#steve x reader

It has been two weeks since that night. 

Since then, Steve has called your house multiple times a day to try to talk to you and make up for the first three days. You answered at first, listening to him apologize for not being there enough, for missing out on dates and calls, for missing your anniversary dinner, and promising to do better. But every time it would end in the same way: “Are you finally willing to tell me the truth?” you’d whisper. He’d sigh sadly. “You know, I can’t do that, doll. It's too dangerous,” and you’d hear the genuine sadness in his voice, as if not telling you was killing him, too. You’d come close to relenting so many times because hearing Steve Harrington sound sad was more than your mind, body, and heart could handle. The ache that already gripped your chest would tighten its hold at his tone, squeezing until it was difficult to keep your voice steady. But then the stubbornness would kick in, the reminder that you were hurting, too, and you had to think about yourself here first because you refused to be an afterthought in your relationship. So you’d say calmly, “Then this conversation is over,” and slam the receiver down before the tears came. 

After you stopped taking his calls altogether, Steve resorted to climbing up to your window, hoping you’d be more willing to talk if you saw that being away from you was tearing him apart. You’d hear the familiar three taps on your window near midnight, and your eyes would snap open in the darkness; you’d stop breathing for a minute, waiting, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. They’d come again, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to let him in, no matter how much it killed you knowing he was outside, probably with a disappointed, heartbroken expression because his grapevine wasn’t long enough to cover the distance between you two. He lied to you, remember? He kept things from you. He hurt you. He doesn’t deserve to be let in; you’d tell yourself to stop yourself from giving in.

This went on for the first week. 

While you were sad over the breakup, a bigger part of you was just angry. Whatever this secret was had cost you the best thing in your life. You deserved to know what it was. So for that first week, you focused all your energy on getting answers, obsessed over it, listening to Joyce’s calls sneakily, trying to figure out what she was talking about. When that failed to get you any answers, you resorted to cornering people. 

Steve had said your brothers and your mom were in on it, so you resorted to questioning them. Your first target: Will. 

You planned a movie night with him, as you two used to do when he was younger, before he went missing. Beetlejuice was both of your all-time favourite movie, and you used to watch it at least twice a month when he was younger. So, you asked him to watch it with you one night. He was super excited and had enthusiastically accepted your offer. 

You made popcorn for the both of you, bought tons of candy: Twizzlers, Three Musketeers bars, chocolate-covered almonds, gummy bears, basically all the confectionery sold at Melvald’s. Also pizza in case you weren’t adequately nauseated by the end of the night. You two were going to go to bed feeling sick to your stomachs, for sure. You smiled at the thought. It would be just like the old days. 

Will came in excitedly, plopped down on the couch, already snacking from the bowl of popcorn. You looked at him and realised that in the three years since the two of you had done this, Will hadn’t changed at all. Personality-wise, obviously. Physically, he looked like a different person. Older than a 15-year-old should be, you thought to yourself, as if he had faced some unimaginable trauma in his short life that had aged him at an accelerated pace. 

Once again, you wondered what exactly had happened when Will went missing. What had happened that your baby brother looked and acted more mature than a boy his age should, that your mother had stopped being a mother to you, focusing almost all of her energy on Will and the remaining on Jonathan? However, he was still quiet and docile as ever, never wanting to be a bother, always polite and mannerly, so unlike the group of heathens he hung out with. You had always loved that about him.  

You settled next to him with a smile, offering him the bowl of popcorn. The movie started in the background, but you weren’t really paying attention to it. Your mind was too preoccupied with ways to question him without having him run away. 

You cleared your throat. “Steve and I broke up,” you started quietly.

He turned to look at you, an empathetic sadness on his face. He mumbled, looking down at his lap with his lips pressed together. “I’m sorry about that. It must suck.”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I really liked him.” You looked off distractedly, eyes slightly misting over as you let the pain of the breakup fully wash over you for the first time that week. 

“...why did you break up?” He turned to look at you. 

You shook your head, swallowing before answering. “Because he was keeping things from me. Things that he said I couldn’t know about because they’re dangerous and life-threatening,” you looked at his face for any reaction to that. 

“Oh,” was all he muttered. 

So you pushed further. “And he said that you and Jonathan and Mom are somehow part of it?”

Will sucked in a sharp breath. “I-I don't know why he would say that,” he turned his face away, eyes trained on the TV. 

“So it's not true?” you questioned, eyebrows raised in curiosity. You could see him getting more and more nervous, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he scratched at his thumb absently in his lap. You were losing him. When he didn’t respond for a while, you called softly. “Will?” 

He looked scared then, as if he had said something he shouldn’t have, calculating every word in his head before he uttered another. “I-I have to go,” he mumbled, getting up frantically from the couch before you could stop him and running out of the house. 

You watched as the front door slammed shut, wanting to call out to him, to ask what had happened, but knew it was useless. He wasn’t going to tell you. He wasn’t allowed to tell you, you realized. You huffed in irritation. If Will wouldn’t give you any answers, your next best bet was Jonathan. 

He was basically never at home, always either out with Nancy or clicking photos to build his portfolio. It was difficult to catch him, so when the opportunity presented itself, you didn’t waste time snatching it up. He was by the front door, tying his shoes, his usual cross-body camera bag hanging by his side as he was kneeling down.

“Where are you going?” you asked detachedly, approaching him from behind.

He yelped in surprise, turning to look at you with wide eyes. “Jesus, n/n,” he muttered before turning back. You repeated your question when he didn’t respond. “Just going to see Nance,” he responded nonchalantly without looking at you. 

“Oh,” you hummed, walking closer slowly. “You two up to something you shouldn’t be?”

He had turned towards you then with a perplexed expression. “What?” 

You shrugged. “You’ve been going to see her an awful lot lately.”

Jonathan stood up, adjusting his bag, and turned to face you. “Well, yeah, she’s my girlfriend.” 

You nodded. “I know. Just making sure you two haven’t…I don’t know, gotten yourselves mixed up in something dangerous,” you tried to sound cool, but you watched his face closely for any reactions, any hint that he gets what you’re talking about.

He sighed. “Even if we did, it's none of your concern,” he rolled his eyes and walked out.

You stood there for a second, staring at the door that had just slammed shut. That hurt, honestly. Having him just dismiss you like that. But you couldn’t say you didn’t see that coming. It had been your whole family’s attitude for a while now. You dragged your hands down your face, sighing tiredly. You were nowhere close to getting answers, and the fight was physically leaving you now. One last try, you decided, before you allowed yourself to fall apart. Another person who could maybe give you answers now was Robin. 

You and Robin had been best friends since middle school, and now, as a bonus, she was working with Steve at Family Video. You knew they were close. Hell, Robin was how you and Steve met when they worked together at Scoops Ahoy. Surely she’d be able to tell you if he had been acting suspiciously there too, if there were sketchy people who were coming to see him, anything that would hint at whatever the mess was that your family and Steve had gotten themselves into. 

On Friday, you dialed Robin’s home phone number. Her shift didn’t start until 12 PM, if you remembered correctly, so she should be available to speak. It was only 10 AM right now. After a few rings, she picked up. 

“Hello?” 

“Robin!” You grinned for the first time in ages. 

“Y/n! I haven’t heard from you in so long! How are you doing? I heard about the breakup; I’m so sorry. Steve is a dingus! I told him not to mess it up with you; otherwise, I’d have him by the balls,” she rambled. 

You only smiled harder the more she talked. You loved her capacity to ramble, but you especially appreciated it today. After feeling so alone and lonely for the past few days, it was a major relief to hear a voice that wasn’t shunning you. Moreover, Robin had always had that effect. Her hyperactivity seemed like a ray of sunshine in your darkest hours. After all, you called her your best friend for a reason. 

“Yeah,” you chuckled softly. “He is an idiot.” 

“Totally, babe! Don’t you blame yourself for a second!” 

You smiled to yourself. “Hey, listen, can I ask you something?” 

“Yeah, go ahead.” 

You paused for a second, considering how best to phrase it. “H-has Steve been acting suspicious lately?” 

“What do you mean?” she asked confusedly. 

“I mean-” you shrugged. “I don’t know, like are there any sketchy people coming in to see him or he’s been acting shady or keeping things from you?” 

Robin stayed silent for a moment as if mulling it over. “No, nothing of the sort. Why?” 

You sighed, leaning against the wall while you twirled the wire anxiously between your fingers. “Well, he said there were just some things he couldn’t tell me because they were dangerous and life-threatening and he wanted to keep me safe. I said that it wasn’t his decision to make and then he said he promised my mom something. I asked him what he meant by that, but he wouldn’t tell me.” 

“...oh.” 

Your brows furrowed, dread pooling in your chest. That wasn’t how the normal Robin would respond. She’d be cussing him out normally, telling him he was an idiot and didn’t know his place if he was colluding with your mom. 

Your eyes narrowed at her tone. “Robin?” you asked suspiciously. 

