#steve harrington x self insert

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovie a lil request: the first time Steve May be raises his voice or gets upset with reader? And just like angst with fluff

Thank you for your request (and for your patience)!

cw: near-miss car accident, it's lightly implied that reader has trauma (or maybe she's just jumpy and easily upset! who's to say)

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 748 words

“You can’t tell me you don’t know who this is.” 

“I don’t!” Steve swears. “I’ve heard the song, I just don’t know who sings it.” 

You shake your head, grinning. You’ve got one leg hiked up on the driver’s seat and Steve’s hand trapped beneath the other, his fingers spread on the fleshy underside of your thigh. 

“This is Hall and Oates!”

When Steve doesn’t react however you think he should, you glance over. He raises his eyebrows. “Should I know who that is?” 

You laugh. “Yes!” you insist. “How can you not know who they are?”

“Sounds more like a cereal than a band,” he says. “I don’t know what to tell you. I listen to songs on the radio, but I just don’t keep track of the names. I like this song, though.”

You smile at him sideways. “I feel like you could be a secret Hall and Oates fan.” 

Steve gives your leg a squeeze. “It’d have to be a secret from me, too,” he says, “but I guess—hey, hey!” His voice rises sharply as he looks out his window. “Y/N!” 

You jolt, swerving out of the lane you’d been changing into as the car in your blind spot honks. You set your other leg down, hands tightening on the steering wheel. 

“Shit.” Steve lets out a breath. He realizes his grip on your leg has turned cruel in his panic, and he lets go. “Sorry. That was…shit, that was close.” 

You make a small sound of agreement. 

Steve breathes out again. He combs a hand through his hair, heart still going a mile a minute but starting to come down. “Y’okay?” 

You don’t say anything. Steve looks over, hand finding your thigh again automatically. Your body is stiff in your seat, and your eyes are bright. 

“Hey,” he says, surprised. Dread starts to take form in his gut. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s…it’s fine, why don’t we pull over? Pull over, baby.” 

You do, biting your lip to keep your tears from spilling. It makes Steve’s chest ache. He’s seen you like this before, when there’s fighting or sharp voices or once when Robin opened a cabinet and three metal pots clattered out onto the floor, but never with him, never because of him. 

“It’s okay,” he says again, once the car is in park. He tries to sound believable, making his voice soft and gentle. “Can I…do you want a hug?” 

You nod. Steve reaches for you, then stops, his hands hovering by your waist. “You sure?” he checks.

“Yeah,” you rasp, and he goes all the way. 

He knows you’ve cut yourself loose when you press your face to his shoulder and he feels a tiny wet spot seep into his shirt. Steve hugs you tight, leaning over the center console until it digs into his side painfully. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

“No.” You draw in a wet breath. “It was my fault. I wasn’t paying enough attention.” 

“I know, but I shouldn’t have yelled. I was just—I just got scared.” 

“I know,” you say back. You hold onto him. “I’m glad you yelled. It got my attention.” 

Steve frowns, retreating enough to see your face. He brushes away a couple of tears, and your eyes go to the side like you’re embarrassed. 

“I don’t ever want to scare you,” he says, earnestly. 

You shake your head. “You don’t.” 

He lowers his voice again. It’s nearly a whisper. “I’m sorry I yelled.” 

“Don’t,” you insist. “I’m fine.” 

Steve watches you carefully. “Yeah? You’re okay?” he asks. You nod, and he relaxes. “Okay. C’mere.” 

You meet him across the console without reservation, returning his gentle kisses with your own. He does his best to soothe the bullied flesh of your bitten lip. 

“Y’okay?” he asks again, just to be sure. You make a soft sound of confirmation. “You want me to drive the rest of the way?”

You pull back to look at him. A little bit of humor is back in your eyes. “Would that make you feel better?” 

Steve grins, sheepish. “A little bit. Only because you’re upset.” 

“Yeah,” you sigh heavily, and it’s a jokey thing, but the rest of the tension goes out of you with it. “That’s fine, we can switch.” 

“Thanks.” Steve gives you another kiss, lingering for a moment before unbuckling his seatbelt. “It’ll be easier this way. You can tell me more about honey bunches of oats.” 

“You know that’s not what they’re called.”

[filthyfluffyfantasies]

masterlist ┉ steve harrington

You’ve reached my masterlist for ( steve harrington ). Below is a complete and mostly up-to-date list of pieces I have written for ( steve harrington ) and a little list of symbols and their meanings to better help you find exactly what you’re looking for.

♡ Fluff | ♥ Filth | ☁ Angst | ☠ trigger warning needed | ★ Personal Favorite | ϟ Most Read | ☺ Work In Progress | ☻Abandoned

Happy reading, my darling!

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↪ ♥ lovemaking, lazyghouls kinktober 2023, read all warnings on post.

↪ ♥ creampie/breeding kink, lazyghouls kinktober 2023, read all warnings on post.

↪ ♥ role reversal, lazyghouls kinktober 2023, read all warnings on post.

↪ ♥ exhibtionism/voyeurism, lazyghouls kinktober 2023, read all warnings on post.

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[sundropflowerr]

You, Me, and Our Tree | Steve Harrington

★ Warnings: no use of y/n, post s4 where there’s a happy ending, fluff, sweet domestic vibes, established relationship, holiday cheer, cozy moments, cute banter and playful teasing (especially about christmas trees), soft kisses, mutual affection, gentle kisses, light humor, with a dash of sarcasm, comforting moments, deep connection, and a touch of nostalgia, lots of christmas decorating chaos and mismatched ornaments, cuddling, the warmth of being in love, snowstorm, cozy apartment setting.

★ Summary: On a snowy December day, you and Steve curl up together to decorate a lopsided tree, laughter filling the air as you argue over the perfect placement for each ornament. It’s warm, it’s simple, and it feels like everything you wanted. 1.7k

★ Pairings: steve harrington x gn!reader

★ Fic Inspiration: “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” - Frank Sinatra

★ Dividers: thank you to @strangergraphics for the adorable divider, it’s greatly appreciated!

★ Author’s Note: i love christmas and i love steve so two and two together brought this love child. though short, i had a blast writing this. i need to set up a christmas tree with steve asap.

The first snowstorm of the season had rolled in sometime during the early hours of the morning, soft and steady, a blanket of white slowly swallowing Hawkins.

You hadn��t realized how bad it had gotten until a snowplow rattled by just before dawn, shaking the windows and dragging you out of sleep. By the time you got up for coffee, the street outside had disappeared beneath a foot of snow, the world outside pale and silent.

It was the kind of day you’d both hoped for—one where you could stay home, tangled in blankets, too lazy to do anything but exist together. Steve, being Steve, had insisted you stay inside, warm and cozy, while he braved the cold to get a Christmas tree for the two of you. He didn’t want you dealing with the snow or the chill, though you argued you’d be fine. But Steve was relentless, refusing to let you leave the comfort of your apartment.

