#i'm not even romancing him and he's giving her snack 🤣 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iamnicodemus · 4 months ago

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As someone who (as you know) knows fuck all about Stranger Things, this fic might be my sign to give it a shot; if the show is half as good as this story was, I know I'll be a very happy binge-watcher indeed. Seriously, this was an incredible read. Had my heart in a vice from start-to-finish (in the best possible way).

Hospital hallways had a knack for looking and feeling like the perfect setting for a horror movie, especially on nights like these, where said hallways were mostly empty. It was a good thing, for a hospital not to be crowded, but with the cold air, the white walls and tiles, the lonely chairs beside the snack machine, and the only company in sight being the receptionist; your skin was constantly crawling with goosebumps.

Starting us off with a very effective scene-setter. Definitely can see where she's coming from with the horror vibes lol.

Steve Harrington walking through the hospital doors, the bright artificial lights illuminating his beat-up face. One of his eyes was swollen and there was a good amount of blood on his cheek, lips, and nose, his knuckles were bruised as well and he walked with hunched shoulders. You never expected to see Steve trying to make himself look smaller.

Sheesh, hope he gave as good as he got 😬

Steve and you weren’t friends, maybe it would be a stretch to even say you were colleagues.

Oh just you wait 😏

Your voice held an overly dramatic tone for a promise you didn’t believe in. But for some reason, you wanted him to believe it. You wanted him to believe in a reality where hearts didn’t get broken and stomped over.

I adore this sentiment. Even if it holds no weight with her, the fact that she wants him to believe it is the sweetest thing.

a whispered comment here, a mocking laugh there, and soon everyone was aware that Nancy dumped Steve.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Steve hated how his voice broke, but he was so damn grateful that you were there; otherwise, he’d be on his own, and that’s the last thing he wanted right now. You’d never heard him sound so defeated. He had a hand over his eyes, breathing erratic. You wondered if this was his first heartbreak.

Aww man 🥺his heartbreak over losing Nancy is so painfully well-written. The tightness in his chest, the weakening voice, the tears- ugh.

“I think she doesn’t love me anymore.” You turned to him slowly. The pain was evident in his voice, eyes downcast and you saw the outline of his lower lip trembling. You wanted to reach out, but didn’t. “I’m starting to think that… maybe she never did love me.” He shrugged, trying to play off his pain.

Fuuuuuck💔

Steve stopped in front of you, cheeks scraped and beaten, blood smudged under his nose, and bruises already forming under the floral bandaid he had on his forehead.

Steve, my man, I'm gonna need you to duck and weave a little better from now on, a'ight brother? We can't keep doing this 🤣

Heart probably ripped in half, hair messier than ever, dark circles under his eyes, crimson red blood taking up most of his skin as a telltale of what you could only imagine was a reckless act of courage, and still, he held onto a tiny smile for you. The affection you developed for him made your heart thunder and bleed.

She's so sweet on him 🥺 I loved this scene. After the heartbreak he's been through, seeing the little seeds of their romance start to take off was a lovely reprieve <3

You didn’t do dates, you didn’t like the idea of letting people close enough to ask you on them. Steve should know that too, he’s had his heart broken too.

ohhhh I'm sensing some more angst in the near future :o

Raising her hands in mock surrender, Robin chuckled; “sorry loverboy, you were practically eating her with your eyes, so I assumed-” “Was not,” Steve grumbled. “-that she was the 'beautiful girl who helps at the hospital and cared for me once and now I’m head over heels in love with her’.” Robin finished with a smug grin, leaning back on the wall behind her.

Robin seems like a gem 😂

Talking with Steve was easy; and there wasn’t a day where he couldn’t pull a smile out of you, as miserable as you might be, he made you happy. And every time, in the few minutes just before you walked out your door, knowing that he would be there, outside waiting for you, your stomach would flutter and your skin would feel hot, even more so after he touched you.

Blushing, giggling, kicking my feet-

For when something is real, it can hurt you. You pulled your hand away from his with a gulp, shoulders growing tense as you curled in on yourself a little.

Oh no.

The look he gave you squeezed your heart painfully. You looked away. “I- I’m sorry, Steve. I- we can’t.”

