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[tooearlyforthis]

Rereading this I now see that I basically rewrote TWD pilot but in the TLOU universe lmaoooo

Survivor

Pairing: bf!Steve Harrington x reader

Synopsis: (6.2k wc) Months after Outbreak Day, Y/n comes across a group of survivors that might just change her life.

Warnings: tlou!au, established relationship, fluff

masterlist || steve harrington taglist

I don't talk about this on here but TLOU is literally my favorite video game of all time so, this story kind of just happened...enjoy!

Amidst the shattered remains of a world in chaos, Y/n’s only hope was Chicago. 

It started as a rumor she heard weeks ago. A safe haven for all those who had survived Outbreak Day. She didn’t know if she believed it at first; how could anywhere be safe now? Infected over-ran most places nowadays.

But with the middle of Indiana getting worse by the day, it seemed like her only option. Part of her was still holding back, not wanting to travel far away from what used to be her home. People could still be there, her boyfriend could still be alive...

It had been months since she had seen him- since that fateful day everything went to shit. She knew the probability that he was alive was slim. That staying within the county would only put her in more danger. So if Chicago could provide a sense of normalcy, that’s where she would go. 

Her clothes were battered. A tear in her shirt, a hole in her boot. She needed to find more supplies. One pit stop wouldn’t hurt right?

Walking down the barren road, she followed an old map to where there should still be a mall. It was a risky move, going to a large place like that; but she knew she could handle it. She had found a bow and arrows a while back, perfect for a stealthy kill. And on top of that, a shotgun and pistol modified for steadier aiming. 

The mall was still intact. Which meant somewhere amongst the collapsed stores had to be never before-worn clothes. With one deep breath, she pushed the front doors open, bracing herself for what would be inside.

She was careful, stepping over glass and fallen beams in case any infected were inside. The flashlight she carried shined through the darkness like a sniper with a rifle. She made sure to keep a low stance, almost crouching as she made her way from store to store. 

It was the way hunters moved when they stalked their prey. 

Before Outbreak Day, her dad liked to show off the guns he owned. He liked using them to scare off boyfriends as they entered the house. Claiming if they stayed they were worthy to date his daughter.

But when he wasn't scaring off potential lovers, he would take Y/n  and her brother, Henry, hunting. It was almost always during duck season and she always dreaded it. But after the world had gone to shit, she was grateful for the lessons. 

Most of the stores in the mall were proving to be useless. Leftover hotdog stands and collectible shops that had no use in the new state of the world. Finally, she came across the tattered directory. Scanning it quickly, she followed the path to the nearest clothing store. 

It was a Merry-Go-Round. Not her first choice but it would do. The store was in shambles, as expected. Mannequins discarded, clothes strewn across the ground. It looked better than other places she visited, but still, it would talk a while to find something good. 

Starting in the men’s section, she opted to look through the clothes still left on the rack. Thin vests, blazers, and dress shirts- not ideal. There were still some piles of clothes that looked to be okay. 

Crouching down, she began to shift through them. It looked like most of the goody stuff was already picked through. There were some shirts that would be perfect for her, if not for the gaping holes on the torso. 

But finally, after what felt like endless piles of clothes, she found something decent. Holding the shirt up, it was illuminated by her flashlight. It was long sleeves with thick fabric- something durable for the long winter ahead. 

The color reminded her of the present she bought for her father's birthday on Outbreak Day. And in the silence of the dark mall, she couldn't help but let her mind drift back to that fateful afternoon. 

“This all for today, miss?” asked the girl at the front desk. She carefully placed the sweater picked out for her father in a box.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Y/n responded, handing over a wad of cash.

The cashier took it, putting it in the register and picking out her change. She watched as the girl struggled to keep her hands steady, trying to pick up her quarters. Some fell to the ground below them, clinging against the shiny tile.

“You feeling okay?” Y/n asked, trying to be polite more than anything else.

“Yes!” the girl exclaimed, quick to respond. 

“Maybe you’re coming down with a cold or something, I heard it’s been going around.”

“Yeah, something like that.” She held out her shaky hand for Y/n to take. “Sorry about that, have a great day.”

“You too,” Y/n replied with a smile, waving the worker a goodbye as she exited the store. Starcourt Mall was a lot busier since summer had started. The pathways filled with kids, couples on dates, and even some out of town visitors. 

Moving through the crowd, she made her way to the store her boyfriend worked in. He had started just two weeks before and wanted to wish him luck. Disappointed he wasn’t there yet, she began her walk to her car. 

It was a nice day out, nicer than it had been in weeks prior. Trying to find the keys to her car, she heard a voice call out to her. 

“I thought that was you!”

Turning around, she could see her boyfriend smiling at her as he approached the car. She couldn’t help but blush at what he was wearing. 

Giving him a quick kiss she leaned back and said, “Nice uniform.”

He cocked his head. “I can’t tell if that was sarcasm or a compliment.”

“Can it be both?”

Laughing, he pulled away from her, gripping the water bottle he was carrying. “Are we still on for tonight? Dinner and a movie?”

“Yep! I have to drop my brother off somewhere and then I’m all yours.” She leaned in close to his ear to whisper, “And wear the uniform.”

“Okay, now you’re just being mean.”

Giggling, she said, “I’m serious!”

“Mhm, sure.” He began to move away, checking his watch. “Shit, I start soon. I’ll pick you up. 6 o’clock?”

“Can’t wait.”

She watched as her boyfriend jogged off, hoping to make it to his shift in time before she got into her car. She lived a short distance from the mall, making it home in record time.

But there was something off when she stepped out of the car. The side gate to the backyard was creaked open. Her family never left it unlocked. 

Y/n threw her present on the passenger seat, approaching the gate with caution. Hawkins was a small town, and except for the two deaths in recent years prior, nothing bad had ever happened. 

Still, she kept her guard up. 

As the grassy backyard came into view, nothing seemed out of place. The shed was still locked, the glass door to the house was shut; the lounge chairs weren't moved an inch. 

Creak….

The sound of wood echoed through the backyard. She looked up at the tree house built above. 

“Henry? Is that you?” she called out to which there was no response. Henry was the only one in the family that would go up there. So if it wasn’t him…

Hastily, she moved to the gun shed, pulling out her set of keys - her dad gave her a spare in case of emergencies. She grabbed a knife, hoping it would be enough protection.

Returning to the tree house, she began to ascend the stairs. They were rickety as she reached the top; she tightened her grip to make sure she didn’t fall. Gripping the knife with one hand, she used her other to push the hatch open.

As the room came into view, she could spot a figure in the corner. She held up her weapon, ready to protect herself when she heard a whimper. They were holding their knees to their chest, rocking back and forth in a soothing motion. Her shoulders relaxed when she realized who it was.

“Henry,” she said softly, lowering the knife. “What’s wrong? Why are you up here?"

He picked up his head and she could see tears streaming down his face. “M-mom and dad…”

“Oh my god are you hurt? Let me go get them-”

“-No!” he shouted as she turned to leave. It was quiet for a moment as his eyes darted across the wooden floor. “Something….happened to them.”

Y/n felt her heart sink, automatically fearing the worst. “Stay here,” she sternly spoke. “I’ll go see what’s wrong.”

“No, Y/n please stay.”

“It’ll just be a minute okay?”

“No don’t go!” he yelled but she was already climbing down the stairs. 

She reached for the sliding back door, surprised to see it was unlocked. Yanking it open, the light from outside began to seep through the parted curtains. With the grip on her knife still tight, she stepped inside. 

She could hear the soft hum of boiling water in the kitchen, signs that someone had been there recently. 

Turning to her left, she approached the stove. The water was almost toppling over the pot, two eggs sitting on the counter ready to tossed in. With no signs of her parents anywhere, she decided to turn it off. 

There were plates still on the kitchen table. Half-eaten pancakes from breakfast that morning which were never cleaned up. Where could they have gone? Why was her brother so afraid? 

There was a vibration, almost a grumble, coming from the pantry; its wooden doors slightly ajar. She couldn’t see too far into it, blackness encasing the dry food. Reaching out she opened the doors all the way and turned on the light.

The room lit up, the shelves of canned food and snacks becoming  visible. In the center, her mother stood, hunched over with her back facing Y/n. 

“Mom?” she asked softly. There was no recognition as the grumbling continued. 

Reaching out her hand, she placed it on her mother’s shoulder. That seemed to do the trick. Suddenly, she turned around and screamed, the horrid sound erupting from her throat. Y/n stumbled backwards in shock, landing on the cold kitchen floor. 

Looking up, she could see that the woman before her wasn’t her mother. At least, it wasn't anymore. Her skin was drained of color, almost gray apart from the veins tracing down her figure. Her eyes were beat red and looked as if she had a horrid case of pink eye.

Y/n asked again, “Mom?”

Her "mother" screeched, lunging forward to attack her, its yellow teeth on full display. Y/n got up fast, running through the house, trying to see if her dad was anywhere insight. Seeing a head from the back of the couch, a sense of urgency rushed through her. 

She reached forward, tapping her father’s shoulder. “Dad, you gotta help. Something happened to mom-”

Screeeeeech

A scream scored from her father’s mouth as he stood up. Turning around, Y/n could see no recognition of her father. He too stood disheveled, beat red eyes and ice cold skin. 

Whatever was happening, it took her father too.

Her mother, still hot on her tail, dived into the room. Y/n swerved, watching as her parents collided with each other. They fell backwards, onto the glass coffee table which shattered on impact. 

She thought that would be the end of it. But it was as if the weren't hurt. They both stood up and scanned the room for their daughter. 

Sucking in one last breath, she ran. She jumped through the back door, the sounds of her parents clawing behind her. 

With a quick turn she locked the door, closing it in time for her parents to collide with the glass. They clawed, banged and scraped against the glass, their mouths pressed against it.

It was only a matter of time before it broke.

“Henry!” Y/n called out. “Come down now!”

“But mom and dad-” He protested. 

“I don’t know what happened, okay? But we need to leave. Use the side door, my car is unlocked in the driveway.”

“But-”

“NOW!” 

Not asking again, she watched as her brother descended the rickety steps. He bolted toward the back gate. 

Y/n ran toward the shed. She already had a knife tucked away in her pocket, but she needed something more. Something that would ensure their safety from whatever was happening.

She grabbed the shotgun, pistol, and as many bullet cases as she could carry. Shoving them into her pocket, she ran as fast as she could through the backyard. 

There was a crash from her left, the glass sliding door breaking. She shielded her eyes from the shattering glass and tried her best to not trip over her own feet. The gate was in sight. Just a few steps more and she would be safe. But the screams of her parent’s grew closer. Turning, she could see they were fresh on her trail. 

Without thinking, she fired the shotgun, straight into her fathers chest. He stuttered backwards before standing up straight. 

The bullet had barely affected him. 

Running fast, she bursted through the gate, stumbling for the keys in her pocket. She could see her brother waiting by the passenger door waiting to be let in. 

Gripping her keys, she opened her door, clicking the button to unlock her brother’s. He raced inside, reaching back out to shut his door when their mother bolted. 

The scream was enough to make him freeze, her arms grasping at any part of him she could get. Henry yelped, trying to pry himself away.

“Y/n help!”

Without a second to spare, she raised the pistol and fired. One shot through her mother’s head. Her heart dropped to her stomach, watching as her mother’s lifeless body slumped to the floor of the car.

Henry froze, holding back tears as their dad came barreling out of the gate. Quickly, she pushed her mother out of the car, closing the side door and driving away. Her adrenaline was pumping, her body moving faster than her mind. 

“Y-you shot mom,” Henry said with a whimper.

“She…” Y/n didn’t know how to respond. “That thing wasn’t our mom, at least not anymore.”

“What happened to her?”

“I don’t know.” They turned out of the street, driving almost aimlessly as she tried to think of a place to go. As they moved toward the denser part of town, she saw people emerge from their homes. Suitcases loading into trunks and distant yells she couldn’t make out. “Whatever happened, it looks like we weren’t the only ones."

Letting her memories drift away, she shoved the new shirt into her back and headed toward the shoes. There was a giant hole in her left boot held together only by duct tape. 

Crouching down again, she began to sort through. There were sandals and high heels, every shoe that was not fitted for an apocalypse. She was about to grab another box when a noise sounded from behind her.

She recognized it immediately - a clicker. Quickly, she moved behind a chair, a hand on the bow on her back.

After a couple months of surviving in this new world, the people who turned got worse. They started as “runners,” fast moving and ready to strike. But soon, turned into something much worse. 

Their pace slowed,  faces falling apart as cordyceps grew through. They stopped using their eyes and started relying on their ears. Any sound could alert them, so moving slow was vital. 

There were things worse than a clicker - stalkers, bloaters and shamblers. But a clicker needed to be shot in the head - that was the tricky part.

Peering up from behind her chair, Y/n tried to pinpoint where the clicker was. It was dark, almost too dark to make anything out, but she spotted it. Inching forward, using its echo location to track its prey. But she wouldn’t be prey today.

Slowly standing up, she drew her bow and an arrow from her back, bringing it up to strike. She could use a gun, but there was no telling what else could be lurking nearby. Not something she wanted to risk, she pulled the bow tighter until her hand was flush against her cheek.

One arrow, that’s all she needed. With a deep breath, she let it loose, watching as it flew through the air, piercing the clicker right in its head. It fell to the ground, letting out one last cry before going silent. 

Y/n sighed as she walked over to make sure it was dead. It was; lying still on the ground next to a shoebox. Squatting down, she opened it, happy to find a pair of combat boots in almost perfect shape. She was about to grab them when the sound of glass echoed from behind her. 

Something is here. 

Without thinking, she shot up from the ground and readied her bow to strike. 

“Don’t shoot, we're friendlies!” 

Her flashlight shined across what made the noise. It was a girl, probably around her age with light brown hair and freckles splayed across her face. Next to her, a boy, around 14 with a trucker hat masking his curly hair underneath.

“We’re not here to hurt you,” the girl said, her arms raised on either side of her head.

“How do I know that?” Y/n asked, not trusting a word from the strangers across from her. Next to her, the boy slowly raised his hands and she could spot him holding a revolver. She aimed her bow at him. “Drop the gun.”

He stayed still, not listening to her words as he squinted from the shine of her flashlight.

“I said drop it!” she repeated.

The girl shouted at him. “Henderson, drop it!”

“Fuck okay!” the boy, Henderson, shouted. Letting the revolver hit the glass below their feet. 

“We mean no harm,” the girl said again. “Just passing through for supplies.”

Y/n directed the bow back at her. They did nothing that proved they were going to hurt her. But after months of traveling through the state, months of running into awful people. It was hard to trust anybody.

“Please just- lower the bow,” the girl asked.

“I don’t know if-”

BOOM!

There was an explosion behind them. The wooden panels of the try-on closets collapsing. Y/n covered her mouth to stop herself from inhaling any dust. As she did so, a low grumble emerged from the ruins. Looking up she spotted it. 

There are worse things than a clicker, and one of them was standing right in front of them.

“Bloater!” Henderson yelled, bending down to pick up his gun.

“Run!” the girl shouted. 

Y/n had no time to second guess their intentions, running after them. They headed toward the stationary escalator. She watched her steps, running down into the center courtyard of the mall. The grumble of the bloater was still loud, enough for her to know it was following them.

Waiting for the it to reach them, Henderson climbed up the empty water fountain. He was trying to get a better vantage point, poking his head around once up top. The girl was off to the side, shooting a runner who had emerged from all the noise. 

“You think you can fight?” the girl asked.

Nodding, she grabbed the shotgun off her back and reloaded it. “Of course,” she told them.

Henderson shouted from atop the fountain. “It’s coming!”

Looking over, the two girls watched as the bloater appeared at the stop of the escalator. It was bigger than she originally thought. Standing at almost seven feet, armored plates of fungus covering its body. It gripped a piece of fungus, pulling it off and launching it at them.

