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@eerilyjaggedconstruct
hi! welcome to my blog <3 iâm glad youâre here :)
iâm still getting the hang of tumblr lol
my requests are open đ
bâs masterlist <3

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Tumblr just deleted basically an entire piece I spent hours writing! Live laugh loveeeeeee
said iâm the love of your life (about a million times), steve harrington
steve harrington x fem!reader (7.6k words)
in which steve is trying really hard to become your boyfriend, but you keep rejecting him over and over â yet it doesnât seem like you hate the idea of him. but thatâs okay, because steveâs never been one to give up so easily.
or 3 times you reject steve and the one time you donât.
warnings: reader is crazy oblivious, angsty with happy ending, jealousy, vecnaâs curse (reader), kissing, yearning, dustin being a sap for most part, robin is lovely, slow burn, anxiety and depression, friends to lovers, shit ending
âžâ。𦹠°âŠ
You sit on the comfy old couch on the Wheelerâs basement, left corner pretty much already belonging to you from the amount of time you come over. It would be weird in any other circumstance, except itâs all because of the little gremlins that youâre supposed to call teenagers that are spread out all over the room.
Dustin is sitting by the other end of the couch, munching contently on some chocolate in a way that almost makes you smile. Mike and Will are both on the floor, sitting snugly against the armchair to Dustinâs left. And Lucas lays stomach down in the middle of the basement, not paying much attention to the movie and seemingly more focused on the fashion magazine in front of him.
Youâre smart enough not to question why heâs suddenly so interested in gapâs summer collection. You can assume why, as his mood is gloomier than ever due to having a silly fight with max again.
Itâs not something to get worried about though, heâs a pretty sappy romantic kid and youâre sure heâll get her back in no time.
The door opening sounds through the basement, steps following down the stairs as Steve comes into view.
He throws the bag of popcorn to the two boys by the armchair, ignoring Mikeâs complaints as they land right on his face.
âA diet coke for the lady.â He hands the can to you smoothly, though your gaze stays focused on the movie.
âMhm.â Itâs enough of a thank you to him, knowing you too well to disturb your focused moment.
Fishing out the bag of peanuts from his pocket, he throws himself rather loudly to the spot on the couch beside you, smiling at your annoyed tap on his leg for him to be quiet.
Without saying a word, he opens the packet on his hands, picking out peanuts one by one and cracking the shells open before handing them to you.
âArenât you gonna eat some too?â You say after a moment of realizing theyâre appearing on your hand way too fast for you to be sharing.
âNo, iâm good.â He affirms, so gentle it makes you momentarily glance at him.
Except seems to have the same idea as you, eyes focused on your face as if heâd been staring for at least a little while. It makes you grow all hot, though you blame it on the july weather.
Shaking out a confused nod, you turn back to the tv. Refusing to ask why heâs doing this. You really donât want to know the answer.
Itâs not that Steveâs not a nice guy, heâs always been kind to you for all you know. But then again you never really interacted with him back in school.
Heâs just been extra nice for the last couple of months, and you would love it. You would. Except to you he pretty much seems to be obsessing over getting someone to date. And you donât want to be one of them, not when heâs doing it all to get over someone.
Besides, Nancy is a really nice girl and the last thing you want is to get yourself into some kind of rivalry with her. Thatâs not you.
While youâre distracted you donât notice Lucas approaching Dustin, whispering something to him while pointing at the magazine from before.
âWill you two let us watch the movie? Jeese.â Steve grumps, throwing you a âare they serious?â look, although you know he doesnât really care.
âYeah so, about that- we gotta go!â Dustin suddenly jumps up from the couch, excited in a rather suspicious way.
âWhat?â You frown.
âWeâre so sorry but i just found like the perfect gift for Max and itâs on sale! I need to go get it before someone gets their grabby hands on it.â Lucas points to the golden necklace on the catalogue.
It is pretty, you canât deny that.
âOk well, you two donât take long cause the sunâs setting soon.â Itâs a bit weird to be sounding like one of their moms, but youâve gotten used to it.
âUs four, actually.â Dustin cuts in, pointing to Mike and Will you look like they are just as confused as you.
âThat must be some heavy necklace for you to need four of you to carry it.â Steve answers amusedly, as if he knows exactly what the boy is doing.
Damn them and their way of communicating. Sometimes you really believe they were separated in birth, even with the age difference.
âDude, you seriously are so out of touch. We need an extra opinion in case thereâs no necklaces left.â Itâs some stupid excuse, but youâre too tired and hot to retaliate.
âJust donât take long. Your parents will all kill us if they knew we let you out till late.â You give in easily, finding yourself to be way more accepting than Steve.
âBe back before 8 or iâll come get you!â Steve exclaims as the teenagers start running up the stairs.
âYes, mom!â Dustin yells sarcastically.
Steve huffs beside you, not moving even a bit even with the extra space on the couch now.
âCouldâve at least called me Dad. Mom.â He scoffs the end of the phrase out.
âOh no, youâre definitely mom.â You giggle, more bubbling out of your chest at his faux offensed face.
âAm not!â He squeaks.
âYou sure are very motherly towards them. Sound exactly like my Mrs. Wheeler scolding at them.â You poke his bicep jokingly.
He rolls his eyes, though a little smile is at the corner of his mouth. He looks like heâs about to say something, but he doesnât for the next few seconds and you donât wait to turn back to the tv.
âDoes that mean youâre like the dad?â You freeze at his silly question.
Because he doesnât mean for it to be silly and you donât even have to process it to know it. He sure as hell doesnât mean it in a âfriendly divorced parentsâ way.
âWhat?â You blurt, scraping your nails against the can on your hands anxiously.
He notices your demeanor, almost frowning but pulling the happy mask before his eyebrows get to pinch together.
âLike- cause iâm mom and all.â He laughs awkwardly. âWeâre like their parents at the point with how much we babysit.â
âRight. Of course.â You smile tightly.
Your heart soars at the way he seems upset due to your dry tone. It almost makes you want to tell him that itâs okay, that you donât mind it, that you wish you were actually a couple.
âI mean- i did feel like a dad with you bringing me a drink while i watch tv. Youâd make a pretty good housewife.â Your eyes gleam when your comment lightens his smile.
âLook at us breaking stereotypes.â Steve muses, pretty teeth impossible not to look at when he smiles just for you.
You can only smile too, head leaning slightly back against the couch as your body feels suddenly aware that heâs close to you. Enough that your legs touch and your shoulders brush with every slight movement.
âI would make a nice housewife.â He affirms to himself, voice filled with ego.
âYeah, donât let it get to your pretty head.â You mock.
âYou think iâm pretty?â He whispers, almost like a secret.
The air youâre about to let out catches on your throat, chest heavy in the worst best way. Heâs so gorgeous - the most.
And you really want to feel it naturally, what heâs trying to give you. But you canât. Because thereâs always that little voice at the back of your head, like a string that makes you trip every time you try to go through the door that leads to him.
So you pull back, turning from his searching eyes and desperately trying to find something to say to make this less awkward.
âOh look, Leia and Han are about to kiss for the first time.â Great. That so makes it better.
âYeah.â Steve croaks after a moment.
It makes you want to dig into the couch, hide yourself inside the cushions until everything is okay. It makes it worse that he feels more hurt than angry at the rejection.
âIâm just gonna go to the bathroom real quick.â He gets up, almost skipping steps as he goes up the stairs.
Thereâs a bathroom in the basement.
âSteve-â
âIâll be right back.â
You dig your nails into the palms of your hands, feeling like a jerk and definitely lonely and weirdly not because of the empty basement. Itâs for the best.
Youâre tiring, heâd get tired. Youâd tire him, is what you tell yourself to make it seem like a good decision.
He only comes back to tell you heâs picking the kids up, not quite looking you in the eye but acting like normal all over again. Almost as if he still wants to be overly nice to you. Still opens the car door for you. Still puts on your favorite radio station.
âžâ。𦹠°âŠ
âI just really have a feeling that he likes someone.â Robin rambles while organizing the mountain of tapes on their correct shelves.
âSteve?â You ask, shuddering a bit at the thought.
âYeah, i mean- he hasnât told me about any recent date. But then again i might have just made him think i donât care about those.â She looks slightly apologetic as she says.
âIâm sure he doesnât think that.â You reassure, rubbing her arm comfortably as you come closer to help sort.
Robin hums, putting on the expression she has when sheâs trying to remember something.
âHe did tell me about this girl. I didnât think much of it at first but now that iâm thinking, he hasnât mentioned anyone after that.â You try to process her words, trying to hide the way your stomach drops.
âAnd like he didnât wanna reveal her identity. But he said it was someone heâs know for a long time, that he thought he finally found his person.â She goes on before adding, ââsaid sheâs different from other girls.â She scrunches her nose at the phrase.
âOh yuck.â You laugh with her, forgetting the problem in question for a moment.
âSo original of him, right?â Robin bumps her hip with yours.
âPlease tell him to never confess to her by saying that.â You smile through it.
Then it hits you. Someone heâs known for a long time. He thinks sheâs the one. Nancy.
âActually, i was thinking you could talk to him.â She puts out, raising her eyebrows in question.
âMe?â Youâre more confused than ever. Why would you need to speak to him? He can like whoever he wants to like. None of your business.
âAs much as i want to find out who it is, i donât think iâll get it out of him. He acts all weird whenever i talk about it. And youâre his best friend, too. Maybe you could help him out.â She explains, though it seems like sheâs holding back.
Youâre Steveâs best friend. Did he say that? You hope he did.
Itâs not a good idea that he might still be in love with Nancy. Sheâs got a boyfriend and theyâre happy together.
âI guess that makes sense.â You agree, âNancy would probably be upset if he tried something right now.â
âWhat?â Robin practically gasps.
âHe seems like he wants to make a move, doesnât he?â
âNo, no, no- thatâs not-â Her eyes widen as she speaks, but the bell makes a loud noise as the storeâs door opens, interrupting her mid sentence.
Steve smiles widely at you both, âIâm back!â As if you canât see him right there.
It makes you smile a bit more, more so when he looks right at you. âYouâre here. Hi.â He sounds rather excited about it.
âYeah, Robin said i should keep you company since youâre covering for her.â You tell him.
âThatâs nice of you, thank you.â He says.
ââCourse, itâs nothing.â You wave him off, sticking your hand into your pocket as you forget what to do with your hands.
âOkayyyâŚâ Robin drags the word, leaving some kind of suggestion in the air. âThatâs my cue to head out for a date with my lovely lady.â She bows dramatically.
âYeah, okay. Brag.â Steve teases, though you see it in his smile that he loves that sheâs happy.
âBye, Rob. Have so much fun.â You receive a happy thumbs up before sheâs out the door.
You smile to yourself, sorting through the tapes as you feel Steve come to stand beside you and let out a big breath before getting to work. Dramatic.
âHad fun with Buckley?â He asks, glancing at you with his soft deer eyes.
âI sure did. Sheâs much less boring than you.â You tease.
He brings his hand to his chest, âOh wow, you wound me.â While giving you his best pout and it make it even harder for you to keep the friendly act going. âYou totally love my company.â
âYouâre okay.â You give in, refusing to look him in the eye as you know itâd crack your smile in one second. He notices.
âDid you have lunch?â He blurts randomly, as if remembering something.
âUh- not yet, no.â You look at him amusedly.
âI brought you that sandwich you like, the one with the pretty wrapping. Cause, you know, i went there for lunch and i thought it would be nice.â He confesses nervously.
âThanks, Steve.â You give in the urge to squeeze his bicep, your usual and mutual understanding thank you.
You let the comfortable silence fill the store, empty of customers due to it being lunch time.
Thoughts gear through your head, trying to put whatever youâre about to say in the right words so they donât come out in a way that makes you look like a jerk.
Why couldnât Robing be the one to speak to him? God, you feel like a mom having the conversation with her kid for the first time.
âSo, thereâs something i kinda need to talk to you about.â You start, words uneasy.
Steve nods slowly, as if processing. ââKay.â He urges you to go on.
âRobin tells me you like someone.â And fuck, you probably werenât supposed to tell him she said that. Some good start you just picked for yourself.
âShe does?â His expression seems to flicker with panic for a moment, before he practically shakes out of it and changes it into a confused one.
âYeah, and i know itâs really none of my business but as your friend-â
âBest friend.â He corrects naturally.
âAs your best friend,â The words feel nice to say, coming out too easy for the conversation youâre trying to have. âi feel like i have this duty to tell you when i think youâre gonna make a stupid decision. You know?â
Now he looks actually confused, eyebrows pinched together and thoughtless look. âSure?â
âThis to say that i understand youâre still on her,â It feels impossible to let her name out. âBut i donât think itâs a good idea to do something about it, quite unfair if i can be honest with you.â
âWait, what?â He practically squeaks, dropping the tapes back in the cart. You try to understand why heâs avoiding it, but thereâs no reason that comes to mind.
âNancy.â You decide to be direct.
âNancy? Iâm not following, sweetheart.â The pet name rolls out his tongue easily and it leaves you in absolute despair.
âYouâre thinking on making a move, are you not?â You try to have him catch up.
âNo! I donât know why Robin told you that, i really donât. But iâm not doing anything with Nancy, thereâs nothing with Nancy. Seriously.â He seems truthful enough as he speaks and you hate yourself for not fully believing him.
âBut you like someone?â
He hesitates, âI do.â
âOh, okay. Sorry for assuming, Robin didnât actually say it was Nancy.â You give him a guilty quirk of the lips.
âThatâs okay.â He reassures, sweet as always.
Steve shuffles on his feet, opening his mouth a few times as if heâs about to say something a but never seeming to muster the courage. You give him time.
âThis girl-â He cuts himself off, words coming out in a harsh breath, âsheâs amazing. The most amazing girl iâve ever met. And even though i have known her for a good while, iâve looked at her with different eyes for the last few months.â
Your breath catches, you start to understand his words. Hate and love is what you have for them, no in between.
âSheâs a breath of fresh air, although i do seem to be out of breath whenever sheâs around. Sheâs the best with the kids, probably more caring than me. Has really good taste in music and movies - i wouldnât have gotten this job if she didnât make me decorate the name to every Star Wars movie.â He laughs but it seems more like relieved sigh.
You feel stuck to the ground, eyes wide and motionless. You donât encourage him to go on, but he takes your silence.
âAnd most of all she makes me not care about what others think. Makes me wanna be a good person and nothing else.â He finishes, carefully leaning closer without stepping towards you.
You didnât think this would happen like this, thrown right on your face like some splash of freezing water that leaves you freezing on the spot.
Heâs lovely, his words are everything youâve ever wanted to hear. But youâre filled with dread, because you know whatâs about to come and youâre going to reject it.
âWhat do you say?â
Itâs complicated, youâre not sure why you want to say no. You donât fully believe him for one. Itâs not fair to make him have someone who has doubts by his side.
âNo.â You state, simply.
âWhat?â He asks, straightening up immediately and drily gulping.
You laugh, but itâs really more cause you donât know what to say. âThereâs no way you actually think weâd work.â
âWhy not?â He sounds defensive, âI do think that, i think about it everyday.â His voice is more hurt than anything now.
âSteve, this is crazy. Weâre best friends. No way.â You shake your head.
âDid you just hear all that i said? I donât wanna be your best friend - at least not just that.â He exasperates, searching for your eyes when you refuse to look at him.
âNow, this was the kind of stupid decisions i was talking about a moment ago.â You scoff.
Youâre trying to play it cool, but itâs like he sees right through it. He reaches for your hand, loosely enough that you can let go of it if you want.
âItâs not a stupid decision. If anything, itâs the best decision in think iâve made in a while.â His thumb brushes your knuckles.
âIâm sorry.â You whisper, eyes feeling with tears at the confrontation.
He frowns, âTell me you donât like me.â
âWhat?â
âTell me you donât like me back and iâll leave you alone.â He asserts, focused on making it work.
âSteve, thatâs not the point.â You say desperately, âIâm not your usual, youâre interested by this idea of me because weâre close and you want someone.â
âWow, thatâs what you think of me?â He looks truly offended now.
You purse your lips, feeling unfair for acting like this. âNo, iâm sorry.â
âBut weâre so different, truly different. And i donât think thereâs anything you can do right now to change my mind.â You want to reach out and pull him into a hug, but it really wouldnât be a good idea right now.
âSweetheart-â
Youâre saved by the door opening, two clients coming in. Steve looks the most disappointed. But not angry, and thatâs always a relief.
âIâm just- gonna get onto that sandwich while you take care of that.â You look apologetically at him, smiling at him to try amend the situation.
âYeah- sure.â He rubs his temple for a second before turning away from you.
Youâre certainly a jerk after that. But itâs only a few days later when he starts acting normal again, sweet as usual towards you and keeping you close as his best friend.
âžâ。𦹠°âŠ
A weird shiver runs across your back as you enter the abandoned house, even more when the big group turns into just you and Steve. The idea of the group being separated turns your stomach.
The flashlight on your hand doesnât feel enough to light your path through the somber hallways, headache tingling on your temples as you try to find anything useful.
Itâs not that things have been weird with Steve, which they have, but theyâve been weird with everyone. You lack the energy to try and even have a conversation with anyone. If you were to be honest, youâre not even sure why youâre here because your mind is all but up to having ideas that will actually help find Vecna.
It started a few weeks ago. The ultimate feeling of emptiness, like everything and everyone is moving and youâre stuck on the same spot. All the things happening in Hawkins donât help your case either. Eddie being accused of being a murderer, sweet Chrissyâs death, Max almost being sentenced to that end too.
You donât feel like you have a major thing ruining your life and making you miserable, but you feel sad even without it. And that leaves you to wallow in self pity and to think you arenât anything but selfish. There are people who are in real danger around you and all you can think about is your unreasonable sadness.
The conversation at Radio family was a few months ago, not that you feel the need to track it. You thought you could pull yourself together after it, told yourself all you needed was time to get over it.
But all you can think about when heâs kind to you, when he brings you food, when his hand brushes your arm while heâs standing next to you â is that he actually mistakes it for real feelings for you. And the worst of it all is that you find yourself enjoying it, the idea of him loving you. Selfishly you wish heâs still confused, hoping he sometimes thinks about you at night like you think about him.
You feel his stare burn into the back of your skull as you walk slightly ahead of him, avoiding to walk beside him and having to make small talk.
The old wood board floor cracks under your shoes, filling the awkward silence that creates a barrier between the both of you. You stop in front of some type of wardrobe with glass door, pointing inside with your flashlight to get a look at whatâs inside.
Steve keeps his distance, seemingly looking at the rest of the furniture in the room. âSomeone sure liked bugs.â His face is scrunched when you turn to see, light pointed at a few glass jars with dead bugs inside it.
Your stomach turns at the sight, displeased but acknowledging hum ripping through your throat.
A small smile forms on his lips, âScared?â He wiggles one of the jars, though the way he keeps it away from his body tells you heâs terrified.
In another occasion you think you wouldâve made fun of him, teasing him relentlessly for being scared of dead bugs inside a jar.
âNo, just gross.â You settle for answering, shrugging your shoulders without much emotion.
âRight.â He sighs, setting the jar down slowly before brushing his hands against his jeans. He stands a bit awkwardly, even more clueless than you about what to look for.
Your head aches all around, pressuring your eyes and temples.
You hear Steve hum to himself, a slight bored look as he seems to do it almost without noticing. He flicks the ruffles on a curtain with his fingers, immediately regretting it as dust spreads in the air and right on his fingers. You find yourself stifling a smile against your palm, realizing now you might have missed his antics a bit too much.
Palming his pocket, Steve pulls out a pack of gum that you know he carries around with him. You watch him awkwardly play with it after fishing one out for himself, taking a step towards you in false confidence after a second.
âWant some?â His arm reaches out to signal for you to take one, not leaving you much option but to accept it. Not that you could get yourself to anyway.
âSure.â You reach to grab it, cursing when your fingers hit the it with too much force and it tumbles out of his hold.
Both of you bend to pick it up at the same time, but youâre the one who regrets it immediately. You donât know if itâs because of the way his fingers graze yours or because of the hot liquid that starts running down your nose.
You flinch away immediately, head knocking against his forehead with force and making you stumble back with a pained groan.
âFuck- iâm sorry!â He exclaims, a groan escaping his lips too as he reaches to touch his forehead with his fingers.
The hit makes your headache even stronger, eyes closed in attempt to make it go away. Although youâve know for a while that it wonât. Thatâs also been going on for a few weeks, paired with nightmares that leave you sweaty and terrified to ever sleep again. It feels impossible to ever have a good dream again, not when your living life feels like a nightmare itself.
âAre you okay?â Steveâs panicked voice reaches your ears over the high stinging noise of your own head, eyes trying to get a good look at your face that youâve turned away from him.
ââM fine.â You try to dismiss, lifting a hand that helps nothing with keeping him away.
âHey, donât do that.â You know he means pulling away, grabbing you by the arm and gently pulling you to face him when you donât necessarily go against it. âYouâre bleeding.â
Youâre reminded by why exactly you stood up so fast, and as if on cue the blood running from your nose touches your lips. He looks alarmed at the sight, eyes wide with worry and hands around your biceps with the most featherlight touch â you almost think you might be imagining him touching you.
âHere-â Steve moves without thinking, stretching the fabric of his shirt sleeve so it covers his whole hand and bringing it to your nose.
His shirt will probably be stained forever, but he doesnât seem bothered by it the least, cleaning the area around your nose like itâs his second nature to be attentive. He taps your skin with care, covered thumb brushing your lips to wipe the blood and lingering for a second too long.
Your hand rests on his arm as if itâs a natural instinct, watching the way his throat bobs when he accidentally pulls your lips open with a rather clumsy wipe and you grip his shirt lightly. âSorryâŚâ He mumbles, not needing to speak at a proper tone when standing so close, âfor that and for hurting you.â
âHurting me?â You throw him a confused look.
âDunno if you remember but i hit you so hard your nose started bleeding just a second ago.â He tries to tease, smile tugging at his lips.
