jess

“Funny,” Steve murmurs, zero amusement in his eyes as he looks back at you, his fingers curling into your jacket like he was trying to ground himself. “But I’m serious, if you fall I—”

“—Steve,” you interrupted him before he could let the thought in, your hand reaching for his in an attempt to reassure him with skin against skin. “It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna be—”

“No, no, no, guys—it’s not lining up.”

Your blood turns cold at those words. A horrible sense of foreboding creeps in. 

“What do you mean it’s not lining up?” Steve asks Lucas in a slightly panicked voice while you look up at the tower needle, at the rocky surface of the abyss above that was coming down. Your eyes focused on deep rifts that were emitting an eerie red glow that did not align with the needle.

“Look! The tower needle. It’s not lining up with the rift.”

“Shit!” Steve exclaims, his hand in yours tightening, his fear palpable as the abyss moved ever closer. 

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn’t concentrate on anything other than Steve’s hand in yours and trying to ignore that feeling deep in your gut that felt an awful lot like dread.

Because that if the abyss hit that needle—the tower was going right down with it.

Everything moved quickly after that. Dustin was frantic as he yelled down his walkie at Hopper. The others around you scramble to hold onto something, anything and Steve drops your hand so that he could grab you around the waist, pulling you against him as you all braced for impact.

You look up at him, seeing the fear in his eyes. “Steve, I love—”

“—don’t you dare say that, baby. Don’t you—”

“Watch out!”

The moment that the tower needle crashes into the rocky surface of the abyss, the whole tower moves.

The platform beneath you shakes violently. Everything feels uneven. Figures move around you as the others stumble, as they cling onto the railing like it was their very last hope.

And Steve—he slips backwards, letting you go so that he doesn’t pull you with him.

“Steve!” You cry out, your hand frantically trying to reach his but to no avail. He stumbles back before smacking into the railing on the other side of the platform.

You don’t think—your grip slips from the metal railing as you go to rush after him, to save him but—

The sound of metal groaning above you makes everyone look up. 

You felt as though you were frozen as you watched the needle bend—the sound seeming to reverberate through you. Shrill. Piercing.

You barely have time to comprehend what was about to happen before the needle finally snaps.

“Look out! Look out! Look out!”

You knew it was Steve’s voice but in your panic, you couldn’t think of anything else besides getting to the man that you loved.

Someone screams out your name. Once, twice. You were sure that it was Dustin. You were sure he was yelling at you to stop. That it was too late. But as the needle falls, as it crashes onto the railing besides Steve—everything else ceases to exist.

Because the railing snaps off and Steve stumbles back.

Your world tilts—everything feels as though it was moving in slow motion as you try to reach for Steve’s hand. There was a moment when your fingers brushed against his. When your skin touched his and for that moment—you almost believed that everything would be okay. But your hands were too clammy to hold on to him and he slipped right through your fingertips.

“Steve!” You cry out, your voice breaking along with everything else inside of you as you watch Steve Harrington—the man you loved, the guy who had only hours earlier promised that he’d marry you the second all of this was over—tumbles over the edge of the platform.

A sense of numbness swept over you. A numbness that creeps down to the tips of your fingers. A numbness that makes it hard to comprehend what had just happened. Because Steve Harrington could not be dead.

You move without really thinking. Someone yells your name again as you look over the edge, expecting to see Steve—expecting to see him hanging from the platform with one hand. But you only see darkness below. 

The moment you realise that no one—not even Steve Harrington—could survive that fall was the moment that the truth finally hits you—brutal and absolute.

Steve Harrington was dead and there was nothing you could do.

A scream rips from your throat, one that pulls at your vocal chords. One that feeds on the agony of seeing the love of your life being claimed by gravity. You barely feel the tears spilling down your cheeks, barely feel the hands that were grabbing you, pulling you away from the edge to stop you from joining Steve in death. 

You hear your name being called frantically and in your grief, it almost sounds like Steve. But you knew it wasn’t because he was dead. He had plummeted to the ground and he was dead. His body lay broken on the ground five hundred feet beneath you, his bones smashed to pieces, his skull caved in from the impact of the fall. The heart you had once fallen asleep listening to no longer beating and those big, hazel eyes of his unseeing.

It didn’t feel real.

It wasn’t real. 

It couldn’t be real—

You jolt, your body trembling as you wake. You felt cold. Everything felt cold. Your hands shook violently and a violent sob ripped through your body before you could stop it. The image of Steve falling replaying over and over again in your head—

“Baby, baby, baby—please—.”

You don’t even register the fact you had been thrashing violently in Steve’s arms until you heard his voice. Until his arms tightened around you, until he had grabbed your wrist to stop you from hurting him or yourself.

Steve.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

But he couldn’t be.

You had watched him fall over the platform edge. You had seen the sheer terror in his eyes right before he had fallen. The fear. The panic. The realisation that he was going to fall five hundred feet to his death. The realisation that he was leaving you behind, that the future you had planned together would never come to fruition.

“Y-you’re n-not re-real,” you cry out, your sobs that are so heavy that they shook your entire body. “Y-you’re de-dead—”

“—baby, I’m not dead,” Steve tells you, his voice breaking as he holds you, his arms around your waist tightening as he pulls you back against him, trying desperately to ground you. “Listen to my voice, I’m not—”

“—b-but I-I saw—”

“—I know baby,” Steve murmurs, pressing his lips to your temple as he pulls you close as though trying to fuse the two of you together. “I know what you saw and it’s not real, okay? I’m real. I’m here. I’m alive. Please believe me, please—”

But it was difficult to tell what was real and what was not when everything around you felt blurry, when your body felt as though it was still up on the platform watching him fall. You felt cold, you couldn’t stop shaking and despite knowing deep down it was just a dream—that Steve had never fallen from the radio station, that he had been pulled to safety by Jonathan—the grief you had felt was still all consuming. You felt it in every bone, every nerve, every cell in your body and all your boyfriend could do was hold you while you cried. 

It wasn’t the first time you had a nightmare about him falling from the tower and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

“I got you,” Steve tells you. His own voice cracking as he struggles to control his own emotions at the sight of your distress before gently manoeuvring your body so that you could face him. “I got you, baby. I always got you, okay?”

It was when your eyes finally met his and you saw life in them—saw none of the terror and panic that you had seen right before he had fallen—that you started to focus back on reality.

Steve. Beside you. In bed. Warm.

Steve. Alive. Holding you. 

Steve. Alive.

“S-Steve?” You murmur out, your breathing uneven as your fingers unclench before they reach for him—for the coarse hair that covers his chest. Your fingers slide through the hair there so that you could feel his heart beating beneath your palm.

“Yeah. I’m here, baby,” he tells you in a thick voice, his arms like a vine around your waist as he pulls you flush against him. “Not going anyway. Okay?”

You nod, small sniffles escaping you now as you lean forward to bury your head into his chest. The thump, thump, thump of his heartbeat against your eardrum—the reminder that he was still here, that he was still alive—making the panic that had built up inside of you settle. It didn’t leave, the anxiety of losing Steve never truly left but it settled. Because he was here. He was alive.

“I’m sorry i-if I w-woke you up,” you say quietly, dreading to think of what you had done, what you had said whilst you had been dreaming. If you had screamed, if you had yelled out in terror as Steve had fallen from view—

“Don’t apologise,” Steve tells with a small shake of his head. “Please don’t—”

“—I just—y-you can tell m-me if it’s to-too much.”

There was a moment of silence and then—

“Sweet girl, you could never be too much,” he tells you in a voice that was somehow both firm and gentle. “I promise you. Never.”

You nod, blinking away the tears that still lingered before you look back at him.

“I just—I-I love you so fucking much and—almost losing you it—it—it just—”

“—hey, hey, hey,” Steve soothes you so lovingly and gently that you could burst. “I love you too, baby. But you didn’t lose me, yeah? Not going to leave my girl when I still need to put a ring on her finger.”

That pulls another laugh out of you and Steve’s beams at the sound of it.

“There she is,” he hums, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. “My love. My light. My future wife.”

Your face burns but you can’t help but feel warm inside at his words.

“Sap,” you murmur, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you look at him.

“I’m your sap,” he tells you, one his hands cradling the back of your head gently while the other rubs up and down your back—a motion that acts as a soothing balm to the deep ache in your chest. “And I’m here for as long as you want me.”

You let out a small laugh despite everything and Steve feels something tightening in his chest at the sound as you pull away enough to look up at him with eyes that were still glassy with tears.

“Is forever okay?” You ask him in a voice so quiet that Steve had to lean in to hear.

Steve smiles faintly, lifting one large hand to wipe away the tears that had spilled down your cheeks with his thumb. “Forever is more than okay,” he tells you sincerely before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours. You melt into it. His lips against yours yet another remainder that he was alive. That he was real.

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steve is cut off by dustin with an offended sigh. “no on convinced her anything, she volunteered! she wanted to be the bait!”

your boyfriend grits his teeth, shaking his head with distain.

yeah, because you’d rather volunteer to be bait than let any of the younger kids do it. no one actually wants to be fucking bait.

“why, why, why…” steve whispers, mostly to himself as he stares at your frazzled eyes. you’re scared—no—petrified.

there’s the familiar sound of something inhuman lurking around the woods, but you can’t quite see it. you can only sense it with a trickling fear cascading over your body like a second skin.

nancy stands beside steve, gun aimed and controlled as they stare at you from a distance. he swallows thickly as she adjusts the direction of the barrel.

he hates how close a bullet is gonna be to you.

he hates how close death is gonna be to you.

focus, he reminds himself. eyes treading into the abyss of you quivering on sunken dirt, he grits his teeth and sighs.

nothing about this makes him feel okay at all. he hates this—he’s scared, he’s angry, and god—he’s so so so sad. sad that this is your lives. this is 'normal' somehow.

a breeze of wind makes everyone shift on their feet—including nancy. once the breeze calms down, steve finally tries to let out another breath.

but as soon as his lips part, they smack back together while a gun shot rings through the air.

once.

twice.

and so. many. more. times.

the disgusting sound of mutant creatures scratching drowns in the somber air.

it’s silent.

too silent.

he can’t bring himself to look up at where you’re supposed to be standing. he’s scared you won’t be standing—he’s horrified you might be torn apart in pieces.

“steve.”

nancy’s voice pulls him back to reality. she offers a sympathetic smile before nudging her head in your direction.

and he looks.

“sweetheart?” his voice shakes, his hands trembling as he sees you staring at the new corpse laid by your feet.

god, he knows that look. he’s lived that look.

it’s so confusing. to fight for your life and see the true gore of it. and selfishly, seeing someone or something die reminds you of how easy it really is to lose a fight.

“hey…” steve whispers, voice barely a whisper as he approaches you slowly. his face scrunches as you wince from his arm wrapping around your shoulders. he almost excepts you to shrug him off…but you don’t.

you can’t.

“is it really…dead?”

oh.

his heart lurches in his chest. you sound so…wounded.

so broken.

this is why he never let you even attempt to help with these things. because he can’t watch the person he loves the most get sucked into this terrible shit too.

he can’t watch you live in survival mode because he knows what that does to a person.

“hey…” he swivels you around, hiding your face in his neck. “-don’t think about that right now, okay? just…breathe.”

you let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. steve holds you a bit tighter as the tension leaves your shoulders, biting back the anger as his worries push forward.

“are you okay? are you hurt at all?” he swallows loudly while pulling you closer into his embrace.

“no, no…i…i’m okay. just, um, i…it’s…”

“it’s a lot. i know. trust me,” he places a kiss on your head, cradling your hair in his palm, “-i know. i’m here for you, whatever you need, just…just please—don’t do that again.”

you sigh against him. “i’m sorry, i just…couldn’t sit back and watch a kid do this, steve. it’s just…it’s not right.”

unfortunately, he understands. he gets it all too well.

“i get that, sweetheart, but…don’t be a hero.”

“steve—“

“i’m serious,” he pulls away, just enough to look you in the face to truly emphasize his point, “-don’t be a hero. i can take care of the kids, but i—i don’t think i can do anything if i don’t have you at the end of the day.”

you nod, too emotional to respond with words. steve sighs with relief from your acknowledgment, holding you back into a tight hug.

a lump gathers in his throat as he squeezes the same phrase out again—

“god, i...don’t…don’t do that again, baby. Please, just—just—don’t be a hero.”

paige’s notes . . . womp womp. im emotional and putting it into my writting...what's new lol. um…i’m sorry if this isn’t as detailed. i just had an idea & really needed to write it asap lol.

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comment to be added to my steve/joe taglist!

“Okay okay, I’m leaving!” You panted, straightening up to grab your bag.

His lips tugged into a smile, “finally.” He said, though it was a lie—Steve knew he wished for you to be around him constantly, living in your own bubble, separated from the rest of the world to have you all to himself.

You rolled your eyes at him, pretending like his words stung more than they had.

“You know I’m only kidding, I’m gonna miss you, sweetheart.” He leaned over to press a kiss against the side of your forehead, you tried your best not to melt instantly.

“I’m gonna miss you too, Steve.” You offered him a quick smile, a real wide one.

“Bye, sweetheart.” He called out from behind you.

Just as you were about to step out of the front door you responded loudly. “Bye, love you—”

The words had left your mouth before you could take them back, your heart dropping into your stomach when your mind had caught up to reality.

Oh, no, no. Your eyes widened as the realization hit you. You couldn’t hear Steve’s movements because he had completely froze behind you, you very slowly turned around despite all the odds shouting at you to run away.

You stared at Steve in horror, and he forced himself to take a deep breath. “…what?”

“Oh. My. God.” You sucked in a sharp breath, beginning to feel yourself hyperventilating, as heat rushed to your face, internally begging for the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

Steve’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline, his mouth gaping at you. You slammed your hands over your face, “I-I’m sorry—I didn’t mean—”

Steve blinked at you, his mind still caught up with you declaring your love for him in the most natural way possible. “Sweetheart.”

