathan pushed off the floor and talked over El’s vocals, “Keep her talking. Keep her awake, okay?” And he ran off to the food court.
El’s chest was panting slower and her eyes blinked slowly a few times. Mike started to shake her shoulder, “Hey, hey, hey. Stay awake, stay awake.” He looked to Dustin for assistance, “Let’s get her on this side, on this side.”
Nancy and Steve rushed to aid their help, El now leaning her back on Mike’s chest. “You know, it’s not actually that bad,” Robin spoke for the first time after five minutes, a new record for her. “There was a… The goalie on my soccer team, Beth Wildfire, this other girl slid into her leg and the bone came out of her knee. Six inches or something, it was insane.” Everyone’s eyes were on her, wondering why she was telling this story.
“Robin,” Steve called her. “Yeah?” She breathly exhaled as she looked at him. “You’re not helping.” “I’m sorry.”
You looked up when Jonathan came rushing back, his sneakers squeaking on the polished tiles. He held a kitchen knife and a wooden spoon in his left hand. “Okay. Alright, El?” A courtesy question. “This is gonna hurt like hell, okay?”
Her sobs shook her petite frame, “Okay,” Wrapped in snot and tears.
“Need you to stay real still.” He used the calm adult voice that he pulled on you and Will if either of you got hurt. He slipped flimsy prep gloves on his dormant hand. “Here, you’re gonna want to bite down on this okay?” Passing the spoon into Mike’s outstretched hand and he placed it between her teeth as she bit hard.
Jonathan held the knife and lowered it slowly to the wound. “Holy shit. Holy shit.” Dustin repeated as Jonathan sank the sharp point into her infected wound. Her screams were still loud even with her mouth muffled. 
“I’m gonna be sick,” Talking to yourself with sweaty hands holding the queasiness inside. Steve’s larger stature blocked the gruesome sight from your tired eyes. A hand pushing your face into his chest. The noises, El’s screams, and sobs mixed with everyone’s gasps or whines echoed in your eardrums. You couldn’t see what was happening after the cut was made, but it wasn’t any better. Nancy screamed Jonathan’s name and he yelled back, “Stop talking! God damn it!”
Then El’s cracked and tired voice, “No! Stop it!” Grunts followed with a whimper, “I can do it.”
You moved your head when everything grew silent. You were still tucked into Steve as you watched El sit up and stretched out her right arm over the bleeding wound. Her arm shook from all the energy that was being spent from her, all eyes watching as she hurt herself. Her screams grew in volume as the unknown was wiggling away from her telepathic grasp. They grew loud in frustration that the lights flickered and the glass from Levi’s display shattered to pieces, Steve turned your body away from the specks.
With some more steam power, El was able to grip the unknown and tug it out of her body. It was a small thing, almost looking like charred flesh as she held it in front of her face. With a grunt she threw it a foot away, all of you just watching as it slowly crawled further away. No one made a move to finish the job as you were all stunned when Hopper stomped a giant black boot hard into the creature.
And there stood an odd trio. Joyce, Hopper, and some bushy-bearded balding man (who was dressed in some short shorts) you didn’t know.
Only took one minute max before your brain kicked into gear. You untangled yourself from Steve’s protective hold and took one, two, three hesitant steps as you croaked, “Mom?” She moved away from the taller men and you rushed forward into her open arms. You almost knocked her over with the force of missing her touch and gentle pets.
“Oh, my sweet girl.” She shushed you and held you tight. Salty tears webbed your lashes together and marked her flannel top. You almost worried she was a mirage, a figment of your tired and bruised brain to keep you calm in a stressful moment. But she was real, you could tell by the way she held you tighter and tucked her face into your neck.
“I’ve missed you.” A whispered confession. “I’ve missed you too, honey. I’ve missed you too.”
Her hands grabbed your upper arms and pulled you away, motherly touches pushed loose hair and flyaways. Her palms cupped your cheeks like you were fine china as she examined your Russian party gifts. “What happened to my beautiful girl?
Your bottom lip wobbled as you joked, “Russian bullies. It’s been a long day, Mom.” Her open brown eyes started to gloss over with wet tears and you couldn’t have that. So you jumped to ask, “Where- Where have you been? And-” You looked over her shoulder to look at the unknown man beside Hopper, “-Who is that man?”
