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fairyysoup · 11 months

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i can see you

♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret history of your long and arduous relationship with Steve Harrington.

aka: the 5 times you pined over each other, and the time you actually did something about it

words: 17.6k (we're NOT gonna talk about it lol)

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, flirting, making out, heavy petting, slight exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, biting, steve harrington has a big dick, themes of infidelity/cheating (sort of), skipping out on dates, bad dates, steve steal-your-girl harrington, almost-kisses, jealous!steve, jealous!reader, possessive behavior, smoking, alcohol consumption, allusions to marriage but it's never actually mentioned, canon compliant, reader and steve are the same age, 5+1 things, songfic, angst, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, mutual crush, slow burn one shot, mild twist ending, begins in season two (1984) and ends in the 90s, high school, scoops ahoy era, family video era, waiter!steve, steve harrington (the eras tour), vignette, one instance of billy hargrove slander, original characters created for plot, inspired by i can see you by taylor swift, other taylor song inspo throughout bc i'm insane like miss swift

a/n: hi and welcome to ✨rose's mental breakdown✨ yes this song will be my number one on spotify wrapped bc i listened to it on a loop for five days straight while writing this. idk. anyways this is So Much and i'm tired of looking at it so if there are any mistakes i apologize. anyways whoever can point out the most taylor song references aside from the obvious titular one gets a doubloon

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

You brush past me in the hallway, and you don’t think I can see you, do you? I’ve been watchin’ you for ages, and I spend my time trying not to feel it…

Hawkins High, September 1984

He’s so pretty sometimes that it’s disgusting.

That’s really the only thing you think when you watch Steve Harrington sneak up on his girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler, and swoop her off the ground in front of her locker. From across the hall, your locker hangs open, your body turned halfway toward them so that you can pretend that you’re not staring.

You stare a lot.

It’s not exactly the hair, you think- everyone shits a brick about his hair, for some reason that you don’t understand. Yeah, it’s nice… but you like everything else about him, too. You like how sweet he looks when he laughs. You like the way that he holds himself and the way that he looks when he puts his hands on his hips and stands around like he’s directing the traffic around him. You like how much of a prince charming he is, really. It would surprise you if he doesn’t win prom king at the end of the year. They already call him King Steve, it’s not too far of a stretch.

You close your locker just as Steve kisses Nancy, in front of god and everybody in the C Corridor hallway. Steve’s arms wrap around Nancy’s petite frame and he dips her, like they’re in some sort of George Peck and Audrey Hepburn movie. Not that the place is much of a cinematic setting, though. Down the hall, the science rooms are doing their dissection units, so the whole place smells like formaldehyde and disinfectant, and you sort of feel like curling up into one of those dissection pans and dying, yourself.

That should be me, your brain screams. Me!!

It’s always been like this. You’ve had a crush on Steve since freshman year- the fact that he’s dating Nancy, who’s a year younger than him, doesn’t escape your jealous mind. You’ve been in classes with him for four years, you’ve admired him quietly, you’ve hoped and prayed that he somehow noticed you noticing him.

You don’t think he knows you exist. Four years- and now you’re both seniors, about to graduate, and he still doesn’t notice you. You should really stop caring, or stop trying, or stop… pining. Or something.

You hike your bag up onto your shoulder and juggle your books in your arms. The bell rings, and quite suddenly the entire hallway erupts into pandemonium (predictable, sure, considering everyone loiters around instead of actually getting to class on time). Kids fly around you in all directions to get to their next classroom. Nancy Wheeler ducks away from Steve Harrington, avoiding yet another kiss.

God, you wish you could kiss him.

Someone slams into your shoulder from behind, muscling past you to get to science lab 5, rat central. Your binder slips out of the stack of books in your arms and clatters loudly to the ground, just as someone walks past and kicks it across the floor.

“Fuck,” you spit, chasing after it. The back of your neck feels hot. For the first time in four years, you hope to god that Steve Harrington doesn’t notice you.

You duck around people’s legs, trying to grab at your binder, while not trying to drop any more of the books in your arms. Loose papers are starting to fall out of the binder as it skitters across the floor, and this is becoming more and more of a comedy of errors by the minute.

Your fingers just brush the corner of it before someone kicks it again.

“Do you mind?” you snap as they walk away, not even looking in your direction. Crouched close to the floor, you don’t matter. Maybe you could count that as a blessing, considering you don’t want to be perceived right now.

You finally just throw away all dignity and crawl across the tile floor- disgusting and dirty and covered in sandy grit, as though it hasn’t been cleaned all year- to get to your binder.

And you come face to face with a pair of white Nike’s. Ones that you know way too well, because you’ve stared at them every time they’ve passed you in the hallway.

Nonononono- You clench your jaw and then look up, way up, to find Steve Harrington towering over you.

He looks like he was about to just step around you, but then he notices you gazing up at him from all fours, and his hazel eyes lock on yours. You blink at each other for a second before he flushes, a pink blush breaking out on his cheeks and crawling up his neck, and he looks away quickly, but crouches down to grab your binder before your hand can land on it.

“Sorry,” Steve says quietly, gathering up the couple papers that had started to slide out of the folders inside. You sit back on your heels, your blood rushing in your ears, mortified. His big hands gently poke the papers back into the folder as they should be before he hands it to you. “Looks like you’re gonna be late to class.”

You scoff. “Look who’s talking.”

Steve’s eyes find yours again, and he’s finally so close to you that you can admire the little bit of green in them. You’ve never been close enough to notice before.

He cracks a lopsided smile, one that he uses to charm people, you know- you’ve seen him use it on teachers and cute girls alike. “I’m always late to the party. But I get there, eventually.”

“I hope so.” He cocks his head at you. He doesn’t know the real meaning to your words- or, at least, you don’t think he does.

I hope you don’t stay oblivious forever, Steve Harrington. I hope you get there, eventually.

You take your binder from him, but you pull your eyes away from his a bit later than you properly should. “Thanks, Steve.”

You get up and take off toward your next class, walking quickly so that you don’t come off like you’re lingering too long. But, halfway down the hall, you look over your shoulder at him.

Steve hasn’t moved, still crouched down close to the floor, with his head bent like he’s deep in thought. With his back to you, you can still see the pink flush on the back of his neck, peeking out above his collared shirt.

‘Cause I can see you, waiting down the hall from me, and I can see you up against the wall with me. What would you do? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you…

Hawkins High, April 1985

Prom season sucks. Always has, and always will.

Maybe it was your fault for hoping that Logan Sawyer, popular prick extraordinaire, was serious about wanting to take you to prom. He seemed serious enough, stopping by your locker during passing period and leaning over you as he asked you, his mega-watt smile making you blush. You’d counted yourself lucky- you didn’t think anyone was going to ask you, and people aren’t allowed to go to prom stag.

It took Logan two weeks to find a prettier girl to go with, though. You don’t know why it hurts so much. Maybe it’s because you wanted to believe that you were someone’s first choice, but it never quite seems to turn out that way.

You wipe your tears in the mirror, scowling at your puffy, bloodshot eyes. The bathroom next to the girls’ locker room in the sports wing is completely deserted at this time- the boys’ gym class is in session now, and you’re cutting into your lunch time, but you really don’t want to have to go and cry at a lunch table, in front of a bunch of your bitchy peers, who will inevitably make fun of you for it.

Sniffling, but slightly more composed, you head out of the bathroom. The sports wing is ridiculously bigger than any other wing of the school (typical of American public schools, to prioritize sports over every other department). The wing boasts weight training rooms, dance rooms, three separate gymnasiums, and a door directly to the football field, with the locker rooms on the farthest end to allow for easy access to the field. Connecting all of these rooms is the longest corridor in the building, which seems to run for half a fucking mile.

You’ll have to walk that half mile, because in order to get to the cafeteria, you’re gonna have to traverse the entire building. You might not get to eat much today, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. Maybe Mrs. Marshall will be kind enough to let you snack on a granola bar in your next class period.

Halfway down the long hallway, you feel the angry sting of tears behind your eyes again, and your face screws up in frustration. You stop, turning halfway back toward the girls’ bathroom, wondering if you should just go back in and allow yourself to cry some more.

Suck it up, you think to yourself, smacking at your tear stained cheeks. He’s not the guy you really want to ask you to prom, anyways.

You press your fingertips into your eyes to relieve the sting of tears, taking a deep breath. Being in high school is driving you crazy. At this point in the year, the teachers have given up teaching, the students have given up learning, and you’re basically just biding your time in a glorified babysitting service until you can inevitably grab your diploma and get out of here. You can’t wait for that time to arrive.

A door opens further down the hallway, in the direction of the cafeteria. You wipe your nose once and keep moving in the direction you were going, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, standing in the middle of the hallway having a breakdown.

Moving forwards, you keep your eyes on the ground. Once you hear the door that had been opened slam shut again, you figure that whoever it was has moved on down the hallway, and you lift your eyes again.

They have not, in fact, moved on. And you suddenly have the urge to turn and fucking run back into the girls’ bathroom, because Steve Harrington is bent over at the drinking fountain, directly outside the boys’ weight room.

What the fuck, what the fuck. You suck on your teeth, trying not to falter in your stride. Maybe he hasn’t seen you, and you can just pass him up. It’s fine, he hasn’t seen you crying.

Your mind backtracks to the beginning of the year, you fumbling your binder all the way across the hallway and ending up right in front of him, crawling toward him. Looking up at him and probably, most definitely, making him really uncomfortable.

You have English class together, where you sit at the desk closest to the door. He comes in late almost every day, so he passes by you every time. Some days he looks at your desk. On good days, he meets your eye. But he hasn’t spoken to you since that day in September, and you really shouldn’t hold out hope that he will.

You definitely don’t want him to notice you when you’ve been crying, your face is a mess, your hair is limp and you look bedraggled. You just want to fade into the background of your next class with whatever snack you can get from the cafeteria snuck into your bag, so you can stress eat it without any guff from a teacher (like you aren’t 18 and capable of deciding when you are and aren’t allowed to eat).

You keep your eyes down. If you don’t look at him, he doesn’t exist.

Except, Steve Harrington always exists, in the back of your mind, and in your periphery. He is impossible not to notice, as per usual. He really just draws the eye like a magnet. Try as you might, your eyes keep flicking up to take stock of him.

He’s wearing a uniform gray P.E. shirt and gym shorts that don’t leave a lot to the imagination, and you fixate on his thighs more than you should. He has sweat dripping down his neck, wetting his hair on the sides of his face and the seam of his shirt. It shouldn’t be attractive. He shouldn’t be attractive. With his face a mess. And his hair limp, and looking bedraggled. Truly, you make a priceless pair, being the only two people in the hallway.

We’re perfect for each other, a voice says in your head. And you manage, for the first time in an hour, to crack a smile down at your shoes.

He finishes getting his drink at the fountain, and you figure that he’ll just go back into the weight room and not see you. But, of course, luck is not on your side.

Steve Harrington looks at you. And you look away, quickly, acting like you hadn’t been staring at him. And in your periphery, again, you see him stretch his arms over his head, and then turn and lean against the cinderblock wall beside the door to the weight room, with his hands on his knees as though he’s catching his breath.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

He does it so casually, and with the way he’s sweating and his face is flushed, you’re sure that he probably does just want to take a break before going in and lifting more weights. But something in the back of your mind says that the maneuver was too purposeful, immediately after he laid eyes on you.

It could just be wishful thinking on your part. You heard through the grapevine that Steve and Nancy Wheeler broke up in a nasty way just before winter break, and it doesn’t seem like he’s been interested in anyone since. He hasn’t dated anyone, hasn’t flirted with any girls or showed up at any parties. Nancy must have really broken his heart.

You know too well what that feels like, right now.

Nearing where he leans against the wall, you keep your head down and you plan on just passing by without any acknowledgement from him, same as it ever was. If he’s still carrying a torch for Nancy, you’re sure that he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You’ve nearly convinced yourself of it.

But then you hear your name called quietly, and it nearly makes you jump. You look over at him, thinking you’re just hearing things, but you look directly into a pair of hazel eyes again, and you feel yourself rocketing back in time to September.

You didn’t even think he knew your name.

You slow to a stop. It would be rude not to stop, right? “Uh… hi, Steve. You good?”

Steve Harrington looks you up and down, while he leans against the wall and breathes a bit heavily, like he’s out of breath. He peers at you through long eyelashes, looking impossibly inviting despite everything; the setting, your appearances, the way that you feel like dissolving into a puddle right in front of him. “Yeah, great. You?”

He’s scrutinizing your face now. You shrug, since he’s already seen you, and there’s no way to pretend you weren’t crying thirty seconds ago. “I’m fine. Just being dramatic, don’t worry about me.”

“When people say not to worry about them, it usually means that you should,” Steve muses. He looks coy, like he’s speaking from experience.

You sigh, stepping forward to get your own drink from the drinking fountain. “Logan Sawyer called off our date for prom.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses for a few seconds, watching as you bend down and take your drink, more silent than he usually is. “I mean… that really sucks. I’m sorry. But… Logan Sawyer?”

“Yeah.” You wipe your mouth, and then wet the ends of your fingers and use the cool water to rub at your stinging eyes again. When you’re done, you lean up against the wall beside him, letting your back settle into the cinderblock.

“The guy’s a fucking douche.”

“Tell me about it.”

“No, I mean it, I think it’s a good thing you’re not going to prom with him. He’s really shitty to girls.” You look up at Steve, who’s watching you with his arms crossed, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him wear. “I mean, the only guy worse than Logan is probably… I dunno…”

“Billy Hargrove?”

Steve laughs. Actually laughs. You’ve wanted to make him laugh like that for four years. His cheeks turn crimson and he grins down at his shoes, snickering like there’s way more to the joke he’s laughing at than you even know about. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s gotta be the worst.”

You chuckle, albeit with a sadder tone than he has. “Well, I’m not going to prom with either of them. So, I can count my blessings. I guess.”

Steve frowns, and he looks like he’s going to say something else, but you’re already turning away, not wanting to continue the depressing conversation about your lack of dates. Especially not from the one guy who you desperately want to go on a date with.

You get a few steps away before he takes a step after you, saying, “Wait. You, uh-”

You stop, and look back at him. He looks dumbfounded, his arm outstretched like he was going to try to grab you if you didn’t listen to him. When you frown, he steps back against the wall, bringing his hand up to run through his hair.

Oh . That’s a nervous tick. You know it, because you’ve watched him do it more than once in English, in front of the class during a presentation.

Steve looks down at his shoes, his brow scrunched in thought. He looks like he’s really trying to find the right words to say. In your head, a hopeful part of you imagines what those words could be. ‘Will you go to prom with me?’

Finally, he looks up at you resolutely. “You’ll find someone to take you to prom. I’m sure of it.” He nods a little, like he’s reassuring himself that he said the right thing.

You can’t help the smile that springs onto your face. It’s incredulous, of course, but he can’t know that. Keep trying, baby. You’ll get there, eventually.

“Thanks, Steve.” It’s the second time you thank him in the course of the year.

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Prom Night, May 1985

The dress you’re wearing is sleek and a lot simpler than some of the more popular styles on the dance floor, but you like it more than you care to admit. You’d just grabbed it off the rack at Macy’s, and beyond that you didn’t want to go all-out for prom. It turns out that your lab partner, Gavin Connelly, needed a date, too. So, you’re here with him, because you knew that if you missed prom, you would probably regret it.

Except, well.

Gavin, stoned out of his fucking mind, is sitting at one of the tables, nursing a cup of punch, looking like he’s two seconds from falling asleep. You’ve taken to making the rounds and saying hi to anyone you can call a ‘friend,’ because you’re tired of just loitering next to him. Something tells you he didn’t want to even be here.

The speakers are playing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart,’ and couples are swaying on the dance floor in a Bonnie Tyler-induced haze. At a loss for people to bother, you wander back over to your date to find his head plastered to the white table cloth.

You glance to the guy sitting next to him, a kid with glasses who you don’t recognize but who seems to know your date, because he’s just patting Gavin’s back. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, no, he’s dying.” The kid shoots you a sarcastic smile.

You nod, pressing your tongue hard to the roof of your mouth. “Well, if he wakes up, tell him I’m getting some air.”

Fuck this. Fuck prom. Fuck high school boys.

Your heels, which are killing your feet already, click loudly on the tile hallway floor as you exit the gym. The table where you can check your bag and coat are located at the other end of the hall, where everyone is supposed to enter through the door to the football field.

You can hear voices from the far end of the hall, and Bonnie Tyler’s voice fading out the further you get from the gym. You might never be able to hear that song again without thinking of your ruined slow dance opportunity.

As you pass by, someone coughs off to the left and you turn your head to see Steve Harrington, black tie and all, loitering in the shadows. You stop a few feet from him and squint into the dark.

You can’t believe it. He always seems to show up at the worst times. “What are you doing, skulking around?”

“I’m not sulking.”

You snort, stepping into the shadows with him. “No, skulk- like, sneaking around?”

“Well, I didn’t mean to sneak-” he looks over his shoulder at the gym entrance. “I’m just getting some air.”

“Funny,” you murmur. “I was just about to do the same thing.”

He eyes you, a lot like he did a few weeks ago in this same hallway, further up toward the other end of it. He takes in your hair, styled painstakingly to ‘perfection,’ or as close as you could approximate it, and your off-the-rack department store dress. You suddenly feel like you aren’t as pretty as you thought you were at the beginning of the night.

But then he meets your eye, and all those insecurities fade into the back of your mind. He’s smiling at you, and that can only be a good thing.

“So, uh…” Steve leans back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, “You found someone to take you?”

You press your lips into a tight line. You don’t really want to think about your date right now, but- “Gavin Connelly.”

“Who?”

You laugh, kicking the heel of your shoe against the ground with a soft clack. “Yeah. God, I wish I didn’t know him right now.”

“Why, what’d he do?” Steve sounds perturbed. You look up to find him scowling already.

“Oh, he just ate a pot brownie before he picked me up and passed out at one of the tables.” You finish with a tired giggle, shrugging at Steve as he peers at you with an annoyed expression. “Who did you bring?”

“Kelly Palmer.”

You know Kelly. She doesn’t say much, but she’s gotten a scholarship to a big art school. “Do you like her?”

“Yeah, she’s nice,” he says mildly. Unconvincingly.

You can understand the subtext. She’s not Nancy. When you look at his face, he seems tortured in the low light coming from down the hall.

“Guess I’m oh-for-two,” Steve adds after a pause. “Last year’s prom, Nance and I didn’t have such a good time, either.”

You nod. It seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. “I’m sorry,” you offer. You don’t know the ins-and-outs of Steve and Nancy’s relationship, aside from watching them suck face in the hallway five paces from you for a year and a half. “Prom sucks. High school sucks. These can’t be the best years of our lives, trust me.”

“Yeah, I hope not.”

“I just can’t wait to get out of here, you know,” you grumble, allowing your sour mood to come out a little more than normal. It seems like Steve is just really good at getting you to let your guard down. “I’m planning to go to Chicago for college. This is all just… you know, it’s just the starting point. What about you, any big plans?”

“Dunno. I didn’t get accepted to any schools, so I’ll just be getting a job here in town until something better comes along.” Steve shifts, his heel hitting the wall behind him. He looks disappointed when he says, “I think I made too many mistakes.”

You frown, chewing on your lip. “What do you mean?”

He gives you a heavy look, like he’s gearing up to say something important, something game changing- and then his gaze softens.