“Spore bomb!” she shouted, thinking it was too late. It hit Henderson, making him fall back off the tower of the fountain and into the empty cavern below. 

The bloater was already moving, descending the staircase as she fired shots at it. The girl threw something from behind her, a molotov. It exploded on impact with the infected monster. 

It stumbled back on the stairs, giving Y/n more time to reload her gun. But the monster was far from killed.

The girl launched another molotov, and then another, but it still wasn’t enough. The bloater threw another spore bomb at them. Y/n dodged out of the way at the last second, taking cover behind a bench. She fished through her bag, finally finding what she was looking for.

Standing up, she watched as the bloater began to charge. She threw a can right into its chest. It bounced off him, landing on the floor below its feet. The bloater paused for a moment, before ready to move on. 

But that’s when it went off. The can exploded, piercing the creature with hundreds of nails. Y/n walked forward, watching as it fell to the floor with one last dying breath. She walked up to it, examining the corpse to make sure it was gone for good. Thankfully, it was. 

Peering over her shoulder, she searched for her two new companions. The girl was kneeling before Henderson on the edge of the fountain, his leg pulled up to reveal a nasty burn.

“That was pretty cool,” the girl said, grabbing a bandage from her bag. “What was that?”

“A nail bomb,” Y/n replied. “Made it myself.”

“Shit really? We could use some of those. I’m Robin by the way. This is Dustin.”

“Y/n,” she greeted them, turning to Dustin. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “I will be. We have more supplies back at base.”

“Are you alone?” Robin asked. Y/n nodded before she could think about how answering might not be the best move. “Our base is a few miles away. About 50 people but we have plenty of space. You’re welcome to join us if you want. Right Dustin?”

“Oh yeah,” the boy replied eagerly. “We could really use you. That was badass.”

Y/n smiled, looking down at her tattered boots. She was never able to grab those new shoes. “I-I’m supposed to be heading up north. To Chicago.”

“The safe house?” Robin asked to which she nodded. “It’s no good. Runners overtook it weeks ago. We heard it on the radio back at base.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah so…you wanna join? I promise we don’t bite.”

It was a tempting offer. A stable place with medical supplies? It didn’t get much better than that. Her plan was to head north, to make sure her brother was safe. But now, there was no point in going there, especially if it was overtaken with infected.

“Sure,” Y/n agreed, the grip on her backpack tightening. 

Dustin cheered. “Awesome! Though you guys might have to help me get out of here.”

“Yeah, of course.”

She moved to one side of the boy, Robin to the other. Together, they hoisted the boy up, letting him rest his arms on the backs of their shoulders. 

“Are you going to be able to walk that far?” she asked, reaching for the door at the exit of the mall.

“We have a car waiting out front,” Robin informed her. 

“Really?”

“Yeah we have a couple of them. Electricity and running water too.”

Together, they pushed on the heavy doors. Light shined through brighter than they had anticipated. Y/n brought a hand up to shield her eyes as they adjusted to the new surroundings.

“What happened?” asked a new voice. Y/n was quick to reach for her pistol but Robin was greeting the voice in a casual manner. She guessed he waited out front with the car.

“Bloater,” Robin informed the voice. 

Y/n finally let her eyes drift up to meet this new stranger, or at least she thought it was a stranger. In front of her stood none other than Sheriff Jim Hopper. She felt stunned, stopping as he moved forward to lift the boy up with ease.

“I don’t need to be carried, Hop!” Dustin shouted.

“It sure looks like it,” the sheriff responded, walking back toward the car. It was his truck, bold letters printing Hawkins Police on the side. 

Still in shock, Robin walked up to her. “You can put your stuff on the bed of the truck back there.”

Nodding she did so before climbing in the back with Dustin, Robin heading to the passenger seat. Once settled, she looked forward to see the Sheriff staring at her.

“You’re Sheriff Hopper, right?” she asked, needing to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating.

His eyes squinted. “Do I know you?” he asked before turning to look at Robin. “Who’s this?”

“This is Y/n,” the girl responded. “She helped us with the bloater there. Would’ve been toast without her.”

He turned back to her. “How do you know my name?”

Stumbling over her words, Y/n was finally able to say, “Y-you were the sheriff in my hometown. You know, before all this.”

Dustin’s head whipped toward her. “You’re from Hawkins?” She nodded. “So are we!”

“Really?”

“Holy shit what are the odds!”

As Hopper pulled out of the mall parking lot, he cranked his head back to address her. “Most of the people at our base are from Hawkins. Some from Bloomington, Stockdale, places nearby.”

“Cool,” she said, looking out the window at the trees passing by. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she had been in a working car. It was hard not to have hope, that someone she knew could be waiting at this compound for her. But the odds were still slim, even if there were people from her hometown. 

“Wait, did you go to Hawkins High?” Robin asked, looking back at her. 

“Yeah, I just graduated,” she told her.

“Oh my god we overlapped for three years! I wonder if we had any classes together.”

"Before we get into more chit chat," Hopper interrupted. He angled his head to address Y/n. "You're alone? No one is tracking your movements?"

Y/n sighed, looking down at her lap. "Yeah," she said mournfully. "I'm alone."

“Are you sure this is safe?” Henry asked as he limped up to the front door.

It was a suburban home, just outside of town. The white exterior made it seem friendly, more approachable.

“Yeah, Aunt Margaret is out of town, remember?” Y/n replied, scanning the front porch. “There should be a key around here somewhere…” Lifting a rock, she spotted it. “Here!”

The house was still intact, nothing out of place. Y/n let her shoulders slump, relieved to find a place that wasn’t overrun with…well, whatever was out there. They passed more people on the way to their aunt's house. Some were screaming, others tried to run to their car…

Something was happening and she didn’t like it one bit.

“Sit on the couch,” she told her brother. “I’m going to look for stuff to disinfect that wound.”

Nodding, she watched as her brother limped over, a trail of blood left behind from his right leg. She searched through the kitchen for anything to clear his wound. There were paper towels, pain killers, but no first aid kit in sight. 

Making do with what she had, she grabbed anything she thought could be useful. When she went back to her brother, she saw he had turned on the tv, an emergency broadcast playing on every channel.

“This is a national broadcast. Warning: stay inside, don’t answer the door for anyone. There have been reports of crazed people. Stay away from anyone that has been bitten….This is a national broadcast-”

She felt her brother shiver from his spot next to her. Instinctively, she wrapped her arm around him. “Hey,” she consoled, “everything is going to be okay.”

“You don’t know that,” he replied softly, his head lowered to the ground. 

There was a look on his face that she couldn’t quite place. It wasn't fear or shock, but almost an acceptance. An acceptance that the world had gone to shit and there was nothing they could do to stop it. 

Rather than lie to the impressionable boy, she opted to say, “...no I don’t. But I have faith that we will be okay. And that’s all I can do.”

His eyes finally drifted up to meet hers, that same look across his face. His lips pressed together forming a tight line before he finally exhaled. Without another word, he lifted his pant leg.

Peering down, she felt her breath hitch. Plain as day, was an outline of a bite mark etched into his calf. The blood that had trickled down his leg was already dry. It covered up veins that had already begun to pulse rapidly. 

Y/n’s mouth fell open, not able to form anything to say. Stay away from anyone that has been bitten. Those words from the broadcaster echoed in her mind. 

“You may have faith,” Henry began, “But I don’t.”

The ride to their base was short. 

Robin pestered her with all sorts of questions. What classes she took, and where she lived. They did end up having a class together. Ceramics her sophomore year. 

As they turned down a dirt road, Hopper informed Y/n they were almost there. 

“You’re gonna love it,” Robin told her. “There are others that went to Hawkins high too. Maybe 5 of us. One that just graduated as well, you might know him.”

“Yeah, maybe…” she replied. “I stuck mostly to myself though; I doubt I would recognize anybody.”

“Well, you never know.”

“Look, there it is!” Dustin exclaimed, pointing out his window. 

Leaning over next to him, she peered out to look at the base. It was a tall square building with a fenced perimeter. Most of the windows were still intact, the ones that weren’t were patched up with wooden planks. On the side of the building, decrepit letters that used to read Roann Laboratory. 

“It was a research lab, before all this,” Hopper said. “I was here when it all went down. Fortified it. We’ve been here since then.”

Approaching the gate, Hopper waved through the window to a guard. They waved back, pressing a button to open the gate for them. 

“Shit, you really do have electricity,” she commented. 

“We found a way to turn the power plant back on a few months ago. Barely had any infected encounters since then.” 

“That’s amazing.”

Driving around to the far side of the building, the truck pulled into the giant garage doors. It was clear it used to be some loading area. but now, watching as the doors lifted, she could see regular cars parked inside.

The truck came to a stop, Hopper moving out quickly, to grab Dustin who was still insisting he was fine to walk. 

Robin turned to her. “Grab your stuff and I’ll show you around.”

Y/n nodded, pushing open the door and moving to the truck bed. Her stuff had rolled around but she found that nothing was too out of place. From the front of the car, she could hear someone approaching them.

“What happened to Dustin?” said the male voice. It sounded familiar.

“Spore burn,” Robin replied. “We ran into a bloater.”

“Shit, is he okay?”

“Yeah, it’s not too bad. Could have been worse but the newbie helped kill it.”

“Newbie?”

“Yeah, ran into this girl at the mall, helped out big time. Another Hawkins survivor, believe it or not.” She could hear Robin shout for her. “Hey, where’d you go?”

“Just grabbing my bag!” Y/n yelled back, stepping out from behind the truck.

It was as if time stopped. 

Her eyes drifted up, landing on the guy standing next to Robin. The realization of who it was almost too much to handle. She felt herself inhale sharply, trying hard to make sense of the situation. 

Her boyfriend, Steve Harrington, was standing in front of her.

She watched him freeze, his eyes fixated on her as she let the backpack fall to the ground with a thud. His eyes began to water, his lip trembling as he tried to speak.

“O-oh my god,” he said in almost a whisper. His hand reached up to his chest, as if it was becoming hard to breathe.

She stayed still, finding it hard to move any part of her body. 

“You know each other?” Robin questioned, not knowing what was going on.

Steve didn’t answer her, only beginning to move toward her. At first it was small movements, but quickly broke out into a run. 

Tears streamed down her cheeks as his body collided with hers. She gripped at the fabric of his jacket, digging her nails into his back as they held each other. He picked her up by the waist to hug her tighter- she didn’t think he’d ever let go. And she didn’t want him to.

Reluctantly, he placed her down, pulling apart just enough to see her face. Looking her up at down, trying to wipe away his own tears of relief, he asked. “N-no bites? You’re okay?”

She nodded, cupping his cheeks with her hands. “I… I thought you were dead,” she cried out.

“I thought you were. The walkie I gave you-”

“-had to leave it behind. My parents turned on day one…” 

It was hard to stop the tears that were continuing to stream down her face. Taking his thumb, Steve wiped them away. Staring down at her, his brown eyes meeting hers, he couldn’t help himself.

He leaned forward, capturing her lips. It was hungry, a desperation behind him from being separated for so long. The fear that the worst had happened melted away. The urgency faded, as all she could focus on was the soft feel of his lips. They were chapped but she didn’t mind, knowing hers were too. 

Even in his arms, his lips pressing against hers, she couldn’t stop herself from continuing to cry. At the feel of the first teardrop on her cheek, Steve pulled back. 

“Hey,” he soothed. “It’s okay. I’m safe right? We’re safe.” She nodded, unable to form words. “Where’s your brother.”

It was hard not to cry again as she shook her head. “Gone, he got bit by my parents.”

His eyes went wide. “You’ve been on your own? This entire time, you’ve been out there by yourself?”

She attempted to reply, being cut off as Steve hugged her again. Her hands found their place flat against his back. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I should’ve gone out looking for you.”

“It’s okay, you thought I was dead.”

“No, it’s not!” He pulled back to see her face, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes. “You are never leaving my side again okay? Never.”

“Never,” she repeated, a smile slowly forming. It felt wrong to be this happy when the world around them was in shambles. She didn’t want to take this moment for granted.

They had completely forgotten they weren’t alone. The sound of a throat clearing pulling them out of their trance. Steve turned his head, Y/n looking over his shoulder at Robin who was still standing a few feet behind them.

“Care to explain?” she asked.

“Oh right,” Steve began, taking Y/n’s hand and leading her over to the other girl. “You guys have already met but, Robin, this is my girlfriend.”

He turned to Y/n. “Robin and I were working in the mall together on Outbreak Day. Remember you were gonna come visit me?” She nodded in recognition.

“So,” Robin started, crossing her arms against her chest. “This is the famous girlfriend you never shut up about.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I talk about you a lot.”

“You were right, she is a badass.”

“Thanks,” Y/n said sheepishly. 

She felt Steve’s touch fall from her hand. Looking back she saw him grab her backpack. “Let me take this. Rob and I have a full floor to ourselves. And she doesn’t mind adding one more person right?”

“Hey,” Robin said, raising her hands. “After what you did in that mall, you could kick me out for all that I care.”

“Oh I’m not gonna do that!” Y/n protested but Robin already began to walk away.

Steve drew back her attention. “Let’s get you showered and a new pair of clothes. We have running water - warm too.”

She smiled. “So I’ve heard.”

He smiled back, still in shock that his girlfriend was alive and in front of him. Overcome with emotions, he leaned back down and kissed her one more time. It was short and sweet, but still felt like an eternity.

“We have a lot of time to make up for,” he said, taking her hand once more.

Closing her fingers around his, she looked back up at him. “Yes we do.” 

[tooearlyforthis]

Steve & Max

The big brother she always wanted but didn’t always have ❤️

[tooearlyforthis]

I love having parasocial relationships with my mutuals like yea we don’t talk at all but that is literally my homie I don’t get how that’s hard to understand

[tooearlyforthis]

*reading my own writing* wow this really does cater to all my specific needs

[tooearlyforthis]

sometimes you have a shower thought so dumb you just gotta draw it

[tooearlyforthis]

Pinch Me

After your first date with a familiar face from home, waking up next to Steve feels like something out of a dream. 

or

This is a follow on from Clean Slate but can be read as standalone fic. 

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings/Content: Both you and Steve are in your late-twenties and were in school together; you met again on a blind date almost ten years later. This is an 18+ fic; oral (reader receiving), penetrative sex. Spoiler but use of ‘good girl’ in a sexy content. Steve Harrington being a smooth mf comes with it's own warning.

I have tried to leave physical descriptions as neutral and inclusive as possible! Some mentions of anxiety and insecurity. Plenty of kissing to make up for that! 

Author’s Note: Clean Slate was intended to be a one off fic but here we are! This is my first attempt at smut in a fic, so hopefully it’s not horrendous! Thank you for reading, enjoy!

Thank you to my lovely @specialagentmonkey for beta reading for me💖

Once again, this is an 18+ fic. Please do not do any AI fuckery with my work or repost on other sites.

(divider by me)

Ever since you were little, your bed had been one of your favourite places. Soft sheets, books on the bedside table and a perfectly curated stack of pillows all topped off with the quilt you had made with your grandma before her arthritis got too bad. 

In your mom’s photo albums there was more than one snapshot of you as a sleepy toddler with a wild bed head peeking up from your pillow on Christmas morning. Another few of you reading Nancy Drew in a pillow nest with a gap toothed smile. 

By now, you had made your own little nest out in the big bad world now; a surprisingly roomy studio with big windows and noisy neighbours on one side. You had bought new sheets and a duvet printed with dusty pink roses on porcelain white cotton, curated a new stack of pillows and added too many decorative cushions on top of the same quilt that had made the move with you to Indianapolis and on to Chicago. There were still books on your bedside,  a little dish for your jewellery to sit in while you slept, and an accumulation of lip balms, pillow mist and a candle or two to set the mood. 