“Yes?” she answered too quickly, sounding nervous. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know what he was talking about, would you?” 

She sputtered. “What? No, of course not. It's probably some popular people stuff.”

“Robin, don’t lie to me,” your voice took a warning tone. “If you know something, as my best friend, you’re obligated to tell me.”

“Uh, have to get to work; talk to you later!” she said quickly and ended the call. 

“ROBIN!” you shouted once, but the line was already dead. 

You slammed the receiver down in pure anger. Your best friend, the one person who was supposed to be on your side, was also hiding things from you. Was there anyone left on your side anymore? You don’t know if the cracking sound had come from how hard you had slammed the phone down or from your chest, because your heart definitely felt like it was breaking all over again. 

A fresh wave of helplessness washed over you as you realised you truly had no one left whom you could trust to tell you the truth. It was all making you feel crazy. You knew you weren’t chasing after nothing given all their sketchy, avoidant behaviour, but it was driving you mad why they wouldn’t just tell you. Did they not trust you to keep it quiet? Were you too stupid to be involved in it?

You sighed tiredly. Maybe it was all bullshit anyway. Why were you trying so hard to figure out whatever this secret was? If they all wanted to hide from you, fine. They could all fuck off. 

All you wanted to do was to crawl into bed and wallow in self-pity. There was nobody left to ask. You weren’t in favour of asking your mother. The woman who had successfully avoided parenting for the past three years would surely avoid a conversation effortlessly. It was evident from the conversation with Will that they were clearly told not to spill anything to you, so why bother trying? 

A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over you and you stumbled a little, catching yourself on the wall at the last second. Your head was spinning. How long had it been since you’d eaten? Did it matter? You decided to just head into your room and climb under the covers. Trivial matters like eating could wait until after you took a nap or something. 

You fell asleep in a blink, and the next morning, you were too tired to get out of bed. In the afternoon, you debated getting up to eat, but the kitchen was too far away. By dinner time, the growling in your stomach had disappeared on its own, so there was no point in getting out of bed.

You had tried to be okay after the breakup, pretending everything was fine, and focusing all of your energy on figuring out this secret. But it was like your body sensed something was amiss. So even when you forced your mind to focus elsewhere, your body had protested by quashing your appetite, being constantly fidgety, subconsciously reaching out to the empty space next to you on the bed, and your heart skipping a beat every time the phone rang or there was a knock on the door, hoping for Steve to walk through. To tell you that it was alright, that you weren't crazy and there was nothing wrong with you.

But that wasn't happening, obviously.

Eventually, you gave up forcing yourself to be okay. You’d have to deal with this breakup the old-fashioned way: locking yourself in your room, playing sad music, and crying till you physically couldn’t produce more tears. 

At least there was ice cream in the process somewhere. 

You noticed Joyce acting differently towards you during that second week. She seemed more caring than usual, greeting you with a good morning if you came out of your room, informing you before leaving for work. She hadn’t shown such consideration in at least three years. But you were heartbroken and hurting, so the care wasn’t unwelcome. Once, you had even broken down in front of her, crying about how much you loved Steve and missed him. “Why don’t you get back together with him?” she had asked, and you had cried in response, “Because he lied to me. He keeps lying to me and hiding things from me.” She had simply responded with, “It’s probably for the best,” and you had known then that she knew why you two separated. 

Of course she did. She and Steve were, after all, in this bullshit secret society together. Her care was not for you. It was for Steve.

It was confirmed when she said, “You made a mistake breaking up with him. He’s a good kid,” the next day, to which you had rolled your eyes while walking away and grumbled a quiet, “Everyone but me is a good kid to you,” under your breath. It all suddenly made sense to you: why she had been saying good morning and interacting more than normal. She was baiting you into a conversation with her to steer it towards Steve, so she could somehow get you to get back together with him. You appreciated the sentiment. You only wished it had come from love for you, not your ex-boyfriend. 

The entire week went by with you holed up in your room, barely eating, barely sleeping, abundantly crying, definitely wallowing. You decided something had to change after a week of that. Nobody else could be held responsible for your happiness; you’d simply have to do it yourself.

Friday night, the house was empty once again. Everyone was out, and you hadn’t bothered asking them where they were going. Ever since your argument with Steve, none of them could meet your eyes, always talking to you with their gazes elsewhere and giving vague, halfhearted responses to your inquiries. They all obviously saw how much you were hurting, why you two had broken up, and still none of them had the guts to just spill it. You didn’t have enough fight left in you to pressure any of them for answers anymore. If they wanted to exclude you, so be it. They could fuck off. Steve could fuck off. Robin could fuck off. 

You didn’t give two shits where they were going or if they were coming back. 

You took this opportunity to have a movie night for yourself. You turned off all the lights in the house except for the one in the kitchen, then settled on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. You played Beetlejuice since it was still queued up from the night you questioned Will. However, you were too distracted to actually pay attention to the movie. Having it on in the background did a decent job of keeping you from sinking too far deep into the pain, though. You couldn’t help but keep recalling the conversation from that night, the weeks leading up to it, wondering what exactly your brothers, mom, Steve, and Nancy had in common, what quality they all had that you seemingly lacked that kept you out of the loop. 

You brought your knees to your chest as you recounted everything while snacking from the bowl sitting next to you. Your eyes, which were trained on the TV, snapped up when you noticed the kitchen light flickering to your right, plunging the living room into and out of darkness. You groaned to yourself. The bulb was probably about to go out. You sighed, turning your attention back to the movie. 

But the light kept flickering, a faint, constant buzzing coming from the kitchen. Finally, it got on your nerves. 

You got up from the sofa and went to the kitchen to turn the light off, carrying the popcorn bowl with you absentmindedly. Just then, the front door burst open, blasted off its hinges. You turned with wide eyes just in time to see the giant, grey, slimy creature walking towards you. It had no eyes and freakishly long limbs. Its mouth opened up like a disturbing flower showing rows upon rows of teeth covering every single spot in the disturbing, gaping chasm. You stood rooted in the spot, frozen in fear as you struggled to process the sight before you. It slowly stalked towards you and you trembled in fear, not breathing. It wasn’t until the popcorn bowl slipped from your grip and smashed to the ground tha you broke out of your stupor. It let out the most animalistic sound you had ever heard. You screamed at the top of your lungs when it started charging towards you. You sprinted in the opposite direction, towards your room, heart beating out of your chest, tearing up from the fear and adrenaline coursing through you. 

I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, was all that played in your head as you ran into your room and slammed the door shut, locking it. You frantically looked around the room for anything that could be used as a weapon and landed on the mirror propped against the wall. You pushed the mirror to the floor and watched it get smashed to bits, then picked up one of the big shards, gripping it so tight it was cutting into your hand. You raised it over your head, standing a bit back from the door, bracing for that thing to barge in. 

Your heart pounded in your chest, trying to free itself somehow from the prison of your chest and escape the fate that awaited it. That was all you could hear. It was ironic, you realised, that your death would come to collect you while you were alone, nobody around to care or help or try to save you. For the longest time, you had imagined it would be that way. Made peace with it. And then Steve had happened, and you had thought maybe not. Maybe there’d be someone to hold your hand, after all. 

You were wrong. 

You gasped as something heavy threw itself against your door, over and over. It was right outside your door. You readied your stance and took a deep breath. You refused to go down without a fight. The door to your room blasted open, splinters flying everywhere, and there the creature stood. 

“Stay back,” you shouted, backing up slowly. It roared before charging towards you. You ran towards it, stabbing it with the shard over and over and over with all the energy and strength your body could muster, screaming as you did. Its blood squirted all over you the more you stabbed it, splashing all over your clothes and your face. The creature stumbled as you kept barraging it with the shard. You didn’t notice when your own blood had started to drip down your arm from how hard you were gripping it, until you winced from how deeply it cut into your palm. 

The creature roared in pain before it raised one of its hands. Sharp claws dug into your side, and you gasped as pain, hot and blinding, shot through your side. Its other arm raised, and its claws found your neck, slashing across it. You choked as the breath was snatched from your throat, hands automatically flying up to your neck. You pulled your hand back to see it dripping with blood. The shard slipped from your grip, and you stumbled to the ground. The room was spinning violently, the ground was pulled from under your feet, and there was a loud ringing in your ears. Black dots started dancing in your vision, and you started hallucinating. 

You started hallucinating Steve. He was there. He looked ridiculously good. He also looked angry, and he was swinging at the creature with what looked like a baseball bat with nails hammered into it. You heard the creature's ugly shrieks of pain, and you smiled to yourself quietly. Goodbye, Stevie, you thought to yourself.

And then everything went black. 

You woke up slowly, a white ceiling slowly coming into your view as you roused. The first thing you noticed was that there was pain…everywhere. You couldn’t pin it down to one place. Next thing you noticed was that there was something on your face. A something clear covering your nose and mouth. There was a beeping to your left. A constant, steady, annoying, and persistent sound that was making your pounding headache worse. You were in a hospital, you realised. You had lived somehow. Had that not been a hallucination? You thought to yourself. Was Steve really there? And that's when you noticed that there was something in your hand. You squeezed it once, trying to determine what it was. 