“You’ve got an eyelash.” He gestures to his own eye, like it’ll make you understand exactly where the loose one is on your face.

“Oh.” You falter, lifting your manicured hands and wiping at your undereyes. “Did I get it?”

“No, uh- here, I can-” Steve tentatively reaches forward, and you step toward him to let him touch your face.

Steve Harrington is touching your face.

His fingertip brushes your cheekbone, so featherlight you would barely feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of everything that he said or did. His touch glides across your cheek and toward your temple, and then he seems to keep it there, his hand hovering just over your skin.

Reflexively, your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder. You’re inches from Steve’s face, your eyes falling to his lips.

You could kiss him. You could live your fantasy, right now.

Steve’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, and then he says, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. He doesn’t say that you look beautiful. He doesn’t say it conditionally, like it’s just for tonight. You are beautiful. Even when you’re crawling on all fours after your binder. Even when you’re crying, and your hair is limp, and you look bedraggled.

“Steve…” you whisper, inching closer to him.

“STEVE??!”

You jump away from him like he’s burned you, and peek around the hall corner to see Kelly Palmer standing outside the gym looking up and down the hall, searching for him. She looks lost, and sad, like he must have ditched.

She looks an awful lot like you just did, coming out of that gym.

You feel Steve’s hand where it had fallen to your wrist, dragging your attention gently back to him. You take his hand and squeeze it once, giving him a tight smile.

“You brought her here for a good time,” you say with your bravest smile. “Just don’t pass out at one of the tables on her, okay?”

Don’t be a douche. Don’t be like Logan Sawyer.

Steve swallows, and gives you a short nod. You think he finally got there.

You give a soft pat to the lapel of his suit jacket. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

He touches your arm one final time before he slips around the corner, just as Kelly turns to go back into the gym. You watch him walk away, and you think to yourself, That’s the last time I chase after Steve Harrington.

Wherever there is, it’s not with you.

Steve loops his arms around Kelly’s waist and lifts her, earning a thrilled squeal as the silver taffeta of her dress glints blue in the light from the gym. You wait until they’ve disappeared back into it before you turn and high-tail it toward the coat check table.

And we kept everything professional, but something’s changed, it’s something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it’s best if we move fast and keep quiet…

Starcourt Mall, June 1985

“Come on, it’s ridiculously hot outside,” your best friend, Shelly, groans as she pulls you along by the wrist. “I can’t believe they only have one ice cream place here.”

“I’m sure they have slushies at the-”

“Ice. Cream.” You know better than to argue with her.

Scoops Ahoy has a novelty nautical theme that makes you want to both laugh and break down in tears when you see it. The PA is playing a cutesy rendition of Drunken Sailor on accordion, and you think that if you keep looking at the striped wallpaper behind the counter, you might get literally seasick. In the mall. In landlocked Indiana.

Or… is it landlocked if it fronts Lake Michigan? It doesn’t matter. You’ll be in Chicago in two days, anyways.

You let Shelly drag you along until you look towards the front counter, and you see something that nearly makes you trip and face plant into Shelly’s fresh perm.

Even Shelly pauses. “Is that who I think it is?”

It’s something about the stupid little sailor’s cap and shorts, and that he’s so, so pretty in it, you think. It’s also something about how you have the perfect vantage point to watch him try and fail to flirt with the girl that approaches the counter to order. You’re enamored with him. There’s no other way to describe it.

You have half a mind to run away, after what you promised yourself on prom night over a month ago. You’d done good, you didn’t search for him in the halls, you ignored him in your last couple of class periods with him. You’d even been in the bathroom when his name was called at graduation.

But, here he is. Steve Harrington, absolutely obliterating his chances of getting a date with the girl ordering a sundae ahead of you.

Honestly, you don’t know what you’re waiting for. Maybe an invitation? A sign from god that today’s the day that you’ll make a move? Or maybe this is just a test of will.

You stop resisting Shelly’s attempts to drag you along, and straighten your spine. You can do this. Four years’ worth of pining won’t make a difference in whether or not you order a strawberry ice cream cone.

He’s even prettier up close, his rosy cheeks framed by sunkissed, wavy hair. When he sees you he stalls, going a bit wide-eyed and then seeming to realize he’s supposed to do his job. He leans heavily against the counter. “Ahoy, ladies! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, Steve Harrington.”

“Uh-huh.” You stare at each other for a long moment. “How much do they pay you to recite that script?”

“Absolutely nothing, I do this for pure enjoyment.” You’re almost sure that he doesn’t. He pauses, a hand poised on his hip. “Too much?”

“I’d dial it back just a smidge. Maybe keep the ahoy and the captain thing and toss the rest.”

“Noted.” He nods slowly, his eyes fixed on you. “I thought you were going to Chicago?”

“I leave the day after tomorrow,” you shrug. “Still time for me to burn the place down, you know.”

“Well, I’m glad you stopped by,” Steve chuckles. “I could show you where the gas line is, then we’d all be in trouble.”

“Oookay.” Shelly gives you a curious side-eye, and then turns back to Steve. “Well, I’ll have a U.S.S. Butterscotch with a chocolate dipped waffle bowl, if you don’t mind.”

Steve tears his eyes away from you long enough to grin at Shelly. “Coming right up. And for you?”

You freeze, glancing up at the menu. It’s written in an infuriatingly cutesy code-language that you have to decipher. “Um. I’m still deciding.”

“All right, then. Just let me know, when you’re ready.”

Steve slips away to make Shelly her sundae, a heaping pile of ice cream and butterscotch syrup that looks like the fast track to a heart attack. You alternate between trying to comprehend the menu and being distracted by Steve in that stupid sailor’s uniform.

The script on the menu may as well be written in a foreign language. Blackbeard’s Delight. Treasure Island Turtle. U.S.S. Sherbet. The sizes are even harder to understand. Fathom. League. Nautical Mile. You don’t have the capacity to decipher it- your eyes are seeing the words, but your mind is traveling back to prom night, and feeling Steve’s finger on your cheek as you gear up to kiss him.

“Are you ready?”

“Mhm…” It takes you a second to zone back into the present moment, where Steve is standing in front of you, on the other side of the counter, waiting to take your order. He waits, with a patient smile on his face, while you blink dumbly at him.

What did you say? What did he say?

“I… um.” You’re sure you look completely out of it. Your eyes flick nervously up at the menu, that you still can’t fucking read. Shelly’s already gone to sit down with her sundae, the traitor.

“It’s kind of hard to understand, isn’t it?” Steve says quietly after a moment, dropping the phony customer service charade. “I hate it. I think we should just be able to say what our favorite ice cream flavor is and be done with it.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still squinting up at the menu. Blackbeard’s Delight: blackberry swirl with blueberry syrup and a gold doubloon. “The fuck is a doubloon?”

Steve snorts, and reaches under the counter before bringing back a handful of gold foil-covered chocolate coins, which he dumps into your outstretched hand. “You want more? We get them wholesale.”

“I’m good,” you giggle, juggling the chocolate coins before they go cascading to the floor. “I think… I don’t… I don’t understand a thing on that menu.”

“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” He leans forward to ask you, like it's a secret. Just between the two of you. His head bent a little to peer at you closely, so close that you can count the freckles on his skin.

You glance over your shoulder. Shelly is seated by the far wall, under a painting of a kraken, giving you an indignant look. When she notices you looking, she mouths an emphatic, ‘LET’S GO!’

“Don’t tell anyone,” you whisper, and Steve affects his gravest expression as he nods. “Strawberry.”

“A classic,” he grins. “Fan of sprinkles?”

“I can dig a few sprinkles.”

“Perfect. I think we have something up your alley.” He grabs a scooper out of the bin and twirls it once, just to show off. “Sex on the Beach.”

“What?” You don’t remember seeing anything about that on the menu.

He glances up to smirk at you before shrugging. “It’s strawberry ice cream with peach syrup. You’ll see.”

You keep an eye on his hands behind the glass partition, watching them put two scoops of strawberry into a medium sized carton. Completely unable to rein in your thoughts before they get away from you, you’re thinking about how good they would feel under your shirt. You follow a treasure map of freckles trailing up his arms, disappearing under the blue sailor’s shirt he wears. You want to kiss every single one of them.

You finally reply, “I guess I have to put my faith in your professional ice cream slinging abilities.”

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Steve mutters sardonically as he squirts peach syrup across the two scoops of ice cream, giving it a golden sheen. “I’m the king of cream.”

You purse your lips as it takes Steve a second to realize what he just said. When he does, he snaps his head up to meet your eye in horror.

He opens his mouth to take it back, but you shake your head, holding back laughter. “Don’t ruin it.”

“I think it’s pretty much ruined already.” He turns crimson, blushing down at the half-made sundae as he rapidly shakes yellow sprinkles onto it. “I was doing so good, too.”

“Who says you aren’t still?” You give him a cute smile when he looks up through his lashes at you, still arranging toppings on the sundae. You’re not sure what happened between prom and now to change him so much, but it’s almost as if he’s… goofy. He’s less concerned with appearances, he’s more laid back and willing to make fun of himself.

You like it a lot.

You watch him plop two maraschinos onto one ice cream mound, and wedge a candied orange slice into the other, inverted, to look like a setting sun. As he passes it over the counter to you, he says, “Here you go, one Sex on the Beach. On the house.”

“What? No, I couldn’t-”

“I mean it. For overlooking my stupidity,” Steve insists. He gives you a meaningful look when he adds, “A million times over.”

“I’m not overlooking anything when it comes to you, Steve,” you tell him fondly, and drop one of the doubloons into the tip jar. It’s gaudy, gleaming artificially gold in the middle of the crumpled up dollar bills. “Hang onto that. You might be able to cash it in for a kiss someday.”

Steve blinks rapidly, leaning across the counter as you walk away. “After you come back from Chicago, right?”

You look over your shoulder, and you wink at him.

When you finally stop in front of Shelly, and you use your plastic spoon to dig into the adorable sundae that Steve crafted for you, you remember that you’d gone up to the counter with every intention of ignoring Steve and acting like you didn’t even know him.

You winked at Steve Harrington. You said you’d kiss him. You think back to the girl who was so afraid of Steve even noticing her, almost a year ago, and wonder where she went.

You look down at Shelly. She’d graduated a year before you, so she wasn’t there to witness every blunderous interaction you’d had with Steve in school. You never told her how in love you were with him.

Now, she looks up at you coyly. “So. Steve Harrington, huh?”

“Shut up,” you grunt, looking up and out at the food court outside of the Scoops Ahoy storefront. “As if you know everything.”

“Are you gonna try to make something out of that…” she gestures vaguely with her spoon toward the counter, “before school starts?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say honestly, still poking at your sundae. “Anyways, I leave too soon for anything to really happen. What- I screw him tomorrow and then fuck off forever? It’s just wishful thinking, probably.” You finally take a bite of the ice cream, just to punctuate your sentence.

“Hm. Probably. How is that?” Shelly nods at the ice cream in your hand. “Looks pretty.”

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re being honest. Something about the peach syrup with the strawberry base literally evokes the flavor of a sunset. “They should give him a raise.”

Humming, Shelly stands and takes her half-eaten sundae. She nudges you in the direction of the door. “C’mon. We’ve gotta eat these before the next showing of The Breakfast Club.”

Steve watches you and your friend leave, with the wistful gaze of someone who just watched their greatest opportunity walk away from them. He never knew that it was possible to hate an entire geographic location, but he really wishes Chicago would get blown off the map in the next 24 hours.

The wooden partition doors slam open, and Robin’s head appears in the window to the kitchen. “The cream king? Do you want me to actually hurl?”

“I said, ‘the king of cream,’” he groans, digging his knuckles into his eye sockets. “Kill me, Robin. Load me into the freezer. Bury me at the fairground.”

“You think you’re valuable enough to displace that much ice cream?” Robin rolls her eyes, and with another loud thwack, her white board appears in the space behind her. “We don’t make anything called Sex on the Beach. This is a family establishment.”

“I made it up.”

Robin coos, “Aww. Be still my heart. You love her to the point of invention.”

Steve whirls around. “Love? Who said anything about love?”

“I did.” Robin uncaps her dry-erase marker and draws a tally mark under the side that reads, you rule.

“Uh, Robin,” Steve snaps, pointing at the board condescendingly. “I think you put that on the wrong side. I fucked it up.”

“Dingus. Please. As much as it makes me gag- and you know I gain immense pleasure from counting how often you screw up- I could practically hear her heart eyes.” She sets the white board down, begrudgingly. “I think you found the only girl alive who’ll find all this-” she waves her hand at him, “endearing. Who was she? Some ex of yours?”

“If only,” Steve sighs, shaking his head. When he turns back to the counter, his eyes land on the single chocolate coin glinting in the tip jar.

He scoops it up with two fingers and pockets it.

You won’t believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait ‘til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet…

Family Video, March 1986

The air conditioning nearly blasts you backwards into the parking lot. You don’t know why they need it blasting so hard at 7pm, in the middle of March. It’s not like it’s the height of summer- your spring break takes place earlier than the local school’s, but it just means that you get to beat the crowds when you come home to visit your family.

Of course, they love to send you to run errands. You end up picking up the groceries, and the housewares, and, on this occasion, the choices for family movie night.

This Family Video’s selection isn’t necessarily as extensive as the ones in Chicago, but it’s good enough. You enter the store, and it dumps you directly in front of a cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates about to flash you. Family friendly entertainment, and all.

The TV in the corner is running the final scene of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly- Ennio Morricone’s score plays dramatically into the empty store. There’s no one behind the counter currently, so you pull the list of videos your extended family members had all requested. The Breakfast Club. Camelot. The Birds. Pretty general selections for your family, but it seems like you’ll have to hunt them up on your own.

You’re wandering down the romance aisle, since The Breakfast Club was nowhere on the new releases or comedy shelves, when someone finally emerges from the back room. You see a flash of a head moving toward the front counter from over the top of a rack, and you take it as your chance to ask for help.

“Excuse me? Do you guys have any copies of The Breakfast Club, or-”

You stop short, choking on your words. Steve Harrington turns around to look at you, carrying a stack of VHS tapes perched under his chin, and holding a folded up piece of paper between his teeth.

You stare each other down for a second, before Steve gracefully spits the paper over his shoulder and onto the counter. “Hey, um… long time, no see?”

“I’d say.” You tilt your head. Funny how quickly your eyes will hone in on his lips, like searching for a target every time. “We always seem to run into each other like this. What happened to the ice cream gig?”

“Starcourt burned down,” Steve says, plopping the stack of VHS tapes down on the counter beside the paper he spit out. “Right around the Fourth of July, last summer.”

“So, right after I last saw you?”

Steve smirks to himself before he turns back to you. “Yeah. Like, a week or so after. Did you manage to burn the place down, after all?”

“I wish.”

You pause, taking the time to size him up. It’s amazing what the better part of a year will do to someone, inside and out. With a striped shirt and green vest, he looks much more relaxed and casual than he had at Scoops Ahoy. His hair’s a little longer, his eyes a little darker as they rake over you, in return.

You’re a little bit desperate to see what’s going on in his head, if it’s anything like what’s happening in yours.

You wish you could say that you tried to seek him out when you got back to town- a year ago, maybe you would have. But you’d pretty much given up on the idea of him, moving up to dating college boys who don’t string you along, who don’t wait until the last minute to finally try their hand at flirting with you. If he ever passed through your mind, it was with the attached hope that he’d found greener pastures than Hawkins, Indiana. Foolishly, you hoped that as long as you told yourself that he’d moved on, it would be true. And then maybe what could have been wouldn’t matter anymore.

You’d stepped back into Hawkins after half a year of college, the graveyard of all hope in your happily ever after, and you hadn’t even thought of Steve Harrington. Except, seeing him now, everything comes flooding back. All the days spent pining over him. All the close brushes you’d had with finally getting the ending you wanted.

You have to be honest. “You look good, Steve. You always do.”

Steve chuckles, tilting his chin down as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his light wash jeans. “Better without the sailor costume, right?”

“Aww, I liked the sailor costume.” You step closer so you can whisper, “I thought it was sexy.”

Steve peers down his nose at you, drawing himself up to tower above you at his full height. He tries to look unaffected, but you can see his ears glowing pink beneath wisps of golden highlights. “Watch it. You’re gonna give me an ego.”

“We don’t want that, do we?” You unfold the list of movies you’re here to collect, holding it up to him between two fingers. “Got any of these movies?”

Steve reads the short list, and nods to himself. “I know we have Camelot, but I’m not sure about The Breakfast Club. Let me check in the back?”

“I’ll be here.”

“All right- don’t get up to any trouble, though. I’ve got my eye on you.” He points at you coolly, feigning an authoritative expression. He tries to hide his smile, but the creases around his eyes give him away.

“I hope you do.” You try to appear casual as you breeze past him, but you have to fiddle with your jacket collar to hide their shaking. Still, you feel the sweep of his gaze on you like rays of sun on your skin. It frightens you how easily you can fall back into the old back-and-forth routine you established in high school- how he gets you to say things you never meant to voice, but that live in your head effortlessly.

Steve watches you disappear down the drama aisle before he takes in a huge breath of air and bolts toward the back room. Any and all coolness he was performing disappears like so much smoke. Slamming open the door, he nearly shouts, “Do you have a doubloon?!”

Robin startles, swinging around in her seat, looking away from her computer screen. “A what? Why are you yelling?”

“A doubloon, a f-fucking-” Steve looks quickly over his shoulder, out the door, and starts hunching over as he whispers, “a chocolate coin. Like one of those ones we had at Scoops, remember?”

“Why do you want a chocolate coin?” Robin squints at him. “Stop crouching like that, you look like Nosferatu.”

Steve hisses through his teeth, and he’s got a frantic edge to his expression that Robin doesn’t like. “Okay- remember that girl, the one who showed up at Scoops that time, and you gave me my one and only ‘You Rule’ tally?”

“No.”

“Great. Well, she’s here, and she told me if I gave her one of those chocolate coins she’d kiss me.” Steve shoves his hands through his hair, mussing up the already disheveled style. “Please, Rob, I can’t let her get away again. I’ve done it, like, a thousand times already.”

“Okay, Romeo,” Robin humors him, turning around in her seat. “So you’re saying this babe, who I very much don’t remember because you always struck out while we worked at Scoops, told you that if you bribed her with chocolate she’d kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t think she was maybe joking?”

Steve opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. Truthfully, he hadn’t. He’d overlooked the idea that, after everything that had happened between you, you might just be joking about kissing him.

“You know you could use your actual charm to get a girl to kiss you?” Robin dips her chin, shaking her head like it’s obvious.

Steve frowns. As if he hasn’t already tried that. “Do you have any chocolate coins or not?”

Robin sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of those things since we worked at Scoops. Sorry, bud. You’re out of luck.”

“FUCK!” Steve’s hand smacks the door as he heads out of the back room, making Robin scowl after him. She shakes her head as she turns back to her work.

Back out on the sales floor, the credits to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly have finished, and white noise fills the empty space. Steve turns in a circle by the checkout counter, searching for you among the aisles.

Where did you disappear to, this time? A part of him dreads the answer. He was the one who fucked everything up- he shouldn’t have chickened out when he had the chance. He should have asked you to that fucking prom, but he was too scared to commit after what happened with Nancy.

If this is his last chance, he needs to make it count.

He coughs into the dead air, and says, “Looks like we’re all out of The Breakfast Club.” There’s a disconcerting amount of silence that leaves him cold, almost certain that you’ve left already, for the last time.