After long shifts and bad dates, your bed was still your haven. When you were particularly anxious, you could still hear the shrill of your old alarm blaring in your ears; the sound of that clock that had dragged you from sweet dreams in your beloved bed on chilly winter mornings. Some mornings, as you rode the subway to work, you swore you could hear your bed’s own siren song calling you to get off at the next stop, come home to read and nap the day away. 

The sanctuary was for you alone, save for an occasional sleepover with your best friend Annie. Your dates were never invited to stay and make themselves comfortable. But this morning, waking up with Steve Harrington in your bed? That was new. 

It was safe to say that your blind date went well. Really well. 

You had resolutely avoided talking about school, only mentioning people each other might have remembered in the context of a story about your lives outside Hawkins. Steve was still in touch with a lot of people from home. You recognised some of their names; Robin who grew up a street away from you, Eddie Munson who you knew from art class and the occasional house party in your youth, even Nancy Wheeler. The way he lit up with so much fondness for ‘his kids’ who weren’t kids anymore made your face ache from smiling.

And Steve had listened, wanted to hear how you had liked Indianapolis for college (he had spent some time there too before making the move to Chicago with Robin after Eddie had sussed the place out and found an apartment near his own for them that they still shared). He had asked about your job, your life in the city, and took a real interest in you. 

His attention had stayed on you, never straying to see who else was around or looking for an escape route. His honeyed gaze had stayed focused, watching how you used your hands when you spoke and dipped occasionally to look at your lips. Steve’s hand had stayed close by when his fingers weren’t outright intertwined with yours. He did this thing with his thumb, stroking it across the bone of your wrist, and a few times he had squeezed your hand while you spoke as if to say ‘go on, I’m listening’ - it was so centering for your often anxious mind.

You had a few more drinks, picked a few songs on the jukebox, kept talking and talking until you were sitting close enough to hear Steve’s stomach growl, making his cheeks flush pink. 

“I know a pizza spot close by if you’re hungry?” you suggested. 

“DiFontaines?” Steve smiled a little, nodding at your suggestion. “Yeah I love it. Let’s go.”

Neither of you wanted to end the night yet, say goodbye. So you didn’t. Instead you headed hand in hand into the warm night air, nicely buzzed and in search of hot pizza and crispy cold sodas. 

The sun had dipped in the sky, taking the worst of the heat with it, but the night stayed humid and sticky. Despite the warmth, Steve held your hand and between stories, as you walked down the next block, he lifted his arm to twirl you when you passed a bar blaring Achy Breaky Heart onto the street; Billy Ray’s crooning was eclipsed by your laughter. 

“You’re such a dork,” you giggled, pushing him gently before Steve quickly hugged you against his side again. Never had you felt so comfortable on a first date - but this wasn’t just any blind first date. 

“Dork?! You been talkin’ to Robin?” Steve smiled down at you, sparking heat in your belly. 

“Guess your reputation precedes you, Harrington.” With a burst of bravery, owing it to your younger self, you bounced up on your toes to peck his cheek before taking off a few steps ahead, turning to grin back at him as he jogged to catch up before you swerved into the pizza place. 

You joined the line of late night pizza lovers and Steve had slipped an arm around you, leaned his chin on your head as your heart pounded hard. “So, what’re we getting?” he asked.

The familiarity of it all made you feel fuzzy around the edges, his thumb stroking your shoulder, the heat of him pressed against your side. 

“It’s probably sacrilegious but the New York style slice, veggie or… artichoke.” Feeling brave again you cover his hand with yours and squeezed. “You?”

“Okay so we’re both sinners then.” He hummed, considering his options. “You’re vegetarian right?”

“Yeah, I try to be.” You liked how he had remembered a tiny detail from a story told hours ago.

“Okay. Four cheese then.”

“You sure?” Your interest piqued. 

“Yeah, ‘course. You might not want a goodnight kiss if I have pepperoni breath.”

You swear your jaw dropped as Steve schooled his smile, watching the group of tipsy tourists ahead of you order their slices before his eyes darted back to you. 

Steve was more timid, his voice quieter as he filled the silence between you when you had been too stunned to answer. “It’s also totally fine if you don’t want to kiss me, sweetheart. I know I can lay it on ki-“ 

Instead you rocked up to close the gap between you, ignoring the pinch of your sandals to lay a kiss onto his lips. Steve was quick to cup your cheek, keeping you there to kiss you back just as sweetly. 

His nose has nudged against yours before he let you go, gazing into each other’s eyes until your attention was pulled to ‘order or get out’. His arm had stayed around you as you placed your orders, splitting a third classic deep dish slice between you so you wouldn't be run out of town with torches and pitchforks. 

Full of pizza and soda and bravery, you had taken Steve’s hand again and strolled through the sticky Chicago night, steering him toward your apartment with the guise of proving that the same pink scrunchie you wore in high school was in fact on your bedside table. You both knew what you were really suggesting. 

Part of you niggled away, expecting him to make a polite excuse to head home instead. But Steve only had eyes for you and sealed the deal with another kiss. You lost yourselves in each other, feeling younger together, and made out with Steve’s back against the shutters of somewhere long closed for the night as he squeezed your hips and you toyed with the ends of his hair. It was with regret that he had to tear himself away from your lips to hail a cab for you both, where you did your best to behave on the way to your apartment.

As you lay in bed that next morning, watching how Steve’s chest rose and fell with breath, how soft he looked in sleep, you felt warm and happy. His golden glow was just as dazzling in the morning light.  

Your night together had been unrushed. Steve hadn’t just hit it and quit it with you. No, instead you had kissed and kissed, making out and letting your hands roam like two teenagers except there was no hurry; no seven minute deadline or someone pounding on a guest room door to see if it was occupied. The rumours in school had been true; Steve Harrington was an amazing kisser. You had listened to a friend of a friend rave about his soft lips after a lucky spin the bottle in junior year; now you had tasted him for yourself, you understood why she had brought it up so much. But Steve was in your bed now, not hers, you thought smugly. 

On the way from the couch to your bed, he had unzipped your dress and you made sure his powdery blue shirt wouldn’t be too creased in the morning, draping it over the back of a chair instead of leaving it balled up on the ground. 

Steve had made sure you knew how beautiful he thought you were, kissed you everywhere before taking his time with you and spent an age between your legs as he worked you open for him. Lying there the next morning, you could feel your face heat up when you remembered how his touch set you on fire. The pleasant all over ache weighed you down into your mattress. 

With a messy bed-head, Steve woke a little after you and saw you smiling dreamily to yourself. He reached out to pull you closer, tucking his face into your neck. 

“Mornin’.” His voice was gravelly and deep. 

“Morning.” You brush his hair back gently and dot a kiss to his forehead before stroking your fingers over his shoulders soothingly, dragging them down his arm.  

“S’nice,” he said, lips moving against your neck before he pressed a few kisses there. 

Lying face to face on your pillow, your fingers played with the fine gold chain that settled around his throat, dipping lower into the thick hair on his chest. 

“I had a really good time last night.” Steve’s fingers walk up your arm, before twirling your hair around one carefully. 

When you look up at him, he’s got this little smile on his face. He inches closer, letting his gaze drop to your own smiling mouth before you share a slow morning kiss. 

“Me too,” you whisper, settling your hand on the side of his neck before returning his kiss again. Your fingers skate across and behind the lobe of his ear, the underside of his jaw and the shade of stubble there. 

With his large soft hands, he drags you closer still, pressing you right up against him. The t-shirt you had pulled on after the sweat on your body had started to cool last night was rucked up over your hip as Steve’s thumb strokes the dip there. 

You sigh into his mouth, feeling warm all over despite the chill of your box fan to cool the room down. This morning you're warmed by the heat and glow that radiates from Steve Harrington, hotter than the sun itself. 

“You’re really beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips, shifting his weight so you’re on your back again with one of his thighs slotted between yours. Steve brushes your hair back, fanning it out over the pillow before dipping down to kiss you again. He leaves you breathless before his lips trail lower to your jaw and neck. 

It’s an intimacy you hadn’t had with anyone in a long time, feeling safe enough with Steve to let yourself be loved on like this. You will yourself to be present with him, bask in his glow as it warms you, but barbs of anxiety have crept in to distract you.

Last night was amazing, slow and syrupy and tender. If that had been the last time you ever saw Steve Harrington you could have probably died happy - happier than before anyway. But instead he stayed, and as he kisses you again (morning breath ignored and forgotten). Steve didn’t care that you had faded into the background of your shared high school halls, he had loved how you had the bravery to break out of Hawkins and be you now. 

Steve notices you tensing up and peels himself back, thumbing your cheek again as he says your name. “Do you want me to stop?” he asks, concern in his eyes. It makes your heart ache. 

You shake your head and cover the hand on your cheek. “No. Never.” You pull him to you again and relish the weight of him on top, your hands over his shoulders. “I’m getting in my head. You’re straight out of a dream, Steve. I feel like asking you to pinch me.”

You feel a little embarrassed about being quite so honest with him like this, but he oozes a magnetism and calmness that makes you want to tell him everything. But you don’t want to scare him away, be left waiting for another call that’s not coming, or hear him say ‘that was fun but I’m not looking for anything serious right now’. 

He smiles and leans his weight on one strong arm so he’s not totally crushing you. “I can, if you want. But I promise I’m real. And I’m just some guy.” 

You laugh. “Some guy? Nah Steve, I think you might be some sort of apparition. Or like, a Greek god.” You squeeze his bicep for emphasis. “Definitely dreaming.”

Steve rolls his eyes, playful, and pinches your cheek lightly. “See? Silly.” He presses a kiss to where he pinched before going in for another on your smiling mouth. Steve was not shy or stingy with his kisses, you had learned. You liked that a lot. 

“I think you’re pretty amazing, y’know. If you’re not sick of me yet, would you wanna go for breakfast with me?” Steve kneels up between your thighs, the sheets pooling around his hips. Your eyes go right to the white Calvin’s pulled tight over the thickness of him. Your eyes rake up over his body until you’re caught staring, ogling, and Steve smiles when you pull a pillow over your face. You certainly hadn’t been so shy last night; he laughs and lifts it away to gaze down at you, hoping you will say yes. 

“C’mere. Then you can take me for breakfast.” You coax him back down, hooking one leg over his hip. “Prove to me again that you’re not just in my imagination?”

Steve grins and rolls himself down over you. “You been imagining me like this? Scandalous,” he teases before resuming his kisses from earlier, which you are eager to return. Your bodies move together, hips tilting toward each other seeking out that pressure that makes your tummy sizzle. As Steve’s hands slip under your sized-up sleep shirt again, your own dips down to cup him through his underwear. His breath hitches, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Baby…” 

Baby. 

You smile and repeat the movement firmer this time before beginning to coax him to hardness, breaking your hold on him only to help him remove your tshirt. It’s lost to the floor along with Steve’s briefs. His breath is hot against your mouth as your bodies press together. The feeling of Steve’s hands on your breasts draws out a whine that’s swallowed by another kiss; his hands are so big and they feel like they are everywhere, like Steve is everywhere. His mouth and hands trail lower, spreading you out for him on your dusty rose bedsheets. He cups you there, thumb swiping in a delicious rhythm that has you gasping against his shoulder. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, kissing the tops of your breasts. “Let me hear those pretty noises again, baby. Please?” 

You whimper as his fingers ease you open, so gentle like the polite ‘please’. Steve had proven he was a talker already last night, his words making you feel hot all over as he had pushed so carefully inside, turning tipsy giggles into needy gasps. You felt the same heat engulf you now as he lay wet kisses to your tummy, your hips, pausing only so that he could lie comfortably between your thighs after shouldering his way between them. 

He’s looking up at you, his cheek against the meat of your thigh. Lips curve into a smile when you meet his gaze, and he closes his eyes when you stroke his hair back. One of his hands takes yours and rests together on your belly as he dips to kiss you where you need him, humming against you when you gasp his name. 

Your eyes drop closed, fireworks bursting behind them as he makes you feel so good. The once or twice any other man had done this was lacklustre in skill and enthusiasm, which Steve possessed in every cell of his being. When you chance looking at him you spot his hips shifting against the mattress, chasing relief for his own ache which makes you moan louder. His whispered “good girl” sends your eyes rolling back into your skull. 

Steve brings you to your peak quicker than anyone ever had before. Mindful that you might be a little tender from the night before as he presses one long and thick finger inside before a second joins it a few moments later, gentle but with a purpose of making you forget your own name. His shoulder presses firm against your thigh, spreading you wider as his fingers pump steadily, keeping the pace and press against the spot inside you that makes you feel fit to explode. 

You squeeze his arm while your capacity for coherent speech vanishes, focusing only on the swirl and suck of his mouth and the crook and curl of his fingers. It’s so sudden, and you swear you’ve never made a noise so loud as you moan for him, trembling all over. He whispers his praise against your thigh before bringing his mouth back to where you’re weeping for him and doesn’t stop until your thighs are crushing his ears, muffling your voice. 

Chest heaving, you feel him move up to check on you. He brings you close, holding you as you glow with him and presses feathery kisses to your hairline. “You still with me? Not still dreaming about me?” 

“Mm, think I died,” you manage, peeking up at him with teary eyes. Another tender kiss to the dopey smile on your lips. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, sweetheart.” 

His grin is deservedly cocky, earning himself the warm grasp of your hand around his length. The prettiest frown graces his face as you squeeze and slowly pump your hand, your lips moving to his neck. 

Steve’s gaze moves from your face, dragging down your body to where your hand holds him. His size makes your hand look small and you feel the kick of his arousal on your palm. You manage to swing one wobbly leg over him, sitting on the breadth of his thighs with new confidence as he holds you steady. 

You lean across him, earning kisses to your chest as you fish for a condom to rip open and roll on to him before lowering yourself down into his lap. 

Sinking your teeth into the fat of your lower lip at the stretch of him, Steve huffs out a breathy swear against your chest. His hands settle on your hip and thigh, grounding and never rushing as you breathe into the feeling of him inside you before beginning to move. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs, watching you in awe. “So pretty f’me.”

That spurs you on, chasing the tingle deep in your abdomen. Your fingers lace with Steve’s on your thigh, the other hand braced against the wall behind his shoulder. 

His head leans back by your hand, turning to kiss your wrist as you move in his lap. You curl your arm around him, bringing each other close as his hips hitch up to meet you. 

“So good, baby,” he murmurs, kissing you again as his breath comes quicker now. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty.”

Gasping his name, you hold him tight to you as you move together. He can’t take his eyes off of you, “Good girl, so gorgeous.” 

Messy kisses broken by gasps and Steve’s praise are traded back and forth. His hands feel huge where they hold you at your waist. 

The cord of pleasure deep in your pelvis winds tighter. Steve’s jaw twitches as he holds on to you, and you kiss the tense muscle before whispering, “You make me feel so good.” The sound he makes is almost a whimper and he squeezes the meat of your ass. Your hips continue their rise and roll, you feel like every cell of your body is aflame. 

Steve watches you, praising words fanning the fire low in your belly. The burn in your thighs makes you pause and he takes the chance to kiss you stupid again. 

“Feel good? Yeah?” When you nod, feeling spaced out, he pecks your swollen lips and whispers, “Let me take care of you, sweetheart.” You wonder if he lets anyone take care of him, return his generosity and affections. 

He is so gentle as he holds you to his chest and slouches lower on the bed. You close your eyes at the feeling of being held like this, cheek to his broad shoulder. His feet are flat and firm on the bed and the experimental thrust up into you makes you sigh his name. Steve sweeps your hair to one side so that he can kiss your neck again, checking in with you before continuing. 

His name echoes on your bedroom walls as he grazes the elusive spot inside of you; the way you press right against his pelvis gives a rub of friction that makes lightning zing through your limbs. “That’s it. Huh? Right there?” His voice is tight as he drives up into you again, faster now with the new angle. 

You can hardly summon the sense to make a sentence, babbling now with how good he’s making you feel, the occasional broken curse or plea. After last night and this morning, the neighbours won’t be happy or forget Steve’s name anytime soon - not that you give a fuck. 

