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Avengers (og6)

Steve Rogers / Captain America Tony Stark / Iron Man Thor Odinson Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow Bruce Banner / The Hulk Clint Barton / Hawkeye The Avengers

Avengers confirmed for Doomsday

Sam Wilson / Captain America Shang-Chi Scott Lang / Ant-Man Joaquin Torres / Falcon

Avengers not yet confirmed for Doomday and other

Carol Danvers / Captain Marvel Wanda Maximoff / The Scarlet Witch Stephen Strange / Doctor Strange Jennifer Walters / She-Hulk James "Rhodey" Rhodes / War Machine Hope van Dyne / The Wasp The Vision Pietro Maximoff / Quicksilver Scott Lang + Hope van Dyne Wanda Maximoff + Vision

Young Avengers

Kamala Khan / Ms. Marvel Kate Bishop / Hawkeye Cassie Lang / Stature Billy Maximoff / Wiccan Tommy Maximoff / Speed America Chavez Riri Williams / Ironheart

Spider-Verse

Peter Parker / Spider-Man (Tom) Peter Parker / The Amazing Spider-Man (Andrew) Peter Parker / Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man (Tobey) Michelle "MJ" Jones Ned Leeds Mary Jane Watson Gwen Stacy Felicia Hardy / Black Cat

Asgard and TVA

Loki Laufeyson King Valkyrie Jane Foster / Mighty Thor Lady Sif Darcy Lewis Hela Odinsdottir Sylive Laufydottir Mobius M. Mobius Thor Odinson + Jane Foster

Wakanda

Shuri / Black Panther T'Challa / Black Panther Nakia Okoye Namor the Submariner M'Baku Erik Killmonger

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. / Agent Carter

Maria Hill Sharon Carter / Agent 13 / Power Broker Peggy Carter Phil Coulson Daisy Johnson / Quake Melinda May Jemma Simmons Leo Fitz Bobbi Morse / Mockingbird Lance Hunter Alphonso "Mack" Machenzie Elena "Yo-Yo" Rodriguez Deke Shaw Grant Ward Daniel Sousa Edwin Jarvis Dottie Underwood / Black Widow

S.W.O.R.D. and S.A.B.E.R. (and other agents)

Monica Rambeau / Photon Nick Fury Everett Ross

Eternals

Truthfully, you thought he was being a bit of a drama queen. But you weren’t going to tell him that when you were perched on his lap - curled up against him as he ranted on about how Keith was making his job at Family Video harder than it needed to be.

“He’s doing it on purpose too. The asshole wants to torture me into quitting,” Steve huffs.

“That’s so unfair,” you muse, shifting yourself closer to wrap your arms around his neck.

He continues to gripe about Keith being an asshole, Robin egging it on, and the never ending flow of customers who are rude to him.

And you’re trying to listen, really you are. But he’s looking particularly gorgeous today - clad in his light wash jeans that hug his thighs and the cute little polo shirt that peeks out from under his work vest. The first couple of buttons are popped open, exposing a small tuft of chest hair underneath that’s practically begging you to feel him up.

Your eyes wander to his lips as they move rapidly, then to his eyes that look dark brown in the moonlight and hazel in the shine of the daylight. You move on to tracking the unlimited amount of freckles and moles that dance across his skin, the same ones you swear you could count one day if he held still long enough.

God he’s a vision, and you just have to let him know.

“You’re so pretty, Stevie,” you grin, interrupting him mid rant.

Steve raises his eyebrows, “Oh you think so, honey?”

“Mhm,” you hum, pressing your lips along his jawline - giggling when you notice the kiss prints drenching his skin.

“Why’d you stop?” He frowns playfully, arms locking around your waist.

Your thumb rubs at the smudges littering along his jaw, “Lipstick’s getting on you.”

“Don’t wipe it off,” he complains, “I like being marked by you.”

The statement makes you bashful, and you can feel heat creeping up your cheeks.

“You blushing, baby?” He grins, which furthers the flush that you feel rushing to the tips of your ears.

“No,” you mutter, ducking your head.

He pouts, “Oh c’mon, sweet girl, don’t hide from me.”

Steve’s thumb and pointer finger hook under your chin, coaxing you to look at him.

But when you do, there’s something off about him. You can’t tell what it is, but it’s there - like a slight glimmer wavering around him, coating his being in something sickly that you don’t understand.

“Steve?” Your eyebrows furrow, trying to make sense of the image in front of you.

“Don’t hide from me,” his voice turns sour, becoming bitter and dark as it envelops you.

You try to move, desperate for answers, but something is tethering you to him - forcing you to stay still.

“It’s only a matter of time before I find you,” he sneers, face twisting and contorting - human flesh turning into grotesque veins.

You’re no longer in Steve’s living room, cozied up next to him while he frets about his day. Instead, you're in the lap of an all too familiar figure that you’ve been relentlessly trying to run from.

“Let me go!” You scream, fighting with every fiber to break away from his hold.

When it gives, you’re thrust backwards - landing in a puddle of remains, trying not to think too hard about whose they might be.

Your body is heavy, aching with exhaustion as you stare up into the abyss of the world you can’t comprehend, the one you’ve been trapped in since that fateful night Vecna consumed you.

You know you’re a target out in the open like this, a sitting duck for him to hunt down, but you’re tired of resisting - growing weary that you may never return to the physical realm.

And so you let yourself drift, succumbing to sleep from one world of nightmares to the next.

The combination of the bright fluorescent lights, low drum of machines whirring, and strong scent of disinfectant never failed to give Steve a headache.

It throbbed menacingly, a strong stinging sensation that felt like a bruise being poked over and over again - almost like it was warning him that each time he stepped into the miserable place of Hawkins Memorial, he’d be leaving disappointed.

But he would take a headache every damn day of his life if it meant you weren’t the one resting on the hospital bed in front of him.

“C’mon, honey. Need you to pull through this,” Steve mumbles, thumb stroking along the frigid skin of your hand that’s wrapped in his.

You’re unresponsive, as you have been for the past year and a half, and Steve’s never been more anguished than watching each day tick by without a sign that you could hear him.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this without you. Things are,” he sighs heavily, shaking his head, “not great.”

He grasps onto your hand more firmly, threading his fingers through yours and brings your arm to his lips. He tenderly presses kisses to your skin - careful to avoid the needle digging into the tissue underneath your forearm that's connected to an IV drip.

“This quarantine is driving people stir crazy. The crawls keep leading nowhere. And your brother,” he trails off, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

Dustin had been a huge pain in his ass for the past few months. Steve knew the teenager was grieving - knew that he lost a piece of himself when he lost Eddie and couldn’t fathom the idea of having to live in a world without his older sister too. And he knew that Dustin also had far too much pressure thrust upon him than he should at his age.

But your brother was taking it out on Steve - constantly snapping, snarking, and throwing harsh quips his way.

Steve was nearing his boiling point over it - ready to open his mouth and release words of fire that he wouldn’t be able to take back. Each time he almost did so, he was reminded of you.

Reminded that he barely had time to say goodbye before you were ripped away from him, which ultimately always made Steve resist the urge to lob something hurtful back towards Dustin.

So instead of telling your motionless body that your little brother was being a raging prick to him, Steve simply says, “He needs you.”

Steve thinks about the night he lost you often, though it continues to rip open the wound in his heart again and again each time he replays it in his memories.

“You can’t,” Steve had protested.

“I can,” you replied firmly, thumb easing against the little wrinkle that formed over his brow bone.

Steve swallowed thickly, “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you have Nancy and Robin to fight with you. Dustin has Eddie to protect him. But Max and Lucas need one of us. I’m going with them, Steve,” you answered, set in your decision to not leave them behind.

“That wasn’t the plan,” he retorted, gripping your waist tightly.

“It wasn’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t let them go alone,” you countered.

Steve felt his throat tighten, felt the familiar sting of tears threatening to fill his eyes, “I don’t want you to leave me.”

“Steve,” you cupped his face, fingers splaying out gently along the expanse of his neck, “I need you to trust me.”

“I do trust you, but I’m scared. You said it yourself, this time is different. Heavier. One of us might not make it out of this, and it cannot be you,” he implored, reaching up to grasp lovingly at your wrists.

You took a deep breath, “Steve, I love you, and-.”

He shook his head, cutting you off, “No. No, don’t do that to me. Don’t act like this is goodbye.”

“But it could be,” you whispered, “and I need you to know that you’ll be fine without me if something does happen.”

Steve scoffed at the thought, “I would never be the same without you.”

“You’d have to try. For Dustin. For me,” you leaned in, pressing your forehead to his.

He closed his eyes, let his hands slide down to your elbows - tried to ground himself in the moment, because if it truly was the last time he touched you, then he wanted to soak in your presence - bathe himself in these tiny pieces of yourself you were giving him before you were gone.

And when Steve heard the four chimes of that fucking clock a couple hours later, he thought Max was a goner - didn’t realize he was the one that would be brought to his knees at the sight of you, broken and bloody in her arms.

Steve still can’t shake Dustin’s cries that night - had to watch him scream his lungs out over Eddie dying before he repeated the same devastating noise at the sight of you.

He hears it in his nightmares, hears the screeching of the demobats, hears the own strangled sound of despair he let out when he saw you lying lifelessly in the aftermath of the battle.

The steady beep of your heart monitor drags Steve out of the horrific things that plague his mind, trying to focus back in on the sight of you in front of him - not moving, but at least you’re breathing.

“I need you,” he admits brokenly, forehead dropping down to rest against your thigh.

His palm lands against your knee, thumb brushing lazily over the thin material of the white cotton blanket that covers you.

“Please, honey. If you can hear me at all, find a way to show me,” he begs, feeling an overwhelming amount of agony from the lack of your reply.

A light knock at the door makes him look up to see Robin poking her head in, lifting her fingers in a brief wave to announce her presence.

She tentatively walks across the room towards Steve, quietly taking a seat next to him. She knows better than to ask if anything has changed at this point, and Steve finds her silence sickening, because god when Robin is silent - it meant that she thought things were bad.

“Steve,” she eventually says, placing a hand on his back.

He makes a rapt noise of recognition for her, but doesn’t take his longing eyes off of you - admiring your beauty even in the dullness that’s taken over your features from being stagnant for so long.

“When was the last time you showered?” Robin probs, no judgment in her tone - just pure concern for the well being of her friend.

“Dunno,” he mumbles desolately.

“Go home,” she presses, “take care of yourself. You know she’d be heartbroken if she saw you wallowing like this.”

Steve hates that she’s right, but still doesn’t move from his spot, “I don’t wanna leave her alone.”

“She won’t be alone. I’ll stay with her. Plus, I brought another visitor,” Robin tilts her head to the hallway, silently insinuating whoever came with her is out there.

“Dustin?” He questions.

Robin nods softly, “Yeah. The little twerp insisted he come today. Said he had a feeling she might wake up soon.”

“God, I hope so,” Steve admits.

“Me too,” she agrees quietly.

They sit in silence for a few minutes before he sighs, untangling himself from you before standing up.

“Gonna go home and freshen up, then I’m coming right back,” Steve declares while heading for the door.

Dustin’s leaning against the wall when Steve exits, “No updates?”

Steve closes his eyes briefly, disappointment washing over him at the question, “No. You doing okay, man?”

Dustin shrugs noncommittedly, “Could be better.”

“Yeah, same,” Steve replies dully.

He misses his friendship with the boy, hates the strained riff that hangs over their heads.

And he misses you. Misses how you could mediate things between the two of them. He often finds himself wondering if you never come to, if things will ever return to the way they once were between himself and your brother.

He places a soothing hand on Dustin’s shoulder, “I’m stepping out for a bit. Call me if you need me.”

Dustin nods solemnly, not bothering to bid Steve goodbye before walking into your room.

You wake up to the sound of Steve begging, watching as he clings to your frail body.

Please, honey. If you can hear me at all, find a way to show me.

His voice rings in your ears, the statement a loud roar echoing through your brain, but the sound of it is ripped away when you see the clouds beginning to shift - covering the vision in the hazy red of the sky.

“Steve!” Your throat feels raw from screaming his name, pleading for him to return to you.

You’ve lost track of how many times reaching him has been at the tips of your fingers, only for the illusion to fade - like a carpet being yanked from under you with nowhere soft to land.

Tears stream down your face as you frantically spin around, praying that you could see him one more time.

“No, please, no,” you cry, stumbling over a gnarled root that sticks out from the ground.

You land harshly on your knees, hands cutting open from the fall - nauseated by the blood that starts to seep out.

You squeeze your eyes shut, “It’s not real. It’s not real.”

The phrase is what keeps you going - playing on repeat because you know that your physical body is intact, have seen it when that blissful image of Steve appears in the thunderous clouds above you.

You’ve watched him hopelessly for months now, maybe longer, but time has been too hard to keep track of in this prison world that Henry has locked you away in. You’ve been hiding from him - somehow finding holes in his mind, and he lets you linger in pockets of memories that he won’t enter.

It feels like he’s toying with you sometimes, willing to let you go if you can play his game and find the way out. But as each day passes, you find it harder to distinguish what’s tangible and what’s not - slowly dwindling into madness.

The only thing keeping you from spiraling completely has been the glimpses of moments with Steve that flash in brief seconds before withering away.

You can feel one starting to creep into the crevices of your brain; the time you admitted you saw a future with him.

You were at Lover's Lake, watching the sun set across the horizon - fading into faint pinks and oranges as it drifted down.

The two of you were lounging on the hood of Steve’s Beamer, basking in the warmth of the summer evening - listening to the chittering of nightlife taking over.

Steve was leaning backwards, extending his legs to let your head rest on his lap, and his hand was combing gently through your hair.

“You’ve been quiet for a while, Stevie,” you mumbled, eyes growing heavy in content from his fingers working at your scalp.

“Hmm,” he hummed softly, eyes flickering towards you.

“I wanna know what you’re thinking about,” you rolled over, allowing yourself to look up at him.

If you could burn the image of him behind your eyelids you would, because the look on his face was one of pure adoration - staring in awe of your radiance.

“When I was younger, my parents would take me here during the summer,” he moved his thumb to brush gingerly along your jaw.

“Yeah?” You prompted, curious to know where he was going with that lead.

“Yeah. They were always distracted though. They’d be giving each other the silent treatment after an argument, or they were too focused on worrying about appearances in front of other families. Forced me to get really good at being creative since I didn’t have anyone to play with,” he continued, letting his index finger skim over the delicate skin under your eyes.

“There had to have been other kids there,” you remarked.

He shrugged, “There were, but uh, if you can believe it, I was kind of shy back then.”

Your heart faltered at the thought of him being a child and feeling the weight of being left out, even if it wasn’t intentional.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, curling a hand into the fabric of his shirt.

“Don’t be. It made me realize that I won’t ever let my kids have to experience that,” he mused.

Your breath hitched, “Your kids?”

“Well, our kids. They’d have each other at least and-,” Steve cut himself off after realizing what he revealed.

His eyes squeezed shut, and he pinched the bridge of his nose in embarrassment, “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

You watched him internally panic for a second, before pushing yourself up so you could relieve the tension that you saw settling over his shoulders.

“Hey,” you started, pressing a reassuring hand against his thigh.

“That was stupid, forget it,” he groaned, dragging a hand roughly down his face.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” You refuted.

“You mean it?” He asked timidly.

You crossed your legs underneath you and wrapped a hand around his bicep.

“I’ve thought about it too,” you admitted.

His eyes grew glassy as he let out a sharp breath of disbelief through his nose, “Seriously?”

You released a quiet laugh, “Of course. I know we’re young, but I see a future with you, Steve. And I can’t see myself having any of it - kids, marriage, whatever it may be - if you’re not there with me.”

“Fuck, I think I’m falling in love with you,” he confessed.

You let your eyelids flutter closed - nose nudging his, “It’s about time, Harrington. Because I know I’m falling in love with you.”

Steve slotted his lips with yours, no longer able to hold himself back from proving to you the unadulterated affection he has for you - capturing your mouth hungrily in swift, greedy presses to emphasize his appreciation.

You pulled back just a fraction, “Plus, we’ve got practice carting Dustin around. He’s kind of like our trial run, isn’t he?”

Steve laughed against your mouth, giddily pressing his lips against yours until you were light-headed with want.

The memory jolts something within you, like numb limbs gaining strength after falling asleep, and suddenly you can see it; the picture of yourself opening up in front of you, nearly paces away.

A sudden burst of sentences reverberates throughout the inner workings of your being.

Fight for Dustin. For me.

I need you, honey. We all need you.

I can’t do this without you, baby.

Please, come back to me.

It’s the last one, spoken so rawly by your lover that it spurs you on, forces you to move your feet from a trudge to a sprint - recognizing that this moment is critical, the one that could change the tides and tip the scale towards your loved ones victory against the sinister world you’ve been bound in.

There’s only one name that echoes inside of you as you get closer to a taste of the world - the real one, the one that you’ve been separated from for far too long - and it’s Steve.

Steve.

Steve.

Steve.

Steve throws his keys on the kitchen counter, scrubbing his hands over his eyes, pressure building from yet another day without you waking up.

He leans against the cold surface, back digging into the granite as his eyes find the coffee cup that sits idle by the sink. It was your favorite to use when you spent the night at his place, and there’s a faint lipstick stain that’s wrapped around the rim - dust collecting inside the unwashed dish.

Steve can’t help but feel haunted by the ghost of you in his own home.

He lets himself pretend through the fragments of you he has left, because he’s starting to forget what your voice sounded like, what your touch felt like, what it felt like to be looked up and down by you when he wore your favorite yellow sweater of his. The same one he was wearing when you recognized that you were in love with him. Which was now gone, and yet another torturous reminder of his loss.

It’s why the coffee cup sits untouched, why he can’t sleep on your side of the bed, why he can’t bring himself to wash the last t-shirt you slept in. He swears there’s lingering traces of your perfume wafting through the air sometimes from it.

He imagines you dancing in the emptiness of his living room, twirling in his arms because if he lets himself sink into reality; he fears it means accepting that he’s lost you, that there’s no hope for you to return to him.

The first thing you notice when you come to is the darkness that reigns behind your eyelids. You can feel your muscles twitching, aching to move, but your body is not cooperating with the messages that your brain is signal firing.

You hear a sharp intake of breath, feel the warm press of someone’s hand slip into yours, the scrap of a chair indicating they’re moving closer.

The familiar rumble of your little brother’s voice infiltrates the room.

“Dusty?” You slur, tongue feeling heavy from not being used.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he squeezes your hand.

“Where, w-,?” You stutter, feeling an aggravating pain shoot through your vocal chords.

“Hey, take it slow. It’s been a while since you’ve talked,” Dustin reprimands.

“Steve,” you whisper, voice cracking - desperate to know where he is, eyes in a flurry of movement from trying to peel open.

Dustin slowly swims into your gaze, though it’s still blurry, and the intensity of the lights shining in your eyes causes streaks to glide across the room.

Another head comes into frame, and you recognize Robin’s voice before you can even see her clearly.

“Holy shit, Henderson. You’re awake,” she squeals, making your face pinch up in a wince.

“Robin,” Dustin seethes.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just so good to see you moving. Harrington’s going to be beside himself,” she says eagerly, voice lowering significantly.

At the mention of your boyfriend, you try to fight against the lethargy that’s taken over your body.

“Steve, I need Steve,” you croak, feeling like cotton’s been shoved in your mouth with how dry it is.

Robin jumps out of her seat, “I’ll call him.”

“Can you get the nurse after?” Dustin asks, and she nods her head before swiftly exiting the room.

You try to force yourself into a sitting position, wiggling around in frustration at the fact that you can’t seem to control your body.

Dustin places his hands on your shoulders, “You’ve been immobile for a long time. You need to stop before you hurt yourself.”

“Dustin, I need Steve,” you repeat, tears quickly filling your lash line.

“Wow, not even a hi for your favorite brother?” He jokes, reaching out to brush a stray tear of yours away with his knuckle.

“I’m so sorry, Dusty,” your head starts to clear, fog disappearing - realizing your only brother is the one here for you, and all you can think about is Steve.

“It’s okay. I just missed you, you know?” His throat constricts, leaning forward on his knees.

“I missed you too,” you utter, giving him a small smile.

Dustin catches you up to speed on the things you’ve missed - Eddie passing, Hawkins splitting open, El returning, searching for Vecna, and the list goes on.

“Steve brought me out of this. I don’t know how, but he did,” you murmur once he’s finished.

“That doesn’t surprise me. He’s been hovering over you nonstop. Usually isn’t gone for more than an hour at a time if he can help it,” Dustin grins.

“Really?” Your smile wobbles, heart swelling at the thought of him waiting for you.

“Yeah, he,” Dustin pauses, because it was once hard for him to believe his next words, “he really loves you.”

It’s then that the nurse comes in, paging for a doctor before hustling over towards you.

“It would be helpful if you stepped out so we could run some evaluations on her,” she instructs him politely.

“No way. I’m not leaving her,” Dustin scowls.

“It’s okay, Dusty. I’m okay. Just, get Steve for me, please?” You request weakly.

He sighs at your insistence, “If you need anything, have someone get me. Robin and I will be in the hallway.”

Robin frowns when she sees him step out of your room, “He’s not picking up.”

“He’s probably on his way back,” Dustin guesses.

The two of them sink into the chairs that line the hallway, feeling antsy at the span of time without being able to check in with you.

Finally the doctor leaves, sharing some brief updates about the stability of your condition - leaving to contact Claudia Henderson, who no doubt will be making her way to the hospital in record time when she hears the news.

Dustin stands, stretching out his arms, and Robin immediately seizes his hand - lugging him to crouch behind a medical cart that just happens to be big enough to hide them.

“Robin, what the hell?” Dustin yelps, and she swiftly covers his mouth with her hand.

She points down the hall towards Steve, who’s rounding the corner.

“Why are we hiding from Steve? We want him to know,” Dustin slaps her hand away.

“Because if we run into him, I’m gonna blabber about it and don’t you think it’ll be better for him to find out on his own?” She quips back, gesturing at the melancholy look on her best friend's face.

Dustin gives a hesitant pause, but ultimately concedes, “Yeah, guess you’re right. But I call spying on them from the doorway.”

Robin rolls her eyes, “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Steve’s perfected the route to your room where he’ll avoid running into nurses that like to give him looks of pity each time he shows up.

He first stops by the vending machines to grab himself a shitty coffee and a snack for you. It’s a habit he can’t put down, buying something for you despite the fact that you can’t eat it right now.

There’s a whole box full of items that sits untouched in your hospital room - overflowing with expired food at this point, but Steve doesn’t have the heart to throw them out.

He trods up the back staircase, avoiding eye contact with anyone who could possibly stop him and ask where he was headed. Finally, he stops by your door which is now closed - probably Dustin’s doing he assumes, who likes to claim it keeps the noise level to a minimum. The walls are paper thin not matter what, but Steve doesn’t have the energy to debate him on it.

He swings the door open, and starts to chatter, which is his typical routine when he’s visiting you.

“Well, honey, I got you the regular M&M’s today. They were out of the peanut ones. Can you believe that shit? What kind of establishment runs out of the best type of-,” Steve’s rambling is cut off when he walks into your room and sees you, sitting up - on your own.

The coffee in Steve’s hands crashes to the floor, black liquid seeping across the vinyl flooring - soaking into the bottom of his jeans and coating his Nike shoes with the maroon swoops, arguably having just ruined his favorite pair, but it’s the least of his concerns.

His jaw drops in disbelief, blinking rapidly to decide if you were a figment of his imagination, wondering if his brain is making you up due to sleep deprivation.

“Hi Stevie,” you rasp, wishing you could throw yourself at him.

Steve’s frozen, planted on the spot he’s standing in, because hearing your voice - the same one that he swore he might’ve been forgetting - has just bloomed out of you, flooding his brain as it ricochets around the room.

“Steve,” you whimper, can’t help but let out a breathy sob at seeing him just a handful of feet in front of you.

The whine that escapes you knocks him back into motion, practically skidding through the spilled coffee and kneeling down by the edge of your bed - legs digging into the hard floor.

“Am I dreaming?” He asks, hands reaching out to you - stopping himself from touching you because he’ll surely be wrecked to find that none of this is real.

You smile faintly, “I don’t think so.”

Steve carefully lets his fingers glide across your palm, and when your fingers twitch - feebly curling around his own for the first time in ages, he can’t help but let the tears track down his face which sets off your own.

“God, I can’t believe you’re real. And here. How are you here?” His lips part, uncertainty still keeping him at bay.

You’re not ready to disclose the torture you’ve been through, so you simply lock your fingers through his and plead, “Hold me?”

Steve’s mouth flounders, letting himself finally believe he hasn’t somehow conjured up a replica of you, “Course I can, honey. C’mere.”

He scooches himself onto the bed, maneuvering your body to rest against him - back pressed to his chest, head tucked under his chin while his arms wrap tightly around you.