âI hit you.â You reason, huffing at the way heâs so sweet about it. Ready to take the blame when itâs not supposed to be his. âAnd-â It was already bleeding before i hit you, is what you wish but step back from saying.
You donât want him to think this is just like other people, the ones who get headaches and nosebleeds and visions and then get cursed and bones snapped to death. You canât possibly be going through that â canât believe youâre going through that.
âAnd itâs fine, anyway.â You settle for saying, brushing the possibilities off.
Steve hums, brows pulled into a frown that tells you he doesnât necessarily believe you. But he doesnât pressure you and you feel guilty for making him feel like he canât do it just a little, like a best friend would out of worry. Youâre quite sure all the pushing away and closing yourself off from him have taken a tool on making him think he canât ask you about things.
You become too aware of how close heâs standing to you and how he takes in your features with soft eyes like he hasnât been able to take a look at you in ages. Subconsciously, you tug his arm away and look at your feet.
Heâs hit with how intimate the moment might have looked, arm dropping to his side as his mouth moves exasperatedly trying to find the right words. âI wasnât trying anything, i swear.â
You know he wasnât, Steve would never. Not after you told him not to, thatâs not who he is. You just couldnât handle it.
The gears in your head move as you try to keep yourself together, âLetâs just keep looking, Steve. Please.â You practically begging, eyes looking at his face for once.
âOf course.â He relents easily.
Youâre taking steps away from his as soon as the words leave his mouth, flashlight on again as you suddenly find the celling so interesting. A simple excuse to have you look up and stop the tears from fully forming and falling down your face. Because why would you even cry?
The background noise of Steveâs presence suddenly disappears, youâre too embarrassed to look back and make sure heâs there.
The same shiver from earlier leads its way up your spine and forms a cold sweat. A clock ticks from the corner of the room, making your turn towards it with a gasp. That wasnât there before.
And Steve, who was there just a moment ago, isnât anymore. A panicked whimper pulls through your mouth, heart beating so hard against your ribcage you think it might crack a rib.
Cracking bones. You can already see it. Your own body getting the future itâs destined to have.
A hand finds your shoulder with a shake, pulling you out of what you canât call a daze â because it feels more like a living nightmare. Steve calls your name, snapping his fingers in front of your eyes.
âAre you sure youâre okay?â
You breathe in with force, ignoring the sweat thatâs starting to drip down your back. âYeah, iâm good.â
It gets harder to lie by the minute. You pretend to observe the empty corner of wall that just had a clock stuck in it.
He sighs from his spot behind you, âYou can speak to me. You know that, right? Because iâm your friend, i want to be your friend.â He tries, as if heâs been holding back from speaking the whole time, âAnd i worry, so much it hurts. Iâm sorry that i acted so impulsively before â but iâm not sorry for feeling it.â Not sorry for loving you.
âI know i can.â You nod, âIâm sorry, too. I didnât mean to make it weird, thereâs just so much going on.â But you leave out everything else.
Steve waits for you to say something else, but it doesnât come. You do your best at throwing him a warm smile, âThis place just creeps me out, thatâs all.â
He agrees, âThatâs putting it lightly.â
You bounce slightly on your feet, not sure on what to say. Itâs turned into this when youâre around him, awkward conversations and things left unsaid.
âCâmon, we should get some ice for your nose. Iâm sure theyâve done enough searching for today.â He motions for the door with his head.
âYep.â You walk ahead, once again ahead of him. It would make it harder to have his arm around your shoulder like it once was normal.
The imminent future makes it impossible to think of it as enjoyable. Him loving you means getting left without you, because your headache is stronger than ever, your nosebleeds are more intense and you think youâve just had what all the victims had before they died â a vision.
Steve watches you refuse to walk beside him, finger coming to touch the spot on his shirt thatâs stained with your blood.
âžâ。𦹠°âŠ
It happens fast, too fast. One moment youâre with your friends, setting up a trap with Robin while Steve and Dustin bicker on the back about something youâre too tired to pick up on. The next, just as you reach down to pick up a tool, everything feels darker.
They all look at you wrong. Even Dustin, whoâs ever so sweet to you, has his eyes set on you with an uncharacteristic angry expression.
At first you believe it, as if your mind has been telling you to wait for the moment they all call you out for your bullshit. Warning you that they have every reason to turn against you.
When Steve speaks you think your heart might beat out of your chest, harsh words slicing you like a knife against your back. Yet his voice doesnât seem his, a rough undertone and malice that isnât Steveâs â not even when heâs mad.
You feel stupid once you realize whatâs happening, recognizing the cloudy sky that erupts with red thunder that Max has told you about. So you run ignoring the calls from your friends, because you know they arenât real.
The day that youâve known was coming is finally here, the dread on your stomach turning into the drop of it at the knowledge of whatâs going to happen next. And the worst part is that itâs only now that you feel guilty for not telling anyone. About the headaches, about the nosebleed, about the nightmares.
A droplet of sweat makes itâs way down your forehead as you move as fast as your feet allow you to, thinking about how confused everyone probably is. Because how could they have known?
You hate the choice you made of not allowing yourself to process it. You wish you wouldâve told your friends how much they matter to you, how itâs not their fault that you feel miserable. You think about telling Steve that you were just so scared of exactly the situation what youâve come to be in that you couldnât allow yourself to love him at your fullest.
Itâs not like you know why you didnât tell them. Was it because you were scared? Or was it really just knowledge of what you were designed to go through?
The anxiety building in your chest makes it harder to breathe, slowing you down in the process.
You feel helpless and alone, trapped in a part of your mind with your worst nightmares. A vine wraps around your ankle and yanks you with force to the ground, elbows erupting with pain as soon as you hit it.
But it doesnât compare to what you feel once you spot him, the creature that youâve all been looking for a long time but that you wish was nowhere in sight now.
You claw at the death grip of the vines around your ankles, clumsily making an effort to regain your blood circulation as a sob escapes your mouth. Tears fall down your eyes and across your cheeks at the sight of them not budging.
He calls your name, to which you shake your head with a shaky breath and try your hardest to ignore. Even when you feel yourself slide through the ground as the vines pull you towards him.
You canât run from whatâs been planned for you. It sounds through your head like a reminder, leaving a ringing on your ears.
The last thing you want to do now is give up, not without getting to tell everyone everything you want to say. You refuse to leave like this.
And itâs like some force seems to hear you, a familiar melody sweeping through somewhere around you. Itâs your favorite song, the one youâve heard countless times on your walkman and that you take the liberty to turn up the sound of the radio when in Steveâs car.
It brings a warm feeling in contrast to the cold that surrounds you.
Distracted, the grip on your leg loosens. With a swift movement, you slide the vines off of you and scramble to your feet. This time it feels freeing when you run, towards the sound and the image of your friends.
Theyâre right there, so close. You can see them looking up at your floating figure, voices panicked as they call for you.
So you fight against your sore ankles until they reach their limit and youâre falling again, but this time you have arms around you as you reach the ground.
Youâre breathing heavily when you come back to reality, frantically looking around to make sure you made it. Steve has his arms secured around you as he situates you between his legs with his chest pressed to your back, his voice cracking once he says your name.
âYouâre okayâ iâve got you. Itâs okay, baby. I promise.â His mouth is close to your ear as he speaks, reassuring you over his own worries. âIâm right here, not letting you go anywhere.â
A sob bubbles out of your throat and you grip onto the arms around you, probably a bit too tight â to which he doesnât complain. Your chest heaves with struggle to breathe, tears clouding your vision as they fall down your face.
You feel him press a hand to your chest, âCan you take deep breaths for me?â The touch grounds you as you nod in agreement. âCome on. There you go, honey.â
His heart beats at an erratic pace against your back, you can tell heâs trying his hardest to be calm for you. âSteve.â Your voice is hoarse, fingers shakily grabbing his that are still pressed to your chest.
âYes, âm right here.â His voice breaks mid sentence, tone desperate.
âIâm sorry.â You manage to say, breathing starting to feel like an easier task.
âNo donât say that,â You can picture him shaking his head even without seeing him. âLook at me.â Steve turns you in his arms, never letting go of you.
âThis is not your fault, okay?â Heâs cupping your face with gentle hands, eyes red and teary as his lips turn into the saddest pout youâve seen. It almost gets you to smile.
He brushes your tears away, âDoes anything hurt? Tell me, baby.â Eyes inspect at your face.
You shake your head with a sniff, wincing slightly as the cold wind hits your arms. âNo.â
âHere.â Heâs quick to take off his jacket, draping it around your shoulder and helping the sleeves into your arms. âAll good.â His smile is forced but a good way of lightening the mood.
Not satisfied yet, Steve pulls you into his arms once again for a proper hug now. He ignores then way your knee pushes into his thigh a bit too hard, pressing you as close as possible with his nose buried in your hair. You slump your weight onto him, hands sprawled on his back as you press an impulsive but small kiss to his neck.
He sighs, âOh my god.â The whisper comes out before he can stop it, more to himself than anything else as he finally relaxes. As if still in disbelief of the whole situation that just hit him like a truck.
You stay in his arms for a moment longer, only letting go when Robin and Dustin come back from filling the others in through the walkie.
âThank god youâre okay.â Robin smiles with worry all over her face, pulling you into a bear hug that Dustin joins into. She drapes an arm over your shoulders as you walk to the car, sharing the worry of leaving you alone.
Steve stops you before you get on the backseat, hand to your bicep protectively. âStay at my house?â You donât have it in you to deny.
âWeâre going too.â Dustin quips as if itâs a given.
For once, Steve doesnât answer with a remark.
He helps you in even when you protest, pulling your seatbelt on. For the whole ride there your head rests on Robinâs shoulder, sharing occasional glances with Steve as he looks at you through the rear view mirror.
Once you arrive at his house, itâs not long before the others show up. They elaborate plans, ones that you feel too exhausted to pay attention to but try your hardest to. You notice the way they keep a close eye on you, not letting you be alone in any occasion.
And as they settle on his living room, Steve grants you some privacy as he pulls you into his bedroom. The offer of a shower is something you canât deny, fresh clothes that belong to him awaiting for you after.
You leave the bathroom with your hair still wet, dripping on his shirt on your torso. Heâs right there, laying out blankets on the floor beside the bed.
âHey, do you feel better?â Heâs worried and looking at you with wide eyes.
You shrug, âShower felt good.â
Steve nods, as if he wants to say something but doesnât. âI hope itâs okay that i sleep hereâ i donât think itâs a good idea for you to be alone.â He shifts awkwardly as he speaks.
âItâs okay.â You smile, slightly endeared.
Itâs not that you think youâre going to get much sleep. But being alone right now is the last thing you want. Youâre not even sure if youâre out of the woods yet.
Settling inside the covers of his bed, you hear him sit on the floor against the bed over the blankets. You donât think he intends to sleep at all.
You try to sleep, you really do. But the fact that heâs right there after months of not allowing yourself to be close to him is killing you. So you move without thinking, finding yourself taking a seat beside him without saying a word.
He doesnât budge, contemplating.
âI love you.â Steve cuts through the silence, frowning as if it pains him to.
Air gets caught in your throat, âWhat?â
âYou told me i just needed someone. Maybe i do. But that someone is you, and iâm more sure of it now than ever.â Guilt forms in your stomach at your harsh words from before. He remembers. Word by word.
âYou donât love me, Steve.â You start with a shake of your head. âNot that way. Because it would never work.â
âWhy not?â He exasperates sadly.
You donât answer, turning your head away once you feel the tears build up.
âStop doing that.â Heâs gentle even when frustrated. âWhy do you do it? You tell me you donât want it yet i see the way it hurts you to say it.â A hand slips to your cheek, angling towards him.
âBecauseâ you have this idea. Your whole suburban dream. I canât give you that, itâs not me.â You brush your eye with frustration.
He gulps the lump in his throat away, âDonât you get it? I want whatever you want. Whatever you want. I will do it. Because it wouldnât make sense otherwise, not to me. I would do anything you want me to do, sweetheart.â
You feel tired of hiding it, the need you feel to have something with him. Tired of pretending you donât want it as if something is holding you back from it. Your own mind, your own insecurities, your own doing.
So you donât stop yourself this time. Your lips press to his in a long waited kiss, fingers grabbing his shirt by the chest. Steve hums in surprise but doesnât pull away, hands coming to hold your face in a ghost gentle touch.
His heart beats fast against your hand, his nose bumping against yours when you smile against his lips.
âI love you, Steve.â You allow yourself to say.
âI know.â He references, smug smile full of affection. His face is still leaning towards yours, giving you a good look at his shiny eyes.
Thereâs no doubt he does too.
âIâm sorry.â You whisper, âFor the things i said. And for pulling away.â
âDonât be.â He reassures. âDidnât deserve to have you justâ whenever i wanted to. I shouldnât have expected you to just take it. I needed you to know for sure that i love you. And if that meant i had to fight and wait, iâd do it. I did. Iâd do it again. I love you.â
Steveâs thumb brushes against the pulse on your neck, leaving you space to lean against him.
âYouâre still my best friend.â You mumble, head slumping on his shoulder.
âDonât want it any other way.â A kiss to your head, then a pause. âWeâre gonna get through this. Youâre gonna be okay.â
You believe him through the doubt, humming against his collarbone.
âSleep. Iâm right here, baby.â The smooch he presses on your forehead is comforting, his hands pulling you down to lay against the blankets.
You fall asleep with your ear pressed to his chest, hand laying on his stomach as he hugs you close.
Steve doesnât sleep, eyes wide through the whole night as you rest against him.
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Against My Better Judgement
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Main masterlist
Steve Harrington x OC
Maybe Iâll come back and make this more visually appealing, but for right now itâs late and I have an early shift tomorrow. I really should be studyingâŚ
Warnings/themes: uhhhhh same as chapter one?? weâll see how far we get LOL
âUh⌠um..â Mike looked concerned. âMike, please?â I asked him, desperation evident in both my voice and my eyes. âI canât go back, and I donât have a home anymore. Iâll explain, just⌠please.â His expression softens, and I can almost see what heâs thinking about. âCome on,â he says, leading me quietly into the house and into the basement.
We get to the basement, and I sit on the couch, as he stands frozen in front of me. I can see him looking at meâ really looking. He notices my attire then. âA hospital gown?â He asks. I purse my lips and look down at my lap. âCan I⌠borrow some clothes and have some water? Then I can explain.â He nods and disappears, leaving me alone in the basement. My mind wanders to 011, and I wonder how sheâs doing as I look down at my wrist, running my thumb over the black ink.
V-001
I quickly flip my arm back over as I hear someone coming down the steps. I sigh in relief and relax once I see itâs just Mike. I didnât even realize I had tensed up until then. He has some clothes in his hand, and a cup of water in another. I thank him and head to the bathroom with the clothes. Once Iâve locked myself in the bathroom, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Tears begin to well up in my eyes. I havenât seen myself in so long. I squeeze my eyes shut, the image in the mirror almost paining me. My once long hair had been buzzed, and only just now was growing out. I was dirty and pale, my eyes were hollow. I can see now why Mike was hesitant to trust me. Iâm not the same Ronnie he knew then.
I try to scrub my face of the dirt, the blood, the sweat, and the memories. Iâm successful cleaning off the first three. I change and throw the gown in the trash, before taking a deep breath and heading back out into the basement. Mike stands up almost immediately. His expression seems to relax at the sight of me in normal clothes, and I see a flicker of recognition in his eyes.
âYou okay?â He asks, eyebrows raised in that classic Mike Wheeler way. I nod, but we both know Iâm far from it.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Uhhhhh just found this in my drafts⌠sorry. I plan to revisit this fic soon!!!! xoxo

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first time making my own banner, yikes
sorry not sorryyyyyy Iâm a SUCKER for soft!rafe
warnings: nothing really. FINE ok ooc Rafe.
MAIN MASTERLIST
ââââââââââââââââââââââââ
What happened to you? CHAPTER TWO
Ch. I Ch. II
You and Rafe walk side by side, close in step. âYou wanna say bye to your friends first?â
You glance across the boneyard. âIrish goodbyes are kinda my thing.â
He laughs. âFigured.â
He leads you to his truck, parked not too far. He opens the passenger door for you. âChivalry isnât dead, I see.â
He shakes his head with a small smile as he rounds his truck to the driverâs seat.
He starts the truck, but you reach over and turn it off. âDid you drink?â
âNah. One beer like an hour ago.â
You remove your hand with a nod, satisfied.
You hold your hand out. He furrows his eyebrows. âWhat?â
âLighter, joint. Please.â You smile, just a bit as he complies.
You put it between your lips, but pause before lighting. âIs this okay in your truck?â Your voice is slightly muffled.
He laughs. âItâs seen much worse. Go for it.â
You light it, taking a long hit before exhaling slowly. âWhatâs with all this kindness this evening?â
He looks over, watching somewhat in awe as you inhale again, before snapping out of it.
âJust curious about the same thing everyone else is.â He pauses. âPlus⌠itâs been a while, yâknow?â
You exhale, offering it to him. He takes it from you gently, taking a hit of his own. âYeah.â A pause. âIt has been.â
You take the joint back when he hands it to you, placing it between your lips as you turn to look out the window.
âWanna hit the drive-thru for burgers? Like old times?â
âSounds good, Rafe.â
The drive is somewhat quiet, youâve rolled the window down, taking occasional hits before handing it off to Rafe.
He breaks the silence. âA year ago, this wouldâve killed you.â
You turn to him, eyebrows furrowed. âWhat do you mean? We hung outââ
âI meant the silence,â he interrupts gently.
âOh.â
You sound so small, so unlike yourself.
âYou donât have to, obviously. But, you can, you know, talk to me about, like, whatever.â
He pulls into the parking lot of the burger joint, heading towards the drive-thru.
âThanks, Rafe.â
He orders for you, and he drives out to a place you all used to hang out, on the occasion Sarah and Rafe werenât at each otherâs throats. Itâs a big rock on the beach, overlooking the water. Rafe grabs a pillow and blanket and you carry the joint in your mouth, the drink carrier in one hand, the bag of food in the other. He whips out his phone and takes a picture of you, which results in an exasperated groan from you.
âSome things never change.â He grins at you as the two of you head to the rock.
Rafe sets up a spot as you stare out at the ocean. Youâre feeling a little fuzzy now, the high definitely set in. âI love the ocean.â
Even from behind you, when he replies, you can tell heâs smiling. âI know you do, B.â
ââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Sorry until the plot develops Iâm getting bored so these will be shortâŚ.
xoxo
white boy of forever
I love Rafe Cameron
ok until I develop reader further to give her a nickname, Iâm using the initial B so sub it for yours xx
MAIN MASTERLIST
What happened to you? CHAPTER ONE
Ch. I Ch. II
ââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Rafe has known you for what feels like forever, but has seen you in all different aspects. The pogue his sister hangs out with. The girl who laughs loud and will tell you off. The hot girl who gives no guy a chance. The easygoing, friends-with-anyone, charismatic girl. The girl whose name is known by the whole island, but goes by her first initial.
But somethingâs been off recently.
You havenât been acting like yourself. Not that heâs noticedâ why would he? Okay, whoâs he fooling? He noticed, along with the entire island.
Youâre still around, but you donât laugh as much. At most, itâs usually a forced smile and a nod.
He doesnât know whatâs changed, and your face and demeanor is unreadable.
He overhears you and Sarah talking one night at a party at the Boneyard while youâre pouring a questionable amount of liquor into your cup, topping it off with a splash of juice. Not that he was paying attention.
âBabe, whatâs been going on with you recently?â Sarah asks, trying to feign being casual but the worry in her voice slips through anyways.
You take a long sip, not even flinching as it burns your throat. âWhat do you mean?â
Sarah sighs. âYou know what I mean, B.â
âItâs nothing, Sarah. Iâm all good.â You say, smiling at her as you down the rest of your drink. Sarah looks at you sadly, but doesnât press.
You make eye contact with Rafe, but he doesnât look away. He stares into your eyes, trying to get a read.
At the same time, John B. hugs Sarah from behind, lifting and spinning her as she shrieks. You excuse yourself, pouring another strong drink and walking towards the water.
Rafe follows you, slowly sauntering up beside you.
You donât turn. âWhat can I do for you, Rafe?â
âTell me what you wouldnât tell my sister.â He says casually.
âEavesdropping isnât polite.â You take another sip.
âNeither is lying to your friends.â He counters.
âI donât lie.â
Rafe moves until heâs in front of you. âMaybe so. But you avoid the truth.â
âAnd whatâs it to you, Rafe?â You sip your drink.
âEveryoneâs just⌠worried about you.â
You look up to meet his gaze. âEveryone, huh?â
âPretty much.â
âIncluding the heartless Rafe Cameron?â
He smiles (LIKE THE GIF AT THE TOP đ ).
âYeah.â He agrees.
âIâm glad to report thereâs no need to be worried.â
âI donât buy it.â
You shrug, taking another sip. âThatâs fine.â
He looks you up and down, then reaches in his pocket. He pulls out a joint and raises his eyebrows. âYou in?â
You down the rest of your drink. âOn one condition.â
âName it.â
âWe get out of here and get some food.â
He smiles at you. âDeal.â
Okkkkk halfway through writing this I decided to make it a series. I wanna write shorter pieces, and this is the first one. More of a character intro and Rafe and reader getting to know each other. My sexy husband ahhhhhh
After Midnight
summary: your boyfriend begins to take notice of how often you accidentally fall asleep during the day and canât figure out why - then he realizes itâs because of him.
warnings: angst, nightmares, mentions of blood and gore and such, some cursing, happy ending, steve is once again so damn boyfriend, probably more but thatâs all i got for now.
word count: 5.3k
from jen: this was a request, and i hope i did it justice! it got way longer than i intended but i hope you guys like it. as always, with love <3
Steve loved naps as much as the next person. I mean, after a long day of unpaid babysitting, monster hunting and hours of dealing with irritating customers at his minimum wage job, he loved the idea of jumping into bed for a few hours of shut eye.
But he definitely didnât love it as much as his beautiful girlfriend did.