You kiss him again, though now you’re both so far gone it’s messy and needy, hot breaths against each other’s cheeks. The lick of his tongue against yours makes you shiver. You feel ready to burst, pleasure building as his hips drive up hard into you

With the feeling of him so deep inside of you, you fall over the edge again. The feeling of your orgasm, clenching and fluttering and soaking, drags him with you, groaning against your neck when his hips slam and stutter still. His arms are tight around you, both heaving deep breaths together. 

Steve eases you both down onto your sides, tangled together. You feel dazed and heavy but the stroke of Steve’s fingers on your hip, his hot breath on your collarbone grounds you until the sounds of Chicago on a Saturday morning remind you that this wasn’t a dream. 

“You okay? That.. Jesus…” Steve’s voice is breathy, but you hear his smile. 

“Yeah. I’m…amazing.”

“Yeah, you are.” 

There’s comfortable silence as you both come back to earth. 

After a few moments Steve dots kisses to your cheeks, forehead and nose before he eases out of you to bin the full condom. Soon you’re back in bed with him, held safe in his arms. His cheeks are pink and you want to squeeze them. 

“You’re so gorgeous, Steve.” Your fingers brush over the moles dotted along his cheekbone, and he catches your hand to kiss your fingers sweetly in distraction. “Hey. Look at me, Harrington.”

“Back to Harrington?” he teases, looking into your eyes with faux intensity to make you giggle. “M’lookin’.”

“Steve. Steven.” You match his teasing with pretend-seriousness.

“Not Steven. Please, baby.” His mouth turns down, exaggerating his unhappiness with you, but the stroke of his fingers on your hip say otherwise.

“Ms O’Donnell called you Steven.”

“Please don’t bring O’Donnell up while my dick is still out.”

You both dissolve into giggles, pressing your face against the chain on his chest. “Shut up, she had that much of an effect on you?! Calling you Steven gets you all worked up? Okay perv, good to know.”

“You’re sick in the head.” His voice is shaky with laughter against your hair. “S’a good thing you’re cute.”

“Mhm. Definitely a sicko. Two cute sickos.” You take his face in your hands again. “You’re a great date Steve Harrington.”

He smiles, but it falls a little - you just about catch it. It makes your heart hurt. Your inability to just say that you don’t want this to be a one time thing makes you want to pull your own hair out. 

“I do my best. I had so much fun with you. I’m just kinda… sick of first dates though. Yknow?” 

“I do know. But that’s not how last night felt.” 

There’s a flash of recognition in his eyes as he nods. 

“Definitely helped that we had a bit of a head start on the ‘where are you from?’ shit..” There’s a twinkle of playfulness in his heart wrenching sincerity. 

“I hate that part.” You look into his eyes. It makes your chest flutter, how he looks at you.

“I know we didn’t know each other all that well in school..”

“Since kindergarten.” Your shrug is tiny, you smile playfully as he groans. 

“Since kindergarten. Shit. What’ve I been doing all this time…” he asks the ceiling.

“Same as me. Getting out of Hawkins. Going on crappy dates...” 

“Mm, true. Growing up, I guess.” He’s quiet for a moment, “Last night wasn’t crappy. Best date I’ve been on in a long long time.”

“Me too. I think I’ll let you take me out again, if you want to…” you say, whispering bravely as you act all playful despite your hammering heart. 

The smile on Steve’s face makes the butterflies in your stomach swoop again. You weren’t the only one who felt so dimmed by dating around, having your heart broken. There’s a beat of silence, charged electric as Steve looks at your lips and you touch his chain again. 

“You like pancakes, or waffles?” Steve’s eyes twinkle. 

You squeeze the bulk of his bicep. “French toast.”

His head tips back in laugh, showing off his delicious throat. “Oh she’s fancy?”

“She is.” 

He leans in to kiss you in more time. “I can do fancy, baby.” 

“You’ve done fancy twice. Fancy is hungry, Steve.”

Your laughter echoes in the golden morning light that fills your room as his fingers skate over your ribs, finding the ticklish spots before he hauls you as close as possible again. 

Steve’s nose presses against your cheek, smooching one more kiss there before sitting up to find his pants. As you stargaze at the constellation on his broad back, you think this might just be the start of something really amazing.

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[tooearlyforthis]

Happy Birthday, Honey | Steve Harrington

It's Steve Harrington's Bday! Or at least according to Google it is, so here is a little bday fic about him. Also apparently, it was Joe Keery's Bday last week. So happy bday to him too.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Series Synopsis: Steve just wants to spend his birthday the same way he always does - no one knowing and all to himself. His girlfriend, on the other hand, has other ideas.

Warnings: fluff, established relationship

Click here to see my masterlist

April 29th was Steve Harrington’s least favorite day. Why? Because it's his birthday. 

It was a day that plagued him since he was old enough to stay home alone. His parents were never there, off on business trips that left him alone for months at a time. They never remembered his birthday when they were home anyways and that always seemed to hurt more. Like a slap in the face from the only people that cared about him.

Tommy and Carol were the only ones from his old life that knew the day he was born. And even then, they didn’t do anything special for him. It wasn’t like he asked them to, they just never cared enough about him to celebrate. Steve would always make sure to throw a party for himself on that day. Not specifically for him, but just so he wasn’t spending another day alone. 

He didn’t bother to tell Y/n or Dustin, or anyone in The Party for that matter. Partly because they never asked and partly because it never came up. But as the day was rounding the corner, he knew he couldn’t spend it alone. He asked for an extra shift at work and Y/n would be coming over later that night, two things that would help him survive another year.

He wouldn’t tell Y/n, that just felt unfair. A few months ago, when it was her birthday, he made sure to make it as special as he could. A nice restaurant, gifts from all their friends - he knew if he told her this last minute she would feel awful about it. And he never wanted to make her sad.

Well, there was always next year. 

The morning of he woke up to his alarm blaring like it was any other day. And he was determined to make it such. Grabbing a bagel on his way out, he headed to work. He was surprised when he was the first one to make it to work that morning. The Max, and Robin were always sticklers for time. But both of them were nowhere in sight.

Trying not to think too much of it, he unlocked the front door and headed inside. The place had become very familiar to him after so many hours of work. He could point to a section of the shop and tell you exactly what tapes were stored there, and how much it would cost to rent them.

And by just one glance around the room, he could tell that Keith closed the night before. That was a relief for him, knowing that he didn’t have to look out for half-ass jobs of putting back tapes or an incomplete inventory. He just placed his bag in the back employee room before heading out to the register. 

As he emerged from the employee common space, he was relieved to see that at least one of his co-workers had arrived. He sat down at the front desk as they came in.

“Hey, Harrington,” Max announced with a smile. 

After moving to the trailer park, the young redhead thought it was about time she started to chip into her household. Plus she needed the money for a new skateboard.

“Mayfield,” Steve responded as he booted up the computer.

Max leaned across the counter, trying to look at the still-loading screen. “Did that old guy return the porno yet?”

“Nope, it’s officially two weeks late.”

“Damn! He’s really been going at it hasn’t he.”

Steve tried to conceal his chuckle. “I guess so… hey go put your stuff in the back I think there are still some tapes we need to rewind.”

She gave a nod before heading away. This was good. Everything was normal and he wouldn’t be alone. Just make it through the day and-

“Steve!”

He looked up to see Robin coming through the front door, a smile on her face. That was odd, she was never usually this chipper in the mornings. She ran over to him, engulfing him in a bug hug from behind.

“How’s your morning been?” she asked, still smiling. 

He responded, “Uh, fine?” Cause how else do you respond to that? It was 9 o’clock in the morning. “What’s got you so jumpy?”

“Nothing! Can’t be excited to see my dear friend Steve?”

“Oh, you can, just not when you’re almost late to work.”

She rolled her eyes, pulling away from him. “Key word: almost.”

“Why were you late anyways? The doors are usually unlocked by the time I come in.”

Robin fell silent for a moment as she took out her book and placed it on the counter. Tuesdays weren’t usually busy so she would bring something to read to pass the time. 

“I uh…had something I needed to take care of.”

“Care to share with the class?”

He watched as she paused for a moment before simply saying, “No.”

“Okay then,” he responded, turning back to the computer. “Then go help, Max, with the rewinds.”

Robin groaned as she chucked her bag over her shoulder. “You know, you’ve been a little bit bossier since getting promoted to manager.”

“I’d say more disciplined.”

Rolling her eyes she gathered her bag, ready to help David in the back. Steve sighed, hunching back into his seat. Yeah, just like any other day.

🎬🎬🎬

The shift at Family Video came and went just like any day, however, Robin was being more distant and smiley. Robin liked to have a good laugh but this much was just too uncommon for her. He spotted her whispering with Max a couple of times throughout the shift. But every time he approached them on the subject they pretended like it never happened. 

As their shift came to a close, he decided he would give it one last try.

“Are you sure there’s nothing going on?” he asked her, stripping off his green work vest.

She shook her head. “Nothing! Just another completely normal day at work, right?”

“Sure.” 

Steve watched as the next shift came in, Max walking out from the back to join them in leaving. “Well, that was a very unproductive day,” she told them.

The three of them walked out of the store, readjusting their shirts. 

“Nothing you can do when you don’t have any customers,” Robin said back. “Max you’re giving me a ride right?”

“Wait Rob, I thought I was driving you home?” Steve said surprised.

“No uh, sorry forgot to tell you Max and I were gonna hang out.” She nudged her arm. “Right?”

“Yeah! Sorry, forgot to tell you,” Max responded quickly as she open the driver’s door of her car. 

“You’re letting Max drive you?” Steve asked with widen-eyes. It was almost like he was having flashbacks to the night she almost crashed his BMW. 

“Hey, I have my license now!” Max shouted at him but he just dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

Rolling her eyes, Robin said, “I’ll be fine. Would you rather have me driving her?”

“That’s a good point.”

“All right then.” Robin lowered herself into the passenger seat of Max’s car. She reached for the door handle. “See you tonight!”

“Tonight?”

“Tomorrow! I meant tomorrow. But uh… yeah see ya.” 

Before Steve could question her further, both she and Mac climbed shut their doors. He sighed, watching as they drove off, leaving him alone in the parking lot.

“Hey there, hot stuff.”

Steve turned to find the voice calling out to him. He smiled when he saw his girlfriend in her car behind him.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asked, resting a hand on the top of her car. Y/n leaned out the window, crossing her arms. “I thought we were meeting up later.”

“Well, can you blame me? I miss my boyfriend. Come on, get in.”

“But I drove here.”

“We can grab your car later, come on!”

Not being able to resist, he walked around the other side and climbed in. He leaned over the center console, pulling her into a kiss before buckling his seat belt. “I’ll never get used to that.”

Blushing, Y/n put her car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot. “You really know how to make a girl swoon huh?”

He shrugged. “I have my ways. So, why do I have the honor of seeing my girlfriend so early today?” 

“I just figured instead of sitting in our separate houses for the next few hours before dinner we could see a movie. 8 Million Ways to Die came out a couple of days ago and I know how much you love those detective movies.”

“Hmm, you are right about that.” He swung an arm across the back of her seat. “Sure, the movie before dinner sounds great.”

🎬🎬🎬

“But it was noir how can it be funny?” Y/n asked, taking another bite of her food. Her plate was almost finished.

“It was a noir but it just had some funny moments in it like the warehouse confrontation? I mean it was just a little too quirky for my liking,” Steve responded, picking up his fork. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t like it!”

“Mmmhm, sure you did.”

“No, come on, babe I liked it,” he reassured her, reaching out a hand to touch hers. “Thank you for today, you don’t know how much it means to me.”

Y/n smiled but it faltered slightly as she pulled back her hand. “I-uh….”

Steve let his smile drop too, growing concerned by the second. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes! Everything is fine it’s just….I might have some idea of what today means to you.”

He felt his heart beat a little faster wondering what she could know. Oh no, did she know? 

“I- what do you mean?” he asked.

“Honey, I know it’s your birthday.”

Steve felt his eyes widen, unable to form words on his lips. “H-how long have you known?”

“A couple of months….you just never bring it up I figured it was a sore subject.”

“Not really I just never make a big deal out of it. No one ever- I mean it never-“ He stumbled to find the right words to describe how he felt.

“Steve, you deserve to have a day where people appreciate you. Like the birthday you gave me? It was perfect, having all my friends there to celebrate with me. You deserve that, honey.”

“This day, just going to the movies and dinner with you? That’s enough for me.”

Not satisfied with that answer, Y/n shook her head. “Nope, come on, I got a surprise for you. She stood up, extending an arm to him. “Come on.”

“But the bill-“

“-has already been paid for.”

“You paid already?” he asked, reaching up to take her hand.

“Yep. That’s what happens when you’re the birthday boy. Gotta let others take care of you.”

“I don’t think I like this very much.”

“Well get used to it 'cause you deserve it.”

🎬🎬🎬

Steve was confused as they drove silently in Y/n’s car. The only sound came from the rumbling engine and the music playing very softly through the radio. The streets they passed looked familiar, almost too familiar. Wait, they were in Loch Nora. 

“Are we driving to my house?” Steve asked, wondering what surprise could be waiting for him in his own home. 

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Y/n responded, keeping her eyes on the road, and a smile formed across her lips.

He reached forward, placing a hand on her thigh. “Come on, babe. Just tell me.”

Reaching down, she removed his hand. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere Harrington….at least not this time.”

Steve huffed as he leaned back in his seat, watching as the car turned down his street and into his driveway. 

“So the surprise is at my house,” Steve nudged, getting out of the car. 

Y/n walked to his side, taking his hand. “Oh my god, do you want an award or something?”

“No, but it’s nice validation.”

She smiled as they reached the front steps. He went to turn the handle but she stopped him. “Wait,” she began. 

Steve turned to look at her. “Yeah?”

“Just-“ Pausing, she took a moment to re-orient him to face her, her hands dropping from the side of his arms. “I’m not gonna press you why you didn’t tell me about your birthday okay? But it is a special day, at least to me, and you deserve to be celebrated.”

Steve felt like he could melt at her words; slump into her arms and spend the day thinking about how lucky he was to have her. Instead, he leaned in, giving her a quick peck on the lips. It was a chaste kiss, but still passionate nonetheless. 

As they pulled apart, Steve smiled. “What did I do to deserve you.”

“You didn’t have to do anything. I love you just the way you are.”

Stepping forward, she opened the front door. They stepped inside the dark foyer, Y/n moving quickly to turn on the lights.

As the lights shined through the room, Steve stepped back in shock. Everyone he cared about, the kids, Nancy and Jonathan, Robin, and even Hopper and Joyce stood in his living room. There was a big banner behind them, decorations, and balloons littered throughout the house. 

At the sight of him, they all shouted, “Happy Birthday!!!”

Dustin had a bunch of party blowers in his mouth, making them all go off at once while Lucas threw confetti into the air. He watched as Max let go of some balloons that all floated to his ceiling. Nancy, Robin, and Jonathan were all holding a cake that sprawled a Happy Birthday message across the top.

It was everything he didn’t know he needed for his birthday.

He stumbled back in shock at the scene before him. He beamed at all of his friends who came to celebrate. After so many years of not having a birthday, of being ignored by the people closest to him, it felt like he was being heard.

He felt a tug on his sleeve as Y/n wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Happy Birthday, honey,” she said softly.

Steve grinned looking down at her. “Seriously what did I do to deserve you.” 

He swooned for her as she giggled. He loved that giggle, it made his heart feel whole. Not being able to hold back, not caring that he was surrounded by all of his friends, he pulled her into a kiss.

Their lips connected into a familiar dance, filled with the warmth and comfort of everything before them. He could hear a whistling sound in the room, probably from Mike as Robin clapped and cheered for them. 

As they broke the kiss, Dustin stepped forward, holding more party blowers in his hands. He yelled with excitement, “Now let’s get this party started!”