“I’ll take it back—”

“Don’t take it back.” He cut you off suddenly, his voice firm and unhesitating. You made the mistake of taking a peek at him, to find that his expression had fully flipped.

There was still a hint of shock in there, but also something softer had taken its place. His arms were dangling by his sides, like he wanted to reach for you but was still nervous, his head tilted at an awkward angle.

Your heart immediately started beating faster, gaze flickering all around the room. “Look, I know we haven’t been together for long, and I wasn’t planning on saying it like that—but I did and now I sound insane—”

“You love me?” Your rambling came to a halt, Steve’s voice had dipped quieter than before.

You stared at him for a moment, unable to identify what was going through his head. “If you want me to?”

His mouth twitched, but you noticed that tears had also begun to shine through his eyes. “If I want you to?” He repeated in disbelief.

“Okay—maybe I do sound insane.” You replied, returning to hide your face once again.

Then suddenly, his hands were gently pulling yours away gently. “You’re not insane, I’m the one that didn’t wanna freak you out.” He shook his head, you could spot the rawness in his expression.

“What?” You asked confusingly, it felt like things were moving at a thousand miles per hour.

“You know how hard it is for me to stop myself from saying I love you every goddamn day?” Steve huffed, his hands still locked around your wrists. “I tried waiting it off as long as I could, to not scare you—then you just randomly said it, and it just…it reminded me of how sure I was. How every time I looked at you, I already knew.”

Your breath hitched, feeling every ounce of sincerity settle into your bones. Steve didn’t need a rehearsed speech, his love had always been there from the beginning. Your eyes stung, feeling overcome with emotion.

“Hey—baby, don't cry.” He instantly wrapped his arms around you, thumbing away at your tears that cascaded down your cheeks.

“Sorry,” your voice came out broken, he lifted your chin to look you deep in your eyes.

“Don’t apologize, I love you.” You don’t think those words could ever sound as magical from anyone else, saying them like he was relieved he could finally tell you.

A smile spread across your face, “I love you too.”

Steve grinned brightly in response, the kind that made you fall for him all over again. “I’ll never get tired of hearing that.” He pulled you closer to repeat the words against your face, punctuating them with several kisses.

You only notice Steve approaching you, a determined look on his face, when he’s right at your side. He tugs on your wrist, the word you were half way saying, dies on your tongue. The poor guy you were laughing with looks like someone just stole the last cookie out the jar before him and you laugh a little sorry to him as Steve pulls you through the herd of people.

“Steve, what are you doing?” You call to him over the loud voices and thumping bass of the music.

He doesn’t answer, just pulls you into the bathroom and presses you up against the door to close it. His mouth magnetises to yours like you were the North Pole to his South. He’s all teeth and tongue, it makes you worried he might hurt himself.

“Steve,” you say against his mouth.

He simply replies with a grunt, his hands moving to squeeze your hips as he slots himself between your thighs, his hardening cock grinds roughly against the thin fabric of your skirt.

“Hey.” You grab his face between your hands and push his face off yours. “Talk to me.”

“I think you’ve done enough talking,” he says. His voice is low, gravely, and oh so breathless.

“Oh,” you laugh and it makes Steve’s eyes darken. “You’re jealous.”

“Of that guy? Please,” he scoffs.

His denial is almost pathetic, you know what he gets like, this isn’t a new occurrence.

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I go back and finish that conversation,” you tease.

Something dark in you likes the way Steve possessively squeezes you tighter.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

His mouth is back on you, this time it nips at the skin of your neck to deliberately mark you as his. You move your hands into his hair and wrap your legs around his to pull him tighter against you.

Suddenly he’s off you and now you're the one left gawking at him. He takes a few steps back, his eyes fixed on yours and they draw you to him without you even being aware of the movement in your legs. You reach your hands up to his face again but he bats them away and spins you around so your back is pressed against his chest. You become very aware that Steve never locked the God damn door.

One of his hands is pressed against your tummy, the other travels between your thighs and your breath hitches when he reaches beneath the hem.

“Steve…” you breathe out, half a moan, half a warning.

Steve chuckles behind you, his breath hot and wet in your ear. “You think anyone could make you feel as good as I can?”

You shake your head and gasp when you feel his fingers press against the seam of your pussy through your underwear.

“I didn’t hear you.” He starts rubbing where your wetness is quickly gathering.

“No,” you whine as the pressure builds between your legs, his fingers grazing your now throbbing clit.

“No, what?”

“Ugh, no one can make me feel like you do.”

“That’s right, baby.”

He places a kiss sweetly to your ear, the contrast between it and his rough voice makes the tiles on the wall look like they’re spinning. Steve then reaches his fingers into your panties and quickly makes contact with your aching bundle of nerves. You bite down on your lip to hold back a moan and that man tutts at you.

“I wanna hear you, I want everyone to hear you.”

You keep a tight bite on your lip as Steve’s fingers work at a frantic pace circling your clit. A forceful exhale leaves your throat – you didn’t even realise you were holding your breath – and as it does Steve gets exactly what he wants.

“Ugh fuck, Steve…”

“They’re you go, baby.”

Now he’s gotten the satisfaction of your whining his name, his movement slow and you catch your breath just a little. But Steve doesn’t give you time to compose yourself, his slick fingers reach lower to inch into your hole.

“Christ, you’re so wet,” he groans, seeming like he loses just a touch of his bravado. “You get all wet talking to that guy, huh?” Steve’s bravado is back as he reaches all the way down to the knuckle of his two middle fingers. Not thrusting them, just holding them inside you.

“N–no,” you stammer. “All you.”

You turn your head back to get a look at Steve’s face and the smirk spread across it is enough to make you whimper – that and the fact that he curls his fingers into that sweet spot he can find in an instant.

His other hand quickly comes up to your jaw and turns your face back towards the door.

“Need him to see the look on your face if he walks in here,” Steve whispers in your ear and he feels you clench hard around his fingers and start to grind into his hand for more friction.

It makes him chuckle again that you seem to like the idea. That you want everyone to know who makes your face flush and your knees buckle, just as much as he does.

“Fuck, Steve,” you moan.

“That’s it baby, say my name so everyone knows how good I get you off.”

Then his fingers are dragging through your tightening walls, his thumb working you clit mercilessly.

“C’mon, say it again,” he commands.

“Steve…” his name sounds more like a breath than a word.

“Louder.”

“Steve.” It’s more pronounced this time.

Your heart skips a beat when you see the shadow of footsteps pass underneath the door.

“Louder,” Steve insists. “The music’s loud, baby, they’re not gonna hear that.”

You feel so close to the edge when you hear a laugh right on the other side of the door you reach behind you to hold the back of Steve’s waist for some kind of stability.

“Oh–ugh–Steve! I’m gonna come,” you shout. Your voice sounds wrecked and you’re sure whoever is on the other side of that unlocked door can hear you. But you don’t care, not when the feeling of Steve’s body against you. – his fingers inside you – is this good.

“Yeah, that’s my girl, come for me, let everyone know who’s making you come so fucking good.”

One more scream of his name and you're coming around his fingers. The party is raging on the other side of the door but all that matters to you is Steve. And now he’s peppering you with soft kisses to bring you down from your high. His previously rough hands, now gentle and soothing.

He helps straighten up your skirt and spins you around to face him. You’re too dazed to kiss him back when he presses his lips to yours but he smiles against you like he’s proud of himself.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he says and it makes you a little confused.

Before you can question him, he’s leading you out the door, giving your ass a smack as your still shaking hand reaches for the nob.

You close the door behind you as you leave and you walk straight into the guy you had been talking to earlier. You simply give him a tight lipped smile as you brush past him.

The guy walks into the bathroom and is met with Steve washing his hands.

Steve turns to him as he grabs the hand towel. “Oh, hey man. Sorry, must have forgotten to lock the door,” he says casually.

Steve takes notice of the look on the guy's face as obviously puts two and two together.

On his way out the bathroom, Steve pats the guy on the shoulder and says, “It’s all yours.”

Which is why he's standing at the bar with a glass of Coke in one hand when he glances across the room and finds you in animated conversation with a woman at least twenty years older than you, gesturing enthusiastically enough that half your drink is in immediate danger of sloshing onto the floor.

"How bad?" Robin asks, appearing beside him.

Steve watches you pull out your phone.

The woman leans closer.

A second later she starts laughing.

Steve closes his eyes.

"Medium."

Robin follows his gaze. "What is she showing her?"

"I have a horrible feeling I already know."

When you eventually make your way back over, looking deeply pleased with yourself, Steve immediately shifts closer, one hand settling automatically against the small of your back as you slot yourself into the space beside him.

"What were you showing her?"

You blink up at him.

"A picture of you."

Robin nearly inhales her drink.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Of course it was."

You look genuinely confused by his reaction.

"What?"

"Why do you have to show strangers pictures of me?"

"Because you looked nice."

"I was sitting on the sofa."

"You looked really nice."

"As opposed to all the times I look terrible?"

You consider this seriously for a moment.

"I don't think that's happened yet."

Robin makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a wheeze and has to physically turn away from both of you.

Steve, meanwhile, is discovering that there are few things more embarrassing than being adored by someone who has completely lost the ability to keep those thoughts to themselves.

And it doesn't stop there.

If anything, it gets worse.

Steve returns from ordering another round and immediately knows something is wrong when he finds Robin doubled over against the dartboard cabinet, laughing so hard she can barely breathe.

The source of her amusement becomes obvious approximately two seconds later.

You're standing with two girls near the pool table, phone in hand once again.

One of them spots Steve approaching and immediately points.

"Oh my God."

The second one turns.

Her eyes widen.

"That's him."

Steve stops walking.

"No."

The first girl laughs. "That is absolutely him."

"Baby."

You look delighted.

"Steve!"

"What have you done?"

"What?"

The sheer innocence in your voice would almost be convincing if Steve hadn't been dating you long enough to recognise exactly what it sounded like when you were pretending not to know the answer.

"What did you tell them?"

You shrug.

"We were talking."

"About?"

You point at him.

"My boyfriend."

The girls immediately dissolve into laughter.

Steve briefly considers walking directly into traffic.

"Honey."

"What?"

"How many photos did you show them?"

The girls exchange a look.

"Fourteen."

"FOURTEEN?"

"In my defence," you say seriously, "they were all different."

Robin lets out a strangled noise.

"Different?"

"Different situations."

Steve stares at you.

You stare back.

Completely sincere.

"Some of them were from summer."

As though that somehow improves matters.

The worst part is that the girls aren't laughing at him.

They're laughing because it's obvious how much you adore him.

They're laughing because they've clearly spent the last ten minutes listening to you enthusiastically describe your boyfriend like he's simultaneously a movie star, a rescue puppy, and the eighth wonder of the world.

One of them grins.

"Honestly, it's kind of sweet."

"Thank you," you say immediately.

"Stop encouraging her."

"No," says the other girl. "For what it's worth, she's very convincing."

Steve drops his head into his hands.

Robin is crying with laughter.

And somehow the entire situation becomes even more mortifying when he realises that neither of the girls seem remotely surprised by the fact he's standing there. They've clearly heard enough stories over the last ten minutes to feel as though they already know him.

Which is arguably worse.

By the time Steve manages to extract you from introducing him to complete strangers, the pub has grown warmer and louder, the evening crowd settling in around them while conversations overlap into a constant low hum.

You eventually migrate outside, escaping the heat and noise in favour of a small patio strung with fairy lights and crowded with battered wooden tables.

You immediately kick your shoes halfway off and tuck your legs beneath yourself.

Steve sits beside you without thinking.

Within seconds you're leaning against him, naturally, as though gravity has finally remembered where you're supposed to be. The familiar weight of you settles against his side. His arm finds your shoulders. Your fingers drift absent-mindedly towards his hand.

Neither of you acknowledge it. It's simply what happens.

"You having fun?" he asks.

You hum.

"Mhm."

"You've definitely had enough to drink."

"Says who?"

"Says the person who's spent the evening running an unsolicited public relations campaign on my behalf."

Your grin appears immediately.

"There it is."

Steve sighs.

"There what is?"

"The thing."

"What thing?"

You poke his cheek.

The absolute audacity of it.

Steve catches your hand before you can do it again.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"I really don't."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You absolutely do."

The smile pulling at the corner of his mouth gives him away.

You make a triumphant noise.

"There."

"There what?"

"That."

"What?"

"That thing."

Steve turns away.

Which only makes you laugh harder.

For a few moments neither of you say anything.

Music drifts through the open door behind you. Somebody drops a glass inside. A burst of laughter follows.

The night air feels pleasantly cool against his skin after the heat of the pub.

When you speak again, your voice is softer.

Honest in the way drunk people sometimes become when every protective instinct and social filter quietly falls away.

"You don't see what everybody else sees."

Steve glances down.

"What does that mean?"

You trace absent-minded circles across the back of his hand.

"It means you think people love you because you're helpful."

Something shifts in Steve's chest.

Small. Uncomfortable. Familiar.

You continue before he can answer.

"You think people love you because you drive them places."

You squeeze his fingers.

"Or because you fix things."

Another squeeze.

"Or because you look after everyone."

Steve looks away.

The thing about being known is that sometimes people stumble directly into places you've spent years carefully avoiding.

You don't seem to notice.

Or maybe you do.

Maybe that's the problem.

"But that's not why."

Steve swallows.

"No?"

You shake your head.

The answer arrives with complete certainty.

"No."

"Then why?"

You look at him as though he's asked the most ridiculous question imaginable.

"Because you're Steve."

That's it.

No grand speech. No dramatic declaration.

Just four simple words delivered with complete confidence.

As though the answer should have been obvious all along.