A hand. Warm and big and calloused and familiar. And it squeezed back. 

“Hey, baby,” you heard that familiar, soft voice from beside you. 

Steve. 

You turned your head slowly to see him, eyes squinting to adjust to the bright lights of the room. He was leaning forward in a small, wooden chair, hair looking annoyingly good still. His face, however, looked exhausted. There were bags under his eyes, cuts on his eyebrow, lip, and cheek, and he looked pale like he hadn’t slept or eaten properly in days. 

“S-” you tried to say but started coughing immediately. Your throat was too dry.

“Easy there,” he whispered soothingly, thumb brushing your knuckles. “Water?”

When you nodded, Steve immediately stood up. He gently slid the oxygen mask off your face, then put his hand under your head to help you drink as he held the glass to your lips while you slowly drank from it. Afterwards, you squeezed his hand in gratitude.

You cleared your throat and tried again. “What happened?” you croaked.

“You passed out,” he whispered, stroking your hair back from your forehead. His hand rested on your head, his thumb gently stroking back and forth on your forehead. It helped more than you’d like to admit because, as much as it sucked, you were scared. Some scary, too-many-toothed, pitcher plant looking creature had attacked you, and the last thing you remembered was being slashed on your abdomen and neck, and now you were waking up in a hospital hooked to wires. 

You looked at his face for a second, tears welling in your eyes as you recalled the fear from seeing that thing. “What was that?” you whispered, voice cracking. “W-why did it come after me?” the tears were threatening to spill over. The beeping from the heart monitor quickened its pace as you recalled the horrifying event. 

“Hey, hey, it's okay, you’re safe now,” he murmured reassuringly. “I’ve got you. It can’t hurt you anymore. I killed it,” he assured you. He kept stroking your hair and murmuring soft assurances to you until your heart rate went back to normal. 

You sniffled quietly, looking to him expectantly. Steve sighed, looking away for a second as if debating whether to tell you or not. In the end, he relented. “It's called a demogorgon.”

You furrowed your brows. “Like the thing from Dungeons & Dragons?” 

Steve chuckled humourlessly. “Exactly like that.” 

“But how’s that possible? It's a game,” you protested weakly. 

Steve moved his hand from your forehead to your shoulder, rubbing soothingly. “Look, there’s a lot you don’t know. We thought not telling you would keep you safe, but you ended up getting hurt anyway. So, I promise you, once you get out of here, I’m going to tell you everything and answer all of your questions. But for now, just focus on getting better, okay?” 

“Why did it come after me?” you asked. 

Steve shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “We don’t know.” He paused for a minute, simply taking you in. “You were so brave though, fighting it off with just a shard of glass like that.” 

He caressed your cheek lovingly, and you smiled imperceptibly. “Thanks,” you whispered. 

You wanted to ask more questions, but you were too tired, your head spinning and pounding too much at the moment to voice all your queries. One stayed, however. 

“I-is my mom here?” you asked quietly. 

Steve nodded. “They went to the cafeteria to get some food. We’ve all been here a while.” 

“How long?” you asked. 

Steve inhaled deeply. “You’ve been out for about 4 days,” he responded quietly. 

Your head started spinning even more. Four whole days? You looked at Steve again, taking in his haggard appearance, and asked, “Have you been here this entire time?” 

“Of course,” Steve looked at you as if you were crazy for even asking the question. “Where else would I be?” 

“We broke up,” you whispered as if that explained it. 

Steve swallowed, looking away. “Doesn’t mean I stopped loving you.”

You were discharged the next day. You could barely walk due to the immense pain in your side and neck, despite the painkillers, and the doctors had recommended you not speak a lot due to the damage to your vocal cords in the attack. If you must, though, they said you should try to only whisper to avoid risking permanent damage to your vocal cords. They said you should be able to talk properly in about a month, but until then, the less you talked, the better. 

Steve helped you into your mother's car, more bandage than skin on your body. There were bandages wrapped around the entirety of your torso, around your neck, and around your hand where the shard of glass had dug into your palm. You’d ended up getting stitches everywhere, so movement was also pretty restricted for the next little bit. Yet you weren’t going home. You were going straight to the Wheelers’ house to get the answers you wanted. Your mom had not been in favour of putting all that strain on you just today, but you had argued that after almost losing your life, you deserved to know what exactly that thing was, where it came from, and why it wanted you. And so, she had relented. 

You sat in the backseat with Will, sitting stiffly and awkwardly to avoid putting pressure on your wounds. Joyce drove, and Jonathan sat in the passenger seat quietly. The air was thick with guilt as if they were all silently blaming themselves for this incident, and a part of you wanted to blame them as well. Tell them that maybe, if they had just told you whenever this shit started that you wouldn’t have been in the house alone that night. That maybe, you could have gone with them, that you wouldn’t be Gauze-Girl right now. But you knew, deep down, that this wasn’t their fault. They were as shocked by this as you were; you could tell from their lack of sleep and fear-stricken faces when you had woken up. All three of them looked every bit as wrecked as Steve had, with the eye bags and dark circles and the pale skin. 

“Are you feeling alright, honey?” Joyce kept asking every couple of minutes. 

You only mutely nodded in response. 

Will kept glancing at you every few seconds. You could tell he felt guilty for not telling you when you had asked about it. You gave him a small, tight-lipped smile when he looked at you to let him know you weren’t mad at him. He leaned his head against your shoulder in a silent display of support, and your heart squeezed in your chest. You couldn’t remember the last time you even had a proper conversation with him, and you felt like a shitty sister for not being there for him. After all, going missing for a week had to have left some scars that maybe you could have helped with. Which you now knew was connected to this. This fucked up world where such monsters existed, and your baby brother had gone missing in such a place at 12 years old. 

You put your arm around his shoulders slowly, careful of your injuries, squeezing his arm gently. “I’m going to be fine,” you whispered to him. 

He nodded. “Yeah, you will be.” 

When you got there, Steve, who had been trailing in his beamer behind your mom's car, and Jonathan together helped you get out of the car carefully and inside the house. 

At the Wheelers’ house, everyone was there, waiting for you: Nancy and Mike, of course, all of Will’s friends, so Lucas, Dustin, and Max. Lucas’ little sister, Erica, Robin, Hopper (“God, is there anyone who isn’t in this shit?” you thought), and a girl whom you didn’t recognize. Her head was shaved, and she dressed as if still learning how clothes work. 

“Eleven,” she had introduced herself. 

You averted your gaze from everyone else's. You didn’t want to see the looks of pity they kept sending you. 

“Come sit,” Nancy said with a kind smile while gesturing to the sofa. 

Steve sat next to you, keeping your hand in his for support while everyone else settled in front of you. 

“We’re going to explain everything to you. From the beginning,” Nancy stated.

And so the next couple of hours were spent with them explaining everything. Starting with Will’s disappearance and how he technically wasn’t in Hawkins at all but an Upside Down version of it (you had looked to Will in horror, tears welling in your eyes, and he had nodded in confirmation), how Eleven was telekinetic and connected to the Upside Down (you noted how she stuck close to Mike), how there were these monsters that they’d dubbed Demogorgons who were like the soldiers of the Upside Down and the ring master was something called the Mind Flayer and they were battling his army general named Vecna at the moment, who was actually 001 and was raised in the same facility as Eleven. 

It all sounded like the most psychedelic story you’d ever heard, and you briefly considered asking if their dealer was supplying them authentic shit because what the hell were they talking about? But then the image of the creature – the Demogorgon – flashed in front of your eyes once again and you stayed quiet. You believed every word they said. And if there was any doubt left in your mind, it vanished the second Eleven made a pen hover midair with just her mind. 

Consider yourself converted to worship the Lord and Saviour of this cult: Eleven. 

“So,” Robin started. “Any questions?” 

Steve’s still held onto your hand, his thumb tenderly gliding over your knuckles. You were obviously struggling to process everything. This was a lot to take in, so you were grateful for his support, regardless of how upset you were with him for keeping all of this from you. That was a later problem, though. 

“I think I might need a lorazepam,” you mumbled, earning a quiet snort from Steve, who was the only one who could hear you. 

Joyce leaned forward. “Look, honey, I know this is a lot to take in, but please, know that just because you all of this now doesn’t mean you have to help us or be a part of fighting these monsters. I have been trying to keep you safe from all of this because it’s incredibly dangerous and I didn’t want your life to be ruined because of this.”

“Of course I want to help,” you whispered. 

Steve said it louder for you. 

“I’m just disappointed that I was kept out of it for so long. I mean, Will is my brother, too. I was scared of losing him, too. Hell, my boyfriend-” you cut yourself off. “Ex-boyfriend,” you corrected and felt Steve’s body freeze up. “Is a part of it. My best friend,” you looked at Robin, “is a part of it. My mother is a part of it; both my brothers are a part of it,” you spoke in exasperation, still keeping your voice quiet. 