“I’m so sorry,” he groans, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, honey.”

“It’s okay, Steve,” you try to reassure him.

“No, I knew not to leave you today. Dustin had a feeling you'd come back to us soon. Little shit is always right,” he grumbles, hating himself for not being there.

Fragile laughter bubbles up within you, “He always is, isn’t he?”

“God, I’m so sorry,” he cries, tucking his face into the crook of your neck.

“Steve,” you tilt your head back just a fraction, the best you can do for now, “you have nothing to be sorry for, baby. I know you’ve been here every day.”

“Because I knew you’d come back to me,” he tenderly dots kisses to the back of your neck.

“And I knew you wouldn’t give up on me,” you murmur, sniffling as you feel the pressure behind your eyelids build again.

“Never,” his voice is warm, laid bare with honesty.

Steve continues to grace you with his devotion, mapping your body with his hands, and it’s intimate in a way you’ve never experienced with him before.

“Can’t believe you’re here,” he repeats himself, letting the phrase hang between you two as he continues to lavish you - nose grazing your jawline, lips attaching sweetly under your ear before catching the corner of your mouth.

You suddenly feel the wet droplets that roll down his pretty face and land on the slope of your collarbone, making you itch to wipe his tears away. You try your best to shift, but no matter how much effort you put into it, you can’t get your body to move, which makes you grunt in irritation.

“What’s wrong? Does something hurt, honey?” He implores.

You bite your lip in annoyance at not being able to comfort him, “No. It’s just, I can’t move yet, and you're crying.”

Understanding ripples across his expression - knowing you're aching to provide him solace. He brings your hand up to his cheek, guiding your fingers to wipe swiftly under his eyes, along the highs of his cheekbones, before trailing down to catch the tears that puddle under his jaw.

It’s messy, but a reminder that you’re miraculously here in his arms.

“I love you,” he rasps, inhaling sharply - still in astonishment that you haven’t slipped away yet, that you haven't dissolved like ice melting under the ray of the burning sun.

And when Dustin and Robin sneakily slide in the room later, pretending like they weren’t on the verge of crying themselves, giving you the space to open up about what you’ve experienced, Steve continues to keep you grounded - unwilling to let you go, declining the notion of letting you go for even a moment, because he’ll be damned if he has to dance with the ghost of you again.

well, this started as a part two to they don’t know about us because i had some requests for that, but it just didn’t feel the same. hence why there’s hints of similarities if you’ve read that imagine!

Divider credits to @lobster-graphics

Main Masterlist If interested

JKC Taglist: @pepsipoet @pr33tygirlavenue @miahslt91 @sparklydelusionearthquake @cuddlyeren @beth-mirrorball @ann-aatn @oliviaharrington

Dating with Steve Harrington was bliss, it truly was. He was a kind man, always a loyal gentleman. He was protective and was always there for you – physically and emotionally. He was funny and so incredibly charming.

By definition, he was the perfect man.

But with all of his perfections, he had one singular flaw. His stubbornness.

Steve Harrington was as hard headed as a brick wall.

And you? Well, you could almost give him a run for his money.

Any normal day for you two was loving. Except for today.

Today, Steve seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. He claimed you hogged the blankets all night, even though it was his monster feet who kicked them to the floor.

At first it felt like tired bickering. Once the sleep washed away from him and he got a little bit of food in his tummy, all would be well.

Wrong.

At breakfast, you argued about who’s turn it was to do the dishes. You told him everything in the sink was left by him the night before – he argued that your name was next on the chore list.

You argued about how he forgot to make the coffee for the morning. He argued that you could’ve done it too – even though he’s always done it.

You argued over his misplaced keys. Over what time Nancy said to meet at the station. Over who gets to drive – this one was entirely your fault considering you don’t even like to drive, but he was really pissing you off.

The car ride there was spent with your arms crossed tight and your legs tucked into the passenger door – away from his touch – and his fingers gripping the wheel so tight, his knuckles whitened. By the time you two made it into the station, you both angrily agreed not to talk to each other.

It’s pettiness and stress masked as arguments about nothing. The tension between you two was palpable and the group picks up on it quickly.

You’re all standing around the common room, ready to disperse into your own jobs. You and Steve always go with Dustin to monitor Hopper – leaving everyone else back at the station to take care of things.

You’re dreading the idea of sitting in the pre-existing  tension between Steve and Dustin, and it doesn’t help the fact that you’re now arguing with him too.

You move to grab your jacket when he speaks up.

“Not you.” Steve says, his voice firm but cold. You blink up at him. “Byers is taking your spot tonight,”  

You laugh incredulously. “Wha – Jonathan?”

He nods down at you, zipping up his own jacket. “He knows how to handle the navigation,”

Your face pinches at his answer. “So do I,”

Steve avoids your eyes as he gathers the rest of his things. It’s not because of shame or fear, but from annoyance. “Do you?”

Your eyes narrow and you can feel the fury bubbling in your chest. “Do I?” You repeat. “You know what Steve, you really have to get over whatever bug crawled up your ass today, alright? You’re acting like –.”

Steve cuts you off before you can finish.

“No, do you know what?” He slams his walkie down on the cushion of the couch. When his eyes meet yours, they’re dark and clouded. There’s not a trace of patience or love in them and for a moment, that scares you. “This isn’t about you. Who knows how many more chances we’re gonna get if this goes wrong and the last thing I need is you fucking up the navigation. So for once, I need you to listen to what I’m saying and quit nagging me, alright?”

Everything around you seems to still.

All that you can focus on is the irritation covering your boyfriends face and for the first time, maybe ever, it’s all aimed at you. For whatever reason, he seems to think you’re the root cause of his sour mood today.

So what if you don’t have the best track record with reading the map? Steve’s lived in his town his entire damn life, he should know the streets by now.

It’s not just frustration you feel anymore. Now it’s shame and insecurity and embarrassment. Shame because apparently, you nag him enough for him to remember. Insecure because you couldn’t even guess how long he’s been holding this in. And embarrassed because everyone around you has also stilled – now staring at the two of you like you’re a pair of animals in a cage.

That thought angers you even more.

Your jaw clenches so hard you can almost hear your teeth grinding against each other and you can feel the way your nails dig into the skin of your palms as a way to calm yourself down.

Steve stares back down at you and after a beat of silence, he seems to register exactly what he said. His eyes flutter shut and he sighs, raising his hand to gently grasp your hand.

Your face is steel as you take a step back before he can reach you. You won’t cause a scene and you also won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he hurt you just now.

“You should go then.” You tell him. He grimaces at your cold tone and makes no move to leave.

He says your name gently. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just – just come with and we can –.”

You cut him off this time. “No thanks, I wouldn’t want to fuck up the navigation again.”

Steve’s shoulders deflate when you echo his earlier words.

It looks like he’s ready to say something else but before he can, you’re spinning on your heels and downstairs to the basement to meet with Joyce at the intercom. You can feel his eyes following you as you disappear but not once do you turn or falter.

It didn’t matter what was causing his sudden attitude change. You were done trying to be empathetic and understanding. He wasn’t about to use you as an emotional punching bag – if he didn’t want to be around you then you would give him that.

It’s hours later when Steve finally arrives back at the station. In that time, his voice cracked over the intercom a few times with updates about movements and any military activity. Each time you ignored the pang in your chest and let Robin respond.

The crawl ended up being just another tally mark under the dead end section and you all began to filter home, completely defeated.

Steve didn’t offer any words as you climbed into the car together, but neither did you. It was still tense but not as tense as when he left. His foul mood is still obvious but it’s no longer white hot anger. It gives you a little bit of hope.

When you finally make it home, it’s after 10. He still hasn’t spoken to you but he lets you shower first, and you take the opportunity to try and get rid of your own anger.

You weren’t sure if he really cared it wasn’t your voice he was hearing. It didn’t seem like he cared about your absence in the van, but then again it wasn’t the focus of the night. His earlier words rang in your head.

It’s not about you.

Yet here you were, making it about you.

You’re smart enough to realize his blow up had little to do with you. It was a culmination of stress of the crawls, stress from his newly strained relationship with Dustin, stress from everything. You were just the only constant in his life and it seemed like you were the best thing to take it out on.

It doesn’t make it right, but at least you understand.

Still, you’re annoyed at the very least.

But you two have made a promise years ago – to never fall asleep mad and with the way exhaustion is clawing at you, you’re ready to climb into bed and apologize for arguing all day. It’s nothing a few sweet words and a few more sweeter kisses can’t fix and the more you think about it, the more you crave it.

Fighting with Steve was one of your least favorite things in the world.

You quickly clean your mess in the bathroom and change for bed but when you step out of the bathroom and into your shared room, you freeze.

It’s not the darkness or the quietness that stops you. It’s the fact that Steve is already on his side of the bed, his back turned towards your side and asleep.

That asshole actually fell asleep.

You stand there, five feet away from him, in complete disbelief. It was his stupid idea to promise that and he’s the one who broke it first.

Your newly dissolved anger reignites and this time, it’s scorching. You have to fight the urge to abuse him with your pillow as you look at his sleeping frame. You’ve spent the last few hours trying to think of ways to make up with him and he’s just sleeping.

Your body is tense as you finally climb into bed. You make it a point to leave as much distance between your bodies you can without falling off the bed.

Steve is unmoving as you settle on your side and it angers you even more.

Now it’s not just the arguments from today. It’s everything.

It’s the arguing, it’s his careless words from earlier, it’s the coldness you’ve been getting from him all day, it’s the short temper he’s met you with.

You feel small and almost like you mean nothing to him. It’s a stretch considering all he actually did was fall asleep but damnnit, it’s the principle of it all.

Before you know it, tears are slipping from your eyes and soaking the pillow beneath your cheek. You bite your lip to keep the sounds as muffled as possible because the last thing you want is for him to see you cry.

For the first night in your entire relationship, you don’t want to be anywhere near him.

You’re not sure how much time passes when you finally stop crying.

You feel pathetic for it but it’s not out of sadness – because he didn’t hurt your feelings (he did) – it’s because you’re just frustrated about the whole thing.

He’s laid beside you, peaceful and still as he lets his body loosen and forget all its troubles. All the while, you’ve been lying here crying.

There hasn’t been a second where your frustration has even slightly dwindled. Instead, it keeps building and your exhaustion isn’t helping matters.

The sound of Steve’s slow and even breathing behind you is enough to make you break. You don’t take a second to rethink things before you’re shoving the blankets off of you and snatching your pillow in one hand.

You trudge into the darkness downstairs and throw your pillow against the couch. You pull the blanket that rests over the back cushion and settle into the couch.

It’s achingly lonely down here but somehow it feels better than trying to stay beside Steve. You know you’ll wake up in an even worse mood because of how uncomfortable the couch is. The cushions are lumpy, it’s almost too short for your body, it’s colder down here without the warmth of Steve comforting you.

Still, you force yourself comfortable and take another chance at sleep.

Upstairs, Steve’s subconscious has him flipping over in his sleep and his arms instinctively reach out for you. His hand slides across your side of the bed, ready to grab your waist and pull you into his chest but he feels nothing.

His eyes flutter open at the feeling of emptiness beneath his palm. It takes him a few seconds to adjust to the darkness of the room but when he finally does, he sees your side of the bed is empty and cold.

He leans up on his elbow then, taking a quick glance at the bathroom but the light is off and the door is shut. He scans the rest of the room but is met with nothing. It doesn’t really register for him until he realizes your pillow is also gone.

He feels his stomach twist with nerves before he pulls himself out of bed.

His feet pad against the hardwood floor of your shared home as he makes his way out of the bedroom. The rest of the house is quiet and dark – he almost worries you left entirely.

He makes his way down the steps, into the living room and that’s when he finally sees you.

Steve feels guilt hit him like a truck when he sees your small frame squished uncomfortably on the couch. You’re lying on your side, knees curled into your chest and a small throw blanket covering your body.

He hates seeing you like this and even more, he hates being the cause of it. He knows without a doubt it’s his fault. He knew what he said earlier was cruel and completely uncalled for – and he didn’t blame you for a second when you chose not to talk to him over the radio.

When he got back and saw how angry you still were, he felt like the best thing to do was give you space. He’d been blowing up over the tiniest things all day, the least he could do was give you time to yourself.

So when he climbed into bed, it wasn’t to break his promise – it actually wasn’t even on his mind. He just didn’t want to overwhelm or upset you even more.

Obviously that was the wrong choice.

His feet pull him towards you and he bends down so he can lift you up. He carefully pulls the blanket from you and slides one arm beneath your neck. He’s ready to slide the other under your knees when you begin to stir.

Your head turns, lashes fluttering against the skin of your cheeks as you try to focus on what woke you up. There’s a softness in your eyes, one personally reserved for your boyfriend and he feels his heart ache at the sight.

But just as fast as it appeared, it’s gone when you blink.

You pull away from his hold and Steve lets his arms fall to his sides.

“What?” Sleepiness laces your voice but he picks up on the anger beneath it.

He swallows and kneels beside the couch so he’s eye level with you. “Come back to bed,” He whispers.

“I’m comfortable here,” You lie easily. Your hands grab the blanket at your feet and pull it back up to cover yourself, just before you shift to turn away from him.

Steve stares at the back of your head for a moment, immediately missing the sight of your beautiful face.

“Baby..” He sighs. He’s ready to argue more but you cut him off.

“I don’t want to sleep next to you, Steve.” Your voice is detached and cold.

His heart cracks at your response.

His ego tells him to walk away. To leave you to deal with your temper tantrum and to enjoy the bed to himself.

He’s never ignored a thought so quickly.

“Then let me sleep on the couch. You go to bed, babe,” He offers softly.

Your anger aimed at him and your exhaustion has you groaning into the air. You twist your head just enough to face him.

“Just forget it, Steve. I want to sleep.”

Steve feels his own stubbornness filter back. “I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.” He says your name firmly – like a parent scolding a child.

You glare at him, your eyes so dark, there may as well be daggers shooing out of them.

“Why not? You were sleeping so peacefully a few minutes ago. Go back and do it again,” You huff before turning your head to face the cushion again.

Steve’s jaw clenches, not from anger but from more guilt. He never wanted to make you feel like this – like you didn’t matter.

Carefully, he moves to sit on the couch with you. You grumble something like go away but he ignores it. He brings his hand up to cup your cheek, and you try to pull away but his hold is firm.

“I’m sorry, baby,” He whispers, his thumb stroking over the apple of your cheeks. It’s a little damp and sticky from your earlier tears you didn’t even bother to wipe away. He watches the way you avoid his gaze and the way your jaw ticks. “I shouldn’t have spent all day arguing with you, and I definitely shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I was pissed off about these crawls and the way Henderson’s been acting lately and I took it out on you,” His voice is so soft and gentle – it’s a dangerous contrast to how he spoke earlier. “You didn’t deserve that, baby and I’m sorry.”

Your eyes gloss over again at his apology and you can slowly feel your resolve break. You’re so tired and all you want is to wrap yourself in his arms again.

But you’re still pissed.

“I’m not your punching bag, Steve.” You say firmly. There’s a hint of a waver in your tone but he doesn’t catch it. He nods, his eyes sad and regretful.

“I know you’re not,”

“And you don’t get to take it out on me every time you’re pissed off.”

He nods again. “I won’t, I promise.”

Your eyes narrow, but it’s not as angry this time. “And you’re not allowed to go to bed without me again.”

Steve breaks a smile at your words but quickly tries to cover it, worried you’re not ready to joke with him again. It technically was meant to be lighthearted but the sentiment was serious.

“I’ll stay awake forever if you asked me too, baby,” He responds, his hand gently stroking your skin.

You roll your eyes at his theatrics, but he doesn’t miss the ghost of a smile on your lips.

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss. He doesn’t try to deepen it – just lets you both feel the other close and intimate. When he pulls away, he leans his forehead against yours. “I really am sorry, baby.” He whispers.

You nod gently. “I know,” You bring your own palm up to his cheek this time and he plants a kiss to your palm before letting himself lean onto your hold.

It’s quiet for a few seconds as you hold each other before you speak up.

“Can you carry me to bed now?” You breathe out, a smile plastered across your face. Steve grins down at you and within seconds, you’re in his arms bridal style. You gasp in surprise from his swiftness and he’s easily carrying you up the stairs.

There was a time your designated spot was shoulder to shoulder, fingers intertwined, with Steve and now you stand on complete opposite sides of the room without a single second or eye contact – it almost felt like a piece of you had be taken away.

Actually, that’s how you felt ever since the breakup.

Your relationship with Steve came almost suddenly. You were in the same grade, you practically grew up together, but never actually interacted in school. Until senior year and he broke up with Nancy and the kid you babysat ran to you for help after his new pet alien ate his cat.

A strange friendship formed between you, Dustin and Steve but it was something real. Even when the younger kid wasn’t around, you and Steve became glued to each other. Where he went, you followed and when you moved, he moved.

What started as platonic quickly morphed into romantic.

He’d changed so much from the popular boy in high school and became someone softer. He still had that same charm and personality, but he tried to let go of all the superficial things he used to cling to.

A part of you felt like maybe he’d never get over Nancy but after those months together, everything else except you and him disappeared. The two of you were together for eight months before you both started working at Scoops and then you were thrown into a whirlwind of more aliens and evil Russian soldiers.

Fighting off Demodogs with Steve at the junkyard and in the tunnels was scary enough – more scary than either of you would actually admit – but watching Steve get nearly beaten half to death and taking a few blows of your own? That was different.

You still had a scar across your cheekbone from the back of a guard’s gun after you mouthed off one too many times.

What should’ve been a time when the two of you really leaned on each other, almost like a trauma bond, Steve vanished. It was small at first – he would cancel on plans, he started calling less and less, he’d give you vague excuses for his sudden absence. You could feel it in your bones, the way he was slowly pulling away.

At first, you thought maybe he was just having a tough time moving past things. After all, he’d gotten the brunt of the soldiers anger and he had the bruises to prove it. But it wasn’t just temporary space he wanted and two weeks after the Battle of Starcourt, Steve broke up with you. Over the phone.

Devastated couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt. You tried to reason with him, even begged him not to do it, but he was firm. He insisted you two weren’t right for each other and there was ‘no point in prolonging the inevitable.’ He was clear in what he didn’t say – he didn’t love you anymore and honestly, you weren’t sure he ever did.

Almost a year had passed since the breakup and Steve has made sure to stay no contact. The only time you’ve ever spoke after was when he returned your things from his house and asked for his own. The only thing you were left with was the heart shaped locket he gifted you for your birthday a few months after dating. 

Even though it tore you apart, you respected his decision and didn’t try to push him. You kept your distance from him but in turn, that meant distance from everyone.

Until a few days ago.

Max and Dustin showed up on your doorstep, scared and out of breath – rushing to beg for help about Eddie Munson and the newly deceased Chrissy Cunningham. There wasn’t a chance you could say no.

So you drove them to Family Video and for the first time in months, you were around Steve again. At the sight of him for the first time in months, your fingers clutched the locket still around your neck for some sort of comfort. But even in the same room, he wouldn’t look at you. He hardly acknowledged your presence. It cracked your already broken heart even more.

You guys have spent the last couple of days tracking Eddie down and then listening to his recount of Chrissy’s death. Your stomach turns at the confirmation that it wasn’t a regular run of the mill murder and instead, you’re all now sucked back into monsters and chaos.

Things began to feel really scary when Nancy’s assistant turned up dead in the same manner. Not only were you faced with some inter-dimensional psycho, but also had to deal with what looked like Steve having feelings for Nancy. You didn’t miss the way he tried to follow her on her lead or the disappointment he felt when Robin took his place instead. The locket around your neck felt like a weight around you instead of providing comfort.

Everything worsened when Max connected the dots between the latest victims and confessed she’s been dealing with her own symptoms. The already high stakes raised even higher at the risk of Max being in danger.

Now, the entire group gathers around the living room of the abandoned Creel home as everyone begins to split off into groups.

You’re standing off to the far side of the room. It feels weird being back here – everyone seems to have their own reason for being here. Nancy wants to find justice for her assistant, Dustin wants to clear Eddie’s name, Max needs to survive and Lucas is hellbent on making sure that happens, and Steve and Robin are here to protect their friends. You feel like the odd one out.  

Maybe it’s not the time to be worrying about that – it definitely isn’t – but the small reminders that you’re not really apart of the group stings.

Max and Lucas pair off together, Steve and Dustin together in the opposite direction and Nancy pulls Robin along with her. As scary as the run down house seems to be, trying to sneak into one of the pairs scares you more – so you go off alone without a hitch.

You do your best to inspect the house and every room you come across but it’s hard when you’re not even sure what you’re supposed to be looking for. You continue through the house for a few minutes until you make it upstairs. When your round the corner, you still.

Because a few feet in front of you, Steve and Nancy stand extremely close. They face each other, eyes locked and gentle smiles along their faces. You can’t hear exactly what they’re saying but Steve looks peaceful. Happy.

It makes your heart bleed and instinctively, your hand reaches for your heart locket again. You recognize that look in his eye, it’s the same way he used to look at you but hasn’t in so long. Seeing them like this feels like torture but you can’t seem to look away. And more than that, it feels like an extra confirmation that Steve broke off the relationship because he didn’t feel the same way anymore.

You’d heard the whispers and the rumors about how he never really got over her and maybe this just proves it.

Your silent pity party halts to an end when Robin makes her way up the stairs and easily slides into the conversation. Steve and Nancy share a look of exasperation and she gives his arm a gentle squeeze before walking away. It’s only then that Steve’s eyes trail from hers and flick up, locking with your own.

Something unreadable flashes in his eyes – surprise, maybe? Or possibly guilt. Whatever it is, it’s gone just as fast as it appeared and he follows the other girls down the hall without a word.

There’s a pang in your chest at his indifference. It’s hard to see him act so careless about everything but maybe you should have expected as much.

Suddenly, you hear Max’s voice coming from the other room and you’re reminded of the situation you’re actually in. If heartbreak was the worst thing you had to deal with then so be it – because the alternative is Max losing her life and you be damned if you let that happen.

The rest of the time spent in the house passes in a blur. You all came to the realization that whatever Vecna is doing, he has some sort of connection withlights and uses that to almost travel between dimensions.

It’s hours later when everyone gets back to the Wheeler home and Nancy decided on using the late hours to regroup and plan for the next few days. How to break the bad news to Eddie, how to successfully avoid Jason and the police, how to make sure Max stays safe by enforcing what Dustin coined as Max Watch.

The basement fills with overlapping chatter. Dustin and Nancy argue over which crisis is more important, Lucas is trying his best to comfort Max – who doesn’t seem to be all that interested in talking anymore – and Robin looks torn between staying silent and joining the argument.

Yet all you can focus on is Steve.

He’s let out his own fair share of input throughout the night and even made some arguably ill-timed jokes with Dustin. You’d like to be infuriated over the fact that he seems fine being around you and not talking but you’re not. You’re just.. hurt.

You’re sitting on a singular chair close to the stairs – the spot furthest from Steve. You’re trying to ignore the loud noises coming from everyone and before your mind catches up with your body, your hand reaches up for your locket.

Except your fingers grasp around air.

Your spine straightens in your seat and you glance down as your palm glides across the fabric of your shirt.

Nothing.

You swipe your hand across your neck, hoping it slipped under your shirt, except it’s not.

Nothing but bare skin.

Panic rises in your chest almost immediately. Every sound coming from the others drowns out of your ears as you shove your jacket off, shaking it erratically in front of you in case it tangled itself there.

Nothing.

You jump to your feet in the blink of an eye and pull the cushions from the small seat – fingers gliding across every inch of fabric in case it slipped through.

Nothing.

This cannot be happening. You couldn’t have lost it. You just had it.

Your stomach twists with anxiety as you search for it. Robin is the first one to notice the change in your behavior.

She calls your name gently. “What’s wrong?”

There’s a lump in your throat that makes it hard to respond. You drop to your knees, snatching your purse from where it sat on the floor. Without a second thought, you dump everything out and onto the floor.

“My necklace – it’s gone,” You respond quietly. There’s a waver in your voice and you know it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Your fingers push apart every item from your bag. Your wallet, your keys, useless receipts, loose change.

No locket.  

Your heart is hammering in your chest and there’s a burning feeling coursing through your veins.

“What necklace?” Robin asks and without looking back, you can feel everyone’s eyes on you. It’s embarrassing but the fear of having lost one of the most important things to you overpowers that.

“My locket. It was just here, I just had it,” You explain. She approaches you and offers a small smile.

“It’s okay, we’ll find it. Where was the last place you had it?”

“I don’t – I don’t know. I felt it at the Creel house and that’s.. that’s the last time I can remember,” Your voice is quiet and broken but you keep sifting through the pile of useless things from your purse.

It’s not there. It’s not in your pocket. It’s not around your neck. It’s gone.