Her tangled curls swung with the motion of her head while peeking at the men and then back to you, “Oh, uh… Also Russian stuff.” You couldn't help the high raise of your mouth as you sputtered, “Wh-What? More Russians?”
“Uh…Why don’t we all go sit down? All of us and just go over everything.”
-
“The Mind Flayer built this monster in Hawkins, to stop El, kill her, and pave a way into our world,” Mike spoke with his hands while giving the simple details of the events leading up to tonight for their group. Nancy also pitched in, “And it almost did. That was just one tiny piece of it.”
Everyone congregated by the turned-off fountain, standing in a circle. Hopper and El sat on the wooden bench beside the structure as he held a wet paper towel to her forehead and she sipped quietly on her straw. Joyce sat next to her as she rewrapped the wound closed. And even though you knew the time wasn’t right for couple displays, you couldn’t help but sink into Steve’s arms as he held you to his chest. His chin rested at the crown of your head as you held his hands in their infinity hold.
“How big is this thing?” Hopper asked. His eyes checked over El as Jonathan answered “It’s big. Thirty feet, at least.”
“Jesus,” You whispered just imagining something that huge. Probably takes up the whole space of the mall where you’re all talking. “It sorta destroyed your cabin,” Lucas tacked on. You heard the deep sigh from Hopper and Lucas’, “Sorry.”
“Okay, so, just to be clear,” Steve’s chest vibrated into your back with his talking, “This… This big fleshy spider thing that hurt El, it’s some kind of gigantic…weapon?” Your scalp tingles from the movement of his chin.
“Yes,” Nancy replied quickly. Her features turned a bit annoyed and you wanted to get defensive with her. But Steve continued to ask his question about this…fleshy monster. “But instead of, like, screws and metal, the Mind Flayer made its weapon… with melted people.”
“Yes, exactly.” Her permed hair hits her face. You felt Steve shrug his shoulders, “Yeah, okay. I- Yeah, I’m just making sure.” He tugged you even closer into his body. You gave his hands three squeezes.
“Are we sure this thing is still out there, still alive?” Joyce questioned. “El beat the shit out of it,” Max pointed out, “But, yeah, it’s still alive.” Disappointed evident in her tone.
“But if we close the gate again-” “We cut the brain off from the body.” “And kill it. Theoretically.” Will, Max, then Lucas finished the single train of thought.
Everyone went quiet again. They were probably thinking of the next plan of action, the attack plan to bring the demon to the ground. You were just hearing white noise and staring blankly at all the different shoes as you tried to blanket Steve over you. You were so close to the end, you had to keep reminding yourself about that, it’ll be all over tonight and everything can go back to its relative normal.
A loud shout of, “Yoo-hoo!” Bounced in the empty space followed by paper rustling. Steve turned the both of you at an angle to see that the mystery man, Murray, was waving yellow papers in the air. He bypassed the group and stopped in front of the dining table as he slammed the papers down. He looked over his shoulder and frantically waved his arms while yelling, “Class! Over here! Over here!” And everyone internally groaned as you took the short trip.
You stuck near the back, Steve leaning over your shoulder as the both of you looked down at the lined paper to try and make sense of the drawing before your eyes.
“Okay, this is what Alexei called “the hub”.” You wanted to ask who this Alexei was but stayed quiet. “Now, the hub takes us to the vault room.” Murray slid his finger down the drawn path.
“Okay, where’s the gate?” Hopper inquired. Murray took a moment before, “Right here.” Pointing at a different section on the paper map. “I don’t know the scale on this, but I think it’s fairly close to the vault room, maybe fifty feet or so.” Dragging his pointer finger from end to end.
“More like five hundred.” Erica’s snarky voice stopped the adults as she walked toward them. “What, you’re just gonna waltz in there like it’s commie Disneyland or something?”
You noted the raise of Hopper’s brows at Erica’s tone and Murray vocally asked, “I’m sorry, who are you?” “Erica Sinclair. Who are you?” Sassying the bald man back. His expression was plain and simple as he said his first and last name.
“Listen, Mr. Bunman,” Purposely mispronounces his last name, “I’m not trying to tell you how to do things, but I’ve been down that shithole for twenty-four hours.” Turning away from Murray and directly looking into Hopper’s eyes, “And with all due respect, you do what this man tells you, you’re all gonna die.” Hopper’s brows scrunched in the middle.