Then, you appear from behind the red curtain to the adult videos section.

Oh.

“Everything okay?” you ask sweetly as you approach, holding a couple tapes that you must have picked up while you shopped around. “I heard some yelling back there.”

“Oh, yeah. Just, uh… shelving issues.” Steve backs his way behind the counter. He repeats, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the movie for you.”

“I heard. I’m not worried about it.” You plop the tapes that you did find on the counter. “It was nice of you to look for me. Thanks, Steve.”

“Always.” Steve starts scanning your tapes; it looks like you managed to find the other films on your list, along with one for yourself. From the adult section.

You watch in amusement as you can see the cogs visibly turning in Steve’s head, while he stares at the front of the porn video you picked. Spring Break Sex Party II. Not that you’d ever seen the first one, but the cover of this one was suggestive enough- a bunch of drunk people naked on a beach, lying in a great big pile. Looks like fun, in your opinion.

You always love seeing Steve blush. The prettiest shade of pink colors his cheeks before he glances up at you. “Should I ask…?”

“It’s the closest thing to getting a Sex on the Beach, here.”

Steve chokes, and he scrambles for a response to that. “I- I was gonna ask for an I.D.”

“You know we’re the same age,” you deadpan.

“Y-yeah. I, uh- I know… I know that.” He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut.

You wonder if this is what you looked like to him, that time in the hallway when he loitered by the fountain to talk to you. “Breathe, Steve.”

A blast of laughter leaves his mouth before he can swallow it. If only you knew how hard it actually is, to act like he’s not just fucking melting right in front of you. When he hangs on every word you say, and every other thought he has is about how badly he wants to tell Robin to get lost and take you in the back room. You don’t know how much he’s fixating on your curves and how they’d feel against him, how much he wants to taste every inch of your body. He’s practically vibrating in place with all his pent up frustration, and you’re here buying porn, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Steve clears his throat, shakes his head. Christ. “Okay, well. You know that this is a sale item, it’s not for rent. You can return it within 10 days as long as the packaging hasn’t been opened.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” He’s still nodding as he puts it into the bag with the rest of your rentals.

“Are you always this affected by people buying from the adult section?” you ask mildly.

“Nah, usually I don’t care,” he replies without thinking.

“Good to know that you care about my taste in pornography,” you tell him with the most shit eating grin on your face, taking the bag from him. “I’m flattered.”

He makes a clumsy noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. He’s right back to working at Scoops Ahoy, fumbling every attempt at flirting, losing his cool at the sight of a pretty girl. It’s… humbling.

He’s sure Robin would say that he can always use more humility.

“It was good to see you again, Steve.” And just like that, you’re sand slipping through the cracks in his fingers.

Desperately, he tries to block the flow, closing his fingers around you in an attempt to keep you in his grasp. “Do you- uh-” He lurches forward, white-knuckling the counter like his life depends on it. You turn back towards him, an eyebrow raised at his sudden outburst.

You’re back in the school hallway, senior year. Crying over Logan Sawyer. Harrington is up against the wall by the drinking fountain. You want him to just say the words and ask you to prom.

“I mean… if you have the time, while you’re in town… do you want to go for a cup of coffee? With me?”

“Oh, Steve.” You sigh, and it’s the most heartbreaking noise he’s ever heard in his life. Soft sand, falling through his fingers, disappearing back the way you came. He already dreads your answer before it comes. “I wish… you know, if I had come in here and met you about a week ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. But I have to catch the train back to Chicago tomorrow. My break’s almost up.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad that you didn’t completely miss me, at least.”

“Right, of course.” Steve smiles back at you, feeling more like an idiot the longer this drags on. He’s like Sisyphus rolling that rock up the fucking hill. “I… I’m glad I got to see you, too. Maybe next time.”

Oh, it hurts. It hurts way more than you thought it would, to have to turn Steve down- after all the years pining for him through high school, after the time you turned him away when he would have kissed you. You think about kissing him, now. He would let you do it- he’s asking you out, and he looks so sad that you’re saying no.

You could. But wouldn’t it make saying goodbye this time even harder than it already is?

“Yeah. Maybe next time,” you tell him. You don’t want this to hurt more than it does. You truly hope there’s a next time, another year down the line when you run into him over winter break. Maybe you’ll find him at the Radio Shack.

Steve watches you leave, once again. Fumbling his chance, again. When the door swings shut behind you, Steve bends at the waist and drops his head against the countertop.

Typical Harrington. Late to the party, miss the girl.

“Well. That was… really painful to listen to.” Robin emerges from behind one of the shelves, crossing her arms. Gently, she adds, “On the bright side, I don’t think the chocolate coin would have mattered.”

Steve picks his head up, and he thwacks his forehead back down onto the counter.

And again.

And I can see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission. Hide away, and I will start behaving myself…

Sur La Table Restaurant, Chicago, April 1991

You shake your umbrella out as you step into the warm foyer of, quite possibly, the most upscale restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. The carpet is deep, blood red, the walls a dark chestnut wood. The white covered tables are each spotlit within the otherwise dark dining room, and the atmosphere is flavored by soft piano and the quiet din of hushed voices.

You had been hesitant to accept Theo’s invitation to dinner- he seemed too stuck up for your taste, but when Shelly introduced you to him, you had to admit that the name of the restaurant piqued your interest. Sur La Table. Chicago’s premiere Michelin Star restaurant.

As you hand your umbrella over to the coat check clerk, you’re greeted by a smiling hostess. “What’s the name for the reservation?”

“Um… Theo Bowman. I believe he’s already here?”

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.”

Theo stands as you’re shown to the table. Tall, with dark hair and a wide smile, he reminds you of someone you knew once, but you just can’t seem to place it. Then, when he towers over you to shake your hand, standing far closer than necessary, you’re able to pick it out from the recesses of your mind.

Logan Sawyer.

“You look nice,” Theo says pleasantly, and you chalk up your initial comparison to nerves, on your part. You don’t often let friends set you up on dates, so you’re a little bit out of your element as it is.

As you go to sit down, you admit, “I was so glad when you picked this place, I’ve always wanted to eat here, since I moved to Chicago.”

“It’s not the nicest place I’ve been,” Theo shrugs, taking the seat across from you.

Your smile falters, for a second. “Oh, no?” The water has already been brought to the table, you guess while he was waiting for you. You take a long drink.

“Nah, I’ve been to Le Bernardin, in New York. That’s fine dining.” Theo waves his hand at the upscale dining room. “This is… okay.”

“I see.” You lift your menu, hoping that he’ll do the same.

“Yeah, New York is so much nicer than Chicago, in my opinion,” Theo continues, fiddling with his napkin as he talks. “There’s a lot more to do. Have you ever been?”

You hope this is just his nerves talking. “No.”

Theo keeps talking as you stare at the menu in front of you, at a loss. It’s an a la carte menu, clearly, but extensive and all in french. Salade de poires pochées. Coquilles Saint-Jacques Gratineés. Filet au poivre vert. You’re scrutinizing the fine print of what all the dishes include when your waiter steps up to the table. You know when it happens, because Theo finally stops blathering about New York.

You break your eyes away from the menu to glance at the server’s waistline, at eye level with you. He wears a crisply pressed suit and tie, his hands clasped in front of his belt.

“Good evening sir, ma’am,” the server says in a hushed tone, to keep the volume of the dining room down. “Welcome to Sur La Table. I’m Steven, I’ll be serving you this evening. Before we begin, are there any questions about the menu?”

You peer up into the darkness to try to see Steven’s face. He’s standing just outside of the spotlight over the table, only able to be dimly lit from the indirect light reflecting from the tablecloth. Once your eyes adjust, they lock onto a pair of familiar hazel ones.

Oh my fucking god.

It’s got to be fate, or kismet, or some force of nature that keeps bringing you together like this. Steve Harrington’s face hasn’t changed in five years. Maybe he looks just slightly older, a little more filled out in his suit and tie. His hair is a bit shorter at the back but still that same shade of golden brown, neatly groomed and tidy for the formal atmosphere- but you can see it being tousled on his off days, still flopping across his eyes in waves. And those are the same lips you dreamt about kissing, the same eyes you admired in the school hallway, the same nose that you always wanted to grind o-

“No, I think we’re ready to order,” Theo announces, louder than necessary. You throw your gaze at him, your eyebrows raising despite your best efforts to remain calm.

Is he really going to order for you? Just like that?

“Well, I was going to ask-” you begin, wanting to get a little more specification on how the filet is made, when Theo cuts you off.

“It’s okay, I speak French,” he insists. Not that it makes a difference to what your question was.

You press your lips together in irritation and glance at Steve, who looks back at you stoically. You wonder if he recognizes you like you do him- it’s been long enough, and you’re sure that you look a bit different than you did the last time you saw him. And then you notice the creases around his eyes.

He’s playing it off well enough, sure. But Steve is doing that same look that he did there in the Family Video five years ago, trying to pretend that he’s not affected by you, swallowing back his smile. He sends you a knowing look that says, What a fucking douchebag, am I right?

Suddenly, this date just got way more entertaining. You give Steve a minute roll of your eyes, only enough for him to notice. Tell me about it.

“We’ll start with the Bordeaux,” Theo is already reciting to Steve as you settle back in your seat. Steve pulls a little notepad out of his jacket pocket and begins writing. “For an appetizer, the coquilles. Then for the main, I’ll have the canard montmorency, and she’ll have the mignons de veau.”

You watch Steve’s hand pause as he’s writing, and he looks to you. He raises his eyebrow, saying everything he needs to with the one gesture. Is that what you really want? “The veal?”

“No,” you say, digging your thumbnail into your palm, where it rests on your lap. “Actually, I wanted to ask about the filet. What brandy is the sauce made with?”

Steve smiles, leaning a little bit closer to you. “We use Courvoisier.”

“Great. I’ll have that, please.”

Steve nods encouragingly at you. As he jots down the order, he says, “Wonderful. I’ll get this to the kitchen for you, but before I can bring you the wine, I’ll just need to see the lady’s I.D.”

“Are you serious?” Theo snaps.

“It’s all right,” you murmur, hiding your face as you dip your head to fish your I.D. out of your clutch. “He’s just doing his job. Right, Steven?”

Steve meets your eye as he takes the card from your hand. “You can never be too careful.” You watch him smirk as he looks over your I.D., his eyes lingering on your name for a second before he hands it back to you. If there was any doubt in his mind that you are who he thought, it’s gone now. “Interesting. We’re the same age.”

You laugh. Probably a little louder than is respectable, but you can’t help it. Leave it to Steve Harrington to remind you of the time you bought porn from him, while you’re on a date.

You watch Steve write something else on his notepad, and rip the page out before folding it up. He tucks his notepad into his pocket as he says, “I’ll get this started for you. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Steven,” you offer just as he starts to walk away.

Steve shoots you a sideways glance. “Always.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your chest as you turn back to your date. Theo looks disgruntled, but he just lifts his water to his lips.

“So,” you begin, “what do you do?”

“Marketing manager,” Theo says, with a click of his tongue. “For Bowman Wine & Spirits.”

“Oh,” you nod. “No relation, I suppose?”

“My father owns the company.”

“Right.” God, help me.

Across the dining room, Steve watches you over his shoulder. His jaw sets as he sees you, the girl of his literal dreams, sitting across from some idiot who doesn’t even know that you don’t order for your date without asking her what she wants first, you fucking weasel.

That’s all right. You seem to have the situation under control, for now. Steve watches you calmly sip your water, staring at your date but not listening to a thing he’s saying.

Steve sighs. He’s never been much of a schemer, but he’ll just make sure that you won’t leave with this guy if you don’t want to.

His fingers brush the note in his pocket, and he pinches it just as he passes the front of house manager, Taryn. Without breaking stride, he slips the note into her hand, heading toward the back hallway and down to the wine cellar.

As Steve passes by, Taryn unfolds the note he slips her, and raises one eyebrow at the request he’s written.

I can see you in your suit and your necktie, pass me a note saying, “Meet me tonight.” Then we kissed and you know I won’t ever tell…

Overall, you enjoy Sur La Table immensely. The restaurant itself, anyways. The wine is wonderful. The atmosphere is great. The food is exquisite.

You’re about to jump the waiter’s bones.

Theo got his second wind sometime after the scallops arrived, and you think he hasn’t paused for breath since. You’ve been calmly eating your food, while Theo tells you literally everything about himself. It’s the best case scenario you can see happening on this date. You enjoy the food, mumble a non-committal acknowledgement now and then, and Theo entertains himself with his own voice the rest of the time.

You’re gonna kill Shelly for setting you up with him, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.

Right now, you’re focused on finishing your glass of wine while he talks about camping, of all things.

“So we got up into the Rockies,” he’s telling you, gesturing with his hands like it’ll make you more engaged. “We ended up freezing our keisters off. No joke, I have frostbite scars.”

“That’s, um… that sounds like fun.”

“No, are you listening? I mean, it was terrible. We couldn’t move for, like, two days. And when the snow stopped we were so tired and cold, we almost died.”

You knock back the rest of your wine with one gulp, and say with a sticky voice, “Wow. A near death experience must have been really scary, I’m sorry.”

Theo frowns. “No- I mean… It wasn’t… it wasn’t near death-”

“You just said-”

“It was more like a serious inconvenience, you know. But we pulled through. I wasn’t scared. A little snow isn’t gonna kill me,” he laughs incredulously. “It was just-”

Theo stops as Steve approaches the table. You catch him giving the back of Theo’s head the most murderous look imaginable before slowing to a stop and plastering an easy customer service smile in its place. “How did you find everything this evening?”

“It was fine.”

“The food was wonderful,” you tell Steve reassuringly. Your date, on the other hand…

“Yeeeah, could we get the check, please?” Theo asks, finally looking up at Steve.

You watch Steve’s brow twitch, such a small movement you could have imagined it. “Certainly. But first-” from behind his back, he reveals two white gift boxes and places them on the table in front of you and your date, respectively. “We like to give each of our customers a signature chocolate truffle, as a token of our appreciation.”

Everything in you aches. “Oh, that’s nice. Thank you so much.” You look down at the box in adoration, thinking for a second that it might be the only time in your life that Steve Harrington gives you something similar to a ring box.

“I’ll be sure to have our hostess come through with the check,” Steve adds delicately, making a gracious exit. His finger just slightly brushes your arm as he passes by- a dangerous move, but one that nearly electrifies your entire body at the single touch. You shiver as he says, “Have a lovely night.”

You watch Steve walk away from you, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You want to chase after him. The 18 year old you, who almost kissed him on prom night, is trying to claw its way out of your skin and bolt after him.

When Steve disappears from view, you have nowhere to look but at your date. Theo opens the white box in front of him and pops a neapolitan colored truffle into his mouth. “Well, that was underwhelming.”

You don’t want to watch him chewing anymore, like a cow gnawing on grass. You sigh, running a frustrated hand across your forehead, and flip open the box in front of you. The top of it rears up like a clam shell, and you freeze, your fingertips suddenly sticking to the sweat beading on your brow.

You don’t have a neapolitan truffle- you have a single golden chocolate coin. You stare at it in shock for a second before you even notice the note pasted to the lid of the box.

Meet me outside- the door past the bathrooms.

“Aren’t you gonna eat yours?” Theo asks suddenly, as the hostess approaches holding the check.

Your eyes snap up just as your heart shoots back up into your chest. “I think I’m gonna save it for later.” You flash him a smile as you close the box swiftly and shove it into your clutch. “Do you mind if I hit the bathroom real quick?”

“No, go ahead. I’ve got it.” Honestly, it’s the kindest thing he’s done for you all night. You might have to thank him some day.

Once you’re out of your seat, you chase after Steve like a shot. Around a block of tables and into a tiled corridor, you walk past the kitchen doorway just as another server comes backing out, carrying a tray of dishes.

There’s a door at the end of the hall, labeled exit. You never actually thought you’d be escaping a bad date through the back door; the notion was too clichéed, you thought that sort of thing only happened in movies. But you find yourself nearly running past the men’s and women’s bathrooms, until your hands slam down on the bar of the back door and thrust it open into the wind.

The rain has picked up, more of a downpour than a light drizzle now. In your haste, you’d left your umbrella and coat with the coat check. Not that it would have been at all discrete if you’d gone to collect it before running towards the bathrooms.

The door clicks shut behind you, and you gaze around in the dark. The alley behind the restaurant is only partially lit by a yellow street lamp, making it even more difficult to find him than it was in the dining room. “Steve?”

You catch movement in the corner of your eye, and turn in the direction of the street lamp. Steve stands up from where he’d been sitting on an overturned crate- apparently the only accommodations the restaurant staff gets during a smoke break. The rain has already soaked into his hair, messing up the tidy style and turning it stringy, falling across his forehead, shining gold in the yellow light. He takes one last puff of the cigarette in his mouth before tossing it into the gutter, and he looks at you.

He sees you. And it’s all you’ve wanted since the day he first walked into your geography class, freshman year of high school. There’s been some kind of a magnetic pull between you two for years. Something keeps bringing you together, it’s just never been the right time. Until now.

Finally, you’re running towards him, and Steve’s arms finally come around you, pulling you against his body. Your hands find the back of his neck just in time for his lips to crash against yours.

You had lost count of the amount of times you watched him kiss other girls in the hallway in high school- not just Nancy, but any and every girl he attached himself to (for a while, it seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind who he was dating at any given moment). All you knew was that it was never you, and you wanted it to be so desperately that it consumed your mind half the time. He looked like a good kisser, and you fantasized about going up to him and testing that theory for yourself.

But you never expected that his lips would slide over yours with an urgency that you could feel through to your very core, probably even more desperate for your kiss than you are for his. Steve’s fingertips press into your body through the thin fabric of your dress, holding you firmly to him like he’s afraid you might disappear on him again if he doesn’t absorb you completely. Your mouth opens with a soft gasp, and Steve’s tongue against yours tastes like tobacco.

It happens so fast that you can’t even think- and you don’t really want to. You’re tired of thinking everything through, finding reasons upon reasons why it’s not a good time, why it’s a bad idea, why it won’t work. He moans into you, grabbing the side of your face as he stumbles with you to the wall, pressing you up against the side of the brick building.

You meet his moan with a whimper of your own as his hand slides down over the curve of your ass, and he hikes up the skirt of your dress to grab at your skin with abandon. There’s a ferocity in Steve’s kiss that you don’t know what to do with, like he’s trying to stake a claim to you right there in the rain, with no one around to see it happen but the moths in the street light overhead. Not that he needs to- he’s already got you. You already chose him.

Steve gives you room to breathe with a soft sigh, his forehead resting against yours. “Been wanting to do that since high school,” he admits, just loud enough for you to hear, before pressing a featherlight kiss just beside your mouth, and again to your cheek.

“Y-you fffucking-?” you gasp when he latches his lips around a sweet spot on your neck and sucks. “I had such a huge crush on you, Steve.”

“I know. I- I should have- I should…” Steve drops his head against your shoulder and groans when your nails rake against his scalp. “Fuck.”

He grinds his hips up against yours, biting your lip as the hard length of his cock presses up against your core. “Gonna fuck me in this alleyway, Harrington?”

“I’m seriously considering it,” he growls into your ear. His lips find yours again with a passion, his hand holding your jaw still. A hot breath escapes him, pouring over your skin and making you shiver. You’re lightheaded, so close to just letting him do it, too, when the back door of the restaurant swings open.