As though being Steve is reason enough.

As though it always was.

Robin finds you both twenty minutes later.

One look at the two of you sharing a basket of chips and she immediately narrows her eyes.

"Oh no."

Steve sighs.

"What now?"

"Why do you both look emotional?"

"We don't."

"You do."

"We're eating chips."

"You look like somebody confessed their love before boarding a train in a period drama."

Steve points a chip at her.

"This is why nobody tells you things."

Robin steals it.

"You cried, didn't you?"

"I did not."

"You cried a little bit."

"I didn't."

"You absolutely cried a little bit."

Before Steve can defend himself, you suddenly lift your head from his shoulder.

"Robin."

Robin immediately braces herself.

"What?"

You point at Steve.

"He's really pretty."

Robin folds in half.

Steve groans.

"No, seriously."

"We know."

"You don't."

Robin wipes tears from her eyes.

"I promise you, sweetheart, we do."

You shake your head.

The frustration in your expression suggests neither of them are taking this nearly seriously enough.

"Look at him!"

Robin obediently looks.

Then looks at you.

Then back at Steve.

"Yep."

You throw your hands up.

"His hair!"

"His hair."

"His eyes!"

"His eyes."

"The fact he's nice to old people!"

Steve nearly chokes.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It matters."

"It absolutely matters," Robin says.

"Thank you."

"Stop helping."

"No."

Robin's grin is positively evil now.

"You know what the best part is?"

Steve already hates this conversation.

"What?"

Robin points towards you.

"She's not saying any of this because she's drunk."

"Excuse me?"

Robin ignores him.

"She's saying it because she's been thinking it for years and alcohol just removed the quality control department."

The look on your face confirms it instantly.

"Oh."

Steve stares.

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

Robin laughs.

"Oh, buddy."

Steve immediately decides he never wants to speak to either of you again.

By midnight the evening has begun winding down.

The pub is quieter now, conversations fading as people drift home in pairs and groups. Chairs scrape across wooden floors. Glasses clink behind the bar.

The alcohol is wearing off.

Your energy is beginning to fade with it.

Steve notices the change immediately.

The way your words have become slower. The way your eyes linger shut a little longer every time you blink. The way you instinctively seek him out whenever he moves more than a few feet away.

He says his goodbyes. Collects jackets. Finds your missing shoe, somehow.

And eventually guides you towards the car.

Halfway across the car park you mumble something against his shoulder.

"What was that?"

"Hm?"

"What'd you say?"

You squint up at him.

For a moment he thinks you've forgotten.

Then you smile.

Small. Sleepy. Entirely yourself.

"I said thank you."

Steve frowns.

"For what?"

You shrug.

"As a general concept."

A laugh escapes before he can stop it.

"A general concept?"

"Mhm."

"Very specific."

"I know."

When he reaches the car, he opens the passenger door and waits while you climb inside. He makes sure your seatbelt is on, checks you've got your phone, your bag, your jacket.

The routine is so familiar he barely has to think about it anymore.

It's only when he closes the door and walks around to the driver's side that he notices you're watching him through the windscreen.

Still smiling.

The soft kind this time.

Not the reckless grin from earlier.

Something quieter and infinitely more dangerous.

Steve settles into the driver's seat.

"What?"

You continue looking at him.

Nothing but affection in your eyes.

"Nothing."

"Baby."

"I just love you."

The words arrive so casually they almost miss him entirely.

No build-up. No fanfare.

Just a simple statement of fact.

Like commenting on the weather. Like mentioning that it's late. Like saying the sky is blue.

I just love you.

Steve reaches across the centre console and takes your hand.

Your fingers immediately curl around his.

Outside, amber streetlights cast pools of gold across the empty car park. Inside, the heater hums softly to life, filling the silence with something warm and familiar.

You yawn.

Your eyes drift shut.

Your hand remains wrapped around his.

And as Steve starts the engine, he finds himself thinking about every stranger you'd spoken to tonight, every photograph you'd proudly shown off, every conversation he'd been hopelessly embarrassed by.

Because none of them had really been about him being pretty.

Not entirely.

They'd been about something much simpler.

You'd spent the entire evening looking at him the way people look at their favourite place.

Like somewhere safe. Somewhere familiar. Somewhere worth returning to.

And maybe that was what had embarrassed him so much.

Not being admired.

Being seen.

Because loving somebody is easy to understand.

Being known quite that completely is something else entirely.

Steve squeezes your hand once before pulling out of the car park.

You don't even open your eyes.

You just squeeze back.

And somehow, after everything, that feels like the most convincing declaration of love he's heard all night.

“I'm the dad and Steve's the mom, right?”

“Obviously,” Robin responded to your playful words. “But no time for joking right now. What I'm trying to say is that I hate being stuck in the middle.”

You wanted to tell her that that wasn’t the case at all— you and Steve weren’t trying to make her choose a side, and you weren’t telling her that she could only be friends with one of you— but you didn’t say any of that because she was pretty much right, she was caught in the middle of your and Steve’s breakup. 

The three of you had been best friends, and it was a trio that was forged through long days of slinging ice cream. And even when you and Steve started dating at the end of that summer, things really didn’t change between the three of you all that much. Robin was happy about your and Steve's relationship because she loved bragging that she had seen it coming from a mile away, and you’d all still hang out constantly and never once did she feel like a third wheel. 

It had all been so perfect. 

Until it wasn’t. And now everything had changed. 

“And I get it,” Robin continued. “I get why you guys are broken up, and I understand the reasoning behind it and all of that. But, is there any way that things could maybe go back to how they used to be before you leave for college?”

“I don’t know,” You admitted honestly. You had no idea if you could actually let things go back to how they were. After being so in love with Steve— there had even genuinely been moments where you considered a “forever” with him— the thought of just becoming his friend again felt a little too weird and a lot too depressing to you. 

Robin sighed but ultimately nodded, and you two went back to watching the movie playing on the TV. 

You felt grateful that she didn’t bring up the promise that you and Steve made to her when you first started dating— how if things somehow didn’t work out between you and him, you’d all still be able to stay close friends. You never once thought that you and Steve would break up, and you especially never thought that you’d end up in a place where all you wanted to do was avoid him, so in the moment, it had felt so easy and like a no-brainer to make that promise to her. It was a promise that you now viewed as naive and so stupidly hopeful. 

However, at the end of the day, it was still a promise, and even though Robin hadn’t brought it up, it was all you could think about for the rest of the night. And it became the reason why you decided to call Steve for the first time in two weeks when you got home that night. 

It went entirely against your plan of quitting him cold turkey— no talking to him, no seeing him, absolutely no contact with him whatsoever. But, you fought the urge you immediately had to hang up the phone after you finished dialing his number and it started ringing. 

“Hello?” 

“We need to do something with Robin,” You said, skipping past any and all greetings and niceties. 

“I’m hanging out with her tomorrow,” Steve responded, and you easily picked up on the confusion in his voice. “And didn’t you two just hang out tonight?”

“No, I mean together. We need to hang out with her together,” You told him as you started mindlessly twirling the phone cord around your index finger. “She hates how different things are now, and I think we should show her that we can be… okay around one another.”

“Okay” seemed like the best, and only, word to use in this context; it wasn’t too much. You definitely felt like you couldn’t say friends or anything else remotely close to that. 

“I'm thinking we do a movie at The Hawk and then dinner at the diner,” You continued. 

“Classic Friday night,” Steve responded.

“Exactly,” You said, nodding even though he couldn’t see you.

It had been a staple among the three of you, and you could only allow yourself to inwardly admit how much you really missed those nights. Going to the movies, spending hours at the diner afterward, dropping Robin off at home before her midnight curfew, and then you and Steve heading to his place, falling into his bed, and talking about anything and everything until the sun came up. Your heart ached harshly in your chest the more you thought about it, and the more you thought about how a night like that would never happen again. 

You cleared your throat and willed away the feeling in your chest. “So, yeah, movie and diner. You in?”

“Of course, anything for Robin,” He told you. “And, I guess, we did kind of promise her that things would stay okay between all of us if we did ever break up.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking about too,” You responded, and the conversation came to a quiet end. All too quickly, an awkwardness that felt impossible to ignore started to linger; the harsh reminder of just how different everything was between you and him. You immediately wanted to push that feeling away. “Um, I should go. I’ll see you Friday, I guess.”

“Okay, yeah. See you Friday.”

You let out a sigh when you placed the phone back on its hook. A wave of nervousness washed over you, but you pretended that everything was fine and that spending time with Steve for the first time since the breakup would be completely fine too. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I know this is a pity hangout, but I'm still having fun.”

You shook your head at Robin’s words. “It’s not a pity hangout.” 

She gave you a look that said that she didn’t believe you in the slightest. “So you two decided to set this up because you wanted to and not because of all that stuff I said a couple nights ago?”

“Yes, exactly,” You said, and then took another sip of your milkshake so that you could break eye contact with her. 

Before she could say anything in response to that, Steve came back from the bathroom and slid back into the booth that you three had been occupying for the last half an hour; you and Robin on one side and him on the other. 

“Okay, it hit me while I was in there. It actually makes so much sense why that guy ended up being the killer,” He said, referring to the movie you all had just watched. “When the first girl was murdered, he got to the scene of the crime way too fast.”

Robin let out a laugh. “You had this groundbreaking epiphany while you were in the bathroom?”

“Yes, I do my best thinking in there sometimes,” Steve responded with a shrug, which only made her laugh harder, and you were unable to bite back your own amused smile. He only playfully rolled his eyes in response. 

“Honestly, the movie kinda sucked,” Robin said when her laughter subsided, and you and Steve hummed in agreement. “Ooh, you know what we need to rewatch again? A Nightmare on Elm Street.”

You groaned. “No. Can we please stay away from horror for a little while? I need to remind my brain that happy things still exist.”

Steve gave you an amused smile. “What’s your suggestion instead? Watching The Muppet Movie for the millionth time?” 

“Joke’s on you because I was actually gonna say The Muppets Take Manhattan,” You said, and then teasingly stuck your tongue out at him because it felt like second nature to do so, and he laughed.  

Somehow, this entire night had felt weirdly okay and actually somewhat easy thus far; like there truly was a way for the three of you to go back to being that “trio” again. You tried not to let yourself think too far ahead, though. This was only one night, and you knew that it wouldn’t be able to change everything for the better. You simply just wanted to live in this really good moment. 

“Wait, that would actually be a good idea for a movie night,” Robin said. “We all watch whatever our favorite movies from childhood were.” 

A conversation started from there, where you all talked about movies you loved when you were kids. You made fun of Steve’s childhood love for the Willy Wonka movie just like he made fun of you with The Muppets, and you both refused to believe Robin when she said that her favorite movie when she was younger was Taxi Driver.

“I had impeccable taste, even as a kid,” She had said, and you rolled your eyes while Steve threw a stray fry at her. 

After spending what was definitely way too long at the diner, the three of you were back in Steve’s car, and he started the quick drive to Robin’s house; she was the closest to the diner, and even you could recognize that it wouldn’t make sense to drop you off first, like when he had picked you up last at the start of the night. However, you had prematurely planned for this; asking Robin yesterday if you could spend the night at her house after the diner, and she, of course, said yes. 

This night with Steve had surprisingly gone okay— pretty much better than just okay— but that didn’t mean that you wanted to be left alone with him, even if it would only be for a ten-minute car ride. You could just imagine how quickly things would fall into awkwardness if you two didn’t have Robin to be the perfect buffer. Without her, you couldn’t even imagine what this night would’ve been like. Without her, this night wouldn’t have existed. 

“Oh, I meant to mention this earlier, but there’s been a slight change of plans,” Robin said when Steve was parked in front of her house, and you started unbuckling your seatbelt to get out too. She turned around to look at you. “You can’t sleep over tonight. My mom is, um, being really weird about… my room. I haven’t cleaned it in forever. It’s a mess. And she doesn’t want me having anyone stay over because of that. So yeah. Sorry.”

“Robin,” You looked at her as if she were insane. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m deadly serious. You know how my mother is,” She told you and then opened the passenger side door. “Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow. Get her home safe, Harrington. Bye.”

Before you could say anything, she was closing the car door behind her and practically running up her driveway and to her front porch steps, giving you two one final quick wave before heading inside. 

“She’s unbelievable,” You mumbled as you finished unbuckling your seatbelt and then opened the back door.

Steve became entirely confused by your actions. “You’re walking home?”

“No, it just feels too weird being in the back when the front seat is open,” You answered and then moved to the passenger seat. You met Steve’s eyes just for a second and then looked away.

“That could’ve been great practice for when I decide to pivot into my next job as a cab driver,” He said as he started driving, making a left turn at the end of Robin’s street and heading in the direction of your house.

You wanted to laugh at what you knew was a joke, but all you could focus on was how jarring it felt that he wasn’t turning right toward his place, like what would usually happen on these types of Friday nights. 

And it felt weird being in his passenger seat too. It no longer felt right to adjust the seat to how you liked it, or turn up the radio, or jokingly change the station to a country one because hearing the sound of a banjo always made him laugh for some reason. It only felt okay to sit with your hands in your lap and stare out the window at the houses passing by. Somehow, it was being here in his passenger seat, and feeling like a stranger within it, that reminded you of what you and Steve now were to each other.

You took another quick look at him. “Did you actually think I would’ve rather walked home instead of being alone in a car with you?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” 

“I don’t hate you, Steve.” 

“I know, but before tonight, you had made it really clear that we should never talk to each other again,” He responded, making another turn at another stop sign. “The only reason we hung out tonight was because of Robin.”

That was entirely true, but that was the last thing you wanted to talk about in this moment. 

“If anything, you should hate me. I’m the one who’s leaving.”

He immediately shook his head. “It would be really messed up if I were mad at you for going to college.” 