You would say she’s exaggerating, but knowing what was down there, they didn’t know what they could be walking into. Their schematics were just based on one person’s view, not knowing the actual distance from room to room. So yeah, they would be in danger.
“I’m sorry, why is this four-year-old speaking to me?” “Um, I’m ten, you bald bastard!”
“Erica!” Both you and Lucas called for her to stop. Shocked by all this language she most likely learned from the boys. “Just the facts!” Defending herself to her brother.
“She’s right.” Dustin stepped beside her, taking her side. “You’re all gonna die, but you don’t have to. Excuse me. Sorry, may I?” Pointing at Murray’s paper. The man flashed a sarcastic smile and shook his head with a, “Please,” Tacked on.
Dustin and Erica took a seat at the table, Dustin grabbing a pen from his pocket and pointing at a square box. “Okay, see this room here? This is a storage facility.” He circled it. “There’s a hatch in here that feeds into their underground ventilation system.” He then took the pen and drew a line to the over end of the paper, “That will lead you to the base of the weapon.”
“Wait, sorry.” Suddenly speaking up, eyes on you. “Was this where the two of you went when we got taken?” Just needed clarification. “Duh,” Was Erica’s only answer. “Okay. Continue.” Stepping into Steve’s chest, his arms thrown over your stomach.
“It’s a bit of a maze down there, but between me and Erica, we can show you the way.” Full seriousness in Dustin’s words as the two nodded together.
“You can show us the way?” The tone of voice he used was a mix of confusion and amusement. Two kids acting all high and mighty with more information than the adults. Dustin held a hand towards Hop, “Don’t worry, you can do all the fighting and the dangerous hero shit, and we’ll just be your… navigators.”
One nod of his head before a simple, “No,” fell from his lips. And this was exactly the reason you wanted Hopper to know about this from the beginning. “Nope.” A second confirmation at the two before he walked away. You were so happy you didn’t have to be the adult in the situation anymore.
Everyone split up into their different groups until it was time to fully split up. You, Robin, and Steve walked to Hut Sam. All of you hopped onto the counter, Robin with her legs crossed as she held her ankles and leaned her head to the wall. You and Steve sat near the end with your legs mindlessly kicking the air, Steve’s left hand in your grasp as you played with his fingers, specifically his marriage finger.
“Hey,” The single word ghosted your ear. At normal speed, you moved your attention away from his rough hand and moved your eyes onto his damaged face. Your right hand moved to touch the side of the swollen eye, the pads of your fingers touching him as if he was fine china. One wrong move and he’ll break into millions of tiny pieces. “Oh, my Stevie.”
He moved his head quickly so he could plant a lingering kiss on the heel of your hand before fully leaning into your touch. “I’m sorry. Again. For this.” He slipped two fingers under the hem of your shorts, his thumb sat on the scratchy material. 
“I forgive you.” At this point you truly do. It seemed no matter what you could have done, the horrors of Hawkins will always find a way to pull your group of family back into its pull. “I just… I just want you to listen to me. How I’m feeling when it comes to getting involved. Don’t disregard my feelings, you and I, along with everyone, have some sort of trauma they’ve taken from this. And you might hide it or joke about it, but you know I suffer because of it every day or night.”
Steve made sure he was looking directly into your eyes, his hand holding your thigh. “I know, I will. I got swept up in- in- I don’t even know. But if you need to, slap me, hit me, yell at me. Anything to make sure it gets through my thick skull, I don’t want to be the cause of your pain and sadness.”
Both of you sat in silence, hands touching any space of skin. You moved your hand from his cheek and used your thumb and index finger to hold Steve’s chin and pull him to you. It was a press of chapped lips before it moved to a slow dance that ended too short for comfort. Steve gave a quick peck before fully leaning away, a pleasant smile as he was bathed in the neon of pink and purple.
“Lovebirds!” Your heads snapped in the direction of the shout. Dustin waved a hand frantically and you both knew it meant there was a mission to be conducted. Steve moved first and grabbed your hand to pull you behind him. Dustin threw a set of keys that Steve was able to catch mid-air, “What’s this for?”
“Car out front,” Hopper stated. Dustin, Erica, and Robin were already heading in the direction of the front doors before the two of you caught up. You yelled, “See you later!” To everyone you were leaving behind.