Steve obediently relayed every word, eyes downcast as he felt the meaning and horror of your words wash over him. 

“How did you guys expect me to live after you all died risking your lives to save Hawkins?” you questioned, voice growing louder. “How did you expect me to continue after having quite literally no one left?” You felt yourself growing emotional, your throat closing up. You cleared your throat, collecting yourself before continuing. “I understand that this is very hard for all of you considering you’ve been doing all the fighting so far, but did none of you ever think about me? About how your deaths would be justified to me?” you sniffled. “And-and I would have to live with the knowledge that maybe I could have done something to help. At the very least I could have fucking been there when you died!”  

“I could tell you one last time that I love you, but no! You were all okay with taking that chance away from me because who cares about me, right? All the people you love are around you already.” Your voice was rising now, and Steve quieted down.

“Baby, please, keep your voice down,” your mom tried, but you ignored her.

Your hand slipped from his as you stood up on shaky legs. “Because what do you care, Mom, when the two kids you actually want would be there when you died? Because you don’t care enough to say goodbye to me.” 

She looked so utterly hurt at that, tears freely running down her cheeks as she brought her hands up to her mouth to muffle the sounds. 

You knew, to some degree, that you were sounding selfish. That you were making this about yourself, even when it wasn’t necessarily. But how could it not be when you were quite literally the only person in your group who didn’t know? 

Steve, Robin, Jonathan, and Will were crying now too, as well as you, but you wiped your tears angrily. 

“You were okay with leaving me,” you stated as your face crumpled and you started sobbing. “You left me 3 years ago. You left me all alone.” 

These words were directed at your family, and they knew. Joyce sprang up at once, wrapping her arms around you tightly. You didn’t care about your injuries as you let yourself be held by your mom in three whole years. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry,” she cried. “I was only trying to protect you,” she kept whispering while stroking your hair. 

You shook your head, burying your face in her shoulder. “You left me alone. I thought you just didn’t want to be my mother anymore. That I’d done something wrong and you decided I wasn’t your daughter anymore.” 

She kept hugging you and crying with you. The hug was soon joined by both of your brothers, who were also crying and profusely apologizing, and the three of you were so wrapped up in this that you didn’t realise when the others quietly exited the living room to give you more privacy. 

Afterwards, you three stayed in the living room and talked some more about how you have been feeling like an afterthought to your family, how you weren’t their sister anymore, just a roommate, and they apologized, explained themselves, and promised to do better. After some more conversations about the Upside Down and clarifications, the three of you had headed home. 

It seemed that in the time you had been passed out in the hospital, someone had come home and cleaned up the mess in your room. There were no signs of any struggle here, no broken mirror shards on the floor, no blood. Only the strong scent of bleach and the space left on your wall to remind you of the worst experience of your life. You were beyond happy to lie down in your bed after a long day of craziness and emotional taxing. 

You didn’t realise when you fell asleep, but you woke up a few hours later. It was completely dark outside now, the house silent, meaning everyone had gone to bed. You got out of the room, heading to the kitchen to grab some water. Your steps were wobbly, and you had to keep your uninjured hand on the wall so you wouldn’t fall. Afterwards, you came back to your room and just sat on the bed, breathing deeply to abate the pain. 

The familiar three taps on the window came again. You knew who it was, of course, and this time, opening the window didn’t feel like such a difficult decision. Knowing everything you did now, you understood, on Steve’s part, why he had chosen to keep all the information from you. You got up from the bed, movements incredibly slow. 

Steve climbed inside your room, not as tightly wound as the last time he climbed through your window, but way more hesitant to touch you. Whether that was because of your wounds or earlier today, you didn’t know.

“Ex-boyfriend,” you had called him earlier today, and it had hurt enough to nearly bring him to tears. 

“Hi, doll,” he whispered. “Just-uh, just wanted to see how you were doing.” He kept his hands in fists by his sides as if he had to physically hold himself back from reaching out to you. Your heart hurt at that realisation. Your body desperately craved his touch, especially in its weakened state. 

“I’m horrible,” you responded equally quietly, and he immediately got worried. 

“What can I do? Did you have your meds? Lie down, why are you standing?” he started frantically, moving closer, guiding you to the bed. 

“I’m fine, Stevie, don’t worry,” you assured him, chuckling softly. “I only meant that my head is spinning from everything I learned today,” and he took a breath of relief. 

You sat back down on the edge of your bed, right back where you two started. A silence fell over the room, thick with both of you having a million and one things to say but not nearly enough words in your dictionary to articulate them. 

Finally, you broke the silence. “I see why you kept all that from me.”

“You do?” he whispered. 

You nodded, looking down and fidgeting with your fingers. “I mean, my issues still made it hurt a lot, and I’m not happy that you kept it from me. But I get that you wanted to protect me. I would have done the same thing if I were in your place.” 

Steve breathed a massive sigh of relief. He knelt in front of you, taking your hands in his. 

“I am so, so sorry for keeping things from you, doll. I just couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to you. I’d never forgive myself. I wouldn’t be able to live,” he pleaded. 

“Well, that didn’t work out too well,” you joked. 

Steve snorted softly, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, tell me about it.” You smiled slightly in response at your predicament. It was funny how they all went through so much to keep you safe. They hadn’t meant to hurt you; you knew that now. But you had ended up getting hurt anyway, both from their metaphorical and literal monsters.

“Please give me another chance,” he whispered. 

You looked at him for a moment, considering it. “Promise to never keep things from me?” 

He nodded immediately. “I promise, baby. Never keeping things from you. It only ever got me close to losing you, and I can’t have that.”

You swallowed, nodding finally. 

His eyes widened at that. “So we can try again?”

You nodded with a small smile. “Yeah, we can.” 

Steve grinned widely, sitting next to you on the bed and pulling you into a kiss. You happily kissed back, letting your entire body sink into it. Finally, all that accumulated pain in your chest from a Steve Harrington deficiency was dissipating, and you were more than happy to let it go.

“No more secrets,” he mumbled against your lips. “None at all.” He kissed you again. 

When you two finally pulled away, Steve mumbled, “By the way, in the spirit of not keeping secrets, I’m wearing SpongeBob underwear.” 

You burst into laughter immediately, swatting his chest. “You are an idiot, Steve Harrington.” 

Steve grinned proudly, bringing the hand that swatted his chest up to his lips. “And you’re beautiful, Y/n Byers.” 

You looked at him with a smitten smile for a second, and then he broke the silence again. “So, in the spirit of not keeping secrets, what about you?” he asked cheesily. 

“Ew, Steve,” you shoved him away, laughing. 

He pressed one last kiss to your forehead before going all mom mode on you, changing your bandages, giving you more painkillers, and adjusting blankets and pillows around you to make sure the pain was minimised as much as possible. At the end of the night, he lay down next to you, pulling you into his chest. 

“I love you, doll,” he mumbled against your forehead. 

“I love you, too, Stevie,” you responded. “Oh, by the way,” you pulled back a bit and reached onto your nightstand to grab the scrapbook. “Happy Anniversary.” 

He rolled you onto your back without ever leaving you, hooked your legs over his arms, and drove deeper.

“There it is,” he murmured, watching your face. “Already shaking for me.”

You were. The second orgasm hit harder, brighter, your nails digging into his shoulders as your body seized around him. Steve didn’t slow. He fucked you through every pulse of it, grinding the base of his cock against your clit on every stroke, keeping the pressure constant until the pleasure tipped over into something sharper. Your thighs trembled. Your voice cracked on his name. He just kept moving, steady and deep, like your climax was simply more reason to continue.

By the third time you came the overstimulation was already setting in. Every nerve ending felt scraped raw. Steve noticed the change in the way you clenched around him, tighter, more erratic, and adjusted without mercy. He pulled you to the edge of the couch so he could stand between your legs, hands firm on the backs of your knees, holding you open while he drove into that spot inside you that made your vision blur.

“Look at you,” he said, voice low and rough. “Taking it so well. Keep coming for me.”

You did. The orgasm tore through you without warning, wetter than the last, your body gushing around him as your legs shook hard enough that he had to pin them open. Steve groaned at the feeling and kept the same pace, cock dragging through the mess, the wet sounds filling the quiet room. Every time the head of his cock caught on your rim on the way out you whimpered. Every time he sank back in to the hilt another aftershock rippled through you.

He didn’t stop.

He carried you down the hall to his bedroom still buried inside you, laid you on the bed, and followed without missing a thrust. The change of position made everything feel new and overwhelming again. Your clit was so swollen and sensitive that even the lightest brush of his pelvis made you jolt. Steve angled deliberately so every stroke dragged against it, watching the way your body reacted with something close to fascination.

“You’re so fucking sensitive now,” he said, almost to himself. “I can feel every little twitch. Give me another one.”