He looked over at where you sat. It was early into the evening hours, you were curled in an adorable ball on the couch of the Squawk, wrapped in a handmade blanket he stole from Lucas to cover you with. Your hair was a little messy, pieces covering your face.
Youâd fallen asleep barely a few minutes after Hopper ended the weekly meeting to discuss any new findings to get you closer to Vecna. It was pretty much all the same information as last week and at this point, it was more of a formality than anything else.
Everyone had quietly dispersed after his dismissal. Nancy and Jonathan went home together, El and Mike ran up to the roof hand-in-hand for some alone time, Dustin had quickly made his way to wherever heâs been spending all his time lately. That left himself, you, Robin and Lucas inside.
Steve was standing near the projector, cleaning up papers and blueprints left under the scope. Beside him, Robin helped clean up some of the snacks the kids left behind. It was quiet for the most part, only the sound of your sleepy breathing and the faint hum of the record Robin played for the radio.
Lucas was sitting across from you, and Steve noticed the way he kept glancing over at you. He was ready to ask what his deal was before Lucas spoke up.
âShould I like, wake her up or something?â Lucas asks, looking away from you and up at Steve.
His brows furrow, hands still moving papers into their folders. âWhat? No, sheâs tired. Let her sleep,â
âYeah, sheâs sort of always tired,â Lucas mutters under his breath.
Steve canât hear even an ounce of attitude in his tone but heâs also not understanding what Lucas is implying. Next to him, Robin huffs a laugh and he whips his head at her. He doesnât like the idea of them having some sort of private conversation about you.
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â He asks. The papers are long forgotten and he crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes flicker from his best friend and the young teen.
âNothing,â Lucas shakes his head quickly, scrambling to gather his things. Steveâs annoyance spikes: so they are having a private conversation about you. So what if you fall asleep sometimes? Itâs not like youâre lazy â is that what theyâre trying to say? That youâre lazy?
Itâd be an insane implication considering how youâre almost always the first one out in the field during a crawl. El grew pretty attached to you after she closed the gate the first time and ever since then, sheâs practically begged you to accompany her everywhere and now that includes the intense training she does with Hopper â not once have you missed a session. You tag along with Steve and Dustin in the van for the late night crawls, and you volunteer for stakeouts with Nancy when it comes to the military cordon.
The last damn thing you were was lazy and he wasnât about to let anyone, his best friends included, imply otherwise.
Robin seemed to have sense his thoughts and quickly jumped to Lucasâ defense. She sets the bowls of half eaten snacks back on the table.
âThatâs not what he means, Steve,â She assures and Lucas looks grateful. Still, he doesnât soften but he lets her continue. âHeâs kinda right though. I mean, Iâm a little worried sheâs got some underlying medical condition we donât know about or something. She knocks out at the drop of a hat lately,â
âShe does not,â He scoffs but his shoulders loosen. Just barely.
Lucas jumps back in. âI wasnât trying to be a jerk, man. Iâm just worried. What if sheâs not just tired? Max still hasnât woken up, it could be something like that,â
Finally, Steve softens. He sees the fear hidden behind Lucasâ eyes and he knows how hard his forced separation from Max has been. Itâs been six months since that night at the Creel house and there was still no change for her. You and Steve have spent most of your free time with Lucas visiting her.
And no matter how scared Steve is of the possibility of you falling victim to Vecnaâs curse, he knows this isnât that. You donât have visions, you donât have nose bleeds and you very clearly have no issue sleeping. Itâs been a rough few months and youâre tired. Thatâs all.
He hopes.
âSheâs not Max, Lucas,â Steve says softly and watches the way his face falls. âSheâs not going anywhere, sheâs just napping, alright?â
The younger boy nods, and Steve knows despite his relent, heâs still worried. Robin gives Steve an empathetic smile and finishes cleaning up the dishes from the coffee table.
âCome on, Iâll drop you off at the hospital,â
Lucas smiles in return this time, happy to see his girlfriend even if sheâs still unconscious. He quickly grabs his jacket and backpack, practically running out of the building. She turns towards Steve once heâs out of earshot.
âMaybe thatâs all it is. But with our luck, it wouldnât hurt to check in with her. I donât think we can handle losing someone else,â She suggests with a shrug. Her words hit uncomfortably under his ribs, and he nods once before sheâs turning to follow Lucas.
Steve turns back towards your sleeping frame, where you havenât even twitched despite the entire conversation that took place around you. He leans down next to you, his hand raising to push the hair from your face. He watches your face and the way you look so peaceful.
The normal pinch between your brows is smoothed out, pretty pink lips slightly parted, thereâs a tired flush covering your cheeks and your fingers are loosely gripping the blanket close to your chest.
He smiles to himself, but his mind begins to wander. Maybe they were right â you did fall asleep pretty often these past couple months. Heâs not sure when it started but he knows thereâs been times heâs noticed.
Whenever he lets you know itâs safe and just a waiting game now, you fall asleep in the passenger seat of the van during crawls. You fall asleep at normal group hangouts, head resting on his shoulder and both arms wrapped around his one. You fall asleep at times like now, after a meeting is over.
He shouldnât be worried, he doesnât have a true reason to be. When youâre awake, youâre here. Youâre helping Nancy make plans, youâre helping El train, youâre helping keep the boys occupied when they get scared. Youâre just a girl who likes extra sleep, thatâs all.
Gently, his thumb glides across your cheek in a quiet way to rouse you awake. His other hand comes up and pulls the blanket from your skin. Slowly, your eyes flutter open and when they land on him, a sleepy smile covers your mouth.
âHey, pretty girl,â He canât help but wear his own matching smile. Your cheeks redden at his pet name, but he knows how much you love hearing it.
âHi Steve,â You murmur. Heâs pretty sure his heart just physically bursted in his chest â you always talk so softly, so sweetly to him. âDid I fall asleep?â
He hums and nods in response. His hand is still stroking your hair back. âJust for a bit. Everyone left, why donât we go get somethinâ to eat before we go home, yeah?â
Almost immediately, you perk up. Youâre pushing yourself off the couch, using his shoulders for balance. âMilkshakes too?â
Thereâs that adorable glint in your eyes and he knows for certain if you asked him to bring you the moon, heâd create a plan to have it in the palm of your hands within two hours.
âOf course we can get milkshakes, baby,â He promises. You gleam up at him, more than pleased, and rush to clean up the evidence of your nap. Once youâre satisfied, youâre slipping your hand in his and letting him lead you towards the car.
Steve feels content now that youâre awake and talking his ear off about basically nothing, but thereâs still something that tugs at his chest. Part of him that thinks he should bring up your excessive napping, like Robin said, but you seem so happy. If itâs truly nothing, like he knows it is, why risk upsetting you and make you feel like everyoneâs talking about your sleeping habits?
He glances down at you, and nods at the random piece of information you throw his way, and heâs made his decision. Heâll keep a better eye on you, but he wonât bring it up to you unless heâs left with no choice.
Later that night, Steve has you wrapped in his arms in your shared bed. The house is dark and quiet, only the sound of your favorite movie playing from the TV. Youâd had dinner together at his favorite diner, with two milkshakes of course, and came straight home.
Your head lays on his chest, legs tangled with his and your fingers trace little shapes â Steve is pretty sure theyâre hearts â across the skin of his arm that rests on his stomach. His other hand sits comfortably in your hair, gently running his fingers through it. He feels his exhaustion catching up to him and his eyes slowly begin to flutter.
Heâs not sure when he finally falls asleep but heâs sure youâre bound to follow right after him.
One minute, Steve is laying comfortably with his beautiful girlfriend and the next, heâs laying in a pool of his own blood. His eyes are turned upwards, staring at the swarm of Demobats flying in the dark sky, flashes of red lighting are striking every few seconds and the light it offers shows him the amount of bats multiply as they get closer.
His breathing is uneven, he can feel the terror already carved into his stomach. His heart is racing and the sound fills his ears like ringing. He takes a quick glance beside him and sees heâs surrounded by dead bodies.
Robinâs body is covered in blood, her eyes open but lifeless â her blonde hair is stained red from the blood spilling from every injury on her body. Nancy is next to her in an almost identical manner. He feels his own face wet with tears, and it only worsens when his eyes move to the other side of him and he sees Dustinâs body. He has his homemade spear clutched between his fingers, like he was fighting to the last second. Lucas is next to him, blood staining his clothes and heâs gripping Maxâs hand in his. Steve sees how all her limbs are broken, blood seeping from her eyes.
He wants to scream. It all happened so fast, but he was right there. How could he have let this happen? Heâs supposed to protect them, and now theyâre all gone. Brutally murdered right in front of him and he couldnât stop it. He couldnât save them.
He hears the bats screeching and the Demogorgons roaring get closer and he knows he has to find a way out but does he even want to? All his friends are dead.
Suddenly, your face appears in his memory. He looks around around and youâre not here. You could be alive, somewhere out here alone.
Steve forces himself to sit up and nearly cries at the painful sensation that shoots up from his abdomen to his chest. He glances down at himself, sees how his shirt is torn so bad itâs basically ripped in two. He has angry red slashes he can only assume are from Demogorgons across his ribs. Thereâs smaller cuts, like bites from the bats on his arms and chest. His arms are scratched up, spilling blood all across his skin.
Despite all the pain, he has to get to you. He couldnât save everyone else but he can save you. He has to.
Ignoring the echos of the monsters getting closer to him, he forces himself to stand â pushing down the pain spiking in his feet and up his spine from the sharp ground of the Upside Down. He tries his best to run further into the forest, but all he can manage is a limp. Still, he moves as fast as he can.
Itâs so dark down there, heâs relying on the terrifying flashes of red lighting to give him some sort of light. He moves further and further into the trees, careful to avoid any moving vines, in search of you. He ignores the burning in his weakened legs and the sharp pain from his stomach injuries.
He doesnât know how long heâs been looking for you when he finally hears it. Itâs distant and quiet but he knows itâs your voice screaming for help. His stomach drops at the way you sound so scared. So weak and broken, but youâre trying. Youâre fighting to hold on. It pushes him to move faster.
He forces himself to run towards your voice. Heâs shouting your name, begging you to keep talking to him. Heâs promising you heâs close, that heâs gonna find you and protect you.
âSteve!â He can hear your voice clearer now and he knows heâs closer to you. Thereâs a waver in your voice and he has to fight back tears. He walks a few more yards and finally, he finds you. His heart drops at the sight.
Youâre near what would be Lovers Lake in your world, lying on your back and a palm pressed tightly to your stomach. He doesnât know where the strength comes from but all the pain in his body disappears and heâs running to you.
He falls to his knees beside you, hands ready to grab you but he halts when he finally takes in your state.
Thereâs so much fucking blood.
Your hair is already matted from the blood spilling from the wound on your head. The palm pressing to your stomach is soaked in blood from the slash covering the entire right side of your stomach. Your short covered legs are littered with slightly smaller but deep cuts. But the worst is the one on your neck. Thereâs a gash that tears open the skin from just under your ear, all the way out to the middle of your throat. The wound is pouring blood, staining your beautiful skin he loves.
Steve lets out a sob at the sight of you and he doesnât even know what the fuck heâs supposed to do. You glance back at him and the only thing he can see in your eyes in pure fear.
âI-Iâm here, baby, Iâm here,â He cries. Frantically, he looks around for something â anything â to help him but thereâs nothing. Only himself. Thereâs tears streaming down your cheeks and he watches you cough up blood when you try and respond. âDonât talk, donât talk,â He rushes out. Steve tears off a large piece of fabric from his own shirt and forces it into a ball, pushing it against the wound on your neck.
You cry out from the pain of the pressure and he feels his heart break.
âI know, Iâm so sorry baby, I have â I have to stop the bleeding,â His cheeks begin to stain from his own tears as he watches you struggle.
âC-Canât bre-breathe ââ Youâre coughing out the words and more blood stains your lips. His head nods in understanding and heâs racking his brain to come up with a plan. A way to get you out of here alive.
But he doesnât even know if thatâs possible. Youâre bleeding so much, and the pressure of his shaky hands is barely enough to cover the wound on your neck. Thereâs still the injury to your stomach, the cut on your head, and the deep cuts on your legs. You wouldnât be able to walk because of them and if he somehow managed to get you up, heâd have to carry you out himself.
He wouldnât even be thinking twice if he didnât have his own injuries. The slash across his ribs is screaming in agony at him and the bites along his own legs make him weaker. What if he canât get you out? He canât let you die like this.
âIâm gonna get you out of here, okay? I promise. Youâre not gonna die in this fucking place,â He swears, carefully taking your hands and replacing his own to hold the fabric to your neck. He glances around to make sure thereâs no monsters near before sliding one arm under your knees and the other under the back of your neck and moves to lift you.
Almost immediately, youâre screaming in pain. He nearly drops you out of fear from the loud sound of your pain. Your body is shaking from pain and youâre shaking your head at him, wordlessly begging him to put you down. He knows the two of you are far from the gate and if you were in this much pain from him picking you up, you were going to feel like you were being tortured if he carried you the two mile run back to safety.
He has no choice. Quickly, he drops back down to his knees and eases you out of his arms and back onto the bloodied ground. His vision is almost completely blurred from his tears. Youâre gonna die out here, and he feels so fucking helpless.
âBaby please, I have to get you out of here,â
âYou canât,â You suddenly sob and he doesnât think he can take much more of that sound. His body is shaking â from fear, anger, anxiety, every terrible thing someone can feel. âYou were supposed to protect me, how could you let this happen?â
Blood still covers your body and youâre crying as you speak, but your voice is suddenly clear â as if thereâs not a ten inch cut covering your throat.
He feels a pang in his chest. Youâre right, heâs supposed to protect you. He dragged you into this and now youâre going to die, just like all his friends, and itâs all his fault.
âIâm sorry baby, Iâm so sorry. Iâm so sorry,â Steve sobs, gently cradling your face in his bloody hands. Blood smears across your skin.
âYou did this to me, Steve. Why didnât you save me?â
From behind him, he hears the monsters screech and clamor again and he knows itâs only a matter of minutes before they get to you both.
âPlease. Please donât leave me,â He begs. His arms are still wrapped around you and he cradles you to his chest. His arms are covered in the blood leaking from your body and it feels like youâre beginning to slip out of his arms from the amount of blood but he holds on tight.
Until you go limp.
Right there in his arms, he feels the way your body stills and falls aimlessly into his chest. No, no, no. He pulls you from his chest and when he looks down at you, your eyes are shut and your chest is unmoving.
He calls your name helplessly, tries to shake you awake but youâre not asleep. Youâre dead. His body shakes with sobs as he stares down at your emotionless face, stained with blood and all he can do is remember every time you smiled at him.
And how youâll never do it again.
The monsters are so close now, probably only a few feet away and for the first time, he wants it to be for him. He wants them to kill him, force him to be with his dead friends .. with you.
His friends are gone, you are gone and he has nothing else to live for. His greatest nightmare just came true and thereâs no waking up.
âSteve!â
Suddenly, Steveâs body is jolted upwards and heâs back in his bed.
Heâs overwhelmed with the smell of your presence. The soft cashmere and vanilla scent that makes him feel like heâs wrapped up in his very own security blanket.
He can feel your hands across his skin, trying to bring him out of his dream and back to you. He can hear you murmuring soft comforts to him, even if he canât fully grasp what youâre actually saying.
He tries his best to regain his bearings as fast as possible. His body is all but drenched in sweat, his clothes cling to his skin. Thereâs a distant ringing in his ears he canât seem to get rid of but he looks around at his surroundings.
âShh, itâs okay, it was just a dream,â Your gentle voice whispers comfortingly. Youâve managed to pull him into your arms, his face tucked under the crook of your neck and your hands slowly stroke his back.
He canât help himself when his arms squeeze you tight, almost too tight. You donât complain, you hold him just as close. He listens to the sound of your heart and does his best to use it to calm his own racing heart.
Youâre here, youâre alive. It was just a dream.
âIâm here baby, Iâm right here,â
Heâs back on the verge of tears, this time out of relief instead of fear. His nightmares are something heâs dealt with since he fought the Demogorgon at the Byers house and itâs something heâs never gotten used to. He knows for sure itâs not something he ever will.
But youâre there every time, comforting him and reminding him none of it was real.
He buries himself further into you, and you can feel his nails digging into your skin but you donât seem to care. Youâve dealt with your own share of nightmares but they never seem to be as bad as his.
You hold Steve in your arms for a long time before his breathing has returned to normal and heâs ready to talk about it. When the nightmares first started, he refused to tell you what they were about but it didnât take long for you to realize it was because it was almost always centered around losing you.
Slowly, he pulls away from your neck and lays on his back, resting against the pillow but he keeps one hand holding yours. Youâre still sitting upright, your free hand resting on his chest, just above his heart.
âDâyou wanna talk about it?â You ask.
He takes a quick glance at you and sees the concerned look on your face. That pinch between your brows is back, and despite yourself, thereâs a small frown on your lips. He takes a deep breath.
âIt was the same dream,â He begins. âI woke up down there, dead bodies all around me and youâre screaming for me. And it ends the same way..â He hesitates for a second, looking back into your beautiful eyes he loves so much. âI canât save you,â
He watches the way your eyes sadden and he hates it. He hates the way he feels like heâs burdening you with his stupid nightmares.
âIt wasnât real, Steve,â Your hand raises to cradle his jaw. âItâs never going to be real. You know why?â
Wordlessly, he waits for your response.
âBecause youâve saved me every single time. You saved me in the tunnels two years ago, you saved me from evil Russian soldiers, and you saved me from the bats down there last year,â
He feels his eyes burn but he lets you comfort him.
âYouâre always going to save me, baby. Thereâs nobody else I feel safer with than you. Nobody,â You promise fiercely and itâs enough for him to let his tears fall.
Thereâs a faint voice in the back of his head that tells him heâs weak for crying like this in front of you but when you wrap him in your arms again and coo into his ear, he canât seem to care.
Because he knows youâre right. He saved you all those times and heâd always do it. Heâd rather die than let anything happen to you and even if he has to live with these nightmares for the rest of his life, he still wakes up to you every time.
Itâs probably an hour by the time heâs completely calmed down from the nightmare and youâve sat wrapped in each others arms the whole time. When you shift to lay more comfortably, Steve looks around the room again.
He notices the TV is still playing, but itâs no longer the movie he fell asleep to. Instead, itâs Friday the 13th. Thereâs two other VHS tapes beside the TV, ones that werenât there before he fell asleep, and he also notices the array of snacks on your bedside table. When he glances at the clock, he sees itâs nearing 4:30AM and thatâs well past when heâd fallen asleep but from the looks of it, youâd stayed up.
You donât seem to notice his confusion until he shifts to lay on his side. Your head tilts up at him and he can physically see the sleepiness on your face.
âHave you been awake this whole time?â You blink up at him, but he notices the way you look almost guilty and that confirms what heâd been thinking.
You nod hesitantly. âYeah, I-I couldnât sleep,â
When you nervously bite your lip, he knows youâre lying and you know youâre caught when you see the way he tracks the movement.
Steve would probably be more inclined to believe you if he didnât have the conversation earlier about you falling asleep so often during the day. But he also canât make sense of it â youâre choosing to stay up at night and nap at random times instead of getting decent sleep at night?
You moved in with him a few weeks ago and coincidentally, thatâs around the same time you started napping more. Could it be his fault? Maybe heâs hogging the blankets, or maybe he moves too much in his sleep. He knows he runs too hot for a normal person, and maybe youâre too uncomfortable to fall asleep.
His mind races with possibilities.
âAlright, whatâs going on?â He asks and watches the way you swallow.
âHmm?â
âBabe, youâve been falling asleep in the middle of the day and tonight, youâre up and having your own movie marathon till 4am. Somethinâs up,â
He tries his best to ignore the anxiety simmering in his stomach.
âItâs nothing,â You say softly, looking away from him. Gently, he raises his hand to cup your chin and pull you back to him.
âHey, whatever it is, you can tell me,â He sounds so gentle that it breaks you almost instantly.
âI donât like to fall asleep at night,â Steveâs brow furrow at your words, but you continue, your voice timid. âI want to be there if you have a nightmare. I donât want you to wake up alone,â
Instantly, Steve is filled with guilt. Youâve been sacrificing your sleep to comfort him â but heâd never want you to do that. His nightmares donât happen every night but heâs sure youâve spent every night the past few weeks awake just in case. Probably busying yourself with movies, or a book, or just simply watching him as he slept.
He feels sick.
âBaby, I..â He sighs and heâs not even sure where to begin, and you look even more guilty. âI donât want you to stay up like that for me,â
Steve watches the way you look away from him, and youâre nervously picking down at your fingers. âI know. I just â when you wake up, you look so scared, and youâre so confused until you see me and what if I fall asleep and you have to deal with it alone?â
When you finish, you look back up at him and he sees the tears lining your eyes. He feels his chest tighten uncomfortably, because he can hear the pure love in the voice, but also the fatigue. Youâre exhausted.
Gently, he says your name and presses a kiss to your cheek. âYou donât need to be awake for me to realize where I am. When I wake up and I feel you next to me, your warmth and your breathing â thatâs enough for me, baby,â
You raise your hand to hold onto his that rests against your cheek and you sink further into his hold. âIâm sorry,â You whisper and he immediately shakes his head. âI just donât want you to feel like youâre alone,â Â
âI know, and I love you so much for caring, but I need you to be okay too â not running yourself into the ground, trying to make me feel better,â
âI am okay,â You argue, but you both know itâs futile and when he tilts his head at you, you relent. âIâm sorry,â
He strokes the apple of your cheekbone. âItâs okay, sweet girl. Iâm sorry I didnât notice earlier,â
âItâs not yâfault,â You squeeze his hand once. âI wanted to do it. Being able to see you so peacefully when you sleep, where nothing can hurt you again .. After everything, it just makes me feel better too,â
Steveâs eyes soften even worse, because you love him so much more than he ever couldâve imagined. He knows the feeling, heâs overwhelmed with it every time he looks at you, but knowing you experience the same feeling â that intense need to protect and comfort him â every night, is enough to have him on the verge of crying again.