Nancy speaks up from behind you next. “Look I’m sorry about your necklace but that’s not really important right now.”

Her tone isn’t unkind but it is impatient. She’s not wrong but the reminder hits a nerve inside you.

“It’s my necklace,” Your response is curt but she doesn’t let it bother her.

“We have to focus on saving lives right now. It’s just a necklace – you can always get another one,” Nancy says.

“No it’s not just a necklace,” You snap, your fingers shake as you shove everything back into your bag and your voice trembles. “It’s from St –“

You freeze before you can finish saying his name. Everything around you feels too small and suffocating. Knowing how much the breakup has been affecting you is different from admitting it to everyone around you.

The hard truth is you’ve been holding onto this single piece of jewelry like it was still a piece of him – but it’s not and it never will be. There was no relationship with him anymore and whether you lost the necklace or not, there never would be again.

Your eyes burn with tears as you kneel against the hardwood floor, sitting over the messy pile that’s your purse. Your shoulders drop and curl into yourself – every ounce of fight drains from you and you finally accept what’s been right in front of you.

The necklace won’t bring him back.

You quietly clean up the mess you made and Robin gives your shoulder a soft squeeze.

“We’ll look more tomorrow, yeah?” She assures but you both know it’s futile. Tomorrow, things with Eddie and Max could worsen. Vecna could make a real appearance. Or Jason and his wild pack of goons could become really dangerous.

You give her a small nod and then the moment passes.

Nancy insists everyone gets rest, saying tomorrow (and however long after that) will be a long day. Everyone does their best to get comfortable in the small space and without a word, you set off upstairs to find a bathroom.

As soon as the door clicks shut, your back leans against the door and tears fall freely against your cheek. They’re thick and hot against your skin and your shoulders rack with sobs.

Your nails dig into the bare skin where the locket used to lay as you let yourself feel it all. The heartbreak of it all and the pain of feeling like it’s happening all over it.

It’s stupid. It’s a single piece of metal. There’s a million other things for you to be worrying about right now but it’s also not just a necklace. It’s that beautiful loving moment you and Steve shared when he gave it to you. It’s his nervous hands shaking as he clasped the chain around your neck. It’s the way his eyes landed on the pendant everyday after. It’s the comfort it’s given you. It’s the last piece of proof that love between you two truly existed.

And now it’s gone.

Steve Harrington feels like the shittiest guy on the planet.

Not only has he spent the last few days acting like he didn’t care about you, he also had to watch you panic over losing the necklace and not comfort you.

Except that was nobody’s fault but his own.

He’s been the most miserable he’s been over the past few months after breaking up with you but he truly felt like it was the right thing to do. He watched you get hurt and face danger head on all because of him and his connections to the Upside Down.

It was his last straw when he woke up in the underground bunker, vision blurred from his swollen eye, and saw the deep cut across your cheekbone. It was still gushing blood but you didn’t even care – you were fussing over him instead of yourself.

That’s when he knew he couldn’t be with you anymore. Because you cared more about his wellbeing instead of your own and he’d be damned if he let you get hurt to save him.

He knew it was cruel doing it over the phone and his ‘reasons’ were even more cruel but selfishly, he couldn’t stand to see the look of agony that would wash over your face if he did it in person.

His fingers gripped the phone so hard his knuckles turned white and when he heard the trembles in your voice as you begged him not to, he had to slam it onto the receiver before you could hear him cry.  

Everyday since then has been hell on earth for him – but he told himself it was worth it if it kept you safe.

And then suddenly, and without him with you, you were in it all over again. Only this time he couldn’t comfort you. He couldn’t hold your hand or kiss your forehead. He gave all that up.

Steve didn’t think you’d still wear the necklace he bought you but his happiness from the confirmation was short lived once you began to panic over losing it.

He came to a realization he subconsciously already knew was true. That breaking up with you didn’t make things easier for you or keep you safe – it just hurt you emotionally instead of physically and he’s made you suffer for months.

He glances down at where you lay across the floor. You’re curled into a ball, knees tucked tight to your chest and one arm bent under your head. You seem to be asleep but you still look restless. He can still see the tear stains on your cheeks and his heart cracks.

He can’t fix what he did months ago, but he can fix this.

Steve stands quietly and his eyes dart across the room to make sure everyone is asleep. Everyone but Lucas is, he jumped for first shift of Max Watch, and he doesn’t seem to be at all interested in what Steve is doing.

He quietly gathers his things and makes his way to his car.

The Creel house is even more intimidating at night. It was once a beautiful home, there’s no denying that, but now it’s covered in boarded up windows and vines growing across every inch. The air around the house is eerily quiet – not even crickets chirp nearby.

Steve stands on the porch – not a single street light offering him any comfort – as he calms himself down enough to enter alone. It’s probably a dumb decision, no definitively a dumb decision, but the memory of your tear stained face, kneeling defeated on the floor is enough to make him move.

He wanders through the house with his flashlight. The floorboards creek beneath his feet and the tall grandfather clock almost mocks him. He fights every instinct to turn tail and run, and moves further into the house.

He retraces your steps the best he can. He looks through the main hallway, spends minutes at every single step of the staircase, he makes his way to the second story and examines every inch of the floor.

He makes it to the end of the hall – the same place you stood frozen at the sight of him and Nancy. He feels guilt settle heavy in his chest. It wasn’t what you were thinking but at the time, he thought it was best to let you believe that. He was so stupid.

Steve swallows down his regret and continues moving.

He spent an hour at the house, rummaging through every corner of the rooms you stepped even a foot in and can’t find it. He’s on his last leg of hope when he enters the attic. He wanders the room, flashlight beaming across the floor as he looks for it.

He’s just about to give up when the light catches something. The reflection bounces off the metal, glaring into his eye, and before he knows it, he rushes to it.

It’s a metal chain hanging from a broken floorboard and he can’t see if there’s a pendant attached to it. He drops to his knees, careful not to shake the broken wood, and holds the flashlight over it.

His fingers gently wrap around the metal and with a little tug, he pulls the metal free. Hanging from the bottom of the chain, is the heart shaped locket. It’s a scratched now and tiny pieces of splintered wood are stuck in the clasp but he found it.

He found it.

Steve breathes out a heavy breath of relief and squeezes the jewelry in his palm. He doesn’t spend another second inside the house and rushes outside – back to his car and back to you.  

By the time Steve makes it back to the Wheelers house, it’s almost three AM. He knew you’d still be asleep and he’d spent the whole car ride back debating if he should wake you up to give it to you, or wait till morning.

His debate solves itself when he steps out of his car, the locket still clutched tight in his fist, and sees you sitting on the front porch of the house.    

He freezes at the sight of you so close to him. It’s the first time you were alone and without distance in months. Everything he thought about saying flies out the window and all he can do is look at you.

You look up when you hear him approaching and surprise flashes in your eyes. He’s not sure what you thought when you saw he was gone – if anything at all – but it’s clear you weren’t expecting to see him like this.

Your hands fidget with the hem of your shirt and he can tell you’re uncomfortable. He never thought he’d see you like that because of him. He hates it.

Your mouth parts like you’re about to say something but he beats you to it.

“I have something for you,” He says.

His voice fills the tense air but the sound of it is like music to your ears. It’s soft and cautious – a hint of exhaustion blanketing it. You blink up at him from where you still sit on the porch step.

“For me?” Your brows furrow. He takes a step closer to you and holds his hand out.

Sitting in the center of his palm is a necklace. Your necklace.

You jump to your feet once recognition hits. A relieved gasp slips past your lips and you rush towards him, fingers tenderly cradling the metal.

“You found it?” You breathe out and hold the necklace in your own hands. Your voice is thick and tears line your eyes again. “I don’t – I don’t understand, how did you find it?”

Steve feels his heart pound when you look up at him with shiny eyes.

“It was at the Creel house, stuck in the attic.” He explains quietly. He’s almost too lost in the way you look right now. Undoubtedly exhausted and heartbroken over the necklace but still so fucking beautiful.

“You went back?”

He nods and watches the way your eyes glance down, taking in the state of him. He almost feels subconscious.

“Why would you do that?” Your voice rises with concern and it takes him aback. “Steve, you could’ve been hurt! We have no idea what’s going on and Robin created the whole no-going-off-alone thing for a reason. Why would you do that just for a necklace?” You chastise him.

It’s ironic that you’re saying it’s just a necklace now when a few hours ago, you were ready to bite Nancy’s head off for saying the same thing.

But this time Steve risked his life for it and that was stupid.

“Because it’s important to you.” Steve says easily. Your breath hitches as he stares down at you. There’s a finality in his voice that makes your heart ache. He says it like it’s obvious – only it’s not obvious and it hasn’t been for a long time.

You shake your head and inhale shakily. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you squeeze the necklace in your palm. You have no idea how to respond and nothing feels adequate anymore.

“Steve..” Your shaky voice trails off but he fills the silence.

“You have a scar,” Steve nearly blurts out.

Confusion flashes across your face but he raises his hand to stroke against your cheek. His fingers trace the raised scar across your skin and you fight the instinct to lean into his hold.

You know without more explanation that whatever his reason is for mentioning the scar, it has to do with the breakup.

“So what,” Your eyes searched his as you spoke. “You’re – you’re grossed out because of my scar?”

Insecurity fills your chest and you move to pull away from his hold. It almost feel like it burns now. His eyes widen and he’s quick to shake his head.

“No! No – no that’s not what I mean,” He raises both hands to grab your hands and hold you in place across from him. He says your name gently and you can see his hazel brown eyes swirl with so many emotions. “What I meant is you have a scar because of me,”

You faltered for a moment. “Steve, I got it from the blunt end of a pistol,”

“Exactly!” He exclaims and your brows pinch together. “You literally got pistol whipped because you were trying to protect me. You got hurt because of me,”

It slowly begins to dawn on you what he’s saying but he doesn’t let you offer any defense before he continues.

“Baby, you have no idea what it felt like to see you hurt like that and how it felt to know it was because of me,” You barely have a chance to bask in the slip of a pet name because he keeps going. “I thought I was doing the right thing back then. I thought I was keeping you safe by walking away – that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, because I’d rather live in a life time of agony alone than drag you into danger. I can’t do that – I won’t do that.” Steve’s voice cracks and your chest tightens. “But you got dragged into it anyway and this time, you’ve been alone and that’s my fault. I hurt you worse than you’ve ever been hurt before and I’m sorry, baby – I’m so fucking sorry,”

By the time Steve finishes, his palms have somehow found home holding your face. The tears that threatened to fall have spilled down your skin and wet his hands. Unaware to himself, his own eyes gloss over with tears.

It’s a terrible reason to have broken up with you and a deep part of you is angry that he didn’t just have a conversation with you but the biggest part of you is so fucking relieved to hear those words come out of his mouth.

Because it’s not that he didn’t love you anymore, it was that he loved you too much.

You breathe in a shaky breath and bring your freehand up to grip his wrist. “Steve..”

He leans his forehead against your own and his eyes flutter shut – a few stray tears slide down his cheeks and your heart shatters at the sight. You’ve spent so much time thinking he didn’t care but in reality, he was living the same hell you were.

You whisper his name but when he doesn’t move, you gently pull yourself away from him to bring the locket up to view. “Steve, look at me,” You murmur. He doesn’t take his hands off your face but he obliges. “You didn’t open it, did you?”

His eyes glance at the chain in your hand. “The necklace? No,” He shakes his head.

You give him a tearful smile and nudge it towards him. He doesn’t seem to get the hint. “Open it,”

He looks hesitant to let you go but when you give him another gentle encouragement, his hands move from your skin to hold the locket. He sniffles as he opens the metal.

His fingers still once it’s laid open in front of him.

Tucked inside the hearts are two pictures – one of the two of you on a date and the other of just him smiling softly into the camera.

His heart constricts in his chest at the sight of it. It wasn’t just that you still wore the necklace – you still carried him with you. Everyday since he gave it to you.

You let the silence sit for a moment before speaking up.

“Steve, it never mattered if we were together or not. I would follow you into danger every time. You could’ve been dragged to hell right now and I would still jump in after you because I love you, Steve. So mu –“

You’re suddenly cut off when he slams his lips against yours. The feeling of his lips fitting perfectly with yours is dizzying relief and your hands cling to his shoulders. You hold onto him so tight, like you’re afraid he’s about to slip away, and his hands cradle your face just as tight.

Steve is overwhelmed with every ounce of love he’s ever felt for you and you feel just the same.

His mouth slots against yours as he pours everything into this one kiss. He feels warm and fuzzy against you and it’s like all the torturous moments away from him completely fade away.

“I love you so – so fucking much,” Steve whispers against your lips, careful not to break contact, and you don’t even pretend to fight the smile that breaks out on your face. “So much baby, so so much,”

He continues to repeat it even as his lips travel from your lips and across your skin. He leaves messy kisses to your cheek, along your jaw, even over your eyelids until he lands back on your lips.

You hold each other close and breathe in each others air for as long as you can until he finally breaks apart from you – but he still doesn’t go far and rests his forehead against yours. You both nearly struggle to catch your breath but you’re both smiling wide.

It all feels right again. Perfect.

You carefully pull the necklace from his hand and hold it up again. “Will you put it on me?”

Steve nods without hesitation and carefully turns your hips to face away from him. Your pull your hair over one shoulder as he pulls the chain around your neck. His warm finger tips brush against your skin and tiny goosebumps erupt over you. The metal is cool against the warmth of your body – right where it belongs – and Steve’s hands glide across your shoulders after he clasps it in place.

You turn in his hold and wrap your arms around his middle. You look up at his beautiful eyes and he stares back down at yours. “I missed you,” You confess softly.

He nods above you and his thumb glides across your cheek. “I’ve missed you even more, sweet girl.”

There’s a million and one things to worry about tomorrow. The state of the world, Max’s safety, Eddie’s freedom and so much more but there’s not a sliver of doubt inside you that you can’t deal with it if he’s by your side.

He was dressed more casual than your first date a few days ago. A date that didn’t end with the kiss you desperately hoped you’d get at the end of an evening filled with warm palms that covered your lower back whenever he’d get the chance, or stolen glances to the pink gloss that covered your lips just for him. Instead, an awkward hug and red cheeks is what you got as he tripped over his own feet from your doorstep to his car.

The gray shorts he wears stop just above his knees, the hair covering his legs matching the patch that’s always peeking out from the tops of his shirts. His sweater was the same color as the car that took you here, tight around his broad shoulders, and snug in all the spots you wanted to explore with your fingers. His honey colored hair was messier than you’d seen before, like he’d just woken up and had to see you, disguising it as late night stargazing by the lake. The thought of how soft it must feel makes your hands twitch at your sides.

Your shoulders are tucked into his jacket that he always keeps in the back seat of his BMW. It was the end of summer — August bleeding into September. The late nights starting to get that little bit chillier, the days a little bit shorter. The faded spice of his cologne swirls around your senses still embedded deep into the fabric from last year. The blanket he’d laid out on the lush grass that still hadn’t disappeared is soft under your hands that keep you propped up at an angle, your legs extend in front of you, crossed at your ankles and the toes of your sneakers bump into his.

The space he leaves between you is just enough to feel the heat of his body radiate off his bronzed skin, freckled and kissed by the sun, his big hands spread out palm down like a mirror with yours. The tips of his fingers are quiet, ghosting against the side of your hand. Leaning his head back to follow your line of sight, the smell of his shampoo reminds you of the woods around you when the wind catches it. He’s so close, but you want him closer.

It only takes a few minutes before you feel his eyes are on you again and you can’t stop the twist of your lips this time.

“Where are these constellations? Or you just wanna look at me?” Your voice is soft, the faint teasing edge behind it isn’t enough to cover up how he’s making you shy when your eyes finally connect with his.

He clears his throat, cheeks blooming and Adam’s apple bobbing under your grin.

“Shit - yeah, sorry. Just like seeing you in my jacket s’all.” Your stomach flutters at his words, butterflies wreaking havoc when he finally crosses the threshold, a big hand enveloping yours. He brings his attention back to the sky, fingers curling purposefully.

You lean in closer under the guise of getting a better look as he starts to trace along the path of a collection of twinkling stars.

“We’ve got Orion’s Belt right over here.” His shoulder brushes against yours, his thumb rubbing soft circles over your knuckles.

Water laps against the shoreline and the distant coo of an owl drowns out the fading chirp of crickets while he gives you a tour of the night sky. His voice calms your nerves, talking low enough just for you to hear while your bodies inch closer like magnets until there’s no space left, fingers daring to intertwine.

“And this…” he breathes and you know he’s not looking at the stars anymore, spearmint and a little bit of the joint you both shared hitting your nose “Is the big dipper.”

Your eyes dare to leave the wide expanse above you only to confirm your suspicions. The corners of his mouth turn up into a smirk when he gets caught for the second time tonight, but this time he doesn’t move to look away. You can see the stubble lining the sharp line of his jaw from this close, a collection of moles you think you could trace into the same patterns he just showed you coming into view. His tongue pokes out to wet his lips when his eyes shift down to yours and it makes your breath catch in your throat. He’s gonna do it.

“Are you gonna kiss me Steve?” Your impatience comes out in just above a whisper.

There’s a new air of confidence about him now, shifting so he can lean against his elbow, the new position has him looking up at you. The moon shimmers, wrapping around you punching the air out of his lungs. You’re beautiful. He’s gentle when he cups the side of your face, your skin heating up under the softness of his palm. His thumb traces the line of your cheekbone before moving to the silk of your bottom lip, tugging it down gently, watching it pop back into place.

“Is that what you want, baby?” His eyes darken when he sees the pinch of your brows. A pout.

The nickname makes your heart soar and your chest tighten, only letting you offer a nod and the sweetest “please.” It fills the empty spaces in the air around you, an electricity begging to explode around it.

His hold finds its way to the back of your neck, long fingers curving just below your hairline before pulling you down without a fight to meet him. Nudging his nose against yours, you can feel the brush of his lips from this close.

“I should’ve done this the other night.” His breath mingles with yours, teasing you in a way that you like. “You forgive me?”

You match his smile despite trying to fight it and he takes that as his answer, finally putting you out of your misery with the kiss you’ve been waiting for.

He takes it slow at first, his eyes fluttering shut while his hand finds your jaw. He asks you to open up for him gripping your chin while his tongue licks at your top lip. Granting him the kind of access you’d never deny him, a groan vibrates deep from his chest when you meet him in the middle to deepen it.

Your fingers find their way into his hair when he lays back on the blanket taking you with him, and it’s even softer than you imagined. Of course it is. You grab at roots on the nape of his neck when he nips at your bottom lip already addicted to the sound he gets from it.

The kisses get sloppy, all the tension coming to a head when he tugs at your hips. Your leg slots between his so the muscle of his thigh presses to the most sensitive part of you, and it takes everything not to rock against him. His hand moves to squeeze at the curve of your waist, teeth scraping together when you both start to get needy. More, more, more.

A high pitch whistle from the other side of the lake breaks you two apart with a jump, the culprits hidden by distance and darkness. A loud splash of water tells you they are none the wiser to the company they keep. A late night rendezvous like you and Steve.

He huffs out a low chuckle beneath you, with that signature hand running through his hair when his head hits the ground with a low thump. Keeping a hold on your hip to make sure you don’t go anywhere, his eyes are brighter than before when he looks at you with flushed cheeks and that smile that started your crush all those years ago.

The air around him has always rivaled the kind of humidity that suffocates your skin on the hottest Indiana summer day. A palpable energy that's buzzed around the two of you since Robin introduced you at one of Rick’s parties a few months ago. It’s the kind of chemistry that’s recently become very hard to ignore as introductions turned into third wheeling late night shifts at the squawk, and regular invitations to movie nights at their shared apartment. The biggest culprit of them all though? Steve’s incessant need to always drive you home. It doesn’t matter to him how late it is, or out of his way it is, even if it’s a blizzard or a torrential downpour — walking or catching the bus is never an option. Not if he has anything to do with it.

The quiet conversations that happen inside his BMW are always easy, even a little bit flirty when Robin isn’t around. On those nights, he makes it a point to rest his hand on the stick shift so close to your thighs they search for each other, squirming in his leather seat. Those are the ones that always end with him parked in front of your place for hours. Both of you losing track of time talking about anything and everything while learning those little things about each other that turn into something bigger over time. Unfortunately for you, that time feels a lot like now, and the silent promise to never act on whatever this is starting to feel nearly impossible to keep.

Steve’s eyes flit towards you for no particular reason, catching you staring, sparking something inside of them that warms deep in your belly. Something unmistakably dangerous.

Forcing yourself to look away, embarrassment blooms on your cheeks as you clear your throat with a shake of your head. But it doesn’t take long for your eyes to find their way back to him because it’s all they seem to want to do these days. With one side of his mouth tugged up, his full attention is on you now while his fingers don’t stop their mission to finish the puzzle he’s solved a million times before. Something about that has you biting the fat of your bottom lip, shifting in your seat perched on the side of his desk.

The whites of his teeth shine in a playful flirty grin as he rocks back in his chair, spreading his legs wider, earning that roll of your eyes he was looking for. Fast clicks of the rubix cube catch louder in your ears as all of the colors line up perfectly in his hands, and that grin on his stupidly handsome face turns into a proud beam like its the first time he’s accomplished this feat.

”Still got it!” He winks, tossing the toy up casually before catching it.

”Were you even listening to me, Dingus?” Robin hisses, smacking the cube out of his hand and you try not to giggle at the dejected look on his face that quickly turns into its factory setting of annoyance.

”Yeah, I was listening to the story you’ve told me three times today.” He snaps, leaning over to grab the toy off the ground, almost falling when the chair threatens to go off kilter. “Maybe, just maybe there’s a reason Vickie keeps getting mad.”

You’ve watched them have this conversation at least once a week for the past month where Steve tiptoes around getting Robin to admit her inconvenient crush on Nancy Wheeler.

“Hey! Who’s side are you on here?” She snaps, with a glare that wrinkles the top of her forehead.

Steve opens his mouth to reply but she quickly cuts him off before he even has a chance.

“You know what, no. No! I can’t be here, I need to go.” Robin deflects like she always does, grabbing her messenger bag she storms out of the soundproof room, and right out of the station’s double doors. Leaving you and Steve alone.

He scoffs, staring out the glass after her, a silent argument with himself on whether he should follow or not evident on his face. He runs a hand through his hair with a bouncing knee, taking a deep breath through his nose before bringing his gaze back to you, that rogue strand flopping back across his forehead.

“I wasn’t trying to be an asshole.” He groans defeated with eyes that plead for some kind of reassurance. “Should I go find her?”

“I think she just needs a minute.” You reply softly, legs dangling. “If she does have feelings for someone else, that’s gotta be overwhelming. She’s new at this, ya know?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, jaw ticking taking one last look outside before you see him visibly let it go with a sag of his shoulders.

”Always am.” You tease with a smile, doing your best to lighten the mood.

His eyes shift back to you, that dangerous thing from before returning ten fold twinkling in the gold specs inside of them. Suddenly the realization that the two of you are alone consumes the entire room, air turning thick with something that feels inevitable, that small little joke of yours working too well.

“Now don’t get crazy.” He scoffs, using his long legs to roll his chair towards you.

Something swoops in your belly, fingers curling around the wooden edge of the desk while you try to keep your composure, watching his Nike’s close the space.

“Name one time I’ve been wrong.”

Your challenge comes with a tilt of your chin, and an arch of your brow. The smirk you get in return has your teeth digging into your bottom lip, thighs closing the small gap between them. It still isn’t enough to stop the warmth between them from spreading, especially when he stops right in front of you. His face aligns with your knees from his seat, sending your body humming with his proximity to the place that’s wanted more of him for months now.

”How about when you said Beetlejuice was a good movie?” He snorts, meeting your gaze from under his lashes, something baiting inside of it.

”Are you kidding me? It’s an incredible movie! Tim Bur—“

”It was weird.” He cuts off with an irritated face, like just the memory of it is enough to annoy him.

”You’re weird.” You retort immediately, glaring with a scrunch of your nose.

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, before his narrowed gaze trails slowly down the length of your body. It lingers on your exposed thighs that he’s started to see a little more frequently thanks to warm spring days, and he’s never been more thankful to Mother Nature or your sun dresses. You swallow hard seeing him lick his lips, heart skipping a beat at the glazed over look in his eyes that makes your chest ache.

You have to leave.

”I — uh, I should go.” You stammer, starting to wiggle off the desk but Steve doesn’t let you get very far.

”Wait! Don’t — “ Standing up, the rest of that sentence fades as his hands find your knees, electric currents running through his finger tips that spread them apart so he can fit his hips between your thighs. His eyes hold you inside of them, hooded and begging before finishing it in a whisper. “Don’t leave.”

The two of you sit there unmoving, mouths so close it feels like you’re breathing each other in. His hands inch up your bare thighs, goosebumps pebbling along hot skin as his fingertips brush the bottom hem of your dress.