Your fourth orgasm hit while he was folding you nearly in half, thighs pressed toward your chest, cock driving deep and relentless. Your hands scrambled for purchase on the sheets. Steve laced your fingers with his and pinned them above your head, still fucking you in that same unhurried, devastating rhythm. He came again somewhere in the middle of it, another hot rush of him spilling inside you, but it barely interrupted him. He thrust through his own orgasm the same way he always did, like finishing was just more fuel.

You lost count after that.

He flipped you onto your stomach, pulled your hips up, and slid back in from behind. Chest pressed along your back, mouth against your ear, one hand reaching under you to find your clit. Two fingers stroked in time with his thrusts and the dual sensation short-circuited whatever coherence you had left. The orgasm that followed was long and continuous, your whole body locking up and then shaking hard enough that the bedframe creaked. Steve fucked you through every second of it, never slowing, never easing off.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Keep going. You’re not done yet.”

Tears slipped sideways into the pillow, not from pain, from the sheer volume of sensation. Your body had stopped feeling like it belonged to you. Every thrust sent sparks up your spine. Your cunt kept fluttering around him even between orgasms, oversensitive and raw. Steve felt every pulse of it and used it, adjusting the angle so the head of his cock rubbed continuously over that swollen place inside you until the next climax started building almost immediately.

He shifted you onto your sides, spooning you from behind, one arm under your head, the other wrapped around your waist so he could keep stroking your clit while he fucked you in long, slow strokes. The position was almost gentle. The effect was anything but. You could feel every inch of him. every ridge, every pulse, the way the head of his cock dragged over that oversensitive spot on every thrust. Your clit was so sensitive that even the lightest touch of his fingers made you jolt.

“You’re shaking so hard,” he said against the back of your neck, voice rough with satisfaction. “I can feel how close you are again. Don’t hold it back.”

You came with a broken sound, body arching and then going loose, trembling hard. Steve kept the same pace through the entire thing, cock sliding through the mess he’d already left, never pulling out, never giving you more than a few seconds of relief before the next wave started building. Your legs wouldn’t stop shaking. Every muscle felt worked past its limit. The simple act of him sliding in and out was almost too much and somehow still not enough to make him stop.

He rolled you onto your back again and settled between your legs, bracing on his forearms so he could watch your face. The eye contact made everything more intense. His pupils were blown, mouth soft, brows drawn together like he was the one being wrecked, but his hips never faltered. He kissed you between thrusts, thorough and claiming, while his cock kept driving into you in that same relentless rhythm.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he said. “All shaky and oversensitive and still taking every inch. Give me one more.”

You did. The orgasm tore through you harder than the others, your whole body locking up and then dissolving into fine, continuous tremors. Steve groaned and fucked you through it, never once breaking rhythm. When you finally went limp under him he slowed, just a little, but he didn’t pull out. He stayed buried deep and kept rocking into you in tiny, shallow thrusts that kept the overstimulation simmering instead of letting it fade.

He came again at some point, another pulse of heat deep inside you, and still he kept moving. The mess between you was soaking the sheets. Every time he pulled back a little you could feel it leaking out around his cock, running down your thighs. He used it as extra slick and drove back in without pause.

Time blurred completely.

He pulled you astride him, hands firm on your hips, guiding you into a slow, grinding rhythm while he thrust up to meet you. The position let you feel every inch of him, every pulse, every ridge. Your clit dragged against his pelvis with every roll of your hips and the overstimulation was almost unbearable. Steve watched your face the whole time, expression focused, almost hungry.

“That’s it,” he said. “Ride it out. You’re not done until I say you’re done.”

You came again, collapsing forward against his chest as the orgasm ripped through you. Steve held you close and kept moving under you, soft and relentless, fucking you through every pulse of it. His cock never softened. The mess only grew. He shifted your legs higher around his waist, folding you open so he could sink even deeper, the head of his cock pressing continuously against that swollen, oversensitive spot inside you. Every thrust sent another bright spark up your spine.

Your hands clutched at his back. Nails dug in. Another climax started building almost immediately and Steve felt it, hips rolling harder, deeper, refusing to let the pressure ease.

“Come on,” he murmured against your temple. “I can feel it. Let go.”

You did, quieter this time, a long, trembling wave that left you boneless beneath him. He kissed the tears from your cheeks and kept moving through it, hips rolling in that same unhurried rhythm that had already wrung so many orgasms out of you. His hand stayed between your bodies, two fingers gently circling your clit in time with his thrusts, never quite letting the overstimulation settle.

He flipped you onto your stomach again, pulled your hips up just enough, and slid back in from behind. One hand reached under you to keep stroking your clit. The dual sensation short-circuited what little coherence you had left. The orgasm that followed was continuous, rolling, your body shaking so hard the bed creaked. Steve fucked you through every second of it, chest pressed along your back, mouth against your ear, voice low and rough with pleasure.

“Good,” he said. “Keep taking it. You’re so fucking wet for me.”

Your legs were trembling so hard they wouldn’t stay still. He pinned them open with his hands on the backs of your thighs and kept driving into you, cock sliding through the slick heat of you with wet, filthy sounds. Every nerve ending felt raw. Every brush of his skin against yours was enough to make you twitch. Steve seemed to thrive on it, on the way your body kept responding even when it was clearly too much, on the fine tremor running through your thighs, on the broken little sounds you couldn’t stop making.

He shifted you onto your sides again, spooning you from behind, one arm under your head, the other wrapped around your waist so he could keep stroking your clit while he fucked you in long, slow strokes. The position was almost intimate. The effect was devastating. You could feel every inch of him dragging through the mess, every pulse, every ridge. Your clit was so sensitive that even the lightest touch of his fingers made you jolt.

“You’re shaking so hard,” he said against the back of your neck. “I can feel how oversensitive you are. You’re still going to come for me again.”

You did. The climax hit with a quiet, broken sound, your body arching and then going loose, trembling hard. Steve kept the same pace through the entire thing, never pulling out, never giving you more than a few seconds before the next wave started building. Your cunt kept fluttering around him even between orgasms, oversensitive and raw. He felt every pulse of it and used it, adjusting the angle so the head of his cock rubbed continuously over that swollen place inside you until the next climax started almost immediately.

Eventually the continuous waves started to ease into something slower, deeper, almost floaty. Your body was completely oversensitive now, every nerve ending raw, every brush of his skin against yours enough to make you twitch. Steve sensed the shift. He eased the intensity without fully stopping, moving in long, slow strokes that let you feel every inch of him dragging through the mess he’d left inside you. His hand stayed between your bodies, two fingers gently circling your clit in time with his thrusts, never quite letting the overstimulation settle.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, voice rough against your temple. “You’re shaking so hard. You’re still taking me so well. One more.”

You came again, quieter, longer, a trembling wave that left you boneless. Steve kissed the tears from your cheeks and kept moving through it, hips rolling in that same unhurried rhythm. His cock stayed thick and insistent. The mess between you only grew. He shifted your legs higher around his waist, folding you open so he could sink even deeper, the head of his cock pressing continuously against that oversensitive spot. Every thrust sent another bright spark up your spine.

Your hands clutched at his back. Another climax started building almost immediately. Steve felt it and rolled his hips harder, deeper, refusing to let the pressure ease.

“That’s it,” he said. “I can feel it. Let go for me.”

You did. The orgasm tore through you, body locking up and then dissolving into fine, continuous tremors. Steve fucked you through every pulse of it, never once breaking rhythm. When you finally went limp under him he slowed, just a little, but he didn’t pull out. He stayed buried deep and kept rocking into you in tiny, shallow thrusts that kept the overstimulation simmering instead of letting it fade.

He came again at some point, another hot rush of him spilling deep inside you, and still he kept moving. The sheets were soaked. Every time he pulled back a little you could feel it leaking out around his cock, running down your thighs. He used it as extra slick and drove back in without pause.

Steve Harrington kept going until your body was completely wrung out, until you were soft and trembling and so full of him you couldn’t think of anything else. Until even the softest brush of his skin against yours was enough to make you twitch. Until the continuous waves of sensation finally started to ease into something slower, deeper, almost floaty.

And even then, he kept moving, steady, focused, completely unapologetic, and utterly unable to stop.

He got to see how the other staff treated you when you weren’t on call. How they’d call you ‘lazy’ and ‘useless’ when the day before that, you’d saved a patient that was in a life-threatening condition. How they all planned to go out for drinks but would never invite you to go along with them. Steve tried to bring it up to you, but you shrugged it off and told him it didn’t bother you, but it clearly did, and he saw how much it did.

If you had the choice to not be at an award ceremony of all places right now, you’d be curled up under your sheets, smiling to yourself because you didn’t need to walk from table to table to greet everyone there and try talk about something interesting in your not so interesting life, but you didn’t have the choice. Of course you didn’t.

