steve harrington imagines

"you're pregnant."

request: and if you could you should write about y/n telling steve that they're pregnant.

> @reiiignn
—

You sat on your bed, holding out the plastic tube with shaky hands as the two lines were sprawled across the monitor of the stick. Your heart was racing as you swallowed hard. You and Steve had only talked about kids once; you were both young and had no intention of starting a family already. When he loosely brought up the fact of having kids, you immediately shut him down by saying that you were too young. He was nearly 23, you were only 22. You could barely take care of yourself, let alone another child. For some reason, though, you were more excited than scared as you looked at the plastic stick held between your clammy hands.

"Y/N?"

Jumping up, you stood to your feet as you heard Steve's voice call from the kitchen. Your eyes darted to the time. 5:06. He must have just gotten home from work.

"In here," you called faintly as footsteps approached the room.

"Hey," he mumbled, pushing open the door slightly. Nervously, you stuffed the test underneath the pillow and looked up at him. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," you nodded unsurely. Suddenly, telling Steve was a lot harder than you'd think. "How was work?" Steve pulled you into a tight embrace and you breathed in the scent of his cologne.

"Good. Busy, but good. And how was home?" he rested his chin atop your head. He did this a lot, seeing as he had at least four inches on you.

"Good," you sighed and Steve pulled away.

"Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Mhm," you hummed a response as Steve's pupils dilated with concern.

"Y/N," he said skeptically. You sighed.

Reaching underneath the pillow, your hand grasped ahold of the item. Steve's eyes widened as you held it in your hand, sitting down on the bed behind both of you. Steve took a seat beside you. "You're pregnant," the statement came out as more of a question as you nodded nervously, biting your lip. Studying his eyes, you couldn't tell whether or not he was happy, sad, or angry. Or all of them. You drew a blank.

"Say something."

"Are you..." he trailed off and you shrugged, getting the hint. "So you're not sure?"

"I don't... know how I feel. Yet."

"Well, we haven't really talked about it," he nodded and you sighed. Steve took your hand, squeezing each finger once like he always did. It helped calm you down. "If you're happy, I'm happy."

"Okay," you nodded as you watched Steve's hand interlock with yours. "I... think I'm happy."

"Then I am, too."

"Steve, you don't have to be happy if I am," you sighed and he nodded, understanding. "Hell, this might be a false alarm. But I'm two weeks late and stopped taking the pills so I thought..." he squeezed your hand, shaking his head.

"Y/N, if you want this, I want this."

You breathed a sigh of relief as he tilted your chin towards him. "I love you," he said and you smiled. Steve pressed his lips to yours as you mumbled a response back.

"I love you, too."