”Steve.” You manage to murmur, somehow finding your voice. “It’s a bad idea and you know it.”

The protest sounds weak leaving your mouth, especially when the backs of your heels hook and pull him closer. Your hands grip harder at the edge of the desk, needing something to anchor you while the tip of his nose runs up the bridge of yours. The spice of his cologne wraps around you, and the hint of cinnamon mixed with the amber is new.

“What’s so bad about it? Give me one reason.” He mocks your previous challenge with a flash of his teeth, grabbing at the soft fat under his palms.

”Robin.”

“Well she doesn’t have to know.” He snorts like it’s obvious, wandering hands sliding up higher.

”Okay, then what happens if this blows up in our face and we end up hating each other?” Your argument would feel more valid if you weren’t straightening your spine, getting so close to him that your chests touch.

”You really think you can hate me?” He fake pouts with a furrow of his brows, that infamous swoop of hair tickling your forehead.

”Steve! I’m being serious.” You whine a little defeated because you know you’re about to give in, and because all you want is for him to just kiss you already.

You think he knows that too.

He exhales a breath through his nose, one hand finally becoming bold enough to slip under your dress to wrap around your hip, while the other cups the apple your cheek. The pad of his thumb tilts your chin up to keep your gaze on him, lips so close that they almost touch.

”And what if it doesn’t blow up in our face?” He challenges, letting his top lip graze your bottom. “What happens if we end up really liking each other? What then?”

Your lashes flutter, feeling his warm breath kiss your skin, butterflies rioting inside the crevices of your ribcage. Your fingers let go of their death grip on the edge of the desk, and spread over his stomach. He inhales sharply at the contact, his grip on your hip tightening as your palms work their way up his chest before sliding along his neck and into the thickness of his hair at the nape of it. Steve tugs you closer as your legs wrap around his waist, the tip of your nose nudging his warmed cheek.

”Because I don’t know if you can’t tell or something but I already really like you.” He confesses hot against your mouth with the softest brush of his lips. “I have for a while. And you know what I think?”

”Hmm?” You manage with lust clouding your vision and fingers curling into his roots.

”I think you like me too.”

You don’t bother giving the answer he already knows, instead you close what little distance is left. It takes Steve a moment to realize what you’re doing, that this is actually happening but when he does, he takes control of the kiss immediately. His lips feel hungry moving against yours, devouring you like it’s been a craving, claiming your mouth like it’s already his.

A deep groan rumbles from his chest at the feel of your tongue swiping along his bottom lip. The blunt ends of his nails dig into the soft skin of your hip when he opens up for you and they finally meet. They massage each other moving languid and slow, relishing in the feeling. Back bending, your fingers curl deeper in his roots, somehow needing more.

As if he can read your mind, the pad of his thumb tugs at the corner of your mouth, opening you up more. He explores every inch of you like he’s trying to memorize it, swallowing all the sounds that are somehow better than his imagination. Your hips rock against him, the thin cotton of your panties leaving hardly any barrier. A breathy gasp escapes the back of your throat feeling just how big he really is.

Steve takes this moment to catch his breath, pulling away with a heaving chest. He presses his forehead against yours, eyes taking in your flushed cheeks and kiss bitten lips.

“You know how many times I’ve thought about this?” He sighs, the pad of his thumb stroking your cheek. That permanent teasing edge to his voice is absent for the first time tonight.

His confession erupts across your body that bends for him, silently asking for more all on its own. Holding his gaze in the depths of yours, the pointed roll of your hips is slow enough to feel the entire length of him pressed against his zipper. It twitches underneath the metal, the pressure against your clit only covered by a thin pair of cotton earning him a quiet whimper.

”I think about you all the time, Steve.” You say in a low voice, looking at him from under the thick hood of your lashes, rolling your hips again.

“Honey.” He hisses through his teeth, his grip on you tightening hard enough to hold you still. A shiver ripples through him as he desperately tries to find his self control. “We should stop —“

Your hands untangle from his hair, sliding down his jaw that you hold in your palms. The pad of your thumb traces the curve of his full bottom lip that you want nothing more than to feel between your teeth. He inhales another sharp breath watching the way your eyes darken, his thick lashes fluttering kissing the tops of his cheeks like he can read your mind.

”What if I don’t want to stop?”

All you’ve ever done with Steve is hold yourself back. And now that you’ve had him, you don’t want to do it anymore. You can’t do it anymore.

”I’m tired of not getting what I want.” You reaffirm, tilting your head to meet his eyes, brushing your lips against his kiss bitten ones before whispering, “aren’t you?”

He holds your gaze down the slope of his nose, the hand on your hip moving to wrap around the small of your back pulling you close, while the other trails down to cup the side of your neck. The pad of his thumb rests at the hinge of your jaw, a flurry of emotions swirling inside his stare as he takes everything in, making sure he’s not misreading any signs. It’s not until he feels the quiet way you say his name against his lips that he comes back to his body, snapping out of his nervous lapse in judgement of what’s happening.

”You have no fucking idea.” Steve growls, finally capturing your mouth without anything holding him back anymore.

This kiss is different from the last one, his lips move against yours with something possessive behind them — greedy. Your tongues don’t wait for permission, tangling together with an intensity that has your teeth scraping together. Completely lost in months of late nights and lingering stares, his hand slides down your neck, and across your shoulders bringing your dress strap with it. He finishes his path joining his other hand under your dress, both of them meeting and curling around the apple of your ass. Squeezing harshly, he pulls you closer with a hard slam on the wood of the desk.

Moaning into his mouth, you tug at the collar of his sweater, silently urging him to take it off. He catches on quickly, but struggles to break himself free, obsessed with the taste of you — the feel of you in his hands. It’s the whine that peels itself from the back of your throat and the way you push yourself closer searching for friction that he finally pulls himself away with a suck of your bottom lip. Letting it go with a loud pop, the pout on your face turns his lovesick grin cocky as he plucks the collar of his sweater from the back and tosses it to the side of the studio in one fell swoop.

Your lids grow heavy, eyes glazing over at the thick smattering of hair on his chest. Throat drying up at the sight of his permanently sun kissed skin dotted with mini constellations of freckles and moles that your fingers itch to trace. He runs a hand through his hair, drinking in the sight of you too. The wild look on your face with your dress rucked up around your hips, legs spread revealing the wet patch in the middle of your panties that he’s the culprit of. Both straps dangle loosely off your shoulders, leaving just the red ones of your bra, the swell of your breasts teasing him.

“Jesus, I knew you were gonna ruin me.” He mutters to himself in disbelief, slowly walking back to his place between your legs.

His hands trail up your thighs, squeezing at the soft dough under your dress appreciatively with lick of his lips, before curling his fingers around the elastic. It’s the only thing left keeping him from a part of you he’s thought about more times than he’d ever admit.

“Tell me what you want.” He breathes against your lips, brows furrowed with need.

Your fingers find their way to his belt, expertly undoing the gold buckle before popping open the button and tugging down the zipper of his jeans. He hisses at the release as you lift your head, capturing his mouth in something so sure there’s no room left to argue, pulling away just enough to whisper.

”You.”

That’s all Steve needs, yanking your panties down in one swift motion, capturing your lips as he does the same with the straps of your dress. It pools around your lap, just like his jeans do at his feet. Kicking them off along with his shoes, he grabs one of your legs hitching it over his waist, pointedly running his hard covered length along your wet seam. You both moan into each other's mouths at the contact, your fingers tangling in his hair, anchoring yourself to him as he licks into you, rolling his hips again.The way your slick instantly wets the fabric of his briefs makes it feel like he’s teasing himself too.

”I don’t — I don’t have a condom.” He murmurs, using all of his strength to pull away with panic set in his eyes like maybe he’s ruined this whole thing.

Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you let one of your hands slide down his chest, greedily scratching your nails along the dark hair there, before following it down his happy trail. The muscles in his stomach twitch, along with his cock that only grows bigger when you cup it, and the feeling of just how thick he is has you squirming at the thought of making it fit.

“I’m on birth control.” You admit quietly, your fingers dipping into the waist band of his underwear, the tips of them running along his pelvic bone.

”Jesus Christ.” Steve’s eyes pinch closed, the grip on your leg tightening to something almost bruising.

”Is that okay? Do you want to —“

“Yes, yes, god yes, that's okay.” He interrupts with an enthusiastic nod of his head.

Bend bending down, he claims your lips again as your greedy hands push his boxers past his hips. Your touch is tentative wrapping around the weight of him, but the moan you get in return is loud enough to echo off the glass encasing you, encouraging you forward. The first pump has him shuddering underneath your palm, a big hand grabbing your chin, using it to tilt your head to the side. He takes your slow torture out on the base of your throat in the form of open mouthed kisses, dragging his teeth along your pulse point that jumps for him.

“Steve you’re so - you’re so -“

He flattens his tongue, licking a path that has your eyes roll back, killing off the rest of that sentence by latching onto that sensitive spot behind your ear and sucking hard. It’s replaced by a breathy whine that comes out at the same time the pad of your thumb swipes against his leaking tip. He grunts into your neck, hips bucking into your touch.

“I know baby, I know.” He murmurs into your ear, nipping at the lobe before enveloping it into the heat of his mouth, letting it go with a loud pop. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”

The endearment has your legs spread wider in a silent plea to keep his word. He smiles wide against your skin, sneaking his hand between you to replace yours that go back to their new home in the hair at the nape of his neck. You decide it’s your favorite place. He pulls away enough for your noses to bump, blown out wild looking eyes meeting yours before they drop down to a view he’s only ever imagined. His mind didn’t even come close to doing it justice.

”Fuuuuck.” He groans to himself, face twisting into something tortured, swiping himself through your glistening folds with another shudder ripping through his spine. “You’re so wet, honey.”

Steve says the last part almost like he can’t believe it, like there’s no world where you’d want him just as bad as he wants you. But when he does it again and you mewl in a way that sounds just as desperate, he knows it's true.

“You’re not the only one who’s wanted this for a long time.” You confess a little shy despite your current position, softening his features with the kind of smile that feels a lot like he’s already smitten.

The pad of his thumb on the hand still wrapped around your hitched leg traces circles on the goose pebbled skin underneath it.

“Yeah?” He sighs, eyes turning heavy bringing himself close enough to fit at your entrance. “Let’s make up for lost time then.”

Your fingers weave tighter in his hair, forehead pressing to his with a slack jaw at the first stretch of your walls. It feels like he’s everywhere, filling you so much as if he has nowhere else to go even though he’s only half way in.

”Oh my god, Steve, you feel — holy shit.” You pant, pulling at his roots so hard you know it hurts as he pushes himself to the hilt with one final stroke.

”You’re doing so good though, look at you.” His praise comes out against your lips, the tip of his nose nudging against your cheek. He feels the way his words tighten around him, a new wave of arousal coating every ridge and dip.

Steve gives you a minute to adjust to the size, only starting to move when you lean forward to steal a messy kiss. Desperation evident in the encouraging swipe of your tongue. He starts off slow, rolling his hips in languid strokes that match the way he licks into your mouth basking in the little noises escaping from the back of your throat. It’s not until you nip at his bottom lip that he lets go the way he really wants too.

Breaking away from your lips, he brings his attention to your face, needing to see the way it twists up when he pulls nearly all the way out before slamming himself back in. Your eyes go wide at the feeling, the silk of your walls fluttering, begging him for more that he gives without any hesitation. His palm finds it way back to your cheek that has to be searing against his skin, collecting your mouth again with a hunger that’s easy to lose yourself in.

He keeps a steady pace, hiking your leg further up his hip, somehow going even deeper. The tip of him hits the spot that no one else has ever been able to find, earning a loud moan of his name that he thinks sounds best when it comes from you. Using the opportunity that presents itself to him, he starts a path of open mouth kisses down your jaw, along your neck, gently pushing you back to lay against the desk, peppering them across your collar bone.

The new angle has you trying to cover the scream that's begging to fill the empty studio, and Steve keeps going. Tugging down your bra, sucks your pert nipple into the heat of his mouth. Your back arches, nails dinging into his shoulders when he brings his attention to the other one with a flick of his tongue.

“Perfect, you’re perfect.” Groaning his praise against your skin, he licks a stripe up your sternum before nipping at the curve of your breast.

Steve stands up straight, bringing his hands to your hips stretching you out even more. His eyes take in your heaving chest, dark eyes, and skin shining wet from the work of his mouth and he thinks he might cum right now.

”You ready for more, pretty girl?” He coos with the softest grind of hips, lips twitching at the way your eyes hit the back of your head because of it.

”Please.” You beg, finding the strength to look at him from underneath your lashes.

Your stare breaks any self control he might have left, the first snap of his hips pushing you further up the desk, sending some of the eight tracks clattering to the ground.

“Oh my god.” You cry out, grabbing onto his forearms. The blunt ends of your nails digging into his freckles when he does it again.

”You feel so fucking good.” He grits out between his teeth, the grip on your curves turning bruising as his head rolls back lost in the silk of your walls that keep sucking him in every time he tries to leave.

His praise makes your hips meet the next roll of his, sending another flurry of cuss words spilling out of his mouth, that turn into your name the more you keep up with his pace. Tugging you back to the edge of the desk, he folds over you, palms finding purchase on either side of your head.

That swoop of hair tickles damp against your forehead, his face contouring into something dazed watching the way you try to catch your breath. The quick grind of his hips punches the air out of your lungs with every thrust, the thick thatch of hair at the base of your demise rubbing against your clit with just the right of pressure.

You know you're not going to last much longer as the heels of your feet dig into his ass pushing him deeper. He grunts into your mouth, collecting a sloppy kiss rolling his hips in a circle, the tip of him pushing right against the spot you need him most.

“Come on, honey, let go. I know you want to. Let me finally make you feel good.” He murmurs encouragingly, grabbing both your wrists and pinning them above your head, sending a notebook and some pens flying to the ground.

The new position tightens the coil deep inside your gut tight enough to snap, your walls constricting around him as you tumble over the edge with nothing but his name spilling from your lips. Seeing something he’s only ever daydreamed about in the dead of night sends him flying right after you. He lets go of your hands catching himself on the desk, body shaking with a loud groan rumbling from his chest painting your insides with months of wanting you so much that it aches in his chest.

He keeps up the slow grind of his hips until you both come back down, with goofy love sick smiles twisting up your lips. You giggle when he nudges his nose with yours, getting a blinding flash of his white teeth in return.

“What?” Amusement dances in his eyes, brushing the apple of your cheek with the back of his hand.

”This just isn’t where I imagined it would finally happen is all.” You grin, leaning into his touch. “So out in the open.”

”It’s not like anyone’s here —“

”Steve, look, I’m sorry.” The sound of Robin’s voice echoes out through the empty station.

”Oh fuck me.” He yells in a whisper, wide panicked eyes meeting yours before dropping to the ground out of sight. You try your best to adjust your bra and dress into place.

“You know I hate when we figh— oh.” Robin stops in her tracks in the common room, confusion painting her features taking in your disheveled look and the lack of Steve in the room.

“H-hey!” You squeak out, voice cracking and she narrows her gaze at it.

”Where’s Steve?” She asks, the question coming out slowly in that suspicious kind of way.

”Uh - he uh - he went to the bathroom.” You offer, scratching the back of your neck while the man in question scrambles to get his clothes back on at your feet.

Tilting her head to the side, she squints at you clearly not believing a word coming out of your mouth. Realization dawns on her features, annoyance replacing any confusion that was left.

”You have got to be kidding me!” She throws up her hands, “Steve I know you’re there. You guys suck at lying.”

”Shit.” Steve mutters, pulling on his shirt before slowly standing up, buckling his belt with a sheepish smile.

”Hey.” He waves, running a hand through his damp hair.

“You have to help me complete it, Mr. Mathew’s makes totally no sense during class.” You didn't need to be asked, you were going to help her anyway. Before you could respond, a familiar voice called out.

“Nance.” The mousy brown haired girl turned around, to find her boyfriend already navigating through the halls toward her.

Steve leaned casually against the lockers, his hair perfectly styled as always and a grin plastered on his face. You instinctively took a half-step back to give the couple a little privacy, but mostly because you never knew what to say around him.

“What do you want, Harrington?” Nancy got straight to the point, lifting a brow, though you noticed the small smile that tugged at the corners of her lips.

Steve cocked his head to the side, like he was confused by what she meant. “Can’t a guy come say hi to his girlfriend?” He asked exasperatingly.

Nancy rolled her eyes, not bothering with his antics. “Not when class starts in a few minutes.” You looked down, fighting a smile when Steve’s eyes flickered towards you, pausing for a second before scoffing.

“Anyway, my parents are out of town. So, are you in?” Steve asked, leaning closer. Nancy looked confused by the matter,

“In for what?” She turned towards him, leaving you to hug your books closer to your chest.

Carol sighed loudly, “no parents? Big house?”

Nancy chewed on her bottom lip, considering his offer for a second before looking back at you. You shrugged your shoulders, it wasn’t like you could make the decision for her.

“C’mon, it’ll be lowkey. Just us.” Steve promised, as he was waiting for her answer he looked back at you again. It only for a second, but long enough to notice the way you were trying very hard to disappear into the locker beside you. Long enough to notice how every time Steve’s gaze fleeted towards you, you immediately looked somewhere else, avoiding eye contact.

He found it strangely endearing, Steve jerked his chin in your direction. “You can bring her too.” The words had left his mouth before he could rethink them.

You blinked in response, not expecting to be brought into the conversation so suddenly. Nancy looked between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “You want her to come?” She didn’t mean it in a bad way, she just knew social gatherings weren’t really your thing, especially not involving other teenagers in a secluded house.

“I mean—she’s your friend isn’t she? Maybe that’ll convince you more,” he shrugged, and you looked horrified.

“It’ll be fun.” He said to you this time, fighting back a smile. Because for someone who barely spoke to him, you were surprisingly easy to tease.

Nancy nudged your shoulder with a playful smile on her face. “See? Steve said it’ll be fun.” She mocked.

You huffed, glaring at her. “I heard him.” Steve couldn’t help but laugh at that, the first words you had said all morning were expressing your annoyance at the ladder, but he found it amusing.

Nancy turned back to him laughing, and Steve smiled automatically—of course he did. She was his girlfriend, the girl he’d spent months chasing, the girl he was supposed to be looking at.

Yet, when he caught you shuffling on your feet, a nervous habit of yours, something unfamiliar settled in his chest.

The relationship had come completely out of nowhere, at least it had felt like it. One day Nancy was your best friend who spent lunch periods with you in the library complaining about classes and discussing college applications, the next day she was dating Steve.

You hadn’t expected it, not because Steve was a bad guy, he just didn’t seem like the type of guy to go for a girl like her. Nancy liked schedules, and didn’t have time for relationships—Steve was reckless and deemed “the king of Hawkins.”

But she was your best friend, and if she was happy you were happy for her. Even if lately it felt like you were fitting yourself into places around her new relationship, waiting for her to leave you in the past.

The thought vanished as laughter erupted around the pool, you and Nancy had shown up at Steve’s house not long ago, being immediately pulled into his group's shinangins.

You sat on the side of a lounge chair, knees pulled up to your chest while you observed Steve bringing a beer can horizontally to his mouth.

“Let’s go, Harrington!” Tommy cheered as Steve began to chug the whole drink down, the liquid dripping down the sides of his mouth.

“Idiot.” Nancy scoffed, and you found yourself looking up. The porch light caught against his features as he grinned victoriously, sweeping his hair back while everyone around him groaned.

You couldn’t peel your eyes away, he looked good. The realization caught you off guard, but you were only observing his handsomeness objectively, just like anyone else would.

The moment lasted all of two seconds before Steve extended another bottle toward Nancy. “Your turn,” he motioned.

Nancy was quick to deny, laughing. “No chance.”

Without warning, she took the can and pushed it into your hands. “She’ll do it.” Your eyes widened as all pairs of eyes turned immediately to you.

“Nancy—”

“Oh, come on, have some spirit!” Carol yelled.

“You got volunteered, you can’t back out now.” Tommy explained.

Heat rushed to your face as you looked to Nancy for help, but she was only laughing. “Go on, you can do it.” She said softly.

You rolled your eyes, Steve smirked in your peripheral as you gave in, lifting the can to your lips.

Then you drank and drank, and the cheering grew louder, by the time only a small amount remained you lowered the can, panting out of breath.

“Holy shit!” Carol cried out, as you moved to sit back down.

Steve’s eyes lingered on your face before letting out a surprised laugh. “Wow.” He was genuinely at a loss for words.

“What?” You shrugged, titling your head.

“I did not expect that from you, you’re trouble.” He pointed at you, the smile that spread across his face made something twist in your stomach.

“I think I’m the least troublesome of everyone here.” You shook your head, unable to keep his gaze for longer than a moment.

You barely had time to finish another drink before someone was already cannon balling into the pool, soaking everyone nearby.

“Hey!” You couldn’t stop laughing as Nancy’s hand wrapped around your wrist, and suddenly you were being pushed along with everyone else into the heated pool.

All sound disappeared beneath bubbles and moving water, you kicked upwards until your head broke through the surface, sucking in a deep breath.

As soon as you opened your eyes, you found Steve floating directly in front of you, close enough to see the water droplets running down the side of his face, his hair plastered messily across his forehead. A huge smile stretched across his face, not polished for anyone else to see, just beyond happy.

You forgot Nancy, forgot everyone else in his huge pool, forgot that the boy in front of you was your best friend's boyfriend. Staring into his wide brown eyes, you smiled back. Shy and easy, the kind of smile that appeared before you could think twice.

Steve’s expression changed at the sight, but before you could dwell on it further, water splashed all over him, his attention faltering. “Nancy!” Steve screamed, turning around to face the culprit.

You looked away as they got into a splash fight, your smile vanishing. Your chest suddenly felt oddly light, what was wrong with you? The buzzing that swarmed throughout your body must’ve been from the alcohol, nothing else. You forced yourself to focus back on everyone else, blending into the background like you were meant to.

Eventually, you all climbed out the pool, the temperature difference shocking you as you wrapped your arms around yourself to fight the chill.

A shadow appeared beside you, you looked up to see Steve holding out a towel. “For you.” Was the only thing he said.

“Oh, thanks.” You mumbled quietly, not feeling as light as you had in the pool anymore.

His smile lingered for a split second before his name was called out, you followed the sound automatically. Nancy was already several steps ahead, standing by the staircase that led to Steve’s room.

Your stomach dipped, reminding you that you couldn’t share moments with Steve—that would be ridiculous. Nancy was your best friend and you knew exactly where you stood, wrapping the towel a little tighter around your shoulders, you slipped out of the house while no one was paying attention. The walk home felt colder without the girl by your side, behind you, Steve’s house lights flickered in the distance. You never looked back.

The next day, you couldn’t bring yourself to seek out Nancy, you avoided the cafeteria entirely. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Steve’s smile from the pool. The library was vacant as you settled your belongings on the table in a quiet corner, but you weren’t reading any books.

Your eyes kept drifting to the same sentence without processing a single word, you just couldn’t focus today, you needed space to clear your head, that was all.

Meanwhile, across the school Steve sat in the cafeteria with his arm draped lazily over the back of Nancy’s chair. She was picking at her lunch while flipping through the pages of a textbook, ignoring Tommy’s loud words.

Steve glanced across the large room full of other students, something felt out of place. His brows furrowed as he lowered to speak to Nancy. “Where’s your friend?”

Nancy finally looked up, having noticed your absence. “Oh, she’s probably in the library.”

Steve’s frown deepened, why weren’t you with them? He meant to ask. “The library?” He repeated instead.

“She likes it there.” Nancy shrugged. “Not everyone enjoys sitting with you people for an hour.”

“Ouch,” Tommy winced, but she returned to her book, and the conversation should’ve ended there. Except, to Steve it didn’t, and he couldn’t stop glancing at the entrance waiting for you to show up, for some reason it bothered him when you didn’t.

You walked to your final class, adjusting the books in your arms and keeping your head down. “Hey.” You recognized the voice a little too well, swallowing as you looked up.

Steve stood a few feet away, rubbing his neck as neither of you said anything. It wasn’t unusual, conversations between you didn’t start unless there was a third party, still, Steve stayed where he was.

“You okay?” He broke the silence, your grip tightened around your books, looking around to see if Nancy was nearby and had set him up to this.

“Yeah.” You responded, though the answer came too fast, and Steve studied you closer.

He didn’t know why he was confronting you, only that yesterday you’d been laughing and today you vanished. And right now, you looked like you wanted to sprint in the opposite direction. “I’m fine.” You tried again, forcing a tight smile.

“Okay,” he said carefully, fearful that anything else would scare you off.

You took a step backwards, the quiet between you felt tense with something you couldn’t explain. “I should get to class.” You gestured.

Steve nodded, his mind snapping back to reality. “Right—yeah.” He blew a breath his mouth, watching as you disappeared into the crowd, he couldn’t figure out why he cared so much.