Steve pushed the door open and then whistled, “Oh, man, now this… this is what I’m talkin’ about!” Excited about the open cruiser.
“Toddfather?” Robin questioned as the both of you spotted the license plate. You grimaced while walking to the passenger side. “Oh, screw Todd! Steve’s her daddy now.” He jumped into the driver's seat while you processed his words.
“Did you just talk about yourself in the third person?” “Did he just call himself daddy?” Robin and Erica are questioning your boy. You still needed to process the way Steve called himself daddy.
“Ew, gross. (Y/n), you better not be into that.” Robin whacked your shoulder from behind. You could only shake your head.
“All right, where are we going?” Steve turned the engine on. “Weathertop,” Dustin said over his shoulder. Steve turned in his seat, “Weather-what?”
“Just drive!” “Okay. Jesus!”
Steve threw his arm behind your seat and reversed the car before changing to drive and speeding out of the empty parking lot.
-
You weren’t sure how long the drives had been so far, but you know you’re far away from Starcourt now. The wind was wiping your sweaty hair into knots, smacking your eyes, and getting stuck in your mouth. Steve had a radio station turned to twenty, loud enough over the howling wind.
“Jesus, how far is this place, man?” Steve’s hands squeezed and loosened the leather steering wheel.
“Relax. We’re almost there.” Was Dustin’s only answer to Steve’s question. The older boy sighed and you noted the quick eye roll before he stepped hard down on the gas. Car going ninety in a sixty-five.
“Suzie must be pretty special, huh?” Robin shouted over the different sounds to talk to Dustin. “I mean, if you built this thing and lugged it all the way to the middle of nowhere just to talk to her?”
You turned in your seat, left side pressed to the leather so you could see everyone in the backseat. Robin is in the middle with the two kids on either side.
Dustin grinned at the mention of his Suzie. “I mean, nobody’s scientifically perfect, but Suzie’s about as close to being perfect as any human could possibly be.” And the sweet answer made you coo at the young ‘love’.
“She sounds made up to me,” Erica added her two cents. “Does she sound made up to you?” The words pointed at Steve then you.
“No, of course not!” Quickly saying your answer, even if you still weren’t one hundred percent. Steve stayed quiet as he looked your way and into the rearview mirror. As discreetly as you can, you backhanded his outer thigh.
“Why are you hesitating, Steve?” Dustin leaned forward. “I’m- I’m- I’m not! I’m not!” Shifting his hands, one on the wheel and the other in the air flinging about. “I think she sounds real. You know, totally, absolutely real.”
He looked your way and you widened your eyes to silently communicate, “Really?” Your scrutinizing of Steve’s words was shut off when Dustin shouted, “Left. Turn left.”
“There’s not a road here.” Nothing but fields of grass. But Dustin was insisting, “Turn left now!”
“Jesus! Hang on!” Steve’s right hand held your thigh as he turned the wheel sharply on his left. Everyone was thrown from the quick force and then jolted from the bumpy road and the wired fence the car drove through.
“Whoa! Henderson, where are we going?!” “Up!”
The radio song was fitting with the lyrics syncing to the situation. The car was going up a steep hill and it was slow as it got higher.
“Oh, Jesus!” “We’re not gonna make it!” Robin yelled in your ear. Steve pressed the gas to the floor. “Yes, we are. Come on, baby. Come on, baby!” And if you weren’t stressed your mind would have gone to places from the last few days.
When the car reached the peak the engine strained under the gravity and dirt. Steve stomped the gas pedal multiple times, “Come on! Come on!” Grunted under his breath. The tires just screeched from the revving. “Guess the Toddfather had its limitations.” A mindless comment as you looked toward Steve. And sighed then shut the car off.
Everyone hopped out of the car and trucked up the last couple of feet. Your thighs burned and chested huffed, never one for the exercise of any sort…well only the fun kind.
“I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.” Wasting your breath just to grumble your vendetta.
Two hands are pushed into your back to keep your feet moving forward. You already knew it was Steve but his comment, “Come on, baby. So close.” Cause shameless flutters in your lower stomach and you swore your knees almost collapsed.
“Sounds like you’re talking to the car…daddy.” A teasing grin painted your sweaty and flushed cheeks. You heard the scuff but knew Steve enjoyed it from the squeeze to your back.