Steve still takes a second to pull away, a little too absorbed in kissing you to really care who sees him do it. If he had his way, he’d have everyone see that you’re his- that you belong with him, and have for a long time. He finally glances over his shoulder to see one of the cooks, Liam, walking off in the direction of the employee parking lot.

“Where did you get the fucking doubloon?” you whisper into his ear, sounding so fucking adorable that Steve can’t help the lovesick look he gives you.

He brushes his nose against yours. “I sent my manager on a treasure hunt.” You giggle, pressing your forehead up against his, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you. “I wanted to give you one at Family Video, that time.”

“I know,” you say, and he pulls back to look at your face. “I heard you yelling at your coworker in the back room.”

Steve snickers and turns red with embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his rain-soaked hair, a content smile on your face as you feel him grin against your skin and shake with laughter. “Take me home, Steve.”

You don’t have to ask him twice.

What would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you make me want you even more…

The drive to Steve’s apartment downtown is made with light conversation and the heavy, heavy weight of his hand on your thigh, creeping up further with each mile. But aside from the implication of sex hanging in the air, it’s as easy as breathing, chatting about the night with him. Shitting on Theo.

“Did you notice the way he said coquilles,” Steve murmurs to you at a red light. “I thought he was gagging on something. He was just trying to impress you, you know.”

You grunt. Could’ve tried a little harder. “He didn’t even like them. He said he didn’t like shellfish,” you laugh in return as you lace your fingers through Steve’s. “Why the fuck would you order scallops, then?”

“The price.”

It’s sweet, talking to him all the way to his apartment building, just catching up like old friends. He tells you that he’s going to culinary school now, and he’s been working at the restaurant for a little over a year, just to pay the bills.

“Culinary school? Really?” you say, with a note of awe in your voice.

“Turns out I’m really fucking good at cooking,” Steve chuckles. “Who’d have thought? Maybe someday I’ll stop waiting tables and work back there in the kitchen.”

“I can see it,” you tell him softly. “I can see you being the world’s best chef. Three stars and everything.”

He scoffs, but a pink blush creeps up the back of his neck. “You have too much faith in me.”

“Those are fighting words, Harrington.” You wag your finger at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“You just want me to cook you something,” Steve tuts.

“Absolutely, I do.” You consider him for a moment, in the passing light of a streetlamp. “Am I that transparent?”

Steve tilts his head to eye you meaningfully, and he smirks. “Always have been, honey.” His thumb rubs a little circle on your thigh that has you squirming in your seat.

The first thing you see of Steve’s apartment is the kitchen, and beyond that the dormant living room, but you don’t get that far before you’re sidetracked. Steve throws his keys onto a drop station by the door, and pins you up against the refrigerator before you can even think to ask where to put your shoes.

Your clothes are still damp, your hair still pasted to your clammy skin. Steve’s lips are attacking yours and his hands are grabbing at everything he can touch, but it’s still not enough. He’s not able to feel all of you at once, and it’s driving him insane with every passing moment.

Steve roughly yanks his suit jacket off, throwing it onto the tile floor beside the kitchen island. “Lay down.”

“What?” you whisper to him as he kisses your neck, guiding you away from the side of the fridge. “Here?”

“Right here,” Steve states, not joking in the slightest. You wobble on your feet as you kick off your heels, but his hands on your hips keep you steady. “Been waiting too long for this- can’t wait anymore.”

“I- wwhuh-?” you gasp as Steve kneels in front of you, and your knees buckle involuntarily as he lays you down across his discarded jacket. Your hands grab his shoulders as you tumble backward, taking him with you.

He face-plants into your stomach with a noisy, “Oof.” Cackling, you run your fingers through his damp hair, as he laughs and shoves his blushing face further against your torso. Steve litters your stomach with kisses, giggling against you with a note of nervous energy. He’s adorable.

You pet your fingers down the side of his face and he leans into the touch. “Can’t even wait long enough to take me to the bedroom?”

“Well, I would have fucked you in the alley,” Steve points out as his fingers breach the hem of your skirt and find your panties. He tugs as he says, “Be thankful I even got you home.”

Your cheeks burn hot. You fidget, trying to press your thighs together to abate the throbbing ache between them. “Careful, baby. You’re starting to sound desperate.”

Steve pauses, his hazel eyes lighting up when they lock on yours. “Call me that again,” he requests, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he pulls your panties off your feet. He tosses them over his shoulder, but you don’t see where they land as he continues peppering kisses down your calf.

You hold his gaze. “Baby?” His eyes flutter, his lips parting as they drag up toward your knee. “You like when I call you that?”

“I like when you call me anything,” Steve admits. “But as long as you call me that, it means I’m yours.”

Your breath stutters in your chest. Steve Harrington is yours. It doesn’t matter if it’s just for tonight- what matters is that you have him now, and he wants you just as badly.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he murmurs quietly against your skin, his voice crackling with brimming need. He’s flushed, his cheeks pink and his hair drying in tousled waves over his forehead the longer he drags this out.

Nodding your head, you reach down to lace your fingers through his, where they’re bunching your skirt up around your hips. “Yes, Steve.” Always have been.

He turns his head and sucks a spot on your calf, just below your knee, resting your ankle over his shoulder. Still, despite your desperation, you nervously keep your thighs pinched together.

Steve tuts, “C’mon, baby, you’ve gotta spread your legs for me. You wanna let me see that pretty pussy, right?”

Still clammy and cold with rain, the air on your exposed skin makes you shiver almost as much as his sweeping hands do when they gently part your thighs. You let go, let him take control as you still and keep your eyes focused on his face, because looking anywhere else would remind you that this is real, and not a dream.

Steve sighs, “There she is. Y’gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” He bats his pretty eyes at you in a way that makes your heart stop dead in your chest. He can’t keep his mouth off of you, even for a moment, his lips and slight stubble dragging across your skin as he says, “Been wanting to forever, you won’t even believe-”

“Please, Steve,” you start to beg before he even finishes his sentence. “Please, my god, I- I just- I just want you so much-”

“Sh-sh-sh-shh.” His tongue licks wet and hot against your inner thigh before he whispers, “I’ve got you, baby. M’not going anywhere, I’m staying right here ‘til you cum.”

You’re instantly hot all over, your blood fucking boiling beneath your skin and your wet dinner dress. Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he yanks you toward his face, the fabric of his jacket beneath you audibly zipping along the kitchen floor.

Steve dips his head, and his mouth closes over your cunt right at the same moment that yours falls open with a moan that won’t come out, because you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. The noise stalls right at the beginning- your lungs stop working and you can’t seem to get them to start again, because Steve’s tongue is everywhere, dripping wet and gentle on skin that’s way too sensitive to handle it right now. Your hips try to jerk away from him in resistance, but he slams his hand down on them, holding you hard and still against the tile floor, his shoulders pushed up against the backs of your thighs to keep them open.

Steve takes a break just long enough to grin evilly up at you, because he’s been waiting for five years to tell you to, “Breathe, sweetheart.”

“Fffffuck,” you manage to spit out finally, your voice cracking on the word like it didn’t even really want to put in the work to make it happen. Your breath comes back into your lungs all at once, rapid firing with a dozen moans for punctuation. Steve’s lips quirk against you, and he rumbles a noise of satisfaction against your pussy that makes you jolt in his hold again. “Steve…”

He pulls off of you with a slow, slow stroke of his tongue over your clit, making you whimper high and tight in your throat. “That’s it, baby,” Steve whispers, his breath fanning across your slick cunt, his left hand leaving your hip so that he can drag his knuckles teasingly through your swollen folds. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so right.”

Two long fingers sink into you with ease, stirring the need in you to have him just simply destroy you. You moan loud, your hand shooting out and wrapping around the leg of a bar stool for the kitchen island beside you.

“Poor thing’s just so sensitive, huh?” Your head arches backwards against the floor, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as he curves them with practiced accuracy. Steve’s voice is a deep murmur, distant thunder rolling over your nerves, “Relax for me, honey. You’ve waited long enough, just let it happen. Let me give you what you want.”

His lips shine when you look down at him, your hand reaching to run through his hair. Stifling a whine that threatens to come out when he kisses your clit and bends his fingers within you, you stutter out, “J-just want… I- ha-ah! Just want you.”

Steve purrs. “I know.” The crisp white fabric of his shirt scrapes against your thighs, almost rough in comparison to his tongue flat on your pussy. You can hear the wet, salacious sound of his fingers pumping into you, pulling you toward the edge of oblivion. He hisses through his teeth, shaking his head slightly. “God, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Y-you-?” you manage a laugh, scraping your nails along his scalp lightly. “You’re lucky? You have n-no… fffucking idea-” You cut off with a sob when Steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking long and hard enough that your leg twitches, your heel dragging up the back of his pristine white blouse. Your breathing picks up just as all your muscles lock down tight. “Jesus Christ-”

“There you go,” Steve praises as your orgasm shakes your body, your hand gripping his hair so hard that he groans softly into your damp skin. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, lewd wet noises picking up and echoing through the quiet kitchen. “That’s a good girl. Mmm , felt so nice to let go, didn’t it?”

You don’t know if he really wants you to answer that- you’re still twitching, coming down from your high as he pulls his fingers from your spasming cunt and sucks them into his mouth. The pause gives you a gentle reprieve, sinking back onto his suit jacket beneath you. Then, his mouth finds your pussy again, his tongue delving deep into your entrance and laving up to your sensitive clit.

You gasp, throwing your hands down into his hair. “Steve-?!”

He moans in response. “Just needed to taste you some more, honey. Taste so fuckin’ sweet, I can’t get enough.” Steve relents, crawling up your body to hover his face over yours. “Still wanna see the bedroom?”

You nod excitedly, your hands finding his smiling face and stroking the hair away from his eyes. With a gentle kiss of his wet lips to yours, Steve gathers your still-wrecked body into his arms and carries you into his bedroom.

He’s struck by how blissful you are as he sets you down on his bed, so soft and inviting. He encourages your arms up, his hands finding the zipper of your wet dress and finally, finally, pulling it over your head so that he can see you. All your curves and edges on display for him, after all this time imagining what he couldn’t see with the naked eye.

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve repeats what he told you all those years ago at prom- he meant it then, and he means it now. Maybe even more this time, now that he’s not a stupid teenager, now that he finally has his head on his shoulders.

You shiver against him when he unclips your bra- black lace that matches the underwear sitting in his entryway. A possessive part of him rears up, knowing that you’d worn them to a date with some asshole who couldn’t treat you right, even for one hour of the guy’s miserable life. Steve dips his head and kisses your breast, so much softer now than he was before, feeling your heartbeat against his lips.

“Hey.” You gently tug him by his tie, loosening it and his collar. You look into his eyes, and his heart melts. “Where’d you go just now, sailor?”

Steve blushes, his eyes flicking down as you remove his tie and start unbuttoning his blouse. “Just thinking...” he trails off, eyeing you thoughtfully. “Just thinking I could have missed you again if I wasn’t careful.”

“Mmm,” you hum, your hands smoothing up his chest and over his shoulders to get his shirt off of him. It drops to the floor with a whisper. “I don’t think so. I think this was meant to happen, eventually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You scrunch your nose cutely, in a way that makes Steve’s pants tighten even more uncomfortably across his hips. “We’ve run into each other too many fuckin’ times, baby. Karma’s on our side.”

He laughs. “Karma.” He shakes his head as he undoes his belt.

You quirk your brow at him as your hands fiddle with the fly of his suit pants. “Don’t believe me?”

Steve grunts, shifting to lean over you. “I’ll believe anything you say when you’re taking my pants off, honey. I’m easy that way.”

Your nails rake through the hair on his chest- you can’t keep your hands off of him now that they’ve got him. You trace over two blotchy scars, one on either side of his torso that mirror each other. “What happened here?”

He blows a puff of air out of his mouth, rounding his cheeks as he shrugs. “Some… animals decided I looked really tasty, at one point. I know, they aren’t very pretty.”

Steve’s brushing over it like it’s nothing. You search his face, and you decide to do the same. “Actually, I think it’s kind of hot.” You drag your hand up to lay flat over his chest. You whisper conspiratorially, “Plus, I think you look really tasty, too.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Y’gonna bite me about it?”

“Probably.” You wink. “Most likely.”

Your gaze falls indiscreetly to his cock, hard and flushed, glistening with precum and curving up toward his stomach. Girls talk, especially when they’re all trying to one-up each other; you knew that he was big. You’d heard the rumors. You’d seen him wearing those tight fucking jeans all the time, and you didn’t have to have much of an imagination to figure it out.

Still. It’s… a little overwhelming. You reach out a tentative hand, lightly wrapping your fingers around his base. They barely meet. Jesus Christ.

He groans, and kisses you until you can’t speak, resting his weight on top of you until you sink gleefully into the mattress. There’s a smile on your lips that transfers onto his, happiness and ease still flowing between you even as he grinds his hips up against yours.

“Ready?” Steve murmurs softly into your mouth, stealing your breath when you feel his cock slide through your folds, hot and fat.

“Dunno,” you tell him teasingly, but there’s an edge of reason to your words. Your hips squirm and you feel him even worse, slippery with your arousal. You whine. “I think you might kill me with that thing, Harrington.”

“I’ll go slow,” he whispers, hoarse in the back of his throat, his voice already shaking. “I’ll make sure you feel every bit of it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree as you reach to line him up properly. “I’m all yours.”

Steve gives a relieved sigh as he slides into you, his head falling heavily to your shoulder. His cock aches, his torso shaking as he tries to steady himself. “Oh my god.”

“Baby,” you coo, choking on a moan when he bottoms out. He’s so thick- your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you try to remember how to breathe. It’s certainly a big stretch to try to fit him, but you can’t help wanting more just as soon as he comes to a stop. You can feel him trying to hold steady, holding himself back as though it’s the hardest thing in the world for him to do.

Because it is. You can’t see it, the way that his brow is furrowed in concentration, his eyes screwed shut. He didn’t know it would be like this- that he’d be in danger of blowing it just as soon as he started.

Your heel digs into his ass, and he doesn’t know if you do it purposefully, but he almost whimpers.

You take a shuddering breath. “Please- please move, Steve, I can’t take it.”

Oh, you can’t take it? “You know what,” Steve says with a hint of strain in his voice, picking his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, “I think you like me.”

You snort, and kiss him lightly. “What gave you that impression?”

“Y’so fucking cute.” Steve hums and sloooowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock through your walls so deliciously that your toes curl. “Could be all those times you stared at me in class-” He watches your face as he pushes forward, until his hips are flush with yours and your head arches backwards against his sheets. “Could be when you nearly let me kiss you at prom-” Out. In. Steve runs his tongue up the length of your throat, and bites at your earlobe. He whispers, “Could be that you came on my tongue ten minutes ago.”

He picks up his pace, just a bit. Just enough to have the bed creaking under you with the rhythm, to have you moaning in tandem with him- needy and high pitched, leaping from your throat into the hot, sex-charged air.

Steve’s lips latch onto your neck, and he sucks hard. He eases up after just a couple seconds, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot, but you know what he’s just done- he’s marked you, right where you won’t be able to hide it in the morning.

You want him to do it all over your body.

Your jaw goes slack and you’re losing all integrity. He’s even better than you imagined- sleepless nights wanting, hoping endlessly that you’d find yourself here, under him, couldn’t have prepared you for how perfect it feels. His hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, pinning it to the mattress beside your head, squeezing with every slow and purposeful thrust of his hips.

Steve’s cock finds your g-spot like it’s nothing, like he’s known your body for ages. He barely even has to try before you’re whimpering, raking your nails up his back and leaving long red trails behind.

Your teeth latch onto his shoulder and you bite, probably harder than you should, but you just can’t refuse the urge to mark him the way that he’s left his mark on you. He moans, a deep and boyish sound in your ear, as you drag your tongue along his shoulder, soothing the bite, tasting his sweat. The salt and the sweetness of his skin, mixed with the heady smell of sex in the room, have you losing yourself in him.

“Biter.” You hear him chuckle dangerously, rumbling along your skin while his nose skirts your jawline.

“You’re so good, Stevie-” you whine, hot pleasure rearing up in you like a tidal wave. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, I love- love how you feel inside me.”

Steve groans loudly into your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone. You think he has a mind to bite you back- maybe he’d do it harder. You can see Steve drawing blood, when the mood suits him.

But his hand squeezes yours, his other sweeping broadly up your thigh and hitching your leg up further over his hip. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, bordering on a growl, “What’d’ya say we stay like this forever, huh? Just like this?”

His pelvis grinds up against yours, his pubes crushing against your clit making you gasp. Everything’s wet- your skin, his skin, the sheets. Sweaty bodies sticking and sliding against each other, your hips meeting his in the middle.

“Like this?” you gasp, your head reeling. His forehead presses against yours, and it’s just about the only thing bringing you back into focus. Steve doesn’t falter, keeping the same pace and rhythm while he watches you try to form a coherent reply. “Mm- I- I, hhuh-”

“C’mon, babygirl,” he breathes against your damp skin, “you can do better than that. You love my cock so much, you wanna keep it warm all the time? Wanna stay in bed with me forever, is that it?”

You nod fervently, your hands grabbing at his neck, his hair, his shoulder- anywhere you can touch. “Yes, yes. God, Steve, I- you’re gonna make me cum, shit-”

“I know it,” Steve murmurs, tugging your lip between his teeth and making you whine again. Your cunt pulses around him, and he hisses, his hand slipping on your thigh. “Love seein’ you all drunk on my cock- shit, you’re so gorgeous like this.” He pauses to kiss you, making you lightheaded, making you tug at his hair. “Y’look so pretty under me, baby. Pussy feels so good, I wanna stay here, too. I can see us doin’ this for the rest of our lives, huh? How’s that sound?”

How does it sound? You and Steve Harrington, together forever? Intertwined, knotted up with no way to lose each other, no disappearing and then reappearing years down the line?

“S’that a challenge?” you whimper shakily at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“I don’t think I could let you go, now,” Steve tells you firmly, his hand leaving your thigh so that he can grab your jaw possessively, his tongue darting out to trace gently across your bottom lip. “I’m never gonna let you go, baby.”

You wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t want you to.”

“I hope so,” he whispers, his breath mingling with yours.

Steve kisses you long and slow when you cum. You swallow his moans when he does.

What would you? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you, oh, I can see you…

You almost think it’s a dream. When you rouse in the morning, you feel like you imagined it. But you’re surrounded by the scent of Steve, of musky cologne and sweat and sex, and maybe just a little bit of hair gel stuck to his pillows.

You flop over and stare at the ceiling. You’re alone in a king size bed, fitted with gray sheets and a few too many pillows. The other side of the bed is still warm, but your paramour is nowhere to be found. His bedroom is fairly stark, with a few little things arranged on the dresser top and clothes thrown around the floor. It doesn’t feel like a room he spends much time in, aside from sleeping and dressing in the morning.

You immediately think about what this all means for you. Whether he really meant what he said in the heat of the moment, if he really wants this to be a long-term thing or if it was just pillow talk. It doesn’t take you long to determine which one you want it to be.

There’s commotion on the other side of the closed door. You lean over the side of the bed, searching for something to put on before you just waltz out there naked. Ultimately, you pull on his blouse from last night.

You emerge from the bedroom squinting against the light in the room. The blinds in the living room are open, casting bright sunlight across the room and into the kitchen. You find Steve in front of the stove.

“Hey, there she is!” he announces happily. “Just in time for breakfast.”