He leans down and presses his lips to your own. Every ounce of love and adoration coming from both of you is poured into the kiss. Youâre both clinging to each other for the same reasons and he doesnât ever want to let go.
When he pulls away for air, you have a dazed look in your eyes and he knows he looks the same way.
âI promise, Iâm not going anywhere and definitely not while youâre sleeping, okay?â He murmurs against your mouth.
You nod, pecking his lips again. âOkay,â
âPromise me you wonât stay up anymore, yeah?â
Youâre nodding again, arms wrapping around his middle. âI promise,â
Steve gathers you in his arms again, pulling you to lay on his chest while he settles on his back. âGood. Now letâs both fall asleep for the next twelve hours,â
You laugh softly into his skin. âItâs 5 in the morning. We probably have less than three hours before the kids are showing up on our doorstep with a new crisis,â
Steve huffs. âLet âem deal with it alone. Youâve got a lot of sleep to catch up on,â He smiles when he hears you laugh again, but you burrow yourself further into his arms. âSleep, baby. Iâll be here when you wake up,â
Heâs not exaggerating when he says less than two minutes later, youâre snoring softly against his skin. Itâs his turn to watch you sleep and even though he knows your fear wonât go away immediately, he knows now and heâs gonna do his best to make sure youâre okay.
you seem pretty happy for a girl so single?
steve harrington x reader
|| desc - steve is well and truly in love with you, he always has been, but you couldn't seem less interested in his eyes. this leads him to think you must just be immune to his charm (impossible) or fine being single. truth is you're neither of those things, your simply oblivious, as is he too apparently.
val speaks - get it get it i did a spin on 'you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love' haa so funny basically just excited for this album đđ enjoy babas !! ++ this is another steve fic without much of the actual stranger things plot (as in the upside down) bc i loved the one i did like that the other day he he
basically a childhood friends to lovers even tho they've secretly always been lovers slowburn w some cluelessness đ
word count: 8.3k
the first thing anyone ever knew about steve harrington was that he was loud.
not loud in volume, though he could be, especially when he laughed so hard milk came out of his nose at age eight because you told him the punchline to a joke wrong on purpose, but loud in presence.
even as a little boy, steve had always seemed to fill every room he walked into, every backyard he ran through, every sidewalk he skidded his bike tires across. he was all scraped knees and crooked grins, wild hair that never sat flat no matter how much water he slapped on it, and a habit of speaking before he thought, then somehow charming his way out of whatever trouble that got him into.
and somehow, from the very beginning, wherever steve was, you were too.
your mothers liked to joke that before either of you could even walk, youâd already claimed each other. two little babies in matching sun hats sitting in paddling pools in neighbouring gardens, grabbing at each otherâs hands with sticky fingers and refusing to settle unless you were side by side. apparently, steve used to cry when your parents took you inside for naps, little fists clenched, cheeks red, angry at the universe for daring to separate him from his favourite person.
some things never really changed.
you grew up attached at the hip in the kind of way people only are when history roots itself so deep between them that pulling apart would feel like tearing skin.
you learned to ride bikes together, both of you wobbling dangerously down your street while your dads shouted instructions that neither of you listened to.
steve crashed first, straight into a hedge, and you laughed so hard you tipped over too. he came out with leaves in his hair and a branch caught in his shirt collar, grinning like an idiot, and before he even checked his own scraped elbow, he was kneeling beside you asking if you were okay.
that was steve.
always checking for you first.
there were summers spent so thoroughly tangled together they blurred into one endless golden memory.
afternoons in his parentsâ pool until your fingers wrinkled and your skin smelled permanently of chlorine, competitions to see who could hold their breath longest underwater, cannonball contests that ended with his mother yelling because water splashed onto her expensive outdoor furniture.
nights where you slept over so often that both houses stopped asking questions, your toothbrush permanently living in the bathroom connected to steveâs bedroom, one of his old shirts becoming your designated pyjama top.
you built blanket forts in his room and swore they were castles. you made secret handshakes that changed every month. you whispered under covers with flashlights when thunderstorms rolled in, talking about stupid things and serious things and everything in between.
you saw every side of each other.
the ugly sides too.
you saw steve cry the first time his dad called him a disappointment.
you saw him go quiet after, quieter than shouldâve been possible for a boy like him, shoulders tense and eyes glassy as he sat on your bedroom floor staring at nothing.
you sat beside him and said nothing at all, just leaned your shoulder against his until he leaned back.
that became your thing.
when his parents fought, he came to your house.
when his father got cruel, he came to your house.
when business trips left that giant empty house colder than winter, he stayed at your house, eating dinner at your table and laughing with your parents like he belonged there, because he did.
your mother kissed the top of his head when he looked especially worn down, your father taught him how to fix things in the garage.
your home became the place he exhaled and you became the person he always looked for first.
always.
through bad haircuts and braces and acne and awkward limbs that grew too fast for your bodies to catch up, you stayed constant.
until high school came and suddenly, painfully, neither of you were awkward anymore.
you grew into yourself quietly, like spring unfolding. pretty in a way that didnât scream for attention, but stole it anyway.
soft eyes that noticed everything. a laugh that was rarer now, but warm enough to make people chase it. intelligence that shone bright and effortless. kindness that lived in every small thing you did. helping someone pick up dropped books, remembering birthdays nobody else did, always offering your notes to the kids who missed class.
you were beautiful in the sort of way people didnât fully understand until they looked twice.
steve understood immediately.
and steve, god, steve grew into himself like heâd been handcrafted for trouble.
broad shoulders. soft brown eyes hidden behind ridiculous lashes. hair that somehow always looked perfect. that stupid smile capable of making half the female population of hawkins forget their own names.
and steve knew it.
or at least, his ego did.
king steve, they called him.
captain of popularity.
girls hanging off his arm, boys desperate for his approval, parties every weekend. loud music, expensive beer stolen from his parentsâ liquor cabinet, people packed into his house hoping to breathe the same air as him.
he played the part beautifully.
cocky grin, easy charm, careless laughter, pretty girls, empty conversations. but there were things everyone noticed that nobody understood.
how steve only went to parties if you were invited too, even when you almost never came. how he always looked around rooms like he was searching for someone. how if anybody talked badly about you, even as a joke, his entire face changed. how he got mean.
how no girl, no matter how gorgeous, ever lasted long.
how every relationship seemed flimsy compared to the quiet girl who sat beside him in class helping him pass english, who rolled her eyes at his jokes but smiled anyway, who knew where he kept spare house keys and which scar on his knee came from which childhood disaster.
what nobody knew was that steve harrington loved you so badly it ached.
it lived in him like breathing. natural, constant, unavoidable. it was in the way he memorised everything about you.
how you tucked your hair behind your ear when concentrating. how you chewed on pen caps while studying. how you always gave him the marshmallows from your hot chocolate because you hated them and he loved them. how your nose scrunched when you laughed for real. how you never noticed when boys stared because you were too busy living inside your own head.
it killed him a little, that obliviousness.
because steve flirted constantly.
he tested waters in stupid ways.
telling you about girls he hooked up with, watching your face for any crack in your expression.
there never was one.
just your soft, distracted little hums. sometimes a wrinkled nose if the girl sounded awful. sometimes advice.
advice.
jesus christ.
heâd stare at you, really stare, eyes warm and helpless and completely gone for you, and youâd blink back like he was just steve.
just your steve.
your best friend.
meanwhile, he was halfway to insanity.
what steve never saw were all the quiet ways you loved him back.
how you kept every note heâd ever scribbled you. how no boy ever compared, which was why youâd only dated twice and barely liked either of them. how every time he brought a girl around, something sharp and sour twisted in your chest. how you knew the exact shade of hazel his eyes turned in sunlight.
how you sometimes laid awake at night, staring at your ceiling, replaying the way he smiled at you that day or how his hand rested warm on your back guiding you through crowds.
how your motherâs teasing words looped endlessly in your head.
you and stevie were made for each other.
youâd laugh it off, call her crazy, then spend hours wondering if maybe she wasnât. wondering if steve could ever look at you and see more.
wondering what it would feel like if he kissed you. wondering if kissing steve would ruin everything, or finally make sense of everything that already existed between you.
and every morning after, youâd wake up and slip right back into your place beside him like those thoughts had never happened at all.
best friends.
always.
completely blind to the fact that the boy beside you was one heartbeat away from loving you out loud.
and equally blind to the fact that you already loved him too.
-
life carried on the way it always had.
which was strange, really, considering there was this constant thing sitting between you and steve. neither of you touched it, neither of you spoke it aloud, but it lived there all the same. tucked into glances that lingered too long, into hugs that held just a second more than necessary, into the easy way your lives folded around each other like they were built to fit.
more days turned into more weeks, more weeks into more months, and everything stayed beautifully, painfully normal.
you still sat with him while he copied your homework answers in that messy handwriting of his, tongue poking slightly into his cheek in concentration like he was actually trying, even though half the time he was writing complete nonsense because he was too busy talking to focus.
you still spent lunches together. sometimes alone, sometimes with your few close friends, sometimes with whatever crowd steve had orbiting him that week, but even in a room full of people, his attention always drifted back to you.
always.
you were still the first number he called. still the person he showed up for without asking. still the person he looked for in every crowded room.
and he was still yours in all the ways that mattered, without ever actually being yours at all.
one night after dinner at your house, your mother insisting steve stay because sheâd made too much food, as if she hadnât been cooking with him in mind from the start, the two of you found yourselves in your bedroom, exactly where you always ended up.
lying on the floor.
side by side.
staring at the ceiling.
it was a strange little ritual youâd created years ago, one that somehow stuck. whenever something weighed heavy on either of you, whenever thoughts got too loud or life got too complicated, you ended up here. flat on your backs, shoulders nearly touching, eyes aimed upward like answers might be written in the cracks of your ceiling paint.
this was where the real conversations happened.
not the casual chatter, not gossip, not jokes, this was where truths lived. the ugly ones, the tender ones, the ones neither of you gave anybody else.
steve let out a long breath beside you, one hand resting on his stomach, the other tucked behind his head.
âheâs doing it again.â
you turned your head slightly toward him.
âyour dad?â
he laughed once, humourless.
âwho else?â
his jaw tightened, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
âheâs on this whole thing about how i need to start learning the business now, so when he retires i can just⌠step in.â his voice hardened around the words. âlike itâs some fucking honour.â
you stayed quiet.
youâd learned years ago that steve needed space to unravel before he needed comfort.
âhe talks about it like heâs handing me a kingdom,â he muttered. âwhen really heâs handing me a prison sentence.â
your chest tightened.
because underneath the bitterness, underneath the anger, you heard what steve wasnât saying.
he was scared, scared of becoming him. scared of looking in the mirror one day and seeing his father staring back.
steve scrubbed a hand over his face.
âi swear to god, iâd rather work in some shitty grocery store for the rest of my life than do what he does.â
that made you smile softly.
not because it was funny, though the dramatic way he said it was very steve, but because you knew him.
you knew this wasnât about business being boring this was about morality. about goodness. about the way steve, despite all his pretending and ego and polished king-of-hawkins image, had the softest heart of anybody you knew.
he wanted to be kind, gentle. different. nothing like the man whoâd raised him.
you reached your hand out between you, your pinky brushing lightly against his.
âwhat do you actually want?â you asked quietly.
âwhat?â
âafter high school.â you looked back up at the ceiling. âcollege. life. what do you want, stevie?â
the room went quiet for a second, then two. then he laughed softly under his breath. not a happy laugh, the sad kind.
the self-deprecating kind.
âcollege?â he scoffed. âcâmon.â
you frowned instantly.
âdonât do that.â
âdo what?â
âact like youâre stupid.â
he turned his head to look at you then, brown eyes soft in the dim lamp light.
âiâm not exactly ivy league material.â
âyouâre smarter than you think.â
âiâm really not.â
âyou are.â
there was firmness in your voice now, the kind that always made him listen.
âyou just donât try because somewhere along the line, somebody convinced you there was no point.â
his expression shifted. small, almost wounded, because you always saw right through him.
always.
you kept going, softer now.
âyouâre smart, steve. genuinely smart. not even just academically, you read people better than anyone i know. you remember everything that matters. youâre creative. funny. emotionally intelligent, even if you pretend you arenât.â you nudged his shoulder gently. âand if i have to spend the rest of my life reminding you of that, i will.â
steve stared at you and god, there was that look again. that look that made your stomach turn over.
warm, completely devastating. then, because he was steve, he ruined the moment on purpose.
âwell,â he sighed dramatically, âin that case, iâll just follow you wherever you go.â
you snorted.
âoh yeah?â
âabsolutely.â he folded his hands over his chest. âbe your little house wife.â
that made you laugh properly.
bright and sudden.
the kind of laugh that always made him smile like heâd won something.
âhouse wife?â
âyeah.â
âyou?â
âiâd be incredible at it.â
âyou canât cook.â
âi can make toast.â
âyou burn toast.â
âcrispy toast.â
you laughed harder and soon he was laughing too, that big, warm laugh that filled your whole room.
then the laughter settled into something softer. comfortable quiet. and somewhere in that quiet, the strange truth of it hung there,
every version of the future either of you had ever imagined always included the other. always.
sometimes you were neighbours with houses connected by a garden gate. sometimes coworkers. sometimes roommates in a big city. sometimes pen pals, a ridiculous idea born from sixteen-year-old steve drunkenly declaring he was moving to italy after eating pasta he called religious.
you still teased him for that.
but every dream, every joke, every passing thought about what came next, included us.
never 'me'. never 'you'. always us.
neither of you spoke about the deeper version of that dream.
the one with shared mornings. shared beds. children with messy hair and stubborn attitudes. a home that belonged equally to both of you.
but somewhere, buried deep, youâd both imagined it.
more than once.
steve swallowed hard against that thought.
then casually, too casually, he asked,
âhow come youâre still single?â
you turned your head.
âyouâre single too.â
a slow smirk spread across his mouth.
âyeah, but i havenât always been.â
you rolled your eyes.
âneither have i.â
âmiddle school boyfriends donât count.â
you laughed.
âaccording to who?â
âaccording to me.â
you shook your head, smiling, then shrugged.
âi donât know.â
and that answer sat strangely warm in steveâs chest.
because maybe, maybe you liked being single. maybe there was nobody. maybe it wasnât that you didnât want him specifically.
weirdly, that hurt less.
he smiled faintly, staring back up at the ceiling.
then you asked quietly,
âwhy havenât you settled down with anyone?â
his chest tightened because there were a thousand truths he could say. because iâm in love with my best friend. because nobody feels like you. because every girl i kiss isnât you.
instead, he shrugged.
âi donât know.â
and selfishly, your heart liked that answer far more than the possibility of him loving somebody else.
silence settled again.
then steve spoke, voice quieter than before, serious,
âpromise me something.â
âanything.â
he turned his head toward you.
there was vulnerability there, raw and boyish and achingly honest.
âdonât forget me.â
your brows pulled together instantly.
âsteve-â
âi mean it.â he swallowed. âwhen all this ends. when college happens, life happens⌠if we end up in different placesâŚâ his voice got softer. âdonât forget about me.â
your whole chest ached because forgetting steve harrington would be like forgetting your own name.
impossible.
you reached across the floor and took his hand fully. fingers threading together like second nature. like instinct. like home.
you squeezed once.
âneverâ you whispered.
and steve squeezed back, holding your hand in the dark like it was something precious.
something worth keeping.
âpromise?â
you smiled softly.
âi promise.â
neither of you realised then just how much that promise would come to mean.
-
by the time prom season rolled around, steve was losing his goddamn mind.
he sat at the edge of his bed one night, elbows on his knees, staring blankly at the carpet while every thought in his head somehow circled back to you.
which, admittedly, wasnât unusual. most roads in steveâs mind led to you, had for years.
but this was different, this was bigger.
this was prom.
the last school dance.
the final stupid, sweaty gymnasium decorated with cheap streamers and glitter and songs that would probably suck and punch that tasted vaguely like chemicals.
and steve wanted one thing.
just one.
you.
not in the way heâd had you before. showing up together because thatâs what you always did, wandering in side by side because steve bringing you was as natural as breathing, dancing stupidly together in between him getting dragged off by friends and you laughing at him from the sidelines.
not as best friends.
not as what everyone already assumed you were.
he wanted to take you, really take you.
wanted to stand on your doorstep with flowers and nerves and sweaty palms. wanted to tell you you looked beautiful and mean it so hard it hurt. wanted to dance with his hands on your waist and know it meant something different.
wanted one night where he could pretend, or maybe, if he got lucky, not pretend at all.
so he came up with a plan.
a stupid plan. a deeply embarrassing plan. a plan that, in hindsight, made him want to throw himself directly into traffic.
he was going to make it obvious.
not say it, because apparently despite being steve harrington, king of confidence, he became a complete coward when it came to you, but obvious enough.
obvious enough that if you smiled a little wider than usual, blushed even slightly, acted flustered in any way heâd ask you.
simple. easy. foolproof.
except it was none of those things.
because monday morning, the second he pulled into your driveway, he already started acting insane.
normally, steve would pull up, lean dramatically on the horn once, and wait while you came out rolling your eyes.
his logic always being, your house is right there, you can hear the horn when i get in the car.
instead, that morning, he got out. walked to your front door. and knocked. actually knocked.
when you opened it, bag over your shoulder, hair still slightly messy from rushing around getting ready, he nearly forgot every coherent thought in his head.
you blinked at him then squinted suspiciously.
ââŚwhy are you at my door?â
he immediately panicked internally.
say something cool.
say something normal.
âfelt like it.â
idiot.
your eyes narrowed further, mouth twitching like you were fighting a smile.
âokayâŚâ
you kept looking at him funny all the way to the car, and honestly, fair enough.
but then he made it worse.
because when you reached the passenger side, he darted ahead and opened your door for you.
you stopped dead.
âwhat are you doing?â
steve leaned against the open door casually, like he wasnât having a full body crisis.
âbeing nice?â
you laughed softly, confused and amused all at once.
âyou are nice.â
âbeing nicer.â
you stared at him for a second then shook your head, smiling to yourself as you got in. that smile hit him like a truck.
holy shit.
was that wider than normal? was that flirty? was that polite?
what did that mean-
and thus began the longest week of steve harringtonâs life.
because once he started, he couldnât stop.
every class you didnât share, he was waiting outside when the bell rang.
leaning against lockers trying to look casual, heart kicking up every time your face lit up when you saw him.
he carried your books.
your bag.
once, your stupid heavy history textbook that you always complained about.
he held doors open.
walked you to every class.
blew off tommy and half his friend group every lunch just to sit with you.
actually did his half of your joint assignment, not copied, not barely attempted, actually did it, and when you looked at him like heâd grown another head, he just shrugged like it was no big deal while internally screaming notice me.
he bought you lunch monday.
again on wednesday.
again on thursday.
sat in the library with you after school willingly.
willingly. the library.
for hours.
and every single thing you did made his brain short circuit.
because you just accepted it. completely. you didnât question him much, didnât pull away, didnât act weird, didnât reject any of it. you simply smiled that sweet little smile and let him fuss over you.
let him carry your things. let him buy your lunch. let him walk you around school like you were something precious.
and worst of all you looked happy about it. which shouldâve been good. right? that shouldâve been good.
except now steve was spiralling because what the hell did happy mean?
did you know what he was doing? were you oblivious? were you pitying him? were you just enjoying the attention?
meanwhile, you were living in your own version of insanity.
because steve had always made you feel special.
always.
from childhood to now, there had never been a moment where you doubted your place in his life.
but this?
this was different. this was soft, intentional. sweet in ways that made your stomach flip.
it felt suspiciously like being courted. like being wanted. like being his girl.
and god you liked it. liked it so much it scared you. so no, you didnât question it. because if you asked, what if it stopped? what if he laughed and said he was just messing around? what if this tenderness disappeared?
so instead, you quietly soaked it in.
let yourself pretend just for a little while. let yourself imagine this was what loving steve openly might feel like.
which meant steveâs giant, ridiculous plan was failing spectacularly for one very simple reason-
the both of you were idiots.
by friday, steve was at breaking point.
he sat in his last class barely hearing a word the teacher said, knee bouncing under the desk.
what the hell was happening? surely by now, if you liked him, you wouldâve said something. asked him what all this meant. given him something obvious back.
right?
unless you didnât like him. unless you just thought he was being nice. unless this was normal to you because heâd always treated you well and you saw no difference.
jesus christ.
heâd spent an entire week acting like a lovesick freak and somehow ended up more confused than when he started.
the final bell rang and steve made a decision.
enough.
no more weird signals, no more spiralling, no more stupid plans.
he was asking you tonight.
flat out.
whatever happened, happened because he was absolutely not surviving another week of this.
what steve didnât know was that at that exact same moment, sitting in class chewing the end of your pen and smiling stupidly to yourself remembering how he tucked your hair behind your ear at lunch you were thinking,
please donât stop whatever this is.
please let me keep having this version of you.
even if itâs not real.
even if itâs only for a little while.
-
steve waited outside your last class.
again.
at this point, it had become routine. somewhere in his ridiculous attempt at flirting came a habit heâd accidentally fallen in love with.
there was just something about it.
the way your face always softened the second you spotted him leaning against the lockers. the little smile you never seemed able to hold back. the way you automatically walked toward him, like your feet knew where they belonged before your brain caught up.
it made something warm settle in his chest every single time.
so yes, even if his original reasons for waiting outside your classes had been pathetic and embarrassingly romantic, now he did it simply because he liked it.
liked being the person you looked for, liked walking beside you through crowded halls, liked carrying your books even when you insisted they âwerenât heavy.â
liked the feeling of everyone seeing you together.
he liked it far too much.
that friday, though, he was restless.
you noticed almost immediately.
the way his fingers tapped against his leg. the way his jaw kept tightening. the way he kept opening his mouth like he wanted to say something, only to close it again.
still, you didnât ask.
if there was one thing years of knowing steve harrington had taught you, it was that when he was ready to talk, he would.
until then, you let silence be comfortable.
and it always was with him.
the drive home was dipped in golden evening light, quiet except for the radio humming softly in the background and the occasional sound of steve drumming his thumbs against the steering wheel.
when he took a corner too fast his hand instinctively shot out, catching your thigh for a second to steady you.
warm, solid, gone too quickly.
neither of you said anything but your stomach flipped anyway.
when he pulled up between your houses, you reached for the door handle-
âwait.â
your hand froze.
you turned back.
steve looked terrified, actually terrified.
your heart immediately started hammering.
oh my god.
oh my god.
was he-
this was it. this had to be it.
the weird week, the sweet gestures, the way heâd been looking at you, the way heâd been hovering close like he couldnât help himself-
this was him asking you to prom.
your whole body went warm.
steve swallowed hard. right. just say it.
say prom.
