Steve Harrington X Gn!reader - Blog Posts

ain't no sunshine — steve harrington

▸summary: steve just wants cuddles. and he'll play the song on repeat until he gets them.

▸characters: steve harrington x gn!reader

▸tw: tooth. rotting. FLUFF

▸a/n: i did not die. have some happy words.

HE MUST'VE HAD the song downloaded four-hundred times on his cassette tape, because you were just about ready to bash your head in when the beginning notes played from Steve's bedroom. 

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, it's not warm when she's away.

You were in the living room, finishing up some writings that you had due for your classes when you gazed unamused at the ceiling. He'd been playing the song on repeat, singing along badly in order to coax you into giving him some love and affection as you always did on a Tuesday afternoon. Unfortunately, this deadline was currently taking priority, and Steve was being a drama queen about it. 

You still had about four pages to write, as well as some questions to answer before anything else took over your mind, so you had to suffer. 

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, and she's always gone too long, anytime she goes away.

You'd practically memorised the words and melody to this song, mouthing them with good ol' Bill Withers as he provided sustenance to feed Steve's dramatics. You could hear Steve's faux grieving voice as he sang along, making the song a whole heap more dramatic than the original recording. 

Wonder this time where she's gone, wonder if she's gonna stay.

Trying to persevere through the loud stereo blasting muffled music above your head is a lot more difficult than you might imagine. Ever since you had gone to his place in a tizzy that you had things to do before a deadline and couldn't afford any distractions, you had banished him to his room, and for about an hour, had some quiet. 

That changed when the second hour became the third, and the music started when the sun began to go down, reeling on loop as though it was a broken record. 

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, and this house just ain't no home, any time she goes away.

You smiled slightly, though. For all of Steve's dramatics and ridiculous behaviours, he loved you, and you loved him. All of his quirks made him special to you, and you loved to be with him no matter what was happening around the world, especially when the whole Upside Down thing began catching up to him, mentally and physically. Now, he was a cuddly baby that loved hugging you. He always said that he felt safer to sleep in your arms. 

And I know, I know, I know, I know...

He must've given up on singing, because Steve's voice could no longer be heard. Probably ran out of oxygen. Good. He needed to rest after the whole Russian situation. You only had one page left to write and a few more questions to do before you could give your Steve what he needed so desperately. 

A hug. And a fat nap.

You sighed as the tape continued playing the bridge, scrawling your pencil over the paper. You had started with gorgeous cursive, and had evolved into writing chicken scratch to speed up the time. Two questions down, half a page to go...

Hey, I ought to leave the young thing alone, but ain't no sunshine when she's gone.

Three lines, two sentences, aaaaand...

Done.

Throwing the pencil down and thudding the book shut, you pushed yourself to a standing position, practically bounding up the stairs, dragging yourself up by the handrails. 

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness everyday.

You came to the first floor landing, stepping onto the carpeted floor with your socked feet and beelined for Steve's room. The door was shut, but Bill's soothing voice carried through the wood, almost getting impossibly loud as you inched closer. 

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, and this house just ain't no home, any time she goes away.

Stepping into the room as you swing open the door, the final outro of the song is echoing through, fading away. You smile to find Steve on his back, staring at the ceiling as he waits for the next loop to begin. 

You are silent as you halt the tape, crawling onto the bed and giving him a big ol' smooch. He looks at you with innocent and wide eyes, a big fat smile settling on his face. 

"All done?" he asks. 

You nod, confirming. "All done."

You yelp as he flings himself at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tumbling over the other side of the bed. He's quick to bring the covers over you both, leaving the bed side light on. A new habit, but it didn't bother you. 

You tussled for a little, finding a comfortable position that agreed with all parties and bones. You settled on bear hugging him as he tangled your legs together and kept his nose near your hair. 

You giggled, running your nails down his back. "You big baby." 

He grumbled. "Ain't no sunshine when you're not here."

fear — steve harrington

▸summary: you expect people to do die with honour, with bravery, with courage. you died with fear. steve can't know.

▸characters: steve harrington x gn!reader, eddie munson, dustin henderson

▸tw: angst. like, really bad. it's an issue.

▸a/n: i don't actually know what goes on inside my brain. for some reason, i just really like angst.

LOVE HURT.

IT was something that multiple people agreed upon. Steve Harrington was one of them. 

The whole party had some semblance of loss somewhere in their hearts, but Steve… 

It just seemed like something was gunning for him, sucking the happiness one loss at a time. 

Steve had never before known what love could’ve been until he met you. There was always something about you that never seemed to leave him alone. Whether it was that stupid grin, the stupid hair, the stupid arms, the stupid hugs, the stupid sappy words. Everything that Steve missed out on was being passed onto him like he was a reject shop, which was what he felt like. You gave him love, gave him hope, gave him life even. 

Then you died. 

When Dustin and Eddie came back through the portal without you, Steve freaked out. When Dustin couldn’t scream the words without them catching in his throat, Steve begged him to keep them there. When Dustin said he wasn’t strong enough to carry you and Eddie was on his way to collapse, Steve screamed that he was. He was strong. He could do it. He could, he promised he could. With tears in his eyes and dirt on his face and his hand on his chest, he promised he could carry you back. With his knees on the ground and his voice lost in the wind, he promised he could. 

So he ripped himself up like he wanted to rip his heart out of his body, ignoring the cries and begs of the people behind him. He had never moved faster in his life than when he was climbing into that portal, throwing open the caravan door, sprinting to the figure that lay in the dust. His voice returned as he screeched, flailing his arms to rid the area of any of the bats that might have smelled the meat, the fresh kill. There were no bats flying. They had all dropped a while ago. He knelt next to the person he had recklessly given everything to, shaking your shoulders and begging you to wake up. He didn’t stop asking the favour, even when he claimed it was too cold for you here, dragging you body upright into a standing position. He didn’t stop asking even when he began walking, praying that your legs would move the same way. They left tracks in the dirt as they dragged. He didn’t stop begging even when he screamed at Nancy to pull you through. She could feel the toll that death had taken on you. The loss of muscle, the eerie stillness. Yet, Steve still didn’t stop begging even when he said that you were safe now. 