That’s how you ended up here, curled up on the couch, waiting for him to return with the tree.

“Don’t slip and break your neck,” you’d said, still half-asleep, as Steve grabbed his coat that morning.

He turned to you, his usual overconfident grin spreading across his face. “I’ll be fine. It’s just snow. You think it’s gonna stop me?”

You weren’t sure whether to roll your eyes or smile. Three years together and you still couldn’t decide if Steve was brave or just plain stubborn.

Probably both.

When the buzzer crackled through the quiet of your apartment, you weren’t at all surprised—it was exactly what you’d been waiting for.

“Can you let me in? I’m freezing out here.”

Steve’s voice cut through the receiver, muffled and shivering, and you buzzed him in without a word. By the time you opened the door, he was halfway up the stairs, carrying a thin, lopsided Christmas tree under one arm like it weighed nothing at all.

“Ta-da,” he said, breathless and grinning, as he kicked the door shut behind him. Snowflakes dotted his hair and shoulders, melting into tiny drops. His nose and cheeks were pink from the cold, a scarf you knitted two years ago wound haphazardly around his neck. “Look at this beauty.”

“That’s what you call a beauty?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you stepped aside to let him in.

Steve shot you a look as he leaned the tree against the wall, shaking snow out of his hair with one hand. “Don’t start. This guy’s perfect.”

“It’s leaning.”

“It’s got character,” he argued, already shedding his wet coat and boots by the door. His socks were damp, his jeans dusted with snow, and he looked entirely too proud of himself.

“Three years of this and you still pick the saddest-looking tree every time,” you teased, crossing your arms as he toed off his boots.

“Consistency’s important,” he said, straightening up and flashing you that grin that made your heart flip like it was ‘85 all over again. The grin you first fell for when you were both crammed into those stupid Scoops Ahoy uniforms, trading banter and ice cream scoops while monsters lurked under Hawkins.

Steve looked at the tree again, hands on his hips like a dad surveying a new lawn. “It’ll look better once we decorate it. Trust me.”

“Your track record isn’t great, Harrington.”

He ignored you, instead stepping closer, brushing his cold hands against your arms with a soft, teasing smile. “Missed me?”

“You’re freezing,” you muttered, but you didn’t step away. You never did. His hands were cold, his hair was wet, and he still managed to feel like home.

Before you could say anything else, Steve leaned down, his lips brushing softly against yours, a sweet, familiar kiss that felt like everything. His cold lips melted against yours, and for a moment, it was just the two of you—no snowstorm, no responsibilities, just him and you, wrapped up in the warmth of each other.

The tree didn’t take long to set up—mostly because Steve insisted on doing all the heavy lifting while you watched with an amused smile. By the time it was finally in the stand and mostly upright, he was on the floor, legs sprawled out, glaring up at the crooked branches like they’d personally wronged him.

“You think it leans more to the left or the right?” he asked.

“It’s pretty balanced,” you lied, trying to bite back a laugh.

Steve turned to you, his expression dry. “You’re lying. I can tell.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, sinking onto the couch with a mug of hot chocolate in hand. “It’s perfect. Really.”

He squinted at you for another second before shaking his head with a chuckle. “Unbelievable.” But he stood anyway, brushing snow-dampened palms against his jeans as he moved toward you. “You’re lucky I’m in love with you, y’know.”

“You tell me that like it’s news,” you teased, and Steve dropped onto the couch beside you, letting out an exaggerated groan as he stretched his legs.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, mugs warm in your hands, the soft hum of the radiator filling the quiet. Outside, snow continued to fall, casting a pale glow through the window that made the room feel softer somehow, almost golden.

It was strange, you thought, how this had become your normal—Steve Harrington, tangled up on your couch, feet brushing yours under a blanket that barely covered the both of you. You remembered when all of this was still new: the way he’d knocked on your door that first Christmas after Starcourt, holding a scrappy little tree he’d picked out himself because, in his words, “Someone’s gotta keep the tradition going.”

That was three years ago. Back when you’d both been bruised, uncertain, and still trying to find something steady after everything you’d been through.

But now, as Steve leaned closer, stealing your blanket and grinning when you protested, you realized how far you’d come. How easy it was to love him after all these years.

“You know,” Steve murmured, his voice quieter now, “I think this might be the best tree yet.”

You tilted your head to look at him. “You say that every year.”

“Yeah, but I mean it this time.” He was still looking at the tree, his expression softer now, like he wasn’t really talking about the tree at all. “Just feels… right, y’know?”

You did know.

Decorating the tree turned into a whole production. Steve pulled the box of ornaments out of the hall closet, insisting on playing Christmas music from the cassette player on the bookshelf—old, crackly tunes that filled the apartment with warmth.

You handed him the lights first, watching as he tried (and failed) to untangle the string from the knot he’d stuffed it into last year.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” you asked, biting back a laugh as he scowled at the mess of wires.

“Because I’m an idiot,” Steve replied, deadpan.

“You said it, not me.”

Eventually, you took pity on him and helped untangle the mess. The two of you strung the lights together, Steve holding the tree steady while you wrapped the glowing strand around its crooked branches. By the time you plugged them in, the entire room felt warmer, the golden light spilling across the walls.

Steve grinned, hands on his hips as he admired your work. “Not bad.”

“You mean my work,” you corrected, bumping his shoulder as you reached for the ornaments.

The box was full of mismatched decorations you’d collected over the last few years: a little snowman you’d found at the flea market, a glittery star that Steve insisted on buying last year, even a couple of hand-painted ones from Dustin and Max. You handed them to Steve one at a time, watching as he placed them carefully on the branches, sticking his tongue out in concentration.

“You’re taking this very seriously,” you said, smirking.

“I’m a professional,” he replied without missing a beat.

You didn’t realize how close he’d gotten until you turned to hand him the last ornament, and he was already looking at you, that soft, lopsided smile on his face.

“What?” you asked, heart skipping.

“Nothing.” He shook his head slightly, still smiling. “Just happy.”

You paused, fingers brushing his as you handed him the ornament—an old glass bauble you’d found at Scoops one summer, forgotten in a box in the stockroom. You’d kept it ever since.

“Me too,” you said quietly.

Steve turned to hang the ornament, his movements gentle, almost reverent. When he stepped back, the tree glowed softly in the corner of the room, its crooked branches dripping with lights and mismatched baubles.

It was far from perfect, but it was yours.

Later, after dinner, the two of you ended up back on the couch, wrapped up in the same too-small blanket, watching the tree flicker in the dark. The apartment smelled like pine and leftover takeout, the kind of cozy warmth that made your eyelids heavy.

Steve’s arm was around you, his thumb tracing slow circles against your shoulder. You could feel him breathing, slow and steady, his cheek resting against the top of your head.

“You know what I was thinking?” he murmured after a while.