âdo you wanna go prom-â
your breath caught.
his heart launched into his throat.
â-dress shopping with me?â
silence.
steve internally punched himself in the face.
coward. absolute coward.
you blinked.
then laughed softly, trying to ignore how quickly hope had risen and crashed in your chest.
âare you getting a dress this year too, stevie?â
he huffed a little laugh, looking down, shaking his head.
âno, i meanâŚâ he rubbed the back of his neck. âyâknow, iâll drive us to the city. we can get all fancy and buy expensive shit we probably donât need. get ice cream on the way home.â
he looked up at you then.
hopeful. boyish.
impossibly handsome.
you smiled, a real one.
âthat sounds nice.â
his shoulders loosened instantly.
âyeah?â
âyeah.â
you opened the door, stepping out, then turned back with a grin.
âitâs a date.â
and walked away.
steve sat frozen in his car.
date.
date?
did you mean date date?
or date as in phrase?
people said that all the time.
right?
right??
he smacked his forehead gently against the steering wheel.
meanwhile, halfway to your front door, you were spiralling too.
why would you say itâs a date? why would you say that?
that sounds romantic. that sounds intentional. heâs going to think you meant it romantically.
except he doesnât like you.
probably.
so now you sound insane.
great.
perfect.
wonderful.
still, somehow, both of you went to bed smiling because stupid was easier when it felt this good.
-
nice and early the next morning, steve was at your door.
knocking.
again.
except this time when you opened it, you were very much not ready.
hair wild, sleep still heavy in your eyes, oversized sleep shirt hanging off one shoulder, soft pyjama shorts, bare legs and sleepy confusion.
steve forgot how breathing worked.
you frowned at him.
âwhy are you here?â
his brain completely short circuited.
ââŚshopping.â
you groaned.
âshit.â
you looked over your shoulder at the clock and winced.
âi overslept.â
steve finally recovered enough to shrug casually.
âiâll wait.â
he walked past you like he belonged there, because he did, headed straight to your room, kicked off his shoes, and threw himself face down onto your bed.
dramatically, arms spread, muffled voice immediately rambling into your duvet.
âhad the weirdest dream last night.â
you stood at your mirror trying to brush your hair while pulling on jeans.
âwhat?â
more muffled nonsense.
something about a shark. your third grade teacher. a ferrari. possibly italy.
you laughed.
âi understood none of that.â
he lifted his face slightly, cheek squished against your pillow.
âit made sense in dream logic.â
âsure.â
then face planted again, continuing to ramble while you got ready, his voice muffled into your blankets.
it was domestic in a way neither of you thought too hard about.
easy, dangerously easy.
soon enough, you were in the car headed toward the city.
the windows down, music loud. summer warmth creeping in. you stopped at a roadside place for breakfast sandwiches, then got back on the road. where steve immediately became unbearable.
âbite.â
you looked at him.
ââŚwhat?â
âfeed me.â
âyou have hands.â
âiâm driving. i need to concentrate.â
you stared.
he opened his mouth expectantly.
âbite.â
your eyes narrowed, he looked ridiculous.
you hated how cute it was.
with a sigh, you held the sandwich up for him. he leaned over dramatically, taking a huge bite, cheeks full like a chipmunk.
you laughed despite yourself.
âyouâre such an idiot.â
secretly, steve loved the little annoyed crease between your brows. loved making you roll your eyes. loved that you always indulged him anyway.
shopping somehow started with your dress.
steve had expected torture. hours of standing around, fabric talk, waiting, boredom.
instead he got to watch you try on dresses, which was apparently heaven. every single dress had him losing his mind quietly.
blue. green. white. sparkly. simple. dramatic.
even the absolutely hideous monstrosity he tossed into your pile as a joke, some bright orange ruffled nightmare, looked unfairly cute because you came out striking poses and making ridiculous model faces until he laughed so hard he nearly cried.
âthat one?â you asked, spinning.
âburn it.â
you grinned.
but then you stepped out wearing soft baby pink.
simple, elegant, gentle, completely you, and steve forgot how to speak.
you looked beautiful.
not pretty, not cute, beautiful. the kind that hurt to look at because it made wanting feel too big inside his chest.
you smiled shyly at your reflection.
âi kinda love this one.â
steve could only nod.
because if he opened his mouth, heâd probably propose.
when you disappeared back into the changing room after trying on the final dress, leaving the pink dress hanging outside, steve moved instantly.
straight to the register.
money down.
done.
easy.
when the cashier smiled warmly and said, âthatâs sweet- paying for your girlfriendâs prom dressâ
steve didnât even think, didnât correct her, just smiled softly.
âyeah.â
the word slipped out naturally like truth. he walked back holding the dress bag proudly. when you emerged and saw it, your face scrunched instantly.
âsteve harrington-â
âdonât start.â
âi told you i was buying it-â
he shrugged, smiling.
âitâs our last prom, princess. gotta treat you right.â
princess. that stupid nickname. it hit you exactly where it always did.
that awful lovely feeling.
but youâd become very good at hiding it so you only rolled your eyes.
âyouâre ridiculous.â
âand generous.â
âannoyingly generous.â
âyou love me.â
you smiled softly.
âyeah.â
the quiet honesty of it made his chest tighten because you meant it one way and he heard it another.
then he grinned, standing.
âcâmon.â
you looped your arm through his without thinking.
âyour turn.â
shopping for steveâs suit was, thankfully, much quicker.
mostly because he cared significantly less than you did.
he tried on maybe three jackets, two pairs of trousers, one shirt, then stood in front of the mirror shrugging like, yeah, this oneâs fine, while you looked at him like heâd lost his mind.
âfine?â you repeated.
steve adjusted the collar lazily. âyeah.â
âfine is your final prom outfit?â
he looked down at himself.
navy suit. clean lines, fitted enough to make his shoulders look unfairly broad. white shirt, sleeves rolled halfway while he changed ties.
hair slightly messy from pulling shirts over his head.
beautiful, unfortunately.
he shrugged again.
âlooks good enough.â
you stared.
âgood enoughâ you echoed flatly.
his grin only widened âmhm.â
but then, then he did something so stupidly sweet that your entire brain briefly stopped functioning.
the woman helping fit him asked what colour tie he wanted, before she could even list options, steve answered immediately.
âbaby pink.â
you blinked.
he looked over at you casually.
âto match your dress.â
simple, matter-of-fact. like it was obvious. like there was never another option.
to match your dress.
your heart practically punched through your ribs because it was little things. always little things with steve. the details, the quiet thoughtfulness, the instinctive way he always included you in everything.
the way matching your dress mattered to him.
not because it was prom, not because it was fashion, but because it was yours.
you stood there smiling like an idiot while he tried on ties, your mind spiralling somewhere far, far away.
and honestly?
you barely paid attention to anything else after that.
just him.
his hands fixing his cuffs, his soft smile when he caught you staring, the way he kept glancing toward you for approval.
god.
you were in trouble. deep trouble.
when you guys got in the car both taking a deep breath, pausing before the long drive home, you stopped him.
âsteve?â
his hand froze on the key.
âyeah?â
your heart hammered.
this was insane, absolutely insane but suddenly you couldnât keep waiting, couldnât keep wondering. couldnât keep pretending every soft thing between you didnât mean something.
so you looked at him and did exactly what heâd been trying to do all week.
âdo you wanna go to prom with me?â
steve blinked.
once.
twice.
ââŚwhat?â
you smiled nervously.
âprom.â
he laughed softly, confused.
âwe always go together.â
you swallowed then forced yourself to say it.
âi mean⌠properly with me, steve.â
his entire body went still, heart pounding so hard he could hear it.
âwhat?â
god.
he looked so confused, so beautiful.
and suddenly courage, reckless, terrifying courage, grabbed hold of you. you leaned forward and kissed him.
soft, quick.
the second your lips touched his, your whole body lit up like lightning.
then panic immediately followed.
oh god.
what did you just do?
you pulled back instantly, mouth already opening to explain, apologise, ramble, but steveâs hand came up, cupping your cheek.
warm, gentle, and he pulled you right back in.
kissed you properly.
like heâd been starving. like he knew exactly what your lips would feel like because heâd imagined it a thousand times, but somehow it was still better.
so much better.
you could actually feel him melt, his whole body softened into it and then, that little sound.
a quiet sigh against your mouth.
soft, content, completely helpless. it shot straight into your chest. your new favourite sound. absolutely.
when he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing hard, smiling in complete disbelief.
then he said-
âi hate you.â
your eyes flew open.
ââŚwhat?â
he laughed breathlessly.
âi have been waiting my whole life for you to show literally any sign that you liked me.â he pulled back enough to look at you, eyes wide with mock offence. âand the one week i actually decide to try and something about it, you beat me to it.â
you burst out laughing then he did too, forehead dropping back against yours. then suddenly he leaned back fully, staring at you like you were insane.
âno, seriously- what?â
you blinked.
âwhat?â
âwhy now?â
you shrugged, cheeks warm.
âiâve always liked you, stevie.â
steveâs jaw actually dropped.
âwhat?â
you laughed.
âiâve always liked you.â
âthen why didnât you say anything?!â
you gave him a look.
âwhy didnât you?â
he stared at you like the answer was obvious.
âbecause you never acted like you wanted me back. ever.â
you frowned.
âmaybe youâre oblivious.â
steve scoffed so hard it was almost offensive then gave you the most irritated look imaginable.
âi do not wanna hear you call anybody oblivious. you are the most oblivious person alive.â
you gasped.
âno iâm not.â
âyes, you are.â
âiâm cautious.â
âcautious of what?â
you went quieter then.
honest.
âreading too far into things.â your fingers picked at your sleeve. âyou couldâve just been being nice, yâknow? i didnât wanna lose you.â
steveâs whole face softened instantly.
his hand found yours.
squeezed.
âin no world do you lose me, idiot.â
your eyes rolled automatically, mostly because if you looked at him too long you might cry.
then, lighter, you said,
âbeen waiting your whole life?â you smiled. âdramatic ass.â
he laughed then shook his head.
âno, iâm serious.â
âright.â
âi am.â
âokay, sure-â
before you could argue, he grabbed your face again and kissed you hard. full of grin and relief and years of built-up wanting.
when he pulled back, he was smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.
âand yeah,â he murmured. âiâll go to prom with you.â
he winked.
âitâs a date.â
you groaned, laughing.
âthat line was awful.â
âworked the first time.â
you shoved his shoulder.
he caught your hand, kissed your knuckles and then finally started the car.
the drive home was spent sharing ice cream, stealing kisses at red lights, and smiling so much both your faces hurt.
and when he parked between your houses that evening for the first time going home next door didnât feel like enough.
because now, finally, you knew exactly where home was.
and it was sitting in the driverâs seat, smiling at you like heâd found his whole world.
-
the week leading up to prom was, quite possibly, the happiest either of you had ever been.
which was saying something, considering you and steve had spent your whole lives making happiness out of ordinary things.
bike rides and late-night talks. pool days and movie nights. studying together, even when steve mostly just distracted you.
shared dinners. inside jokes.
the quiet comfort of simply existing side by side.
you had already built a life around each other long before romance ever entered the picture.
but now there was kissing. and, quite frankly, that improved everything.
the strange thing was, almost nothing about your relationship changed, and somehow, everything changed.
you still woke up most mornings to the sound of steveâs car horn, or, more recently, to the sound of him knocking on your front door because apparently now he liked seeing your sleepy face. you still rode to school together, still shared lunches, still studied in the library after classes, still spent evenings draped across each otherâs bedroom floors talking about life until one of you fell asleep mid-conversation.
you were still you.
he was still steve.
best friends in every way that mattered.
except now, when he saw you, his face immediately softened into the most helpless smile. except now, his hand naturally found yours every chance it got. except now, when he dropped you off at home, you kissed him goodnight. except now, when he made you laugh, he looked at your mouth afterwards like he couldnât help himself.
except now, he kissed you whenever the urge struck him, which was often.
very often.
because steve had apparently been suppressing years of affection, and now that he was allowed to touch you the way heâd always wanted he simply never stopped.
a kiss on your forehead when he saw you in the morning. a kiss on your cheek while waiting in line for lunch. a kiss against your temple while you studied.
a quick peck when he passed you in the hallway. a longer one when nobody was looking.
soft kisses, laughing kisses, hungry kisses that left you breathless, lazy kisses that happened just because you were standing close.
sometimes heâd stop mid-sentence, stare at you for a second, then kiss you like heâd just remembered he could.
when youâd laugh and ask what that was for, heâd just grin.
âbeen wanting to for years.â
as if that explained everything. as if that wasnât enough to make your heart explode every single time.
steve, somehow, became even sweeter.
which you honestly hadnât thought possible.
he was constantly touching you in little ways. fingers brushing yours, hand on the small of your back, absentmindedly tucking your hair behind your ear, resting his chin on your shoulder while reading over your work even though he wasnât actually reading any of it.
he looked at you like you were his favourite thing on earth, like he still couldnât quite believe this was real.
truthfully, he couldnât.
steve had spent years loving you quietly, years convincing himself he was okay with just having you however he could get you.
best friend. neighbour. constant companion.
he had told himself that was enough.
it hadnât been, not really.
and now he got to kiss you. hold your hand. hear you call him yours in little casual ways that made his brain completely short circuit.
my stevie.
mine.
god.
heâd never been happier.
and you felt exactly the same.
you werenât even officially dating yet. somehow, neither of you had actually labelled whatever this was, but it didnât matter.
you were his.
he was yours.
everyone knew it.
that was enough.
for now.
then prom night arrived.
you spent the afternoon at your friendâs house with your three closest girlfriends, all of you crowded around mirrors with makeup scattered everywhere, hairspray thick in the air, music playing too loudly in the background while laughter bounced off the walls.
it was chaos, beautiful chaos.
and, naturally, your friends spent most of it teasing you mercilessly.
âfinally,â one of them said dramatically while curling your hair. âdo you understand how painful itâs been watching you two circle each other for years?â
another snorted from where she was doing eyeliner.
âliterally years.â
âit was embarrassing,â the third added. âfor everyone involved.â
you laughed, shaking your head.
âwe were not that obvious.â
three deadpan looks met your reflection in the mirror.
then all together-
âyou were.â
one of them groaned dramatically.
âhe looked at you like you hung the moon.â
you covered your face.
âokay, stop.â
they only laughed harder but beneath the teasing was genuine relief. everyone who loved you had been waiting for this, waiting for you both to finally stop being idiots, waiting for the inevitable.
because to everyone else you and steve had always been a love story waiting to happen.
later, after hugs and promises to meet at prom, you headed home to get dressed.
and when you finally stepped into your baby pink dress, the same one steve secretly bought for you, you stared at yourself for a long moment.
soft curls framing your face, makeup gentle and glowing, the pink bringing warmth to your skin.
for once, nerves hit.
not because of prom.
because of steve.
because you wanted him to look at you and feel what you always felt when you looked at him.
then, a knock at the door.
your stomach flipped instantly.
you carefully made your way downstairs, hand lightly gripping the banister so you wouldnât trip over your own feet and halfway down, you froze.
your mother had already opened the door.
steve was standing inside.
flowers in hand, pink flowers, the exact shade of your dress, suit fitted perfectly, tie matching you exactly like heâd planned, hair done but still somehow perfectly messy, looking so unfairly handsome it almost knocked the breath from your lungs.
then he looked up and froze. completely.
his whole body went still, flowers slackening slightly in his hand. mouth parting, eyes wide.
you nearly froze too but you also nearly missed a step, so survival instincts forced you forward.
when you reached him, smiling shyly, steve still looked stunned.
then softly, so softly,
âyou look so beautiful."
his voice full of awe.
you felt your cheeks warm.
âyou look handsome.â
that snapped him into a grin.
your mother immediately started gushing.
âoh, look at you two-â
your father, already prepared, handed her the old camera.
same tradition every dance, same photo spot every year.
except this year felt different, this year felt important.
steveâs hand settled naturally on your waist.
firm, warm, possessive in the gentlest way. you tucked into his side and both of you smiled brighter than you ever had before.
click.
perfect.
the second you stepped outside and the front door shut behind you steve kissed you. immediately. like he physically couldnât help it.
you laughed softly against his mouth when he pulled away.
âwhat was that for?â
he shrugged, smiling.
âsorry. i feel like i have to all the time now.â
you blinked.
he looked adorably sheepish.
âi waited too long before.â
your whole chest melted.
you stood on your toes and kissed his cheek.
âgood job i donât mind.â
his smile widened impossibly.
the drive there was perfect. madonna played loudly, steve complained-
âthis song again?â
-while secretly singing every word.
badly. using one hand as a fake microphone. you laughed until your stomach hurt and when he caught you looking at him with that soft smile he winked.
god.
you were doomed.
prom itself was⌠nice.
crowded, hot, loud. friends dragged you apart almost immediately, his crowd calling him over, yours pulling you in. reluctantly, you separated. but only briefly. because, like always, you found your way back to each other.
effortlessly, like magnets, just in time for the slow dance.
his hands found your waist, yours looped around his neck. you swayed together beneath dim lights, forehead resting lightly against his, smiling softly at nothing and everything.
it was perfect, too perfect, too short. because when the song ended, steve frowned.
âthatâs bullshit.â
you laughed.
âwhat?â
ânot enough dancing.â
before you could ask what he meant, he grabbed your hand and started pulling you through the crowd.
out the doors, into the parking lot.
you were laughing the whole time.
âstevie- what are you doing?â
he just laughed breathlessly.
âtrust me.â
he dragged you to his car, opened the door, turned the radio on, shoved in a cassette, then david bowie filled the warm night air.
steve dramatically bowed.
held out his hand.
âmay i have this dance?â
you laughed so hard your cheeks hurt then placed your hand in his.
under stars, in a mostly empty parking lot, next to his car, you slow danced.
giggling, stepping on each otherâs feet, swaying dramatically, kissing halfway through because neither of you could help yourselves.
it was perfect. better than prom itself.
afterwards, breathless and smiling, you both looked toward the building, then at each other and silently agreed-
fuck prom.
ice cream was mandatory, then home.
summer air still warm enough that sitting in his back garden felt perfect.
until suddenly steve gasped, shot upright and ran to the pool, crouching beside it staring in dramatically.
you followed quickly.
âwhat? what?â
he waved urgently.
âcome look.â
you leaned closer and he shoved you in. cold water swallowed you whole. when you surfaced gasping, steve was doubled over laughing.
that little bitch.
fine.
game on.
you frowned dramatically.
âow- steve-â
his laughter stopped instantly.
ââŚwhat?â
you grabbed your arm.
âi think i hurt it-â
panic overtook his face.
âshit- how?â
he reached down and his hand out.
the sweetest idiot alive.
you grabbed it and yanked.
he crashed in beside you with a loud splash. when he surfaced, hair plastered down, face full of betrayal, you were laughing hysterically.
he looked annoyed for exactly two seconds before pulling you into him, arms wrapping around your waist holding you close in the water.
laughing softly now too.
then he kissed you.
forehead resting against yours after, smiling wide.
then quietly, like truth heâd been carrying forever,
âi love you.â
your eyes opened.
you smiled.
âi love you too.â
his face softened so completely it almost broke you.
then he hugged you hard like he never wanted to let go.
later, dripping wet, climbing out of the pool steve paused. looked at you seriously, then âthat means youâre my girlfriend now, by the way.â
you smiled.
nodded.
âokay.â
he frowned jokingly.
ââŚokay?â
you blinked.
âwhat?â
he shoved wet hair back.
âi always thought you were perfectly happy being single.â
you smiled softly.
shrugged.
âmaybe i was just waiting for you.â
he rolled his eyes immediately, tugging you into his side as he walked you both inside.
his lips pressed briefly to your temple.
then quietly, certainly, âyou always had me.â
his arm tightened around you.
âalways.â
-
@prettyfortucker @harringtondarling @katsallthetime @thichnhathanhh @keepdrlving @beth-mirrorball @powerpuffedbjtch @itzeeeee @ddenniiee-729 @teheblue @frozenpeanutbutterr @coldalpsmcu @b0nzey @xceafh @hearts4steve @swirledyouintoallmypoems @saintlaurentdiva @joekeerylice @blurrygir1 @songkangslvr @keerymylove @foreverserving @cciessuzi @livingblythedoli @toopypoopy @ellieluvercentral @evies4ngels @lattewirl @wolfiee10 @maevebloom @drunkedniallh @girlwithkaleidoscopeeyes777 @mabsters @i-got-the-cinema @batmanssssss @bluehexagon8 @magnificentcitadelcrest @pleasecallmeunhinged @purplequeen64-stuff @inherdiary77 @whispersoflost @yikesdrama @chronicstevelover @horanlover7 @ann-aatn @xoxocelestial @isatchl
posting while ghosting .Ëâš. ࣪đť ࣪âšË.