“Well, I mean, you did break up with me because of it,” You responded, which made Steve sigh. 

“Saying it like that makes it sound really fucked up.”

By the end of that hour-long breakup conversation two weeks ago, it had ended up feeling like a mutual thing, but at the end of the day, it was still Steve who had brought it up in the first place. 

“What other way is there to say it?” You weren’t trying to be mean to him in this moment, but you suddenly worried that the bluntness of your words made it come off that way, especially when he didn’t say anything in response to you at first, and a silence took over the car. 

“It was stupid,” Steve said softly, filling the prevailing quiet. “Probably one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done.” 

A part of you wanted to roll your eyes at his words, while the other part of you felt a tiny sliver of hope that inadvertently made your heart race. It was your turn to sigh. “Do you actually mean that?” 

When he broke up with you, he had talked about how long-distance relationships never worked and how they only prolonged the inevitable and always made the couple hate each other. Honestly, everything he was saying sounded like something you would have said; you’d always been the more logical thinker. However, when it came to you and Steve, you always inadvertently led with your heart over your head. 

“Yes, I wish I had never said it, but I just thought it was the right thing to do.”

“Because long-distance relationships never work?” You said, reminding him of what had been his main point when he broke things off. 

“No,” Steve shook his head. “Because you’re going to college and you’re gonna do great things, and I don’t wanna hold you back.”

That was not at all what you expected to hear from him.

It was so honest and vulnerable, and you suddenly saw that last conversation you two had entirely different, and all you could now do was replay the whole thing in your head.  

Barely a minute later, Steve was pulling up in front of your house. However, there was absolutely no way that you were getting out of his car now, not when he just dropped what felt equivalent to a bomb on you. 

“What?” You turned to look at him, finally responding to his previous words. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t— I didn’t want things to get to the point where you started choosing me over really important opportunities,” Steve answered, meeting your eyes. 

For a second, all you could do was blink at him. You wanted to understand his words, and you wanted to fully see his point of view, you really did, but it was too hard to think rationally right then because you just felt so confused. 

“Nothing’s even happened yet. I’m not even there yet,” You told him, trying to keep your voice calm and steady, but it felt damn near impossible. “You were thinking about problems that don’t exist.”

“Once I started thinking about it, I couldn’t not think about it,” He responded. “And then I just wanted to rip off the band-aid, if that makes sense. End it before us being together started ruining things for you.”

You looked away from him then, slumping back in your seat. “You should’ve told me the truth, Steve. Not some bullshit reasons about long-distance relationships failing.”

“It was stupid,” Steve said, repeating the words that pretty much started this conversation in the first place. 

“It was,” You agreed, still staring straight ahead at your dark street. 

“And I’m sorry for lying to you. I wish I had just told you the truth instead of being a scared idiot,” He said, and you could only nod in response at first. 

There was too much running through your mind right then. It was a lot of contradictory thoughts and feelings that only confused you and went against everything that you’d convinced yourself was true over the last two weeks.

The breakup was hard, almost too hard, so you had told yourself that you needed to do the one thing that would be “easy” and force your brain to accept it; your heart was a completely different story, but you figured it would catch up eventually. However, now it was as if your head didn’t know what to do or think or feel, and your heart stupidly wanted to be completely truthful in this moment. 

“We would’ve figured everything out,” You told him after a few beats of silence. “I honestly think we could’ve made anything work. Long distance, random life changes, whatever. And I know that’s probably naive of me to say, but I really did believe in us.” You shook your head at yourself. “Somehow, we completely switched roles. You became the logical one and I became the hopeless romantic.”

“I don’t wanna be the logical one anymore. I tried it out and completely fucked everything up.”

“It’s…” You tried to figure out exactly what you wanted to say. There was so much you could’ve said right then, but your thoughts felt too scattered to form a coherent sentence. “It’s okay.”

The conversation came to its natural stopping point there. You didn’t know what else to say or do in this moment. This talk felt unfinished, but you had no idea how to finish it in a way that would make everything feel like it was wrapped up in a pretty little bow. In a perfect world, you and Steve would easily make up from here, pick up right where things left off, and pretend as if the last two weeks hadn’t happened. But, the world you two lived in wasn’t perfect, so you silently figured that maybe it would make more sense if you simply just left things as they now were. 

You started unbuckling your seatbelt. “It’s late. I’m gonna go.”

“You sure?” Steve asked, and you only nodded instead of saying anything. 

You pushed open the car door. “Night, Steve.”

“Night,” He responded softly and then proceeded to watch you walk away from his car. 

You were heading up your front porch steps, moments away from unlocking your door and heading inside, when Steve made the impulsive decision to unbuckle his seatbelt and run after you. 

“Wait,” His voice slightly startled you, and you turned around. He was racing up your steps to catch up to you, and you were about to ask him what he was doing, but he started speaking before the question could even form on your lips. “I think you’re right. No, scratch that, actually, I know you’re right. I want us to work, and I know we can, I really do. And I know you were speaking in past tense, so maybe you don’t believe in us anymore, but I still do. I’m such an idiot for overthinking everything, and I’m so sorry for not being honest about what I was thinking. If I could go back and do things completely different, I would, one thousand percent. I love you so goddamn much, and I don’t think that will ever change. And I know it’s my fault that we’re in this position in the first place, but I hope I didn’t ruin things so terribly that I can’t fix it. Because I really want to fix this—”

You cut off his rambling with a kiss; your hand found his cheek, and you slotted your lips against his. Steve reciprocated immediately, not wasting a second to kiss you back, even though he was slightly surprised by the action. 

It was the exact thing your heart needed in this moment, and it is what it had been aching and yearning for these past two weeks. 

Leaving things as they were made sense because it was technically easier, but it was far from what you actually wanted, and hearing Steve’s rambling apologies and how much he wanted to fix things only made you want to show him that you agreed completely; you didn’t want to give up on you two either. 

Kissing Steve felt like second nature to you, as if absolutely no time had passed since the last time his lips were on yours. In a way, it felt like coming back home.

When you pulled away, you met Steve’s eyes and gave him a soft smile. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He asked, eyes searching yours with a hopeful look on his face, as if that kiss hadn’t just said it all. 

You nodded at his words, and he didn’t hesitate to pull you in for a hug. His arms tightened around you, and you inwardly sighed in contentment at the feeling. You felt at ease in Steve’s arms, and all you wanted to do was grab his hand and lead him inside your house. Instead, though, you decided to savor this moment because there was no need to rush things; you two had all of the time in the world.

“I hope you know that Robin’s gonna say that this is all her doing,” You said, words slightly muffled because your face was buried in Steve’s neck, but he heard you clearly. 

From the moment Robin left you alone in the car with Steve, you knew exactly what she was trying to do, and you were now grateful for her abrupt plan; even though it had been very risky and could’ve potentially made things worse. 

Steve laughed a little at your words, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sound. “Oh yeah, and she’s never gonna let us forget this. This will definitely become her new favorite story to tell everyone.” 

You laughed too and pulled back so you could look up at him. “Definitely.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

°❀.࿔ steve

yes. absolutely. steve is very attentive, he gets off on his own partners pleasure.

“right there,” you mewl, “harder!”

steve shifts his hips, throwing your leg over his shoulder, “you want it harder?”

you nod desperately, tugging your lip in between your teeth. steves hips drive into you with more force, all while maintaining the same pace as before. your jaw falls slack. steves curls have fallen loose from his hair and bounce with each powerful thrust he gives you.

“just like that,” you moan

“yeah? you like that baby?” he smirks down at you, all smug because he knows exactly how to fuck you

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

°❀.࿔ gator

IMMEDIATELY NO. i feel like if you tell him to go harder he just starts speeding up and pistoning in and out of ur pussy. hes really focused on his pleasure more than anything.

gator has both of your legs over his shoulders, practically folding you further into the mattress.

“give it to me,” your nails scratch down his back, “harder”

“you asked for it, mama.”

gators hips snapped forward, fucking into you frantically.

“take it,” he grunts right in your ear. his nails are digging into your hips with each brutal thrust of his hips. the bed bangs against the wall while he chases his own high.

its not exactly unpleasurable.. it just wasnt what you had asked for. and because of that, the coil that was tightening in your stomach had practically vanished. it didnt take long for him to spill inside of you, swearing its the best sex hes ever had.

i can totally imagine afterward you try correcting him on it and he would get so defensive about it 😭 get all petty and be like “i think i know how to please a woman,” , “made you cum, didnt i? so quit yer naggin’.” you dont have the heart to tell him you had to fake your orgasm…

arrogant little shit smh 😒

°❀.࿔ kurt

no. hes soo inexperienced that in his brain, harder means to go faster, thats all hes ever seen in porn, so to him, it must be right! poor baby doesnt know any better :( it makes things so much harder for him bc u just feel so good. he becomes a whimpering babbling mess on top of you cause he rarely ever tops :(

hes trying to stifle his own whimpers and whines, his fists are bunched up and pressed into the mattress while hes on top of you. his arms shaking ever so lightly as he fucks into you.

“baby, can you fuck me harder?”

“uh-huh,” he nods bashfully.

instead, kurt just starts increasing the speed of his thrusts, hoping it does something for you. the veins in his neck strain, his hair is flopping wildly in time with his needy thrusts.

“harder, baby,” you moan softly, “not faster.”

“c-cant stop,” he whines, “just feels so good, ohmygod.”

°❀.࿔ travis

yes he does, but i feel like hes such a blabber and gets caught up in it that he accidentally starts going faster.

“travis,” you whimper, further arching your back, “harder, please.”

his hands knead the fat of your ass before moving back to firmly hold your hips.

“oh fuck,” he groans lowly

another sharp thrust. his eyes are glued to the way your ass recoils against him, “mygod– you take it so good baby.”

a broken moan falls from you, he gives another deep thrust, “pussys so good, can feel you squeezing me.”

“gonna milk me dry”

“so tight”

“fuck me, your ass is perfect”

whiles hes rambling on and on about how good you feel and how perfect you are, he subconsciously starts fucking you faster.

“n-not so fast, baby,” you gasp out, reminding him gently

“wha–? oh shit,” he chuckles, “sorry.”

°❀.࿔ keys

yes he does!!!! and hes very similar to steve. super sweet and caring boy!!

your eyes flutter as keys thrusts rhythmically into you, filling your pussy up just right.

“talk to me, pretty,” his glasses are perched low on his nose, “what do you need?”

“want it harder, please,” you beg, looking at him with gentle eyes.

his gaze softens at your request, he moans with you as the power behind his thrusts becomes deeper, reaching that one spot that practically shuts your brain off. keys brows furrow in concentration as he studies your face, watching the way you're engulfed by the pleasure.

“like this?” he waits for an answer from you before assuming hes right.

“mhm– keys,” you breathe, “keep going, dont stop.”

Just as Steve deepens the kiss—his large hands on either side of your neck gently titling your head back to coax your lips apart with his tongue—the sound of someone gasping in surprise rips the two of you apart.

Please don’t let it be Dustin. Please don’t let it be Dustin.

But as you pull away from Steve, your face burning and Steve looking a little dazed, you quickly realise that it wasn’t Dustin who had caught you—it was Lucas.

“Um, hi Sinclair,” Steve says by way of greeting, trying to act casual and as though you hadn’t been making out merely seconds ago.

Lucas’ eyes dart from Steve, to you and back again.

“Oh, Dustin is gonna flip—”

“—you can’t tell Henderson!” Steve insists, eyes widening in slight panic. “He’ll kill me—”

“—maybe you should have thought about it before you started making out with his sister—”

“—it was just a kiss—”

“—that’s a bunch of bull—”

“—Lucas, please don’t tell Dustin,” you plead with Lucas, cutting him off mid sentence so you didn’t have to hear him and Steve bicker back and forth a moment longer.

“Why not?” Lucas asks. “He deserves to know, this isn’t fair on him, you know? Besides, the party doesn’t keep secrets from each other. I have to tell him.”

The guilt stirs in your gut because you knew Lucas was right. You knew not being honest with Dustin wasn’t fair on him but you were trying to be sensitive around your brother’s current state.

Steve glances at you, seeing the torn expression on your face and his hand twitches, as though he was desperate to reach for yours.

“Just give us a few days, yeah?” Steve asks Lucas. “We’ll tell him. We just need to figure out how to do it gently.”

Lucas looks unconvinced and you decide to plead with him instead.

“Please Lucas?” You press him gently before he could open his mouth to tell you no. “Th—this isn’t a bit of fun for us and we want to tell Dustin properly.”

Your eyes are on Lucas but you could feel Steve looking at you at your words. You try not to think too much about it.

“Wait—you guys are like…serious?” Lucas asks.

You feel your face warming and you force yourself not to look at Steve at that moment.

“Yeah,” Steve says, his hand finding yours, thumb gently rubbing over your skin and making it hard for you to hold back a smile. “We are.”

Lucas looks at Steve for a long moment before finally, he nods. “Okay,” he says, somewhat reluctantly. “Okay, okay. I won’t tell him. But you two should probably stop making out in the basement if you don’t want him to catch you.”

You learned a day later that Lucas Sinclair could not keep a secret.

You were back in the basement of the radio station, planning the next crawl. The basement was full with the entirety of the party present as well as the older kids, Joyce and Hooper. You stand beside Steve, trying to keep a straight face as you listen to Nancy but it was proving difficult when Steve kept nudging his foot against yours.

You hear your name being said and you look up to see Nancy looking at you expectantly.

“What?” You ask, your mind half on the conversation and half on Steve’s arm that was brushing against yours. “Sorry. What did you say, Nance?”

Nancy looks at you, slightly suspicious of the distracted look on your face before she glances back down at the map. “I asked if you and Steve were okay to take the van tonight? We need Dustin to stay here to cover—”

Lucas snorts with laughter and you don’t even have time to send him a warning look before he bursts out, “Oh, they’ll be just fine. They’re just gonna make out the whole time.”