[tooearlyforthis]

Help Me Help You

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Synopsis: (12.6k wc) Steve can't always admit when he needs help - which is why Robin is there to tell him. Weeks of therapy and he feels like he's gotten nowhere. So what happens when his therapist recommends a group session? What if he recognizes someone there?

Warnings: fluff, angst, mental health - anxiety, depression, panic attacks, mentions of loss, therapy, mentions of SA

masterlist || steve harrington taglist

This is a little different than what I usually post but I started writing this when I wasn't in the best place and I found it helped a lot. A lot of this stuff I've been through but if there is any feedback you guys have to portray the things discussed better please reach out!

“And how has that shaped you?”

The words echoed in Steve’s ears. He had heard it, comprehended the question; but his mind drifted far away. The grey carpet floor beneath him held no value, but he couldn’t look away. Why did he think therapy was a good idea?

Dr. Ackerman shifted in her seat, her pencil tapping against a notebook in her lap. “Steve,” she said sternly. He only mumbled a response, picking his head up. “How did not getting into college shape you?”

It sounded more like an interview question than anything else. Something a mid-level employee would ask him as he sat in the front of the store, nerves taking over his whole body. 

He propped his foot up on one knee, trying to think of an answer quickly. “Uh more resilience, I guess?”

Nodding, Dr. Ackerman wrote on her notepad. “Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t know, that kind of life wasn’t meant for me. It made me move on to better things.” He tried not to tap his fingers against his thigh - a nervous tick he had developed over the years.

“And why do you think that life, going to college, wasn’t for you?”

He tried to think of a way to justify his answer. Telling the truth wasn’t an option, despite it being the reason he sought out counseling. 

She leaned forward, letting her hands drift over her knees. “This won’t work if you’re not open, Steve.”

Shit how did she know?

Leaning back Dr. Ackerman continued, “I want you to come this weekend to sit in on a group session with my other patients. See how talking about what’s wrong may help you.”

“I don’t know –“ he began, already hesitant on her suggestion.

Putting up a hand, she silenced him. “No fighting. You need to commit, Stephen.”

The mention of his full name stung, a friendly reminder that she was older, wiser – a person who knew what was best for him.

“Trust me. This will help.”

Something smelled good. Way too good. 

It floated through his house, filling every crevice despite the absence of bodies. It made him feel safe, an unfamiliar sensation to him from the last few years. Following the smell, he walked into the kitchen. Robin was standing over the stove, a paper towel gripped over her arm.

“What did you do?” He asked, announcing his presence. 

He wasn’t surprised to see her. More and more the past few weeks she had been spending time at his house, even taking up a semi permanent room upstairs. 

She turned around, her face softening from a scowl. “Just burned my arm with oil. I think I put too much in the pan.” Steve chuckled. “How did it go?”

Shedding his jacket, he sat down at the counter. “It was fine. She wants me to do group therapy this weekend.” 

“Do you think it will help?”

He shrugged, not knowing his true answer. Out of all the people in their little party of monster fighters, Steve experienced some of the worst. From getting beat up more times that he could count, to getting tortured by Russians, he was in desperate need of help. 

But part of him still thought he didn’t when there were always others that would need him. His brain would spiral. To thoughts of the kids, hoping another gate hadn’t opened up; to Joyce and Hopper, wondering if someone would come back looking for them. But as the PTSD of his past caught up to him, it felt like the only viable option.

“What are you cooking?” he asked, diverting the conversation.

“Chicken,” Robin replied. “I mean, it’ll probably taste like shit. But it’s been a while since we had a proper meal, ya know?”

He nodded. “Yeah it has been…don’t worry though it actually smells really good. I think I’m going to take a nap before we eat if that’s okay? Just tired from this –”

“ – you don’t have to explain. I understand.”

He smiled at her – a genuine smile. Nowadays it felt like every emotion he felt was being forced, a sign to tell the others he was okay. But Robin had a way of bringing out his true self. She understood him in ways no one else in his life did. From the moment they went crashing down in that Russian elevator, they were linked at the hip - a single mind working cohesively.

Entering his bedroom, he felt immediate relief. It was a sense of safety, like a big blanket wrapping him in a warm hug. Sinking into the mattress he let sleep take him, hoping to not wake up from the horror of his dreams.

The weekend came sooner than Steve would have liked. He didn’t feel ready to walk into group therapy, no matter how much he tried to prepare himself. The unknown scared him, even when it came to just talking about his feelings. 

Robin offered to drive him. He was reluctant at first since she had only had her license for a year. But the session was a couple of towns over and she knew how his mind would run if he was alone in his car.

Pulling up to the building, she let the car roll to a stop. The engine continued to rumble in Steve’s ears, his heart matching the irregular pattern. It was like he was riding up a roller coaster, the top never coming into sight. He shut his eyes, trying to wish the feeling away.

Robin placed a hand gently on his shoulder, grounding him back to reality. “Hey,” she began. “Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Nodding, he unbuckled his seat belt and grabbed the water bottle he had brought. “Thanks for driving, Rob.”

“Of course. I’ll be here when you get out.”

With one last breath, he said to himself, “All right, let’s do this.”

He opened the car door, letting the cold air hit his face as he climbed out. It felt nice, like a wake-up call he so desperately needed. 

“You got this!” Robin exclaimed from the rolled-down window. 

He smiled, watching as she drove off before turning back to the big brick building in front of him. It was a different place from his usual sessions with Dr. Ackerman. But as he entered the building, he found it felt eerily similar. Was every therapist's office decorated the same? From the off-grey carpet to the leather sofa, it felt like a place he had been before. It helped calm his emotions just a smidge. 

“Can I help you, sweetie?” He turned to the lady behind the front counter.

“Uh, yeah I’m here for Dr. Ackerman’s group session?”

“Follow me,” she said with a warm smile.

The lady moved from her place behind the counter to open the door at the other end of the room. Closely, he followed her down the narrow hallway. His heart began to race, wondering how he could talk about his traumas without revealing the supernatural. It was hard to do with one person but a whole group? He might as well sew his mouth shut. 

“Here you are sweetie,” the lady said, swinging open a door. 

He barely had time to thank her before the door was shut behind him, leaving him alone in a room of strangers. Well, strangers plus one person he never thought he’d see again; Y/N L/N. She was sitting in a chair, arms crossed in an oversized sweatshirt and leggings. It was very different from how he remembered her in high school. 

From the few classes they shared and the occasional hellos in the hallway, he knew she was a pretty friendly, put-together person. She was always kind to people, despite the unfriendly rumors about how many notches were on her bedpost. Last he heard, she was heading off to some Ivy League school after graduation. So what was she doing sitting in on this therapy group?

He wanted to talk to her, to reconnect even though they were never close to begin with. Her eyes were glued to the hem of her sweatshirt, pinching at it in boredom. Then she looked up, scanning the room before her eyes landed on him. Her breath hitched for a moment as Steve saw her realize who he was. 

Wanting to talk to her, he stepped forward. Before he could even make it an inch, Dr. Ackerman’s voice pulled him away. 

“Mr. Harrington,” she greeted him. “Glad to see you could join us. Please, take a seat.”

Giving a polite smile, he stole a glance at Y/N one more time. She was already looking down at the floor, back to pulling on the strings of her pullover. 

As the therapy season began and people began to speak, Steve found himself barely paying attention. He went into this session hoping to get the most out of it, to really take in and listen to what people had to say. But that was before he saw Y/N. Shy and still undeniably cute, Y/N. 

He wanted to hear her story, not the strangers they were surrounded by. He wanted to know why she was here, not in New Jersey, and what could have happened in her life that made her need therapy in the first place. Steve knew his past was fucked up but from an outsider’s perspective, it never seemed like hers was. 

Unlucky for him, she barely spoke the entire session. There was the occasional nod or spoken agreement, but she never elaborated on any subject brought up. The minute Dr. Ackerman announced their time was over, and before he could even talk to her, she was gone. Out the door and out of his life. 

Steve slumped back into his chair, feeling defeated. He didn’t know why he felt so down. She was never a close friend to him, even at the height of them interacting in school. He got up to leave, hoping to catch her outside when he heard Dr. Ackerman called his name. Begrudgingly, he turned around to face her.

“So, what did you think?” she asked.

“I uh, don’t really know,” he responded truthfully.

“Then I want you to come back next weekend. And try to talk more, okay? You get out of it what you put in.”

Nodding, he gave her a goodbye. He rushed out the door, hoping to catch Y/N before she left. But alas, he was too late. Everyone had gone for the day. The only person left was Robin, patiently waiting in the car next to the curb. 

“How’d it go?” She asked, as he stepped into the car. 

“Fine,” he replied, as he played with the hem of his shirt. “I uh… saw Y/N L/N. Remember her?”

“I think so. Pretty sure we had chem together. Wait, wasn’t she some big shot? Going off to Princeton or something?”

Steve shrugged. “I guess not anymore.”

Robin gave an inquisitive hum in lieu of a reply. He stared out the window as she drove, partly thinking of how much Robin’s driving had improved. But mostly, his mind was filled with thoughts of Y/N and how he couldn’t wait to see her again. 

Steve made sure to arrive extra early for the group session the following week. He walked into the office complex, moving his way through the halls to the familiar door with Dr. Ackerman’s plaque across the front. With one last deep breath, he went in. 

The receptionist recognized him, letting him go into the therapy room with no problem. “Dr. Ackerman isn’t here yet but make yourself comfortable,” she told him. 

“Thanks,” he replied softly, watching her close the door behind him. 

When he turned around again, he was greeted with semi-familiar faces staring back at him. He scanned the room; no Y/N in sight. Giving a weak smile, he sat down in the same seat from last week. 

He could tell the others' eyes were on him, trying to get a read on the newbie. There weren’t many people there but it sure felt like a lot. A boy, probably around his age, a slightly older woman dressed very professionally, and an older lady that he had to guess was a few years away from a retirement home. 

“Hey,” the younger boy said, causing Steve to look up. “I’m Matt.” Steve replied with only his name, not knowing what else to say. Matt motioned to the woman in her late 20s wearing almost a business suit. “That’s Sam, and grandma over there is Louise. She could drop dead any minute so be on the lookout.”

“Matt!” Sam exclaimed, hitting his arm. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s alright, sweetie,” Louise calmed her. “He can say anything he wants as long as he remembers that I know where he lives, and I own a gun.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, his shoulders stiffening. Did that old woman just threaten him? Matt bursted out laughing. It was clear the group was comfortable with that sort of joking around. He turned back to a very tense Steve. “What are you here for?”

“You don’t have to answer that.” Sam told him.. 

“It’s complicated,” Steve said honestly. “I-I’m not really sure how I would explain it anyways.”

“Oooh,” Matt cooed. “Are you in a love triangle?”

“No I –”

“Family abandon you?”

“Well –”

“Oh I got it!” He interrupted again, sitting up straighter in his chair. “You got bit by a rabies infected bat and turned into a vampire.”

Steve tensed. How did he– it was obviously a joke. Not anything to take seriously so Steve decided to play along. “Actually, you’re not that far off.”

Matt chuckled, looking over at Sam who let out a small laugh as well. “I like you. You’re gonna fit in just fine.”

“Okay…” Steve said hesitantly, not knowing quite what he meant. 

The door softly clicked open, everyone turning to look who it was. Steve sucked in a breath when he realized it was Y/N. She was wearing something similar to last week, a pair of jeans and a sweater two sizes too big. The room was small enough that as she scanned the environment, her eyes locked with his.

Steve heard the others greeting her as she stepped further into the room, but his gaze was still fixed on her. Quickly, Y/N looked down, her hair falling gently over her face. He couldn’t help but feel a little hurt. Maybe she realized that they would be seeing more of each other; maybe she didn’t want to see him at all. He watched as she walked to an open seat, setting her bag down at her feet.

Steve wanted to speak, to say something to Y/N even though he didn’t know what. Cursed again, Dr. Ackerman bursted into the room. “Sorry I’m late,” she announced. “Let’s get started.”

Even though his mind was filled with thoughts of Y/N, he did manage to listen in more to the problems of his fellow group members. Matt was from a couple towns over attending the state college. His anxiety got the best of him and he had a falling out with his best friend. Sam was an elementary school teacher who suffered from PTSD from her younger years traveling as a military brat. And Louise was grieving the loss of her son - a car accident from a few months prior. He listened in more, taking in the symptoms and coping mechanisms they used. Some of the things they said sounded familiar, things that he could learn from his own terrifying experiences.

Once Louise, recounted her past week, how it felt in the wake of her son’s death, Dr. Ackerman turned to him. 

“Steve,” she said suddenly, taking him off guard from sneaking a look at Y/N. “You've experienced some loss in your life as well?” He nodded, not knowing where this was going. “Would you like to share a recent experience you had? Maybe the group has some coping skills to help you. 

Suddenly all the eyes were on him. He felt violated, talking in front of people he barely knew for two days. But in the words of Dr. Ackerman, it wasn’t going to help if he didn’t contribute. 

He began to speak, choosing his words very carefully. “Um yeah I guess I’ve been surrounded by loss, more so in the past couple of years.”

 He felt Y/N look up at him, sympathy in her stare. It gave him the courage to continue. 

“First it was my ex’s best friend. I didn’t know her well but she was last seen at my house so, I guess I blame myself for that? My friend, his mom’s boyfriend passed away, as well as another friend’s older brother…but more recently, a-a new friend. We had only just met… he uh, played a lot of Dungeons and Dragons.”

He looked over at Y/N again who was still staring at him, her sympathy replaced with something else - something he couldn’t quiet. Fright? No, recognition.

“I think of him sometimes– the new friend,” Steve clarified, glancing down at his fingers tapping against his thigh. “We only knew each other for a short while but he was a good dude…I see stuff around town sometimes that reminds me of him and I feel like I’m back- “ 

In the Upside Down.

“In a dark place,” he opted to say instead. 

When he looked up at the group, he felt relieved. They all looked at him with a sense of understanding, like they knew what he was going through. Hell, after what he heard today they probably were.

“I see,” Dr. Ackerman began. “So group, what can Steve do?”

“Well, I find the 54321 method helpful,” Sam said. 

Matt pointed at her. “I was about to say the same thing.”

“The 54321 method?” Steve asked, hoping they would explain further. 

“Y/N,” Dr. Ackerman said. She looked up at her. “Would you mind explaining to Steve what this coping skill is?”

Steve looked over at her hesitantly. “Uh sure,” she said, sitting up straighter. She was trying to look at him but her eyes fell back to her lap. “You count five things you can see around you, four things you can feel… uh three things you can hear. Two you can smell and one you can taste.”

“Very good Y/N.”

She looked up at him one last time, her gaze holding longer than usual and Steve felt like she could take his breath away. 

“And have you been using those methods yourself?” Dr. Ackerman asked. 

She tore her gaze away from Steve, looking back at their therapist. “I-I’ve been trying.”

“Well that’s a step forward right? Effort is all I can ask for. Now Steve,” she directed her attention back to her. “Those were great examples, but not the one I was looking for.”

“It wasn’t?” 

“What about your parents?”

He shook his head. “My parents aren’t dead.”

“But are they around often?” Steve froze. She knew they weren’t. Where was she going with this? Shaking his head, she continued. “Couldn’t that count as a form of loss? The loss of parental figures?”

He remained silent. Could it?

“Loss is not just death, Steve. It can take on many forms.”

Shit, he hadn’t thought of it that way. How much in his life had he truly lost? His parents, his friends, his reputation… Before he could even begin to process what that meant, Dr. Ackerman moved on to Matt who talked about his recent split from his best friend. But Steve was still in his own mind. His own thoughts drowning out the voices of the people around him. 

Maybe he needed therapy more than he cared to admit.

Before Steve knew it, the session was over and he was making his way out of the room, the thought of loss still very much present in his mind. He didn’t realize how much therapy would actually help him. Though mental health was something more and more people were beginning to talk about, it still had a lot of negative stereotypes. One wrong step and you could end up in a psychiatric ward without really needing it.