You’ve been stood at the drinks stand since you arrived at the award ceremony five minutes ago, cup to your lips, tilting your head back, but the liquid doesn’t meet your lips once. You planned on driving yourself home, which meant no drinking. You were trying to keep yourself looking busy whilst you were waiting for Robin and Nancy to arrive. More specifically, Steve.

They were the only reason you were attending tonight. When they heard that there was an award ceremony that you and Steve had to attend, they already invited themselves to go along with you, because they weren’t passing up an opportunity to celebrate with their friends and get free drinks.

They also wanted to get a good look at you and Steve together, even though you’ve told them countless times there’s nothing going on between you and him, but the way you look at him and talk about him apparently says otherwise.

The doors open into the hall, and you stick your head out to get a better look at who’s walked in, hoping that it’s someone you know so that you’re not stood at the drinks table for hours looking like you’re only here to get hammered. Robin and Nancy swerve their way around the circular tables that you’re still not sure which one you’re supposed to be sat at. You’ll be shocked if you got a table reserved for you at all.

“Is Steve not with you?” Robin asks as she stops in front of you, raising her eyebrows like she’s expecting for you to know where Steve is all the time just because she has this slight, well, maybe huge feeling that he’s into you.

Of course that had to be the first thing she asked. It feels like they’re trying to wave it in your face now. It seems like a huge shock to them when they see that you’re not with Steve. You and Steve are friends, and it’s not like you have some sort of attachment to him.

“No.” You sigh, flattening a crease in your dress, glancing around the room. “I mean, I haven’t seen him yet.”

Robin snorts with that stupid smile. “Very bold of you to assume that you’d even need to look around to find him.”

You shoot her a glare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Nancy steps beside you with a plastic cup in her hand, a sweet smile on her face. “She means he’ll come up to you as soon as he gets here. You won’t need to look for him. You know what he’s like when it comes to you.” She says it like it should be obvious to you, sipping her drink.

“You’re both making this sound romantic.” You huff, resting your hands on the table behind you.

“Because it is!” Robin laughs, bracing her hands on either side of your arms. “He clearly likes you. It makes me want to pull my eyes out and wash them in soap every time I see him basically drooling over you like a puppy. It’s disgusting, don’t get me wrong, but it’s also really obvious.”

You huff, letting your head flop down to Robin’s shoulder and slumping forward. She brings her hand to your back, gently rubbing up and down. By the time Steve gets here, you’ll already have sunk into the floor after hearing everything that has left Robin’s mouth, and she hasn’t even been in here for five minutes yet. God knows what she’s going to be saying in an hour.

She pauses her hand on your back, and your heart almost stops thinking that Steve has arrived. He’s making you react in ways you don’t want to discuss with anyone, and he isn’t here yet. “You do the exact same thing when you see him, by the way.” She grins.

You lift your head from her shoulder and squint at her.

“You know, he’s probably just as nervous as you.” Nancy assures you, looking over her cup at you. She’s too good at noticing how you feel, it’s terrifying. “It’s a pretty big event and he definitely knows he’s going to be walking in to see you in a gorgeous dress tonight. He’s not going to want to make a complete mess of himself around everyone in here, though he probably will. You look so gorgeous.”

Her comment has your cheeks heating up. “I’m not nervous.” You mumble.

Robin glances at Nancy, then back to you. “You totally are. You’re practically shaking like a leaf.”

You fold your arms over your chest, trying to ignore the goosebumps prickling at your skin, looking down at the floor. “Shut up.” You murmur, completely defeated.

Your face is burning up, and you know that if you even slightly lift your head up, Robin will make some comment about you being so hopelessly in love with him that you might as well shout it out to the world. It only makes it worse knowing that if they can see how obvious you are, then Steve probably can too. The thought of Steve knowing how you feel about him makes your stomach turn. He couldn’t possibly know.

“This is your night tonight.” Nancy says quietly, brushing her thumb over your arm with a small smile. “We’ll be cheering you on. So will he.”

“We don’t even know if he likes me like that. You’re probably digging into it too much. It’s not like he’s said anything.” You whisper, shaking your head in disbelief.

Nancy squeezes your arm. “Trust me, he really does. He doesn’t need to say anything at all for us to know.”

“Speak of the devil.” Robin says, rolling her eyes as Steve comes up behind you, resting his hand on your lower back.

You almost pass out on the spot feeling his big hand splayed out on your back. He does this every time he greets you and it makes your throat go dry every time without fail. Everything in you hopes that he didn’t overhear what they were saying to you seconds ago. Then you’d really want to crawl into a hole and never come back out.

“Devil?” Steve asks Robin. “Where?”

“You have zero self-awareness.” Robin laughs.

You’re too aware of the feeling of Steve’s hand on you that you can’t focus on anything but his hand. So much for trying to stay subtle about how you felt in front of everyone. Nobody speaks until Nancy does that breath in that people do when it gets awkwardly silent and she flashes you and Steve a smile.

“Well, me and Robin are going to head over to our seats now.” Nancy says, turning her attention to you more than to Steve. “We’ll be cheering you on from the side the whole time.”

You flash her a sweet smile, taking a few steps towards her and cringe at already feeling the loss of Steve’s hand on you. She wraps her arms around you for a few seconds before pulling back with a knowing smile. You don’t need to be smart to know what she’s smiling about, and the nerves already start to creep in as you realise that you’re about to be left alone with Steve.

Robin grins at you as she slowly walks backwards towards their seats, saluting to you. “You’ve got this.” She says reassuringly as Nancy steps beside her, walking over to their seats which are all the way across the hall from where you and Steve have to sit. You don’t know whether to be relieved or anxious that they’re going to be nowhere near you for the next few hours. You’re not going to have anyone to tease you about Steve, but you also have no one to lean onto if you stumble on your words in front of him.

Now it’s just you and Steve alone together, you can feel the heat spreading across your cheeks. You haven’t been able to look into his eyes since he got here, because the one thing you don’t want to do is to blankly stare at him because you’ve forgotten every word you’ve learnt up until now.

He steps in front of you with that stupid grin that you’d love to wipe off his face, possibly with a kiss. You’re trying so hard not to get too ahead of yourself. “The dress looks amazing on you.” He swallows but replaces his nerves with a wavering smile. God, he needs to shut up before you embarrass yourself in front of him.

You glance down at your golden, glittery dress that goes down to your feet and then look into his eyes, which was your first biggest mistake of the night. You’re going to end up like one of your patients if he doesn’t stop looking at you like that by the end of the night. Like he’s about to pounce on you. He’s wearing a gorgeous black suit, which is very different from the uniform that he wears on shift.

Your eyes flick down to his tie, which is coincidentally, gold. You had no part in coordinating your outfits, and it’s probably starting to look like you’re a couple. Not that you’d exactly be mad at that, but now you’re starting to wonder if he’s doing this on purpose.

“Thank you, Steve.” You say with an awkward smile, feeling your stomach doing flips at his comment. “I like your suit.” You say, suddenly panicking as you try not to let the conversation die down too soon because of your loss for words. “It’s very different.”

“It’s nice not being in uniform for once.” He grins. “I’m glad I have an excuse to wear this suit. I haven’t worn this in years.” He says as he brushes his hand along his sleeve.

You cover your laugh by shoving your lip between your teeth and that only causes Steve to smile at you more. He’s such an idiot. “I was going to say, it looks a bit small on you.” You manage out, slightly breathlessly.

“It’s not often I go out to events. It’s not something that I’ve done in a while anyway.” He laughs. “If you weren’t here tonight, I wouldn’t have turned up either. Then this suit would be left in my wardrobe to get dusty for a few more years.”

Hearing him say that he wouldn’t have turned up if you didn’t turn up made this feel more special than you thought it was. Then you started to think that maybe he only said that to make you feel better about being here. He knew exactly how you felt about this event without having to ask you.

Either way, his comment made your breath catch in your throat and the tips of your ears burn. He’s always too sweet with his words. You have no idea how you’re still upright with him in front of you saying things like that. He could be saying these things to anyone, and he chose to say them to you.

“Should we go find our table?” You ask quietly.

He nods, gently closing his shaky hand around your wrist as if to check that you don’t mind and then guiding you towards the circular tables. There are place cards set out on each table with tiered sweet treat stands in the centre of the tables. He stops at a table that has your names on place cards next to each other.

You felt a moment of relief seeing that you weren’t placed on a table with people that don’t know you, or worse, people that completely despise you. Steve pulls out the seat for you with a grin, resting his other hand behind his back. If Robin was beside you, she’d probably be fake gagging and telling you to go somewhere more private.

You sit down on the chair, and he takes a seat beside you, resting his elbow on the table. The other people that have been placed on your table are already deep in conversation, probably three drinks into their conversation too, so Steve’s full attention is on you.

“Y’know.” He starts, making you jump. “That dress you’re wearing makes you look like a real winner.”

Those words should make you feel good about yourself but knowing how you’re perceived by the staff you work with, it doesn’t. “I’m not a winner of any sorts, Steve.” You say disappointedly.