Steve looks so comfortable in the kitchen, moving around quickly and efficiently, whereas you tend to blunder about. When you wander over to the island, you notice he’s already picked up his suit jacket, and laid it across the bar stool next to the one you choose.

Your underwear is nowhere to be seen.

You grin at his back, plopping down onto the bar stool. The metal is cold against your bare ass, nearly making you squeal and jump back up. “Is it a Sex on the Beach?”

He laughs gleefully. “Nah, if only. How was that, by the way?”

“The ice cream, or the porn?”

He turns to grin at you over his shoulder. “Both.”

He’s wearing glasses. Round wire frames that complement his face perfectly, making him look distinguished in his gray sweats and black t-shirt. Just like that, you’re spiraling. Suddenly, you’re picturing yourself being here, with him cooking breakfast in his glasses and PJ’s every morning, on and on into the future. Doing domestic shit, grocery shopping, dancing around in the kitchen at 3 am, kissing in the rain- well, you’ve already done that one.

But you can see it. That future, with him by your side, it’s right there. You just don’t know if it’s the one that he wants. You don’t really know how deep this runs for him.

Funny what just an accessory can do to your train of thought.

“Um.” You swallow. What was the question? “The ice cream was great. Still the best sundae I’ve ever had, by the way. The porn was bullshit, I didn’t get through twenty minutes. I just wanted to make you blush.”

“Brat.” He spins around, and plates an omelet right in front of you. You watch his face, tracing the easy smile he wears. “I hope you like it- but if you don’t, you better not say anything. I don’t think I could handle the pain of your rejection.” He looks up at you, hazel eyes shining gold in the sunlight. “You’re staring.”

“I-” you blink at him. You don’t fucking say. You open your mouth to ask- you want to ask what this is, what he feels, did he mean it. Do you want to do this again? Is this serious for you? Because it is for me, if you want it. You just don’t get that far.

“You’ve been staring since we were fourteen,” he chuckles, sliding you a fork.

That startles you. “Well,” you click your tongue. “I didn’t realize you were looking so closely.”

“Oh,” Steve shrugs, turning to place the pan in the sink. “Just since freshman year. When you read Juliet’s monologue in English class. Remember?”

You tilt your head. Vaguely. It was just a class project, where each person had to choose a Shakespearean monologue to recite in front of the class. You thought he only even became aware of you senior year.

Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee, Take all myself.

“Are you telling me,” you say, palms flat on the counter as you peer at him incredulously, “you’ve liked me just as long as I’ve liked you?”

“Told you I’d get there, eventually.”

Your brain refuses to compute. You stare at his back, his tousled hair, and want to yank him toward you and squeeze him like one of those fucking squeaky toys that you get at the pet store. The ones the eyes pop out of.

Steve turns to you with a smirk, leaning across the counter to mirror you. He reaches forward to trace the mark he made on your neck, still tender, while mocking your pout back at you. His eyes crease at the corners, like they always do when he’s trying to be coy.

“Eat your breakfast, baby. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

(I see you, I see you, baby.)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #roses*

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ghostlyfleur · 5 months

Text

𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡.

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: the sweet progression of steve and his pretty girl’s relationship.

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, idiots in love, oblivious!reader, shy!reader, inexperienced!reader. pet names (angel, baby, flower girl, pretty girl, princess, sweet girl). 18+ mdni, smut-adjacent. world building.

word count: ~4.5k

pre-relationship—

steve’s girl friend is a soft spoken, remarkably sweet, gentle soul. she’s shy, way too anxious, so inexperienced that she comes off as innocent. her wardrobe consists of flowy skirts and flowery dresses and soft sweaters and cozy knits, puts flowers in her hairdos like interwoven in braids or tucked in a half-up half-down mess, has this ethereal vibe to the makeup she likes to wear (ie. shimmery eyeshadow in soft colors, highlighter, sparkly lipgloss, white waterline pencil, fairy wing eyeliner designs, and slightly blushy cheeks), wears silver wire-framed glasses at home when not using contacts and steve thinks it brings out her gorgeous eyes even more. she always wears pretty dangly earrings with flowers, her nails painted with glitter nail polish or neutral soft colors, and steve thinks she’s an angel.

the rest of the people in town mostly think her to be weird and unapproachable, with the way she stops mid walk to crouch down and whisper softly to a ladybug she sees on the sidewalk, or when she accidentally bumps into a street pole and yells out a panicked ‘sorry!’ as if she would hear a reply back.

when steve first met his girl, he was enchanted.

she was so soft and beautiful and kind, but also very anxious; something he noticed the first time she walked into scoops ahoy, and steve was so excited to finally talk to the pretty girl that started working at the flower shop down the block that he’s been pining for. the pretty girl’s reaction to his flirting however was of shyness, nervousness, and seemingly scared silence… so steve decided to make a fool out of himself just to see her smile. it was worth it. steve felt as if her laughter was the equivalent of the skies opening up to let sunshine peak through dark clouds. they eased their way into each other’s lives after that. his girl started seeking him out, finding comfort and safety in his presence and caregiving personality, though remaining clueless of his feelings and just how much robin teased him for being a smitten fool.

“pretty flower girl” is how steve referred to her at the beginning, all heart eyes and dreamy sighs. working at a flower shop seems to fit her so entirely, like she’s in her own little world while surrounded by flora. she’s able to tell you the meanings, both positive and negative, of any flower imaginable, of different plants too! keeps a log book and a journal to track her flora friends’ growth, pressed flowers and polaroid pictures of different bouquets, photographs each beautiful arrangement she creates in a picture album.

her home is also completely taken over by pots and plants and gardens and hanging vines, secrets whispered to them while she waters her little friends as needed, full conversations kept that seem to make all the plants bloom and flourish even more. lots of natural light comes in from the many windows of her cabin, surrounded by greenery and trees and a small pond that wild animals often visit, knowing her safe haven is also a safe haven for any animals. the place always smells like whatever she’s baking, the decor homey and filled with crystals and incense and hand painted mugs and vases. greens, yellows, oranges, and tan colors. books balanced on any available surface.

she becomes steve’s girl best friend, and he loves her so much. worships her, really. steve makes it his mission to spoil and love his pretty girl, even if he hides it behind silly flirting and the pretense of friendship.

whenever they’re together, steve and his girl are all the other sees. the gang has a little bet on who will break first, steve or his flower girl.

her sit is always his lap.

steve swears off other girls as soon as he meets her.

he is very affectionate towards her, and she loves to kiss his cheeks.

they often have sleepovers just the two of them.

they’re so close they can just exist together and be at peace.

she’s so supportive of him too, always praising him and hyping him up.

steve is overprotective of her.

whenever one goes the other sure follows.

see, steve’s girl is so sweet on him it drives robin crazy. because robin knows the feelings are reciprocated, but she also knows both steve and his girl enough to know she needs to let them figure this out by themselves. it doesn’t mean robin isn’t their number one fan, though.

steve’s pretty girl bakes him sweets often to bring to him at work to “make your day a little easier, stevie”, she brings him flowers from her job that steve learns to preserve in his room, she gives him her favorite ring that he never takes off. but steve also does little things for his sweet girl— takes care of her and buys her chocolate because it makes her so happy and giddy he falls a little more in love each time. he also reminds her to drink water, buys her favorite snacks for movie night or when she’s on her period, takes her to the movies, drives her everywhere (because she’s his pretty passenger princess) to have some extra time with her.

oh! steve’s girl also has a bunch of homemade gifts that she keeps in a small glass trunk in her home because she’s too shy to give them to her stevie— handmade bracelets, handmade wire rings, pretty things she finds at thrift stores that remind her of her pretty boy, handmade necklaces, small gifts with pressed flowers, letters she writes down because she feels so deeply for her sweet boy that she needs to let it out somehow, and a bunch of other small gifts that she hopes one day she can give to her stevie to show him how much she loves him.

she’s so lovely to her stevie without even realizing, though. she’s demiromantic, you see, and after becoming friends with steve she started to slowly fall for him. the thing is, she knew very well what was happening, she’s very in tune to her emotions, and she fell for him willingly! whereas steve fell for her fast and kept falling.

imagine his girl never had her first kiss… she’s so inexperienced and her sweet persona and gentle demeanor make her seem like the softest person ever. steve is so mesmerized by her.

he flirts with her and is sweet to her and devotes his time to her and spoils her rotten and gives her kisses and hugs and cuddles and all the love he has to give— steve quickly decided that even if they’re ‘just friends’ he’ll still treat her like his princess, give her everything he can and shower her in his adoration until she catches up. and even then, even when it’s so obvious that steve is in love with her, that he blushes and stutters and gets flustered only for her, that he shows her every day just how much he loves her, she remains oblivious.

in her pov, she knows she’s in love with her stevie so she’s going to treat him like the most precious person in her world. which he is. the thing is that she gives him all of her love without ever once considering that he might return it, even as he flirts and quite literally says he’s hers and she’s his all the time, it never even crosses her mind to actually believe it. maybe because she’s trying to protect herself from heartbreak. she just decides that her stevie deserves the world so she’s going to give him all she can.

but she’s so soft with him! holds his face between her hands when talking to him sometimes like she’s holding her whole world on her hands, presses kisses to his cheeks all the time, gives him hugs. she always compliments him, isn’t afraid of telling him exactly what’s on her mind…

“you look so pretty, stevie”

“i’m so proud of you.”

“i missed you lots today!”

“i saw this cute puppy and it reminded me of you ‘cause you’re just as cute!”

“i always prefer your company.”

flower girl is the most adorable sight steve has ever seen! she pouts so prettily whenever she doesn’t get the attention she wants from him, all soft lips and furrowed brows and plush cheeks crossed arms, and steve just wants to pepper kisses all over her face.

her love languages:

she bakes him cookies ; buys him things that remind her of her stevie ; plans these cute little “friend” outings that feel more like dates ; she’s never lacking in her affections though she’s very timid and shy when it happens ; will defend him no matter what ; makes sure to always praise him ; she gets all cranky if someone insults him even playfully ; she’s very shy so she often hides her face on his chest or neck and it makes his heart flutter ; she helps him babysit bc the kids love her ; she gave her stevie a special arrangement of flowers that she created just for him plus a little booklet of pictures of the two of them together that also had pressed flowers on it for his birthday ; she checks in with him every day even if they don’t see each other to make sure her stevie is doing okay ; will stay on the phone with him all night especially if he had a nightmare or a fight with his parents.

where steve’s best friend is all cute and pouty and sweet and clingy and loving but only to her stevie!!!!! and she’s a bit ditzy— talks to animals and plants and inanimate objects like they can answer her, her thoughts jump from one thing to another but steve always entertains her, she skips instead of waking a lot, she dresses all cute and coquette and always has glitter on her somewhere, she gives steve handmade gifts all the time with this shy little smile and blushing and sometimes when the gift is specially meaningful she’ll run away as soon as he accepts it 🥺 she trips over her own feet a lot too!!! so steve has to grip her waist to help her find her footing!!! and it makes her break out in goosebumps!!! and steve is so in love with her, with her ramblings and midnight ice cream cravings and true crime rants and the way she talks about murder and psychopath profiling and laughs at horror movies and has crystals and tarot cards and wants to befriend ghosts, how she gives her stevie little glass bottles with protection spells or anti-anxiety spells or how she always needs to hear his voice before bed.

and she’s so pretty and soft and kind and nice and laughs a lot and everyone loves her— but she never notices how so many people flirt with her, and never notices whenever steve scares possible suitors away, because really she only sees steve!!!!!! and it makes him crazy to see how she blatantly ignores anyone and everyone to focus on him!!!!!

but then one day steve’s girl starts feeling sad and heartbroken because she’s convinced herself that steve still loves nancy so she starts pulling away a little and steve doesn’t understand what he did wrong! robin has to spell it out for him that his girl thinks he still wants nancy when that couldn’t be further from the truth; steve now knows he’s never truly been in love before, not like he is with his angel, and that it was his angel that showed him he deserves someone who loves him just as much as he loves them. therefore, steve does his best to find ways to tell his girl that nancy is in the past, that she has nothing to worry about, but he has to do so while him and his angel aren’t together yet so he slowly breached the subject until he can figure out where his girl stands, if he can make a move, if she’s interested in him too, y’know? like those conversations filled with a deeper meaning and both parties trying to drop hints about their feelings but they’re still too hesitant to be more clear in their affections. for now.

imagine steve spoiling her and making her all giddy and happy and shy and giggly :( i want steve to treat his baby like royalty way before they even get together :( i wanna read about their first kiss and how it makes steve’s knees buckle and how she’s so giggly because it’s her first kiss and he tells her he wants to marry her right then and there and she tells him she never ever would consider being with anyone but her stevie :(

after they get together—

their first kiss happens in what steve considers to be the best night of his life to date.

it was halloween, and he was slightly nervous about going to the fair with not only the kids and robin and eddie, but his girl too. the year before, he stayed in with his angel and robin watching movies and eating junk, which was the perfect night ‘cause he got to cuddle his girl, but last halloween he went out to celebrate didn’t end up being very enjoyable for him… what with having your now-ex call you bulshit, bullshit, bullshit.

however, this is his girl he’s talking about. while it wasn’t a date, simply a hangout with their friend group, steve still considers his girl, well… his. and the fact she insisted on meeting them there herself had him slightly on edge.

she was dressed as a fairy.

steve has never seen anyone as pretty, as mesmerizing. and the way she treated this night, treated him, was driving steve crazy.

first, once she meets everyone at the entrance of the amusement park they agreed to go to, she insists on paying for both herself and steve. literally grabs steve’s wallet from his hand and only gives it back after she pays.

he, of course, only really allows it because she gives him her — in steve’s opinion illegal — pouty puppy eyes that she knows steve can’t say no to.

afterwards, once they all enter and the kids disperse to the various entertainment with the agreement of meeting up later to eat, steve’s girl drags him away from robin and eddie, who were both sporting knowing grins, to a shooting booth where she proceeds to win, suspiciously easily might he add, a stuffed frog for him.

and then she grabs his hand. albeit hesitantly, but she does. intertwining their fingers and everything.

the entire night was a dream for steve, and unbeknownst to him, for his girl too. she had a plan, you see. his angel was pulling out all the stops, even if she was shy and blushy the whole time— paying for the tickets for both of them was number one. followed by winning steve a stuffed animal, holding his hand, sharing fried oreos and cotton candy (again, paid by her), and going to the photobooth. the ferris wheel would be last, but it’s what happens inside the photobooth that matters.

once inside, steve made sure she was sat on his lap. she payed again. the pictures go a little something like this:

1st pic steve is laughing and she’s looking at him like he’s her dream come true which he is / 2nd pic she pushes forward not being able to wait any longer and quickly presses her lips to his a bit messily / 3rd pic is her looking all flustered and shy and doe-eyed while steve has this dazed look in his eyes and his jaw is dropped / 4th pic is steve grabbing her cheeks and kissing her fully, brows furrowed and all.

steve steals another kiss at the top of the ferris wheel, it was giggling and smiling more than kissing, though.

on the drive home, angel makes a stop at their self-assigned star gazing spot where she officially asks steve to be her boyfriend, all flustered and timid but oh so hopeful. another kiss, a resounding “yes” from her sweet boy, and dropping him off with a quick goodnight kiss ends the night, and steve has never been happier.

the fact she planned this whole night, took a chance, romanced the hell out of him, and was so genuine the whole time, looking to make him smile, just because, had steve on a high unlike any other. no one has ever taken the time to spoil him, to do romantic things for him. he’s not used to reciprocity in relationships, but here this angel is professing her love for him and not only saying it but showing him she means it. best night of his life.

and so their relationship begins.

steve harrington just worships his girl, spoils her continuously, and wants to do everything for her. he is overly affectionate and just obsessed with his baby, pictures of her and with her everywhere on his house, his car, his wallet, maybe even a locket he wears with a copy of the picture of their first kiss on it. steve took the photobooth strip and got the second picture, his angel kissing him for the first time, copied and altered to fit into the locket.

everyone in town just knows steve is entirely whipped and he does not care. he is definitely touch starved for his girl, quite a bit jealous, however, but trusts her so much that it just comes out as a sort of possessiveness that isn’t toxic but something both he and, secretly, his angel enjoy. steve always praises her and wants to take care of her because she’s his sweet little angel girl.

steve is also her first everything— first kiss, first date, first boyfriend, first time… and it drives him insane! something about knowing he’s the only one that’s ever had her and the only one she’s ever wanted just drives him up the wall and gets him so needy. so desperate. so whiney and pouty.

something else about steve as a boyfriend is that he’s his angel’s biggest fan — always praising, always encouraging, always in awe of her. will brag about his baby to anyone. randomly brings her up in conversation because she’s all he thinks about and he’s so proud to be hers.

buying her flowers whenever he can so she’ll give him this wide, square smile of hers that takes over her whole face like she can’t control it and her nose scrunches up a bit and he never wants to look at anything but her.

her stevie is really into pda too, can’t take his hands off of her, but nothing extreme; casual touches and pecks on her nose or temple or lips or cheeks, buries his face in her neck often, hand holding constantly!!!!!!, plays with her hair, is always playing with the delicate ‘s’ pendant on her neck that he gifted her and she never takes off (steve has this proud little smile whenever he messes with it).

then there’s the casual dominance— steve tucks her hair behind her ears, ties her shoelaces for her, adjusts the clasp of her necklace, puts her dainty jewelry on for her, braids her hair because she’s always clumsy with it and she prefers his braids over hers, gives her water so she stays hydrated, remembers her meds for her, adjusts her beanie on her hair when it’s cold and she’s wearing one, wipes chocolate from the corner of her mouth because his baby is a messy eater, pulls on her waist when they’re walking so she doesn’t bump into someone or something because she’s too busy talking and looking at him, spoon feeds her when she’s too tired and sleepy and pouty, brushes her teeth for her too when she’s being his cute little tired baby or is in subspace, brushing her hair and treating her like a little doll, his little doll, and loves to shower with her so he can do it for her, loves to drive her everywhere too. she’s his pretty passenger princess and they both take that role very seriously.

and whenever his pretty baby gets all glassy eyed and needy and blushy for him? he melts.

steve has a daddy kink. major one. and when he finally finds his baby, his person, he starts noticing things she might be into for the sole reason of wanting to be the absolute best he can be for his baby. the thing is, he knows she’s entirely new to this and still a bit nervous and hesitant and shy, so he starts by filing things away in his brain to make sure once she’s ready and the time comes that he can treat her perfectly, and give her everything and anything she wants.

his baby is probably a sub, she must be, with how pliable and soft she gets. for sure has an oral fixation, always giving him little kisses and little bites randomly and pressing his hand to her lips so she can softly mouth at them (but will shy away and get flustered when she notices she’s doing this) (she just loves his hands and he knows). steve’s girl also gets all flustered and her breath hitches when he jokingly calls himself ‘daddy’, so he takes that as a good sign because there’s nothing steve wants more in this world than to be her daddy. only hers. to spoil and care for and love his baby to the best of his ability.

she also loves when he manhandles her, he’s noticed— it’s just that steve really enjoys carrying his baby around, loves feeling needed and loves holding her and having her body pressed to his and have her hold on to him, but also he just wants to do things for his baby, doesn’t want her to tire herself out, ever!

she doesn’t need to walk around all the time because her stevie’s here and he won’t have his baby do unnecessary work when he’s around. whenever he grabs her waist and places her on top of a counter or something and stands between her legs? she gets all smiley. steve also absolutely loves how clearly his touch affects her; she hums and melts into him and gets a bit breathless and just tries to bury herself into him until they become one. lots of cuddles and hugs from behind and just being entirely wrapped in each other while wearing the coziest sweaters under the cuddliest blanket are common occurrences.

the main thing, though… is how steve’s shy little girlfriend quickly becomes obsessed with his bulge. loves when her stevie hugs her from behind so it presses against her, or when he has her sit between his legs with her back to his chest, or any time where her stevie is holding her close. he doesn’t even need to be hard for her to enjoy it, i mean, he shows through his jeans even when he’s soft! and she just always thinks it looks so…soft? and chubby? and she just wants it smushed against her at all times.

it takes steve a while to figure it out, but when he does? he’s relentless! pressing up against his baby all. the. fucking. time. just to see her blush and stutter and get all shy… but she also fucking sighs and relaxes whenever he does it, like it’s such a comfort for her? to feel all of him? like it’s all she’s waiting for at all times. and it drives steve crazy how his cute, shy, introverted, virgin girlfriend who giggles all the time and is always flustered by him and hiding her hot cheeks with her hands and is so… clumsy and tentative and nervous when it comes to any sort of affection (which she only accepts from her stevie) ((she definitely hates touch except his)) (((and he knows it too! was one of the things that proved to him his pretty best friend had feelings for him too when they were ‘just friends’))) can be so desperate to feel his bulge against her.

angel also loves that her stevie boy has huge hands! absolutely massive. could-wrap-one-hand-around-your-entire-neck massive, beautiful, strong, soft hands.. and yeah, both steve and his girl definitely have huge size kinks. huge. they haven’t said so out loud yet, but it shows through their actions. steve loves how obvious the size difference is when they’re holding hands, or when his hand is on her soft thighs. most of the time his baby holds his fingers instead because it hurts a little bit to intertwine their fingers for too long and steve thinks it’s fucking adorable. she’s shorter too, so 😵‍💫 her sweet boy goes crazy. teasing, best friend steve comes out sometimes too when he uses her head as an armrest to tease her, or when he full on picks her up to take her somewhere if she’s being a brat or is too lazy, too tired to move.

steve’s angel loves their size difference. so much. it shows when she hides herself against his chest when it’s cold, when she compares hand sizes because “stevie, the difference is just insane!”, when steve smushes her into the mattress when they start fucking later on. steve notices his angel blush or sigh or break out in goosebumps whenever his hands are involved— i mean, can you blame her? his hands are so pretty. she’s always holding and touching and tracing her fingertips over his palms and pressing kisses, biting softly, sucking on his fingers when she’s restless, fidgety, or sleepy.

using steve as a weighted blanket is a must; helps angel when she’s anxious or having a bad day.

to be continued…

── harmo’s footnotes:

please remember to show your support by reblogging!

masterlist. steve dreams.