“You guys are gross. There are children present. Me included.” Robin chided as she passed the both of you.
As you reached the tip top there stood the radio tower, Ceribro. Dustin sprites forward to grab the walkie. He held the side button down and called, “Bald Eagle, this is Scoops Troop, do you copy?” He released the button and there was nothing, he repeated the call. “Bald Eagle, I repeat, this is Scoops Troop, do you copy?” Steve quietly paced back and forth.
Just as Dustin was getting ready to repeat the code it crackled with “Yes, I copy.” You all chuckle with relief, everyone moving into a tight circle.
“Call sign?” Dustin asked. “Dude, you’re gonna annoy him.” Having noticed the tone of voice through the radio. But Dustin didn’t care and Murray called back with, “Bald Eagle.”
“Please repeat.” “Bald Eagle. This is Bald Eagle!” Murray shouted.
With a winning smile, “Copy that. Good to hear your voice, Bald Eagle. What’s your twenty?”
“We reached the vent. I’ll contact you when I need you. Until then, silence.” He must have been so happy about that.
“Roger that, Bald Eagle. This is Scoops Troop, going radio silent. Ten-Ten, over.” Steve patted Dustin’s shoulder as he stood up.
You walked to the side, separating just by a foot, lowering yourself to the ground. Pulling your knees up you wrapped your arms to hold them close as you plopped your forehead to your knees. You were so tired, mentally and physically. If you had the money you would look into people that you could talk to, vaguely, about everything. Maybe you could barge one from the government?
The sound of footsteps caught your attention, but you didn’t turn your head. You had a feeling it was Steve and he would know to give you a few minutes of quiet even if you wanted his presence.
You dropped your left hand into the grass, a silent gesture if he was paying attention. And he always was. A second later he slipped his hand under yours, palm to palm, and curled his fingers in. Neither of you said anything, not wanting to or needing to at this moment. Just enjoying each other, that was all you needed.
“We should do star gazing as a date night. What’d ya’ say?” Steve pulled your linked hands up and pressed three kisses to the back of your hand, two on your knuckles.
You turned your head, ear, and cheek pressed into the scraped skin of your knees. Steve leaned his head forward, hair flopping over his forehead and into his eyes. He didn’t bother pushing it away, he kept his loving gaze zeroed in on you. Wanting your opinion, a reaction, you weren’t sure, but you gave him both.
“Would you make it super romantic, lover boy?” Teasing smirk to your scratched and bloody features.
He rolled his eyes, “Duh. What kind of boyfriend do you take me as?” And it unintentionally felt like a loaded question. And you knew it was the aftermath of Nancy, he needed constant reassurance. Whether he made it obvious or not, you will always give it to him.
In an awkward shuffle, moving your knees and twisting your body, you now sat in front of Steve. You held your empty hand out and did a ‘give me’ motion and he happily dropped his other hand to you. Like he did earlier you kissed his knuckles, multiple times until you heard that sweet-deep chuckle. You love when you make him flustered.
“Steve Harrington,” A kiss to his index finger to punctuate his name, “You are the best boyfriend I’ve ever gotten. And! And I know what you’re gonna say, “You’ve never had a boyfriend”, first of all, that means nothing.” A kiss to his middle, “Second, and this might sound horrible if I can’t word this right, but… I’m happy Nancy got time with you first.”
His brows scrunched in the middle while he wore a small pout and he tilted his head like a lost puppy. “Uh… Yeah. Yeah, that doesn’t- It’s not bad! Just doesn’t make the most sense?” He ducked his chin to his chest.
“Stevie…” You added a squeeze to his hands so he would look at you again. “You know how you were in high school. A total douchebag with only a sliver of gold in his heart.” And he didn’t disagree. He just bit into his bottom lip as you continued. “When you were with Nancy after the whole thing happened. It’s like… you bumped your head. Nudge in the right direction for your emotional growth.”
“There’s a joke in there that I want to make, but I won’t for your sake.” Lips curling to stop a stupid boyish smile at an inappropriate joke. You just sighed, “No. Go on, oh funny one. Say it aloud.” Also excited to hear it.
“You’re my nudge for emotional growth.” “Oh! That’s- That’s so horrible! Just bad.”
Your giggles mixed as you leaned toward each other. When they died off and you both went quiet you couldn’t help as you whispered, “All the girls you’ve been with have made you the one I love. I get to see the real Steve Harrington. Every crack and jewel.”