His words were met with complete and utter silence.

Your face was burning and Steve was almost completely lost for words. Lucas seems to realise two seconds too late what he had just let slip and attempts to laugh it off.

“I was kidding! It was just a—”

But nothing gets past Dustin Henderson.

“What are you talking about?” Dustin asks, brows furrowed in confusion as he looks from you to Steve and back again. “Is there something I don’t know about going here or?”

“I um,” Steve begins, looking at you while Robin—who was the only person who knew about you and Steve—struggles to keep a straight face. “I mean he was probably jo—”

“—no, don’t try and bullshit me man, what is Lucas talking about?”

You look up your brother then and you almost see the way he’s putting two and two together. At the way Steve’s body was turned towards yours, how he was looking at you with a soft look of concern on his face. 

“Dustin, I swear we were going to tell you—” You begin but Dustin is quick to cut you off.

“—we?” Dustin asks, nostrils flaring as he looks at Steve. “There’s a we?”

“Can we please focus?” Hopper’s gruff voice cuts in before you or Steve could respond. “There’s more important things that we need to—”

“—you can’t be serious,” Dustin interrupts, clearly no longer caring about the crawl as he glares at both you and Steve. “You and Steve? Seriously?”

“Dustin, could you just—”

But Dustin is already shaking his head, curls bouncing as he walks away from the table without another word to either you or Steve.

Everyone in the room seems to hold their breath as Dustin practically stomps up the basement stairs while you and Steve look at each other. You vaguely register Lucas profusely apologising for running his mouth but you weren’t listening.

“I’ll go after him,” you say to Steve. “I can talk to him and—”

“—no, I’ll go,” Steve insists with a shake of his head. You open your mouth to protest but Steve is already leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek before he follows Dustin up the basement stairs.

“So you and Steve, huh?” Robin asks, trying and failing to seem surprised. “I had no idea! That’s such a surprise!”

Both Nancy and Jonathan laugh in a disbelieving sort of way and even you manage to crack a smile, despite the way your heart was pounding in your chest as you can’t help but imagine the conversation that Steve and your brother were having.

“Alright! Can we focus up now, please?” Hopper calls out, trying to wrangle everyone’s attention back to the mission at hand. “Alright—Wheeler—no Mike, not you—I need you and Buckley to—”

“—I’m just gonna go and check Steve and Dustin are okay,” you interrupt Hopper, ignoring the audible groan of frustration from him as you slip past the group and race up the basement stairs.

You follow the sound of Steve and Dustin’s voices, all the way up the basement stairs and out of the maintenance room where the entrance to the basement was hidden. You’re about to round the corner to head into the kitchen when the sound of Steve’s voices stops you.

“—I promise you man, I’m not just fooling around with her. I wouldn’t do that, especially not to her.”

“Then why would you not tell me? If you were that serious about her—”

“—I was scared, okay? I was—I was scared you wouldn’t handle it well and honestly? I was scared because I hadn’t felt this way about anyone before.”

Your breath hitches and even Dustin is taken aback by Steve’s words.

“Not even Nancy?”

A beat and then—

“Yeah. Not even Nance. With Nance it was—it was constantly worrying if I was doing the right thing, if I was enough. But with your sister—” Steve begins and though you can’t see him, you can hear the smile in his voice. “—she’s the real deal. She’s my favourite person and I was scared that telling everyone about our relationship would burst that bubble or something.”

You bit back a smile as you lean against the wall, your heart feeling fuller at Steve’s admission.

“She’s your favourite person?” Dustin repeats, his voice a little softer now.

“Yeah,” Steve says quietly. “She is.”

You almost step out and into the kitchen but what Dustin asks Steve next keeps you rooted to the spot.

“Do you love her?”

You swallow because three months together meant that you hadn’t yet breached the L word yet with Steve. You knew you loved him—you had known since the very first kiss if you were honest with yourself. But you had never told him that and you couldn’t be sure that Steve was actually in love with you too.

You almost leave, so that you don’t have to hear Steve’s response. In fact, you started to do just that—stepping back towards the stairs that lead back down to the basement when—

“Yeah,” Steve breathes. “I do. I love her.”

Your heart was doing funny things in your chest, things that surely defied science and all because Steve Harrington admitted that he loved you. He loved you, he loved you, he loved you.

“Wow,” you hear Dustin say a few seconds later, after he had digested Steve’s words. “Love. That’s um, that’s big, Steve.”

“It’s kind of hard not to fall in love with her.”

The smile that was beginning to tug on your lips almost hurt at Steve’s words. You had to fight the urge to run toward your boyfriend and kiss him stupid.

“You know if you break her heart that I’ll get Jonathan to beat you up again—”

“—oh c’mon, that was one time, I could totally take Byers again if I—”

“—so as long as you don’t do anything too stupid then—then I guess…I guess I forgive you for keeping it from me.”

“I promise you I won’t,” Steve reassures Dustin. “I’m gonna keep her for as long as she’ll have me. You never know, I might be your brother in law one day—”

“—nevermind, take everything I said back—”

“—too late, I can already see it now. A spring wedding, you can be the ring bearer and—”

You don’t see it but you hear a thumping sound which could only mean Dustin had smacked your boyfriend’s arm to shut him up. And you can’t help yourself, you let out a laugh.

There was silence from the kitchen and your heart thumps as you realise that both Steve and Dustin had heard you. 

Dustin calls out your name and asks, “is that you?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, silently cursing yourself before you respond. “Yeah. It’s me.”

You step out then, heading towards the kitchen where Dustin and Steve were watching you step over the threshold. Dustin looked incredibly amused while Steve had a look of apprehension on his face, likely worried about just how much you had overheard.

“You’re so like mom, you know that? She’s always eavesdropping on my conversations—”

Your face burns at that and you glance quickly at Steve before looking away, “—I wasn’t eavesdropping, Dustin—”

“—you totally were. But whatever, I’m glad you two are happy. Just don’t make out in front of me. I don’t want anymore reasons to go to therapy at my age.”

You let out a choked out sound while the tips of Steve’s ears turn red. Dustin pays no mind to it, slipping past you as he heads towards the basement door with a slight spring in his step.

You don’t speak and neither does Steve. You begin to fiddle with a button on your cardigan while Steve seems suddenly interested in looking out of the kitchen window. 

“So, do you wanna head back down before Hoppers kills us or—”

“—how much did you hear?”

You flex your fingers, the button slipping from your hand as you look over at Steve. He has a carefully measured expression on his face, as though he was bracing himself for the worst.

For a moment, you debate whether or not to lie to him. Whether you should tell him you hadn’t heard much at all but one look in those big, hazel eyes that you loved so much and you couldn’t find it in yourself to lie to him.

“You said I’m your favourite person,” you say finally with a faint smile. “That was sweet.”

Steve swallows nervously, a pink flush creeping up his neck as he looks back at you. “It’s true, you are.” He takes a tentative step closer, his eyes not leaving yours as he asks, “what else did you hear?”

You pretend to think, finding it near impossible to not smile as Steve stands right in front of you, his hands planting themselves on your waist and squeezing affectionately.

“I heard you say that you love me,” you say softly, your eyes flickering over his face.

“Yeah?” Steve murmurs, leaning in until his lips ghosted over your cheek, his breath hot against your skin. “And what did you think about that, baby?”

You exhale a shuddering breath, Steve’s lips placing a tender kiss to your cheek, then another to your forehead, then your nose and finally the very corner of your mouth. The contact makes your entire body shudder.

“I think,” you breathe out, head tilting back instinctively so as to look back at him. “I think it’s a good thing that I love you too.”

You feel Steve’s breathing slow, his hands grip you that little bit tighter and there was a look in his face that you hadn’t seen before.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, barely able to contain the smile on his face, “I love you. I love you so much. I can’t believe—”

He doesn’t even finish his own sentence, his lips sealing over yours in a kiss that leaves you breathless. Your hands find their way into his hair and his pull you flush against him, your mouths moving against each other as though you had all the time in the world.

It was you who had the sense to pull away first—Steve chasing your lips and pressing kiss after kiss there until you were laughing against him.

“Later,” you promise him, placing a finger to his lips to stop him. “We’ve got a crawl to plan.”

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You had arrived at the Wheeler house earlier that afternoon for a group outing to the cinema, but unfortunately, going anywhere with the party meant you were doomed to be late no matter what. And according to Mike’s calculations, you’d be lucky if you didn’t miss the whole introduction of the movie.

“I can barely breathe back here—open the window!” Max exclaimed.

And the other problem was that Steve was the only responsible adult with a car to take you all there, meaning there were currently about six teenagers stuffed in his Beamer.

Steve froze in his tracks midway out the door, patting his back pocket repeatedly. “My keys—shit—where are my car keys!”

Robin was already ten steps ahead of him leaning against the car door, twirling his keys around her fingers. “C’mon Harrington, we’re gonna be late.” She said with a smug smirk.

Steve leveled her with a threatening glare. “Oh, absolutely not.”

“What was that?” Robin quirked her head, already sitting in the driver's seat.

He ran over and gripped the edge of her window, “Robin. You are not driving, you don’t even have a license, the last thing I need is for you to scratch up my car.”

“Too late!” She grinned, starting up the engine.

Steve huffed out a sharp breath, if she wanted to drive he was going to be watching the whole time. Just as he rounded the corner, Dustin swooped into the passenger seat.

“Shotgun!” He yelped.

“Out, Henderson. I’m older.” Steve shook the door, but Dustin had already locked it cautiously.

“Which also means you’ve gotten slower. Sorry old man, but to the back you go.” He gestured.

Having no other choice, Steve joined the rest of the kids in his already beyond cramped backseat. You were the last one to join the crew, standing unmoving in front of the car door as you observed the occupied seats.

“Oh, there’s…no space.” You muttered.

“Sure there is—just scootch over,” he instructed Lucas, but when you tried getting in, the door wouldn’t even shut.

Dustin groaned from the front, “This is what happens when you only have one car!”

Steve rolled his eyes, “couldn’t you guys just bike there?”

Dustin turned around to look at him like the suggestion was crazy. “Who bikes all the way to the cinema?”

Robin honked the horn, getting all of your attention once again. “Jesus—just sit in his lap, it isn’t that complicated!”

Your eyes widened immediately, you couldn't imagine having to put all your weight onto Steve’s lap for the duration of the drive. But, it did seem like the best solution, plus you were friends—it’s normal, right?

Steve swallowed thickly, nodding shakily. “Y-yeah, yeah, I can—just c’mere.” He avoided your gaze, worried if you looked close enough you would see the pink flush climbing up the side of his neck.

You hesitated, but any more time wasted and the kids would throw you out all together. Very slowly, you attempted not to bump into him as you gripped the seat, lowering yourself onto him.

He let out a low grunt, not because you were heavy, but because the effect was instant. Your soft hair was tickling his nose, the smell of your coconut shampoo and perfume invading his senses without warning. Steve didn’t know what to do with his hands, placing them around you might make you feel uncomfortable, he resolved to just hold the edge of the seat.

You didn’t dare turn around, you could already feel him, his warm breath hitting your shoulder, the broadness of his chest behind you, trying not to focus on how badly you wanted to lean against it, feel his body underneath your head.

The car started moving and you kept your mouth shut, grateful that the others were loud enough for them not to notice you and Steve’s unusual quietness.

Steve was taking short uneven breaths, your thighs were splayed over his and he couldn’t think straight. He was fighting the urge to pull you closer to him, the light fabric of your clothes weren’t stopping him from feeling your skin touching his.

Robin was severely under qualified to be driving, out of nowhere she swerved the car to the side, everyone letting out screams as they bumped into each other. The force jolted you to the side, and before you could hit your head against the window, Steve’s hands wrapped protectively around your waist, pulling you back until you were glued to his body.

He let out a curse at the close call, but your mind wasn’t on Robin’s reckless driving skills, it was reeling on how tight he was gripping you—his large veiny hands almost completely spanning the entirety of your waist.

“You alright?” Steve breathed quietly into your ear.

You took a couple of breaths before speaking, afraid you would only be a stuttering mess. “Mhm, better than ever.” You said unconvincingly.

You missed the way he smiled against the back of your neck, Steve was right where he wanted to be.

Feeling like you were undoubtedly crushing him, you shifted forwards and attempted to situate yourself so that you could sit upright. Suddenly, his hands squeezed you—his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“Stop moving.” He whispered low into your ear. You frowned in confusion, why would he want you to be laying on him?

Oh.

Steve cleared his throat heavily, and you could feel how hot his body was now. The car felt more cramped than earlier, it seemed like there was no place to go but closer.

After many missed turns, Robin eventually pulled into the theater’s parking lot, everyone praying in relief that they hadn’t died on the way. They all stumbled out until it was only you and Steve left, climbing out of his lap begrudgingly.

You looked back to see him still sitting, “Aren’t you coming?” You asked, waiting.

His body stiffened, arms held together in the same spot you had been recently sitting on. “Just give me a minute.” Steve responded tightly, unable to get up in public in his current state.

A crawl was not how you imagined your night going. Especially when Hopper just said you were to ride in the van alongside your brother and your ex.

After your breakup with Steve, you had avoided the party for a couple weeks. There hadn’t been a crawl in awhile due to no news of any convoys and it wasn’t like you were super close with everyone.

You had always tagged along with Steve.

Although everyone was nice to you and invited you, it was clear Steve was best friends with everyone. Not you.

Like when your brother came home and you asked where he had been just for him to scramble and stutter about hanging out with the party. Without you.

But, Robin insisted you join the crawl after showing up at your house to return a book she had borrowed.

“I don’t know, Robin…” You had trailed off, picking at your fingernails and leaning against the wall in your entryway.