⤡⪠steve harrington⏠x fem!reader âŞsmauâŹ
thanks to eddie you meet part of afterlight. you evade meeting a certain member because you have a crush on him & youâre scared of rejection. what you donât know is that the group is getting tired of this
important info and profiles
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
part 5
part 6
part 7
part 8 (soon)
⤡⪠posted originally here !! pls go show some love if you enjoy it

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
tiktok trends !!!! again !!!
joe keery x reader
infleuncer / youtuber reader au
|| desc - tiktok trends with ur chronically offline boyfriend husband
val speaks - i added all the tt trend reqs i got into this !! atleast i damn hope so bc i am SICK n TIRED of my inbox being weird i hate it đ anyways yes this has quite a few in here so keep a looksie if u requested one !! i love doing these so much
word count: 7.2k
can u leave the room whilst i change?
youâre halfway through explaining something about the jacket when you realise the cameraâs slightly tilted.
âwait- hold onâ you mumble, reaching forward to adjust it, fingers brushing the tripod. the frame steadies, catching the full view of your bedroom. soft lighting, a mess of shopping bags on the floor, and joe lounging on the edge of the bed like heâs been there for hours, which, to be fair, he has.
heâs got that absent, content look on his face, one leg bouncing lightly, phone in hand but not really using it. he glances up when you move back into frame, a small smile tugging at his mouth.
âyou good?â he asks.
âyeah, yeahâ you wave him off, already slipping back into your on-camera voice. âokay-so, next thing i got-â
you reach down, digging through one of the bags, pulling out a top youâd been excited about since you saw it in the store.
âi didnât even try this on, which is kind of risky,â you say, holding it up to yourself and angling it toward the camera. âbut it looked cute on the hanger, so weâll see.â
joe hums, nodding in that agreeable way he does, like heâs invested even if he doesnât fully get it.
âlooks niceâ he says, easy.
you grin. âthanks for the expert opinion.â
he shrugs, unbothered.
thereâs a beat where you just look at the top again, like youâre considering something, and then-
âactually- i kinda wanna try it on now.â
joe nods again, like yeah, obviously.
you glance toward him, tilting your head slightly. âcan you step out for a sec?â
that gets his attention.
he looks up properly this time, eyebrows pulling together. âhuh?â
âiâm gonna change,â you say, like itâs the most normal request in the world, gesturing vaguely toward the door. âso- can you just, like, step out?â
thereâs a pause.
joe just stares at you.
not confused exactly, more like heâs trying to figure out if youâre serious.
ââŚyou want me to leave?â he asks slowly.
you blink at him. âyeah?â
his eyebrows lift higher, a quiet kind of disbelief settling in. âweâre married, babe.â
you shrug, keeping your face as straight as possible. âyeahâŚâ
another pause.
he sits up a little straighter now, phone forgotten in his lap. âiâve seen every inch of you.â
itâs so matter-of-fact, so genuinely confused, that it almost breaks you right there.
you press your lips together, trying to hold it in, but thereâs already a crack forming.
âokay, but-â you start, voice wobbling slightly.
he squints at you.
and thatâs it, youâre done.
a smile breaks through, quick and uncontrollable, and you turn away from him, laughing under your breath.
joe exhales through his nose, shaking his head like heâs been expecting this. âyouâre being weirdâ he mutters, but thereâs a smile creeping in at the edges.
âno iâm not" you protest weakly, still laughing, covering your face for a second.
he leans back again, folding his arms now, watching you with narrowed eyes. âis this one of those things?â
you try to recover, clearing your throat and facing the camera again, but youâre still smiling too hard. âi donât know what youâre talking about.â
âyeah, you do,â he says, pointing at you lazily. âyou get that look.â
âwhat look?â
âthat lookâ he repeats, like it explains everything.
you shake your head, turning back to the camera, trying to push through. âanyway- iâm gonna try this on-â
âwith me hereâ joe adds.
you laugh again, giving up completely this time. âokay, fine- yeah, with him here.â
he snorts softly, relaxing back into the bed like heâs won something.
âyouâre so annoyingâ he says, but thereâs no bite to it.
âyou love meâ you shoot back.
âunfortunately.â
you gasp, mock offended, tossing a piece of clothing at him. it lands on his shoulder and slides off, and he doesnât even bother moving it.
âkeep that in,â he adds, nodding toward the camera. âpeople should know you still do this to me.â
âthey do know,â you say. âthatâs why theyâre here.â
he considers that, then nods. âfair.â
you end up not even trying the top on right away, too busy laughing and explaining what just happened, while joe just sits there, occasionally chiming in with quiet commentary that somehow makes it funnier.
comments:
user: his 'weâre married babeâ SENT ME
user: i love how he just accepts it at this point
user: âIâVE SEEN EVERY INCH OF YOUâ SIRRRR
guess height blindfolded
the cameraâs already rolling by the time joe walks in, dragging his hand through his hair like heâs just woken up even though heâs been up for hours.
âwhat are we doing?â he asks, eyeing the setup with mild suspicion, but thereâs a smile there already. he knows better than to think heâs safe at this point.
âthis oneâs normalâ you say quickly, which immediately makes him doubt it more.
âyeah, okay.â
you hold up the scarf youâre using as a blindfold. âitâs that thing where you have to guess each otherâs height, blindfolded.â
he tilts his head. âguess⌠height.â
âyeah, but like- without touching. you have to-â you pause, trying not to grin too early, â-line yourself up.â
he watches you for a second, then huffs a quiet laugh. âthis sounds fake.â
âitâs not fake,â you insist. âpeople do it.â
âpeople do a lot of weird stuff,â he mutters, but he steps closer anyway. âso iâm blindfolded first?â
âyep.â
he doesnât even argue, just dips his head slightly so you can tie it around his eyes. youâre a little more careful than necessary, fingers brushing his hair back as you knot it.
âcan you see?â you ask.
âno,â he says immediately. then, after a beat, âmaybe a little-â
âjoe.â
âiâm kiddingâ he laughs.
you step back, looking at him. arms loose at his sides, relaxed, already amused.
âokay,â you say, moving into position in front of him. âyou have to try and kiss me. no hands.â
âthatâs it?â he asks.
âthatâs it.â
thereâs a second where he just stands there, like heâs thinking about it. then a slow smile spreads across his face.
âthis is easy.â
you barely have time to react.
he leans forward, just slightly adjusting, like he already knows exactly where you are, and presses his lips to yours without hesitation, completely accurate on the first try.
it catches you off guard, the precision of it, and you make a small surprised noise against his mouth before you can stop yourself.
and of course, because itâs joe, he doesnât just leave it at that.
his hand twitches at his side like he almost forgets the rules, and the kiss deepens just a fraction, lingering a second longer than it should.
âokay-â you laugh, pulling back, one hand coming up to his chest to push him away lightly. âokay, no-â
he breaks into a grin immediately, reaching up to pull the blindfold off. âwhat? that was so easy.â
âyou didnât even hesitate.â
he shrugs, way too pleased with himself. âi know where my wife is.â
you roll your eyes, but youâre smiling. âwhatever.â
âmy turn to watch you struggleâ he says, handing you the blindfold.
âiâm not gonna struggleâ you argue, already tying it around your head.
âmmhm.â
you can hear the smile in his voice even without seeing it.
âokay,â you say, holding your hands out slightly before remembering the rule and dropping them again. âdonât move.â
âiâm not moving.â
you take a small step forward, trying to gauge the distance from memory. youâre close, you can feel it, but not exact.
you tilt your head up slightly, going off instinct, rising onto your tiptoes just a little-
and miss.
your lips brush somewhere closer to his chin, and you let out a quiet, embarrassed laugh. âwait-â
joe laughs too, soft and warm, and before you can try again, he gives in and lowers his head just enough to meet you properly.
this time the kiss lands right.
itâs softer than his, less confident, more carefu, âbut it lingers for a second, and you can feel him smiling against your lips.
âyou movedâ you mumble, pulling back.
âi helpedâ he corrects.
you tug the blindfold off, blinking at him. âthat doesnât count.â
âit absolutely counts.â
âno, it doesnât.â
he just grins, completely unbothered. âyou were gonna headbutt my chin if i didnât.â
âi was not.â
âyou were close.â
you shove his shoulder lightly, and he laughs, catching your wrist for a second before letting go.
âso technically,â he adds, âi win.â
âyou always say that.â
âbecause itâs always true.â
you groan, turning back toward the camera. âhe thinks he won.â
âi did winâ he says from behind you.
âhe cheated.â
âi followed the rules perfectly.â
you glance back at him. âyou literally tried to make out with me.â
âthatâs not against the rules,â he says, way too quick.
you just stare at him for a second before laughing again, shaking your head.
comments:
user: 'i know where my wife isâ kill me
user: the way you got his chin im crying
user: this man is so smug for WHAT
user: âthat was so easyâ relax???
anthropology rock
you donât tell him what this one is.
thatâs kind of the point.
the cameraâs already set up on the counter, angled just right to catch the kitchen and part of the living room. thereâs a small box sitting in front of you, nothing fancy, which almost makes it funnier, and youâre trying very hard not to smile too soon.
you can hear joe moving around behind you before he actually comes into frame, footsteps soft, unhurried.
âwhatâs that?â he asks.
âwait,â you say quickly, holding a hand up. âi wanted to show you on camera.â
that immediately makes him suspicious.
ââŚwhy?â
âjust- come here.â
he walks over anyway, easy, curious, and slips in behind you without thinking, arms wrapping loosely around your waist as he leans his chin near your shoulder to get a better look at the box.
âokay,â he murmurs, âwhat did you buy now?â
you place your hands on the box like itâs something fragile. âso- i found this place online,â you start, already putting on that tone you use when youâre about to sell something ridiculous, âand they do, like, really curated home pieces.â
âcuratedâ he repeats under his breath.
you ignore that.
âand i saw this and i literally had to get it. like, itâs so unique.â
he hums, still behind you, not fully convinced but willing to go along with it.
âokay,â you say, dragging it out slightly. âready?â
âi guess.â
you open the box.
inside is, very obviously, just a rock.
not even a particularly interesting one. just⌠a rock.
thereâs a beat.
joe doesnât move at first. his arms stay around you, but you can feel the way his posture shifts, like his brain is trying to catch up with what heâs seeing.
then he leans slightly to the side, stepping out from behind you so he can look at it properly.
his eyebrows pull together, his mouth parting just a little.
ââŚisnât that just a rock?â he asks quietly.
you turn to him immediately. âno.â
he looks back at the box. then at you. then back at the box again.
âthatâs-â he gestures vaguely toward it, âthatâs a rock.â
âitâs not just a rock,â you say, already fighting a smile. âitâs, like- a decorative piece.â
he stares at you.
âa decorative⌠rock.â
âyeah.â
âfrom where.â
you name some made-up boutique with way too many syllables, and he just blinks.
âand you bought this,â he says slowly, âon purpose.â
âyes.â
thereâs another pause where he tries very hard to be respectful about it.
it does not work.
âi could go outside,â he starts, completely serious now, âand get you five of those. for free.â
you shake your head immediately. âno, you couldnât, because this one is, like, itâs selected.â
âselectedâ he repeats again, a little louder this time.
âyeah.â
âby who?â
you hesitate for half a second. âdesigners.â
he lets out a quiet breath through his nose, looking down at the rock like it personally offended him.
âhow much was it?â he asks.
you say a number thatâs just believable enough to be ridiculous.
his head snaps up. âyouâre joking.â
âitâs worth itâ you insist.
âfor a rock.â
âitâs not just a rock!â
he reaches into the box before you can stop him, picking it up carefully, like maybe, just maybe, heâs missing something.
he turns it over in his hands, inspecting it from every angle, squinting slightly like thereâs supposed to be a hidden detail.
âi mean-â he starts, frowning, âitâs⌠smooth.â
you lose it.
a laugh slips out before you can stop it, quick and sharp, and you turn away slightly, trying to cover it.
joe pauses.
slowly, he looks up from the rock.
his eyes narrow.
ââŚnoâ he says.
youâre already laughing harder now, shoulders shaking, and you donât even try to hide it. he lowers the rock back into the box very carefully. way too carefully.
âyouâre kidding.â
you canât even answer, just nodding, laughing into your hands.
he squints at you, head tilting slightly. âyou made me analyze a rock.â
that only makes it worse.
âyou were really looking at itâ you manage between laughs.
âcause you said it was curatedâ he shoots back, but thereâs already a smile breaking through.
you step toward him without thinking, wrapping your arms around him in a quick hug, still laughing against his shoulder.
he lets out a small huff, like heâs trying to stay annoyed but his arms come around you anyway, automatic, pulling you in.
âyouâre ridiculousâ he mutters.
âi knowâ you mumble back.
thereâs a second where he holds onto the act, staying still, like heâs not going to give in and then he does.
you feel it in the way his shoulders relax, the way his hand shifts slightly against your back.
when you pull away, heâs smiling, softer now.
âyouâre cuteâ you tell him.
he immediately looks away.
âdonâtâ he says, quick, like he wants to shut it down before it lands.
but thereâs a faint flush creeping up his neck anyway.
âyou areâ you repeat.
he shakes his head, glancing off to the side like thereâs suddenly something very interesting over there. âstop.â
you grin, reaching for the box again. âshould i return the rock?â
âyesâ he says instantly.
âno,â you say, hugging it to your chest. âitâs curated.â
he groans under his breath, dragging a hand down his face.
âiâm going outside,â he mutters. âiâll get you ten.â
you laugh again, and he canât help it, he does too.
comments:
user: he was so gentle about it im crying
user: the way he REALLY tried to understand
user: joe taking this so seriously is killing me
user: the hug at the end im soft
kiss in the middle of an argument
the cameraâs hidden on the shelf by the doorway, angled just enough to catch the kitchen without being obvious. you set it up a few minutes ago, half out of curiosity, half because you already knew how this would go.
joeâs at the sink, drying his hands off with a dish towel, clearly mid-thought and a little annoyed.
âiâm just saying,â he continues, turning toward you, âit takes, like, two seconds to rinse a plate before you put it in. otherwise it just- sits there.â
you lean back against the counter, arms loosely crossed, trying to look like youâre listening properly.
âi do rinse themâ you say.
he gives you a look. ânot really.â
âsometimes.â
âexactly,â he says, pointing at you slightly. âsometimes.â
itâs not a real argument, thereâs no heat to it, but heâs in that mildly frustrated, rambling mode where heâs trying to make a point and youâre only half taking it seriously.
âand then i end up doing it later,â he goes on, pacing a step before stopping again. âwhich is fine, but itâs like- why not just do it the first time?â
you nod slowly, lips pressed together to hide the smile thatâs threatening.
âi hear youâ you say.
he keeps going anyway.
âiâm not asking for-â
you step forward and kiss him.
just a quick, simple peck. nothing dramatic.
but it cuts him off instantly.
he freezes.
ââŚwhat-â he blinks, looking at you like his brain just short-circuited. âwhat was that?â
you shrug, completely casual. âcarry on.â
thereâs a pause.
he just stares at you.
you tilt your head slightly. âgo on, you were saying something about the plates.â
he opens his mouth then closes it again.
ââŚi canât nowâ he says.
you try to keep a straight face. âwhy?â
he shakes his head a little, like heâs trying to reset. âbecause- you just-â
he doesnât finish the sentence, just exhales quietly through his nose, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite himself.
âcarry on, honeyâ you say, softer this time.
that does it.
he looks at you for another second, something shifting in his expression, and then he reaches out, hand settling at your waist as he pulls you closer.
ânoâ he murmurs.
and then he kisses you.
itâs slower this time, more deliberate, like heâs making a point of it. his other hand comes up briefly, brushing your arm before settling again, keeping you close.
when he pulls back, itâs only slightly, his forehead almost touching yours.
âjust- donât do that againâ he says quietly.
you raise an eyebrow. âdonât do what?â
âthat,â he says, glancing at your lips for half a second before meeting your eyes again. âand donât use it to get out of things.â
you smile, just a little. âget out of what?â
he huffs a soft laugh, shaking his head. âyou know itâll always work.â
you donât even try to deny it.
thereâs a beat. quiet, close, the argument completely gone now, and then he leans in again, kissing you once more, like he canât quite help himself.
when he pulls back this time, he lingers, still holding onto you, expression softer than before.
âweâre still talking about the dishes laterâ he adds.
âsureâ you say.
neither of you move.
comments:
user: THE WAY HE FORGOT HIS POINT IMMEDIATELY
user: this is the healthiest argument iâve ever seen
user: they didnât finish that conversation and you know it
he pretends to be you
âso- youâre gonna pretend to be meâ you explain, already holding the camera up, trying not to laugh before it even starts.
joeâs leaning against the couch, arms crossed, giving you a look thatâs somewhere between amused and suspicious.
you grin. âcome on, itâll be funny.â
he studies you for a second longer, then sighs like heâs being put upon, except thereâs a smile tugging at his mouth already.
âfine,â he says. âbut you canât get mad.â
âi wonât get mad.â
âyou will.â
âi wonât.â
he points at you. âyou will.â
you laugh. âjust start.â
-
the camera angle shifts.
joeâs sitting at your vanity, slightly hunched forward in a way thatâs already exaggerated. heâs holding one of your makeup brushes like he has no idea what it does, but heâs committed.
he leans in toward the mirror, squinting.
âbabe,â he says, in a tone thatâs just a little too accurate, âis this too much blush?â
you snort from behind the camera. âno, you have to pretend to be me, not ask me-â
âi am pretending to be you,â he insists, not breaking character, tapping the brush against his cheek like heâs applying something. âiâm asking you so you can say no.â
âokay- fine. no, itâs not too much.â
he pauses, then slowly turns his head toward the camera, deadpan.
ââŚso it is.â
you burst out laughing.
he sets the brush down like heâs proven a point. âevery time.â
âthat is not true.â
âit is,â he says, nodding seriously. âyou ask, i answer, and then you do whatever you were gonna do anyway.â
âthatâs called trusting my instinctsâ you argue.
âthatâs called ignoring meâ he counters.
youâre still laughing as the clip cuts.
-
heâs standing in the kitchen now, arms folded, posture completely different, more upright, a little sharper.
youâre off-camera, watching.
âi donât see why you let it pile up,â he says, gesturing vaguely toward the (currently empty) laundry basket like itâs evidence. âuntil i do it. itâs rude.â
you choke on a laugh immediately.
he keeps going.
âitâs not that hard, honeyâ he adds, tone just slightly pointed.
âoh my god,â you say, half laughing, half offended. âi do not sound like that.â
he glances toward the camera, unfazed. âyou do.â
âi do not say âitâs rudeâ like that-â
âyou do when youâre trying to make a pointâ he interrupts, nodding.
you cover your face, laughing harder.
he softens a little at that, the act slipping just enough for a smile to show.
âiâm just saying,â he adds, quieter now, âitâs accurate.â
-
youâve got his bag over your shoulder, shoes half on, playing along.
âokay, iâm gonna goâ you say, reaching for the handle like youâre heading out.
before you can open it, joe steps in front of you.
he doesnât say anything at first, just reaches for you, one hand catching your arm lightly as he leans in and kisses you.
once. twice. again.
quick, soft kisses, one after the other, like heâs stalling.
you immediately start laughing. âyouâre so-â
he ignores you, still in character, pulling you a little closer and pressing another kiss to your cheek, then your lips again.
âstayâ he murmurs, voice softer now.
you try to stay in the bit, clearing your throat and straightening slightly, pretending to be him.
ââŚi mean- i could leave later,â you say, like youâre thinking it over. âi have some time.â
joeâs entire expression changes, a real smile spreading across his face.
âyeah?â he says.
you nod, trying not to laugh again.
his hand finds yours and he gently tugs you back inside, kicking the door shut with his foot before guiding you toward the couch.
âsee?â he says, like heâs just proven something.
âyouâre too easy to make stayâ you tease.
âdonât careâ he replies.
-
the two of you are on the couch now.
youâre sitting fully on top of him, legs on either side of his lap, like you always do without thinking. his hands rest loosely at your waist, steady, familiar.
joe clears his throat slightly, slipping back into the bit.
âokay, so basically,â he starts, gesturing with one hand while the other stays on you, âwhatâs happening is-â
he launches into a long, overly detailed explanation of a show you made him watch.
â-and thatâs why that scene matters, because earlier, like, episode two, you see the same thing, but from a different perspective, so itâs actually-â
he pauses, looking down at you.
youâre watching him, trying not to laugh, already knowing exactly what heâs doing.
â-important,â he finishes, a little less confidently.
âdo you even know what youâre saying right now?â you ask.
ânoâ he admits immediately.
you laugh, leaning forward slightly, your forehead brushing his.
âyou do that,â he adds, quieter now. âyou explain things like i already understand, but i donât.â
âyou just donât pay attentionâ you argue.
âi try,â he says. âthereâs just a lot of details.â
you smile, softer now, and he forgets the bit again for a second, just looking at you.
then he snaps back into it.
âanyway,â he says, gesturing again, âthatâs why you should care.â
you laugh, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his cheek.
âgood explanationâ you tell him.
âthank youâ he nods, like heâs proud of it.
-
you swing the camera back toward both of you, still on the couch.
joeâs arm is draped around you now, hand absentmindedly resting against your side.
âso?â you ask. âhowâd you do?â
he considers it. âi think i nailed it.â
âyou were a little mean.â
âi was honestâ he corrects.
you roll your eyes. âyou made me sound bossy.â
he glances at you. âyou are a little bossy.â
you stare at him.
he smiles, quick and easy. âitâs cute.â
you try not to react to that, but it definitely lands.
thereâs a small pause, comfortable.
then-
âdo meâ he adds suddenly.
you blink. âwhat?â
âmy turn,â he clarifies. âyou pretend to be me.â
you grin slowly.
âoh, iâm gonna be so annoying.â
he groans, already regretting it.
âno-â
the clip cuts off there.
comments:
user: he has u DOWNNNN
user: the overexplaining one is so real me too.
why arent u holding my hand?
the camera angleâs a little lower than usual. youâre trailing a step behind joe as he walks down the aisle, and he is, objectively, carrying way too much.
thereâs a tote bag hanging off one shoulder, a couple of things tucked under his arm, and two more in his hands. he looks like he underestimated how much you were going to pick up and is now too stubborn to admit he needs a basket.
you watch him for a second, already smiling to yourself.
then-
âi donât get why youâre not holding my hand.â
he stops.
slowly, he turns his head to look back at you.
itâs not even annoyance, itâs just confusion, like he genuinely needs a second to process what you just said.
his eyes flick over your face, then he glances down at his hands.
both of them.
very full.
he looks back at you.
you just stare at him, completely serious.
thereâs a beat.
he exhales quietly through his nose, the corner of his mouth twitching like heâs trying not to laugh.
then he shifts slightly, adjusting what heâs holding just enough to free up one tiny movement and sticks his pinky finger out.
waiting.
you immediately break, laughing as you step closer and hook your pinky around his.