He tilts his head to the side and places his hand on your knee, giving it a squeeze. “Hey, where’s this coming from? You deserve to be sat here more than, well, most people in this room.” He says gently, almost concerned for you.

You shake your head, and you can see the second that your words devastate him. His lips are parted like he’s lost for words and his eyes have gone wide and you can feel your mouth starting to go dry. “That’s not what our team thinks of me. They’ll never see me as a winner.”

“I don’t care what they think about you.” He whisper shouts, leaning closer to you. “Neither should you. I mean, God, you have more achievements than all of them combined. They can’t say that about themselves, but you can.” He says, pointing to your chest. “That’s really special.”

You sigh, dropping your eyes to his hand that’s still on your knee. “It’s hard to think like you when I’m constantly around them.”

“I know, but I want you to know that whatever they think, or feel, has nothing to do with you. They’ll never be as successful as you, and they know that.” He says seriously, not taking his eyes away from you once. “You’re the most talented woman I know. Don’t let any man, sorry, I mean, boy, make you feel any other way about that.”

At this point, you stay silent, because there really is nothing else you can say to deny him. Nancy and Robin would say the same thing to you, and you wouldn’t disagree with them either. The staff on your team have been commenting on you since your first day, and it hasn’t got any better. There was nothing you could do, but deep down, you knew that a lot of it came from their idea that they were tougher than you, that they could do better than you.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and it feels like if you try to speak, nothing but air will slip out, so you settle on staying quiet for the time being. He notices your hesitation to say anything, so he keeps talking. “If anyone deserves an award tonight, it’s you. You deserve all the credit for the things that you have done to help people in these past few years, and that includes you helping the team, even when they’ve made you feel like shit.” He whispers, gently taking your hands into his. “One day, you’ll see how much of an impact you have on people. I want to see you talking good about yourself in the future, because that’s what you deserve.”

Before you can think of what to say back to him, a voice blares through the speakers in the hall, and you and Steve turn your heads to look over. A lady is stood at the front, welcoming everyone in whilst the helpers behind her set up the walkway onto the stage and the certificates that’ll be handed out as everyone walks up to collect theirs.

Steve’s hand is still on yours, gently brushing his thumb over your palm, and you’re staying completely still so that he doesn’t suddenly remove his hand. You’re already sweating under his touch, and it isn’t hot in this hall at all. You can’t tell if you’re nervous about the ceremony or if Steve being so close to you is making your body react in ways that can’t be normal.

The lady starts to read the names of people that have been awarded a certificate from the sheet of paper in front of her, and the text on the paper must be tiny if she’s got her face shoved into the sheet. She starts to read out people’s names one by one, sharing a weak smile before going on to read the next person. There are multiple medical teams here, so you’re expecting her to lose her voice by the end of the presentations.

Chairs scrape against the floorboards as people get up to walk to the stage, picking up their certificates and waving to their friends and family. As the lady keeps reading through the list, you realise that they’ve got everyone’s full legal names down. You can imagine the number of people cringing as they stand up to have their full legal name read out instead of their nicknames.

You glance at your hand that’s covered by Steve’s, and then you side glance at him. “Full legal names, huh?” You grin.

He rolls his eyes, but a grin twitches at his mouth despite his annoyance. “I don’t think a single person in here actually goes by their full name.”

“You’re probably right, Steven.” You laugh, nudging his side with your elbow.

He shoots a glare at you, but he completely fails at trying to act annoyed. You’re convinced that you could never really annoy him after all your attempts to do so.

"It’s an extra letter at the end of your name, Steve. I promise you it won’t be half as bad as some of the names that are being read out right now.” You say with a sweet smile and he squeezes your hand.

“Yeah.” He laughs. “I bet Elizabeth is having a great day after having her name read out.”

You grin at his comment, turning your attention back to the stage. It takes a while for people to read out their personal speeches and for the lady to finally get to your team’s names. You watch as one by one, your team members stand up, high fiving each other before they walk up onto the stage, proudly showing off their certificates as if they put any effort into getting them. The most effort they’ve put in during these few years has been them walking up to the stage, nothing more.

“Steven Harrington.” She calls out and Steve quickly turns to look at you, bringing both your hands into his to squeeze for a moment before he slips out his seat, walking across the walkway to receive his certificate.

His eyes land on you as soon as he steps up on the stage and you hope that he can’t see how flushed your face is. She keeps reading through the list and it comes to a stop after a few more names after Steve’s. The hall erupts with cheers and whistles, but you stay sat down, watching as the lady steps off the stage so that people can get a better look at the award winners.

The realisation sinks deep into you once you realise that you were never put down to get an award, and it had everything to do with your team. Your face drops and you watch as Steve frantically looks around the stage, looking around to see if there was more names to be read out. Your stomach drops seeing him look so devastated. He should be celebrating right now. You should be celebrating together.

Some people start to walk off the stage, sprinting over to their friends and family. Some stay on the stage, badly torn pieces of paper shakily moving in their hands as they line up to read speeches out. Steve glances behind him to see if anyone’s going up first, and when he sees that there isn’t a coordinated queue, he steps up to the microphone before anyone else can, resting his hand on top of it.

“Hey.” He clears his throat, awkwardly glancing around the room. “I didn’t plan a speech at all, so don’t expect anything poetic.”

You’ve never seen Steve look this nervous besides him being nervous around you. There are hundreds of people in this room, and whether their attention is on him or not, his attention is on you. Robin’s definitely going to be teasing him about this once he finishes up with whatever he’s going to say, you can already vision her dramatically playing out everything he says.

He grips onto his certificate, leaning back towards the microphone. “There’s someone that should be up here on the stage with a certificate right now, but she’s not.” He starts sadly, pausing as he thinks about how he should say his next words. “She’s the one person that I think deserves to be awarded for everything she’s done. There hasn’t been one day that she hasn’t put all her effort into helping others, even when it’s been hard for her.”

You’re finding it hard to believe that he’s up on stage, talking so sweetly about you in front of people who don’t care about your successes. You bite down on the inside of your cheek nervously, getting more flustered as he continues to speak about you.

“She never gets enough credit for what she does, and a certificate wouldn’t be enough to credit her at all. She’ll go about her day normally as if she didn’t just save someone that was in a life-threatening condition. She comes up with these amazing ideas on the spot whilst she’s in a stressful situation, that not even I would’ve thought of.” He says, shaking his head in disbelief. “She’s also really good with her words. So, whilst she’s helping a patient, she’s comforting that patient’s friend or family member at the same time. How she can multitask like that, I have no idea.” He laughs.

No one else on your team would’ve done this for you, and that’s what’s so special about Steve. He’s never been afraid to talk to people about you. He’s always been there to take care of you after a long day. He always notices when you’re acting off. Now he’s up on the stage, letting everyone know how deserving you are of credit because he loves you so, so much.

It’s only taken you a few years of friendship when you met him through Robin, sobbing in his arms after a long day at work, him listening to your deep conversations on the ride back home in the ambulance after a shift ended and him standing up to talk about you in front of hundreds of people for you to realise that you couldn’t love anyone more than him.

“She shouldn’t be sat at her table right now. She should’ve been the first name that was read out on the list.” He says, looking directly at you. “Nobody deserves an award more than she does.”

He steps back from the microphone, and it takes a few seconds for people to start to stand up, clapping and cheering. Your body blooms with heat as you watch him make his way off the stage, swerving around the tables and breathlessly standing in front of you nervously.

“I’m so sorry that you didn’t get an award.” He manages out, mindlessly throwing his certificate down on the table and placing his hands either side of your face, rubbing his thumbs along your cheeks.

You laugh breathlessly, quickly shaking your head, placing your hands on top of where his are rested on your face. “Hey, Steve, Steve, slow down. It’s okay. I really don’t care.”

“No, that wasn’t okay.” He shakes his head. “You’ve put so much effort in every day, just for you to not be awarded with anything. You deserved to walk up on that stage and be proud of everything that you’ve done. I don’t know who’s in charge of nominating people, but they’re in for serious shit when I…”

“Steve!” You laugh, cutting him off and slipping your hands into his hair, trying to get him to stay still. “Seriously, I don’t care that I didn’t get anything. I don’t put effort in to receive an award. I put effort in because I care about people and I want to help them. This is the least of my worries right now.”

He stays silent as he tries to catch his breath, and you take that as your sign to say more. “What you did for me was all that was important to me. Your speech was more important than a certificate.” You say quietly. “You told people about things I’ve done that nobody would’ve known until today. That’s the sweetest thing anyone has done for me, Steve.”

“That’s what you deserve. You deserved everyone that stood up and cheered for you.” He smiles, leaning down to rest his forehead on yours, dropping his hands to your hips. He’s never been this close to you before, and you can feel your heart in your throat. “I like this.” He says quietly. “I also hope you realise how much I love you because fuck, I think I’m dying over here. Shit… I really hope I’m saying this at the right time.”