Robin had groaned. “Please? Everyone misses you. You haven’t gone to any of the movie nights in the past couple weeks.”

You stared at her, giving her a look. “That’s because I know he will be there.” 

“Please, dude. I can’t do this without you.” She said after a moment, processing what you had said. “Everyone is asking where you are and where you went.”

You didn’t believe it.

“If I go, you have to buy me ice cream.” You muttered finally, folding your arms across your chest.

Robin cheered. “Yes! Thank you!” She pulled you into a quick hug before leaving to find Vickie at the hospital.

A couple hours later, you were sitting in the living space of the squawk, listening to Hopper deal out roles and use an expo marker to create a plan.

You saw Steve across the room, perched on an arm chair that Lucas had occupied. His hair was styled perfectly, his butter yellow sweater ironed and his face? He looked like he hadn’t missed an ounce of sleep, like there wasn’t any stress in his life.

It sent a painful jab to your heart.

Because you had been lying awake for hours for the past few weeks, thinking of him and regretting what you had said. 

You spent an hour this morning just trying to cover up the tear streaks and dark circles under your eyes.

“Alright, we understand?” Hopper concluded, turning back to the group.

Everyone nodded. You followed suit a moment after, gaze still on Steve.

You watched as his eyes left the board and to you.

Your breath caught.

But a second after, Dustin walked up to him and said something. 

You looked away as he did.

A couple minutes later, everyone began to split up.

As you started for the door, you felt a hand on your shoulder. 

You looked back to find Robin behind you, giving a smile.

“You okay?” She asked, walking beside you.

You shrugged. “Guess I’ll have to be.”

Robin frowned. “At least you won’t be alone with him, Dustin’ll be there.”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, stepping into the night air. “But it’s not like he’s best friends with Steve right now. So, it might just be hella awkward.”

Robin chuckled.

You spotted the squawk van, Steve opening the driver side door.

“Dude! Let’s go!” Dustin stood by the sliding door of the van, hand cupped around his mouth as he called to you.

“I’m going, I’m going.” You muttered, annoyed. 

You waved to Robin and headed towards Dustin who climbed into the back. That left the passenger seat.

Fuck my life you thought, hopping into the leather seat.

“Hey,” 

You glanced over to find Steve giving you a small smile, one that didn't reach his eyes. “Hi.” You croaked as you clicked your seatbelt in place.

“How are you?” He asked like it wasn't the first time you guys had talked since that night. One of his hands rested casually on the steering wheel, the other on the gear shift.

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m…doing okay.” You had to look away. “You?”

Steve sighed. “Good. Good.”

You nodded. “Good.”

“Oh my god, can we go?” Dustin groaned from the back seat, his headphones halfway on. 

Steve shot him a look and shifted the gear into drive. “Jesus.” He muttered under his breath and took off down the driveway.

As he drove, you leaned forward and turned the radio on. A Crowded House song faded in, a soft beat filling the space of the van.

It was quiet, awkward.

You thought about how it was before.

Steve would sing along to whatever song was playing, whether he knew it or not. Dustin would complain of his horrible singing voice from the back and you would laugh.

The van rides used to be full of warmth and noise. Steve and Dustin would playfully argue, you would cover your hand atop of Steve’s. 

But now, it was cold. Silent. You had to move carefully so the leather of the seat didn’t crinkle and make noise.

You stared silently out the window, watching the buildings of Hawkins pass. 

“Henderson?” The walkie-talkie crackled with Joyce’s voice.

You reached for it. “This is y/n. I copy." You then mumbled, "Over." remembering Dustin's constant reminders to properly conclude your statement.

The walkie crackled. “Okay. We’re running a little behind. You’ll have to wait for a little bit. Over.” Joyce said from the squawk's basement.

Great

You nodded, then realized she couldn’t see. “Right, okay. Will do. Over.” You set the walkie down.

“Guess we’ll just have to park?” Steve mumbled from the driver’s seat, pulling into the usual waiting position in the alley in between the book store and an apartment building.

“Mhm.”

Steve’s fingers tapped against the window. “I’ll grab us a snack. You want anything-a diet coke?”

Your heart clenched when he remembered your favorite drink. You almost forgot to reply. “Uh, yeah. Please.” 

He met your eyes. “A pack of MnMs too.”

You nodded.

“Dustin.”

Your brother pulled off his headphones and appeared between the both of you. “Fanta. Lays. Classic.”

Steve pushed his head back, sending him into the back. 

“Hey!” Dustin squeaked.

You huffed a laugh.

Steve caught your gaze, his own smile tugging at his lips.

You sobered immediately, smile fading.

He held your gaze for a second before shaking his head and opening the car door. “I’ll be back.”

The door clicked shut behind him and you watched as he crossed the street to the convenience store.

"Can't you guys just kiss and makeup already?" Dustin asked, poking his head up front again.

You sighed. "It's not that simple." You watched Steve disappear into the store. "I ended things. Like an idiot. He doesn't want me anymore."

Dustin snorted. "Bullshit."

You gave him a look. "Language."

He shook his head. "Steve is definitely still in love with you."

Your heart clenched.

"He's always asking about you." Dustin went on. "It's getting annoying. And he looks miserable all the time."

You bit your lip. "I dunno, Dusty."

"Uh, well, I know." He rolled his eyes. "Just talk to him. I can give you a chance." He picked up an old rubix cube from the center console. "I'll pretend that the radio connection is bad or something, step out of the car for a few minutes..." You watched as he began to solve the white side. "And boom you say you love him, he'll say it back, then you kiss and happily ever after."

You laughed. "I don't know if its that easy."

He shrugged. "Worth a shot."

You paused for a moment, thinking.

If your brother was saying the truth, then maybe Steve still felt the way you did. You had spent the past month wallowing in self pity, it was exhausting. You definitely wanted him back.

"Fine. Okay." You mumbled.

Dustin grinned.

You rolled your eyes.

Your gaze traveled back out towards the store as Steve exited.

But he wasn't alone.

A girl followed, bubbly, blonde and laughing at something he said.

Your heart sunk.

She put her hand on his arm, her fingers curling around his bicep.

Dustin paused, watching as well.

She said something and he smiled, nodding.

You felt tears well in your eyes when she handed him a piece of paper and he accepted it. It was no doubt her number.

"It's probably not what you think..." Dustin whispered, but his voice spoke it like a question.

You shook your head, watching Steve hoist the grocery bag higher in his hands and beginning to walk the girl to her car. When she slipped into the driver's seat, he waved goodbye and started for the van.

You swallowed thickly, blinking away tears and taking a deep breath.

"Don't mention anything." You told Dustin, your voice a little shaky. Gone was any hope Dustin had given you, and now a sense of coldness towards Steve crept in.

He gave you a sympathetic look and sunk into the backseat, toying with the buttons on the radio system.

You stared straight ahead as Steve opened the door and hoisted himself up into the van.

"Okay, i've got a can of fanta and a large back of chips for you." Steve threw Dustin's food into the backseat.

Dustin groaned as it hit him in the stomach. "Jesus christ, dude."

Steve smiled and reached back into the bag. "And a diet coke and a family size bag of Mnms for the lady." He looked at you, trying to catch your eye. You didn't reply at first. "Y/n?"

You hummed, turning your head towards him.

His smile turned lopsided. "Your food."

You let out a breath as you took the things from him. "Thanks."

He nodded and pulled out his own can of root beer. "Any news on Hop yet?"

You shook your head, popping the tab of the can open.

Steve nodded again. He straightened. "Oh, they didn't have the normal sized Mnms, so I had to get you the mini ones."

You looked at the bag. "Alright."

You couldn't shake the sight of Steve leaning into the touch of that girl. How his smile seemed genuine, how he accepted her number like you'd never existed.

It sent jabs at your heart.

You didn't want to talk to him anymore.

Joyce radioed a couple minutes later, telling you Hopper was on the move.

Steve scrambled at the keys and harshly pulled into the street.

You gripped your seat as he made a sharp turn and sped up.

Dustin guided his speed and soon, you were at an steady pace.

The crawl ended in another dead end.

No sign of Vecna.

Another zone crossed out on the map that projected on the Squawk's wall.

You sat in the passenger seat, curled up against the window as Steve drove you and Dustin home.

"No, we're not listening to Iron Maiden right now." Steve scolded Dustin. "Your sister's sleeping."

"Oh my god, it's always about her, isn't it." Dustin deadpanned.

Steve swallowed because it was. It was always going to be about you.

He had spent the past two hours trying to come up what to say to you and how to ask you to talk. He had an idea of what he wanted to say, constantly repeating it in his head.

Steve had spent the past month picking up the pieces of himself. He had never cried like the night after Robin came by his house to get your stuff because you had been too scared.

His father drilled into his head that real men don't cry.

But that went out the window when he lost you.

He tried to distract himself with work. But you were everywhere. In every song that Robin played for the listeners, in the way he made his coffee for the early morning shifts, in the storage room where you used to sneak kisses.

This had been the first week that he could get through a day without breaking down.

Talking to you again had the tension in his shoulders relax. Hearing your soft voice let him take a breath. Seeing you smile had him wanting to smile back.

But ever since he got back from the convenience store, you turned colder. You didn't look at him, you spoke in one word sentences.

He was dying inside.

He thought about that girl earlier who had slipped him a piece of paper that some guy was creepily following her and requesting he walk her to her car.

Steve glanced at you, slumped against the seat, eyes closed, lips barely parted in soft breaths.

Had you seen? Had you interpreted it differently?

Steve needed to talk to you.

He pulled in front of your house, barely able to see through the rainfall that had started just minutes before.

"Hey," He said to Dustin. "Can you give us a second?"

The younger Henderson glanced at you before nodding slowly. "Yeah, okay." He pulled the door open and hopped out.

Steve watched him walk up the driveway before turning to you.

He placed a hand on your upper arm. "Hey," He murmured gently.

You sighed softly, your eyes fluttering open. "Hm?" You hummed.

Steve practically melted when you gave him a soft look. "We're home."

home

Home used to mean his parent's house. It was where you had lived with him for the past year when his parents skipped town after news of the quarantine put in place.

You blinked slowly, glancing over at your house. "...Right." You reached for the door handle.

Steve swallowed. "Hey...can we, uh, talk?"

You straightened, turning back to him. "Talk?"

He nodded, biting his lip. "About...everything."

"Okay." You said after a minute.

Steve let out a breath.

“What you saw?” He finally said. “That girl, it-it wasn’t what it looked like-”

“Steve.”

“Seriously.” He went on, shaking his head. “I was just helping her to her car, that’s it. I swear.”

“Steve. It’s okay.”

He shook his head again, swallowing. “I didn’t-I can’t move on.” He admitted, his voice cracking. “I won’t.”

Your breath caught. “I-”

“I can’t move on from you.” He gazed into your eyes, pleading with you. 

You tilted your head. “I can’t either.”

Steve sighed with relief, his chest lifting. “Okay,” His hand gently covered yours. “Okay.”

You shook your head, pulling back. “But it isn’t that simple.”

His eyebrows furrowed, chest constricting. “What-what do you mean?”

“Steve…we were fighting constantly.” You whispered. “It wasn’t healthy.”

Steve’s lips parted, his eyes bouncing between yours. “I don’t want to fight.” He reached for you again. “I won’t. I won’t fight with you.”

You drew back, avoiding his gaze. “You can’t promise that.”

“I can. I will.” He choked out. “Please.”

You shook your head. “I can’t right now, I-I need to go.” You opened your door and slipped out, shutting it behind you and starting for your driveway.

A moment later, a car door opened. “Wait!” Steve’s voice cut through the rain. 

You turned slightly. “Steve, go home.”

He rounded the car and caught up with you. “Don’t go. Don’t run away from me. Please.” 

You looked away. “I’m not running away.”

Steve pushed his hair from his eyes, the strands growing wet. “You are, baby.” He took another step closer. “Please, can't we try again?”

You shook your head, tears filling your eyes. “I can’t do this right now, Steve.” You tried to turn away, but his hand caught your wrist, his touch sending electricity up your arm. “I’m tired. Let me go.”

He only pulled you closer. 

You shook away from his hold. You said in a shaky voice, “Goodnight, Steve.”

You got three steps away when he called out to you, “Fuck, I still love you!”

The rain came in buckets as you halted.

“I never stopped.” He called out in a desperate voice. You couldn't leave like this. This couldn't be the end again. “I could never stop. Not when you told me to go to hell that night or when you never returned my calls.” He threw his hands up. “I could never stop loving you.”

Tears fell onto your cheeks as you stared at him while your heart was breaking and everything was screaming at you to run away. His hair was a wet mess, flopping across his forehead. His leather jacket was drenched, his eyes squinting in the rainy night.

“Give me another chance, baby. Please.” He pleaded, standing as if the rain didn’t bother him.

You felt tears running down your cheeks and your lower lip wobbled. Your voice broke when you spoke. “Steve.”

His expression softened and he stepped closer to you, hesitantly bringing his hands to cup your face. You shivered at his cold fingers. “Don’t cry, baby. Don’t cry over me.” He murmured, his thumbs brushing your cheeks in soft swipes.

You let out a sob, uncontrollable tears running down your face. “I can’t help it.”

Steve smiled sadly. “Okay, honey. Let it all out.”

Your shoulders shook as you buried yourself into his chest, his body warm against the cold night.

He wrapped his arms around you tightly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He kept whispering over and over again. You couldn’t tell if it was for you or for him.

You pulled away slightly. “I still love you.” You brought your hand to his cheek. “But I'm scared.”

Steve brushed wet hair from your face. “I’m scared too.” 

“I want to try.” You breathed. “I want you.”

A smile spread across his lips. “I want you too. All of you.” He held you tighter. 

You glanced down from his eyes to his lips. 