Trying to give his brain a break, Steve shifted his focus to Y/N and how he desperately wanted to try and talk to her. But yet again, Dr. Ackerman stopped him. “So, how are you liking the group?”

“A lot better than last week,” he replied, watching a small smile form on her face.

“Good. That’s really good, Steve.”

“Can I…keep coming to this group? On top of our sessions?”

She nodded. “That was the plan all along. See you later this week.”

“See you, Dr. Ackerman.”

Despite the heavy topic of the session, the moment Steve stepped outside, it was like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. The air felt nice, so crisp on his skin it was like a fresh glass of water. He was reluctant to admit that Dr. Ackerman was right, but the lady knew her stuff.

Looking around, he noticed Robin hadn’t arrived yet. Everybody else was gone, or so he thought.

“I didn’t know that about your parents.”

Steve turned around to find Y/N leaning against a wall, a cigarette between her fingers. There was no need for introductions, they both had remembered each other – it was just a matter of who would speak first.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve began to respond, shoving his hands in his pockets. He spent so long building up the moment they would speak again that when the time came, he felt frozen. Like a deep in headlights. Making his way over to her, he continued, “Most people don’t.”

She nodded, taking a puff of the cigarette. As she breathed out, a cloud of smoke followed, slowly floating above them. Steve tried not to wince at the smell. “Want one?” she offered.

“No thanks, I quit last year.”

Her eyebrows raised, surprised. Slowly she shrugged. “That makes one of us.”

Not knowing what to do, Steve looked around, trying his best to find something for them to talk about besides the obvious. Unfortunately, he came up with nothing. “I thought you went off to college.”

“I did,” she said before mumbling, “Until Gary entered the picture.”

“Who’s Gary?”

Not responding, she puffed out more smoke. It was clearly a touchy subject and Steve knew all too well about those. 

“I-I’m happy you’re here though.”

She scoffed. “Really?”

He nodded. “I wished we stayed in touch when school was over.”

“Hate to break it to you, Harrington, but I didn’t consider us friends.”

“I mean, me neither. But I remember you being one of the few people that called me on my bullshit – could see through my lies…I need more people like that in my life.”

She stared at him, her cigarette still loosely hanging between fingers. He didn’t know what she was thinking, what she was searching for in his comment. Maybe the truth? To see if he was lying? Before either of them could say anymore a honk echoed across the parking lot. Steve turned to see Robin pulling up to the curb. She rolled down the window as she parked. 

“That’s my ride,” Steve said, slowly backing away. “You remember Buckley? Another Hawkins High survivor.”

“Yeah, hey,” Y/N said, giving a small wave.

Robin waved back and said, “Oh hey, yeah we had chem together right?” Y/N nodded. 

“I’ll uh, see you next week?” Steve said, turning back to her one more time.

“Uh, yeah. Yes.” She took another puff. “See you next week.”

With one last wave, he climbed into the car, watching Y/N become a speck in the side-view mirror as they drove away.

“So,” Robin began, “You finally talked to her?”

“More like she talked to me but, yeah,” he responded.

“She’s different from what I remember. Tougher, less open to people. I didn’t know you were close.”

“We weren’t.”

Watching as his house turned into view, all he could think about was seeing her the following week.

“Why are we going to the other side of town again? Why can’t we just go to the burger place down the street?” Dustin asked, leaning forward from the backseat of Steve’s car. 

“It’ll be fun!” Robin said, arching her head to look back at him. 

“What’s the place called again?” Lucas asked. 

“Gordy’s,” Mike responded. “Stupid if you ask me.”

Usually in these types of scenarios, Steve would be the one to call them on their bullshit. To be the babysitter that steps up to make things right. However, because of more recent events, instead of stepping up, he was slipping away.

Robin noticed almost instantly, jumping in to control the situation when her friend couldn’t. 

“Hey!” She shouted, cutting off the chatter from the back. “Yes, the diner is called Gordy’s. Yes it’s on the other side of town. And we are going because Max likes it and she used to go with her family. Right Max?”

“Y-yeah,” Max spoke up from the back. “It’s pretty good, I think you guys would like it.”

“I’m excited,” El said, getting an agreement from Will. 

Little chatter soon broke into more chaos, the kids talking over each other without a care in the world. Steve wanted to say something, his grip on the steering wheel tightening in an effort to stop feeling the anxiety running through his chest. But still, it was too much. He needed to focus on the road. 

“See? El’s excited,” Robin chimed in again. “Quit your yapping, we're almost there.”

Almost on cue, they turned into the Gordy's parking lot. Steve took a deep breath as the chatter in the back started to die down. He could almost hear his thoughts again, though he didn’t know if that would be a good thing. 

As the kids began to pile out of the car, he felt Robin’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey,” she said. “Deep breaths, remember? If it gets too bad, do that thing you learned okay? The 123 method.”

“54321 method,” he corrected. 

“Yeah, the 54321 method.” She watched as he nodded, taking another deep breath. “Hey,” she willed him to look at her. “You’re doing great. You ready to go in or do you need a minute?”

“No, I’m good…” It wasn’t until they were standing right outside the doors, the kids already packed into a booth that he spoke again. “Sorry about that, I can’t control it sometimes-”

“You never have to explain yourself,” she interrupted him, grabbing one of his hands. “Never.”

Steve felt this warm haze travel through him, his chest expanding with what felt like a clean breath of air. Sometimes hearing that there was someone there for him was enough to keep him going. Squeezing her hand back, he motioned that he was ready.

It was easy to navigate to where the kids had decided to sit – noise only coming from one side of the diner. Of course, they were arguing. It was about some movie that had just come out though both of the older teens couldn’t quite place which one. 

“Zip it!” Steve shouted over them, standing at the edge of the diner booth. They all abruptly stopped to look at him. It was the first real words he had muttered all night. “Pick what you want to eat. We’re not spending an hour deciding like last time.”

Dustin smiled at his words. Sure, they were kinda mean, but when Steve got bitchy that meant he was alert. 

Sliding into the booth across from Robin, Steve picked up a menu. The options were like any other establishment, and the kids were quick to decide what they wanted. When it came down to it, their orders didn’t really change much from diner to diner. It was the talking that made their visits longer. But Steve liked to mix it up from time to time, especially when eating with Robin - they often split meals. 

So when the waiter came over to take their orders, he was happy they didn’t have to send the guy away. With El eager to get her waffles, she went first, Mike going straight after her. Steve guessed that meant he would be last. He took the moment he had to look around the diner Max had selected. 

It was nice, much nicer than the other places they had tried but that wasn’t saying much. Midwest towns with small populations meant slow repairs. The floors looked a little wet but that was probably from the amount of people walking through with the recent storm. The coffee machine was out of order and by the looks of it, it had been that way for at least a month.

Besides that, not much was out of place. There was an elderly couple sitting at the counter top across the place. Slowly they traced their fingers along a spread out newspaper Steve had to guess was an attempt at the crossword puzzle. But his eyes slowly drifted away from the puzzle and onto the waitress putting down their food. 

It was Y/N. Blue apron, hair pulled back to not obscure her face. 

His breath hitched when he saw her. It was so unexpected, seeing her in a place like this. She looked so calm, almost happy. He hadn’t seen her like that since their senior year. It made him wonder what had gone so wrong, what this “Gary” did to make her dropout of college. And even though he wouldn’t find that answer tonight, he couldn’t stop himself from staring at her.

As she smiled at her customers, her eyes scanned the diner.  Looking for more people to help, her eyes landed on him. There was some shock, the unexpectedness of seeing him, but she forced a smile on her face. 

“Steve!” 

He was pulled out of his daze by Robin, motioning to the waiter standing before them.

“W-what would you like to drink?” the waiter asked again, though Steve swore he never heard him the first time.

“Uh, just water, thanks,” he said sheepishly, his cheeks turning red from embarrassment.

The waiter, however, just nodded, walking over to where Y/N stood. Steve let his eyes follow him, watching the coworkers engage in conversation before Robin spoke again.

“That’s her, right?” she whispered, not wanting the kids to hear. He nodded. “You should go talk to her.”

He whipped his head around to look at her. “What? No.”

“Why not?”

Because my anxiety will make me fuck up my sentences.

“Because she’s working,” he said instead. “I don’t wanna interrupt her.”

“Please, it’s so dead in here she would probably thank you.”

“Who are you talking about?” said Dustin, trying to worm his way into the conversation.

“No one,” Steve said quickly. “Do your maze.”

He looked down at the kids menu in front of him. “I’m not a child!” he exclaimed.

“Maybe, but you love those mazes.”

He took one look at Steve before back down at his menu. Sighing in defeat he said, “Okay yeah I do…”

It was a new record. Almost an entire day without a panic attack. The food had arrived, the kids eating like it was their last meal on earth. Meanwhile Robin took the time to neatly split her and Steve’s food in half, handing him one of the plates.

He smiled at her before diving in. Well, more like inching in. He didn’t feel too hungry, despite not eating at all that day. That was the main reason for this little outing - to get him to eat food. But as the night went on and his food was still barely touched, he knew that something deeper was happening. 

Ever since he started therapy, he had been getting better at spotting anxiety and panic attacks, even preventing a few which he was proud of. But some would start for no reason, even if he was feeling better than he had all day. Something began to rise in his chest and he knew one was coming. Apparently, Robin did too.

Over the noise of the kids debating over some new comic book, Robin asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve dismissed out of instinct. “Just gonna go to the bathroom.”

He quickly stood up, not waiting for a response. The bathroom was unlocked thankfully and looked a little disgusting. Still, he had been in worst places. Staring at the faucet he cupped his hands, splashing water on his face.

Sometimes that helped, giving his body a wake up call it didn’t know it needed. But unfortunately, it wasn't working. He felt his breaths become shorter, more labored. His heart felt like someone was squeezing it in their hands. 

He needed fresh air. Yeah, fresh air would help.

Exiting the bathroom, he was thankful to see there was a back door just a few feet away. Pushing through he was met with the cold crisp air of the back of the diner. There was some air conditioner blowing so loud he could barely hear his own thoughts. 

Picking what looked to be a clean wall, he sat down, trying to take deep breaths. His hands still shook, not slowing down despite his efforts. Nothing was working and he didn’t know why. What had even caused this panic attack? There was nothing he was scared or really anxious about to warrant this level of panic. 

He tried to remember what Dr. Ackerman told him in one of their private sessions. Sometimes panic attacks don’t need a reason for happening. 

“Harrington?”

He willed himself to look up at who was calling his name. It was Y/N, a cigarette in her hand. Perfect, just great. This is exactly how he wanted her to see him.

“Oh, hey,” he tried to say casually, trying to mask his attack. They could both tell it wasn’t working.

“Are you doing okay?”

He could tell it was more of a rhetorical question and he was too tired to lie. “I- not really. I don’t know what happened I just-”

“Hey it’s okay,” she interrupted him, crouching down to be at eye level with him. “We all get them okay?”

He nodded though his heart still felt like it was beating out of his chest. “I-I can’t stop it.”

“Have you done the method yet?” He shook his head. “Okay,” she continued, throwing her cigarette to the side before fully sitting down in front of him cross legged. “Let’s go through it, yeah?”

“Aren’t you working?”

“I’m on my break. Don’t worry about that, let’s help you okay? Name five things you can see.”

“O-okay…” he said, taking a deep breath. “Um, my shoes, those plants ... .uh the-the ground. I can see the wall and- your eyes. Shit- sorry that was weird,” he said, curling back into the wall.

“No, don’t apologize,” she told him, reaching out her hand to cover his. “Describe them to me. What do my eyes look like?”

He looked up at her - there was no hint of mockery in her face. “Well, they're vibrant, they’re a couple of different shades…they're beautiful.”

She smiled at him, not disgusted or annoyed, but genuine happiness. She chuckled, dropping her head for a moment, thanks… Now, let’s continue…”

They listed more things, following the method. With each concentration, the hold on his heart loosened more and more. He couldn’t tell if the method was working or he just liked to be in her company. Whatever it was, it worked. 

As he listed off the taste of his meal, he felt like he could finally breathe. Sighing, he let his back hit the wall. 

“Thanks for that,” he said, closing his eyes. He could still feel the pads of her fingers gently rubbing his hand.

She responded, not letting go. “Of course, we have to look out for each other.” In the distance, someone called her name. “Shit, my break is over. You think you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Slowly she stood back up. “I uh, guess I’ll see you this weekend.” She gave a small wave, not waiting for a response as she scurried back inside for the remainder of her shift. 

As he watched her walk away, he felt the urge to call her back. Her presence, the way she calmed him down - it wasn’t something he wanted to let go of. Begrudgingly, he stood up, knowing that his friends would be wondering where he was soon. He walked through the same back door, passing the bathroom before finding his friends still in the diner booth.

Robin spotted him first as he made his way over - it seemed like the others barely even noticed his absence. “Are you okay? You look pale,” she asked. 

Usually he would lie, say he was fine and tough through his emotions. But as Dr. Ackerman and later Robin told him, he needed to be more honest with his well being.

“I don’t think so. Could we skip the ice cream run tonight?”

“Of course, yeah. Let’s get going, I already paid for the food.” She turned to the kids. “Alright, let’s get you guys home.”

“What about ice cream?” Dustin asked, followed by overlapping replies from the rest of the kids.

“Not tonight. Maybe next week.”

With solemn looks on their faces, the kids slowly climbed out of the diner booth, ready to pile back into the car. Steve watched as Robin unlocked the door, letting them all climb in. While doing so, he turned back, hoping to catch Y/N one more time.

She emerged from the back with two plates of food, locking eyes with him. She gave him a smile and he already felt a million times better. Nodding at her with a grin, she knew he meant it as a thank you.

Turning around, he made his way to the car, hoping that another attack wouldn’t happen when she wasn’t there.

For the first time since starting therapy, Steve Harrington could say he was satisfied with his progress. He had another panic attack later that week and was able to not only realize the source of it, but calm himself down in record time. Well, record time for him, at least. 

Leaving Dr. Ackerman’s office, he waved goodbye to the other patients before making a b-line to the bathrooms. His bladder was not happy about the wait.  After relieving himself, he opened the door to leave. 

“Do you usually hang out with that many kids?”

“Gah!” Steve jumped, not knowing that Y/N was standing outside smoking a cigarette like she was usually seen. “Jeez, you scared me.”

He began to walk to the building exit, her joining at his side. “Sorry, but you gotta answer the question, Harrington. It’s been bugging me since I saw you.”

Pushing open the exit doors, he said, “Uh they’re my friends so, yeah I usually hang out with them.” 

“But children?”

“They aren’t random children, okay? But yeah, they're who I’m close with,” he shrugged. “Probably my only friends if I’m being honest.”

“Huh…” Y/N replied, taking a long drag of her cig. “That’s fucking weird, Harrington. Did you and your girlfriend adopt them or something?”

He cocked his head. “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah, Buckley... Sorry, I just assumed-”

“Oh,” he replied with realization. “Buckley, no we’re just friends. She’s practically my sister.” 

“Oh okay, cool.” She took another puff.

“Do you ever think about quitting? It’s a nasty habit.”

“Yeah well, what else do I have to do?”

“Go out with me?” She turned sharply to glare at him, her eyes going wide. “Not like go out with me. Shit, I said that wrong- Hangout. I meant hangout with me. As friends!”

She still looked frozen, giving him a look he couldn’t quite read. Was that happiness? Distast? Maybe she didn’t want to try being friends with him.

“I wanna see you outside of therapy and your work ya know?” he explained, trying not to dig himself into a deeper hole. “To not listen to Matt re-explain every class he has. I mean like, we’re not the ones in school.”

She laughed at that, probably understanding what he meant. Next to them, a car pulled up to the curb. It wasn’t Robin. 