“I think I already worked that out a while ago, but it’s a perfect time to tell me.” You whisper with a small laugh, brushing your hands through his hair. “I love you, Steve.”

He grins, pulling you closer to him by your hips. His hand slips up to cup your cheek, carefully lifting your face up so that you’re looking directly at him. He brushes his lips against yours in a gentle kiss and your nerves start to settle for the first time tonight. For the first time tonight, you didn’t feel like you were out of place in a place that wasn’t so accepting of you.

Once he pulled back, you felt the loss of his soft lips on yours and craved more of it. There was no way you were getting to the end of the night with only one kiss from him. His face is hot to the touch, and he was struggling to take a breath in, and you couldn’t blame him. Your mind was moving at a million miles per hour right now.

He slips his hand into yours, and without a thought, leads you through a crowd of people that are drunkenly dancing under a mirrorball. “We’re not staying in here a second longer.” He mutters under his breath, pushing past all the people that were tightly squished together in one space.

Once he manages to get you both outside, he lets out a relieved breath and leads you to his car that’s parked in the front parking lot. He stops in front of his car with a cocky grin, leaning back in and pressing his lips to yours in a frantic kiss. His hands are all over your body, not sure where to place them. Your laughs are muffled against his lips, and he takes his chance to slip his tongue past your parted lips.

“Pretty.” He murmurs against your lips breathlessly.

You slowly pull away, your cheeks flushed. “I see what Robin means.” You laugh.

He raises his eyebrows at you, tilting his head to the side. “Nothing great comes out of Robin’s mouth. Seriously. I don’t think I want to know what she said.”

You grin. “For the best.”

He rests his hands on your hips again, pulling you close to his chest and pressing his lips to the top of your head. His shoulders drop as he holds you close to him. “Think we should move this to my room.”

Thank you for reading!! Liking and reblogging is very much appreciated!! 💕 So sorry it took me a while to get to this. My cramps ended up taking me out 😫 I'm actually sick at how cute this is

When Steve jumped onto that boat last minute, leaving you on ground with the kids, you were pissed.

When they got further and further you started were worried.

When the cops arrived and you had to run off, leaving Steve and the others on the boat in the middle of the lake, you were scared.

When you hadn't heard anything from Steve by the time you got to the Wheelers house you were panicking.

When you were faced with a guilt ridden Dustin after being questioned by an officer, you almost broke down in fear. Steve was there.

When you got to Eddies trailer, you didn't even remember the bike ride, you hadn't fully comprehended what had even happened, just trusting that Dustin's theory was right and that in less than an hour you'd have everyone back.

When you stood behind and watched Dustin break down the barrier to the gate, your whole world internally fell apart at the site of Steve; He was bruised, bleeding, ripped apart at every seam. You were forced to put all your emotions aside to get everyone back together in one piece, and when Nancy fell into a trance you pushed everything down.

When Nancy came back everyone rushed to get her and Steve to the right side up, checking she's okay, kids asking what had happened, the feelings began to resurface as quick as they were pushed down.

Now you were all sat on the floor of Eddies trailer, still underneath the gate. Nancy had just finished explaining what she'd seen in her trance, beginning on a new plan.

Everyone faded into smaller conversations and began shifting around you whilst you stayed silent, all the emotions from the past couple hours catching up rapidly.

You still hadn't spoken to Steve, not having a chance. He sat opposite you, also in silence, but staring right at you. You finally caught his eye and he shifted immediately, like he'd been waiting for you this whole time.

His head nodded to the side, gesturing away from the group slightly. You stood without thinking, him mirroring your movements and you both found yourself the closest you'd been to him in what felt like months.

"Alright?" His voice was harsh, strained, like every syllable clawed at his throat on the way out.

You didn't answer, barely kept your gaze on his. When he reached out to grab your arm you shifted away, all your emotions of fear and worry expressing themselves as a white hot anger.

You didn't want to be angry, you wanted to hold him, cry into him, heal his wounds, grab on and never let go. But for some reason you couldn't bring yourself to.

"Princess what- what's wrong"

He stepped forward as you stepped away, your back now hitting the wall where you both stood face to face in the hallway between the kitchen and the bedroom.

"Why are you-" His hands found your arms but as quickly as they did, you used all your strength to push him off you, his own back now hitting the wall behind him.

He let out a pained groan when he hit the wall, stumbling as he wasn't expecting it. It caught you as off guard as much as it did him.

All your anger and frustration and worry was too much, and you'd taken it out on the one person you just wanted to tell you it was okay.

The noise of Steve hitting the wall and the noise from his mouth made everyone stop and stare. It also broke you, externally.

Steve saw, of course he did. The way your eyes glossed over, the way your bottom lip trembled, the way you didn't know what to do with your hands.

He just wished he noticed quicker, despite what you'd done, he was worried about you. Before you could stop it, a loud, choked sob fell from your lips.

Steve's eyes flicked from you to the group, to you, then to the door on the right; the door to Eddies bedroom.

He takes your wrist and pulls you into the room, shutting the door and taking you away from all the eyes in the other direction, before you could even allow a second sob to escape.

The second the door is shut your tears fall, quick, heavy, unstoppable. You lose breath, whole body shaking as you cried loudly.

Steve grabs your waist, trying to pull you into him but you resist on instinct.

"Baby girl please talk to me-"

"No"

Your shaking hands fly up to cover your face.

"Cmon please I hate seeing you upset"

"It's your fault Steve."

He lets go, more shocked by your words than your physical action earlier as your hands drop so you can look at him.

"what-"

"You went- You left me-" You step forward, hitting your palms lightly against his chest.

"Princess I-"

"No" You were still crying, hands now just griping into the denim vest, but your voice was certain, you needed to get your words across to him.

"You went- on that boat..." You continue "Then I lost you- Then to find out-"

A painful cry cuts you off for a moment, one of Steve's hands gently taking your cheek holding it in his own larger hands, wanting to comfort you but scared of overstepping.

"It's okay-"

"It's not okay Steve- You went there, alone"

You were still sobbing, his hand catching the hot tears. As much as you were angry you couldn't help but lean into his hand, unconsciously pressing light kisses to the inside of his palm.

"It was fucking scary hearing you were there then- seeing you, like this" You gestured to his violated body, hands moving from his chest to hold both of his between your two bodies.

"I'm sorry"

"Robin told me" Another sob, before continuing, quieter this time.

“Nancy thought you were a goner”

His hands tighten on yours, eyes squeezing shut, not saying anything.

"You were going to die down there Steve"

A tear fell, from him this time. You pull on his hands, forcing him closer, needing him closer despite your anger.

"You were going to die, and I- I'd have no idea" Your voice broke at the last word, the reality sinking deep as you spoke your thoughts out loud.

"I wouldn't have known- that you- died there- all alone" You shook your hands in his, trying to emphasise your words with weak little movements.

This time he cried out, letting go of your hands to pull you in by the waist, burying his face into your neck, sobbing quietly.

"I'm sorry"

"And I can't do that- I can't lose you Steve"

"I'm sorry Princess"

"We've lost a lot of people- but you- I don't think I'd cope"

"You didn't lose me"

"That's not the point"

"But I'm here"

"And this isn't just about me and you-"

"I-"

"It's everyone-"

"I know"

A beat of silence, you both showering each other in your tears just holding each other with fear that if you let go then that would be it.

That actually maybe he did die down there, that all this was in your head. The brief thought makes you feel sick, sending a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

"Fuck Steve I don't know what I'd do if-"

"Don't"

"But if you did-"

"I didn't-"

"Shit- Never- ever leave me again"

"I won't"

"I mean it-"

You pull back, hands going to his head to hold him looking at you as you continue, voice coming out as a whisper.

"I don't care if it's, going to the store or going back to the upside down... never leave me"

"Okay-"

"Please"

"I'll never leave you, I'll keep you by my side forever"

You smile, a weak little shift in your lips, but more than you've smiled this whole time. He mirrors you, smiling fondly, before bringing his lips to yours.

He kisses you deeply, softly. You taste the faint salty mess of both your tears mixing together as you kiss him back. You savour the moment, how he feels against you, the taste of him, anger subsiding being replaced with genuine gratitude that he's just here.

You don't pull back at all, just continue to deepen the kiss, the fear that he'll disappear still lingering in the back of your mind.

The only reason you break is the sound of falling against the door beside you, followed by small groans and voices.

When you pull back you don't look to the door, you look at Steve. His brown eyes slight red rimmed and glassy, cheeks flushed pink and wet from tears.

"I love you so much"

"I love you more Princess"

You kiss him again, quicker, just a reminder to yourself he's there.

"And anyway, you're never getting rid of me"

"Oh really?"

"No matter how hard you try"

"I wouldn't want it any other way"

When you both eventually emerged from the room, the others had clearly been trying to listen from behind the door.

When the kids whispered to each other and the girls came to comfort you and Eddie hounded Steve on snooping through his room, Steve stayed by your side.

When you left the trailer, Steve was by your side.