His eyes softened while the ends of his lips turned up, “Another joke. But…That was…I love you.” A declaration as he moved his lips onto yours.
A pretty good star gazing date as you thought to yourself while smiling into Steve’s pink lips.
“Mr. and Mrs. Byers, we have a problem!” Robin shouted into the night. You dove in for one more lightning kiss before Steve pulled the both of you up and back to your group and the tower.
“What’s the problem?” Seeing how Dustin and Erica were listening intensely to the quiet radio and Robin had her arms crossed while biting at her thumb.
“There’s an emergency.” Erica relaid, in a nervous tone. That didn’t bode well for you. “Who's in trouble?”
Loud cracking from the walkie stopped any answer from them and heard the shout of “Scoops Troop, do you copy? We require evacuation! We’re trapped! Help!” And the line went dead. Loud roaring was the last thing heard over the transmission.
The shouting of Mike’s voice over the crackling comm sent chills down your spine and blood rushing through your veins from the animalist yell. When you looked back to the horizon with your eyes set on Starcourt, the lights were flickering. Just like that November day back in nineteen eighty-three, when you faced the Demogorgan.
“We gotta help them. We gotta go!” Shouting to everyone and mostly to yourself to kick you into gear. Beat-up converse carried you down the steep hill, almost tripping over yourself. Forgetting you didn’t hold the keys to the car, you yelled for Steve as you threw yourself into the driver's seat.
“Woah, hey I can-“ “Steve, just give me the damn keys!”
He stood for a second before sitting in the passenger, Robin tagging along in the back. The engine roared to life as you hightailed it back towards Starcourt.
-
“Is that-” “Billy’s Camaro.”
The Toddfather was waiting on the far side of the parking lot. The Wheeler’s hatchback was stationed in front of the mall and Billy’s car wasn’t too far away, the headlights beaming into the night. He was revving the engine, smoke billowing from the exhaust. Nancy stood like a waiting soldier, her arms held high as she held a gun, her aim steady.
“I need you guys to hold tight,” A quick command before you stepped down on the gas just as Billy launched forward, straight to Nancy and everyone. 
“(Y/n), I don’t think this is a good idea!” Robin’s shaky plea passed your ears. Knuckles turning white from your death grip, mentally preparing for the impact. Steve’s hand fell on your thigh and squeezed the flesh, his blunt nails digging into your skin. “Baby, this is a stupid plan! But I love you no matter what!”
“I love you too, Steve! No matter what!”
The nose of the cruiser crashed into the passenger side of the blue Camaro, the two spun out until you turned it to a stop with the wheel and brake. It was like a shot went off beside your ear, a loud ringing that drowned everything out. Your heart was beating out your chest, quick and swallow pants puffing from your lips.
“Is everyone okay?” Shakiness to each letter. From the whiplash, your neck ached as you slowly turned to face Steve. He too was panting from adrenaline with his eyes set forward, then he looked your way. He loosened the grip on your thigh, you didn’t even notice. “Please don’t ever drive again.” Joking to take away the severity of the moment, you just nodded in compliance.
“Robin? Alive?” “Ask me tomorrow?” A weak thumbs up to her question.
The moment of catching breaths was interrupted by the horrific roaring coming from the mall. All three of you pulled yourselves up and leaned forward for a better view. “Oh, shit!” Robin exclaimed at the giant fleshy monster that climbed on the roof of Starcourt. You wanted to vomit from all the different emotions running through you.
Honking from a car turned heads. Nancy leaned through the window and shouted, “Get in!” All of you hurried to the trunk, legs, and arms knocking into each other while being crammed into the small space. Steve, being the last one beside you, shouted for Jonathan to start driving.
With tires screeching on asphalt, you peeled out and back to the road. The monster followed, it was quick and slow in its steps, keeping you within sight but only a few steps behind even with the car going one hundred.
Your heart was beating in your ears as you kept your eyes locked on the flesh monster that was tailing the Wheeler wagon.
A loud static filled the car and then two voices followed. “Dusty-bun, do you copy?” “I copy, Suzie-poo. It sounds much better now, thanks.”
“Dusty-bun?” Steve couldn’t help but repeat the nickname that the very much real Suzie called him. And you couldn’t help but follow with, “Suzie-poo?”