“Hm?”

“We should get a bigger place next year. Like, with a fireplace or something. I feel like we need one of those.”

You smiled, tilting your head up to look at him. “For what? Stockings?”

“And hot chocolate,” Steve replied, smirking. “And to impress everyone when they come over.”

“You mean the kids.”

“Yeah. And Robin.”

You laughed softly, curling closer into his side. “We’ll think about it.”

Steve hummed, his hand still moving gently against your arm. “Good. ‘Cause I was already looking at—”

“Steve.”

“Right, right.” He grinned, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “We’ll think about it.”

Outside, snow tapped faintly against the windows, the streetlights casting long shadows across the floor. And as you sat there, wrapped up in Steve and the quiet of your shared apartment, you realized there was nothing else you needed.

The tree might be crooked, the lights uneven, but everything about this felt perfect.

It always did, with him.

thank you so much for reading! please like/reblog or comment if you did, it would be greatly appreciated. have a great day!

[hawkinsbnbg]

Imagine you’re Corroded Coffin’s hardcore fan who owns a bar and you keep seeing this one guy (whose name is Steve) with a different member every weekend night.

Problem is you’re 99% sure they don't know they’re all dating this Steve guy at the same time. Which is awful and cruel of him.

Although Steve seems nice enough (always leaves big tips and says thank you to your staff), you know from experience that you can’t judge a book by its cover. Your long line of “nice” exes can prove that.

And despite everything, you have to admit Steve is unfairly attractive. No wonder these guys are so whipped for him that they had collectively fallen for his deception.

So as Corroded Coffin’s loyal fan, you seethe and fume on their behalf. Never outrightly rude to Steve because duh, you don't want to act like an ass when Eddie Munson is sitting there, utterly besotted to Steve who has been stringing him and his bandmates all along this whole time.

So you plan, scheme, drop a note here and there each night they come to the bar with Steve, hinting about the truth, telling them to keep an eye out, that they’re being played like a fine violin in Steve’s hands.

It’s the best you can help without making a scene and probably causing unnecessary scandals.

Frankly, their love lives aren't your business, but your conscience doesn't allow you to sit this one out.

Except their reactions aren’t what you expected. You can see Eddie or Jeff may let it slide, but when even Gareth and Doug just look amused, you realize maybe you had had it all wrong.

The next Saturday night, you watch Doug and Gareth hang out with Steve, both give Steve heart eyes, and both jokingly fight over Steve who looks beet red.

Then Sunday night rolls by and you see the same thing happen with Jeff and Eddie.

The only difference is that they both steal kisses from Steve when they think no one looks. And just like the previous night, Steve glows under their flirting and unfettered affection.

For the first time since you started observing Steve from afar, you finally notice how gone he is for his boyfriends. How he’s just as bad when it comes to them. Completely smitten and infatuated.

Shaking your head, you go back to your job, happy that your favorite metalheads have found their person and wondering when it will be your turn.

Maybe one day soon.

[vilentia]

Unmasked

Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: A tender and intimate relationship unfolds, allowing Steve to discover and embrace his true self.

****

The quiet aftermath of the Upside Down brought a stillness to Hawkins that was almost eerie. For you, it was a return to normalcy, but for Steve Harrington, it was the beginning of a new journey.

In your small, cozy living room, with its mismatched cushions and soft, warm lighting, Steve found a haven. Here, he was no longer King Steve, the guy with the nail-bat, or the default babysitter. Here, he was just Steve, and it was both terrifying and liberating.

"I've always had to be something more," he confessed one evening, as you both lay sprawled on the couch. Your head rested against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "King Steve at school, the protector for the kids... It's like I never got the chance to just be me."

His words hung in the air, mingled with the faint scent of the jasmine candle burning on the coffee table. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, which always seemed to carry the weight of his unspoken thoughts.

"You don't have to be anything but yourself here, Steve," you said softly, your hand finding his. "With me, you're safe."

It was a slow process, watching the layers peel back from a persona that had been carefully constructed over years. But in these quiet moments, with shared smiles and gentle touches, Steve began to let go.

Rain tapped gently against the window on a chilly evening, the kind of rain that whispered secrets and promised new beginnings. Wrapped in a blanket, you both watched the droplets race down the glass, an unspoken comfort in the silence between you.

"I was always scared to show weakness," Steve admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "To be vulnerable meant to be open to hurt, and I couldn't afford that. Not with everything that was going on."

Your fingers traced patterns on the back of his hand, a silent reassurance. "It's okay to let those walls down, Steve. Here, with me, you don't have to be strong all the time."

As he turned to you, his eyes were an open book of fears and dreams, of battles fought and scars borne. But there was also hope, a flicker that grew stronger in your presence.

"With you, I feel like I'm just starting to understand who I am. Not some role I have to play, but me. Steve Harrington, without all the extra baggage," he said, a small, genuine smile playing on his lips.

You leaned in, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was tender and filled with understanding. It was a reassurance, a promise, a moment of shared vulnerability.

In the days that followed, your relationship blossomed into something beautiful and real. Movie nights turned into impromptu dance sessions in your living room, his laughter filling your space with a joy that was infectious. Cooking together became a regular activity, filled with playful flour fights and stolen kisses.

One evening, as you both lay curled up under a blanket, watching the embers of the fire dance in the fireplace, Steve's voice broke the comfortable silence. "I love you," he said, his voice steady and sure. "Not for the heroics or the adventures, but for this. For the quiet moments, for the comfort, for the realness."

Your heart swelled with an emotion so profound it was almost overwhelming. "I love you too, Steve. For who you are, for who you've been, and for who you're yet to become."

In your embrace, he found a peace he'd never known. With you, he was unmasked, vulnerable, and utterly content. And as you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of each other's arms, the world outside didn't seem so daunting anymore. Together, you were ready to face whatever came next, unmasked and unafraid, in love and in life.

[greenandsorrow]

You're my best friend

✨Eddie is in love with his best friend (fem!reader)✨

feelings of inadequacy, fluff, comfort, light angst

"Damsel I'm back!!!! It's so excruciating going grocery shopping..."

It's the melodramatic entrance and the small pout at the end of his sentence as he kicks off his stinky shoes that makes you chuckle.

"Glad you survived Edds."

You two used to talk at school and were on good terms. After he failed to graduate twice you became classmates and got so so so so so close. The truth is that he always had a crush on you, but regardless of that your friendship is real and runs deep.

When you were looking for a place to stay after deciding you needed some time away from your family, Eddie told you that you can stay with him -his uncle is barely at home anyway- as long as you do the cooking. Least to say, you accepted the offer.

You listen to him playing his electric guitar, he keeps you company while you study, you have laughed and cried together. He doesn't mind you're not a complete freak like him, but more of a black sheep at school. There have been rumours you're dating and at first you liked being dramatic about it. Unfortunately for him, you're actually dating someone now so the "being dramatic about it" has stopped. Eddie doesn't enjoy your romantic interest taking your attention away from him, but he respects you too much to say anything that could even remotely throw you off.