“That’s my dad,” she responded softly, walking over to the car. She turned to open the passenger door but paused and looked back at him. “Meet me at the Hideout at 7? Saturday?”

Steve couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “I’ll be there.”

She gave him one last look before climbing into the car, driving away. The smile was still plastered on Steve’s face and he couldn’t help but think that this friendship was the beginning of his new life. One where the Upside Down didn’t haunt his dreams, or where he didn’t fight any demogorgons. One where he could leave that all behind. 

The Hideout. It sounded familiar but Steve couldn’t place why he knew it. Even as he walked into the place, he knew he had never been there before. 

It was very grungy. The floors looked like they needed a deep cleaning and the walls were covered head to toe in band posters. A bar sat on the left side of the room, perfectly out of the way of the stage on the back wall. 

Walking in, Steve opted to stand next to a high table, no chairs in sight. He figured it was just a place for people to set down their drinks. Alcohol, however, did not feel the right call. He wanted to stay alert for his first hangout with Y/N. 

As his eyes drifted across the stage, he watched a band set up their equipment. There were only four of them. A drummer, bassist, guitarist, and a rhythm guitarist. It was probably some local band he had never heard of - he didn’t really keep up with current music.

But as he looked closer, he realized that they were familiar. The guy on rhythm guitar, he had seen him before. A math class? Was that it? Slowly, it started to come to him.

This was Eddie’s band.

The room felt like it became a million times hotter as Steve began to sweat. His heart thumping faster than normal. He needed to stay calm, he needed to control his panic. 

Since Eddie died, he tried to stay away from all things related to the guy. Instead of sitting in on the last few minutes of Dustin’s dnd games, he’d wait in the car. Instead of surfing any radio channel, he made sure to skip the metal station. But there was no skipping tonight.

He recognized three of the members but there was one that was new. He had shorter hair, a lanky build and a tattoo peeking out from under the arm of his t-shirt. He didn’t look familiar - not someone he went to school with. But then it dawned on him.

He was Eddie’s replacement. Before he even had time to process that information, he felt a small hand on his back, a presence next to him. 

“Hey, you made it,” Y/N said with a smile on her face. He hadn’t seen her smile like that in a long time.

“W-whata- what…” It was like he couldn’t speak, the image of Eddie’s band moving on without him still in his mind. “W-why did you bring me here?” he finally got out.

Y/N furrowed her brows. “To see Corroded Coffin?” she responded, not really understanding what he meant. “I thought it would be fun, my brother said they’re playing a new song tonight.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Brother?”

“Yeah… Gareth? On the drums? I thought you remembered.” 

No, he didn’t remember. He turned back to the band setting up. Gareth was putting down the hi-hat to complete his drum set. 

Trying to stay calm, he said, “Oh cool…did uh, did you know Eddie too?”

Her face dropped slightly at the mention of his name. “Yeah, I did. He was a good guy.” All he could do was nod, taking a deep breath in. He felt her arm wrap around his. “Everything’s gonna be fine. I’m sorry I should’ve told you why we were here.”

“No it’s okay. It’s like exposure therapy.”

She chuckled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Sure.”

It didn’t take long for them to start, the music blaring out of speakers that were too loud for the room they were in. The new guy, in place of Eddie, was singing and Steve had to admit it wasn’t bad. His heart still ached at the thought of the band having to replace their star singer. They all looked like really close friends back in school. 

They played a couple songs, and Y/N pointed out the new one that her brother had mentioned. It was good, or better than he would have thought. Steve didn’t know how much he actually liked metal music but if he had to listen to any it would be this. 

But he wasn’t really focused on the music, more of the person standing next to him. He tried not to stare but she was so memorizing. Singing along to the songs she knew, bobbing her head to the ones she didn’t. It was nice seeing her outside the context of therapy. He also wasn’t complaining that her arm was still wrapped around his for a majority of the night.

As the new lead singer thanked the small crowd, leaving as they cheered, Steve felt Y/N tug his arm.

“Come on, let’s go say hello,” she said, pulling him through the crowd.

“S-say hello?” he asked. “Like to the band?”

“Duh,” she replied, waving at a bouncer guarding the backstage door. “We aren’t gonna see my brother perform and then leave.”

The corridor backstage was busier than he thought it would be. The bar was small but it sure didn’t feel like that. People were walking up and down, some running like it was Madison Square Garden. He couldn’t tell who worked there, performed, or were just groupies stopping by. 

Turning right, they were met face to face with the green room, a written sign saying Corroded Coffin taped to the door. Y/N smiled at him before she reached for the handle, turning it to reveal a very hectic room.

The band members were just chatting but it sounded like shouting. It all halted when they walked in. 

“Y/N!” Garrett exclaimed, running over to hug her.

“You did great tonight, honestly all of you did,” she told him.

“And the new song?”

“Better than I could’ve imagined.”

Garret turned to look at Steve, his expression changing to something of confusion. “What is he doing here?”

“You brought Steve Harrington?” Jeff, the rhythm guitarist, chimed in.

Y/N turned to look at Steve confused. “I thought you said you knew Eddie?” 

“I-I did,” he told her, suddenly aware of how many eyes were staring at him. He looked around the room quickly before back at her. “I- just not with his usual crowd…”

The band continued to give him a blank stare.

“I know Dustin, Lucas, and Mike? I know you used to play dnd together,” he added.

Grant, the bassist, crossed his arms. “You know Henderson?” he asked. 

Steve nodded. “He’s like a little brother to me.”

They stared in silence at him and what was probably five seconds felt like eternity. It wasn’t until Jeff shrugged and spoke up that Steve realized his heart rate was quickening. 

“I guess you're okay then,” Jeff said, “As long as you don’t try to shove us into lockers.”

If Jeff didn’t chuckled he would have if he was serious. His laugh rippled throughout the room, breaking the tension and it was like life started again. Joints were lit, drinks were poured, and Steve’s past was left forgotten.

“Can I ask you something?” Steve asked. He walked next to Y/N in the cold, night air, the only sound audible coming from the shuffling of their shoes. 

“Sure,” she said, reaching into her pocket to grab a cigarette.

“That first time we talked, like at Dr Ackerman’s…you mentioned someone named Gary.” He felt her stiffen next to him, a slight stutter in her step. “Who was he?”

Dropping her head to the unlit cigarette, she decided to shove it back into her pocket. He instantly regretted asking. 

Apologizing, he said, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s okay…” she waved off. “Exposure therapy, right?” she said, repeating his words from earlier in the night, letting him know it was okay. “Gary was my neighbor in my freshman year dorms. We hit it off really quick and started to date.”

She looked at the ground as she talked, hands shoved into her pockets. Steve however, couldn’t take his gaze off her. 

“He was fine, uh, a good boyfriend. Well, at first…” she took a pause, almost long enough that he was thinking he should say something.

Luckily, she continued. “He stumbled into my room really drunk one night…tried to take advantage of me.” She shrugged, actually shrugged, like what she just told him was nothing. “I pushed him off me and he went blabbing to everyone that I was an attention seeking whore. All my friends stopped talking to me, even my roommate…and the administration wouldn’t do anything about it even though he, you know…”

She trailed off as she kicked a rock with her shoe and Steve could feel his heart breaking into a million pieces. How could someone, anyone, do that sort of thing? Not even when he was considered King Steve would he force himself onto a girl. 

Y/N sighed. “It was like high school was repeating itself, you know? I didn’t get to have my fresh start.”

He nodded, trying to understand what she went through. They never ran in the same circles in high school, but it was hard not to hear the rumors going around about who she was sleeping with. He assumed Billy was the one to start them and let it be. Looking back, he wished he had stood up for her. 

“It sucks,” he began warily, not knowing if it was okay to speak. When she looked up at him, it gave him the courage to continue. “When other people decide who they think you are. I-I mean, I didn’t go through that but I do have problems with the way people perceive me, my reputation.”

“I-I mean that’s when all my panic attacks started I just- I couldn’t stay there. It’s so stupid…”

“It’s not!” Steve reassured her. “Not stupid in the slightest. I would have left too if it were me. I mean, I didn’t even get into college. There was nowhere for me to run.” The more he began to speak of his own problems, the more anxious he became. “Not that what I went through was worse than you, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to turn the conversation on to me-”

“-No, Steve, it’s okay. I get it, you’re just trying to relate to me.” He nodded - it was like she took the words right out of his mouth. “Could we go back to yours? If I remember those high school parties correctly, you have a pool.”

“Sure. Y-yeah cool,” he blubbered. He couldn’t remember the last time talking to a girl made him anxious like this. Trying to catch his cool, they headed toward Loch Nora. 

“The back door should be unlocked,” Steve informed Y/N as they approached his house. 

It wasn’t a far walk from the bus stop they got off on and he could still see his car parked in the driveway - but only his car. Robin had told him ahead of time that she was going to sleep at her own home for once that week - her parents wanting to see more of her.

“Wow, it’s exactly how I remembered it,” Y/N commented as he opened the back gate.

He looked back at her. “You remember what my house looks like?”

Shrugging, she said, “Like I said, I went to a couple of your parties.” The pool’s lights illuminated the otherwise dark backyard, steam rising from its surface. “Now this is what I’m talking about.”

Without warning, Y/N pulled her shirt off, moving to pull down her pants. Steve’s eyes went wide, turning around to give her privacy. “What are you doing?”

“Getting in your pool? I don’t know about you, Harrington, but I don’t carry a bathing suit with me.”

“I guess…” Steve said, suddenly unsure of their plan. 

It was just like a bikini right? Only it felt so much more intimate. He heard a splash from behind him, a gasp as she rose to the surface for air. 

“You coming in?”

Slowly he turned around facing her as she grazed her hands over the surface of the water. She looked so majestic with her hair slicked back. He felt like deer in headlights as he looked at her. He could go inside, grab one of the many swimming trunks he had in his closet. But instead, he opted to strip down to his boxers, leveling the playing field. 

He could tell she was surprised, not thinking he would do the same thing as her. But nonetheless he jumped right in. The splash completely covered her but she didn’t seem to mind, already dunking her head moments before. When he rose to the surface, he inhaled deeply. 

“Hey!” She exclaimed, wiping water from her eyes. 

“You were already wet!” He retorted.

Without warning, she lunged herself at him. Steve felt as she collided with his chest, sending him falling back into the water, taking her with him. He barely had enough time to breathe before he felt himself submerged back under the surface. On instinct, an arm wrapped around her midsection, balancing her against him as he used his legs to push them back up for air.

Breaking the surface tension, he felt Y/N cling to him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she tried to balance against his bent knee. They were both gasping for air, taking a moment to recover. But the moment she looked up at him, those beautiful eyes he stared into at the diner, it was like a damn broke. 

She smiled, letting out a giggle and he too couldn’t keep a straight face. As her face buried in his neck he asked, “What was that for?”

“I don’t know, it looked like you needed to have fun,” she responded. 

“So you pushed me.”

Y/N lifted her head from his neck, her hands still around his neck. “You’re a very pushable person.”

“Oh am I?”

“Definitely.” She giggled, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. “I could stay like this forever.”

Steve smiled, his cheeks getting warmer. “Me too. It’s like a little pocket out of time. We don’t have to think about the future.”

“Or the past…” She was silent for a second, her fingers still moving and Steve tried his best to stay still. A beautiful girl was practically sitting on his lap and he was trying to hard to not fuck it up. 

“That first session, you talked about all the loss you’ve been around. Is there a reason for that?”

“Interdimensional monsters,” he blurted out. It felt good to say the truth even if it was met with a laugh. Who would believe in another dimension anyway?

“Fine don’t tell me,” she said, letting her hands rest on his shoulders. 

The cool touch of her fingers spread across him, down through his chest. It was hard to stop thinking about how little fabric separated them, especially with the way her fingers grazed his skin.

For a moment he almost swore she looked down at his lips. “I bet…” she began, tilting her head back to show her thinking. “That you have daddy issues.”

“Who doesn’t?”

She giggled, her forehead tipping forward, almost touching his. A piece of hair fell across her face and without thinking he reached up to brush it away. Y/N looked up at him, their eyes meeting as he softly pushed the strand behind her ear. 

This time, he knew for certain, she had looked at his lips, right after he did the same.

The little space left between them closed as Y/N leaned forward, capturing his mouth. It was softer than he would had thought. Her rough exterior not matching her tender touch. He felt her arms wrap back around him, fingers gripping his hair. He let out a moan, tightening the grip he had on her waist.

She pulled back for a moment, only to tilt her head to the other side, her lips crashing back down on his. A small whimper let out from her mouth and Steve felt like he died and went to heaven. He wanted to hear it again, to be the only one that made her sound that way. It was intoxicating, like a vampire thirsting for blood. 

He let his kisses trail down her cheek, reattaching himself to her throat. She moaned even louder and he never wanted to let go. 

“That feels nice,” she said, breathlessly. The grip on his hair grew tighter but he didn’t mind. She could poke, pull, or prod, any part of him and he would let her.

“You feel nice.”

Without meaning too, she pressed down on his lap. And even through their underwear and the water of the pool, Steve felt ecstatic. He detached himself from her neck gasping at the pressure. 

“Jesus Christ,” he murmured to himself but it might have been louder than he expected. 

Y/N looked up at him with a smile. But as her eyes found his, Steve was confused as to why it started to vanish. Detaching herself from him, he watched as she floated away until her back hit the pool wall. 

Something was wrong, he just knew it. Was it something he did or said? Was it the kiss?

“I should probably go,” she told him, pulling herself out of the pool. 

“Oh,” he said in surprise. Why the rush to leave so quickly? “Okay…”

As he joined her by the lounging chairs, he watched as she tried to put a leg through her pants. 

“Wait,” he stopped her, putting a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him before straightening her back. “Don’t put your clothes over your wet ones.”

“How else would I-“

He interrupted her, knowing if he didn’t say what was in his mind he’d lose the courage to say it. 

“-you can stay. Like, stay over?”

Why was he this nervous? He had plenty of girls over before. But with her, things felt different. Y/N raised her eyebrows at his comment. 

“If you want to,” he rushed out to say. “You could take a shower, I could dry your clothes and-“

“Okay,” she spoke over him. 

It felt like all the air left his body. “Yeah?” He asked again for reassurance. Slowly she nodded, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Okay yeah. Cool, um…this way.”

Steve’s hands twitched nervously as he sat on his bed. Y/N was in the shower, due to come out any minute. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had a girl over before. Just that the last person to sleep in his bed broke his heart. They had shared a space, gotten warm together under his blankets, baked in the morning sun. It held more meaning to him than he realized before.

As he clutched his hands, trying to calm himself down, the door creaked open. He looked up, watching as Y/N hesitantly peered in. As soon as he saw her face, it was like there was a calm that washed over him. The idea of having someone sleep in his bed filled him with anxiety, but when he saw Y/N it all faded away. He wanted her next to him, he wanted to share his space with her. 

Closing the door behind her, Y/N stood awkwardly across the room. But Steve couldn’t help but smile. She looked so cute in his clothes, the fabric clinging to her skin in ways that left little to the imagination. 

“I left the towel in the laundry room,” she said. “I hope that was okay.” 

“Yeah,” he said quickly, being pulled from his thoughts. “Yup that’s okay. I already started the load on drying your clothes.” 

“Cool,” she said, intertwining her fingers in front of her. 

Steve motioned to his bed. “Do you prefer a side or-”

She shook her head. “Nope. I-I’m fine with either.”

Steve hummed an agreement, moving to take the ride side of the bed. He watched her join on the other side as he pushed the covers back. They both had romantic experiences; both sleeping with someone else in their bed. But in the moment, it felt like they were little kids again.