“Okay, so, listen, do you Planck’s constant?” “Do you know the Earth orbits the sun?” And you heard Dustin snicker over the comm. It was cute, but not the right time.
“Okay, so I know it starts with two sixes, and then a… w-what is it?” “Okay, let me just be clear on this. I haven’t heard from you in a week, and now you want a mathematical equation that you should know so you can…save the world?” “Suzie-poo, I promise, I will make it up to you as soon as possible.”
There was a short lull and then she replied, “You can make it up to me now.” “What?” Dustin’s voice went serious. “I want to hear it.” And you weren’t sure if you wanted to hear it.
You could hear the slight panic in Dustin’s voice as he spoke back, “Not right now.” “Yes, now, Dusty-bun.”
“Suzie-poo, this is urgent.” You were getting sick of the nicknames. You looked at Steve and Robin, “What do you think she’s asking him to do?”
Steve shrugged, “Probably something nerdy and gross mixed.” Robin didn’t as Suzie radioed back, “Yes, yes, you’re saving the world, I heard you the first time, but Ged is also saving Earthsea and he’s about to confront the shadow. So this is Suzie, signing off.” Very stubborn in getting her way.
Dustin hurried in, “Wait, wait, wait! Okay. Okay.” His end went silent for about thirty seconds and then- “Turn around. Look at what you see. In her face, the mirror of your dreams.”
“Am I concussed?” The abrupt question fell from your dry mouth. “Are they singing?” Needing to know you weren’t the only one hearing this.
Robin and Steve shared a look before dumbly nodding their heads. You looked to the front of the car and everyone was quiet. You couldn’t see their faces, only Will’ since he was turned at an angle and you saw the clear look of confusion painted over his features. You wonder if Hopper and Murray were hearing this musical number.
And the monster was still chasing the station wagon.
Suzie and Dustin sang in sync until the final note, Dustin ending off with a giggle. “Planck’s constant is 6.62607004.”
“You just saved the world.” “Gosh, I miss you, Dusty-bun.” “And I miss you more Suzie-poo.”
“Ugh, gross. They sound just like you two. You’ve rubbed off on him, Harrington.” Robin groaned as her head hit the window.
Steve scuffed, “Me? Why just me? There are two of us in this relationship.” “Well, he is your best friend.” Teasing him with a smirk.
Steve shook his head and didn’t follow up with a comment, his eyes out the window then yelling to the group, “It’s turning around.”
“What?” Nancy and Jonathan look over their shoulders. “It’s turning around!” Steve repeated.
“Maybe we wore it out,” Lucas suggested. “I don't think so. Hold on.” And Jonathan wiped the wheel hard and headed back to the mall.
-
The car jolted to a stop. Every one climbed out and grabbed the boxes of fireworks from the roof, you led them to the back entrance and typed in the door code. A beeping noise prompted you to pull the handle and usher them inside.
“Okay, so the plan is to get to the second level, spread out, and start setting them off. Don’t stop for a second, just go.” Lucas huffed his idea to everyone.
By the time your group spread out, you with Robin and Steve to the far left, the mind flayer was in the middle of the mall. It’s looming figure looking down at Billy and El. The lights were flickering and flashing as it growled and groaned. There was a high-pitched hissed and a tentacle limb stretched forward.
Before it could reach El a firework was thrown and hit the monster in the back. You heard Lucas’ voice as he yelled, “Flay this, you ugly piece of shit!” It prompted everyone to start setting them off and throwing bombs.
“Hey, asshole! Over here!” Steve yelled before throwing his lit cannon. It fell into the creature's mouth and exploded. You and Robin threw your fireworks one after the other.
If it wasn’t such a scary situation, the private display was beautiful. The different colors and shapes brighten the already colorful mall. The roars are mixed in with the high-pitched singing of explosive powders.
Your throwing arm started to wear out quickly but you had to push yourself through the soreness setting in. You couldn’t see what was happening down below and didn’t know if El was safe or still in danger and out of reach for help. But you had to push that away, you were helping her in this moment, distracting the monster from attacking her.
It felt like hours but must have only been thirty minutes or so before you were out of fireworks. You started to panic when less light and noise filled the space. “Last two!” You yelled as you flung your lit stick forward.