The first time you noticed her absence, you told yourself it wasn’t a big deal. Students poured through the doors of Hawkins high while you waited by the front steps, to walk home with Nancy as you always did.

You stood there for nearly ten minutes, you checked your watch as the parking lot was beginning to empty when you finally spotted her. Relief immediately coursed through you until you realized she wasn’t alone.

Jonathan Byers walked beside her, the two of them talking about something that had their heads bent close enough to not notice the world around them.

You watched Nancy nod along to whatever he was saying completely invested, as a strange feeling settled in your chest. You had no right to be jealous, Jonathan’s little brother was missing—everyone knew that, she was probably consoling him.

“Nancy,” you called out, though your voice barely carried across the parking lot. You watched them in silence as they drove away in Jonathan’s car, neither of them seeing you standing there.

That evening, you stared at the phone blankly, dialing your best friend's number shouldn’t feel as hard as it did. The line rang twice before you heard Nancy’s voice, “hello?”

You immediately relaxed. “Hey,” you said lightly.

“Oh, hey.” She replied, but her voice sounded distracted, you tried not to let the worries get to you.

“I was wondering if you still wanted to work on the history project together.” You asked patiently, hearing paper rustling on the other end.

“Oh.” Your heart sank, you knew that tone. “I promised Jonathan I’d help him with something, can we do it another day?” She sighed.

You hated yourself for feeling disappointed, but you instantly attempted at burying it down and keeping your voice casual. “No no, it’s fine—another day.” You waved off.

You stared at the wall, Nancy paused before continuing. “I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

You smiled tightly, because Nancy never went back on her promises. “Okay.” You agreed, then hung up the line.

Steve didn’t notice until days later, when the pattern kept showing up. Nancy was stuffing books into her locker, mind somewhere and body elsewhere. Steve stood in front of her, not quite understanding her rush. “You wanna grab breakfast before first period?” He asked with a smile, perhaps she was stressed and needed a break.

She looked up unexpectedly, mouth hanging open as her gaze strayed towards the clock. “I can’t,” she shook her head. “I have to go…help Jonathan with something.”

Steve frowned, not understanding why she was ditching her boyfriend for someone else. “Why are you with that weirdo?” His jaw tightened.

Nancy sighed. “Steve. Don’t call him that.” She sounded angry, like the name bothered her more than it should’ve.

“Oh so now you suddenly care about him?” Steve blinked, as Nancy slammed her locker door shut.

“His brother is missing. Would it kill you to have some compassion for once?” She asked before walking away, the words stung deeply. Steve remained rooted to his spot, glancing up he caught you standing a few meters away, your smile dropping when Nancy's fuming form passed by, and your eyes locking onto Steve’s dropped shoulders. You recovered quickly, keeping eye contact but not moving to follow Nancy, he realized in that moment he wasn’t the only person being shut out.

By the time you walked the distance to Nancy’s house, you knew how the conversation was going to end. You stood on the front porch with your arms crossed tightly over your chest, as you watched Nancy step outside and pull the door shut.

She was the first to break the silence. “What’s going on with you?” She asked, and your brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?” You looked at her desperately.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” She answered, and the accusation hurt, mostly because it wasn’t entirely wrong. You couldn’t be around her anymore without thinking of what happened back at the pool, or how she left you waiting in the parking lot.

You looked away, “Nancy—”

“No, seriously.” She cut you off. “Everytime I see you lately, it’s like you don’t even want to talk to me. It’s been like that since Steve’s house.”

“You’ve been busy.” The words left you suddenly, feeling like a weight taken off your shoulders.

“I know that, and you know why.” There it was, the excuse you’ve been repeating to yourself all week. The one about the canceled plans, about feeling like you’ve already been cut from her life.

“It just feels like you don’t want to be around me anymore.” You spoke, looking down at your shoes.

Nancy opened her mouth then closed it again. “You—you know that’s not true, I just…” her gaze landed on Jonathan’s car parked outside.

“Jonathan needs me.” The words shattered something in your chest, they didn’t sound cruel but they were honest.

You nodded slowly, trying to show you understood, but your eyes had already filled with tears. “What about me?” Your voice cracked.

Guilt flashed across her expression for a moment, then she stepped forward. “You’ll be fine.” She said firmly. You flinched, she didn’t seem to notice.

Your vision blurred, but she was right—you’ll be fine, you always were. You nodded, and Nancy looked like she was about to say something then backtracked the last moment. “Good.”

You watched her climb into Jonathan’s passenger seat, and a sob left you once they rounded the corner, sinking onto the curb in front of the wheeler's house.

You buried your face into your hands, wiping angrily at the tears that flowed down your cheek. You had no idea how much time had passed when you heard a car pull up, your eyes were stuck on the gravel beneath you, not bothering to see who it was.

“…Hey.” The voice caused you to look up immediately, Steve was standing right in front of you, his expression shifting the second he saw the wet patches on your face.

“What happened?” He rushed out.

You looked away, he must be here for the same reason you had been. “Nothing.”

Steve nodded, though he didn’t buy it for a minute. Sighing, he crouched down to sit beside you on the curb, only a few inches of space left remaining between you. Finally he spoke, “you can tell me, you know.” His voice softened, but he didn’t turn to look at you yet.

“She doesn’t have time for me anymore.” The confession felt humiliating, you realized you had said it to her boyfriend one second too late. Steve knew what you were talking about, because he’d seen the way Nancy was always halfway out the door lately.

Anger flashed through him, not directed at you, but towards the situation, at what he could’ve done. Instead of acting on it, he simply shrugged off his jacket.

You looked confused, but before you could protest, he draped it over your shoulders, the fabric was still warm from his body. Your throat tightened, the gesture felt surprisingly more intimate than you liked. “Steve…”

“It’s cold out,” he said, like it explained everything. You pulled the jacket closer anyway, not responding, and the silence felt more comfortable than it usually did.

After a couple of moments, Steve sighed. “Look at us, just sitting on the side of the road.”

You glanced up at his words, suddenly realizing how pathetic you probably looked to anyone else. You couldn’t help but smile at that, if there was someone you’d want to accompany you right now, it was Steve.

And he felt like he’d won a battle seeing that smile, the same warmth that swept over him that night swimming settled in his chest once again.

He looked at you in the evening light, his jacket hanging off your shoulders, the faint smile that replaced your tears. His breath caught—the realization hitting him all at once. He didn’t just feel empathy for his girlfriend's best friend, he was feeling something he absolutely should not be feeling.

You looked back at him, your eyes connecting in a way they hadn’t before. There was no distance or interruptions to pull his gaze away, and his eyes dropped briefly to your lips. Then snapped back up a second later, no.

He couldn’t.

Nancy was still his girlfriend, and you were hurt.

The last thing he wanted was for this moment to become something you’d regret, so he stood up clearing his throat.

“You wanna go home?” He asked gently.

The question startled you. “What?” You stared at him.

“I’ll drive you.” Steve said, lowering his hand for you to use. A smile slowly spread across your face, and Steve’s stomach managed to flip all over again. This was very, very bad.

The Byers house felt wrong the moment you stepped inside. They had called you for backup which wasn’t fair considering Nancy had ostracized you for the past few weeks, though she promised to explain everything when you showed up.

But there wasn’t enough time, the air was heavy like something in the walls was holding its breath. Jonathan was already inside, moving quickly through the living room and checking windows, the strange cluster of lights strung up across the walls.

They were Christmas lights that blinked brightly in uneven patterns, almost as if they were saying something.

You frowned at the sight, goosebumps crawling up your skin. “Okay…Nancy, what’s going on?” You asked, fearing the worst.

Nancy glanced at you, hesitating. You matched her look of silent communication, she was telling you to brace yourself, for what, you didn’t know.

“Stay close,” she whispered.

“It’s here.” Jonathan finally spoke, eyes glued to the walls.

You blinked, chest feeling heavier. “What’s here?”

Before either of them could answer, a low scraping sound rolled through the house. Deep enough to make your stomach drop and for all three of you to freeze.

Nancy stepped slightly in front of you without thinking, “did you hear that?”

It came again, closer this time, dragging across wood as a sharp crack sounded from above. You flinched, ducking low.

Jonathan’s voice was tight, holding what looked like a weapon in his hands. “It’s trying to get in.”

“Trying to get in where?” You demanded, panic rising now. Nancy opened her mouth—

And the ceiling above you cracked as dust fell in, then stronger like something had hit it from the other side.

Your heart slammed against your ribs, what had they dragged you into? “No,” you breathed, “no, no—what’s going on?”

Before anyone could react, the front door swung open hard. Steve stood there, eyes wide and stuck at the scene unfolding in the living room.

“What is going on?” He yelled, at the exact moment, Nancy fired her shotgun at the ceiling, though it did no damage to whatever was coming for you.

“Steve, you need to leave!” Nancy cried out, all of you stepping back as another crack came.

“It’s not safe, get out now!” Jonathan demanded, his eyes not turning toward him.

You realized at that moment you were the only one unarmed, eyes locking behind you with Steve’s, he instantly caught the look of fear in yours, he couldn’t leave you in this mess.

In the next flash of a moment, Steve was in front of you before you even realized it, hands at his side protectively. “No, I’m not leaving!” He responded, and the ceiling burst open with a violent crash, something dropped into the house.

It wasn’t like anything you’ve ever seen. It was alive and breathing, and the demogorgon moved fast, too fast.

“Go, go!” Nancy yelled as she and Jonathan ran out the room, but when you attempted to follow suit, you tripped on one of their wire traps, sending you flying across the floor, bait for the demogorgon.

Steve immediately turned back, stepping between you and the creature with a wooden bat clutched in his hands. “Stay behind me!” He instructed, the bat connected with a sickening crack as it lunged towards you.

It recoiled and you barely had time to register what was happening before Steve grabbed your wrist and pulled you back. “Move!” He snapped.

Nancy stared at him like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. This wasn’t the Steve she knew, but he wasn’t looking at her. He kept his body between you and the demo as it screeched and lunged again, Steve was quick to batter it back down.

“Steve!” Nancy shouted, but he couldn’t hear it.

Every hit was aimed at keeping it away from you, he didn’t know why but the thought of the creature harming you rather than him or anyone else made something ugly shine through his hits.

The demo screamed at the damage down, then retreated back to scramble up through the broken ceiling as quickly as it had come down.

Silence enveloped the whole house, until only broken breathing remained. You were shaking, you hadn’t even realized until Steve turned back towards you.

“Are you hurt?” He asked with concern, looking over your form.

You shook your head immediately. “No.”

His grip loosened and he released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Nancy was staring at him, like something had clicked into place at your interaction.

Steve finally lowered the bat. “What the hell was that?” He asked exhaustedly.

No one answered, having no idea where to start.

When the chaos had finally settled, the air outside the Byers house felt colder than before.

Nancy stood near the porch steps with Steve, thinking about how Steve had gone to check on you first.

She watched him for a long time before cutting through the silence. “You ran in there like that, without knowing what it was.”

Steve didn’t look at her, he wasn’t guilty—just processing. “I saw it go after her.”

Nancy’s expression tightened, her voice softening. “You didn’t even look at me when you came in.”

Steve frowned, “what?”

Her eyes flickered around his face. “When you walked through that door,” she said slowly. “You went straight to her.”

Steve froze, because she was right. He hadn’t even realized it, in the middle of danger his first thought was to protect you.

Nancy crossed her arms tightly, “I should’ve noticed it sooner.” She said regretfully.

“Noticed what?” Steve blinked.

She let out a quiet breath. “How often you asked where she was, how you kept having these silent little moments I tried turning a blind eye to. How your first thought was always her, not me.”

Steve’s stomach dropped, he hadn’t expected things to turn out this way. When he first met you, he only knew you as Nancy’s shy best friend. But in an even shorter time than that, you managed to get close to him in a way others weren’t able to.

“Nancy—” he tried explaining.

She huffed. “You like her don’t you?”

The words hung between them unavoidably. Steve’s eyes flickered to the door where you sat inside on the couch, still shaking and wearing his jacket from last night. And for the first time, he knew what he had to do.

“Yeah.” He admitted quietly.

“Yeah.” Nancy said feeling defeated. “Thats what I thought.”

The drive home was quieter than Steve expected, there were too many things neither of you knew how to say out loud yet. He kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear shift, turning to glance at you every so often.

You were still wearing his jacket, it was the only thing that was keeping you grounded. He suddenly pulled the car to a stop, filling the car with sound for the first time since you’ve climbed in. “It’s alright if you’re not okay.” He said.

A beat passed, “I just mean…” he hesitated. “That was a lot.”

You stared down at your hands. “I’m fine.” You said above a whisper.

Steve didn’t push, even though you expected him to, he just nodded slightly. “Okay.”

He paused, sucking in a breath. “I’m not great at this kind of stuff.” He admitted.

You looked over. “What kind of stuff?” You asked.

Steve looked like he didn’t want to elaborate but did so anyway. “The—feeling thing.”

That made you let out a small broken laugh. “Yeah, me neither.” You agreed, earning the faintest smile from him.

“Back there, at the house.” Steve started, your chest tightened, but he didn’t stop, because if he didn’t say it now, he didn’t know when he’d have the courage to next time. “I wasn’t thinking, I just saw you and—”

He stopped himself and swallowed thickly. “I can’t explain it, I just moved.” You stayed quiet at that, knowing exactly what he meant.

Steve’s jaw flexed. “I guess what I’m trying to say is…” he paused again, words sounding jumbled from the recent events and the talk he had with Nancy. “I care about you, and I couldn’t leave you like that.”

You fully looked up, staring at the side of his face, but if he looked at you now, he’d lose all control. “I know I really shouldn’t be saying this right now.” Steve exhaled, your heart was stuttering much louder than it had been when the demogorgon clawed its way at you.

“But I have to.” Steve continued, pausing to face you completely.

“I like you.” He said, much quieter, fearful. You stared at him, no clear emotion written on your face.

Steve suddenly cleared his throat. “I probably should’ve waited,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” you whispered, squeezing your hands together, but you couldn’t think clearly.

“I didn’t think you noticed me like that.” You said, and Steve let out a breathless laugh.

“I didn’t either.” You looked back up at him, and could see how nervous he was. That realization made something warm spread through your chest so fast it almost scared you.

You swallowed through your fears. “I like you too.” You said, and Steve froze completely.

Then he let out a short, disbelieving laugh and looked away, running a hand through his unruly hair. “Okay. That’s uh—”

You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. “That's what?”

His eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them. “I didn’t think that was possible.” He admitted, smiling now too.

“So…that’s a yes?” He asked, exhaling slowly.

You blinked before letting out a quiet laugh. “Steve.”

“What?” He rushed out.

“That was a very bad time to ask that.” He grinned despite himself.

“Yeah, I know.” He paused, but didn’t give up. “But is it?”

You looked at him, really looked at him before nodding once. “Yeah.”

Steve’s shoulders visibly relaxed, all the tension escaping at your answer. “Okay.” He smiled at you, you left the car thinking of how much of an idiot Steve was, but he was an idiot with a big heart.

You found Nancy sitting outside school two days later, she saw you approaching immediately and her shoulders tensed, yours did too.

Neither of you seemed to know where to start, before Nancy sighed, forcing herself to look at you.

“I’ve been trying to figure out what to say.” She admitted, looking just as heartbroken as you.

“I don’t think there’s a perfect thing to say.” You said, earning a small smile.

You both sat in silence for another beat. “I was a terrible friend.” She laughed humorlessly.

The confession caught you off guard, Nancy’s gaze was elsewhere. “I kept thinking I’d make it up to you later. I thought just because you understood me…you’d wait.”

You had waited, every single time. But she never came back. “Nancy—”

“And I hurt you.” The words settled heavily between you, it was what needed to be said, but the force of it was still surprising.

“I really messed things up.” Tears were flowing down both of your faces, but you still managed to huff out a small laugh.

“We both did.” You said, shaking your head. Nancy nodded, taking your hand in hers, leaning her head against your shoulder.

For a moment, both of you just stayed like that, content in each other's embrace. You missed this, what your friendship felt like before relationships and outer dimensional creatures, but there was no going back now.

Then Nancy smiled weakly. “Steve likes you.”

Your eyes widened immediately, groaning. “Nancy. Oh my god.”

Nancy laughed, a real laugh that brought a smile to your own face. “You should’ve seen his face.” She continued, and you buried your face into your hands.

“I think he really cares about you.” Her smile softened, your hands slowly dropped as the amusement faded from both of your expressions.

Nancy hesitated before quietly adding. “I think you care about him too.”

You didn’t answer, and that was enough. A realization flickered across her face, not sadness, or jealousy. Just quiet acceptance that people had changed, and growing up meant accepting that.

“You know…” you looked up at her, her eyes shining with emotion. “We might not be the same after this. But I’d like to try.”

–

steve harrington hasn’t been the luckiest with love, that much is certain to anyone who has as much as glanced his way in the last four years, but, god, he’s in love with you.

he can’t quite place the exact moment he started feeling this way, all he knows is that one day he glanced over your way, met your eyes, and it felt like his entire stomach twisted inside out and his body turned to goo.

he doesn’t have a clue how it started, maybe it was the way you always seem to laugh at his jokes, or the way you huff with an eyeroll whenever murray said something a little too distasteful. it could’ve been the fact that you come into the squawk every morning with coffee for him and robin from the cafe you work at, always just the way he likes it, and you hand it off to him with a small smile every time.

it could’ve been how funny you are, or how smart, or kind, or pretty, but steve thinks it must’ve been a mix of all of those things, because he loves everything about you. it’s been almost six months of feeling this way.

and, yeah, he’s definitely in love with you.

robin groans loudly as steve watches you leave the squawk one friday morning after bringing them coffee, as per usual, giving him a glance over your shoulder and a little wave as you walked out the door.

steve raised his hand to wave back, a dumb smile making it’s way onto his face easily before you slip from view, and he sighs.

robin shakes her head disapprovingly, murmuring under her breath, and steve looks away from the glass front doors and over at her.

“what was that, buckley?” he questions, not aggressively, but as if he’s challenging her to repeat whatever snide remark she had muttered to herself.

“all i said was, ‘god, you are pathetic, harrington.” robin repeats and steve shoots her a glare from his place by the soundboard, surrounded by tapes of different comedic sound effects.

there’s a record spinning by robin’s side, playing a song steve never would’ve picked but robin had insisted was ‘better than anything he listens to’. robin spins around on her chair to face him properly, shooting him a look from across the room.

“i mean, how long has it been steve, really? six months?” she asks and he sighs, reaching for his coffee and raising the paper cup to his lips.

“eight.” he corrects quietly before taking a sip and robin’s eyebrows shoot up.

“eight months. so you’ve been in love with her for half of this quarantine we’ve been stuck in, and the most you’ve done is smile at her a little differently?” robin shakes her head and steve scrunches his nose.

“who made you the love expert, huh? what happened to me being the one giving you advice?” he asks and she snorts.

“uh, how about the fact that i’m the one with a girlfriend here, meanwhile you’ve been pining for the better half of a year and have gotten nowhere.” robin spins around to face her microphone and adjusts a dial in front of her. “anyway, i think she’s going to eddie’s party tonight.”

“who, vickie?” steve asks and robin rolls her eyes so hard it looks like they might fall out of her head. and when robin says your name as if it was obvious, steve’s tummy fills with warmth and a smile appears on his face.

he wishes you could feel how he feels when somebody says your name. it’s almost like he’s going to be sick, but in a good way.

“really?”

“yes, dingus. maybe tonight’s your chance to work up the courage and finally say something.” robin says. “you know, confess? or, at least, ask her out.”

steve bites the inside of his lip and thinks for a moment, then groans because of course robin’s right, but he has no idea what he’d even say. he can hardly talk to you past a basic greeting or some small talk.

but then again, a party hosted by eddie means alcohol, and pot. maybe something there can help steve find the right words. no, that’s stupid.

he sighs and drops down onto his chair. “robin, i can’t do this. what if i say something and she’s just totally weirded out? i can’t risk that, it’ll kill me. like, actually, kill me.”

robin stares at him mid motion as she places a new record on one of the players, then sighs again.

“robin!” he exclaims but she quickly shushes him, holding a finger to her lips as the previous song dies down and she pulls her microphone down towards her mouth.

“goooood morning hawkins! glad you could join us on this beautiful friday morning.” robin shoots steve a glance over her shoulder and a mischievous smile slips onto her lips. “this next one goes out to my partner in crime, soundboard stevie, who’s been feeling a little lovesick as of late. who’s the lucky girl to have won steve ‘the hair’ harrington’s heart? well, we’ll have to wait and see if he has the guts to say anything to her…”

“robin!” steve hisses across the room, not caring that they’re on air, and she just giggles in response.

“take it away, olivia…” robin says and the opening to ‘hopelessly devoted to you’ by olivia newton-john fills the small sound booth. steve shakes his head and robin just grins over at him. “what?”

“what if she was listening to that, robin?” steve huffs, crossing his arms over his chest a little dramatically, similar to the way tantruming toddler would. “then what?”

“then i could be doing you a favor!” she points out but steve runs his hands through his styled hair, tugging lightly as he exhales.

“i feel like i’m going insane.” he tells her and she shrugs.

“save it for tonight.”

–

the air at eddie’s place is thick, a mix of smoke and heat from the large number of bodies filling the small house, and steve is perched on the couch between eddie and jonathan as they smoke, his eyes scanning the party, searching every face for yours. his nails dig into the denim of his jeans, and his friends seem to notice.

“what’s wrong with you, harrington?” eddie asks, holding out his blunt like an offering but steve shakes his head.

he opens his mouth to answer, but robin cuts in as she walks over with two cups and you right by her side.

steve’s mouth goes dry as he looks up at you, his eyes lingering on the cut of your shirt for maybe a moment too long before they reach your face. you’re smiling down at him.

“hi, steve.” you greet brightly and steve finds himself rubbing his palms against his thighs, like he’s wiping away imaginary sweat. he practically jumps to his feet and gives his best attempt at a charming smile. his friends all share glances behind his back.

“uh, hey,” when your name leaves his mouth, steve hears a quiet ‘oh,’ come from jonathan behind him and he’s immediately reminded that the two of you aren’t the only people in the room and, in fact, you’re standing in the middle of a party quite literally surrounded by your friends. steve awkwardly gestures toward the spot he had just been sitting in. “uh, here.”

“oh.” you stare at him for a moment and steve’s eyes flick over to robin’s in a brief moment of panic before you smile. “thanks, steve.”

“uh, yeah, sure. no problem.” he thinks he’s playing it cool, but everyone can see the way he shifts nervously on his feet.

“well, i’m getting another drink.” nancy says, standing up from her place on jonathan’s other side and pulling her boyfriend up with her. “anyone else want anything?”

“i just got a drink.” robin raises her cup. “but i’m gonna go find vickie, anyway.”

“i’ll come.” eddie jumps to his feet, winking at steve as he does so, and steve shoots robin a glare. she holds her hands up in surrender, mouthing that she didn’t say anything.

“can you guys get me a drink?” steve asks before taking jonathan’s seat on the couch and sitting down beside you. someone nods and soon the others all disappear, leaving the two of you sitting there alone.

to steve, the moment feels so right, the two of you sitting side-by-side, close enough that your legs are touching, but he also feels so wrong. his heart won’t stop beating, his stomach flips with each brush of your hand and when you look his way he forgets his train of thought.

he feels insane, worse than he had this morning, because now you’re next to him. now he’s not imagining what you’ll say if you speak to him, because right now you’re telling him about your day at work and your voice is like music to his ears.

the two of you sit there and talk for what feels like hours but was likely just 15 minutes before steve stands up.

“i’ll be back in a second.” he tells you before hurrying off, heading towards the kitchen first. he weaves his way through the sea of people filling the room, searching the house until he finds robin. she’s holed up in a corner, giggling with vickie, but still looks up when steve stops before them.

“what’s up?” she asks and he takes a deep breath, close to hyperventilating as he stares at her. he looks over his shoulder and back to where you’re sitting on the couch, giggling at something eddie’s saying as he holds two cups in his hands, one of those likely steve’s drink.

he faces robin and takes a deep breath. “how do i tell her?”