Wake up now. You can’t sleep here. You have to wake up.

Your eyes were open. 

There was no such thing as peace at that moment. Nobody was blessed with the grieving silence. Steve wouldn’t let that happen. He didn’t want it to be silent, not when you loved to make noise. Not when you would laugh at his lame jokes. He couldn’t be silent in his efforts to somehow make you wake up. 

Eddie sat on the ground, his back propped up against the wall. He stared straight ahead, his facial expression not changing even as there was a tear. Nancy and Robin didn’t even try forcing their faces still. They twisted and sobbed and cried no matter how hard they tried to stifle it. They didn’t want to add to Steve’s pain. Dustin was in worse shape. He didn’t know what to do. Does he hug Steve? Does he leave him alone? Does he cry? Does he stay strong? What does he do? So, he stands there. He stands there, and he cries, and Steve doesn’t see. He can’t see. The blurriness of his vision paired with the agonising pain in his brain and his heart just makes it so that he doesn’t see anything. He can’t even remember how they got your body to the hospital. 

Telling your parents sucked. Steve couldn’t actually do it. He stood at one of the tables, folding clothes for the people packed in the stadium, the ones that had their houses crushed in the ‘earthquake’. He stood there, and he looked horrible. He was pale. He had bags under his eyes. He was thin. His eyes were red and his nose was raw. He couldn’t even talk properly. His hands shook. His knees trembled when your parents walked over. 

Dustin had spoken to them. Told them how you died. Or, how you ‘died’. You were caught saving him and Eddie in the ‘earthquake’, and you had died. He chose to keep the fact that you had stood alone, surrounded by a swarm of bats after pushing Eddie out of the fray into Dustin’s arms. 

The funny thing was, you didn’t die from the wounds from the bats. You didn’t even sustain many. Sure, you had enough that it would’ve put you in serious danger, but it wasn’t the wounds that killed you. Dustin may have been a little delirious, but he didn’t imagine you clutching your chest and dropping like a sack of potatoes. He didn’t imagine the jerk your body made as you breath caught. He didn’t imagine you dying standing up. He may not have been a doctor, but he wasn’t stupid. He was a nerd, and nerds read. 

You had a heart attack. The fear had actually killed you. You had been scared to death. 

That wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was when the bats began to swan dive straight onto you. That was the worst part. That was the part that got Dustin screaming himself awake at night. That was the part that pushed Dustin to drag Eddie away, away from you. You didn’t feel it, at least. Steve didn’t even know how you died. Dustin knew that if Steve knew, he’d actually go mental. So, he and Eddie swore never to tell anyone else. Not family, not the party, no-one. 

So when your mother came walking over to the Harrington boy, tears collecting in her eyes as she stretched her arms out, his knees finally gave out. He collapsed in her arms, filling her ears with never ending apologies. She shushed him, sobbing. Soon, your father joined the hug, and the three of them cried over your heroic sacrifice. 

Meanwhile, Dustin and Eddie looked on from opposite sides. They exchanged glances, and went back to their own work. They never had to know that your death was so out of place, that you died with that much fear. They never had to know that you had cried that you didn’t want to be there. They didn’t have to know that you had asked Eddie to take you home. They never had to know that you asked Dustin for one more hug. 

Love hurt, but they didn’t have to know how much worse it could get. 

They kept their mouths shut.

SO SWEET

could you pleaseee do more Luna Lovegood!reader x Steve harrington. I loved the last blub you did ♡

~ k

for you, bug watch. tysm baby!! ♡ gn!reader

"Hey," Steve says quietly, worried about scaring you.

You don't jump, you don't move. You stay sitting on the grass outside of his house, face half an inch from the floor. Your shoes and your backpack are discarded in the middle of his driveway, your backpack's zipper undone and contents spilling over the stone unceremoniously. 

"Steve," you whisper. 

"Is everything okay?" he asks, though he's used to this by now. 

You hold out your hand without looking at him. When he takes it, you tug his arm until he gets the memo and sits down beside you. 

"I think I just saw a scarab beetle." 

"Yeah? What's that?" he asks gently. 

"They're rainbow, 'nd shiny." 

He angles his face low as yours is and looks around for it, wondering if scarab beetles live in Indiana, and if they do, will you ever be able to find it again? You must spend five minutes or longer searching blades of grass when Steve gives up and goes to put your things back in your backpack. You've brought each part of your meticulous night routine, a stark difference from last Friday where you'd only brought your toothbrush and a bracelet you'd made him. He wonders if you'll ask him to do face masks again. 

"How about we leave it to its Friday night and get on with ours, huh? We'll come look for it again tomorrow," he promises. 

"I think they only come out at night," you say. You're morose. 

"Then… how about we go have dinner, and then we'll come back out and look again?" He can tell you're genuinely disappointed to have lost the bug and he'd do anything to make you smile, even if it means he spends the night on his knees in damp grass. 

You stand up and almost fall into his side, arm wrapping around his back and smelling like grass and earth. You speak softly but with clarity. "I really think I saw one. I tried to be quiet, but… they have wings, I think. It might've flown away. I even took off my shoes."

Said shoes dangle from his hand. When you see them, you smile. "Thanks, baby," you say.

Steve shepherds you inside. "Yeah, you're welcome." 

"Do you have a magnifying glass?" 

He thinks about it. Probably not. "I'll look." 

He's rewarded with a chaste kiss.