Steve grabbed the walkie and radioed to Dustin, “Dustin! We’re out of time!”
A few more fireworks went off and then they stopped. The only sound was your heavy panting in your ears filled with the monstrous roaring of the flayer.
“What do we do? What’d we do!” You yelled at Robin and Steve. They both pant with open mouths and just stared at you and then at the floor below.
As you looked down you could barely make out Billy standing in front of El, keeping her blocked from view. The monster screeched and roared then shot its mouth limb towards El, but Billy stood in the way and took the talons. Two more attached to his sides before several more limbs dug themselves into his body. You could hear his screams.
And the screams of Max as she watched her shitty step-brother die before her eyes.
Little flames flickered from tiny fires on the bottom level. Everything was static and quiet until the flesh monster started to roar even louder if possible. It started to thrash, its body slamming into your side of the railing making Steve pull you into him as the both of you with Robin fell to the floor.
With one final roar, it collapsed to the floor before the lights stabilized and the fire engulfed its skin. It was over. The battle was over and won.
“Hey, hey. It’s okay, just breathe.” Steve whispered into your ear. You didn’t notice that you were shaking and breathing in shallow intervals, almost making you pass out. You clung to him tighter as you closed your eyes and inhaled his scent which was mixed with sweat and gunpowder.
With the quiet lull of silence followed multi and fast footsteps that carried voices shouting over each other. Steve pulled the both of you from the floor and looked over the bent railing with Robin at your side. Dozens of soldiers with guns raised caused your heart to spike, was it more Russians?
But when they started shouting commands in English you knew you were safe. Everyone was evacuated from the building and led to the ambulances waiting outside for all of you to get checked. You and Steve for sure needed it the most.
You waited beside Steve as the nurse was looking over his face and gave him some meds for pain. They walked away to check on the others leaving the two of you alone. Steve threw one side of his blanket over your shoulder and pulled you close.
“I love you. So fucking much.” He muttered into your hair. You wrapped your arms around his stomach and held him gently. “I love you too. Out of this world much.” You felt his body move with a laugh, “Not a competition…but I would win.” And you laughed but didn’t retort back.
Your eyes flitted to the chaos of moving bodies. Three different groups of workers dressed in uniforms mixed. In a small opening you saw Will running towards someone and when you saw who he ran into tears started to sting your eyes.
Again that night, you pulled away from Steve and took off running to your mom and younger brother. “Mom!” You screamed into the night air.
Her head looked up and a teary smile spread across her face. They both opened their arms and you slithered into their warm embrace. “You’re alive. You’re alive.” A quiet mantra to yourself, she just squeezed tighter.
With your eyes open and over Joyce’s shoulder you could see El walking around. By herself and looking everywhere with confusion and worry screaming out in her body language, you pulled away from Joyce so you could look into her eyes and ask, “Where’s Hopper?” And she could only close her eyes and tiny whimpers fell from her lips.
He didn’t make it. El was alone once again.
Reluctantly you released your mom and walked to El. She was twisting her hands together anxiously, head swiveling in different directions. And you knew the person she was looking for wasn’t coming back for her.
“El…” Just saying her name and trailing off. She sniffled while turning your way, her eyes watery and bloodshot. She bit into her bottom lip and you could tell she was trying not to cry.
“Oh, sweetheart.” And she launched herself into your chest. Your arms take a second before holding her tight in your embrace. Her petite frame shook with rough cries and your skin tickled with the dropping tear drops falling from her eyes. You didn’t know what to say, you could only repeat, “Oh, sweetheart.”
-
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*striked out means tumblr cant find you*
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harrywavycurly · 1 year
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Hi! I love soft sugar daddy Steve! I was wondering if I could request a text convo where the reader asks Steve to buy them something for the first time? Concert tickets maybe? I just need to see his reaction 🥹 I feel like he would be so happy to do this for you
Hiii babes!!! So this spoke to my soul because the way I’d let Steven Harrington buy all my concert tickets (I’m looking at you Ms. Swift) so I hope you enjoy this!💖
-find all things Sugar Daddy Steve here✨
*Steve just wants to get you things you like and also…he’s not totally sire if you’re in a relationship or not*
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zombbean · 10 months
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YCH for sale of everyone's dorky DnD nerd. Steve joins him in one of em.
If you wanna bid on it, head over to my Twitter: (Link)
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