Please, don't do this-

“Steve, stop.” You snapped, harsher than you wanted to. Your palms were flush against the table as so to ground yourself, and the outline of Steve’s lips started to get blurry in your vision. You bit back the tears. He could only look at you, those gentle eyes of his so confused, tilting his head to the side as a puppy would.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

damn it, we were so close 😭

Esther, how could you

You mustered up the courage to go see him when fireworks were painting the sky in a multitude of colors on the 4th of July. You would apologize, you would hold his hands and kiss him senseless if he let you.

YES PLEASE

But you never got to do it.

SHIT

“Oh, you won’t have to tell me again because I’ll-” Before you could get yourself arrested, a familiar voice interrupted you.

oh she's fr about to start boxing the authorities to get to her man 😭she's a keeper

The hug was as desperate as you felt since your mother called you earlier, you clutched at Steve’s shoulders and buried your head on his neck; feeling the warmth of his body against yours, because he was alive, and he was okay, and he was here.

Their reunion was everything it needed to be and more. God, her distress leading up to it was palpable. And the relief when she realizes he's okay (if a bit worse for wear, but what else is knew?)-

“What happened to you?” “The mall burned down.” You sighed, tilting your head to try and catch his gaze. “Did the mall also beat you up while it was burning down?”

I wouldn't be surprised at this point. Every other corner of his life seems to

Steve would happily drown in your comfort.

As would I, and reading through this story, it rather felt like I did 💓

“A while ago, before we met, I trusted someone,” you glanced out his window as you recalled it, “and they broke that trust, they- they used me. Got what they wanted and then just… vanished. It made me feel like a trophy, for a game, the ones that get discarded right after it ends.”

They must be out of their goddamn minds then. Fuck em; Steve would never

With a hand behind your head, Steve pulled you into a kiss, one that you both melted into, clinging to each other as if this was your last day on earth together. Your hands made a mess of his hair and his arms closed around your waist as he pulled you impossibly closer.

God, this kiss feels so earned. I love them. I love every bit of this story and what it took to get here. They deserve the whole world ❣️

This was amazing. I'm so glad it was brought to my attention. Splendid work <3

cross my heart (and hope to die)

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Every time Steve gets hurt, you're there to help pick up the pieces; you just weren't expecting him to fall for you in the process.

A/N: Steve my beloved <3. Hope you guys like this one, it started as one thing and took a massive turn as I was writing it, anyway, I think it turned out good? Let me know. Any flashbacks are in italics.

Word count: 8,9k

Masterlist

Your sneakers were scratching against the recently mopped floor, the pungent smell of disinfectant made you scrunch your nose. It was a bit of a sight, your jeans and red flannel under the white doctor's coat your mother insisted you wore. That's probably why you hardly told people about it.

In your hands, you held two patient records, one for the kid who annoyed the hell out of you, and the other for the old woman who told you all about her cactuses and succulents. As you reached the receptionist's counter, you slid the two papers over to the older woman, who was stacking a few files of her own. "Hey Claire, these are from the ones who got out today."

"Thank you Y/N, tell your mother to come to see me before she leaves okay?"

"Will do." You tapped the counter and were about to turn and leave when the main glass doors were pushed open.

You were greeted with a sight you weren't expecting to see today; Steve Harrington walking through the hospital doors, the bright artificial lights illuminating his beat-up face. One of his eyes was swollen and there was a good amount of blood on his cheek, lips, and nose, his knuckles were bruised as well and he walked with hunched shoulders. You never expected to see Steve trying to make himself look smaller.

And you must be looking at him with quite the face because from one glance at you he quickly averted his eyes, fumbling with the zipper on his jacket as he reached the counter.

You cursed under your breath for your lack of manners, and awkwardly hovered by the end of the counter. Why you stayed? You couldn't tell.

Steve and you weren't friends, maybe it would be a stretch to even say you were colleagues. You shared a few classes with him, had been put together in some group projects but that was about it. He had been enough of a douche lately for you to not pay much attention, or, at least he walked with the kind of people that were massive douches back at school.

Carefully laying his hands on top of the counter, Steve leaned forward, licking his lips before he addressed Claire. "Hi, I was- I was kind of hoping to get this looked at." He vaguely gestured to his face.

Claire looked at him from over her glasses, a frown on her lips from a lifetime of dealing with teenage drama. She nodded, and made quick work of making a patient record for him.

It took maybe a minute, but the silence that engulfed the reception hall of the hospital was heavily awkward. Claire wrote calmly with her pen, you found the stain on your sneakers to be really interesting all of a sudden, and Steve was shuffling in his stance, his fingers tapping the counter in an unsteady rhythm.