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steddie-fanfic-recs · 3 months

Text

Eddie Munson and the Dreamboy

by pukner

Rating: Not Rated Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Eleven | Jane Hopper & Steve Harrington, Eleven | Jane Hopper & Eddie Munson Character: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Robin Buckley Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Pet Names, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Brotherly Steve Harrington, Dreamscapes, Post-Vecna (Stranger Things), Steve Harrington Has Head Trauma, Eddie Munson is Whipped, Eddie Munson Lives, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Steve Harrington's Scoops Ahoy Uniform, Siblings Eleven | Jane Hopper & Steve Harrington, Steve's Hair Obsession Is A Plot Point, Requited Love, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Friendship, Robin doesn't show up much but she is his SOULMATE Words: 8,147 Chapters: 1/1

Summary

"How'd you get in here--" Steve hisses. "Your security sucks, sweetheart," says Eddie. Then, "Actually, that isn't true. It was a nightmare getting here, and the inside of your brain is a fucking labyrinth." Or, five times El and Eddie find a version of Steve Harrington while traversing his mindscape to drag him out of a coma (thanks, Vecna). And one time Steve finds Eddie.

#steddie #steddie fic rec #oneshot #5-10k #5+1 things

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0anonnymouslyours0 · 5 months

Note

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader Smut

Stevie is a bit stressed so reader decides to give him a bj after their shift at scoops ahoy❤️‍🔥🍨

their in the parking spot (in his car) and shes like "just let me take care of you" and blows him

yes.. im very much liking this, yes yes yes. its been a while since ive written smut tho... so im warming up <3

warnings: kissing, pet names, swearing, blow job (act shocked)

your in steves car, the aircon blasting. he parked away from the public area, hidden around a corner where nobody ventures. he sighs, running his hands through his unreasonably soft and fluffy hair.

you rest an arm on his shoulder. "stressed baby?" you ask, looking at him.

"the fucking kids who visit the shop.. a nightmare. they want like 50 samples each and leave without actually getting anything."

"sounds like your a bit worked up.." you whisper, hands trailing from his shoulder and onto his chest. you press him back, into the car seat. his eyes widen, and he turns to look at you, alarmed.

"let me help you out stevie.. hm?" you say, staring at him. he nods, his thoughts already slipping from his pretty head, as you slide across the console, closer to him.

you lean up to kiss him, soft and sweet, for a moment. your hands trail down his chest, nails scratching, as you reach for his trousers, unbuttoning them, and pulling them down to his knees.

"you gonna let me take care of you stevie?" you tease, staring at his blown pupils. you calm his now hard cock through his boxers, and he whines.

you snap his boxer band, and his eyes snap shut, breathing heavily as you lean down to position yourself.

you slip the boxers off, revealing his aching cock, and he moans as you slowly stroke him. you part your lips, kissing his tip teasingly.

"dont be a tease baby.." he whispers, leaning his head back against the seat.

obeying his command, you lean down, swiping your tongue around his dick, before taking him in your mouth.

"fuck-" he exhales, chest heaving as you get to work.

he loves when you suck him off, loves to look down at your wide eyes as they tear up. he loves to pull your hair, push you further down onto his aching cock, until your gagging and begging for him to stop. hes gentler now though, allowing you to do the work.

you pop off, running your tongue from his base to the tip, just how he likes. you know what he wants, and exactly how he likes it. soon, he knuckles are turning white as he grips the seat, letting out loud groans of pleasure as you suck him just right.

hes close, you can feel it in the way his thighs are tightening, and his cock seems painfully hard.

"shit." he whispers, breathless, reaching his hand up to grip your hair. "so fucking close babe.." he says.

he tugs your hair, urging you to go harder, and you do so.

"fuck- yes your so good to me- im right there." he groans, finally releasing into your mouth, chest heaving.

he guides your head up, kissing you messily and reaching to grab at you, grounding himself in the kiss.

"your so good to me sweetheart, treat me so fucking well."

#steve harrington #oneshot #smut #female reader #masterlist #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #fluff #stranger things smut

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nanoland · 7 months

Text

ofmd s2 incoherent rambling ahoy: about THEY THINK HE KILLED BUTTONS wtf wtf wtf O_O

guys i think this might be The Thing that broke the show?

BECAUSE OMG THEY THINK ED KILLED BUTTONS hey remember in s1 when karl the seagull was killed and there was an INSTANT mood shift?

suddenly, after all the slapstick funny pirate shenanigans, the crew had lost a member('s pet).

and there was this TENSION and You Need To Leave Now Mister Calico Jack. it was one of the big 'oh! these people care about each other' moments, and also one of the big 'stede cares about these people!' moments, when we actually saw him behaving like a CAPTAIN for the first time. he takes charge. he recognizes how serious this is. he makes the guy who killed Karl leave. it's one of the best scenes in the show.

AND NOW THE CREW THINKS ED KILLED BUTTONS.

BUTTONS!

THEIR ACTUAL HUMAN CREW MATE.

ED'S BEEN TRYING TO KILL THEM FOR MONTHS AND NOW. NOW HE HAS. BUTTONS IS DEAD.

the INSTANT ed stepped back onto that ship with stede and informed them that buttons turned into a bird and flew away it was so cool guys :), Jim should have jumped on him and stabbed him 70 times.

they make this whole huge deal out of 'here's this group of shellshocked people who just narrowly survived ed's abuse and all-but-murdered him in revenge'. how could their reaction to his FINALLY SUCCESSFULLY KILLING A CREW MATE be anything less than brutal?

and instead, they're just kinda..... annoyed. not happy about it. lucius flips him off. meh.

it's a really bad mistake, writing-wise, because it makes it feel like these people don't care much about each other. is it surprising they don't really mourn izzy when they didn't really mourn buttons?

(also it undermines stede, like a lot, because his whole arc in s1 was going from 'clueless newbie boss who treats his employees like toys' to 'loyal if somewhat inept captain who cares deeply about his crew'. there's a reason s1 ended on stede rescuing his crew. his character growth rested on how he learned to treat them better. and in s2, it feels like their well-being matters waaaay less to him than Ed's. which sucks!)

#our flag means death #ofmd critical

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emaadsidiki · 2 years

Video

...

Pets Ahoy @ SeaWorld Orlando

The pets have all been rescued & given a new home at SeaWorld. They’re trained using something called “Positive Reinforcement”.

#And someday we'll look back and say it was fun #seaworld orlando #pets ahoy #animal show #rescued #pets #compassion #seaworld #orlando #florida

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ah0yh0y · 5 months

Text

Me and my imaginary cat are going places

#ahoys thoughts #Actually add that to slew of pets #Every single time I see a cat picture I snuggle my imaginary cat CURSE ME I AM ALLERGIC

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tsams-and-co-memes · 2 months

Text

LAES Lunar Canon Info

Updated - 5/9/24

Lunar's likes:

Sour skittles, Smarty’s, and chewy chips ahoy

Beanbags

Things that glow in the dark

Metal music, as long as it’s still intelligible

Peaches and bananas

Comic books

Spider lily flowers

Space and astrology related things

Making an entrance

Spigot

Uncrustables

Kingdom Hearts

Anything sugary

Chainsaw Man

Sushi

Making himself smaller for other people

Coffee (it's implied that he rarely, if ever, gets it though)

Tekken 8

Penguins

Friday Night Funkin

Bowser

Lunar's dislikes:

The ocean

Putting ice in his drinks

The color red

History. In his words, history sucks and is like the worst subject in school

The color yellow

Football

Eclipse

Bloodmoon

The creator

Jack (subject to change)

Miscellaneous:

If Lunar gets too scared, he WILL cry

Unlike his brothers, he can eat food

When he is upset, anxious, tense, or getting scared, he makes a high pitched squeak sound that’s almost the equivalent of a whimper, but it sounds like a creaky door

His voice box has a concert hall sort of effect, in which a lot of reverb is added to whatever he says. There’s also another special function that lets him sound like he’s talking on an old radio station

He’s very sassy

He was originally made of nanomachines, before he was blown up by Eclipse

His birthday is August 11th

If he could have a pet, it’d be a chinchilla

He prefers showers over baths

He likes to act more childlike, although he himself is actually an adult

He has a habit of saying things that are very out of pocket

Lunar is slightly colorblind

He has weather based powers– namely wind and lightning

One of Lunar’s favorite games is Bloons TD6

His memory isn’t very good

Lunar doesn't wake up immediately and is groggy for a bit in the morning. He also screams every morning to help himself wake up more. His "wake up scream" also helps motivate him, too

It's implied that he watches Phineas and Ferb

He cleans himself via taking a sponge and scrubbing the metal parts of himself

Monty did design Lunar with the capability to change his clothes

Lunar's a sleep talker

Lunar can't read cursive, while Earth can

Lunar gets into a lot of trouble with small animals

When Lunar gets angry enough, he sounds more like Moon

Lunar can control wind, lightning, and heat (weather in general)

He's good at math

He occasionally eavesdrops on Earth’s therapy sessions with people if he finds the person attending interesting at all

Lunar doesn't know how to read Morse code

Lunar's comfort food is chips, and he eats them when stressed

When Lunar had a tail, his tail apparently was sensitive

Lunar's not good at rhythm games

Lunar has a stomach hatch that opens sideways like a cabinet door

Lunar sometimes makes the kids dance in the daycare. He even dances with them

Lunar thinks Bowser "can get it"

Lunar could eat an entire crate of Nutella in 3 days, and his body would convert it into star power

#laes #tlaes #the lunar and earth show #tlaes lunar #lunar and earth show lunar #lunar and earth show #laes lunar #canon info

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oh-stars · 3 months

Text

Doodles

Hurt

a Stobin Month 2024 prompt | 539 words | CW: off-screen injury | Rating: G

“Does this make me old now?”

Robin rolls her eyes as she sits down beside Steve. She sets her markers down in the crease of her thigh as she twists to face him on the couch. “You’re not old.”

“Me five years ago would never fumble this hard,” Steve huffs. He goes to cross his arms, but the big, bulky cast on his left hand stops him. He glares hard at it before offering it back to Robin.

She hums a thankful noise and uncaps the first marker.

“Just no dicks, please,” Steve sighs, leaning his head back. “I cannot go to work with dicks on my arm.”

“Who do you think I am? Eddie?” Robin rolls her eyes again . “I would never draw a dick on your arm.” Boobies, however, are a different story. She makes them small and at the top part of his cast where it’s most likely going to be obscured by his shirts and jackets.

Steve pouts. “I just cannot believe I fell so hard I broke my arm during a game with a bunch of old men.”

“Aren’t they all under forty?”

“Yeah, but this,” he gestures to the cast, “proves that I, the youngest of the group, is old and therefore, so are they.”

“Come back to me when you get your first gray hair, then we can talk.”

“Why would you put that on me? Do you want me to die young? Jesus Christ, Robs,” Steve practically screeches, running his free hand through his hair.

She just smiles and starts drawing little flowers randomly on the plaster, trading out colors every now and then. He got a bright neon green, so the darker colors are really popping against the plaster.

For about thirty minutes, Steve just watches the ceiling fan as she doodles on his arm. She’s not leaving room for anyone else to sign, and maybe that’s selfish but Steve’s hers so she’ll do as she pleases, thank you.

Robin looks down at the mostly covered work and sighs. She decides to leave two openings for Dustin and Eddie to sign – the only two of the party who live in Chicago with them right now – but covers the rest. If she left any more openings, Eddie would doodle dicks and nerd shit while Dustin would use Steve’s arm to write equations or something. At least she’s drawing stuff he actually likes.

There’s baseballs and basketballs (which she realizes may be a sore subject right now, so she put those where they were least visible) among the flowers and little music notes sprinkled in. She even drew a bottle of hairspray in the crease of his elbow. There’s a symbol for every job they’ve worked together: an icecream cone for Scoops Ahoy, a VHS tape for Family Video, a book for that bookstore they love, coffee mug from the brief time they tried to be baristas, a donut from the bakery that Steve still works at full-time and Robin helps out on the weekends, a pawprint for the pet store Robin convinced him to try, and a bone for the museum where Robin was a tour guide (and now does research at full-time) and Steve worked in the gift shop.

And in big letters, going down his arm, she’s signed, “I love you dingus ❤ Robin.”

“How’s that look?”

Steve looks over it with a fond smile, the first since he reluctantly called her from the gym this morning. “It’s perfect.”

Thank you @lady-lostmind for beta reading!

Ao3 Link

#ohstars fic #steve harrington #stranger things #robin buckley #stobin month 2024 #ohstars posting challenge #platonic soulmates stobin #platonic stobin #stobin

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fairysteve · 1 year

Text

Steve spends the first week after graduation trying to find a job and himself. He goes in and out of stores, leaving applications and looking through their shelves.

His parents are home; his dad is just waiting for an opportunity to kick him out or force him into an office job depending on if he's in a good mood or not when Steve inevitably gives up.

Of course, Steve has no plans on proving his dad right by giving up. His parents didn't even have the decency to attend his graduation; they only came home to confirm his college plans, hoping for something to brag about. Steve can't count how many times he's been called a disappointment in the last week.

He comes home with a job at Scoops Ahoy and a tarot deck. His parents leave the same way they came; without telling him.

The second week after graduation is interesting. Steve spends the days working for minimal wage with a coworker that makes fun of him and the evenings trying to learn tarot.

After the first time that he successfully does a reading for himself, he starts remembering the herbal remedies his mum would use when he was young and often got sick. The more he uses the tarot deck, the more he thinks about her herb garden and books, the more aware he is of his failing hearing and vision on the left side.

The latter has more to do with his job than the tarot deck, but it does make him wonder if there's anything he can do with plants. He can't go to the hospital without risking breaking the terms of two NDAs.

So Steve finds the books his mum used and starts reading them, writing down notes for what plants would be good to start growing, for what remedies actually seem helpful. What makes for helpful teas or incense or oils, what makes for good charms to carry around.

He remembers best through repetition so he makes rituals of the most useful things; it also helps getting him to use it. Much like how his self-care routines are rituals in a way.

Steve knows people are starting to whisper about him, knows that it's strange that he's carrying around plants and a tarot deck, that he takes moments out of his day to remember to breathe and recite self affirmations like they were spells. His hair is growing longer and wilder, he tilts his head to see and hear better, he's no longer trying to repress hundreds of small things just to fit in. He's letting himself be strange, letting himself use movement to process his emotions and repeat sounds because it feels good. He stops trying to force words out when there feels like a disconnect between his brain and mouth.

It's a month after graduation when he's taking the trash out at the end of his shift and hears something behind the dumpster. There's a small kitten that seems to be screaming with how loud the meows are.

Steve has never been allowed a pet, but he loves petting Tews when he's over at Dustin's, and it would help him feel less lonely. So he takes the kitten home.

Once he has given the poor thing a bath, the kitten turns out to be completely white, and very skinny. Steve has no idea how old it is, doesn't know what he should feed it, and it's too late to take it to a vet.

He's thinking about possible names as he's going through the fridge for the milk; the only cat names he knows are Mews and Tews. He's trying to think if it has to end with -ews when his eyes land on the slices of honeydew that his mum had left behind.

Steve feels quite proud of himself for naming the cat Honeydew; it follows the one rule for cat names that he knows of, and he can call it Honey for short, which is very cute.

Dustin laughs at him when Steve first tells him about the cat, and takes to calling Honeydew for Dewey, as in the Dewey Decimal System. Steve doesn't bother correcting it; he's pretty sure Honey is deaf. It explains the loud meowing and how the cat never seem to react to noise.

He still wants to be able to communicate with his new cat, and maybe it would be good for him too, so Steve borrows any books on ASL he can find. And he makes sure that Honeydew knows that the sign for Honey is its name.

When Steve does take Honeydew to a vet, he gets it confirmed that the kitten is male, around five weeks old, and completely deaf.

Honey's eyes turn green with time (kittens all have blue eyes the first six weeks).

Steve carries Honey around on his shoulders a lot.

thanks @metalmunch for the name!

#steve harrington #autistic steve harrington #witch steve collection #i don't know how accurate the timeline is #i'll correct it in the next post if needed #honeydew the familiar

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weird-is-life · 1 year

Text

Amnesia

Pairing: Steve harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You get hurt in the battle of Starcourt and suffer a memory loss. You forget the last few months, basically your whole relationship with Steve

Warnings: language, mentions of food, memory loss, mentions of blood, hospital, panic attack, use of y/n and pet names, so much angst, fluff, a few kisses

Words: 8.6k Masterlist

A/N: English is not my first language, so please excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes

When you went to visit Steve at the mall as you did every day, you didn't even think anything could go so wrong as it did in a few hours.

As soon as you took a step inside the ice cream shop, Steve pulled you to the backroom of the Scoops Ahoy, an anxious smile on his face. The room was much more crowded than usual. Robin, Dustin, and Erica were there, heads put together in a heated conversation.