You are roommates, you have your rules, your movie nights... and he's a gift from God you can't lie. He has learnt and accepted your every little quirk and peculiarity.

Sometimes you make hot chocolate and play Scrabble with Dustin and him. Sometimes you play with his hair while he's stoned. He has significantly cut down on smoking all this shit since you moved in.

Eddie isn't the jealous type, but the pit at his stomach envious type, the delicate disappointment that he can't have you the way others do type.

You'll be his first and last kiss.

Eddie drives you everywhere with his trashy car. He's the best company you could have ever asked for. You love your friend. You wish more people could see him the way you do.

The night is uneventful with you falling asleep on the couch as per usual. In the morning, Eddie wakes you up by ruffling your already messy hair and singing "you are my sunshine" in an ear bleeding frequency.

You're too sleepy to care and just stretch, your lack of a bra not going unnoticed. An awkward giggle is all he lets out, but internally he's so grateful for his hair covering his ears. They're burning too intensely for this time of day.

You get ready for school. It's all routine.

After school, you have your shift at the same place Mrs. Wheeler works in. At least it's quiet.

At this point you feel too bored for your own good, not to mention how your date canceled on you a third time in a row. You return home so done with life. Your hero, Eddie, has prepared the hot water just for you. He welcomes you in by telling you that you're late and have missed the DnD match, but he quickly realizes you're not in the mood.

You're so mentally exhausted, fed up and frustrated with your canceled date that you try to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Eddie gets a little hurt because the rules say no pitty fucking amongst pals.

When there's no reaction from him you just pull back and shrug. You won't show how embarrassed you actually feel. Not in this already pitiful state. Eddie knows about the canceled dates.

He does try to move on and get some snacks and a movie ready. He is flustered... your breath was so hot on his face... good thing he has time to shake the feeling off while you shower.

"The grime has been washed off!"

"We can talk about it, ...if you want to that is?"

Eddie is genuinely worried about your emotional state and he makes you open up and even break down in his arms. You have been living in denial but your love interest has been distancing themselves from you.

After this crying session, with you holding onto Eddie's warm body and wetting his Hellfire Club shirt with mascara tears, you put on a horror film. He even lets the fact that you're wearing your now ex's hoodie drop. Even though the revelation makes his chest tighten and his breath canal feel like it's been blocked.

You fall asleep on him.

He can feel the outline of your curves and your breasts pressing against him but the way he's holding you is gentle, like he's afraid you'll break into a thousand small, sharp pieces if he squeezes you too hard. You're even snoring softly, completely drained from all the crying.

At least you can't notice the silent tears running down his face. It's unfair. He's choking up in all the unsaid things. He had to see you crying over someone that doesn't even appreciate you while he was there. Exposed to you, ready to give you all he had.

Is he not your best friend? Who is there painting your nails and giving you scalp massages when your period headaches torment you?

Maybe if his mother hadn't abandoned him he would have been able to ask her for advice. He feels like crap now. Are you really that blind? Do you take him for granted to such an extent as you showed him tonight?

Another morning comes, but insecurities gnaw at Eddie. He can't fake a smile when you yawn and open your eyes, realising you're still wrapped around him.

"You look like shit."

Normally he wouldn't mind your choice of words at all, probably finding something even worse to say to you, but in his fragile state... Eddie snaps.

"It's not funny y/n! Do you think it's funny when someone spends the night sleepless?!"

You tilt your head, your mouth forming a straight line.

"I didn't mean to-"

"Oh no, I don't wanna hear it! Are you really as insensitive as you let out?"

"Edds I... I-"

"Shut up! Just shut up! I can't take it anymore! You have me wrapped around your finger y/n, feeding me hope and baked goodies.. but I've never heard a single I love you Eddie, not a single I actually care for you Eddie... Nothing!"

His big eyes are glassy now, tears threatening to spill down his freshly shaven cheeks. It breaks your heart to see him like this.

"B- but I do... I do love you!"

Your voice cracks as you feel your own eyes swelling up with tears.

"Then prove it! Prove it goddamn it! Wear my hoodies, worry over me for a change... Just please... Please-"

All the energy and anger have vanished from his expression and tone. Your gaze has softened as well and he feels like he's melting under it.

You extend your arms, wrapping them tightly around him. Eddie returns the embrace like you're gonna vanish into thin air if he doesn't hold you close enough to be able to feel your heartbeat against his own.

"Have I been so blind?" you ask without breaking the hug.

"Yes you glorious idiot of a girl..."

The pout... the melodrama. He's okay now. You stay like this for a while, missing your classes but at least settling into the conclusion.

You two belong together.

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my masterlist 🫶

I found all my shifting scripts from quite some time ago, so since I'm still in this stupid writer's block I thought it'd be fun to work on some pre existing material. I had to edit this ALOT, but it came out cute ngl✨

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

drunk in love

pairing: steve harrington x female!reader

WC: 2K

warnings: mentions of drinking, little sexual implications. very tame.

summary: steve being drunk and in love

A/N: took the hc from @headkiss​ about glasses steve and just ran with something. most of this i wrote at the gym on the treadmill.

@alecmores​ my editor💕

been in the drafts since may 6

masterlist / steve harrington

it’s been a while since you and steve were able to go out and enjoy yourselves, and when the perfect opportunity presented itself the both of you snatched it up. although right now, as you're slightly buzzed and steve is leaning off of eddie’s shoulder, you know getting him home is gonna be a hassle. eddie and robin weren’t making things better, in fact, they were making it worse. eddie would pull steve’s silver framed glasses away, which added to his blurring vision, and robin would hand him a glass and say, “it’s just water, dingus.” it was not water, in fact, it was a shot of vodka. steve would stick his tongue out with a grimace as his two friends just laughed.

“all right, all right.” you step in, pushing the glass away from steve’s outstretched hands, “i think that’s enough for tonight, big guy,” you say with two pats to his chest.

steve’s eyes were closed as he rolled his head back and hummed. you snatched his glasses back from eddie and tipped his face down to you. you had to wiggle the handles a bit before they sat on his red ears. his eyes blinked a few times, the mindless action looked like a focusing task for him before his warm eyes danced over your face.

“pwetty.” he even giggled a little. he moved away from eddie and wrapped his long and heavy limbs over your shoulders and pulled you into his chest. his cologne was mixed with sweat and hints of alcohol that stained his clothes and spiked his mouth.

“why don’t we get you to bed? how’s that sound?” you had to handle him like a toddler, just a little bit.

he didn’t verbally reply. just the feeling of him nodding his head, nose, and lips brushing your skin. you rubbed along his spine and he seemed to melt further.

you looked to a giggling robin and a watchful eddie who had a smirk painted on his lips. you just glared at the two of them and their childish antics toward your boyfriend.