–

he’s given himself until monday morning. he’s got until monday morning to come up with a plan, because he’s going to tell you he loves you then.

the idea robin gave him is as follows, pick a song that explains how he feels about you, dedicate it to you on the squawk on monday morning, then when you come by with coffees he can actually talk to you and ask you out.

go big or go home, right?

the only issue is that steve has no idea what song to pick. it has to be perfect, it has to encapsulate exactly how strongly he feels for you, how you make him feel.

he wants you so badly that it feels like he can’t breathe when he’s away from you. his body feels like it’s been lit ablaze whenever you touch him, and he’s melting the moment your eyes meet his. you’re everywhere, even in his dreams.

he’s in love with you, he knows it. but is there even a song that can describe the way he feels about you?

steve’s been thinking, trying to come up with song ideas, while he’s been tossing and turning in his bed, unable to sleep because he can’t stop thinking about you.

he spends his entire weekend writing lists of song ideas, scanning the shelves of vinyls at the wsqk radio station for ideas, but none of them are right. none of them are perfect.

robin tells him he’s gonna regret it if he doesn’t have a song soon, the longer he waits to confess the less chance he’ll have. but how is he supposed to do this when every song he listens to doesn’t even begin to describe his feelings?

by the time monday morning comes around steve wakes up in a sweat, and not just from the summer heat.

he had a dream about you and now his boxers feel too tight. he slides a hand down, brushing against the scars healed over on his tumny, before squeezing his clothed bulge for some kind of relief.

but then he realizes. he still doesn’t have a song.

he makes it to the squawk tired, a little horny, and pissed off. and when he pushes open the glass front doors open and is immediately met with robin’s wide smile.

“so…” she starts as he drops his backpack by his chair in the booth. “today’s the day, loverboy. you got a song?”

he just groans in response, dropping down in his chair before immediately standing back up and walking out of the booth, over to the shelves of records.

“i’m taking that as a ‘no’?” robin says.

“how the hell am i supposed to do this?” he asks and robin stares at him in confusion.

“what do you mean? just pick a love song and—”

“but it can’t just be any love song, robin, it has to be perfect!” he exclaims frustratedly, hands finding their way to his hair immediately. “i feel like i’m going insane here, because the song has to be perfect, it has to tell her exactly how i feel and how in love with her i am but that seems impossible because i want her more than any stupid song could ever say and i have no idea how to explain that!”

“oh.”

the sound of a voice behind him makes steve freeze, then slowly turn around. you’re standing inside the squawk building, holding two coffees in your hands, and staring at him with wide eyes, like you just witnessed something you shouldn’t have.

“uh, hey.” steve slips a hand into his pocket in an attempt to seem casual. “i, uh, didn’t realize you were… you’re– you’re early.”

“yeah.” you say, and your eyes shift over to robin. “uh, robin asked me if i could come by a little earlier today…”

steve shoots her a glare over his shoulder and she just shrugs, walking towards you and asking which coffee is hers. then she takes it, thanks you, and leaves the room saying, “i’ll leave you two alone.”

the silence is awkward immediately. steve’s panicking internally, and you’re just watching him.

“so, uh, how much of that did you hear?” he asks and you chuckle.

“well, all of it.” you reply. “i was kinda pulling into the driveway when you got here. i think you might’ve been just a little distracted.”

“right.” steve nods and you do the same, a little awkwardly, before you step forward and hold out his drink. “yeah, thanks.”

he takes the coffee and stares down at it. he has to say something now. he has to.

“lucky girl.” you speak first and he looks back up at you.

“hm?” he looks puzzled.

“the girl you were talking about.” you clarify. “the one you said you were in love with. you know? ‘i want her more than any stupid song could say’? she sounds lucky. you’re a good guy, steve.”

you give him a small smile, different to the one you usually give him, this one’s sadder, and it takes steve a moment to process exactly why as you turn back towards the front doors.

“she’s you!” he blurts out and you spin around.

“what?” you stare at him, you blink once, and steve feels sick.

“you’re the… the ‘lucky girl’ you were talking about.” steve swallows before setting his coffee cup down and walking over to you. “i’m in love with you. i love everything about you, and i’ve just been scared to tell you for months because i don’t want to ruin anything between us. i was gonna do this thing, robin said to, you know, dedicate a song to you on the radio but…”

you haven’t said a word the entire time he’s been talking, but you also aren’t running and screaming, so that’s a good sign.

“not a single stupid song can even scratch the surface of how i feel about you.” he says, and then he waits. he watches you carefully, and you don’t give him a reaction. 

then a smile cracks through your features and relief floods steve’s body.

“well, that’s very lucky for me.” you chuckle breathily. “you know, considering the fact i’m in love with you, too.”

“really?” he asks and you nod rather enthusiastically.

“you kinda make it hard not to.” you confess and he just grins. “i mean, you’re funny, brave, kind, i mean, you’ve definitely grown up a lot since high school and, well, you’re hot.”

he laughs, dragging a hand through his messy brown hair before looking back down at you, your eyes meeting. “so are you.”

a soft chuckle escapes your lips and a moment later you’re both just standing there and staring at each other, now closer than before. steve reaches out to carefully grab your waist.

“can i kiss you?”

“yes.” you say as if it’s obvious and steve’s mouth connects with yours within seconds, probably setting some kind of record with that speed. your hands slide up his body immediately, one gripping his shoulder while the other slides around his neck.

steve pours his entire heart into it, melting into you, moulding into something that’s yours and only yours. he’s not thinking of anything else, just the warmth of your body against his hands and the feeling of your lips on his.

he lifts one hand from your waist to cup your cheek instead, pulling back slightly just to kiss you again, aiming a little higher so he can take your entire upper lip into his mouth.

it’s uncertain exactly how long the two of you just stand there kissing, but the sound of a hand slamming against glass is enough to break you up.

steve looks over to see robin in the soundbooth, tapping her wrist to mimic a watch while saying something neither of you could hear through the walls. looking down at his watch, steve realizes he’s got about five minutes until they’re supposed to be on air.

“shit, i gotta go.” he groans and lowers his wrist. your arms are still linked around his neck. “can i take you out on a date tonight?”

“mm, no.” you say and he frowns. “i think we should skip that step and you should ask me to be your girlfriend.”

the frown disappears just as quickly as it had appeared and steve chuckles. “will you be my girlfriend?”

“yes, of course.” you reply, clearly trying your hardest to hold back a smile and stay composed. steve doesn’t hide his own smile.

“great.” he leans forward and kisses you once more before stepping back, closer to the door to the soundbooth. “i’m gonna pick you up from work later, alright?”

“yeah, alright.” you smile and he nods, opening the door. “steve.”

he turns back quickly. “yeah?”

“your coffee.” you gesture to the cup he had set down a moment earlier and he hurried over to grab it.

“thanks, honey. i’ll see you later, yeah?” he calls out as you head for the door. “i love you!”

“i love you, too!”

steve closes the soundbooth door and takes his place in his chair before he looks over at robin, who’s staring at him with an ‘i told you so’ expression. he gives her a shrug and she rolls her eyes before they’re on air.

“good morning, hawkins! this is wsqk 94.5 fm, ‘the squawk’ and i am your dj, rockin’ robin, and ladies and gentlemen, love is in the air this morning because our very own soundboard stevie has made a move! that’s right, folks, steve’s got a girlfriend. so, to celebrate the very new relationship we’re starting this morning off with a little love song…”

steve queues up a sound effect, but even robin’s teasing and antics can’t wipe the smile from his face.

–

a/n: just a little oneshot before i start posting my new series ahh!!! hope u guys like this one i think it's cute. everyone should go listen to 'you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love' by olivia rodrigo right now!!!

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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Steve looked at her as she and Dustin exchanged a few choice words due to him not being ready to go just yet. She wasn’t wearing anything crazy fancy, so she wasn’t getting ready for a date. Unless if it was later in the evening and she was waiting for he and Dustin to leave so she could get ready? Or maybe, she already had a boyfriend, and he was coming over, so it would be a comfortable night in. Nonetheless, he found himself thinking that even in a simple Hawkins High sweatshirt and joggers, she looked beautiful. Effortlessly so.

He'd noticed her in school, of course. She’d been in his classes most of the time. However, unlike her little brother, she’d left much less of a… colourful impression on him. She had always been a good enough student, better than himself, to be sure (which wasn’t hard), and she’d always been cordial towards him. At the time, though, he’d been mostly unimpressed with her, and too busy maintaining his ‘King Steve’ persona. That meant that they never ended up getting too close, which she didn’t seem too bothered by, and he didn’t ponder over much at all (at the time). They’d only gotten closer (slightly friendlier) when he’d gotten his reality check and had taken Dustin under his wing.

The first night he’d dropped him off and she’d opened the door, she’d been in slight disbelief and had asked Dustin if he was in any trouble and to explain why he was using the famous King of Hawkins as a chauffeur. She’d laughed at their explanation, and had then reintroduced herself to Steve without wavering for a second. Even though they’d already known each other, it had felt like he was meeting her for the first time.

Their brief interactions through the following months were enough for Steve to develop some, like Robin liked to call them, ‘pathetic puppy eyes’ when it came to the older Henderson. And that was precisely the problem. Or rather, one of many. She was Dustin’s older sister, she had a better moral track record than he had had in high school, she was smarter than him, had her life together… plus, Dustin would, at the very least, piss himself if he found out about this crush. If he was lucky, and he wasn’t, that would be the worst of it.

She turned back to him, and it snapped him out of his reverie.

“Sorry, idiot seems to not be ready yet even though I’ve been telling him to get ready for hours. Come in while you wait.” She smiled and stepped aside, letting him walk through the threshold before closing the door behind him. “Our mom’s out tonight. Bingo.” She adds after shutting the door, seemingly feeling like she needed to explain an absence he truthfully hadn’t even noticed. Or maybe she wanted to fill the silence. Either way, he wasn’t about to complain about hearing her voice.

She smiled sheepishly at him, the two of them still only just cordial with one another, the only reason they still had to talk at all being one Dustin Henderson.

“Something to drink?” She offered, shuffling over to the kitchen. She seemed to open the fridge just to do something with her hands, looking at its contents intently, as if she wasn’t already familiar with them.

“Uhhh, I’m okay. Thanks.” His reply came a bit late, slightly (foolishly) distracted by looking at her back and just simply watching her as she moved around in her home. She seemed less stilted here than she had been at school. More comfortable.

“I think…” She shut the fridge and moved over to the cupboards, opening a few specific ones with intent. “Mom bought Boppers a few days ago. She likes them, so she gets them sometimes… you like them too, right?”

“You… know I like Boppers?”

She pulled her head out from behind the cupboard to look at him, and smiled a genuine smile.

“Uh huh. Dustin complained about it a while ago. About how much you talk about them and how “Steve was moaning mid-bite and I wanted to jump out of the car”.” She quoted Dustin with surprising accuracy, her usual stiffness forgotten in lieu of making fun of her brother. Steve realized he’d never really seen this side of her before.

He found himself laughing softly, running a hand through his hair as he pulled off his outer jacket, placing it over the back of a dining room chair.

“Yeahhh, that sounds like Henderson. Or, well, like Dustin. And yeah… a Bopper sounds good.”

She smiled and reached her hand out across the kitchen island, holding out a Bopper for him. He grabbed it, unable to resist a slight ‘miscalculation’ on his part in order to just slightly graze his hand against hers. Both their gazes immediately shot towards the Bopper as it happened, and she seemed to pull away as if burned, dropping the candy bar into Steve’s hand.

“I- Sorry… miscalculated. Bumped my head a time or two too much-” He laughed nervously, instantly berating himself for his dumb line.

“During basketball practice?” She asked, busying herself with getting herself a cold glass of water.

“Huh… basketball? OH, yeah, yeah, no, basketball. In high school. You remember.” He rambled, fiddling with the Bopper wrapper. This was going so bad. But what was ‘this’, anyways? He’d come over to pick up Dustin, nothing else, and now he was being really dumb and embarrassing himself in front of someone who’d seen him acting like a jerk for all of high school. That he now liked. Maybe (probably) she already saw him as a complete idiot. Her boyfriend, too, he thought bitterly, his hair seemingly deflating at the thought of her with a boyfriend. There was no way she didn’t have one, though. He could only hope that she was well taken care of and happy.

She snorted after having gulped half her glass.

“Yeah, I remember. I mean, you were really good… I attended a few games.”

Steve perked up just slightly, fighting an overconfident grin.

“Oh yeah?”

“Well, yeah, I mean you were my classmate… felt like I had to see what you were about.”

He couldn’t stop the grin anymore.

“That right? What did you think?”

“Well, I thought… honestly, I’m not really a big fan of the sport, but you seemed… fast. That’s good, right? Better fast than slow, I always say.” She laughed awkwardly, downing the rest of her water with a grimace. Steve found himself looking at her with a soft, dopey smile all the while. She was so pretty.

He cleared his throat, busying himself with finally unwrapping his Bopper.

“So… why couldn’t you drive Dustin over to the Wheelers’ tonight? Plans?” He asked cautiously, subtly hoping to learn more about her. A crash sounded from Dustin’s room, a shrill “shit!” soon following.

She looked back towards him, steeling herself as she went to sit at the island counter.

“Oh, yeah, I guess… I mean, I also got kinda sick of him. He’s been complaining all day. Yknow how he gets.”

Steve nodded knowingly, a smirk pulling at his mouth as he finally bit into the Bopper.

“Oh yeah, when he doesn’t get his afternoon nap in.” He muttered, heart jumping as his joke earned him a genuine laugh from her.

“Uh huh, he’d seriously benefit from those.”

Steve nodded through his smile, looking down at the wood of the counter in a semblance of nonchalance even though his heart was thudding hard and fast in his chest as the conversation came to a gentle lull.

“So…” He cleared his throat, looking back up into her eyes. “Plans with your boyfriend?” He asked, the words tumbling out before busying his mouth by biting into the Bopper again so as to make his mind focus on chewing instead of overthinking.

She cocked her head, looking at him chew.

“Nope...” She popped the ‘p’. “No boyfriend.”

Steve almost choked on his bite, looking up at her in disbelief as she laughed at his expression.

“What- seriously?” He sputtered out, voice going a little (embarrassingly) high. He ran a hand through his hair again, seeing her eyes follow the movement. What was happening? Was he actually getting somewhere in a situation he’d thought was hopeless? Has Steve Harrington still got it?

He tried to temper his excitement, his foot tapping against the floor quickly nonetheless, happy she couldn’t see it from where she was sitting. All at once, everything seemed lighter, the trees seemed greener, the sky outside seemed brighter, even though it was pitch black out on a cold November’s night. Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington, he though proudly, letting this hit of adrenaline take him over as his smile widened, his Bopper forgotten. He didn’t need the rush from the sugar anymore; he’d gotten it all from this beautiful girl laughing at his stupid jokes and confirming that she was (somehow) single. If only Robin could see him now. She wouldn’t believe this when he called her later tonight.

Right as he was about to let his charm take over, Dustin had the audacity to finally step into the living room.

“I’m done now.” Dustin sassed, looking past Steve at his sister.

“Good job, dumbass. Doesn’t help though, because you should’ve been done an hour ago.” She sassed back, earning herself a middle finger in return.

Steve had never been turned on by the word ‘dumbass’ before. He would volunteer to drive Dustin around every single day if it meant he’d get to see more of this side of her.

“Why do you even care? You’re staying in on a Friday night, like a grandma.” Dustin retorted, walking towards the front door with the clear intent to get going.

“Because you kept your personal valet waiting, genius. I’ll tell Steve to go next time.” She warned, watching Dustin fixing his jacket as he signalled to Steve to get ready to go.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’d listen to you…” Dustin muttered.

Steve grabbed his jacket with a final smile her way, looking her over one last time.

“I’ll see ya…” He said softly.

She nodded back, smiling gently, too.

“Uh huh, see ya. Stay safe!” She replied, that last part meant for the both of them.

When she locked the door behind them once they’d left the house, Steve let out a loud sigh. The street was quiet as they got into his car. It was only when they finally drove off towards the Wheeler house that Dustin broke the silence, his tone extremely casual for what was said.

“tyler, what are you-” your chest tightens painfully.

“no.” he holds a hand up immediately, eyes still locked on your face. “no, wait a second.”

steve’s shoulders tense beside the door.

you can practically feel the anger rolling off him already.

but tyler keeps staring at you, specifically at your mouth.

and the longer he looks, the uglier his expression gets.

“are you serious right now?” he asks quietly.

you open your mouth but nothing comes out. because what can you even say at this point?

tyler notices that immediately too. his jaw tightens hard.

“wow.” he repeats, quieter this time. “we have a bad argument and stop talking for like one week and this is what happens?”

“it’s not-” you start before he cuts you off.

“don’t.” his voice sharpens instantly, getting closer to you. “don’t lie to me right now.”

steve steps in before you can answer.

“alright tyler, watch your tone.”

tyler’s head snaps toward him so fast it almost makes you flinch. “excuse me?”

“you heard me.” steve says coldly.

and there it is, that immediate tension between them. that thing that’s always existed every single time they’re in the same room together.

tyler’s always hated how close you and steve are.

and steve’s always hated the way tyler treats you.

but now? now there’s proof. at least for tyler.

he laughs again, but this time it sounds genuinely angry.

“this shit is unbelievable.” he points between you two. “seriously? him?”

“tyler let’s just talk first-” you whisper.

“no, i wanna hear this.” his eyes go back to you immediately. “i wanna hear you explain why your best friend opens the door looking like that, and you’re standing behind him looking like you just got done making out.”

your face burns.

steve’s jaw clenches so hard you can see the muscle tick. “that’s enough, tyler.”

“stay out of it.”

“not happening.”

tyler scoffs. “of course not. captain fucking harrington to the rescue, right?”

“tyler, stop…” you say quickly, panic rising in your chest. “please. let’s talk in private.”

but now both of them are too worked up.

steve takes one step forward instinctively, putting himself slightly between you and tyler without even realizing it.

“you really don’t even try to hide it, huh?” tyler asks slowly.

“hide what?” steve snaps.

“the fact that you’ve been waiting for this.”

silence.

steve freezes only for half a second but it’s enough, because tyler catches it immediately and suddenly the anger on his face shifts into something worse. something almost bitter.

“holy shit…” he laughs quietly. “you have.”

“please-”

“how long?” he asks, eyes darting between both of you. “huh? how long has this been going on?”

“it hasn’t, ty.” you say immediately.

“bullshit.”

“i’m serious!”

“then why does he look at you like that?” tyler asks.

the room goes dead silent.

your breath catches.

tyler says it so fast. so honestly. like he’s noticed it for longer than either of you realized.

you glance at steve automatically.

big mistake.

the second your eyes meet everything becomes obvious, all over again.

the tension.

the guilt.

the feelings sitting way too close to the surface now.

tyler notices the look. his expression crumples for the briefest second before anger covers it again.

“oh my god,” he mutters. “i was so fucking stupid for trusting you. you’re in love with him.”

“tyler, stop-”

“are you?”

you can’t answer.

that silence destroys him.

“wow.” his voice cracks slightly around the word.

in the middle of the tension, steve’s world stopped as soon as you didn’t answer tyler’s question. you were in love with him. and suddenly some of the anger leaves his face too, replaced by guilt. real guilt. because despite everything, despite how much he loved you, he never actually wanted to hurt you. or even tyler, really.

he just wanted you.

tyler shakes his head slowly, laughing again like he can’t believe this is happening.

“you know what’s crazy?” he says quietly. “i used to think i was insane.”

nobody says anything.

his eyes stay on you.

“every time i brought him up, you defended him.” he points at steve without looking away from you. “every single time.”

your throat tightens.

“and every time we fought, where’d you go?” he asks. “him. always.”

steve looks away briefly at that, because he knows it’s true.

“i thought i was just jealous.” tyler continues bitterly. “but i’m not crazy, am i?”

more silence.

“god, you kissed him fast.”

“tyler, you don’t know that.” you whisper sharply.

“what?” he snaps. “am i wrong?”

steve steps forward immediately. “okay, that’s enough.”

“or what?”

“or you leave.”

“you are in her house telling me to leave?” tyler stares at him in disbelief.

“yeah.” steve says coldly. “because you have no place to talk and you’re upsetting her.”

his eyes flick between both of you again before settling on you and suddenly he looks tired.

“did you even feel bad?” he asks quietly.

the question hits like a punch because the answer is horrible.

you do feel bad. but not bad enough to regret kissing steve.

that realization makes you feel even worse.

your silence says everything.

tyler looks at you for a long second, then nods slowly like he understands. like he hates that he understands.

“right.” tyler says quietly.

steve glances back at you immediately, concern flashing across his face at how overwhelmed you suddenly look.

“you are literally exactly the kind of guy i thought you were.” tyler turns to steve.

“and what kind is that?” steve says coldly.

“the guy waiting around for someone else’s girlfriend.”

“okay.” steve takes a step forward instantly.

“steve, don’t.” you warn quickly.

but tyler’s already spiraling now. he points at you suddenly.

“and you.” he laughs again, completely disbelieving. “you make me sick.”

your stomach twists.

“i didn’t mean for this to happen, tyler.”

“bullshit.”

“tyler-”

“you expect me to believe this just magically happened tonight?” he asks loudly. “look at you two.”

you probably look exactly like what just happened.

your lipstick’s ruined.

and the tension between you and steve is still practically visible in the room.

tyler notices everything and it’s making him angrier by the second.

“fucking hell.” he mutters, dragging his hands over his face. “i knew it. i fucking knew it.”

“knew what?” you snap suddenly, frustration finally boiling over too.

“that he wanted you!”

“and you know what?” your voice shakes but still raises. “maybe i liked having somebody around who actually acted like they gave a shit about me!”

the room goes dead silent.

tyler stares at you.

steve looks at you too now, his expression softening instantly despite the disaster unfolding around him.

“there it is,” he says quietly, chuckling sarcastically. “look at him.”

you wish he’d stop saying things out loud, because every time he does, it makes everything more real.

“he looks at you like you hung the fucking moon.” tyler says, voice dripping with frustration. “and you, you eat that shit up.”

“please, tyler…” your head starts to spin.

“no, seriously, this is pathetic.”

steve steps forward again. “don’t call her pathetic.”

“i wasn’t talking about her.” tyler shoots back instantly. “i’m talking about you.”

steve goes still.

tyler laughs harshly.

“you think this means something?” he asks him. “you think you won because she kissed you?”

“nobody’s trying to win anything.”

“please.” tyler rolls his eyes. “you’ve been circling her like a fucking vulture since day one.”

that one actually pisses steve off.

“careful.”

“or what?” tyler steps closer too now. “you gonna hit me? weren’t you the one who got beaten up by jonathan byers?”

“stop acting like you ever treated her right enough to claim territory here.” steve snaps.

tyler’s entire expression changes.

“claim territory?” he repeats slowly.

“that’s not what i-” steve immediately realizes that came out wrong.

“no, no, say it again.” tyler says, laughing angrily now. “go ahead.”

but he’s locked onto steve now. ego bruised beyond repair.

“you can have her.” tyler says.

your face falls instantly. “excuse me?”

“yeah.” he gestures toward you carelessly, anger making him cruel now. “if she folds this easily for her guy best friend, then maybe she was never worth keeping in the first place.”

his words hit like a slap.

silence crashes through the room.

steve moves before you even process it. “watch your fucking mouth. get the fuck out, man.” his voice is terrifyingly cold now.

tyler scoffs. “this is her house, man. don’t get to boss me around.”

“get out.” you say now.

tyler laughs in disbelief. “wow. look at you.”

he points between both of you again.

“this is gonna be so funny in like three months.”

your stomach twists. “what?”

“when you realize this whole thing is built on sneaking around and emotional cheating and whatever the hell this was.” he gestures wildly. “and he realizes you’re not some perfect little dream girl.”

“stop, leave.” you whisper.

but tyler keeps going.

because he’s angry.

embarrassed.

his ego is hurt.

and he wants to hurt you back now.

“you know what your problem is, babe?” he says. “you like attention. always have. and little king steve over here does exactly that, every single fucking time.”

steve immediately steps between you both.

“okay, you heard her, go.”

“there he is!” tyler laughs loudly. “god, this is embarrassing for you, man.”

steve’s jaw clenches hard. “you’re pushing it. leave.”

“you really think he’s different?” tyler asks you suddenly, eyes locking onto yours around steve’s shoulder. “he’s obsessed with you right now because he couldn’t have you.”

your throat tightens painfully.

“but eventually?” tyler shrugs mockingly. “you’ll just become another girl he got bored of.”

steve looks genuinely furious. hurt too, weirdly enough. but he’s holding back for you, he knows that what tyler saw is already enough.

“you don’t know a damn thing about me.” he says coldly. “and you clearly don’t know a thing about the kind of girl she is.”

“i know your type.”

“and i know yours.” steve fires back. “guys who make girls feel hard to love until they finally run to somebody who doesn’t.”

tyler stares at him.

then at you.

and suddenly he laughs again, except this time it’s quieter. meaner.

“wow.” he shakes his head slowly. “you deserve each other. really.”

your chest aches instantly. somehow that embarrasses you more than yelling would’ve. the disgust in his voice. the judgment, like you and steve are some cliché waiting to implode.

tyler backs toward the door slowly still staring at both of you.

“have fun with this.” he says bitterly.

then his eyes lock onto yours one final time.

and the last thing he says is quiet enough to hurt the most.

