storm solos

steve harrington x gn!reader

summary: steve harrington was a lovesick obsessed puppy and you would never change it for the universe and its stars.

warnings: literally none, it's literally the fluffiest thing I've thought of everr

mae speaks! this was soo fucking self indulgent omg. i tried not to make it too long but this was literally the cutest thing I've written?? y'all gotta stop me, idc if I'm just starting-

Maybe it was the way he parted his hair and spoke or maybe it was the way he always looked at you as if you were the one who hung the stars yourself every night before the suns time finally ticked to a zero and the moon took over but Steve Harrington had always made you feel like you were in a sitcom of some sort.

The relationship had been so soft, so domestic. Some days were spent lousing around on the couch or the bed, watching whatever spooked either of your attentions. You were always touching in some way, whether it be his hands rubbing you arms or legs, sometimes just laid about on your stomach or if it's just you two sitting up, close and someones head piled atop of the others which laid on their shoulder. Steve would never admit this but his favorite was whenever he laid his head on your thighs, your fingers threading through his soft hair as he focused on anything but the tv.

Other days were really whatever, going on walks, working, or babysitting, which was your favorite, while they might be annoying Dustin and Lucas never fail to entertain you or annoy Steve and Max.

Each day would always end with you two laying in your messed bed from the day before as neither of you were really keen to making it. Arms and legs tangled like wires as you talked about anything and everything, Dustins theories, rude customers, elderly people who made your day, or just how pretty the moon looked as it shined in your window just perfectly. Then you'd wake up and repeat the process, you never had total repeats though, living in Hawkins made sure of it.

You always loved the end though. You never were good at falling asleep easily so you'd stay awake rambling as your mind ran a marathon, glancing over every so often at the man you loved with his eyes barely staying open as he tried his hardest not to fall into slumber as you spoke. Sometimes you'd think about testing him, seeing how long he could stay awake but you'd always, no matter what, just kiss his forehead and whisper a good night, saying "I'll finish my story later." He'd always just mumble an i love you, one that made your heart swell and sing, and quickly doze off. His arm around your waist as you listened to his breathing for a while, a smile on your face. Soon you'd trip into the trap called slumber as well, eyes fluttering close as you finally drifted off. Rarely would it ever be the other way around.