“hope y’all had fun picking on my boy. you will not be hearing from us for the next few days.” you threw a playful middle finger their way as you left the venue.

-

steve was very handsy and clingy when heavily intoxicated. and you didn’t mind the extra love and attention, it’s just a lot when you have to push him away as you're both in the back of a taxi heading to your shared apartment. at first, it would be his arms innocently wrapped around your waist with his head leaning against your shoulder as he groaned. you would scratch his scalp or rub his back and tell him, “we’ll be home soon,” followed by a kiss to his temple. then his sleepiness would be replaced by his hornyness as he would start to place kisses on your free skin and his hands would soon wonder.

“steve…” you kept a firm tone even as he set your pulse thumping. he just hummed, just hummed! like his fingers weren’t crawling further up under your shirt and very close to your bra.

“stevie…” a slight hitch to your voice, “now isn’t the time or place.” there was another kiss just under your jaw before you heard him groan and pull his burning touch away. you heaved a sigh as you looked at the dirty car ceiling.

-

moving a man taller, heavier, and more intoxicated than you was always a challenge. well, the first two are always difficult even when sober. but when steve is close to passing out, he suddenly becomes cement and you have to make sure your knees don’t give out.

at this point in the night, you can be seen giving steve a piggyback ride… well, more like steve is leaning his front against your back and he’s dragging his feet. sometimes his glasses get caught in your hair and you groan quietly.

your thankful your apartment building has an elevator cause you would have just made the stairs your bed for the night.

steve rests his back on the wall and it gives your body a break. you turn your head at the dozing-off man-child behind you, with his arms still over your shoulders. his light brown hair that was styled earlier is now curled and tangled from the constant fingers running through them. long lashes flutter over his dark circles from long and rough hours from work and his lips were parted to let air tickle your neck hair. his glasses were slowly sliding down his oily nose bridge.

you didn’t want to, but you had to wake him up again. two taps under his chin and his head jerked up, you worried he would slam it into the wood paneling.

“sorry baby. just a few more steps and you can crash,” you pushed the glasses up and gave a kiss to his nose. a hazy grin was shown.

“your… your the-“  hiccup “- the best.”

you shrugged like you were saying, ‘what can i say?’

once you were on your floor it seemed something gave a bit of pep to steve’s steps as he wasn’t using you to keep him upright and he was the one leading you home. when you got the lock open and the door swung in, it’s like steve set foot in heaven.

“home! oh, sweet home! i’ve missed you so much! my lovely, lovely home.” it always made your heart burst whenever steve called the apartment home. and you remember why he does, it’s a loop even time he says the word.

“cause you and i are together no matter the time of day. when i’m with you it’s home and when we’re at the apartment it’s home, but like extra homey. a place where our love is physical to everyone, even ourselves.”

you ended up jumping onto steve and made out with him for a few hours until you had to start dinner.

steve’s whine of your name snapped the memory away. you couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your lips. he laid on his back with his arms reaching for you as his hands made a grabbing motion like a child asking to be picked up.

you weren’t gonna have him sleep on the floor even if he looked comfortable. so you spread your legs and waddled your feet until his knees were under you. you grabbed his forearms for added stability and tugged with all your might, which was useless. he was a bag of sand.

“stevie,” you huffed as you tried again, “i know… i said you could crash when we got home… but your back is gonna hurt real bad in the morning.”

“honey, i’m already in bed.” steve pouted. you shake your head with an amused grin, “no, you’re not. you’re on the living room floor, which i have to add, needs to be vacuumed.”

steve groaned again. you knew it wasn’t pointed toward you, just his drunk mind doing things. “steve, please don’t make me throw a cup of water at you… again.”

steve huffed, “okay, okay.” his arms dropped like anchors to the floor and he sat up, stopped, then moved to stand. and he stopped again, eyes squeezed shut, and you were really hoping he wasn’t gonna throw up.

“i’m good.” two thumbs up before stumbling towards the bedroom. it was like watching bambi on ice.

you took a detour to the kitchen for a glass of water and some of the cookies steve likes to munch on. then you grabbed some of your doctor-prescribed headache medication. you took a pill quickly in case a headache might creep up on you during the night.

when you walked through the threshold of your shared bedroom, you snorted at the sight. steve was able to kick his sneakers off at the foot of the bed, but the rest of his clothes were another thing. his light wash levi jeans (that make his ass look sooooo good) were pushed down to his knees showing off his white boxers. his shirt was lifted from his torso but covered his face, arms bent. you ogled for a minute before your thoughts ran from you.

“oh, stevie. what am i gonna do with you?” you set your treasure atop the dresser and finished his work.

when you managed to strip him of his shirt you were greeted with a smirk flashing your way. your brows raised slightly at the pull of his lips.

“what?” you leaned close to steve’s face. his head turned. “wanna fool around?” he wiggled his brows drunkenly, very suggestively. you blinked a few times at him. “one, you’re plastered. and two, if we even did have sex, it would only be kissing before you passed out on me.”

“and what a way to sleep.” a deep chuckle from his chest.

you threw his clothes in the hamper as you made quick work of changing as well. “i’m so lucky,” you heard steve mutter behind you, “my wife is the hottest woman alive.”

now if you were walking, you would’ve tripped at the words spewing from steve’s mouth. you did a slow turn and saw steve staring at his hands, not a thought behind his eyes. so you tried not to think hard about steve calling you his wife. even though it’s already pinballing everywhere with dreams of a future married together. oh, how you wish you could release a squeal of ever-loving joy.

doing your nighttime routine just put you on autopilot. from feeling floaty and warm to just wanting to fall asleep in your cozy bed with your personal space heater. as you brushed your teeth, you went to check on steve again and made sure he was breathing. he managed to pull himself under the covers, the blanket tucked all the way to his chin. but he still had his glasses on, you don’t know how he doesn’t feel them seeing as he’s on his side with his head towards your spot on the bed.

doing a double check of the locks on the door and windows and seeing everything was secure, you flicked the lights out and walked in the dark. the small night light on your nightstand gave a faint pale yellow glow that illuminated steve’s peaceful face. you could see a small bit of his chest moving with each steady breath he took, and his lips separated. he had one arm tucked under his pillow while the other was stretched to your side, his palm flat on the cover and his fingers would twitch every few seconds.

you set a knee on the mattress and lean forward slowly hoping not to wake him, which is easy or hard, depending on the situation. with nimble fingers, you grab his wired frames, and gently and slowly you pulled them away from his face. his face scrunched a bit, specifically his nose and you swooped in for a peck. steve hummed and his hand moved again and made contact with your knee.

“honey, cuddle me.” said like a command but was in the tone of a whine. but you wouldn’t deprive your best boy of cuddles, or yourself of cuddles.

so, you set his glasses down and slide into his waiting arm. steve automatically threw the limb over your waist as you got yourself comfortable. a good night kiss to his forehead before you let your head hit the pillow and wrapped your own arms around steve to pull him closer. one more kiss to the middle of his throat. and another to his collarbone. and the very last to his shoulder.