“just remember you destroyed a whole relationship for a guy who was waiting around for his turn.”

you physically freeze.

he nods once slowly like that was exactly what he wanted. then he walks out.

the door slams behind him so hard the walls shake slightly.

either way you know that your relationship with tyler was over long before you and steve kissed.

the silence after the door slams is horrible. thick and ringing.

you just stand there staring at the door, heart pounding so hard it almost hurts, tyler’s last words still echoing around your head.

waiting around for his turn.

your stomach twists violently.

suddenly everything feels disgusting. the kiss, the tension, your feelings. all of it.

you wrap your arms around yourself tighter like it’ll somehow hold you together, breathing unevenly while humiliation crawls hot beneath your skin.

behind you, steve is quiet for a second.

then softly. “hey.”

his voice is careful now. he already knows you’re seconds away from falling apart.

you close your eyes briefly because hearing him right now only makes everything worse.

you can still feel his lips on yours.

and tyler’s words keep replaying over them like poison.

waiting around for his turn.

you hear steve take one small step closer. hesitant this time. which almost never happens with you. but now he’s careful like he doesn’t know if he’s still allowed to.

“baby...” he says softly.

your chest tightens painfully. “don’t, steve.”

your tone comes out sharper than you mean it to.

steve immediately stops moving.

you stare hard at the floor, blinking rapidly because tears are starting to burn behind your eyes and you absolutely refuse to cry right now.

“don’t what?” he asks quietly.

you laugh once under your breath.

except it sounds awful.

“don’t call me that right now.”

steve goes still. completely still.

and immediately guilt crashes into you for that too.

because his face, jesus...

“yeah... okay.” he says softly after a second.

no attitude. no defensiveness. just immediate understanding.

which somehow makes you feel even worse.

you shake your head hard, frustrated tears finally slipping down your cheeks.

“this is so messed up.”

“it´s not-”

“no!” you spin around suddenly, emotions spilling over too fast now. “you heard what he said!”

steve’s expression tightens immediately. “yeah, and he was being an asshole.”

“but he’s not completely wrong!”

the second the words leave your mouth, steve freezes.

silence crashes between you both instantly.

that one hurt him. his eyes watch you up and down.

you see it happen.

his jaw tightens slightly.

his eyes flick away for half a second before returning to you carefully.

“you think i was waiting around?” he asks quietly.

and suddenly you realize what you just implied.

waiting around for his turn.

your anger disappears instantly, replaced by horror.

“steve, i didn´t mean it like that.”

“no, it’s okay.” he nods once quickly, even though it clearly isn’t. “i get it.”

“that’s not what i meant.”

“you’re upset.” he says.

his voice stays soft. he’s still trying to take care of you while looking visibly hurt himself. “i know you didn’t mean it like that.”

but you did, a little.

not truly.

not fairly.

but enough for it to sting.

you drag your hands over your face roughly, completely overwhelmed now.

“i’m sorry.” you whisper shakily. “i’m sorry.”

steve’s entire expression softens immediately.

“hey,” he says quietly. “look at me.”

he takes another careful step closer this time.

slow enough to give you room to stop him.

you don’t want to, because your chest feels too heavy and your face is burning and suddenly you feel like the worst person alive.

but eventually your eyes lift to his.

and steve just melts. completely melts the second he sees you crying.

“oh, baby.” he murmurs the nickname softly, completly ignoring your request earlier.

there’s no hesitation in his voice anymore, just concern.

he reaches toward you instinctively before stopping himself halfway.

asking silently this time.

your throat tightens painfully at that.

“i didn’t mean that.” you whisper quickly. “i swear i didn’t.”

steve nods immediately. “i know.”

“no, i really-”

“i know.” he repeats softer.

his eyes don’t leave yours, completely patient.

“you’re overwhelmed right now.”

another tear slips down your cheek. you wipe at it angrily.

“i just feel horrible.”

steve’s face softens so much it almost hurts to look at him. “c’mere.”

his voice is quiet.

you shake your head automatically, not because you don’t want him. because you want him too much.

“baby,” he says again softly. “please.”

your breath catches. you look down at the floor again, shoulders trembling slightly, and after a second, very slowly, you nod.

that’s all it takes.

steve crosses the room immediately, careful but fast, like he’s been restraining himself this entire time. his arms wrap around you gently at first, giving you room to pull away, but the second you melt against him with this shaky little breath, he tightens his hold instantly.

one hand sliding up into your hair while the other presses firmly against your back, pulling you completely against his chest.

“you´re okay.” he whispers softly.

you bury your face into his chest finally, fingers gripping weakly at the back of his shirt while the crying you’ve been trying to hold back starts spilling out properly.

steve just holds you tighter.

“i know.” he murmurs into your hair. “i know, baby.”

his hand keeps moving slowly through your hair, soothing and repetitive and impossibly gentle.

“you’re okay.”

you shake your head against him. “i hurt him.”

“yeah...” steve says quietly, always honest with you. “but that relationship was hurting you too.”

your grip tightens on his shirt.

“still doesn’t make this okay.”

steve exhales softly above you, his cheek resting lightly against the top of your head now.

“maybe not.” he murmurs. “but i’m not gonna stand here and pretend what he did this whole time didn´t hurt you first.”

you close your eyes tightly, letting him hold you, letting yourself sink into the warmth of him despite everything.

steve keeps his arms around you for another few seconds.

just enough for your breathing to calm a little. just enough for the crying to stop feeling so uncontrollable.

then slowly, carefully, he pulls back.

not far, just enough to look at you properly.

his hands slide from your back to your arms briefly before dropping completely, like he’s trying not to overwhelm you now. trying not to push.

you wipe quickly under your eyes, embarrassed immediately, but steve pretends not to notice, or maybe he notices and chooses not to make you feel worse about it.

he stays close though, standing right in front of you in the quiet hallway, watching you carefully like he’s trying to figure out the exact right thing to say.

normally words come easy but not today. today everything feels fragile.

you stare at the floor.

“don’t try to make me feel better about this.” you say.

steve’s face softens immediately. “little late for that.”

you let out this weak, miserable laugh through your nose.

he takes that as a good sign.

“baby,” he says carefully, “you’re acting like you murdered somebody.”

your head snaps up immediately. “steve.”

“i’m serious.”

“i cheated on my boyfriend.” you sigh.

“your ex-boyfriend.” he corrects gently.

you groan softly, dragging your hands over your face again “that does not help.”

“i’m trying here.”

despite everything, there’s something so familiar about the way he says it that your chest aches.

this banter, this rhythm between you it’s always been easy. even now. especially now, maybe.

steve leans lightly back against the wall beside the doorway, giving you space while still staying close enough that you can feel his presence.

“look,” he says quietly. “was tonight messy? yeah.”

you look at him tiredly. “messy.”

“trying to soften the blow.” he smiles softly.

“steve.”

“okay, fine.” he sighs dramatically. “disastrous. catastrophic. emotionally horrifying.”

another tiny laugh almost escapes you before you stop it.

his eyes catch it immediately and soften. god, they soften so easily for you.

you shake your head quickly. “don’t do that.”

his brows furrow. “do what?”

“make me laugh like everything’s okay.”

steve goes quiet for a second at that.

“i don’t think everything’s okay.” he says softly. “really.”

the sincerity in his voice makes your stomach twist.

he continues before you can spiral again.

“i just don’t think you’re some terrible person because of what happened tonight.”

“how can you possibly not?” you stare at him.

“because i was there.”

the answer comes instantly.

“i know what happened.” steve continues.

you cross your arms tightly over yourself. “yeah. we kissed.”

his eyes flick briefly to your mouth again, instinctive. then he looks away almost immediately.

“yeah. we did.” he says quietly.

the silence after that feels warm in the worst way, despite all this guilt, neither of you regrets the kiss itself. and that’s the problem.

steve exhales softly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

“he made it sound like we planned this or something.” he mumbles.

“didn’t we?” you ask weakly. “in some subconscious horrible way?”

steve’s head lifts immediately. “hey. no.”

“but maybe he’s right.” you whisper. “maybe i checked out a long time ago and just…” you laugh shakily. “waited until i had someone else.”

steve’s face tightens instantly. “you didn’t use me.”

“i didn’t say that.”

“you implied it.” steve says.

you go quiet, because maybe you did.

steve shakes his head slightly, looking frustrated now, not at you. at the situation.

“you wanna know what i think?” he says finally.

you look up reluctantly.

“i think you spent a really long time trying to force a relationship to work because you didn’t wanna hurt somebody no matter how much he hurt you.” his voice stays calm. “and i think eventually you got exhausted.”

your throat tightens.

“and yeah,” he continues softly. “i think somewhere along the line, feelings got involved between us.”

his eyes flick to yours carefully then, vulnerable and honest.

“but that doesn’t automatically make you manipulative or cruel, or desperate for attention. you needed someone who understood you and i was there.”

you blink rapidly. hearing him say feelings out loud makes everything feel terrifyingly real again.

“steve…”

“what?” he asks quietly. “you want me to lie?”

you don’t.

he sighs softly, looking down for a second before speaking again. “look, if tonight never happened…” he pauses. “if we never kissed, i still would’ve wanted you to leave him.”

your eyes lift to his immediately.

his expression doesn’t change.

“not because i thought i’d get something out of it,” he says quickly. “before you say it.”

he pushes off the wall slightly.

“i wanted you to leave him because of all the times you came crying to me after he made you feel awful. and maybe because i actually am in love with you.”

‘and maybe because i actually am in love with you.’

the words hang in the room heavily, completely changing it.

you just stare at steve for a second, blinking slowly like your brain physically cannot catch up fast enough.

steve looks like he regrets saying it out loud immediately after. not because it isn’t true, because now it’s real, between both of you.

he lets out a quiet breath through his nose, glancing away briefly before looking back at you.

“well,” he mutters awkwardly. “that kinda slipped out.”

your mouth opens slightly. closes again.

“slipped out?” you repeat incredulously. “you don’t accidentally tell someone you’re in love with them, steve.”

“i know that.” he says quickly. “i’m aware.”

“then why do you sound so calm?!”

that actually makes him laugh softly.

not because it’s funny, he’s just nervous.

you can tell.

“trust me.” he says, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “i am very much not calm right now.”

you stare at him. “you just confessed to me after i cheated on my boyfriend with you.”

“ex-boyfriend.” he corrects you again.

“steve.”

“sorry.”

you look away first, arms crossing tightly over yourself while your thoughts spin violently.

all those moments you ignored, all those looks, all the tension, all the almosts, suddenly they mean something completely different.

you laugh once quietly under your breath. “oh my god.”

steve watches you carefully. “that reaction doesn’t feel super promising.”

your eyes snap back to his immediately. “i’m not reacting badly!”

“okay.”

“i’m not!”

“you just said ‘oh my god’ like i told you i committed tax fraud.” he holds back a giggle.

despite yourself, you huff out a tiny laugh.

steve’s face softens instantly at the sound. it’s subtle but it’s there, that stupid softness he only seems to have with you and that makes your chest ache even worse.

“how long?” you ask quietly.

steve’s smile fades slightly. “seriously?”

“yeah.”

“i don’t know.” he hesitates.

“that’s such a cop-out answer.” you roll your eyes.

“it’s not!” he argues immediately. “i genuinely don’t know.”

“steve.” you whine.

“what do you want me to say?” he asks, throwing his hands up slightly. “that i saw you one day and suddenly violins started playing?”

“you are so annoying.”

“and yet,” he says softly. “you still kissed me.”

“can you stop bringing that up?” your face heats immediately.

his eyebrows lift. “you want me to stop bringing up the life-changing kiss that happened like ten minutes ago?”

“yes, i do.”

“kinda hard, sweetheart.”

you look away from him again quickly.

bad idea. because it gives him time to really look at you and you can feel it, the weight of his eyes moving across your face carefully.

now that everything’s out in the open, he’s allowing himself to look at you differently.

“you’re doing that thing again.” you murmur.

“what thing?”

“looking at me like that.”

steve goes quiet for a second.

“i’ve always looked at you like this.” steve simply says.

your heart almost stops.

the honesty in his voice is devastating.

you blink rapidly, trying to steady yourself. “that’s not helping.”

“i’m not trying to help anymore.”

your eyes snap back to his immediately. steve’s expression shifts slightly then.

“i spent months trying to convince myself this was just me being protective,” he confesses. “or jealous because your boyfriend sucked.”

“he did suck.” you agree.

“thank you!” steve says immediately, pointing at you. “see? that’s all i’m saying.”

despite everything, you laugh softly again.

his mouth twitches slightly like he’s trying not to smile too hard.

“but then it got worse.” he continues.

“worse?”

“way worse.” steve admits.

“how?” you ask.

steve looks at you for a long second before answering. “you’d touch me and i’d think about it for, like, three business days.”

your eyes widen instantly.

he laughs quietly at your reaction, leaning back against the wall again.

“okay, you tell me something now.” he mumbles through a soft smile.

“what?” you ask.

“you seriously never noticed?”

your stomach drops slightly.

you noticed things. you noticed everything. you noticed the way steve always moved closer to you unconsciously. the way his hand always found your back in crowded places. the way he looked at your boyfriends like they personally offended him. the way he remembered every tiny thing about you without trying.

you noticed.

you avoid his eyes immediately which is answer enough.

“you did notice.” he says quietly.

“not fully!” you defend yourself.

“baby.” he groans.

“i thought maybe you were just-”

“hopelessly devoted to you?” he offers.

you groan loudly, covering your face with your hands. “stop talking.”

he laughs softly again.

“you know what the worst part is?” he says.

you peek at him through your fingers suspiciously. “what?”

“robin used to make fun of me for it constantly.”

“what? really?” your hands slowly lower.

“yeah.” he nods once. “apparently i’m not subtle.”

“robin knew you were in love with me?”

“robin knew before i did.”

you stare at him in horror.

“she used to literally kick me under tables whenever i stared at you too long.” steve laughs at your expression.

your jaw drops. “how have i never noticed this?!”

“because you trusted me.” his voice softens slightly after saying it.

and suddenly the mood shifts again.

steve looks at you for a second before speaking again. “i never wanted you uncomfortable around me.”

“you never did." you admit.

“good.”

he means that. seriously.

you shake your head slowly, overwhelmed all over again.

“i just…” you laugh weakly. “i can’t believe this is real.”

“yeah,” steve murmurs softly. “me neither.”

you study him carefully for a second.

“were you really okay never saying anything?” you ask softly.

steve immediately gives you a look. “absolutely not.”

“then why didn’t you?” you laugh softly.

his expression changes slightly, a bit more serious now.

“because you loved somebody else.” he says without bitterness. “and because i knew if i told you, i’d mean it.”

your throat tightens painfully.

steve looks down briefly before continuing quieter. “i didn’t wanna be some guy waiting around hoping your relationship failed.”

tyler’s words flash through your head immediately for the millionth time.

waiting around for his turn.

your expression changes slightly.

steve notices instantly. “don´t look guilty because of what he said.”

you swallow hard. “but what if he’s right about everything?”

“he’s not.” steve’s jaw tightens slightly.

“steve-”

“i didn’t sit around hoping he’d hurt you.” his voice stays calm. “i hoped you’d realize you deserved better.”

your eyes lock onto his and suddenly the tension between you shifts again.

steve takes one slow step closer, not enough to crowd you, just enough that your breath catches.

“and yeah,” he says quietly, eyes flicking briefly to your mouth before returning to your eyes. “a part of me wanted that better to be me.”

your heartbeat stutters violently.

his eyes flick briefly across your face again.

jesus, you do feel awful about tyler.

about how things ended, the humiliation on his face when he left was unbearable… but standing here with steve now, with all this honesty finally sitting out in the open between you, you can’t pretend your feelings disappeared just because the situation hurts.

you swallow hard.

“you make this really difficult…” you whisper.

steve’s expression softens immediately. “i know.”

“no, seriously.” you laugh weakly, shaking your head. “i should probably want space from you right now, steve.”

“do you?” his eyes stay on yours.

the question lands directly in your chest. the answer comes fast, too fast.

no.

not even a little.

you look away from him first.

“that’s the problem.” you say.

steve goes quiet after that.

you can practically see him thinking and holding himself back, trying so hard not to push you when emotions are already everywhere.

even now, even after confessing he’s in love with you, he’s still more worried about overwhelming you than getting what he wants.

your eyes lift back to his slowly.

“say something.” you murmur.

steve lets out the smallest breath through his nose. “dangerous request.”

“why?”

his mouth twitches faintly.

“because i’m trying very hard to behave right now.” he admits, eyes turning dark.

“steve…”

“i’m serious, baby.” his voice lowers slightly. “you’re standing there looking at me like that after kissing me half to death ten minutes ago, and i’m trying not to make this worse for you.”

your breath catches immediately.

the memory hits all over again at the way he says it. the wall against your back while his hands rest on your waist. the way he kissed you like he’d been holding it in forever.

you close your eyes briefly. big mistake.

suddenly you can feel it again.

and when you open them, steve’s already looking at you differently.

his voice softens instantly. “hey.”

“i know i should stop this.” you shake your head weakly.

steve’s jaw tightens slightly at the word should.

“but you don’t want to…” he says quietly.

not a question.

you hate how easily he reads you.

your eyes flick down briefly to his mouth.

steve’s breathing changes immediately. small and subtle.

the tension shifts all over again.

“this feels horrible, steve.” you admit softly.

“kissing me feels horrible?” steve’s brows pull together instantly.

“no.” the answer comes too fast.

your face burns immediately and suddenly steve looks dangerously pleased for half a second before softening again.

“okay.” he murmurs.

you groan softly, embarrassed. “stop looking at me like that.”

all the softness in his face comes rushing back.

“baby,” he says quietly. “i just want you.”

the sincerity in his voice hits hard.

your breath catches painfully because he says it so simply.

and suddenly the space between you and steve feels impossible.

you stare at him for one long second. then another.

and neither of you moves but the air changes anyway.

his eyes flick slowly between yours like he’s trying to decide whether he should stop this before it starts again.

he gives you every opportunity to pull away. every. single. one.

“tell me to back off.” he says softly.

like he’s hanging onto self-control by a thread.

you stare at him, breathing unevenly, because the worst part is that you know he means it. if you asked him to leave right now, he would. no matter how much it hurt him.

somehow that makes this harder.

tyler’s gone. your relationship is over.

you should be crying more than this. you should be devastated. guilty. disgusted with yourself.

instead you’re standing in your hallway staring at steve’s mouth while he looks at you like he’s trying not to cave.

“i hate this…” you whisper suddenly.

steve’s brows pull together instantly. “hate what?”

you laugh softly, but it comes out shaky. frustrated. “the fact that i know i should ask you to leave.”

his expression changes at that, he looks hurt.

he nods once slowly. “okay...”

and he actually starts stepping back.

he just accepts it immediately even though you can physically see how badly he doesn’t want to.

“wait.” you blurt out.

steve stops instantly.

you drag your hands over your face hard enough to make your skin burn. “god, this is so messed up.”

“yeah, i know… no need to tell me that.” he says quietly.

“and you standing there being all understanding is making it worse, steve.”

“what do you want me to do?” he asks softly. “be an asshole?”

“maybe a little.” you confess.

“not really my style with you.” he says.

he says it so naturally, him being gentle with you is instinct.

“you can’t just…” you shake your head helplessly. “you can’t just tell me you’re in love with me and then look at me like that.”

“how am i looking at you?”

you stare at him incredulously. “seriously?”

“i’m asking.” steve says.

“you already know what i’m thinking.” you reply.

steve goes quiet.

“do i?” he breaks silence.

you lean back against the wall with a tired exhale, eyes fixed on the floor. “i feel like such a bad person right now.”

“hey.” the firmness in his voice makes you look up immediately.

steve’s expression has hardened slightly.

“you are not a bad person.” steve says softly.

“steve, i cheated on somebody.”

“after spending months getting treated like shit.”

“that doesn’t excuse it.” you groan.

“i didn’t say it did.” his voice stays calm.

he takes one careful step closer again.

you cross your arms tighter over yourself. “you don’t get it, steve.”

“then explain it to me.” he says.

the answer comes so fast it catches you off guard. he sounds serious, completely open like he genuinely wants to understand every ugly thought in your head right now.

you stare at him for a second, then laugh weakly. “i don’t know how to explain it.”

“try.”

“i just…” your voice cracks slightly. “i feel awful because i hurt him.”

steve nods immediately. “okay...”

“but then i kiss you and i don’t regret it, and that makes me feel worse.” you admit, your voice low to hide the shame.

his eyes flick down to your mouth unconsciously.

you notice.

“you really don’t regret it?” he asks quietly.

“don’t ask me that, steve.” you sigh.

“i wanna hear you say it.” steve whispers.

the tension shifts instantly, your heartbeat stutters.

“steve…”

his eyes stay locked on yours. “come on.”

the softness in his voice makes it worse somehow. less pressure and more intimacy.

you swallow hard.

“no, steve.” you whisper finally. “i don’t regret kissing you.”

steve actually closes his eyes for a second after hearing that like the words physically hit him.

“you have any idea what that does to me?” he murmurs.

“i’m already barely holding it together.” you say.

“you think i’m doing any better?” steve asks.

he takes another slow step closer. close enough now that you can feel the warmth coming off him.

“you know what tonight’s been like for me?” he asks quietly.

you can’t answer.

steve laughs softly under his breath, shaking his head once.“watching you look at me like you wanted me all night and trying not to do something stupid.”

your eyes widen slightly. “i was not-”

he gives you a look. “you were.”

you open your mouth to argue again, then close it.

because honestly?

maybe you were.

his expression softens dangerously.

the air between you suddenly feels too thick to breathe properly.

“this is crazy.” you whisper. “and you’re way too calm about this.”

that makes him laugh.

“i’m not calm.” he steps even closer. “i’m trying very hard not to pin you against this wall and kiss you again.”

you hate how much your body reacts to him. how easy it is.

you shake your head weakly. “you’re impossible.”

“and you’re staring at my mouth again.” he smirks.

your eyes snap upward immediately.

steve’s lips twitch slightly and you see it because you actually were looking at his mouth.

“you’re so annoying.” you whisper.

“yeah?” he murmurs, leaning in just slightly. “still wanna kiss me?”

your stomach flips so hard it almost hurts.

gosh, he’s right and he’s so stupid.

you should stop this. you know you should.

but instead you whisper. “you make me feel insane, steve.”

steve’s face softens instantly at that. something emotional flashes across it so quickly it almost knocks the air from your lungs.

“sweetheart.” he says quietly. “you have been ruining me for, like, years.”

your eyes shut briefly. “that’s not fair.”

“none of this is fair.” steve whispers.

when you open your eyes again, he’s even closer, enough that your noses almost brush. and still he waits, still he lets you decide.

“if i kiss you again,” you whisper shakily. “i’m not gonna be able to pretend this is just a mistake anymore.”

steve’s gaze flicks between your eyes and your mouth slowly.

“good.” he whispers back.

you grab the front of his shirt suddenly and pull him in.

steve makes this low sound against your mouth like he’s been dying for it.

the kiss is immediate and messy. all the guilt and confusion and aching feelings pouring into it at once. intense in a completely different way now.

because now there are no misunderstandings left between you.

his hands slide to your ass instantly, gripping tighter this time as he backs you gently into the wall again.

“fuck.” steve breathes against your mouth.

the word sounds wrecked.

your fingers tangle in his hair again and his head drops slightly at the feeling, it affects him way too much.

“you have no idea-” he murmurs breathlessly, kissing you again before you can ask what he means.

his mouth moves against yours slower this time, like he’s savoring it now that he finally can. and god, the way he touches you, careful but desperate at the same time, is driving you insane.

you can feel it in the way his hands grab your waist instantly, pulling you flush against him with this desperate kind of care, like he can’t decide whether to hold you gently or never let you go again.

the kiss gets deeper fast.

and somewhere between steve backing you against the wall and your fingers tangling into his hair, your hands find the hem of his shirt.

steve reacts immediately when your fingers slide underneath it. his breath catches sharply against your mouth.

“fuck.” he whispers.

you don’t even think about it.

you just tug harder, desperate to touch him, to feel more of him. suddenly the layers between you feel unbearable.

steve breaks the kiss just enough to look at you, breathing hard.

his hair’s a mess already, lips swollen again, eyes completely dark with want and emotion all tangled together.

“baby,” he says softly, almost disbelieving. “you’re killing me.”

your stomach flips violently.

you tug at his shirt again impatiently. “take it off, steve.”

that catches him off guard. his eyebrows lift slightly and for one brief second he just stares at you. then he laughs softly under his breath.

“need you right now, baby.” steve groans.

heat rushes through your entire body and before you can even process the effect his words had on you, steve’s pulling the shirt over his head quickly, tossing it somewhere behind him without looking.

you feel your core shamelessly pulse at the sight.

you’ve seen steve before, obviously.

but not like this. not flushed and breathing hard while looking at you like he wants to crawl under your skin. not standing in front of you after kissing you senseless.

his chest rises unevenly as your eyes drag over him for half a second too long.

steve notices immediately.