You knew straight away that something was not right. Steve tried to make you leave, but you stubbornly stayed there and somehow ended up unconscious in a Russian secret base a few hours later. You had never felt that amount of fear, as you had then.

God knows how you managed to escape from there. It was honestly a miracle since Steve and Robin were drugged.

But of course, you weren't as lucky as you thought you were. The kids stormed to the mall soon after you got out of the bunker, saying the Mind flyer was coming.

Steve tried to convince you to leave again, but there was no way you would have left all of them there.

"Please y/n, you can't stay here, you have to go!"

" No, I can't. I won't leave you here..." you argued.

" Please sweetheart, I can't have you here. What if something happened to you? I wouldn't be able to live with myself " he pleaded.

"And what if something happens to you? " you asked with worried eyes.

"I'll be fine as long as I know you are safe. Please, you need to go before it gets here" Steve was so close to just picking you up and carrying you out of there. But that wasn't necessary, you slowly nodded your head. The fear in Steve's eyes was enough to make you agree.

"Okay, I'll go. B-but promise me, you will be safe..." you had tears running down your cheeks. You were so scared for him and everybody else.

"I pro-" Steve didn't get to finish his promise, because the monster appeared in the center of the mall.

"Fuck fuck fuck. You have to run y/n, you have to get to my car and just drive far far away from here, okay?" Steve insisted.

"B-but the doors....it's right in front of it....how wi-"

"I'll distract it, so you can sneak away," Steve said it, like it was no big deal, "on three we run, okay?"

You didn't even manage to say anything and Steve was already running the opposite way.

"I love you," he said, right before he was gone, he gave you no time to say it back.

You did the only thing you could, you followed Steve's instructions. You carefully sneaked behind the Mind flyer, trying to be very quiet.

But something must have alerted it of your presence. It turned your way, away from Steve, reaching out for you.

"Y/N!" Steve yelled, but it was too late. The monster flung you against the wall, leaving you unconsciousness in a big puddle of blood.

Steve helplessly screamed your name over and over again. But you didn't move. He wanted to run to you, but Dustin stopped him.

"Let me go, Henderson!" he desperately tried to get away from Dustin's grasp.

"You will get yourself killed and that won't help her-"

"She is going to bleed out, I ha-have to get to her " Steve wasn't listening to anything Dustin was saying.

"Steve, don't you understand? Even if you get to her what will you do? The Mind flyer will kill you both. We need to get rid of it first" Dustin reasoned with him.

Steve wanted to argue, but he knew, that the only chance you had at surviving was by listening to Dustin. So he did.

When it was finally dead, he sprinted to your body. He was by your side in a matter of seconds.

"C'mon baby, open your eyes, c'mon sweet thing" he begged, tears soaking his face instantly.

"Steve we need to go!" he quickly picked you up in his arms and followed everybody outside.

The following hours were a blur for Steve. You got taken to the operating room as soon as the ambulance got to the hospital .

Steve wanted to go inside with you but he wasn't allowed to. So he sat in the hall in front of the room for hours on and on.

He was still dirty from all of your blood, but he refused to move from the chair, in case there were any news.

After the doctors were finally done, they told him everything there was to know.

Their words were like a knife to his guts. You hit your head pretty badly, loosing a lot of blood and sustaining a concussion. Your ribs weren't much better than that, a lot of them were broken along with your arm.

Steve listened to the news with dread, tears never left his eyes. It was like a nightmare.

"But she is going to be okay. I think she should be up after the anesthesia wears off," the doctor squeezed his shoulder in reassurance.

Steve almost fainted from the relief.

"Can i see her?"

"Of course, but only for a few minutes. She is going to be out for the night, she needs the rest."

But Steve wasn't listening to anything else after the 'of course'. He finally managed to do something similar to a smile and followed the doctor to your door.

You laid on the hospital bad, looking peaceful, but bruised. Your head was bandaged, arm in a sling but somehow you still looked pretty.

Steve sat down next to your bed, carefully taking the uninjured hand in his.

"Hi pretty girl," he reached out to brush a few loose strands from your face," you scared the shit out of me y'know? I thought t-that you... I'm so happy that you are okay," but Steve was looking at you and your injured body wasn't indicating that you were actually okay.

It pained him to see you this way, "I'm sorry, i'm so sorry, you should have never been there..." he sniffled.

Seeing you so hurt was like a hell for Steve. He wanted to swap places with you, he would have done anything to take your place. Anything.

He sat by your bed, talking to you, until the nurse came to ask him to leave," it appears i need to go. But i'll be here when you wake up, goodnight sweetheart, i love you."

He gave you a kiss on your cheek, there was no stopping the tears as he walked out of the room.

You woke up with a loud gasp. Nurses were around you in a few seconds, explaining everything and trying to calm you down.

You didn't remember what happened. You didn't know why you were in the hospital or why your whole body hurt so badly. Every single muscle in your body ached and your head was pounding like crazy.

The nurses told you not to move too much, so you wouldn't hurt yourself any more. They listened to your heartbeat, did some tests and left you alone for a bit.

And before you knew it, your parents were right beside you, weeping from the happiness of seeing you awake and okay.

Then they explained everything, but you had no clue what they were talking about. A mall? Big fire? Bunch of kids? Steve? Robin?

Half of the names, they mentioned were a big fucking question mark for you.

Your head started killing you even more from their confusing words. You were baffled, tired and in pain. And it definitely showed on you, because your parents were asked to leave, so you could rest some more and you were never so thankful for the sleep as this time.

Steve on the other hand was freaking out. When he came home so late at night, he took a quick shower and laid down for a short nap.

But the short nap turned into a long sleep. He woke up much much later than he wanted to.

After he saw the time, he stood up from the bed at once, swearing under his breath and rushed to the hospital. He didn't even get breakfast, the only thing on his mind was you. He hoped you were still alright, that nothing happened while he overslept.

He ran up to the room you were in and saw your parents leaving.

"Steve! What are you doing here? Didn't you go home? You should go get some sleep" your mom noticed him. Both of your parents looked even worse then him.

"I got some sleep, but i can't not be here-"his voice waivered," Is she-? "

"Yeah, she is okay, sleeping again."

"Again?" Steve questioned.

"She woke up a few hours ago, but she was very disoriented and fell asleep after like 10 minutes" your mom explained with exhausted voice. Steve realised, that both of your parents must have been in the hospital the whole night.

"Have you been here all night?" he asked them.

"Yes, we couldn't bring ourselves to leave just yet" your dad answered.

"You guys should go at least change home, i'll stay with her, i mean if it's okay with you?" Steve asked uncertainly, he hoped he didn't overstep.

"Okay with us? Of course, Steve. We would be very grateful," your mom said,"we'll be back as soon as possible."

"No need to rush, i'll look after y/n, i won't leave her side."

"We know, thank you Steve, see you soon" they waved him goodbye and left.

Steve stood with his hand on the door handle for a moment, even though he knew you were relatively okay, it wasn't easy for him. He needed to take a deep breath before stepping into the room.

Gathering enough courage, he walked in and sat down at the empty chair next to the bed.

"Hi beautiful," he took your hand, same as the day before and kissed it, "hope you're feeling better. I heard you woke up, I'm sorry, i wasn't here. I forgot to put an alarm last night, so I woke up too late," he told you.

You, of course, didn't respond and it suddenly made Steve miss your voice, not only your voice, you laugh, your eyes, just....you.

"I miss you so much, you should wake up soon or i might just go crazy" he laughed dryly, because it was only a few hours since you were smiling big at him and it was already too long for Steve, "you know what this reminds me of? That one time you refused to talk to me because i..."

Steve continued talking to you about the most random things or memories from your relationships. He was so focused on talking to you about this particular memory of taking you out for a picnic, that went horribly, because it started raining, that he didn't even notice you stirring awake.

He only realised, that you were waking up, when you squeezed his hand. He looked over to you and you were slowly opening your eyes.

"Hi, hi" he softly said. You finally fully opened your eyes and made a confused face .

"Harrington?" you tried to sit up, but Steve stopped you. "You shouldn't move too much. How are you feeling?"

"W-what's going on? Why are you here? Where are my parents?" you started asking him so many questions, you looked very perplexed.

There was something off about you, but Steve couldn't quite pin point what it was. You were looking at him somewhat coldly and distant and it made him fidget in his seat and feel uneasy.

" They went home to change, they should be back soon. D-do you remember what happened?"

"I-I-I.. no" you looked around trying to remember anything, but you remembered only some small bits of your mom's explanation from earlier? You weren't even sure, if those were real memories.

"You got hurt. The Mind flyer threw you against the wall, it was h-horrible" Steve tried to help you remember, but you looked so so lost.

"The mind flyer? What are you talking about?" you asked, hand on your forehead, because your head started to hurt.

"What do you mean?" You winced in pain," shit, are you in pain? I should probably go get the doctor -"

"No, i'm alright, i just... Why are you here Harrington?" you glared at him and pulled your hand from his grasp.

Wait, what? You glared at him, called him Harrington and pulled your hand away from him? Steve didn't know what was happening. He really hoped, you were still just confused.

"What do you mean, sweetheart? Where else would i be, if not here with you?" Steve smiled nervously at you.

"Sweetheart? Whoa Harrington, i don't know why are you here or why are you calling me a sweetheart, but you should probably leave. My parents could be here any second" you stated, still wincing from the pain.

"W-what? Y/N, this isn't funny" Steve heart was literally breaking from your cruel words. He hoped, that it was just a nightmare, he would soon wake up from.

"Yes, i agree, this isn't funny. If you think that just because i had some kind of accident and you came to visit me to the hospital, i will go on a date with you, you can forget it" every single word was like a hard punch to Steve's stomach. He felt like he couldn't breath.

"Baby, what are you t-talking about? We've been dating for a while now" he said with wide eyes.

"You can't be serious right now" you laughed, you had no idea what was Steve Harrington doing next to you, but you were 100% sure, you weren't dating him.

Steve was terrified. You were talking absolute nonsense. It was like you didn't remember him.

And then it hit him, you actually didn't. You didn't remember him. You didn't remember your relationship with him. You probably thought, he was the asshole, he used to be.

"I'm-I'm g-gonna get a doctor" Steve choked out and ran out of your room.

He grabbed the first doctor he saw and started explaining everything. The doctor listened to his ramble and immediately went to you. But not before he instructed Steve to stay outside.

Steve was burning holes in his shoes from all the pacing. He couldn't help but to worry the more time the doctor spent inside your room. By the time the doctor came out of there, Steve was an anxious mess.

"So? Do you know what's wrong?"

"Yes, it appears, that she doesn't remember certain time."

"A memory loss?" Steve voice broke.

"It looks like she doesn't remember quite a while. It happens sometimes, that after sustaining a head trauma the patients suffer a memory loss."

"B-but they will come back right?" Steve felt dizzy.

"I can't say. We need to run some tests, but there's always the possibility, that it's permanent. I'm sorry."

A big sick joke. That's how Steve felt, like the universe was playing a sick joke on him.

"So-so you're saying that she might not remember me, like ever?" Steve honestly felt like his whole world was being ripped apart.

"I'm sorry, i really can't say for sure. Hopefully, we'll have some more informations after we run the tests," the doctor said, giving him a sympathetic look before leaving him standing alone in the hall.

Steve literally couldn't breath. He felt so nauseous, he didn't know if he was about to pass out or be sick. He just knew he had to get out of there, to get some fresh air.

He quickly stumbled out of there. As soon as he was outside, he not so gracefully slumped down on the floor. He honestly didn't care about the looks that people were sending him. He was trying so hard not to panic, but it was nearly impossible.

You were his whole world, his most favorite person in the world, his best friend, the love of his life and you didn't remember him.

It felt so wrong, so fucking wrong. The look you were giving him, looking at him like he was just some stranger and not your Steve, was the most terrifying thing ever. It wasn't the monsters, the literal creatures from hell, but it was your unfamiliar even hostile expression.

Steve closed his eyes, willing the spinning of everything to go away. But the panic wasn't going away, Steve was about to throw up, when a voice spoke next to him.

A kind-looking older nurse was looking at him, "umm sir, are you okay?"

"I'm f-fine " he put on the strong face , the one he'd learned to forget around you.

"Miss y/l/n told me to find you, she wants to see you" she smiled hesitantly at him.

"Oh, o-okay," Steve wanted to get up from the ground, but his head was still spinning, so he sat right back down, "could you just give me a moment?"

"Sure, no problem, dear. Take as much time as you need" she gave him one last kind smile and left him alone.

It took him much longer than just a moment to pull himself together. Steve sat on the hard floor, the coldness of it kind of soothed his pain. Nothing hurt him physically, but his heart was literally bleeding.

He wanted nothing else just you. You to hold him close, to pick up the pieces of his broken heart. But there was no you. At least not the you, that he so desperately needed.

And you probably needed him more now than he needed you. So he picked himself up and walked the never ending (short) way to your room.

This time he didn't stop in front of the door, he just walked right in.

He found you sitting on the bed, eating some jello. A small smile crept up on Steve's face at the sight of you and the want to kiss your cute face overwhelmed him. But you noticed him soon enough and the strange expression was back on, leaving Steve to deal with the new reality. The reality that he couldn't just kiss you, because you didn't remember him.

"Hi" you said shyly.

"H-hey" Steve stuttered.

"I'm sorry for earlier, i know now, that you were telling me the truth-"

"It's okay, you couldn't know" Steve replied, looking everywhere else but you.

"Still, i can't imagine how hard this must be for you" gosh, yes it was so fucking hard for him, because you probably remembered him as a total dickhead.

"D-do you remember anything?" Steve prepared himself for your answer.

"I tried, i really did. But i.... I don't remember anything, i'm sorry. Last thing i remember is me and Nance driving to get her brother from some of his friend's house. I remember, that Nancy was so angry at him, that she kept driving in the wrong diractions," you chuckled at the memory, " i think she was angry, because someone else was supposed to drive him home, but i can't remember who... " you scowled as you were trying to figure out who it was.

Steve on the other hand was blinking quickly. He knew exactly who you were talking about.

It was Steve. Steve was supposed to drive all of the boys home, but he got held up by his parents. He was a little late, but he didn't forget to pick them up. And when he arrived at Dustin's house, you and Nancy were already there.

It was the first time, you and Steve met. He made a complete fool of himself, he was stammering over his words, flirting with you and at the same time badly failing at it. By some miracle, you guys ended up becoming friends and even with more luck, you said yes to a date with him a few months later. You should have seen him then, he was a mess, when he was asking you out. But all of that made the relationship you guys had.

So you remembering everything up until the most crucial moment of your relationship, the start of it, was even worse than it already was.

It was too much for him, Steve started hyperventilating and slowly sank to his knees.

"Steve! Oh god, what's wrong?" you were so concerned for him, that you didn't even think about your condition and sprang up from the bed to his side .

"Hey hey hey, what's wrong? Tell me what's wrong," you ignored the hot burst of pain in your head, hand and ribs.

Steve wasn't responding, he couldn't get the oxygen to his lungs, his vision was blurry and his chest felt very tight.

"Steve" you tried again and nothing,"C'mon talk to me." You were now fully panicking.

"I-I c-can't b-breath-" he barely got out.

"Shit, i'm gonna go get someone -"

"N-no," he shook his head. You didn't know what to do, but somehow your body knew exactly how to react, like you had done it before.

You took one of his hands and squeezed it lightly, letting him know you were there. "Steve, you need to breath with me, come on. In and out, in and out" you repeated the words over and over again. Steve got what you were trying to do and did it with you.

And it worked. His breathing slowly calmed down and he picked his gaze up from your intervened hands to your eyes. Realisation of what just happened struck him.

His cheeks went red from the embarrassment, you were the one, that almost died and he just had a panic attack.

"I'm sorry, so sorry" he stood up, making you stand up with him," you're hurt and here i am having a pan-... You shouldn't have gotten up from the bed." he blurted out. His hands were instantly under your knees and your torso, sweeping you off your feet and carefully setting you down on your bed.

You didn't even had time to react to it, because Steve started speaking," I'm sorry, i can't do this, i can't be here right now. I n-need to go ...This is just too much for me..." he carefully gave you a soft kiss on the forehead and left. Well not before, he bumped into your dad, apologised and ran out of there.

Steve didn't show up at the hospital for the next 2 days. He couldn't even get out of his house. Multiple people called him, he didn't answer, he ignored everybody and everything.

If you couldn't remember him, nothing else mattered to him. He didn't care about anything else.

So he drowned in the pain on his bed. But someone called him in the last few hours, so many times, that he just fucking unplugged the phone. Steve thought, that it was definitely Robin.

He also thought, that he was off the hook with her after that. That she would get the message, that he didn't want to see anyone, but he was wrong. It was Robin for godsake.

She came knocking, no not knocking, banging on his door. Steve ignored it, but when she started ringing the bell, too. He had enough.

"Go away" he muttered to her and went to close the door. Robin, the headache, that she sometimes was, put her foot in the doorway.

"Nope" she refused to move her foot even a milimetre.

"Please Robs, just... leave me alone" Steve had no strength to fight her now.

"No Steve, i'm no going anywhere. Because you are going to take a shower, get dressed, get in the car and drive to the hospital" Robin let herself in and glared at him with her hands on her hips.

"If this is all, you can go" Steve was just as stubborn as her.

"Listen, you need to go see y/n. "

"No, you don't understand. I can't. I can't be there, i just can't!" Steve sat down on his couch, running hands over his face.

"I know this is tough. I know it. I mean, she doesn't remember me, too. But the doctors ran some tests and said, that there is a very high possibility that her memories will come back. She just needs to do what she did daily and it may trigger them to come back. Meaning you need to go be with her, you two were always together" Robin reasoned with him. Steve opened his mouth to protest, but close it just as quickly.

"Okay" he murmured, already moving towards his room.

"Great! Go, i'll wait for you here. "

The drive to the hospital would have been quiet if it wasn't for Robin. She filled in Steve on everything he missed in the last two days.

Like how all of the kids came to visit you with hands full of gifts. It was a huge surprise for you, as you remembered only Mike. Robin told him, that they were very nice to you, answered every question you had and that you had fun.

Steve had a small smile on while listening to Robin's story, but he didn't say a word the whole ride.

Finally at the hospital, Steve thought about turning right back home. Robin must have sensed his nerves, because she caught his arm and dragged him to your door.

"Okay, be nice. I'll call you later," she spun around, ready to leave.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where are you going?" Steve panicked.

"Home? I have to go help my mom with... umm with a cake, bye !" She lied and quickly disappeared.

"Great" Steve sighed.

Steve, once again, just stood in front of your room, contemplating on what to do.

"Oh and one more thing" Robin was suddenly back at his side, opened the door, pushed him inside and closed it behind him.

"Oh, h-hi" your small voice greeted him.

" Hi" his features softened as soon as he took one look at you. You looked healthier and happier then the last time he saw you.

"How do you fee-"

"How are yo-" you both spoke at the same time, chuckling right after.

"You can go first," Steve said as the gentleman that he was.

"Thanks, how you've been?"

"I've been..." Steve thought about lying to you, but you always knew when he wasn't telling the truth," not great, but it's okay. What about you? Anything new?"

"I feel much better, the arm and ribs are healing, hopefully my mind will get better soon, too" you said, giving him a smile.

"T-that's great. " You two went quiet as he said it.