âthank youâ you say, way too pleased about it.
he shakes his head, starting to walk again, your hand awkwardly linked to his through that one finger.
âyouâre ridiculousâ he mutters.
âwhat?â you say, still smiling. âiâm not allowed to want to hold your hand?â
he glances down at you, expression softening without him even trying to hide it.
âno,â he says, voice quieter now. âyouâre always allowed to want that.â
it lands a little heavier than either of you expected.
you squeeze his pinky slightly, still hooked around his, and he gives the smallest smile in response, eyes flicking forward again as you keep walking.
after a second, he adjusts his grip on everything heâs carrying, like heâs trying to make it easier not to drop anything, but he doesnât pull away.
âyou could help, you knowâ he adds.
âno,â you say instantly. âiâm busy.â
âbusy doing what?â
you lift your hand slightly, wiggling your pinky where itâs linked with his.
âthis.â
he huffs out a laugh under his breath. âright. important job.â
âvery.â
he shakes his head again, but heâs smiling properly now.
comments:
user: âyouâre always allowed to want thatâ STOP
user: this is the cutest one yet iâm not okay
user: the sigh before the pinky SENT ME
get the biscuit
the cameraâs set low, propped up against something on the floor so it catches the whole living room.
right in the middle of the frame, one single biscuit.
you and joe are sitting a few feet back from it, side by side, already smiling like this is a bad idea.
âokay,â you say, trying to sound official. âfirst round- no arms.â
joe looks at you. then at the biscuit. then back at you.
âno armsâ he repeats.
âno arms.â
âthis is humiliating.â
âyou agreed to it.â
he exhales, but heâs smiling. âalright.â
you both shuffle forward slightly, getting into position, hands tucked awkwardly behind your backs like thatâs going to help.
âready?â you ask.
ânoâ he says.
âthree, two, one, go.â
you both immediately lunge forward-
and fail.
completely.
without your hands, thereâs nothing to catch you, so you both just drop, straight down, faces way too close to the floor.
thereâs a second of silence then joe starts laughing.
like, properly laughing.
you push yourself forward awkwardly, using your shoulders and whatever momentum you can manage, but itâs messy and uncoordinated and youâre barely moving.
âthis is so stupidâ you say, laughing into the floor.
âyou canât even-â joe tries to say, but heâs laughing too hard to finish.
he somehow manages to inch closer to the biscuit, wriggling forward in a way that shouldnât work but does.
âno-â you gasp, seeing him get closer. âno, no, no-â
you throw yourself forward and basically land on top of him.
he lets out a loud laugh as you half-collapse across his back, both of you tangled and completely off track now.
âyou cheated!â he says through laughter.
âi didnât- move!â
you awkwardly slide off him, still laughing, and keep pushing forward, face practically against the floor until you get it.
you grab the biscuit with your mouth, lifting your head triumphantly.
âi win!â you say, words slightly muffled.
joe is still on the floor, not even trying anymore, just laughing into the carpet.
âyouâre-â he shakes his head, breathless. âyouâre insane.â
-
âno legsâ you say, sitting up and brushing your hair back.
joe wipes at his face, still smiling. âthis is worse.â
you both lie flat on your fronts, arms ready this time, legs lifted slightly off the ground.
âready?â you ask.
ânoâ he says again.
âgo.â
you both start dragging yourselves forward, using your arms to pull, legs kicking uselessly behind you.
itâs somehow even less graceful.
you make a noise halfway between a laugh and a groan as you try to move faster, but joeâs already ahead this time, pulling himself forward with more coordination than before.
âhow are you faster like this?â you complain.
âi donât knowâ he laughs.
you try to catch up, reaching forward, but heâs just a little bit quicker.
he gets there first, grabbing the biscuit.
ânoooâ you groan dramatically, letting your face drop straight onto the floor in defeat.
joe doesnât even celebrate.
heâs laughing again, holding the biscuit but not eating it, shoulders shaking.
âi canât-â he tries, but gives up, just sitting there laughing with it still in his hand.
you lift your head slightly, looking at him. âare you gonna eat it or..â
he shakes his head, still laughing. âgive me a second.â
-
you both sit up again, facing each other now with the biscuit reset in the middle.
âokay,â you say, already smiling. âlast one- no arms, no legs.â
joe just stares at you.
ââŚwhat.â
âyou have to roll.â
he lets out a disbelieving laugh. âthis is not real.â
âit is. come on.â
he shakes his head, but lies down anyway, rolling onto his side.
you do the same.
âready?â you ask.
âabsolutely not.â
âgo.â
you both start rolling at the same time and immediately crash into each other.
thereâs no coordination at all. every time one of you gets slightly closer to the biscuit, the other bumps into you, knocking you off course.
âmove!â you laugh, trying to roll past him.
âyou move!â he shoots back, equally uncoordinated.
you end up half on top of each other again, legs tangled, both trying to roll in opposite directions and going nowhere.
âthis isnât workingâ joe says, laughing.
âit is workingâ you argue, attempting another roll, straight into him again.
âyouâre just- blocking me!â
âyouâre blocking me!â
you both try again, rolling over each other this time, completely abandoning any sense of strategy.
at one point you almost reach the biscuit and then joe rolls into you again, knocking you sideways.
âoh my god-â you laugh, breathless.
neither of you are even close anymore.
youâre just tangled together on the floor, laughing too hard to keep trying, rolling back and forth with no real direction.
the biscuit sits untouched a few feet away.
the clip cuts off with both of you still laughing, completely failing to reach it.
comments:
user: joe gave up immediately and just laughed đ
user: the face plant when you lost IM CRYING
user: not a single brain cell between them
pretend to fall asleep around him
the cameraâs tucked somewhere low on the shelf across from the couch, angled just enough to catch the two of you without being obvious.
the tv is on, some show joeâs been trying to get you into for weeks. youâre curled up next to him, legs tucked under a blanket, your head resting lightly against his shoulder.
heâs mid-explanation, as usual.
â-so that guy,â he says, gesturing vaguely toward the screen with the remote, âhe looks like heâs helping, but heâs not. like, you find out later that-â
you let your eyes drift shut.
not all at once, just slowly, like youâre actually getting sleepy, your breathing evening out as you sink a little more into him.
â-heâs been lying the whole time,â joe continues, still focused on the show. âand it kind of messes with-â
he pauses, just for a second.
you can feel it, the way his attention shifts from the screen to you.
thereâs a quiet beat.
ââŚheyâ he says softly, not really trying to wake you, more like checking.
you donât move.
he watches you for another moment, and something in his posture changes. shoulders easing, expression softening.
âokayâ he murmurs, almost to himself.
his voice drops after that, instinctively quieter even though youâre not responding anymore. he turns his head back to the tv, still watching, but he doesnât keep explaining.
instead, he reaches for the remote.
the volume clicks down until itâs muted, but he leaves the screen on, eyes flicking back to it.
you feel him shift slightly beside you, careful, like he doesnât want to disturb you. his arm adjusts just enough so youâre more comfortably tucked against him.
thereâs a pause.
then a soft press against your forehead. a quick kiss, gentle, absentminded, like he didnât even think about it. you almost react, but you hold it in.
he settles back again, leaning into the couch, his head tilting slightly so it rests against yours. one hand stays loosely near you, thumb brushing lightly against your arm without really thinking.
he keeps watching the show like that. quiet, still, occasionally glancing down at you with that same small smile before looking back at the screen.
everything about him is softer now. slower. like the whole room adjusted around the idea that you fell asleep. and he doesnât try to move you or wake you or do anything about it.
he just lets you stay there.
-
comments:
user: MUTING THE TV IM SOBBINGâ
user: this is so gentle i canâtâ
user: joe is actually unreal
stopping walking to see when he notices
itâs busier than usual, one of those afternoons where the streets are full but not overwhelming, just enough noise to blend into the background.
youâre walking with your friends, the group naturally split the way it always is- the guys a few steps ahead, talking about something youâre only half listening to, and you and the girls trailing behind.
someone brings it up.
âwe should stop,â one of your friends says, lowering her voice slightly. âall at the same time.â
you already know what she means.
you grin. âyes.â
thereâs a quick round of agreement, quiet laughter, glances exchanged like youâre about to pull off something way more serious than it is.
âokay,â another says. âon three.â
the guys keep walking ahead, completely unaware.
âone⌠two⌠three.â
you all just stop.
itâs weirdly quiet for a second, just the sound of footsteps moving away from you.
you watch as they keep going, still mid-conversation, not even slightly aware yet.
one of your friends snorts under her breath.
âno way they donât noticeâ she whispers.
you donât say anything, eyes already on joe.
he makes it maybe six seconds. seven, at most.
you see it happen.
itâs subtle at first, his head tilts slightly, like something feels off before he even fully registers it. then he glances to the side, expecting you to be there, youâre not.
he stops immediately.
the other guys take another few steps before realising heâs not with them, but even then, they donât turn around right away.
joe does.
his eyes find you instantly.
youâre already smiling, trying not to laugh, standing there with the girls like youâve done nothing wrong.
he gives you all a look, confused, a little suspicious, like he knows somethingâs up but hasnât figured it out yet.
then he exhales, half amused, half like of course, and jogs back toward you.
behind him, the other guys are just now starting to slow down, glancing around.
your friends immediately look past joe, silently judging.
âthey didnât even noticeâ one of them mutters.
youâre laughing now, unable to hold it in as joe reaches you.
âwhat are you doing?â he asks, stopping in front of you, slightly out of breath but smiling.
you shake your head, still laughing. ânothing.â
he narrows his eyes a little, glancing at the others, then back at you. âyou all just⌠stopped.â
âyeah.â
ââŚwhy?â
you donât answer, just step closer and kiss him quickly, like that explains everything. it throws him off for a second, just enough that his expression softens completely.
âokay,â he says, quieter now, like heâs accepting it even if he doesnât get it.
behind him, one of the other guys finally calls out, âare we stopping or what?â
your friends all turn, giving them pointed looks.
âyou didnât even notice!â one of them says.
thereâs a chorus of confused reactions from down the street.
joe glances back at them, then at you again, still half smiling. âwas that the point?â
you nod.
he huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. âyouâre weird.â
âyou love it.â
âyeahâ he says easily.
his hand finds yours without thinking this time, like heâs making sure youâre actually there again before he starts walking back.
you squeeze his hand once, still smiling, and fall into step beside him.
this time, he doesnât drift ahead.
-
comments:
user: joe turned around so fast omg
user: he literally cannot function without u next to him
user: the little jog back IM DONE
user: the other boyfriends failed this test im sorry
joe trying to get u back (again) (fail)
this one isnât even meant to be a trend at first.
it just starts as a normal video. camera set up in the kitchen, ingredients everywhere, both of you slightly too confident for people who donât bake that often.
âi feel like this is gonna go wellâ you say, already laughing as you try to measure something without spilling it.
joeâs beside you, reading off the recipe like itâs optional. âit says a teaspoon.â
âthat looks like a teaspoon.â
âthat is not a teaspoon.â
âitâs close enough.â
he shakes his head, smiling. âthis is why things go wrong.â
âthings go wrong because you doubt meâ you shoot back.
âyeah, thatâs definitely it.â
the whole thing is like that. messy, loud, flour somehow ending up places it shouldnât, both of you laughing more than actually following instructions.
at one point he flicks a bit of batter at you, and you immediately retaliate, and it turns into a five-second chaos moment before you both remember thereâs a cake involved.
eventually, somehow, it actually comes together.
the cakeâs baked, cooled, and now youâre both leaning over it, decorating.
itâs⌠a lot.
way too much frosting, random decorations that donât really match, little sticks and toppers pushed into it at odd angles.
âit looks greatâ you say, fully lying.
joe nods. âit looks incredible.â
âlike something from a bakery.â
âyeah,â he agrees, completely serious. âa bad one.â
you laugh, nudging him slightly.
the camera catches both of you standing behind it, admiring your work like you didnât just freestyle the whole thing.
âokay,â you say, âready to try it?â
âyeah.â
thereâs a second, and then, out of nowhere joe gently but very deliberately pushes your head forward.
straight into the cake.
itâs quick, playful, the kind of thing that would be funny- except the second your face hits it, somethingâs off.
you come back up immediately with a sharp inhale, hand flying to your face.
âoh-â you groan, blinking hard. âjoe-â
heâs already laughing at first, a quick, surprised laugh, until he sees your expression.
âwait- what?â
you wipe frosting from your forehead, wincing slightly. âthereâs sticks in the cake, you bitch-â
his face drops instantly.
âwhat?â
you blink again, eyes watering from the impact, not crying but reacting, and when you pull your hand away thereâs a tiny bit of blood mixed with frosting.
thatâs it.
joe goes completely still.
âoh my god-â he steps closer immediately, hands hovering like he doesnât know where to touch without making it worse. âare you okay?- i didnât- i forgot-â
you let out a small, breathy laugh despite it, still wincing a little. âif you were trying to blind me, you couldâve just said that-â
âdonât-â he cuts in, shaking his head, already panicking a little. âdonât joke- hold on-â
he grabs a clean cloth, hands moving quickly but carefully as he steps back in front of you.
âlook at meâ he says softly.
you do, still smiling faintly even though your eyes are watery.
he gently wipes at your forehead, his touch light, focused, like heâs afraid of hurting you more.
âiâm so sorry,â he says, voice quieter now. âi completely forgot those were there- i couldâve hit your eye, i couldâve-â
âjoe,â you interrupt, reaching up to catch his wrist lightly. âitâs fine, i swear.â
he shakes his head immediately. âitâs not fine, youâre hurt.â
âiâm not that hurt,â you insist. âitâs like- barely anything.â
he doesnât look convinced at all.
his eyes keep scanning your face, checking over every little spot like heâs expecting to find something worse.
âiâm serious,â he says, still gently cleaning off the last of the frosting. âiâm so sorry.â
you watch him for a second, the way his brows are drawn together, how focused he is, how bad he clearly feels.
then you tilt your head slightly, softening.
ââŚit just means you have to be super nice to me for the rest of the day,â you say.
he pauses. looks at you. then exhales, something easing just a little.
âi was already gonna do thatâ he mutters.
you smile.
he drops the cloth somewhere on the counter and immediately pulls you into him, arms wrapping around you tight but careful.
âiâm sorry,â he murmurs again, pressing a kiss to your hairline, then another, and another, like he canât quite stop.
âi knowâ you say, muffled against his chest.
he keeps going anyway, kissing the top of your head, your temple, wherever he can reach without bothering the spot he just cleaned.
âiâm so sorryâ he repeats.
you start laughing softly, arms wrapping around him in return.
âokay,â you say. âyouâre making it worse now.â
you pull back just enough to look at him, still smiling. âyou owe me, though.â
he nods immediately. âyeah. anything.â
âanything?â
âanything.â
you grin a little wider. ânoted.â
he squints at you slightly, like he knows thatâs going to come back to haunt him, but he doesnât take it back.
instead, he just leans down and presses another soft kiss to your head, lingering this time.
âstill sorryâ he adds quietly.
you laugh again, leaning back into him.
comments:
user: âthereâs sticks in the cake you bitchâ IM SORRY I LAUGHED
user: he felt so bad :((
user: the head kisses im sobbing
-----------
@prettyfortucker @harringtondarling @katsallthetime @thichnhathanhh @keepdrlving @beth-mirrorball @powerpuffedbjtch @itzeeeee @teheblue @frozenpeanutbutterr @coldalpsmcu @b0nzey @xceafh @hearts4steve @swirledyouintoallmypoems @saintlaurentdiva @joekeerylice @blurrygir1 @songkangslvr @keerymylove @foreverserving @cciessuzi @livingblythedoli @toopypoopy @ellieluvercentral @evies4ngels @lattewirl @wolfiee10 @maevebloom @drunkedniallh @girlwithkaleidoscopeeyes777 @mabsters @i-got-the-cinema @batmanssssss @bluehexagon8 @magnificentcitadelcrest @pleasecallmeunhinged @purplequeen64-stuff @inherdiary77 @1011008 @spideyzzn @lovrsinthedark @cassiopeiia24 @swagmoneysad @whispersoflost @yikesdrama @chronicstevelover @horanlover7 @ann-aatn @xoxocelestial
*:ď˝Ľďž both sides
welcome to my 2000 follower special both sides !! please enjoy reader x steve falling in love paired with reader x joe falling in love whilst playing themâşď¸
-pls read my 'val speaks' part at the begininng of each fic as there is a couple of disclaimers/ explanations in them :)
red - steve harrington || purple - joe keery
the story starts in 1987 ! you get dragged into the mess of the upside down when you - the daughter of the guy who owns the wsqk building - overhear a conversation between robin and steve when picking some boxes up for your dad. youâre nosy, of course youâre gonna get involved when nobody wants you too. and be a little pain in the ass. and fall for steve. oops.
you really mean that, snoopy?
the story starts in 2024 ! youâve recently been cast in the new season of stranger things playing steve harringtons new love interest. what could go wrong? not like youâre gonna fall for the guy who plays him or anything. of course not. that would be way too predictable. youâre just there for the experience and the friendships annddd yea, maybe joe too. oops.
i mean it, i promise.
read this before reading the storys !!!
right now there is 2 'episodes' out for the steve one and then the joe one matches up to them if that makes sense. im gonna keep doing it like that i think (like multiple parts in one chapter yk to speed up getting it all out) !! + updates will be done as regularly as possible !!! tbh i wanted to put it out when it was all done but i couldnât wait heee ha
2000 followers is crazy n im yet again gonna say i love u all thanks sm for reading what i write! hope u like ur prezzie đ xoxo - valđ
_____________________________________
taglist: @prettyfortucker @harringtondarling @katsallthetime @thichnhathanhh @keepdrlving @beth-mirrorball @powerpuffedbjtch @itzeeeee @ddenniiee-729 @teheblue @frozenpeanutbutterr @coldalpsmcu @b0nzey @xceafh @hearts4steve @swirledyouintoallmypoems @saintlaurentdiva @joekeerylice @blurrygir1 @songkangslvr @keerymylove @foreverserving @cciessuzi @livingblythedoli @toopypoopy @ellieluvercentral @evies4ngels @lattewirl @wolfiee10 @maevebloom @drunkedniallh @girlwithkaleidoscopeeyes777 @mabsters @i-got-the-cinema @batmanssssss @bluehexagon8 @magnificentcitadelcrest @pleasecallmeunhinged @purplequeen64-stuff @inherdiary77 @1011008 @whispersoflost @yikesdrama @chronicstevelover
Useless things like school and work keep getting in the way of my reading and writing fanfics and my tumblr time
COME HOME (S.H.)
a stranger things rewrite
"come home to me, okay?" "always," steve promises. in between saving will, then hawkins, then somehow the world, you fall in love with steve harrington.
PAIRINGS: steve harrington x henderson!reader, slight jonathan byers x reader
CONTAINS: fem!reader, slow burn, slight enemies to lovers (reader more just pities steve), cursing, miscommunication, unrequited love, angst, protective older sister chaos, violence in the later seasons.
blurbs â§âË. director's cut .Ëââ§ playlist â§âË. jonathans mixtape for bug
SEASON ONE
SEASON TWO
SEASON THREE
SEASON FOUR
SEASON FIVE
STATUS: ongoing
MAIN MASTERLIST
if youâd like to buy me a coffee âď¸
posting while ghosting .Ëâš. ࣪đť ࣪âšË.
⤡⪠steve harrington⏠x fem!reader âŞsmauâŹ
thanks to eddie you meet part of afterlight. you evade meeting a certain member because you have a crush on him & youâre scared of rejection. what you donât know is that the group is getting tired of this
important info and profiles
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
part 5 (soon)
⤡⪠posted originally here !! pls go show some love if you enjoy it

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Why Do You Like Me?
A/N: yuh thatâs how heâs looking at you twin ^
Iâll prob write a part two because Iâm a sucker for happy endings lol, and I love Stevie.
Warnings: angst, angst, angst. Hopelesslyinlove!steve, fem!reader, NO use of y/n. Platonic!stobin
You didnât know exactly when this⌠situation between you and Steve had started. What you did know, though, was that it couldnât happen. Wouldnât happen. Youâd told him that, too.
Of course, he didnât listen.
He never did.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You are sitting with Robin and Nancy, head thrown back as the three of you erupt into another round of laughter.
The three of you are oblivious to the world around you. Dustin, Mike, Will, Lucas, El, and Max off to your left, whispering and giggling amongst themselves.
And Steve.
Sitting somewhat in between the two circles.
Dustin tries to get his attention, and succeedsâ momentarily. Everyone knows itâs impossible to tear Steveâs attention from you for long.
He watches as you let yourself be. Not reserved, not guarded or cautious, not pretending. Just you. Laughing with your best friends like nothing else mattered.
They rarely get to see you like this, and he understandsâ he doesâ because they all know what youâve been through. What youâve had to overcome; forced to grow up too soon and carry baggage no single person should have to bear.
For a moment, he thinks he caught your eye, but itâs Robin who does. She gives him a small, soft smile. He doesnât return it. Itâs the one she gives him anytime heâs around you. Pity.
He clears his throat, excusing himself from a conversation he wasnât a part of. He heads inside, straight to the kitchen, and places his palms on the counter, staring down at it.
He hears the door open and shut, squeezing his eyes closed. He doesnât have to turn around to know itâs Robin.
âDingus,â she says, voice soft but it carries that âyou need to knock it off right nowâ tone. He sucks in a breath, turning to her. âI know.â Is all he says, running a hand through his hair before he brings it and crosses his arms over his chest.