“don’t look at me like you’re trying to get me into trouble.” he smirks.

you laugh softly. “pretty sure we’re already there.”

“yeah,” he says quietly, eyes flicking down to your mouth again. “guess we are.”

then he’s kissing you again, harder this time.

now your hands are on him directly, sliding over his hairy chest and shoulders while steve practically melts into every touch. you feel him shiver slightly beneath your fingertips and it sends heat straight through you.

“you’re so sensitive.” you whisper against his mouth.

steve lets out this breathless laugh that sounds almost embarrassed. “only with you.”

ugh, the way he says things.

your fingers drag lightly down his chest and his head drops briefly against your shoulder with a low groan.

“baby…” he groans warningly.

you can’t stop smiling. “what?”

“you know exactly what.”

his hands tighten instinctively at your waist before sliding lower, palms warm against your ass, restless.

he kisses down your jaw slowly, mouth warm against your skin while his hands roam carefully over your sides.

“you’re so pretty.” he murmurs against your neck suddenly. “seriously.” he pulls back just enough to look at you properly again. “you’re ridiculously pretty. it’s actually annoying.”

“that’s your line?” you laugh breathlessly.

“i’m distracted.” he steve replies.

“clearly.”

his eyes flick down your body briefly before returning to your face immediately, almost like he catches himself.

you reach for him again before he can pull too far into his own head, fingers curling lightly around the back of his neck.

“c’mere.” he whispers. “stop pulling away.”

he kisses you slower this time, one hand sliding into your hair while the other settles firmly at your ass again, pulling you into him until you can feel the warmth of his skin everywhere.

steve kisses like he’s losing control of himself slowly.

your hands are still moving over his bare chest, fingers dragging across warm skin while his mouth keeps finding yours again and again, deeper every time, and he’s becoming impossibly more affected by it all.

every little sound you make seems to hit him directly.

every tug of your fingers into his hair, every shaky breath against his mouth. it’s driving him insane.

you feel it the second his body presses closer against yours again.

his breathing catches hard, this time, there’s no hiding how turned on he is.

your stomach flips instantly when you feel him through his jeans, growing bigger every second.

“ah- fuck…” he breathes softly against your mouth, almost a moan.

his forehead drops briefly against yours, eyes squeezed shut for a second like he’s trying to regain composure and failing miserably.

“you okay?” you whisper breathlessly, barely able to stop yourself from laughing.

steve opens his eyes slowly. “you cannot ask me that right now.”

his hand at your ass squeezes, like he’s trying to find balance.

you laugh softly against his mouth.

his lips move to your jaw again, then lower, kissing slowly along your neck while one of his hands slips beneath your shirt.

warm skin against warm skin.

you inhale sharply at the feeling.

steve groans softly against your throat immediately.

“there.” he murmurs quietly. “that sound. jesus.”

your fingers tighten automatically in his hair.

he kisses you harder after that. and suddenly he’s pulling gently at the bottom of your shirt with slightly shaky hands.

his eyes lift to yours immediately after, checking, always checking.

“can i?” he asks softly.

your heartbeat stutters. you nod.

steve pulls your shirt up carefully but quickly, hands warm against your skin as he lifts it over your head and tosses it to the ground.

then he freezes. his eyes drag slowly over you and suddenly he looks almost overwhelmed again because you’re not wearing a bra.

“shit, baby.” he says softly before he can stop himself.

heat rushes to your face immediately. “steve.”

“sorry- no, not sorry, actually.” he laughs breathlessly, staring at you like he’s genuinely lost his mind a little. “holy shit.”

you shove lightly at his shoulder, embarrassed. “stop looking at me like that.”

“i literally can’t.” his voice has gone lower now.

his hands slide slowly up your bare sides like he still can’t believe he’s allowed to touch you like this.

“you are so fucking beautiful. i’m gonna fuck you so good, baby, i promise.” he murmurs.

a moan accidentally leaves your mouth, making steve smirk.

“you have no idea what you do to me.” he says quietly.

your stomach twists violently.

he kisses you again suddenly, hard enough to make you stumble slightly back into the wall. steve catches you immediately, one hand sliding firmly to your waist while the other moves instinctively up your back, holding you against him.

feeling him hard against you like this makes your brain go completely foggy.

you make this tiny involuntary sound against his mouth and steve groans immediately.

“fuck, don’t do that.” his forehead presses against yours again briefly while he breathes hard. “i swear i’m trying to behave.”

the words send another rush of heat through you.

steve’s hands are everywhere.

your waist.

your hips.

your boobs.

your ass.

his fingers hook briefly at the waistband of your shorts while his forehead presses against yours.

“baby,” he mutters breathlessly, half laughing from how overwhelmed he is. “you are making it very hard for me to think.”

“please, steve.” you whisper.

steve groans softly into your mouth, hands tightening at your hips before he steps back just enough to look at you properly.

his chest is rising hard, eyes dark and fixed on you like he’s gone.

then, slower this time, giving you every chance to stop him, his fingers slide more firmly against your waistband.

you nod before he even asks. steve’s eyes flick up to yours immediately at that, visibly affected by the trust in it.

“yeah?” he murmurs.

you nod again, breathless.

he pulls your shorts down quickly but carefully, hands warm against your thighs as he kisses you again immediately after, like he can’t go more than two seconds without your mouth now.

suddenly his hands are under your thighs and he lifts you effortlessly.

you gasp softly in surprise, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist while steve steadies you against him immediately, one arm securely beneath your ass while the other tangles into your hair.

“hi.” he says breathlessly, looking up at you with this dizzy little smile.

you laugh softly despite everything. “show-off.”

“absolutely.”

his forehead bumps lightly against yours before he kisses you again slower this time, deeper, and god, being this close to him feels dangerous.

your fingers slide through his hair while steve walks you both backward blindly, unable to stop kissing you long enough to care where he’s going.

his hands grip your thighs tighter every time you react to him.

every shaky breath, little sound, it’s driving him insane.

he kisses you again before you can hide your face, smiling softly against your mouth when you laugh into the kiss too.

but the smile fades quickly because the way you’re looking at him now, warm and wanting and completely overwhelmed, absolutely wrecks him.

his grip tightens slightly beneath your thighs as his eyes drag over your face as he starts moving.

your legs stay wrapped around steve’s waist while he carries you through the hallway toward the kitchen, one arm locked securely beneath your ass again.

steve kisses you like he’s starving.

there’s barely any talking anymore, just breathless sounds between kisses and hands grabbing desperately at each other like neither of you can get close enough.

his mouth never really leaves yours as he carries you down the hallway toward the kitchen, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist while your fingers stay tangled in his hair.

every few steps he stops walking completely just to kiss you harder, sloppier.

and every single time you react to him, steve groans softly against your mouth like it’s driving him insane.

his grip tightens beneath your thighs when you pull at his hair.

by the time he gets you into the kitchen, both of you are breathing hard.

the tension between you feels overwhelming now, hot and messy and impossible to stop.

steve backs you gently against the counter for half a second just so he can pull away long enough to get his belt undone. his eyes never leave yours while he does it.

you can hear the buckle clink against the kitchen floor a second later before he impatiently pushes his jeans down and kicks them aside.

“gonna make you feel better than that asshole ever did.” steve whispers.

“steve!” you scoff.

then he’s right back against you again instantly.

his mouth crashes into yours again while his hands slide under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto the kitchen counter.

you gasp softly into the kiss at the sudden movement. steve swallows the sound immediately.

one hand braces beside you against the counter while the other grips your waist firmly, pulling you right to the edge until he’s standing between your knees.

“you’re so goddamn perfect, baby. been dreaming about you like this for so long.” he praises.

leaning down, steve captures one rosy peak between his lips, suckling hard. his other hand trails lower, teasing along the waistband of your panties.

with a swift tug, steve removes your last scrap of clothing, your panties, baring you completely to his hungry gaze.

he sits you up easily on the cool marble countertop, nudging your legs apart to stand between them. his palms skim up your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake, before coming to rest on your hips.

“look at you,” steve rasped, voice thick with lust. “so fucking pretty f’me. can't believe this is really happening.”

“steve, please.” you plead, your body almost shaking in need.

he lays a large hand on your stomach, kinda laying you down a bit on your elbows to see your body better, spreading open for him.

“been thinking about this, about me, haven't you?” steve asks bluntly between open-mouthed kisses on your torso.

“mhm.” you nod pathetically.

“mhm?” steve slightly mocks you, pouting and eyebrows frowning as he hums.

steve’s hand leaves your hips to softly circle your swollen clit with the pad of his thumb, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp and your back arch.

he watches, transfixed, as your back arches off the counter, pressing your breasts towards him. the sight of you, lost in pleasure, it's probably the most erotic thing steve’s ever seen.

“let me hear ya’.” steve encourages huskily, increasing the pressure of his thumb on you. “wanna know how i make you feel.”

“so g-good, steve.” your voice fails as a soft gasp interrupts you, you grab onto his free big forearm.

steve leans in to capture your lips in a filthy kiss, all tongues and teeth and desperation.

he can feel how close you are, your walls closing around nothing but steve pulls back just as you teeter on the brink, denying you that release.

a wicked grin spreads across his face at your whimper of frustration.

“steve! why’d you stop?!” you whine.

steve just leaves that stupid hot grin on his face and lowers it between your legs. his warm and soft respiration hitting your sensitive wet folds.

slowly and torturously, he drags the flat of his tongue through your dripping slit, from entrance to clit. steve seals his lips around your clit and sucks gently.

“ah- fuc- more to the left. ughnhn- oh my god, there!” you guide steve, messy moans interrupting you constantly.

the feeling of your thighs clamping around steve’s head, holding him in place, only spurs him on. steve groans into your core, the vibrations intensifying the pleasure.

he maintains the slow yet effective soft licks on your clit, alternating between kitten licks and gentle sucks.

“you’re fucking soaked.” steve groans, words vibrating against your flesh.

your legs tremble around his head, your breath coming in increasingly shallow pants, your fingers threading through steve’s hair… you’re really close.

“almost- almost there.” you manage to say, holding on to steve’s hair for dear life.

steve’s tongue locks on your clit with singular focus, sealing his lips around the sensitive nub and sucking hard, pushing you to your limit.

“that’s it, baby. let go f’me.” he groans against your flesh, interrupting the amount of pleasure you were receiving from his tongue.

“don’t stop, steve.” you push his head against your wet folds.

steve smiles at your words and increases the suction on your clit again, feeling your body tensing, your muscles pulling. your thighs clamp tighter around his head, holding him in place as your orgasm crashes over agressively.

“oh my god, f-fuckck. fuck, steveeee.” your moans come out slurred and loud.

steve hums against your core. “mm baby.” his lips moving on your clit as he lazily speaks.

he works you through the aftershocks, his touches gentling as he feels your body relax under his touch. finally, he places one last kiss on your pussy, before pulling away to admire his work.

you, flushed and panting, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. steve’s hands settle on your hips, thumbs rubbing small circles on your hipbones as he gazes at you with undisguised hunger.

“god, you're beautiful like this.” he murmurs against your lips, voice rough. “coming undone for me...”

“need more of you, steve.” you say, still panting, thighs clenching at the thought of his cock inside you. “please.”

“yeah?” steve’s voice comes out husky and rough.

you can feel his hardness grinding on your leg.

“c’mere.” he whispers, grabbing the back of your legs to get you off the counter gently. “turn around f’me.”

you quickly spin around, bending over the cold marble countertop. steve presses his chest to your back and leans down to nip at your earlobe.

“how’d i get so lucky with you? god.” steve’s voice causing you goosebumps all over your body. “gonna take you from behind right here, baby. that’ okay?”

“mhm. yes, steve. please.” you desperately agree.

he carefully kicks your legs apart and grinds his clothed erection against your bare bottom, letting you feel how hard he is for you. one hand slides around to rub tight circles on your clit while the other grips your hip possessively.

your soft desperate moans whenever he touches you are music to steve’s ears.

with a smirk, steve hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slowly peels them down his hips. as more of his dick comes into view, steve hears your breath hitch.

your head gently turns to look behind you and watch him get undressed.

finally, steve steps out of the fabric pooled around his ankles, his big cock springing free, already leaking at the tip. he strokes the length from base to crown a few times without taking his eyes off of you.

“fuck…” you talk out loud without realizing, looking at his cock completely dumbfounded by his size.

you lock eyes with steve and then with his dick once more. he lets you drink in the sight. the thick, veiny shaft, the swollen purple head already glistening with precum, the heavy sack beneath.

at your continued silence, he raises an eyebrow. “i’ll go slow, baby.”

steve steps even closer, kissing your neck, the thick length of his erection sliding along the cleft of your ass, leaving a trail of precum in its wake.

then, he presses the bulbous head of his dick against your entrance. you can’t help but feel guilty for comparing his size to tyler’s. the difference is stark, almost intimidating.

steve takes a deep breath, reining in his overwhelming urge to simply slam into you.

with a low, rumbling groan, he positions himself at your entrance once more. gripping your hips for leverage, steve begins to push forward, breaching your slick folds with agonizing slowness. the flared head of his cock parts your labia, sinking into your tight heat inch by excruciating inch.

“fuuuuck, baby.” he hisses through clenched teeth. “so goddamn tight. relax for me, sweetheart. breathe and let me in.”

“steve steve steve, fuck!” you moan and grab at his hand on your hips for stability as steve continues his torturously slow advance, pausing frequently to allow your body time to adjust.

with each tiny increment, he can feel you stretching around his cock, accommodating to his size. steve’s fingers dig more into the flesh of your hips, anchoring himself as he struggles for control.

finally, after what feels like an eternity, steve’s heavy balls nestle against your clit. he stays still, savoring the sensation of being fully sheathed inside your cunt.

“holy shit, you feel fucking amazing, babe.” steve groans, voice strained with the effort of holding back. “made for my cock.”

slowly, he starts to move, withdrawing until just the tip remains inside you before pushing back in. steve sets a deep, rolling rhythm, each thrust hitting you deep.

“‘s too much, steve…” you gasp at the feeling.

“i know… i know, baby. take it.” he whispers through clenched teeth again.

the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin fills the kitchen, punctuated by mingled moans.

steve leans over you, covering your smaller frame with his larger one. one hand snakes up to wrap loosely around your throat, applying the barest hint of pressure as the other seeks out your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub.

“fuuuuuuuck, steve- oh my god, m’ steve!” you moan, your voice kinda strained as steve grabs your throat tighter.

steve’s hips snap forward with increasing force, the wet squelch of your pussy, the slap of flesh on flesh echoing through the room.

he looks down to your ass hitting his hips with every thrust only to see a white ring around his cock, both of your juices mixing together. that almost sends him to the edge, a feral grin spreads across steve’s face at the sight.

“fuck, look at that.” he rasps. “you’re dripping on me, sweetheart.”

you can’t look but you know exactly what steve is referring to.

“feels so good, steve.” you pant.

“yeah?” steve groans, giving your ass a sharp slap. “my perfect little cockdrunk girl.”

his grip on your hip loosens slightly, becoming more caressing than bruising. steve’s fingers on your clit speed up, rubbing tight, fast circles.

“you're doing so well, taking me so deep.” he praises huskily.

he maintains the deep thrusts. the hand on your throat slides up to tangle in your hair, tugging your head back slightly as he leans in to nip and suck at the column of your neck.

unable to speak, you arch your back and press yourself against steve.

his hand comes down to deliver a sharp smack to your jiggling ass cheek. the stinging impact seems to spur you on, your cunt clamping down around steve like a vice.

“oooh- fuck, just like that!” he groans, hips snapping forward with renewed vigor.

“steve!” you moan out his name.

the sound of his name falling from your lips in ecstasy sends a bolt of pure lust straight to steve’s cock.

“i’m gonna- oh fuck, steve!” you gasp as steve thrusts.

“gonna what, baby? talk to me. fuuuuuck.”

feeling your body tensing, hearing the breathy warning in your voice, steve knows you’re so so so close. with a final burst of energy, he redoubles his efforts, hips jackhammering into you at a perfect pace.

“cumming, steve. god, you’re cock feels so good.” you let every word come out of you with each thrust of his hips.

the coil of tension in steve’s gut winds tighter and tighter, his thrusts growing erratic. he can feel your walls fluttering around his cock.

“let go, cum for me, baby.”

“oooh fuck! steve!” you throw your head back and scream in pleasure as your orgasm crashes over you, your body convulsing.

your inner muscles clamp down on steve’s throbbing dick, rippling and squeezing as wave after wave of intense pleasure courses through.

the feeling of your pussy squeezing him is too much to bear. with a moan of your name, steve buries himself to the hilt inside you, thick cock pulsing as he explodes inside you.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” steve groans, hands squeezing your ass.

jet after jet of hot, thick cum paints your inner walls, flooding your insides with steve. he grinds against you, working his release deeper.

steve collapses forward, blanketing your form with his larger one as he rides out the aftershocks, his softening cock still twitching weakly inside your pussy.

“fuck…” you whisper, breath already slowing down.

now, the refrigerator hums, outside, a car passes down the street.

steve’s hand moves to your waist absentmindedly, thumb brushing back and forth like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. honestly, he probably doesn’t, he’s always touching you. the difference is that now you’re both painfully aware of it.

you swallow. “say something.”

that finally gets a real smile out of him.

“can’t really talk right now to be honest.” he laughs. “still… still coming back from what we just did.”

you smile at that, putting your back against his chest, kissing his jawline.

for a second neither of you says anything.

then steve exhales softly. “we’ll figure it out.”

you look at him. “you don’t even know what ‘it’ is.”

“doesn’t matter.”

the answer comes so fast it almost makes you laugh. “steve-”

“i’m serious.” his eyes don’t leave yours. “we’ll figure it out.”

and maybe it’s ridiculous.

maybe the entire night is ridiculous.

but standing there with him looking at you like that, so certain.

for the first time since tyler knocked on that door…

you almost believe it too.

note: omggggg this took me so LONG to write but i hope it was worth it 😭😭 tagging everyone who asked to be tagged !!

He tells you to wait in the front seat as he climbs out and circles the hood of the car, opening the passenger side door and holding out a hand to help you out of the car, then walking with you five steps to the back door, opening it as well, and guiding you inside. Once you’re settled, he joins you, and then the final part of the evening begins.

Steve is a good kisser—he’s maybe the best kisser you’ve ever kissed, and while you’re not exactly going around kissing people all the time, you still know a good kiss from a bad kiss. And this is actually a great kiss.

His lips on yours are soft, plush, his hands on your waist hold you close and when you part for breath, you sigh his name and try to meet him in the middle again.

But he ducks you—he lowers his mouth to your neck instead, one hand moving from your waist up beneath your shirt, not moving anywhere but your side, rubbing his thumb over your skin in a short line, back and forth, as he leaves a fluttering trail of kisses over your throat.

“Steve,” you sigh, and you feel his lips quirk into a smile against your neck as he closes his lips on the crook of your neck where it meets your shoulder, and sucks. You gasp, then whimper, hands scrabbling at his back as he leans into you, pulling away to let his tongue trail over the sensitive spot he just sucked at, before closing his lips around it again and really trying to ensure he marks you there.

You slide your hands from his back to his front, clutching his shoulders as he pulls away, nosing at your neck before lifting his head, his nose brushing the underside of your jaw as he faces you properly again.

“That ok?” he asks, a little late, and moves his free hand to your shoulder, thumb brushing the lovebite he gave you before cupping your jaw from beneath.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, and then his mouth is back on yours, kissing you again, licking into you, and you part for him in all ways, opening up to let him in, your legs moving to either side of him.

He pushes into you, laying you down on the back seat of his car, your legs tangling together as you try to make room for yourselves there, and he kisses your upper lip, delving into your mouth deeply as you spread your legs, letting him settle atop you.

“You’re so—soft,” Steve mutters as he lets his lips trail down your neck again, bypassing the wet spot where he just left one hickey, and latching onto you a bit lower down on your chest, leaving the beginnings of another just above the collar of your blouse.

You let the fingers of one hand slide over his back, playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck, while the other cards through his hair properly. His lips are still at your chest, sucking a second bruise to your skin as you roll your hips up into his, and he grinds down against you.

“Do you—” he asks, gasping a little, the words leaving his mouth as soon as he pulls off of you. “Do you want to—?”

“Do you have anything?” you reply, and he nods, hands fumbling as he looks for purchase on the seat beneath you, his lips sucking one final time against your chest for good measure, and then he’s up and off you and rummaging around in the glove box in the front seat, returning his attention to you with a foil wrapper pinched between two fingers.

“Yeah?” he asks, and you nod, your hand tracing over the hickey he just left on your chest.

Steve watches you, the way you touch it reverently, and then he’s back on you, lips taking yours in a sweltering kiss. It lasts—he lingers—and then the two of you are undressing yourselves in a mad dash to get naked and get him back on top of you. He finishes first, stowing the corner of the condom wrapper between his lips for a moment, as he pulls you up with both hands and then wraps his arms around you, unclasping your bra with practiced movements, and then he lets the condom fall to your lap as he lays you back down, closing his lips around one of your nipples, sucking enough that you arch your back up, wondering if he’s trying to leave a hickey there too. But no—he pulls off, letting the pebbled skin slip from his lips as he kneels above you, back bowed, searching for the condom. His cock was half-hard, pressing against your thigh, and he rolls the rubber on and pinches the tip before he hooks his hand beneath your leg, hoisting it up over his hip, and then splays his hand out on your front.

“You—good?” he asks, and it was so quick and so little lead up that you worry for a moment about whether it will be any fucking good at all, but you want it and you want him, so you reply to the affirmative.

“Yes,” you answer, and Steve smiles down at you, leaning over you, reaching down to cup your face and rub the apple of your cheek with his thumb before he bends his back even further to look down your body as he lines himself up with you, your folds wet and ready and waiting for him. He presses the head against you, and just as you expect him to push in, he looks up at you instead, his eyes searching your face, looking for you, through you, into you, and then his lips are on your again and he’s kissing you as he eases his cock inside.

You kiss him back languidly, lips fitting to his as he lazily licks your tongue, teasing it just enough that you move it back against his, tongues sliding together as he deepens the kiss, and deepens the angle at which he’s entering you. He’s thick but you’re open so wide already—you take him gradually, as he pushes in he pulls back out, back in, then out, over and over until his hips are flush with yours and you feel him filling every single inch of you.

Steve turns his head just a little, breaking the kiss, and speaks.

“Wanna hear you,” he says, not meeting your eyes, like he’s too shy to ask for what he wants and can only do it if he’s not looking right at you. His big reputation—slightly different in reality. You think you like it. “Please let me hear you.”

“Steve,” you sigh, squeezing down on him before he even starts moving, and when he does, you do exactly as he asked. He fucks you slow, hard, deep, and you’re not holding back, loosing whimpers and whines and mewls, his name and sighs, little grunts and squeaks as he reaches spots inside of you that you didn’t know could be reached, so far within that they’re untouched and unknown. “Oh my g-god, Steve.”

“Yeah, keep—going, like that,” he beseeches you, so you don’t falter, don’t stop. You let him hear just how much you like everything he’s doing to you, and then his fingers brush over your clit and you’re gone.

“Nn, Steve, that’s—” you say, breaking off as he moves his fingers over you faster. “Wait, wait, I’m—too close, I—not yet, not yet, please—”

You feel more than hear him huff a laugh against your neck as he slows his fingers, and then his mouth is back on it, the tender spot beneath your ear, right by your jaw; he’s sucking there too, marking you again, you can tell, and you like it. Tomorrow everyone will know exactly what you got up to and that thrills you, just thinking of it.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve mutters against your neck. “Tight—fuck, ok, you’re—”

“You feel so good,” you half-sob, his cock drilling into you, his fingers coaxing you closer but by inches now, not miles like before. “Don’t wanna—stop.”

Steve’s teeth close onto your collarbone, just a slight pinch, a slight shock, and then his lips are back against yours.

“Then we won’t,” he says.  You moan into his mouth as he kisses you, then keeps talking, his fingers moving faster again, the slick, wet sounds of his cock moving into you barely audible between his words. “We’ll stay back here as long as you want.” You nod, eyes locked onto his. “Wanna keep going?”

“Yes, yes, yes—” you babble as you come on his cock, on his hand, and his hips snap into yours as your walls flutter around him, and you can tell by the way that he just pulses his hips against yours, leaves them mostly still, that he’s letting your body milk his orgasm from him too—and barely a moment passes before he melts atop you, body shuddering as his hips kick once against yours, trying to bury himself inside of you even deeper.

He doesn’t pull out right away, instead nosing at your jaw, lips attached to your neck again.

Curling your fingers through his hair, you tip his head back so he can look at you properly. “How long do you need?” you ask.