“one more,” he grumbled. you moved your head back and saw he was pouting his lips. a proper good night kiss as steve always says.

so you pressed your lips to his, deciding he could use a bit more than a lightning-fast peck. and when you pulled back he had a dreamy smile and pulled you even closer to his chest.

“i’m gonna marry you one day.” he whispered to your hair before giving light snores. and you closed your eyes with a gigantic smile as you dreamed of that special day when you marry the boy you love with your whole being.

...

[im-robins-bitch]

Waltz (s.h x gn!reader)

Or, two years of you and Steve dancing around your hidden feelings has led you to this. Steve decides to finally take the lead because you were taking far too long.  1.2k

“Stevie-” You warned. His hand tangled with yours and he pressed it against the wall, your body following. He wasn’t going to let you go, it was now or never. 

“You know, I hate when people call me that” His caramel eyes bore into yours.

“Yeah, I know, that's the whole point” You smiled up at him, eyes filled with mirth. You were trying to ignore that whatever this was, wasn’t the usual teasing game you liked to play. This was something more serious, more permanent. 

You never had many friends before now and the thought of losing one, especially losing Steve, was terrifying. Whatever happened now, at this moment, was surely going to change the course of your relationship with Steve in one way or another. Finally, break you out of the game of chicken you two were playing. Pushing the boundaries of platonic friendship until it snapped into pieces. 

“I only hate it when other people call me that”

You didn’t know if you were ready. If you heard his flirting and knew he was serious how could you hold back your stutter? When he brushed his hand against yours, how could you hide the beating of your heart, the swarm of butterflies in your stomach? 

In the waltz of your relationship with Steve, you had always been leading. You had been the one to pick on him when he needed it, the one to tease him until he blushed. You felt comfortable, you were in control and control was something you had a desperate lack of in your life. 

Now though, in the possible next stage of your relationship, Steve would be the one leading the dance. 

The intimacy that you craved, but your body naturally sidestepped at every turn. It was just within reach. His fingertips lightly brushed against your cheek softly, like he was touching a crumbling page in a precious book. 

It was Steve, your Steve. You didn’t know when you started thinking about him that way but at some point you did. 

You pressed your hand over his, cradling it against your face. You cherished the warmth that seeped from his palm. It was November and somehow Steve's hands were still warm. That was just Steve all over. 

Steve sucked in a breath, but he didn’t push you for any kind of verbal response. He had never been patient, but he had learnt the hard way he sometimes needed to be for you. “Stevie” You whispered. It came out more breathless than you intended, but he had a tendency to leave you that way. 

Steve leaned in closer, pressing his forehead to yours. “Honey” He whispered back, just as sweetly. You hated how your cheeks felt warmer and your eyes fluttered close. 

“I-I- used to hate when you called me that” 

Steve grinned, nose nudging yours. It made you yearn for more, your face moving gingerly forward to try and nudge against his again. “Yeah, I know that was the whole point,” he says parroting your own words back to you.

A long summer day, spent gossiping with Robin over her lunch break at Scoops Ahoy had led to Steve’s greatest discovery. Something that had finally tipped the iceberg a little in his favour. A word that would always get you to shut up. 

You were loose-lipped with Robin, her over-sharing and constant chatter leading you to be the same. It was a fast friendship, a friendship Steve pretended not to be jealous of. Somehow you began talking about pet names, probably brought about because that had been the same summer the nickname Stevie had been coined. It was a surefire way to annoy Steve, which was your favourite activity. You had confessed that honey had always been a favourite of yours, which Steve had overheard when he walked in to collect more sprinkles. Thus he found the perfect payback. 

You had all spent the rest of the summer ignoring things. You Ignored the shiver that ran up your spine every time he called you honey. Steve ignored the way finally seeing you flustered made his chest ache with want. You all collectively ignored the fact that you went to Scoops Ahoy way more often than anyone who worked on the other side of town should. 

You couldn’t ignore this now though. Your heart screaming at you to just move a couple more inches, to press your lips to his. “So you don't hate it now?” You watched as his soft lips formed the words, barely even comprehending they made a sentence. You shook your head, it was all you could manage.

He darted his tongue out to wet his lips. He knew it would make you have some kind of reaction. He didn’t realise the shallow gasp you would let out would make him have the reaction he did. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked. His patience was crumbling. He knew he could stretch this out, a small revenge for the past two years of your own merciless teasing. Neither of you wanted that though. He had wanted this for so long now and he finally knew that you did too. 

He had torn down the tall walls you had protected yourself with brick by brick. Getting a little closer to you day after day. He saw your hard exterior, but he also saw the soft centre. The way you cared for the kids, for your friends and for him. Him being treated with extra tenderness.

Using all the courage you could muster, your hand fisted his t-shirt, pulling him the little distance that was between you and connecting your lips with his. If you were going to lose this battle, you at least wanted to be the one who made the final move.

Steve could taste the blueberry chapstick you had put on earlier and he knew every taste of the blueberry afterwards would remind him of you. Your cold hand moved from his shirt to the back of his neck, fingers entwining with his hair and tugging at it lightly. Your nose’s bumped together, trying to set a pace. You found yourself giving into his lead as you both tried to figure out how the other worked.

You pulled apart moments later, your smiles breaking the kiss. Steve gave you one more little peck as a parting gift. His head lent against yours again and he panted a little as if you had been kissing for far longer than you had. Your hand moved, pushing back his wind-swept hair that was batting against his cheek so you could press another kiss there. 

Your first kiss with Steve was quick and sweet. It had been over within a minute and you still needed to find your rhythm. Steve moved his arms to wrap around you, tugging you into his chest. He still couldn’t fight his grin, it was splitting his face in two. He smacked a kiss to the top of your head, swaying the two of you side to side to the music playing in his own head. 