"Where have you been for the last two days?" you caught him off guard with that question, you thought of how it must have sounded and blushed, "i mean, given that you and i....t-that we are d-dating, i thought you'd come see me, that's all." You were blushing furiously by the time you finished. It was still very strange for you to thought of Steve Harrington as your boyfriend.

"Oh, i'm sorry. I just wasn't feeling well " yes, he lied this time and avoided eye contact with you.

"You know, your little friends were here," you changed the subject quickly.

"Yeah?"

"They told me all about you," you grinned at him.

"Did they now? Only good things, i hope" he bantered with you and took the now familiar seat next to your bed.

"To my surprise, yes" you blurted out, eyes bulging out, "Shit, i'm sorry Steve, i didn't -"

"It's okay, i understand. I was pretty much a dick" he chuckled.

"Yeah... I would never ever have guessed, that Steve Harrington is friends with kids" you teased him.

"Oh come on now, that's rude. "

"It's the truth" you giggled at his fake hurt.

"They're good kids, been through a lot" he told you and it was like his mind went somewhere else, somewhere darker for a second.

"I like them, they were fun to be with."

"Oh believe me, you wouldn't say that after knowing them longer" Steve said dramatically, "but i wouldn't have met you if it wasn't for them, so i'm grateful."

"Could you tell me about it?" you shyly asked him.

"About the first time we met?"

"Yes, please."

"It was.... -it was when you and Nancy went to pick up Mike from Lucas's house. I was the one, that was supposed to drive them home, but i was running late. So when i got there, you were already there," he took a deep breath, before he continued, "i remember, that as soon as i saw you, my mind literally went blank. You looked so fucking beautiful and i think my mind stopped working after seeing you, because i flirted with you, well i tried to flirt with you and it went terribly," he laughed,

"You basically scoffed at every pick up line or compliment i said and i thought, that was it, that I messed up everything right there. But somehow we became friends anyway," Steve had a fond smile the entire time he spoke.

"I wish i could remember it" you said and his fond smile turned to a pained one just as you said it.

"Y-yeah me too" Steve whispered, you could clearly see the sorrow, that he was drowning in. You thought about something to say to get that godawful look off of his face.

"Steve" you sweetly said his name.

"Yeah?"

"Could i... Could i maybe give you a hug?" you didn't know what went over you to ask him that, it was probably the big hurt puppy eyes.

"S-sure" were you trying to kill him? His heart almost leaped out of his chest from the thought of having you so close again.

He catiously closed his hands around your body, trying not to hurt you, because of all the injuries. The hug felt very familiar and safe, like your body recognised, that it was Steve. Your Steve. And It made you feel even worse for Steve.

"I'm sorry," you said.

"For what?"

"I just wish i could remember" you felt Steve suck in a breath, "No matter, how hard i try, everything is just pitch black." You explained.

"It's okay, it's not your fault-"

"I know, i just... I want to remember."

"There's nothing you can do, we just have to hope they will come back, right? The doctors think they will," Steve slowly (unwillingly) let you go, but still didn't move away from you.

"They also think i should get back to my normal routine."

"Yeah, Robin told me" Steve responded.

"I guess that means i have to hang out with Steve Harrington everyday" you joked, well Steve hoped it was a joke, he couldn't really tell.

" I promise you, I'm not an ass anymore. I'm much much better. You did go on a date with me, so that has to mean something" Steve convinced you.

"Relax Steve, i'm just kidding" you giggled at him.

"Oh. Right" his cheeks slightly reddened.

"Soo, what do we normally do every day?" you questioned, intrigued to know the answer.

"It depends-"

"Wait, before you start, could you go buy me a snack? The hospital food sucks" you sheepishly said.

Steve eyes warmly looked at you, before he stood up, " i'll be right back."

"Take the money from the table and can you get me K-"

"Kit kats and M&M's? Yes" he was gone, before you even got to question how the hell he knew what you wanted, leaving your money intact.

He came back with hands full of snacks, didn't waste the time and began telling you everything.

You spent one more week in the hospital, before you were cleared to leave. Steve visited you every single day. He always came with hands full of snacks and stories. Stories about your dates, about him, about your relationship.

Hearing everything about the things you did and not remembering them was frustrating. But it made you realise, why you had said yes to a date with Steve.

This Steve couldn't be more different than the highschool version of him. You learnt, that Steve was very genuine, attentive, funny and so so sweet. He constantly made sure, that you were comfortable. Like at any sign of discomfort or pain, he was up on his feet, asking if you needed a doctor, if you were feeling okay. You never felt so cared for like you did with Steve. It was honestly even overwhelming in a way.

And the pet names, god. They were actually killing you. Every time he called you by something other than your name, you were blushing madly, trying to contain the unknown feelings in your chest.

And naturally, he was the one, that drove you home from the hospital. He opened the door for you, carefully helped you in his car, drove so slowly, so nothing would hurt you and helped you out of the seat. He even offered to carry you to your room, which earned him an amused no from you.

He carried your bags in your room and left. He wanted to stay, but your mom was home to take care of you. So he gave you the absent minded forehead kiss like he always did. You didn't think, that Steve actually realised, that he did it. You didn't mind it tho, the butterflies in your stomach were a prove.

Steve left with a smile on his face, pretending that his heart wasn't actually bleeding every second you didn't remember you loved him. It was so fucking tough for him to see you without the love and adoration in your eyes.

But he pulled through anyways, he would have done anything to get your memories back. Even if it meant he would have to suffer, he didn't care, he would gladly go through hell for you, if it meant you'd remember. You were worth it, you were his everything and he needed you back.

It didn't take Steve long to call you.

"Hello?" you answered the phone.

"Hi sweetheart, i know i literally just left, but i forgot to ask. Would you like to go see a movie tomorrow?" he blurted out, making you smile," you don't have to if you don't feel like it. It's probably stupid idea, given you've just got out of hospital. Forget i - "

"Steve," you cut his rambling off, "i'd love to."

"Really?" Steve happily asked.

"Yeah..."you bit your lip to stop the ridiculous smile.

"Great, i'll pick you up around 6?"

"Can't wait" you stated.

"Me too, i'll see you tomorrow, bye sweet girl" you were glad, that Steve couldn't see you right then, 'cause you were blushing like crazy from his nickname.

"Bye, Steve."

"So, what movie are we going to see?" you stood close to Steve in the line for popcorn. Steve hand was protectively on your lower back.

"Some rom-com, ugh i forgot the name" he shamefully admited.

"It's okay, i'm just glad we are going out, i don't even remember when was the last time i went to cinema" you chuckled.

"A few weeks ago" Steve mumbled out.

"What?"

"You went to cinema a few weeks ago," Steve smiled fondly at the memory, " somehow we ended up watching a horror. You claimed, that you wouldn't get scared, it wasn't even supposed to be very scary."

"And wasn't it?"

"God no, it was too much even for me. We left like 15 minutes in" Steve said and you laughed.

"You can't be serious" you responded.

"It's the truth, i literally had to stay with you for the night, you clung to me like a koala for the whole night, not that i'm complaining" he joked, making you laugh again.

"Why would we go see such a movie?"

"I don't know, you wanted to see it and i can't say no to you" Steve grinned at you.

"Well, i hope this movie is okay."

"It is, i double checked it with Robin" he assured you.

"Good." Steve bought a huge popcorn and coke for you. He tried to buy like 5 more sweets for you aswell, but you stopped him and pushed him towards the screening room.

You took your seats in the very last row and watched the movie in silence, exchanging glances every few minutes. Halfway through it, Steve eyelids started to get heavier and heavier, until he was completely out.

You looked at the sleeping boy next to you and smiled. He looked relaxed, so you let him get the sleep, he clearly needed.

The movie was soon over and everybody was leaving, except for you and Steve.

"Steve, Steve, come on, wake up" you shook him awake. He slowly woke up, completely disoriented.

"Uh, shit. Did i fall asleep?" he groggily asked, rubbing his tired eyes.

"Yeah, but we need to go, the workers are starting to clean here. "

"Yes, we definitely should" Steve stood up, took your unharmed arm in his and carefully guided you down the steps, making sure, that you wouldn't fall. You learned, that it was always like this when you were with him, he never forgot to make sure, that you were okay.

He didn't let go of your hand even after you were away from the stairs and you found yourself wishing, that he wouldn't. Even if you couldn't remember Steve, your body definitely did. It was like your hand was made to fit perfectly in Steve's.

"Did you enjoy the movie?" Steve broke you out of your train of thoughts.

" It was good, but i certainly understand why you took the nap" you teased him.

"Sorry, guess i'm just a little tired" he yawned.

"I can see that" you softly looked at him, "are you sleeping okay?"

He nodded his head, not convincing you even a bit. But you thought, he'd say what was on his mind when he wanted to.

"Okay." You walked to his car, still hands joined together.

He let go of your hand and opened the door for you. You already missed the warmth and weight of his hand in yours.

You resisted the urge to reach for it again, when he sat down in the driver's seat. I mean, Steve would have been more than okay with you reaching out to hold his hand. He also thought about doing it, but didn't, he was the same coward as you.

So you both drove in silence, radio the only noise in the car. Steve parked the car in front of your house in no time and walked you to your door.

"Thank you for going with me" he timidly smiled at you, " I'm sorry, that I fell asleep."

"It's okay Steve, i had fun tonight even though you slept through half of the movie" you declared, making Steve chuckle.

"Goodnight sweetheart " you opened your door, ready to go inside, but in the last second you turned on your heels and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.

" 'Night Stevie." You disappeared inside, leaving a stunned Steve behind the closed door .

Steve spent all of his free time with you since you'd left the hospital. He came to you straight from work everyday, barely stopping at home to at least change his clothes. He took you on dates, on walks or just stayed in your house, talking about whatever.

And every day he asked if you remembered anything, your answer was a sad no everytime. Until one day, the day Steve invited you to a game night at Robin's.

"Y/N, we are already late. What are you even looking for?" Steve stood in the doorway of your room for like 5 minutes, looking at you as you searched for something.

"This one green sweater..." you murmured, still frantically digging through your closet.

"Green sweater?"

"Yeah, the one with the smiley face on it, remember? You gave it to me" you so casually replied, not bothering to even look up at Steve, who suddenly got a lump in his throat, "what d-did you say?"

Yes, he gave you that sweater, but it was before the accident, at the time you still remembered him.

"I said, that I can't find the sweater you gave me" you finally looked at him, the sweater in your hand and saw his big grin.

"Oh my god" he crossed the room in like a second, lifted you up and spun you around in his arms.

"Steve! What are you doing? Put me down" you giggled.

"Sorry, sorry" he lowered you to the ground, " but don't you realise?"

"Realise what?"

"You said, that it's the sweater, i gave you.."

"So?"

"I gave it to you before the accident" Steve's smile never left his face.

"Oh my god" you mirrored his reaction, "maybe i'm getting my memories back!"

"Gosh i hope so, do you remember anything else?" Steve tried to surpress his excitement, he didn't want to get his hopes up for nothing.

"No.... I'm sorry." Your happy face fell.

"Hey, it's okay. You remembered this little thing, it has to mean something good, right?" Steve caressed your cheek.

"It's just.... It's really frustrating hearing about everything i did or we did together and not remembering it" you explained with a cute pout, eyes a bit shiny. Steve didn't even realise how tough it was for you, too. He was too caught up in his sadness to notice it.

"Come here" Steve pulled you close to his chest, forcing his pained mind to shut up.

"We will get through this, you'll get your memories back. And if you won't, then i'll make sure to recreate them with you again" he whispered to your ear, holding you tightly.

"You're so cheese" you sniffled with a giggle.

"Only for you, pretty girl" he said with no hesitation, " c'mon now, Robin is gonna kill us for being so late."

"C-can you just hold me a little longer?" you shyly asked him.

"Of course, however long you want" Steve would never pass a chance to hug you, ever.

"Thank you" you said to his chest. You two didn't move from the embrace for a lot longer than Robin would have been happy about. Eventually Steve place a gentle kiss on the top of your head and moved you both to his car.

Over the course of the next days, you didn't remember much else, only some bits, but nothing big. And if you tried too hard to think about it, your head started to hurt.

"Don't do that" Steve frowned at you from the side of his bed.

"I'm not doing anything" you defended.

"You're thinking again."

"So I shouldn't be thinking?" you raised your eyebrows.

"You know what i mean" he rolled his eyes at you.

"I can't help it, it's on my mind constantly. Maybe if i think hard enough, they'll come back" it was getting worse for you, than it was for Steve. You weren't dealing it very well and Steve didn't know why.

"The only thing you'll bring yourself is a headache. "

"Right." You sighed and got back to your book. The furrow was still on your forehead, so Steve came up with an idea.

"You need a distraction" he announced, " let's go, get up"

"What kind of distraction?" Steve didn't reply, he went to his gramophone and put some Billy Joel on.

"Would you do me the honor and dance with me, my lady?" Steve offered you his hand and wiggled his brows at you.

"Steve, i can't dance!" you laughed at his manners.

"You think i can?" he pulled you up from the bed, "it doesn't matter if we can or can't dance, it's supposed to be a distraction."

"Steve, i really don't-" Steve put the music louder, shutting you up.

He put both of his on your lower back and started to move to the rythm of the slow song. And you let him, you wrapped your hands around his neck, laid your head on his shoulder and moved with him.

You didn't even know how long you stayed like that, just enjoying each other's presence. You didn't know most of the songs, but one.

Your picked your head up, when it started playing, smiling big at Steve. He had an expressions full of love on, making your pulse quicken suddenly. It wasn't the first time you'd seen him looking at you like that, but somehow it felt different. It felt more real. Maybe it was because your feelings, made it so different. You felt this very raw feelings, that made the breath hitch in your throat.

At one point looking at each other, he started to lean in as if to kiss you, but hesitated. Steve didn't want to make you uncomfortable. But you knew that, so you kissed him instead.

You pressed your lips to his, making him gasp. It took him a second to realise what was happening, but not too long. He kissed you back fiercely, so longingly, with so much affection, his hands squeezed your sides softly. You were thankful for his embrace, because you definitely lost your stability when his soft lips kissed you back.

You broke apart, when a loud thunder rumbled outside, lips swollen and both out of breath. The lightining and the thunder made you jump up in fear.

Steve spoke first, "shit, it's raining heavily, " he looked with concern from his window.

You still stood at the same spot, too overwhelmed by your emotions. You didn't know if it was from the kiss or the fact, that you hated storms.

"Hey, hey, hey," Steve immediately noticed the change in your behaviour, as always and took you hand" you okay?"

You nodded, "i just don't like storms."

"I know baby, but don't worry, nothing will happen. I'm right here, yeah?"

"I don't want to get in the car in this weather" you frowned at the window.

"We can wait a little, see of it passes or-or you can stay here. I h-have a guest room, you could sleepover. But it's totally okay if you want to wait, it's up to you" he rambled again.

"I think i'd rather just stay here, it doesn't look like it's going to stop any time soon, " you quietly said, worriedly looking at the storm, "i'll just call my parents to let them know."

"Great, are you hungry? I'll go make sandwiches" Steve smiled at you, happy that you were staying. He was mostly alone in this house, only exception was when you were with him.

"Sure, i'll put on some movie. "

"Take a look in the closet, you have a few things there. You should find something more comfortable to sleep in" Steve instructed and one look at your jeans was enough to agree with him. Altough, the few things as he said were like half of the closet.

You found some pyjamas, put on a movie and made yourself comfy in Steve's bed, waiting for him. Steve appeared a few minutes later, sandwiches in one hand and drinks in the other.

He sat down next to you and you pressed the play. The food and drinks were gone fast, leaving you with full tummy and heavy eyes.

Your tried to stay awake, but there was no fighting the sleep. Your head fell on Steve's shoulder, Steve just chuckled at you, put an arm around your sleeping form and tugged you closer to him.

You stayed like that until the movie was over. Steve then tried to as quietly as he could get away from your hold to go to the guest room.

"Where are you going, Stevie? " you broke out of your sleep.

"You can stay here, i'll go to the guest room." He said as a loud thunder made you jump again .

"Stay, please" you pleaded silently. Your voice was barely a whisper and Steve knew by your tone, that you were scared.

"Okay, come here, sweetheart" he got back under the covers and hugged you. You held him like your life depended on it, but Steve couldn't complain. He finally got a full night sleep that night, no nightmares of that horrible day in the mall walking him up. You couldn't complain either, Steve's hands around you were your safe place.

Steve got up before you in the morning. He was already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast when you woke up.

You quietly crept up on him and hugged him from the back, kissing his cheek sweetly.

"Morning, handsome!" you cheerfully greeted him. Steve reaction wasn't the same. He almost burned himself on the pan when you kissed him for the first time, the second time was when you called him handsome.

"Are you making pancakes? God, i love you" you kissed his cheek again and took a seat at the table. Steve stood frozen with a spatula in mid-air.

"Steve?"

"Steve?" you repeated, standing up again and coming up to him.

"You feeling okay?" Steve didn't know what he was feeling. Relieve? Excitement? Content? Happines like he could cry? Probably all of that.

"Where was our first date?" Steve blurted out, eyes full of hope.

"What? Stev-" you didn't understand why he was asking that.

"Where was it?"

"I-" it suddenly clicked. It was like a fog was lifted in your mind and you could finally see clearly all the memories.

"At the coffee shop. You spilled a tea all over the table, ruining both of our cupcakes. But it wasn't a bad day, i enjoyed it and did go on the second date with your clumsy ass. " There was no stopping the grins, that formed on your faces.

Steve started peppering your face in kisses, laughing madly.

"Steve stop, it tickles" you laughed, too.

"Nope, never" he chuckled loudly," never gonna let you go again."

"Is that a promise?"

"Oh definitely. Fuck, i-i can't believe you remember" your laughter died down, the realisation brought tears to both of your eyes, "h-how is it even possible ?"

"I don't know, maybe... maybe i just needed a kiss, like some princess" you joked.

"Is that so? I should have kissed you right away at the hospital then, no?" Steve literally radiated with joy, the spark in his eyes fully back.

"You should have" you agreed teasingly, "but i would have punched you, even with the broken hand."

"Oh god, you totally would. You were looking at me with such a disgust" Steve frowned at the memory.

"Sorry baby, but you can't blame me, i thought it was the old you" you ran your hand through his hair.

"I know pretty girl, i'm just so glad, you're back. I don't know what i'd without you. "

"You'd be fine. You had me falling for you again, you know?" you chuckled. Steve made it so, even too easy for you to fall in love with him again.

"Really?" he affectionally brushed your cheek.

"Yeah..." you bashfully replied, " i think, i'd learn how to love you every time."

Steve passionately kissed you, " Fuck, i love you so much. "

"Love you, too" you hugged him, hiding you face in the crook of his neck. Steve closed his eyes, he finally felt whole again, he felt at peace. He had you in his arms and that was all he ever wanted.

You started to pull away, but Steve wasn't letting go, " where are you going?"

"We need to call everybody-"

"Later, now just stay here" Steve mumbled into your hair, tightening his grip on you.

"Okay" you softly responded, feeling his tear fall down on your cheek .You stayed like that, 'till you limbs started to go numb and the food was burned. But you didn't care, you were just too happy to think about anything else, than yourselves.

...

@lokiofasgard616 @mrskeery-mclaughlin

@manuosorioh @gitchygitchygooo

Hi guys, thank you so much for reading. This took me way too long, but it's here finally. Hope you like it. Let me know what you think. Feedback is always appreciated.

Have a great day and stay safe everybody. Peace out ☀️

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington fanfic

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