Steve carefully covered both of them, sinking back down into his mattress. He tried not to touch her, to give her space after what happened in the pool. And with her past, he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Starting at the ceiling he heard Y/N sigh. Turning his head he could see her covering her face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, turning to face her. “D-do you want to sleep in my parents room? They’re not home-”

“No, this is perfectly fine just,” she dropped her hands onto her chest as she stared up, not meeting his gaze. He could see her eyes getting watery, a tear on the verge of falling. “I-I don’t wanna do anything with you like- sexually. And I’m sorry if that’s blunt but after everything with Gary-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he reassured her to try and show her this was a safe space. “I wasn’t expecting to, honestly.”

She turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Really?” she asked, not convinced. 

“Really,” he replied. “I haven’t really been the same since Nance and I broke up and- nevermind it’s not important. I could leave if this is too much.”

“No I want you here I really do I’m just…confused. I don’t know.” 

She buried her head in her hands again, probably to stop him from seeing her start to cry. Steve ached for her. To see her like this, to know that this was the fault of another person. That a person could do that to someone else. 

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he told her, moving the comforter aside. “That way we won’t be alone but we can have our space.”

She looked back at him, her cheeks wet with tears. “No, I don't wanna make you sleep on the floor in your own room.”

“It’s nothing really,” he dismissed, grabbing his pillow and a spare blanket that was thrown across his desk chair. “Trust me, I’ve slept in worse places than on a rugged floor.”

“If I wasn’t a mess right now I’d ask you to elaborate.”

He fluffed his pillow, pulling the blanket up over his shoulders. Y/N peered over the bed, still unsure of the sleeping arrangement though he could tell it was putting her more at ease. 

“A conversation for another time,” he said and he swore he could see a smile on his face.

“Okay,” she said softly, her head disappearing as she laid back down on the bed. 

There was silence for a moment and Steve thought that she had fallen asleep. But her soft voice glided through the air. 

“Steve?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

There was another beat. Another moment of silence before he heard her whisper, “Thank you.”

Even on the floor of his room, the sun found a way to shine on his face. The warm light slowly woke him up, making him rub his eyes in an attempt to not blind himself. He almost forgot he was on the floor of his room until he rolled over to open his nightside drawer, feeling his hand brush against the floor instead. 

As his eyes came into focus, he willed himself to sit up. Why was he on the floor again? Right, Y/N. Beautiful Y/N who should be asleep on his bed. But as he leaned his head up to see over the edge of the mattress, he was met with an empty bed. The covers were made neatly, all pillows back in place, as if no one had even slept there the night before. 

Steve rubbed his eyes, like if he cleared himself from his sleepy haze she would materialize in his room. But as his eyes began to focus again, he found he was still alone. Grunting, he stood up, pulling the pillow and blanket he had used with him. He looked around the room and it seemed that nothing was out of place.

Did he imagine last night? Did he feel so alone that he willed himself to believe that Y/N actually slept over? His eyes continued to scan for anything out of place, a breath of relief when they landed on his dresser.

The clothes he had lent her were neatly stacked on his desk and if he had to guess, her drying clothes in the laundry room would be gone. So he hadn’t imagined it. What happened? Why was she in such a rush to leave?

Maybe she regretted the night before, thinking he hadn’t changed since his days at King Steve. Perhaps the kiss was too much and she regretted it. Steve’s mind spiraled down a dark hole he knew too well. If he didn’t stop now, he would trigger another panic attack.

Taking a moment before getting ready for the day, he sat down on his bed, closing his eyes. He just needed to breathe. In and out, in and out. Over and over again he focused on his breath, letting all his energy go into calming himself down.

He needed to talk to Y/N. To clarify everything from last night before it ate away at him. 

Steve drove himself to therapy the following week. Partly because Robin was still back at her parents, and partly because he needed more time to think. As the time of the group session approached, he felt his heart rate begin to rise. His thoughts raced faster than they did when he woke up to find her gone.

He just needed to get there. Seeing her would calm him, reassure him that he didn’t fuck up. But as he parked his car and raced inside, he was saddened to find that she wasn’t there. Maybe she was just late. She had been late in the past, it was logical to assume she could be late today. 

Matt and Sam had tried to talk to him but he only politely nodded as they spoke. His tongue felt too heavy in his mouth. Like lifting it to speak would only result in incoherent babbling. Thankfully, Dr. Ackerman’s presence let him stay silent. 

The session began and Steve found himself staring at the door. He nodded, giving short answers when required but his attention was still trained on the closed door. She had to walk through the door. To join their weekly sessions. But as the topic drifted from one person to another, Y/N never arrived. 

Steve was quick to leave, rushing to the parking lot to see if she had missed the session and was just arriving. To his disappointment, she wasn’t there. Not even a lingering smell of cigarettes in the air from her usual smoking spot. 

He arrived early for the next session, and the next, and soon a whole month went by without her attending. Every session his eyes stayed on the door, willing her to walk through. Maybe if he was like Eleven, telepathically gifted, he could find out where she was. No, he thought. Even with those powers, it would be an invasion of privacy. And he didn’t want to be where he wasn’t welcomed. 

Robin had been spending more and more time with her parents to figure out packing for the fall semester so Steve had been driving himself more often in Y/N’s absence.

Another missed therapy session had him driving home in silence, not even the radio playing to fill the void. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel in an irregular pattern as he turned onto his street. Slowly, his house came into view and he could see the vague outline of someone sitting on the front steps. 

That’s weird, he thought to himself. Robin had a key, most people in the party did for emergencies. So why was she waiting outside?

As he pulled closer, almost fully into the driveway, his eyes adjusted. It wasn’t Robin, or anyone he had fought monsters with. It was Y/N. 

Y/N, smoking a cigarette as she patiently waited for him to come home. He felt himself falter, his foot almost slamming on the brakes. She was here, more beautiful than the last time he saw her – though it was pretty hard for her to look anything but perfect. 

The engine revved as he pulled into the driveway, pulling Y/N’s attention to him. Quickly, she stood up, putting her cigarette out with the heel of her shoe. Steve felt glued to the inside of the car. Their eyes had met, not separating as he put in the car in park. All he wanted was to get out and speak to her. But something in his chest tightened. If she had been avoiding him for the past week, she had her reasons. And part of him didn’t want to know for certain he was the problem.

He tried to move, he truly did. But his anxiety was ruling over his brain and he didn’t know how to stop it. Thankfully, Y/N seemed to notice. Moving forward, she opened his passenger door and climbed in. He never took his eyes off her, even when she turned her back to close the door. 

Turning back to him, she weakly said, “Hey.”

“H-hi,” he managed to blurt out. Silence hung in the air, as he figured out what to say. Y/N continued to speak. “Sorry to show up at your house, I didn’t mean to be a bother.”

“You’re not a bother,” he blurted out. “Y-you’re never a bother.”

He was looking directly into her eyes, his gaze never wavering. It didn’t break until Y/N looked down at her lap and he could have sworn he saw a small smile form on her lips. A moment passed, then two, and neither of them talked. 

Despite being uncomfortable with long silences, Steve didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t feel like his social battery drained when he was around her. If anything, she made him feel more alive. She knew what he was going through, one of the best kept secrets in his life and she knew. 

“I missed you,” she said softly, still looking down at her lap.

“I’ve missed you too…Louise keeps talking about her one night stands and I don’t think I can take any more of it,” he said, gaining back some composure from earlier.

Y/N laughed, her shoulders hunching forward. She looked back up at him, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of his. As the smile slowly faded from her face, her eyes remained on his. It was clear she wanted to talk about what happened. Maybe she just needed a push.

“Do you…wanna talk about it?” Steve asked. 

She shook her head slightly. “I don’t know it’s just – when I woke up in your room, my mind immediately went back to Gary.” She paused for a moment and he let her gather her thoughts. “I just went into a spiral like I did with him. Like did I force you to kiss me? Did you really want me sleeping in your bed or did I coerce you to? What would people think if they see the town whore sleeping with the former king of Hawkins High just – it’s stupid, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not stupid,” he said immediately, reaching his hands out on the center console. He didn’t want to touch her without asking, but wanted to let her know he was there if she needed to. He sighed. 

“I didn’t expect to kiss you that night,” he continued. She looked up at him, biting the inside of her cheek. “But that didn’t mean I didn’t want you to. You in no way forced me to kiss you…and I was the one who wanted you to stay. I-I should’ve been more vocal so you didn’t feel forced to.”

Y/N nodded, leaning forward with her hands on the center console, not quite touching his. 

“If you want to keep seeing me, friend or something more, I promise I will walk you through everything thought in my head so we’re on the same page.”

She raised an eyebrow, some color coming back to her face. “Every thought?”

He nodded. “Oh for sure. Like how I’ve been craving a ham and cheese sandwich since I woke up this morning.” She giggled again at his obvious attempt to make her feel better. “And like how I’d really like to hold your hand right now.”

He stared at her in his car, the sun slowly setting outside, and felt the touch of her fingers against his. It felt like an immediate release, a tightness he didn’t know was there unfolding in his chest. 

“I would like to keep seeing you too,” she told him, and it was like his heart was doing a million leaps of joy. “I don’t know if I can handle anything more right now,”

“-and that is completely fine with me,” he reassured her quickly, feeling a tight squeeze of reassurance in his hand.

“Thank you for understanding. In the future, if I’m ready…I’d like to explore that possibility with you.”

Steve gave her a big grin, not trying to hide what he was feeling. “Good, uh, that’s good to know.”

They sat in his car, hands intertwined like the rest of the world didn’t matter. Like their pasts and reputations didn’t haunt them like a shadow. For now, they had each other and that was all they could ask for. 

Steve didn’t need some fancy school or big corporate job. Just someone who understood him, who knew what it was like to feel the things he felt and not be judged. 

He was happy he finally found someone who did just that.

Taglist: @afraidofshrimp @halflifejess @nix-rose @palmtreesx3 @cilliansnostolgia @sweetdazequeen

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Put your music on shuffle, then reblog and put in the tags the first song that comes on! Let’s share music together.

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New stickers for my water bottle what do we think?

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Ok hear me out casual intimacy with Steve!! Like imagine the first time u shower together and u just wash his hair for him! The first time u change in front of him or wen ur wearing an oversized t shirt and like skimpy panties and go over to the couch where he is and sit in his lap it's the moments where it's such so much trust and love low key him realizing how comfy u are around him and how much u trust him he gets turned on

Brushing ur teeth together at his place? Man is half hard already

ohooooo casual intimacy IS his turn on you’re so goddamn right — this is just like, sweet domesticity <3 and steve then gets turned on by it hehehe + fade to black smut

There had been a period of time after you got together where Steve sometimes wondered if you were ever going to properly relax around him. Like truly relax.

Not that he minded in the least! Watching you avert your gaze nervously, feeling your face glow all hot when he calls you honey, feeling the little tremble in your fingers when you hold his hand— Steve adores it all.

He knows it means you like him. And Steve likes you too.

He likes you a whole bunch— like a lot a lot, okay? In fact, if he probably told you how much he likes you, you’d probably melt and hide under the covers and never return. Which Steve doesn’t ever want.

So you’re a bit reserved and Steve’s still crazy for you and it works. But basically, he never really expected to get this.

“D’ya wanna, like, maybe, shower together?”

Steve blinks, his towel in one hand and his heart pounding in his chest. Did you just say that? He blinks again, just to be sure.

You’re staring at him from your place on his bed, probably being the bravest you’ve ever been considering what you’ve just asked him.

“Yeah- yes. Of course.” He stammers out before you can get too shy on him. “I’ll go get another towel.”

It doesn’t take long for him to snag another from the linen cupboard but by the time he’s back, he can hear the spray of the shower. You’ve left a trail of clothes leading up to it. Something warm stirs in his chest.

He doesn’t make a big deal about it and you seem grateful for it. Beyond the odd complaint about hogging the water, to which Steve sticks his tongue out at you before switching, it’s almost like an ordinary shower. Washing up, wetting his hair.

Except, y’know, til you offer to wash it.

I swear to god do not get a boner right now, Steve thinks desperately to himself, his head ducked down so you could reach it more easily. You’re not making it easy for him. You’re paying him so much attention, your fingertips soothing along his scalp as you lather up the shampoo, massaging the skin. It’s heaven.

Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this relaxed whilst the two of you have no clothes on.

You’ve been trying not to be so iffy about being naked but honestly Steve didn’t care if you were forever. He likes you any way he can get you.

Usually, the lead up to sex is the only time Steve gets to see you naked— when it’s all charged air and an eager energy to start making each other feel good. Hot kisses and a feverish vision of pleasure.

But this… this is different. There’s no charged energy, just a low buzz of love.

You cup your hands over his eyes so shampoo doesn’t get in them when you tilt his head back to rinse it and Steve nearly cries then and there. He’s never been so happy to return a favour, letting you lean up against him as he soaps up your hair. He’s pretty sure your eyes are closed the whole time. It feels good, taking care of you. It makes him happy.

Afterward, as you towel off, Steve keeps expecting that familiar shyness to creep in.

He’s not watching, okay? But as he gets himself dressed, just in his pyjama pants, it doesn’t go unnoticed that you’re not scrambling to cover up. Instead, you’re at ease, slipping on your panties and then one of his own large t-shirts. You must’ve stolen it when he wasn’t in the room.

It makes him pause, a momentary gawk, before he remembers to close his mouth. You catch the end of it and a flustered expression crosses your face, as if realising how much you’re exposing yourself. And that just won’t do— so Steve remedies it with a kiss, dragging you over to him by the waist so he can lean up against the counter and kiss you sweetly.

You both have wet hair. Your skin is all dewey from the shower and your eyelashes look extra long when they’re wet. You’re fucking beautiful.

It’s all Steve can think as you both brush your teeth in the mirror— making eye contact every couple of seconds and grinning like goofballs. It’s not productive. Steve adores it.

You’re both half-dressed, you without pants and Steve without his shirt, and it’s so damn homey, so cozy, so in love, that it makes Steve’s chest a little tight, in a good way. It’s intimate. You trust him.

Oh my god, He thinks. You trust him.

His pants grow tight. The flimsy material of his pyjamas hide nothing. Steve holds one hand in front of his crotch and looks to the ceiling for strength, because there’s no way you won’t be able to notice.

You lean over and spit out your toothpaste and then look at him through the mirror.

“Steve?”

“Yah?” He gargles back, toothbrush still in his mouth, eyes still on ceiling. His cock thickens a little more in his pants, blood getting a little hotter.

“Are you…?”

He gives a big sigh through his nose, “Yah.”

He finally forces himself to met your eyes through the mirror and you’re… smiling? Almost mischievously. Oh god.

“Because… of the teeth brushing?”

Steve rolls his eyes but the embarrassed flush on his cheeks still gives him away. He leans over and spits his toothpaste, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

“No, not cos of the— well, not just cos of the—“ He cuts himself off, the blush on his face beginning to spread down his neck. “Look, you washed my hair and you’re not wearing any pants! We’re brushing our teeth together! I like it, okay?”

In a complete reversal of the usual, suddenly Steve’s the flustered one and you’re the cool, calm one. Your smile only grows at his explanation, some of the mischief exchanging for fondness.

“That’s okay,” You say softly. You press up on your toes to kiss his cheek and wander towards the door. “Do you wanna cuddle tonight?”

Steve’s cock gets harder at your words and he groans, because he knows you know what you’re doing— especially when you laugh a little, a cheeky sound. You’re playing into his in-love fantasy, his domestic dream, that somehow has a direct line to his dick now, which is probably most definitely a problem for later.

“You know I do.”

“Well, c’mon then, loverboy,” You coo.

Steve chases you from the bathroom all the way to his sheets, your laughter louder and more beautiful than anything.

And he does get his cuddles —y’know, after he fucks your brains out.

[tooearlyforthis]

Thinking about him (Steve Harrington)

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my group therapy wip might end of being 13k words… 🫢

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JOE KEERY My Life in 20 Questions | PopBuzz

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all I want to do is finish the first draft of my Steve x oc fic but my adhd brain wants to go back and start editing 😫

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this guy is such a loser i want him in my bed immediately

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Kissing scene without my shaking, breathing and unfocused camera