âSteve, you canât keep doing this to yourself.â Robin says, concern evident in her voice.
âIâm not doing anything, Rob.â He says, his voice unsteady, betraying him. And she meets his eyes. She knows. She understands that not being able to do anything is what hurts the most.
âYouâve got to talk to her, Steve.â Robin says, and she takes a step towards him. Cautiously, like heâs an animal she doesnât want to spook.
He sighs again, squeezing his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, the door bursts open, and itâs the kids, followed by Nancy, who is corralling them towards the door, trying to fight their groans and complaints by reminding them of school in the morning.
Steveâs eyes flicker, searching. Searching for you. His eyebrows furrow when he doesnât find you. Robin looks to Nancy, who nods. âGoâ, Robin mouths.
And he does. He heads back outside to the backyard where he last saw you. He doesnât see you right away, youâve moved. Youâre crouched down near a tree in the yard, watching something intently, face scrunched slightly in concentration, but youâve got a ghost of a smile on you face.
He smiles to himself, and begins to approach you. He tries to hide his disappointment when he notices you tense when you hear him get close.
âHey,â he says, and he says your name softly, like itâs something precious. Exactly how he always says it.
You bite your bottom lip. For a moment, he thinks you wonât respond. And you donât.
Instead, you reach behind you, extending a hand that he gladly excepts, and you pull him down so heâs kneeling, too.
You donât look at him, just nod towards the tree. He sees it. In the opening, he can see a squirrel, and he can see its babies.
He smiles at the sight, before turning to you. Heâs much more intrigued by the content look on your face, like youâve just seen the most amazing thing anyone could dream of.
He notices some of your hair falling in front of your face. Before he can think better of it, he gently brushes it behind your ear. He couldâve sworn your breath hitched, but the rest of your body language gave no indication that was the truth.
His hand lingers for a moment, and before he knows it, youâre standing up. Brushing off the dirt. Brushing off him. He stands too. He says your name again, like heâs going to say something else, something big, and you interrupt.
âSteve, I canât.â This is the most vulnerable heâs ever heard your voice. Even fighting monsters, even in your near-death moments, youâve never sounded like this.
âCanât what, sweetheart?â He asks quietly, slowing at the end of the last word, as if heâs testing it out. Heâs called you it before, but he stopped as to not make you uncomfortable. It still slips out sometimes.
You turn to face him, your expression not giving anything away. You look around, to where some of the kids are glancing out the window at you too occasionally. âCan we go sit in your car?â You ask, almost timid. He swears he imagined it. Youâre not timid.
He nods, quicklyâ too quickly. But he doesnât care. He fishes his keys from his pocket, and leads the way. Silently, giving you some space.
He opens the door for you, and despite it all, you smile. Your real smile. He gets lost in it for a minute before hurrying around his car to the driverâs side.
There it is again. Something new, something unlike you. Youâre fidgeting with your hands in your lap, breath uneven.
âWhy do you like me?â You ask, your normal tone returning, with a hint of something he canât place underneath. You turn and meet his gaze.
He sees it. Finally realizes. Why you shut people out. Why you canât let anyone in. Itâs written in your eyes. The hurt, the pain, the betrayal. And wha you hate the mostâ fear.
âOh, sweetheart,â he says, tentatively reaching out, placing his hand on your cheek.
You flinch, tensing at the touch. Steve doesnât pull away. A silent statement, a promise. âIâm not going anywhereâ.
âI like you because youâre protective of the people you love. Because you never give upâ never gave up. No matter what. Because you find things so beautiful anywhere and everywhere, like the squirrels. Because when you look at me, you see me. Because when the sun hits your face, youâre so radiant I can hardly breathe. Because you learned how to play D&D for those idiots. Because of how you are with Max and El. Thereâs so many reasons,â he says you name again.
Your eyes are searching him. Looking for any signs of a lie, a joke, a prank. You find nothing but earnest, honest, hope.
âIâve never done this before. Iâve never let someone in.â You say quietly. A pause. A breath.
âI donât know how.â You say, voice shaky.
âWhat if we figure it out together?â Steve asks, tilting your face up slightly so he can look you in the eyes. He holds his breath as he waits.
The months of unrequited feelings, the years of being confined to stolen glances at you, the agonizing moments of being a friend when he wanted to be so much more all flashing through his mind. Youâve told him no before.
For a moment, he thinks you will again. You think you might.
âOkay.â
Steve blinks. Freezes. Looks at you, praying this isnât a dream.
âOkay.â He repeats, and he canât contain his smile.
Robinâs pep-talk
Ugh love u and your work.
I have a request for YEARNING STEVE. Everything you do he just canât get enough. Touchy. Clingy. Whiney when youâre not near and everyone is lowkey sick of seeing it but he doesnât care he just wants YOU đ
good old-fashioned lover boy
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pairing - steve harrington x fem!reader (no use of yn)
genre - fluff, established relationship
warnings - tooth rotting fluff bc iâm in love w steve harrington & im projecting all my feelings into my work, lots of skin-ship, steve harrington yearns, gag-worthy amounts of being in luv, kissing & some making out! steve refers to u as his gf and baby multiple times, word count 3.7k đ§ââď¸
authors note - tysm for the req :) i hope this is ok, and ty for letting me yearn with no restraints <33 my ask box is always open for these kinds of things so pls donât be afraid to ask me to write something
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summary - 3 times steve harrington couldnât keep his hands off you, and the 1 time everyone called him out on it.
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if anyone were to ask, steve harrington would say his love language was physical touch. really, he couldnât help his insistent need to reach out and touch you, not that you complained most of the time anyways, because it was just how he expressed his feelings. sometimes words werenât enough, and steve was raised on the saying that âactions speak louder than words.â so it came to no surprise that heâd always have a hand on you; whether it was his fingers laced with yours, an arm slung over your shoulder or his hand ghosting over the small of your back, steve was always touching you in some degree.
steve could recall nearly every time heâd notice someone glance at the pair of you, or hear an off-handed comment from someone he knew about how you two were glued to the hip, how they almost never saw one of you without the other. he took pride in it, despite the judgemental tone some of them had, because why wouldnât he want to spend quality time with the love of his life? he never really understood the idea of being without someone for long periods of time, because in his mind: to be loved is to be present.
i.
there was nothing romantic about the cramped employee back room of family video. it was dusty, the air was stale and more often than not youâd walk in and find keith sitting at the desk with a game & watch under the pretence of âadmin workâ. yet, steve still had the nerve to convince you that he couldnât be more than five steps away from you, rambling on about how itâd physically hurt him to separate his hand from yours, and that heâs offended you wouldnât âwalk to the ends of the earth with your boyfriend in hand.â to which you just roll your eyes.
âsteve, youâre so dramatic sometimes..â heâs moping, complaining that you donât love him, because if you did, youâd be in the store room with him right now instead of calling him names. âis it a crime to want to be with my girlfriend?â heâs got a hand clutching his heart, murmuring that heâs wounded and the only cure for his broken heart is just behind the door to the back office. âno, but unauthorised entry in an employee only area is..â youâre teasing him now, steve is opening wearing his heart on his sleeve and expressing his unwavering love for you and youâre teasing him.
âbaby, youâve literally been behind doors countless times, and last time i checked..â heâs making a show of looking around, knowing full well the two of you were alone; robin not due to start her shift for another hour or so. â.. thereâs no one else here.â it has you rolling your eyes, and steveâs calling checkmate. heâs got you right where he wants, no more excuses lined up on your tongue and you just sigh, giving in easily like you always do. steveâs internally cheering, a smug smile on his face as he interlocks your fingers with his, tugging you towards the secluded area out back, and all you can do is follow.
before youâre even able to question his clingy behaviour, steve is slowly backing you towards the nearest wall, one hand laced with yours and the other is pressed against the cold surface beside you, and it all clicks. âbaby, you did not just convince me to come back here just so we can make out..â steve just shrugs, feigning innocence even when his eyes are telling you everything. âmm, donât know what youâre on about.â he leans in anyway, and you donât fight back, his lips on yours in a matter of seconds. and as much as you had wanted to poke fun of how needy he was today, you realised you needed this too, needed him close enough to touch, and you think youâre becoming just as bad as him.
it was just supposed to be a few innocent kisses, a few unspoken words in the form of his lips interlocked with yours, and yet, you canât help but have an arm strung around the back of his neck, your need to have him closer clouding your judgement. steveâs just as bad, both hands on your waist, bringing you in, chest to chest, and youâre both whining about being too far away, despite the lack of space left between you. âyouâre a terrible liar.â you call out, and heâs ignoring it in favour of kissing your jaw, following a path down your neck, while youâve got a hand bunched in his hair, tugging just hard enough to get a sound out of him. heâs grinning up at you now, from the junction of your throat you can feel his teasing smile, and you roll your eyes, pretending youâre not wrapped around his finger right now, like youâre not as equally eager to have him.
heâs sliding a hand underneath your shirt, drawing aimless shapes along your bare skin, lost in the feeling, before thereâs the distinct sound of shuffling outside that halts his movements. you both freeze, eyes stuck on the door before flicking back to each other, and youâre looking at him in horror, too afraid at the idea of being caught. âi thought you said it was just us?â you whisper, you curse him out for being reckless, and dragging you along with him, before you push him off you in favour of smoothing out the wrinkles on your clothes. steveâs groaning out in irritation, muttering something along the lines of âlast time i checked, it was.â before sticking his head outside to see what the commotion was all about.
âdingus, the fuck are you doing? thereâs a customer.â itâs robin, and steveâs eyes shoot up to the clock, sheâs early, and heâs wincing because really, out of all days. steve coughs awkwardly, some feeble excuse on his tongue dies when robin takes notice of his disheveled appearance and he can tell sheâs grown suspicious, that sheâs got questions he doesnât really want to reveal the answers to. her suspicions quickly turn into disgust when she pieces the picture together, and sheâs looking at the door as if she can already guess whoâs behind there with him. âthink you can see what they want? iâm a bit preoccupied.â and robin is feigning a gag, all while the customer just stands there, judging the both of them before making a comment about the lack of professionalism the youth have these day.
âiâm not even clocked in you idiot!â but it doesnât matter, because steveâs quick to close the door on her and robin flips him off when she thinks the customer isnât looking. they were, and itâs just another thing she has to deal with before her shift even begins.
ii.
steve thinks itâs entirely unfair that youâre ignoring him right now. heâs lying between your legs, breath tickling your thighs and practically yearning for your attention. yet youâre more engrossed in whatever it is that nancy is saying to you on the phone, than your amazing, perfect, and very bored boyfriend. sure, youâve go one hand playing idly with his hair, and itâs enough to have him close his eyes, to enjoy the way you rake your fingers through it softly, but itâs not enough to ease the ache of not being the centre of your attention. if the role were reversed, there wouldnât even be a phone call, steve would happily ignore all his responsibilities if it meant he got to laze around with you, the most important person in his life.
itâs quiet, and the only sound in the room is nancyâs small voice bleeding through the speaker. sheâs gossiping, giggling about something jonathan said and the vibration of your laughter makes steve look up, and he hates that heâs jealous over nothing. he hates that your attention is split between two, especially when it was so rare for the two of you to have a joint day off like this. sure, you both technically worked at the radio station, and you guys did see each other everyday, but rarely did he get to have you to himself like this.
heâs bored, grumbling under his breath and it momentarily grabs your attention, nancyâs speaking, but youâre not particularly listening right now, eyes locked onto your pouting boyfriend, whoâs rolling his eyes and moving out of your space. youâre raising an eyebrow, and heâs leaning over you, and a part of you is expecting him to cling on to you, to bridge the sudden space between you. he cranes his body over yours, and breathes out a quick âsorry nance.â before taking the phone out of your hand and hanging up, placing it back on the cradle, and you can hear her sigh before sheâs cut off. âsteve, i was using that.â and he hums, clearly not listening in favour of wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side and focusing on the movie that played as background noise.
âoh sorry, i didnât realise.â heâs being sarcastic, and you roll your eyes and hit his chest playfully, melting into his embrace nonetheless, because you were always so weak for your boyfriend despite his questionable intentions. âyouâre lucky i love you.â and he canât fight the smile on his face, he canât play the role of the upset boyfriend anymore, because you always knew how to have him swoon with just a few words. âyeah? love you too.â thereâs a lingering kiss to the edge of your mouth, and youâre turning your head, trying to catch his lips fully but heâs pulling away, teasing you like he always does.
âsteve..â the roles feel reversed now, like youâre the one vowing for his attention and you realise just how easy you played into his hands. âyouâre annoying.â he nods, âengrossedâ in the movie, and your fingers are grazing his jaw, pulling him back into your bubble so you can kiss him properly, so you can give him the attention you both were craving. âoh, hi baby.â steve is playing dumb, and you shake your head, bringing him even closer to the point where you have your legs thrown over his lap, perched on his thighs and blocking the view of the tv. âdonât âhi babyâ me steve.â and the act drops, hands on your waist and heâs sighing into your mouth, both of you longing for the other.
âmissed you.â heâs murmuring against your lips, breath mingling with yours and you can feel the way he pouts like he just canât believe you wouldâve rather spoken to nancy than to have him like this. âiâve been here all day stevie..â and heâs shaking his head, pulling you closer because itâs different, yeah, you were here physically, but your attention wasnât. steve just wanted to spend his day lying around idly with his girlfriend with no distractions, no interruptions.
âyou were on the phone with nance for ages..â a sigh leaves your lips, cooing at his obvious bitterness and youâre quick to move both hands to the sides of his face, forcing him to look at you and you lean in for a chaste kiss. âit was for like ten minutes, youâre such a big baby..â steve rolls his eyes, but thereâs a crack of a smile when he feels you stare at him, eyes shining with that familiar adoration and he doesnât respond to your very true statement, because heâs aware that he was acting out, but really, who cares when heâs got you like this.
âyeah yeah, now can we please pay attention to your very handsome, doting boyfriend who wants to kiss his beautiful girlfriend right now.â and you just nod, breathing out a laugh and leaning forward once again.
iii.
dustin really wishes he missed this crawl, maybe then he wouldnât have to deal with you and steve giggling in the front of the van like two lovesick teenagers. steveâs got a hand situated on your thigh, hearts in his eyes as you sit there, full focus on him whilst he explains the significance of the clutch pedal. you had made an offhanded comment on how you wish you learnt how to drive manual, and steve perked up, he felt like a petrolhead, eager to teach you all he knew.
dustinâs fiddling with a rubikâs cube he found lying around in the back, waiting for the signal from the others at the station, knowing itâd take awhile before they could finally hit the road. so heâs sighing, looking anywhere but the two of you, because he can already picture it, the way steve is gloating, priding himself on his extensive knowledge of shifting gears. he doesnât need to look over to picture the way youâre batting your eyes, humming along to every word steve says, hyperaware of how steveâs hand is inching higher without him even realising it.
dustin wants to gag, you two were so disgustingly into each other that itâs suffocating, itâs got him flicking the antenna of his walkie and mumbling into the speaker, voicing a prayer and a cry for help. he can hear a snicker on the other side of the frequency, itâs robin, and she doesnât even have the courtesy to act surprised, because it could be worse. âdonât bother henderson, itâs been like this all day.â and he sighs, because he thought you two wouldâve been tired of each other by now, really, he doesnât understand how you find steve interesting enough to be infatuated by him at all waking hours of the day.
he thinks of steve like an older brother, his best friend, someone he looks up to but even he also knows just how annoying he can be. he admires your loyalty, because dustin mightâve clawed his hair out if he had to deal with steve the same way you do. steve was different before the two of you met, that cool, uncaring facade he carried with him only switched on when you were around and now that you two were together and grossly in love, it was like he was looking at a completely different person.
steve harrington, the same guy who beat the shit out some demodogs, who put up a fight against the russians is now the same steve whoâs distracted by your every move, who misses his queues at the squawk because heâs too enamoured by you walking past while theyâre on air. the same steve who keeps a polaroid of you two in his wallet, who insists that he canât hang out with dustin on sundayâs because itâs date night, or because you two are seeing a movie. the same steve thatâs looking at you like youâve hung the stars, even in the cramped seats of the squawk van.
itâs best to ignore you two for now, because dustin knows that steve is too focused on you to even entertain his disappointed looks he keeps throwing at the pair of you. steve canât help it though, heâs been dreaming for a girl like you, and now that youâre finally his, he wants to make sure that you know how much you mean to him, even at the cost of being teased by the entire party for being at your beck and call.
â..and thatâs how you avoid a stall.â youâre nodding, and steveâs got that smug smile he always has when heâs showing off, and you couldnât find him any more attractive as you do right now. youâre not even remotely interested in manual driving anymore, not when youâre distracted by how he hot he looks when heâs focused on something. you donât even register the static of laughter in the back, the sound of a snicker coming through the speakers because steveâs looking at you in full earnest, soft smile tugged on his lips and itâs like the world around you goes mute.
âokay lovebirds, please donât forget iâm here too.â a voice chimes in, and itâs like someoneâs snapped their fingers, your attention drifting over from steve to dustinâs folded arms, he twitches when he can see you finally take off your rose tinted glasses and come back down to earth. you hear steve sigh beside you, annoyed that your time together is always cut short, and turns his head to greet his younger friend. âyes henderson?â but heâs distracted by the sound of your laughter, youâre clearing enjoying the exchange between the two and it just peeves dustin off more.
steve really canât stay annoyed for long, not when youâre there; he has a soft spot for you always, and not even dustinâs glare can spoil his mood. âcanât you two hold it in until after the crawl?â dustin chimes in again, his hands emphasising the telemetry tracker beside him, and you nod, promising the two of you will behave, much to steveâs dismay. âbaby..â you hold a hand out to stop steve from speaking out, and he pauses, eyes looking between you and dustin, and you can see the exact moment he gives up.
steve doesnât remove his hand from your thigh though, instead he laces his fingers with yours and squeezes, because he still craves your touch even when heâs silently moping like this. you smile at him, squeezing back, and itâs then that they finally get the signal to drive, and dustin couldnât be happier.
iv.
the kids had just graduated, and you soon find yourself situated with the others on the roof of the radio station. the nostalgia hitting and memories flood in of your time together at the squawk, and it feels like no time has changed, despite it being over a year since you all decided to pursue your seperate aspirations. thereâs the lingering feeling of sentimentality, seeing your friends after months apart, and knowing itâll be a long ways away until youâre all reunited again after this. it didnât help that robinâs final goodbye on the radio had your heart feeling heavy for the past couple hours now, and sitting here, drink in tow, wasnât doing it any favours.
jonathan and steve are bickering about the premise of jonathanâs film; capitalism, cannibalism? you werenât really paying attention to the two, your eyes trailing around you, taking in the scenery, the sunset, the memories, and youâre thinking back to the first time you had discovered how to climb up to the roof. robin notices your silence, because she too is reminiscing all the time she took for granted with you guys, you two lock eyes, and thereâs a silent agreement that youâd give anything to go back to how things were, minus the end of the world.
itâs then that robin speaks, roping nancy into spilling information about the âhot babes at emerson.â which has nancy rolling her eyes. she had dropped out, and that itself felt like a bombshell, but she had always known that maybe it wasnât on the cards for her, that she was destined for other things, and you envy it a little. you hadnât quite figured out what you wanted to do with your time, you felt a bit behind, and it was scary.
steve notices how quiet youâve gotten, and the familiar feeling of his hand sliding into yours, fingers intertwined, is enough to silence that nagging voice in your head for the time being. youâre squeezing his hand back, grateful for the distraction before you notice the others around you fall quiet, itâs jarring how awkward it feels before robinâs clearing her throat, and sheâs the one to address the elephant in the room.
âso is no one going to mention that huge rock on your hand?â and just like that, the air around you feels lighter and you canât help but laugh at how blunt sheâs being, and how shocked the others look when they finally take notice of the ring on your finger. âholy shit!â nancy exclaims, and sheâs quick to move out of her chair, smacking steveâs hand out of yours; to which he groans in faux annoyance, in favour of checking the diamond attached to you.
it makes steveâs heart swell, the familiar feeling of pride that situates itself whenever he looks down at the engagement ring he had bought months ago. itâs a reminder of just how lucky he is, how heâs finally found the one, that heâs promised forever with you. âoh yeah, that..â youâre shy when people notice, but you canât fight the grin that makes itâs way to your face every time, because steve harrington will always be your person, and now you have a physical reminder of that.
âspoiled her on a coachâs salary too.â you smack his shoulder, and steve pouts, knowing you canât stay mad at him for long. thereâs obvious heart eyes when you look up at him, that all too familiar feeling of yearning you donât think will ever fade. itâs disgustingly cute, atleast thatâs what robin says when she breaks the silence, and you canât help but shy away from the eyes of the others, their gazes soft and it makes you feel extra vulnerable.
âtook you long enoughâ robinâs calling out from beside you, and you furrow your eyebrows, because it still shocks you when you think back to his proposal, steve down on one knee with shining eyes and wobbly smile. he had this speech about how he couldnât imagine a life without you, it was endearing how nervous he was, how sweaty his hand got whilst it was latched with yours, and you always tear up when you think back to that moment, how easy it was to say yes.
ânow, whatâre your thoughts about having six little nuggets?â jonathan jokes, and steve shoots him a glare, but you donât fail to metion how easy it is to imagine a family with steve. âi mean, maybe not six, but definitely atleast two.â and it shuts steve up, you two had only really talked about kids a handful of times, nothing too serious, but heâs looking at you with stars in his eyes, thereâs that familiar look of adoration, and you can see jonathan instantly regret bringing it up. âgreat, youâve set him off again.â and steve doesnât even care, because heâll always be guilty of being in love with you, and god forbid a man is infatuated with his future wife.
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yeah i ainât even got an excuse for this one i literally blinked and it became this big ass fic.
i sincerely hope you all enjoyed this :) & please lmk if this was ok!!
i think a part of myself will always have room for steve, especially over the last month or so since i started writing. itâs kinda scary releasing something, but seeing people reblog and comment that they like my writing is enough for me to continue !!
thank u always <3