Steve caught the signal and bent his head down to capture your lips in a kiss. You sighed as he angled his head, his fingers pressing into your cheeks. 

Your legs went shaky as his hand traveled down to hold the small of your back. You latched onto him as the rain poured around you, drops landing on your nose and chin. 

You pulled away slightly so your lips still brushed his. 

His forehead pressed into yours, his eyes barely open and hooded. “I love you.”

You smiled, eyes half closed. “I love you too.”

In a reality where you fought inter-dimensional monsters and befriended a young girl with telekinesis, you would think there’s nothing worse than dealing with that.

But it’s pretty easy to say going through a breakup with Steve Harrington is infinitely worse.

You’re standing behind the counter of Family Video, eyes fixated on a small piece of fuzz swirling around the air. You’re trying really hard to ignore the customer flirting with your ex boyfriend ten feet away from you.

You’re grateful he doesn’t seem to be reciprocating her advances, but its probably because you’re nearby. Steve really grew out of being an asshole and flirting with her in front of you would put him right back at the top of the official asshole list.

It’s been a month since your breakup and just know whenever someone says it gets easier with time, they’re lying. The first week was spent on Nancy’s couch, surrounded by tissues and a family sized tub of ice cream. You called in sick from work the whole week and cried enough tears to fill an entire ocean.

The second week, she forced you to socialize more. She was considerate enough to start small – an invitation to have breakfast with her and Jonathan. The opportunity to take Mike and El to the new skating rink. Max spent some time with you too but she didn’t push you to talk about it, she just sat with you through four different movies. All horror, there was absolutely no room for romance or comedy.

By the third week, you really had to pull it together. There was no word from Steve and it was probably better that way. Eddie, Mike and Lucas did all the work to get your things from Steve’s house and pack it up to bring to Nancy’s. You really didn’t want to move into her apartment but it was a stepping stone after leaving Steve’s.

Looking back on it now, the breakup was .. well, it was stupid. It was a cumulation of arguing and stress and lack of space all in one. Petty arguments over chores and snide remarks about each others habits. It was something that should’ve been solved with one conversation but you were both equally stubborn and when you angrily shouted maybe you needed space, he didn’t argue.

Still, you missed him. You really fucking missed him.

And the worst part is he seemed to be doing perfectly fine.

Dustin swore he wasn’t taking sides but you haven’t seen much of him these past couple weeks. Whenever the kids hung around you, he and Robin were both missing and Mike let it slip they were at Steve’s. It’s not like you blamed them, you were all friends but Steve was their best friend.

Now, it’s day 34 without him and you’re wishing the ground will swallow you whole and save you from hearing this girl drape herself all over him.

“It’s just so good to see you, Steve,” She says. She wears a wide smile on her face, one palm resting on his bicep. Steve doesn’t seem to mind, he just fiddles with the tape in his hand and smiles back.

“Yeah, you too, Stacey,” He responds.

Stacey.

He never mentioned a Stacey when you two were together and now suddenly they’re a pair of good friends who wish they kept up with each other over the years.

You try not to stare but then she grabs his forearm and snags the pen he had clipped to his vest. Your stomach twists when she begins to write on the skin of his arm. Steve watches her, his brows pulled together and when she finishes, she raises his arm to her mouth – she presses her red lipstick covered lips against his skin, flicking her eyes back up to his and leaves a kiss mark.

You physically feel sick.

She removes her mouth, a quiet pop sound fills the store. You can see now she’s written her phone number on him, the kiss mark a cute little signature. Her thumb brushes over the lipstick stain and smiles up at him again.

“Call me tonight,” Her voice is low and sultry. Steve glances at you and when he sees you already looking, he swallows hard.

You can feel your eyes prick with tears and tear your gaze away from him. Your throat feels tight, you clench your jaw to keep yourself from crying.

Thankfully, a different customer approaches the counter with their own tapes to check out. You clear your throat and take a deep breath, then plaster on the best customer service smile you can muster.

“Find everything okay, Mrs. Langston?” You ask, typing in her information as you complete her sale. The older woman is easy to talk to and maybe for a few seconds, you’re able to forget all about Steve and Stacey.

You’re unsure how the conversation ends but when you hand the receipt to her, Stacey’s gone and Steve is carefully approaching the counter opposite of you.

You bid your goodbyes to Mrs. Langston and busy yourself with cleaning up the papers near the register. There’s nobody left in the store except you and him. Tension fills the air quickly and you can feel him looking at you.

You hope he doesn’t try to make conversation about Stacey. Aside from things related to work, you haven’t spoken since the night you broke up. If he tries now, you’re almost certain you’d burst into tears.

If he’s moving on – even though it’s only been 34 days – you won’t stop him, and you definitely won’t beg him not to.

“Hey, uh listen,” Steve’s voice breaks the awkward silence. “About Stacey, I just want you to know -,”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” You cut him off quickly. Your back is still turned to him and you’ve re-piled  the same stack of papers four times now to look busy.

“I know, but I want to.”

You freeze then. Steve notices and you hear the sound of his footsteps coming closer. He approaches you carefully, like he knows you’re seconds away from running away, and stops a few steps behind you. He’s close enough you can feel the warmth from his body.

He says your name softly but you still don’t turn. “I’m sorry you saw that,”

Sorry you saw that.

He’s apologizing it for happening in front of you, not that it happened in the first place. Because he’s not sorry. Clearly, the breakup and space has been good for him and while you’ve been a walking zombie, he’s been moving on.

You swallow hard and bite your lip. “It’s fine, Steve.”

He moves again. This time to stand beside you and his head bends to try and catch your eyes. You keep your eyes trained on the stack of papers and pray he’ll drop it.

Before he has a chance to say anything, the bell at the top of the door sings and the door swings up. You’re more than thankful for the distraction and you look up to greet the customer but you’re met with Eddie, Max and El.

Max and El are talking amongst themselves but Eddie’s eyes are stuck on you. You don’t miss the mischievous glint in his eyes as he looks between you and Steve.

“Look at my two favorite Family Video employees,” He sings and approaches the counter. Max and El follow.

“Hey guys,” Steve greets them, but you can feel his eyes still on you. Eddie clearly notices as well and smirks at you.

“We’re here to pick up the tapes Robin put on hold yesterday. Y’know, movie night and all,”

“Right, I’ll go get those,” You say quickly, taking any opportunity to get as far away from Steve as possible. You miss the way his eyes sadden but he doesn’t stop you.

As you scurry to the break room, Max and El trail behind you.

“You’re coming tonight, right?” Max asks suspiciously. You send her a sideways glance as you fish around the room for where Robin hid the tapes.

You already know your answer – no, you will not be going because movie night is always held at Steve’s house and you can’t bear the thought of being there again so soon. But you haven’t told anybody you weren’t going. Honestly, you planned to just skip out on the whole thing without a word. Clearly, Max knows you well enough to know that’s exactly what you intended.

“I don’t think so, Max. I’m not feeling great today,”

She sees right through you. “Bullshit.”

You scowl at her. “Language, Mayfield.”

“You feel fine, you just don’t want to be around Steve,”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You wave her off, and kneel to the ground in front of a crate of old tapes.

“Why don’t you two get back together?” El asks. You look up from where you’re shuffling through tapes. “Max and Lucas break up and get back together all the time. Even me and Mike have done it before. He still likes you,”

Her oblivious nature is cute and you can feel yourself soften. “Steve and I are a little different from you guys, El. And I don’t think he wants to get back together.”

“That’s bullshit again!” Max exclaims.

“Max!” You groan and finally find the tapes Robin hid. Rising to your feet, you head back up to the front. “It’s just movie night, it’s not a big deal, alright?”

You push through the beaded curtain, the girls following suit and nobody misses Max’s sour face.

“It is a big deal! Eddie, will you tell her it’s a big deal?”

Eddie pulls himself away from the conversation with Steve and looks at you three. “What’s a big deal?”

“Nothing.” You say.

“She doesn’t wanna come tonight,” Max says at the same time.

Eddie makes a face. “Why not? It’s the third time you’ve bailed on movie night.”

Max gasps, realization dawning on her. “It is the third time!” 

You glare at him. Damn him for keeping count.

“Can you two relax? I just feel sick today,” You grumble, punching in Robin’s phone number into the computer.

“Bull.Shit.”

“Maxine Mayfield, I’m gonna wash your mouth out with soap!” You threaten, a finger pointed in her direction. She rolls her eyes but before she can respond, Steve speaks up.

“What’s wrong? Is it your head?” He asks. You look up at him and immediately regret it. He’s looking down at you with those chocolate brown eyes and they’re swirling with concern. “Have you been sleeping okay?”

You still for a moment because no, you haven’t been sleeping okay. Actually, you haven’t been sleeping at all.

“I’m fine,” You say quickly. “Can all of you relax? It’s just movie night,”

Steve ignores you. “But you said you were sick. What’s bothering you?”

“See?” El speaks up. “I told you he still liked -,”

“Okay, I’ll go!” You cut her off. She was one word away from completely embarrassing you. “Can everybody lay off now?”

Max and El look pleased enough, Eddie as well but Steve’s look of concern doesn’t disappear. Still, he doesn’t press you on it and you’re grateful.

The rest of your shift is spent carefully avoiding Steve and taking every opportunity to help a customer or stock shelves. You’re painfully aware of how he keeps an eye on you the whole time but he seems to respect your wishes to not talk.

By the time 8PM rolls around, the store is cleaned and ready to be locked up. Steve waits behind you as you lock the door before you both make your way through the parking lot. Three steps into the same direction, you realize he parked right next to you.

Thick tension surrounds you, and you’re silently wishing the birds chirping will be loud enough to make him not talk.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Steve’s voice is low and hesitant. Your heart pinches at that soft tone he carries – it’s something you got so used to but have been deprived of for the last month.

You nod without looking up at him, and pull the strap of your bag closer to your chest. “Everything’s fine,”

He looks torn between asking again or being quiet completely, and he chooses to be quiet.

This is the most you’ve spoken to him since the breakup and it’s even harder than you thought it would be. It’s taking every ounce of self control not to throw yourself into his arms and beg him to hold you. To come back to you and make everything better.

Your ego wins the battle. He didn’t fight for you to stay and hasn’t fought to bring you back either. If anything, he’s proving he prefers being apart from you.

You’ll get there, with time. Hopefully.

You make it to your car and surprising to you, Steve jogs ahead of you to open your car door. You finally look up at him and see him already looking down at you – he has one hand clutched around the handle and the other resting atop the door.

It’s hard looking at him, especially doing something to gentle like opening your door for no reason. Based on the look in his eyes, you’re sure he can see the pain in your eyes.

“Thanks.” You mumble softly and slide into the seat. He doesn’t shut it right away, so you glance up at him.

He takes a deep breath and moves to stand between the car and the open door. Carefully, he bends down to kneel so he’s eye level with you.

Gently, he says your name. “I don’t want you to miss out on things because of me,” He says and your heart sinks.

“I’m not,” You say instinctively. It was a lie and he sees right through you.

“If you’re uncomfortable being around me, I’ll skip out on tonight,”

You sit up, ready to argue that it’s his house and they’re his friends – he shouldn’t have to worry about your feelings. It’s not his responsibility anymore.

But he continues before you have a chance.

“I can find something else to do, it’s really not a problem.”

You frown at his words and your mind immediately goes back to Stacey.

He didn’t say he’d try to be around you, or that he won’t let it get weird – he was offering to leave completely. Maybe this was his way of finding an excuse to go out with her.

Your eyes flick to his arm and you see the faint trace of her phone number still on his skin. He follows your gaze and drops his arm from where it rests on your door.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He says quickly, almost defensively.

Maybe he didn’t. Or maybe he did.

Truthfully, there was no way for you to know. And it wasn’t like you had the right to know either. He wasn’t yours anymore.

When you look back up at him, your face is blank, eyes void.

“You can do whatever you’d like, I won’t make it awkward.” You say simply and Steve’s eyes sadden.

He can tell exactly what you’re doing – steeling yourself off from him and he hates it.

Before he gets the chance, you turn away from him. After sliding the key into the ignition, your hands curl around the steering wheel and you look straight ahead. “I already promised Max and El. I don’t want to let them down,”

He looks at you while you avoid looking at him again. From beside you, you see him nod before standing upright and shutting your door softly.

You don’t waste a second before you’re peeling out of the lot and making your way home, all without even glancing at him again.

Whatever he chooses to do will be on him and has nothing to do with you.

You want to cry – you can feel it about to happen – but you’re so tired of it. Crying and wallowing hasn’t helped you these past few weeks and it’s not about to start now.

Even then, you’re debating just breaking your promise to the girls and staying home. At least then you wouldn’t know if Steve decides to stay home or go do whatever he has planned with whoever.

But you miss your friends, and you’re tired of sitting on Nancy’s couch alone all night and tormenting yourself with your own thoughts.

When you make it home – Nancy’s home – you drag yourself into her apartment and avoid all her questions about how your day was, how it was seeing Steve, if you’re okay.

You give short and simple answers, making sure to skip over the Stacey incident, and tell her you’re going to shower before you leave. She’s happy you’re at least going tonight.

By the time you finish, you showered and changed into more comfortable clothes. You managed to talk yourself off the metaphorical cliff – you’ll stay for one movie and drive separately so you can make an early escape.

You haven’t figured out a way to feel normal once you step back inside his house and when you park on the curb, that feeling of dread consumes you.

You turn the car off but stay sitting for a few seconds as you stare at the house. A month ago, it was your house – your home. Now you’re knocking for someone to let you in. It’s a saddening difference and it just makes you regret coming even more.

You’re five seconds from starting the car and leaving before Nancy knocks on your window, Jonathan next to her. She urges you to get out and you can see the look on her face – the one that’s reading into your every move and it’s obvious she’s worried.

So you gather your things and pull yourself together.