Queue the cheesy love song, roll the ending credits. He finally had his girl. Only this was better than a John Hugh's movie because he got to kiss you again and again and again, long after the screen faded to black.

masterlist

[harrywavycurly]

Hi! I love soft sugar daddy Steve! I was wondering if I could request a text convo where the reader asks Steve to buy them something for the first time? Concert tickets maybe? I just need to see his reaction 🥹 I feel like he would be so happy to do this for you

Hiii babes!!! So this spoke to my soul because the way I’d let Steven Harrington buy all my concert tickets (I’m looking at you Ms. Swift) so I hope you enjoy this!💖

-find all things Sugar Daddy Steve here✨

*Steve just wants to get you things you like and also…he’s not totally sire if you’re in a relationship or not*

[oracleofapollon]

you love a lot of things in life, but you love waking up next to steve harrington more than anything else.

especially when it's a hot summer morning, stuffy air in your bedroom, a delicate wind making your curtains dance and sway.

and a golden light shining through the window straight on your boy laying next to you, still asleep, facing away from you.

he sleeps shirtless on days like these. the white covers are thrown on his legs, exposing the glowing skin of his back to you. it's tanned and looks so soft that you believe it could be pure velvet. tiny moles are splattered on his sun-kissed body, making him look like a canvas painted by a great artist, or like a sky at dusk, adorned by little stars shining through the clouds.

and his scars, reminders of one of the many fights he had to survive in the upside down. they're pink and healed, shiny on his sides, disappearing into the white of your sheets.

the sun makes him look like an angel. it suits him, you think. it melts between the strands of his chocolate hair, lighting up its strands, painting them golden blonde.

you can't help but brush your fingertips against him and you immediately feel a warmth radiating from him. his back is like if apollo himself shaped it and kissed it - warm, golden, delicate.

he stirs at your tickling, mumbles under his breath, but doesn't open his eyes. you think you may not have earned the right to see his honey eyes just yet.

and so you lean in to give his moles a kiss. one on his shoulder blade, another on this side, just above the pink scratch. one on his arm. one on his shoulder. and one on his hair...

he's all dreamy, he's what summer would be like as a person. he's daylight. he's the sun. he's honey and chocolate and sweetness, stars and scars and silk, he's laugh and desire and passion. and he's all yours.

[moonstruckme]

hi i lovelovelove your fics and i’m wondering if you are taking requests… if you could write a fic with steve and shy!reader who calls him a pet name or nickname for the first time ❤️

Thank you for requesting <3

Steve Harrington x shy!reader ♡ 710 words

Dew drops collect on your skin as you walk to Steve’s house. It’s a quiet morning, fog hanging in heavy clumps as birds call to each other through the haze. You hope Steve has coffee. 

You knock quietly. His footsteps banging down the stairs answer far louder. 

The door swings open to reveal your boyfriend with his toothbrush in his mouth, his hair all in disarray, and his clothes clearly only just thrown on. 

“Sorry,” he says in greeting, words garbled through a foam of toothpaste. “I thou I cou get ready in five min-us, bu—” Steve spits in the kitchen sink “—I couldn’t.” He gives you a sheepish smile. “You look really pretty.” 

Warmth kisses your cheeks. “Thanks, so do you,” you say earnestly. “I mean, you look nice. Your shirt’s on backwards, though.” 

Steve looks down at the tag poking up near his throat. “Oh, shit.” 

He rinses his mouth out with water from the tap, spitting again in the sink before setting his toothbrush down on the edge. When he pulls his arms inside to turn his shirt around, the process shows a sliver of abdomen that your eyes catch on before you drop them to the floor, flushing for real now. Steve combs his hair back with his fingers, walking around the counter to you.

“Hi,” he says, hand cupping the side of your neck as he gives you a spearmint-flavored kiss. “Coffee’s in the pot. Sorry I’m holding us up, I hope we don’t miss the sunrise because of me.” 

“That’s okay,” you say, though you hope you can still catch it. It’s all really just an excuse to spend time with Steve anyway. You move past him to the fridge, getting out the cream while he pours coffee into two thermoses to take with you. 

A piece of hair falls into his face as he looks down, and he swipes it back impatiently. It’s still pretty unruly from sleep; he clearly hasn’t had time this morning to give it the attention he likes to, and it warms your heart to think that he’d put that aside so you could get to go see the sunrise. It also makes you want to say to hell with the sunrise and comb your fingers through his hair until he’s happy with it. 

“I’m almost ready to go,” he swears. “I just had the worst sleep last night.” 

“Oh, really?” The areas under his eyes do look a little shadowy. The thought hooks your eyebrows upward. “I’m sorry, baby.” 

The word slips out of you so naturally, your voice bent and softened by sympathy, that for a moment you hope that Steve won’t notice. And for a moment, it seems like maybe he doesn’t. But then he sets the thermos down, dark brows twitching towards each other. He tilts his head to look at you. 

“Baby?” he asks, bordering on incredulous.

“Sorry,” you say automatically. You think your palms are sweating. 

“No, don’t be sorry.” Steve’s smile blooms slowly, better than any sunrise, and you can’t tell if he’s about to make fun of you. You think if he does you might have to cancel this whole thing. “It just surprised me. S’that something you wanna call me?” 

“I don’t know.” You can’t look at him. You use the coffee as an excuse, pulling your thermos toward you to start stirring in cream. When you’re done, you pass it over to Steve without glancing up. 

But he’s not having it. He sets the cream aside, slotting his fingers behind your ear with your cheek in the basin of his palm and tilting you towards him. He looks like he’s making fun of you, definitely.

Your heart hiccups.

“It just slipped out,” you confess. 

“Okay,” Steve laughs. “That’s okay, I liked it. Feel free to let it slip as many times as you want.” He slides his thumb along your skin, no doubt feeling its heat. His voice is sweet when he asks, “You about ready to go, baby?” 

You feel your forehead pinch painfully. “Don’t,” you plead. 

“I don’t know,” Steve says, though he lets you go to tend to his coffee, a small mercy. “I think you’ve really started something here. I could get used to this.”

[hellfirebabe666]

I Don't Love You Like I Did

Reader and ModernDay!Steve grow apart after being together for 2 years (Told for perspective of reader. No mention of gender or use of y/n) WARNINGS: Just angst overall WORD COUNT: 4.4k o.o

It started with minor things. We would text each other every morning a good morning greeting before discussing briefly how we were and what our days had ahead of us. Now his messages were short and scattered and sometimes unanswered, but I chalked it up to the fact that he was stressed with work and a recent new position he got into.

Then when we would go out on dates he stopped holding my hand unless I happened to slip my hand in his and even then it was different his grip loose and scarce and barely there. Lifeless. It was another stab in the heart, but we continued like normal. Speaking to each other like nothing was wrong.

But we both knew there was something terribly wrong. We were drifting far apart like ships passing in the night. When it had been several months since we were last intimate I felt like I did something wrong. Steve was usually the one who initiated a lot of intimate contact, but for some reason it started shifting and it was like he was on autopilot and his mind was elsewhere entirely and it scared me.

Steve came into my life at such a weird crossroads and he helped me come into my own and really build myself back up from such a dark place that still creeps in to the edges of my psyche but is better controlled and bay. But now the man that means the most to me is pulling away from me and I don't even think I have a way of stopping it.

I finally decide to bite the bullet and talk to him after we made plans to watch movies at his which was our go to stay in date night. I settled on the bed with him and laid my head on his chest to which he lightly rested on hand over my arm for some minor contact but he made no effort to wrap his arms around me like he used to. I felt like bursting into tears, but I had to put on a brave face. I had to speak.

"Steve?" I lift my head up and sit up to look at him. He eyes me curiously, "What's going on, sweetheart?" His eyes scan over my features noting the crease in my brow and how I gnaw at my lip trying to will the words out of my mouth to speak about how this whole situation has made me feel and finding out where we stood. "Is there..." I sigh trying to gather the words, "I just...I want to know if there was something that was bothering you, or something that I did to hurt you, you'd tell me right?"

Steve looked taken aback at first but I think he also saw this conversation coming along at some point. He sat up and moved to press his back against the headboard as he spoke, "Of course. And there's nothing you did wrong. And there's nothing bothering me I promise you." He tried to lie but he knew I could see right through it. He was easy to read especially when he lied.

"Please be honest with me, Steve. The last few months...I just," my voice begins to waver as tears form in my eyes, "I just want...to know if we're okay. Because you're not acting the same and it's scaring me. You barely even touch me, Steve." I say the last part in almost a whisper but he heard it and he knew it was true. And if he was honest with himself he really didn't have an explanation for it. It was nothing I really did or said. It was just people growing up and growing apart, at least that's how he saw it.

"Sweetheart...I-" He has a hard time looking at me his gaze flickering down to his hands as he spoke, "It's nothing you did. You've been an absolute angel, but I...just don't feel it anymore. I care for you I do, but I just..." and he trails off words caught in his throat and tears spring from my eyes streaking down my cheeks, "You don't love me anymore..." I whisper letting it settle in.

Steve's head hung as he watched me crumble in front of him and it broke his heart because he know he's the cause, but he needed to speak his true feelings. He couldn't keep me stuck in a relationship where he couldn't return the feelings I had. "I'm sorry, honey. I really am. I don't want to hurt you. I still care about you I do," He says as he tries to move closer to me and brush the tears from my eyes but I flinch away feeling myself shake as tears continue to pour from my eyes.

"I'm gonna go," I whisper standing up and grabbing my purse and the cardigan I had discarded on the side. Steve looked at me like a kicked puppy taking pure pity on me as I shuffled my way to the door. "Goodbye, Steve. I...I hope You can find someone who is worthy of your love," I say with a frown and make my way out the door and rushing to my car speeding away back to my apartment. My heart was shattered beyond repair.

[sundropflowerr]

STEVE HARRINGTON MASTERLIST ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

oneshots

Trace Your Constellations | After everything Hawkins put you through, you and Steve find yourselves on the roof of Family Video, stargazing and toeing the line between friends and something more. It’s quiet, it’s soft, and maybe—just maybe—he’s finally seeing the stars the way you do. 2k

Keep Me Warm? | When the weather turns cold, you and Steve love getting cozy together—warm sweaters, lots of laughter, and kisses that start sweet and fuzzy, and end breathless and hot. 2.9k

You, Me, and Our Tree | On a snowy December day, you and Steve curl up together to decorate a lopsided tree, laughter filling the air as you argue over the perfect placement for each ornament. It’s warm, it’s simple, and it feels like everything you wanted. 1.7k

[zombbean]

YCH for sale of everyone's dorky DnD nerd. Steve joins him in one of em.

If you wanna bid on it, head over to my Twitter: (Link)

[clownnhound]

Art Fight day 3!!

[vilentia]

Learning to Love Again

Steve Harrington x reader

Inspired by this post @forevermoreharrington

Steve had always been the life of the party. With his charming smile and quick wit, he could make anyone feel at ease. But behind that confident exterior, he was hiding a deep insecurity that he had never quite been able to shake.

Steve had always been a romantic at heart. He loved the idea of being in a relationship, of sharing his life with someone special. But every time he tried to get close to someone, it always seemed to backfire.

In his early relationships, Steve would try to be affectionate and attentive, showering his partner with compliments and gifts. But he quickly learned that not everyone appreciated his brand of romance. Some of his partners would pull away, telling him that he was being too intense or that he needed to give them space.

This rejection hurt Steve deeply. He couldn't understand why his efforts to show his love were being met with such resistance. As a result, he began to hold back, to keep his feelings to himself for fear of scaring his partner away.

But even that didn't work. His partners would accuse him of being distant, of not being emotionally available. Steve couldn't win. It seemed like no matter what he did, he always managed to push his partners away.

But then he met you.

From the moment you first smiled at him, Steve felt something shift inside of him. It was a small gesture, just a quick flash of teeth, but for Steve, it was like a bolt of lightning had struck him. He couldn't explain why, but he felt an instant connection to you. Maybe it was the way your eyes crinkled at the corners, or the way your hair fell in soft waves around your face. Whatever it was, Steve was hooked. It was as if all of his insecurities melted away in your presence. You were so warm and open, so eager to be close to him, that he couldn't help but be drawn to you.

At first, it was scary for Steve. In the early days of your relationship, Steve was almost overwhelmed by the sheer amount of affection you showed him. It was like a dam had burst, and suddenly he was being showered with love and attention in a way that he had never experienced before.

At first, he was a little unsure of how to respond. He would feel himself tense up when you reached for his hand or leaned in for a kiss. He wasn't used to this level of physical intimacy, and it took him some time to get comfortable with it.

But you were patient with him. You could tell that he was struggling, and you didn't want to push him too hard too fast. So you started small, with gentle touches and soft kisses. You let Steve set the pace, always waiting for him to take the lead. But as time went on, he began to relax into your touch, to let himself be vulnerable with you in a way that he never had before. He found himself craving your touch, yearning for the warmth of your body next to his. He loved the way you would run your fingers through his hair, tracing lazy patterns on his scalp. It was like all of the walls he had built up around himself were starting to crumble.

And then there were the kisses. Steve had never been much of a public display of affection kind of guy, but with you, he couldn't resist. He loved the way you would pull him in for a kiss in the middle of the street, not caring who saw you. It was like you were telling the world that he was yours, and he loved the possessiveness of it.

You would stay up late talking, laughing at each other's jokes and sharing stories about your lives. You would hold hands as you walked down the street, fingers intertwined in a way that felt like you were meant to be together.

And whenever Steve would start to feel that old familiar pang of insecurity, you were always there to reassure him. You would tell him how much you adored him, how much you loved being close to him, how you could never imagine being with anyone else.

It was one of those nights, lying in bed together, that you finally said the words that Steve had been waiting to hear.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice soft and sweet.

Steve's heart skipped a beat. He had wanted to say those words to you for so long, but he had been too afraid of scaring you away. Now, as he looked into your eyes, he knew that he had nothing to fear.

"I love you too," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I've loved you since the moment I met you, but I was too scared to say it. I didn't want to mess things up."

You reached out to stroke his hair, your fingers trailing softly over his scalp.

"You could never mess things up with me," you said, your voice filled with sincerity. "I'm here for you, always."

And as Steve held you close, he knew that he had finally found the person who could chase away his insecurities, who could make him feel loved and cherished in a way that he had never thought possible. With you by his side, he knew that he could face anything that life threw his way.