Robin is the one to let you guys in and you glance behind you to see if Steve’s car was in the driveway.

Relief sits heavy in your chest when you see the maroon car.

You follow behind Nancy wordlessly but when you see El peak her head around the corner, Mike lingering next to her, it’s hard to fight your smile – because you really did miss them.

She rushes to you, practically dragging you further into the house and to where she claimed her spot on the floor.

Max and Lucas have their own setup next to El and Mike’s and they’re completely engrossed in their own conversation. Dustin has taken over the recliner on the other side of the room, and Eddie takes the end of the couch closest to him.

Nancy and Jonathan settle into the longer couch, and Robin sits on the obnoxiously big beanbag chair she begged Steve to buy her for Christmas last year.

You still haven’t seen Steve, and you wonder if he did choose to skip out and hide in his room.

You take the chance to look further around the living room. It almost looks like nothing has changed. The furniture is still set up the same way, the color palette is still warm and full.

The posed family pictures he once had with his parents are still replaced with pictures of the group across the room. But when you continue looking around, your heart sinks.

Because all the pictures he had of just you and him are still there.

A picture of you and him at the beach sits on the coffee table. One of you two hugging at graduation hangs on the wall beside the TV. Another one of just you, smiling up at the camera at your birthday two years ago is sitting front and center on the fireplace.

Your throat burns and you feel it begin to tighten. You never really let yourself think of the possibility that he hasn’t moved on either. Leaving of group photos was one thing, but the ones of you both? The one of only you?

It’s all too much and it’s slowly breaking your resolve. It’s only proving the fact that the breakup was all for nothing and if you weren’t so damn prideful, you could’ve fixed it.

Suddenly, Steve emerges from the kitchen with his hands full. He’s holding three different bowls of popcorn and bags of chips and candy tucked into his arms.

Your eyes meet and for just a second, he halts. He looks surprised you actually showed and you don’t blame him. Still, he gives you a half smile and you try your best to mirror it.

Dustin jumps from his spot on the seat and makes grabby hands at the snacks Steve holds. Eddie leans up and helps pass them out and you watch Steve swat Dustin’s hands away as he tries to steal everything.

Beside you, El talks your ear off and you’re eager to welcome the distraction. Otherwise, you would’ve spent the whole night staring at Steve.

Before long, Robin starts the movie and Mike begins to argue with Dustin about being quiet. There’s bickering, and laughing, and food being thrown but it feels nice. Happy even.

Steve ends up settling almost directly behind you on the couch. His elbow sits on the arm rest to his left and your back is directly against the foot of the couch. His legs are almost touching your shoulder. Neither of you say anything.

But even though you’re having a good time and aren’t completely regretting coming, you’re painfully aware of how close Steve is. You can feel the warmth radiating from his skin, the smell of his cologne is almost all you can focus on. Your hand twitches in your lap – begging you to hold onto his ankle and lean your head onto his thigh.

And as you watch the movie, your eyes keep finding the picture of you two at graduation. Steve has you pulled back into his chest, his arms iron clad around you. He’s resting his chin on your shoulder and you’re holding both your diplomas up at the camera. Your shared smiles gleam back at you and it’s enough to make you smile in real time.

It’s also enough to make you sad all over again.

Because it’s not your reality anymore, and you’re not sure it ever will be.

Somehow you end up staying through three movies. By the time credits roll on the last one, everyone is asleep. Mike’s leaning against the wall, his neck bent in a way that’ll leave him with a cramp in the morning, and El’s head resting in his lap.

Max and Lucas are sprawled along the floor across from them, one of his arms tucked under her head. Dustin has his face smushed into a pillow, one arm and one leg hanging off the side of the chair. Eddie is slumped beside him, drool pooling at his mouth.

Robin is curled into a ball on her beanbag chair, quietly snoring. Nancy and Jonathan are curled into each other on their side of the couch. You’re too scared to turn and look at Steve, but he hasn’t moved a muscle in an hour so you’re sure he’s asleep too.

It’s the perfect time to slip out undetected.

Carefully, you push yourself off the floor. It’s a mess around the room and even in a rush, you feel bad just leaving things the way they are. So you grab the bowls and snacks from the coffee table and move towards the kitchen.

“Let me help,”

Steve’s voice startles you so much that you drop the bags of candy to the floor, your palm covering your mouth to minimize the scream ready to slip out.

His eyes widen and he smiles. “Sorry, sorry,”

You exhale and it’s hard not to smile back.

He doesn’t look like he’d been asleep at all, which means he probably just sat there thinking the same thing you were. His hair is a little messy, a few pieces covering his forehead and you’re itching to fix it.

He leans down to pick up the bags and you go back to picking up the cups and bowls. You’re both careful not to wake anyone else as you carry everything to the kitchen.

It’s domestic – the way you fall back into rhythm of cleaning. Steve takes care of the dirty dishes and you begin putting the snacks back into the pantry.

When everything is cleaned, you’re unsure what to do next. At first, you figured you’d clean and leave without having to talk to anyone but now, you’re left alone with only him and he’s looking at you like that again and it’s hard to think properly.

You stand in the middle of the kitchen, facing each other. He has one hand resting on the counter, tapping his finger on the granite. Your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth.

“I, uh, I should go,” You finally say.

“You don’t have to,” He replies easily. “It’s late, you shouldn’t be driving right now,”

You glance at the clock on the stove and it reads back 2:19AM.

He was sweet for offering but it wasn’t far and the last thing you wanted was to prolong the inevitable awkwardness that would come in the morning.

Steve notices your apprehension easily. “You can take the guest room and leave first thing in the morning,”

Your head is screaming at you to say no thank you. To bid him a farewell and get home as quickly as possible. Your heart, however, is begging you to accept and take the chance to be close to him – even just for one night.

And you’re sick of sleeping on Nancy’s couch.

“Okay,” You nod.

His face lights up, a smile covering his mouth. “Okay.” He repeats.

Quietly, he shuts off the lights and TV before setting off upstairs. You follow behind him and when you make it down the hall, you both stop in front of his bedroom door. He turns around to face you.

“Uh, guest rooms right there,” He points at the door across the hall. “Bathroom is just down the hall. Second door on the -,”

“I know,” You cut him off and he nods quickly.

“Right, yeah. Of course,”

It’s awkward to say the least, but it’s not unkind. It’s nice to hear him talk again, even if it’s just telling you where things were.

You stare at each other for a moment. The clock in the hall ticks loudly and you wonder if he can hear how loud your heart is beating.

You break first. “Goodnight, Steve.”

He gives you a soft smile. “Goodnight.”

You enter the room and seconds later, hear his bedroom door click shut.

The guest bedroom is dull. There’s no pictures along the wall, only a painting of a red Cadillac from the 70s. There’s beige curtains covering the window and a matching beige bedspread on the mattress. There’s a small lamp on the bedside table and a desk on the opposite wall.

It’s a drastic contrast from Steve’s bedroom – especially after you helped get rid of his matching striped curtains and wallpaper.

It feels cold and lonely.

But you climb into bed anyway and do your best to stop thinking about how much better you’d sleep with him next to you.

On the other side of the wall, Steve lays on his own bed and feels the same way. His room hasn’t felt like his room since the day you left and now that he knows you’re so close, he’s using all his strength not to climb into bed with you.

He’s spent the last month trying to convince himself if he let you have some space, things would get better and you’d come back to him. To him, it was never a breakup – just a stupid stepping stone in your relationship.

But as the days passed, you pulled further away from him, and next thing he knew, the boys were coming over and packing up your things. He wanted to fight them on it, actually he tried – but then Mike said it was your idea and suddenly everything felt too real.

Maybe he fucked up so bad you were fed up. He thought about showing up to Nancy’s, thought about begging you to come home, but he didn’t want you to feel cornered. So he backed off.

But then he saw the way you reacted when you saw him with Stacey.

It’s not like it meant anything – it took her writing her number on him to realize she was flirting with him, all because he couldn’t stop staring at you. After he tried to talk to you about it, he spent ten minutes in the bathroom trying to scrub it off his skin. And you saw the remnants stained onto his arm later that night.

He didn’t want you to feel jealous or upset over it, he didn’t plan on ever calling her, but a small part inside of him felt relieved you did feel like that. At least you still felt something for him.

And he knew what you were thinking all night as he watched your eyes filter back to the pictures of you two. He didn’t leave them up to prove something, he just couldn’t stand the thought of taking them down. You would always be his, no matter what.

Still, the argument escalated so quickly because of him and he had to make sure if – when – you came back to him, it was on your terms. He wouldn’t rush you.

So he offered the guest room and hoped that would be the first step into forgiveness.

It’s maybe an hour after he’s climbed into bed when he hears the faint sound of .. crying?  

His ears perk up and he leans up on his elbows, turning his head towards the door. He listens for a moment but all he hears is the ticking of the clock.

He thinks he must have imagined it until he hears it again.

It’s still quiet, and easy to miss if he wasn’t already awake, but he can hear it – and it’s familiar.

It’s you.

It’s a cry he’s heard a hundred times over the years. It’s soft, and not the same one that comes from you during a sad movie - it’s fear.

He knows what’s causing it – your nightmares used to be overwhelming but ever since you moved in with him two years ago, they’ve become less frequent. Having him next to you was enough to tether you to reality and comfort you.

But now he hasn’t been there. Have you been dealing with them ever since you left? All the while he’s been making you feel like you should be gone.

His feet are moving before he even has a chance to think – like his body was made with a built in magnetic connected to you. He pulls his door open and pads directly across the hall to your door.

He presses his ear to the door and can hear your crying more clearly. They’re still quiet but they sound more intense now. His hand curls around the handle but then he hesitates.

Should he be the one to comfort you? Should he get Nancy to instead? Would you want him?

When he hears you cry out again, this time louder, he pushes the door open. The light from the hall shines through the doorway and he finds her curled in on yourself, sheets skewed across the bed. He can see you shivering, your brows pulled tight, creasing the beautiful skin of your forehead. He sees your skin is flushed red and your cheeks are stained with tears.

Guilt sits in his chest and without thinking, he’s climbing into bed with you. The mattress dips below his weight and he slides one arm under your head and pulls you from your fetal position so you’re facing him instead. He pulls you into his chest, an arm curled around your shoulders and the other cupping your cheek.

His warmth transfers to you, and as if you were searching for him the entire time, your body instantly relaxes in his hold. Your shaking stops, a soft sigh escapes past your lips, and your hand raises to clutch the fabric of his t-shirt.

You watches the way you bury your face into his chest, the crease between your brows disappears, and he hears the soft melody of your voice.

“Steve..” You don’t say his name as a question – he’s pretty sure you’re still not even awake. It’s relief. Even unconscious, you were given comfort again and you knew with absolute certainty, that comfort was him.

He feels his heart contract in his chest and he tightens his hold on you. “It’s me, baby,” He says softly, lips touching your hairline. “You’re safe, I got you.”

As he holds you in his arms, he knows without an ounce of doubt, he’s never letting go again. Nothing is completely fixed and won’t be overnight but when morning comes, he’s going to tell you exactly this.

He won’t ever let you forget how much he loves you.

When you wake up in the morning, you’re practically shackled to the bed by Steve’s arms. They’re wrapped tightly around your waist and his cheek is resting against the top of your head.

Confusion takes hold of you immediately, but you don’t pull away from his hold. If anything, you burrow yourself deeper into his head but it’s enough to make him stir and groan quietly.

Internally, you’re cursing at yourself for moving even an inch but then his hold tightens around you – if that was even possible. You can feel his head lift from where it rested atop of yours and you hold your breath.

“Hey, you awake?” His morning voice is gruff and it makes your stomach swirl. You hesitate for a second before giving him a timid nod.

“Mhm..”

He pulls his arms apart but only enough to spread his palms over your arms, his thumbs brushing back and forth over your skin.

Silence settles over the room, only the sound of your  breathing and the sound of his heart beating in your ear. It feels normal again.

“You were having a nightmare,” Steve says suddenly and your stomach drops. “Last night. That’s why I came in,”

You sigh softly, eyes squeezing shut from embarrassment.

“I’m-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up,”

Steve shakes his head quickly. “No, don’t apologize. Seriously.” His tone leaves no room for arguing.

You’re both blanketed in silence again but for the first time in weeks, it’s not uncomfortable. The feeling of his arms around you again, your body tucked perfectly against his – it feels warm and safe and grounding.

“Thank you,” You say quietly, fingers tracing shapes over his shirt covered chest.

“You don’t need to thank me either, baby,”

The pet name slips out so casually and your heart splits in two, but you grip his shirt even tighter. Steve picks up on your reaction and gently cups your face, encouraging you to look up at him.

You’re more than sure you look disgusting – bags under your eyes, and they’re probably puffy from crying in your sleep, cheeks flushed pink, hair a tousled mess – but he doesn’t look at you like you do, even for a second.

Steve looks down at you like you hung the fucking moon and stars. It’s intense enough to have you nearly shying away but he holds you firmly in place.

“I’m sorry about everything,” He says and you blink up at him. “This past month without you has been fucking hell. And seeing you last night, I don’t ever want you to deal with that alone.”

Tears well in your eyes almost immediately and when one slips down your cheek, he swipes it away gently.

“I love you so much and I don’t want to spend even another  second without –.” Steve makes a surprise sound when you cut him off by pressing your lips to his.

He recovers quickly, arms pulling you tighter into his chest and kissing you back just as hard. Every ounce of emotion you’ve kept bottled up are poured into this kiss and as he keeps kissing you, he’s gently wiping away the tears falling from your eyes.

When you finally pull away for air, you don’t go far – you rest your forehead against his and smile.

“I don’t want to be without you either.” You whisper softly.

Steve’s smile is bright and he quickly tosses you onto your back before he hovers over you, sweetly attacking your face with more kisses.