"Y/N, will you please?" Claire's voice made you snap your gaze up to her. She was handing you his new record.

"Sure." You nodded, already knowing the routine. You took the paper and forced your gaze to meet the one from the boy next to you.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Follow me."

The room she assigned to Steve was a bit of a walk, and he followed you through the hospital hallways in silence for about twenty seconds.

"I didn't know you worked at a hospital."

You knew it was coming, you saw the curiosity swimming in his eyes. Your lips quirked up slightly. "I volunteer. My mom works here."

Steve's lips parted in a silent 'oh', he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket and walked faster to fall into step beside you. "That's cool."

"I guess, for the most part, it is." You fumbled with the paper in your hands, feeling his eyes on your profile.

"Do you also help in surgeries and stuff?"

You chuckled, "no, I don't. I help with the more simple stuff… Uh- organizing materials, checking in on patients, keeping company, taking them to their rooms." You glanced at him with a smile. Tentative, only to see what kind of person you had in your hands.

And when you were met with a chuckle and a smile of his own, you figured he was more approachable when alone.

Just before reaching the room assigned to him, you passed by a snack machine. Steve's face lit up in a way that reminded you of the little kids you're always escorting around, one hand already fishing for his wallet. "Can I?" He pointed a finger at the old thing.

"Yeah, go ahead." You shrugged, leaning against the wall while he picked what to eat. You selfishly allowed yourself to look at him then. It was no secret that he was handsome, the fact that most of your friends were swooning over him was proof enough, but there was something different about seeing him here and now; alone in a hospital hallway with blood staining his shirt and a gash on his lip that reopened when he smiled as his snack fell from the machine.

He hummed when he took the first bite, closing his eyes momentarily. "You want one too?" He asked with a full mouth.

Your eyebrows shot up at his offer, you almost took too long to answer. "Uh no, I'm good."

The room you took him to was one of the smaller ones, with just one bed, but it had a window and a TV, so that was a plus for him. After telling Steve he could sit on the bed to wait for a proper doctor, you couldn't help but ask; "what happened to you?"

Steve's expression fell, he scoffed and ran a hand through his already messy hair. "Isn't it obvious?"

Technically, it was. Someone beat him up. But who would dare to beat up the king of Hawkins High?

A lone droplet of blood escaped his nose, he was quick to wipe it away with the sleeve of his jacket. "I did something stupid, or at least didn't stop it from happening, and got what I deserved I guess."

You tilted your head with a frown, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you looked at him. "Why'd you do it, the stupid thing?"

"I was angry, and hurt… There's this girl and I…" He sighed, shaking his head. His legs swung back and forth while he picked at the white sheets. "It's stupid."

You would agree, if you two were closer. You would tell him that it's not worth it and he will only end up hurt. You had seen Steve and Nancy Wheeler being cozy together in school earlier this week; you also saw her running off with Jonathan earlier today. It was easy to guess.

"For what's worth," you set his record on the clip at the foot of his bed, "I think she'll come around." Walking backwards to the door you gave him a wink. "And you'll be okay, wounds like that tend to heal pretty fast."

Steve had a lazy smile on his lips, a look in his eyes you couldn't figure out. "Yeah? You promise?"

With one hand on the doorknob, you gave him a cheeky smile of your own. "Cross my heart," you traced an 'x' over your heart, "and hope to die." Your voice held an overly dramatic tone for a promise you didn't believe in. But for some reason, you wanted him to believe it. You wanted him to believe in a reality where hearts didn't get broken and stomped over.

And Steve chuckled again just before you left his room. The somber expression he walked in with was gone, in its place laid newfound hope, and while fragile, it was there.

______

After your encounter with Steve at the hospital, he surprised you by seeking you out at school. You shared a good amount of classes, and given that he stopped being friends with Tommy and Carol overnight, it was only natural for him to stick with you. You were well on your way to call each other friends. He became a constant part of your day over the last months.

And now, on Halloween night, part of you regretted giving him hope with that one promise. Gossip moved fast on a house filled with teens, a whispered comment here, a mocking laugh there, and soon everyone was aware that Nancy dumped Steve.

It was ugly, and that's why you avoided places like these, but someone convinced you to attend this one party;

"So, what are you going as?" Steve asked as he stuffed his books inside his backpack. He sat beside you, as he usually did nowadays.

The classroom was slowly emptying as you got up from your chair, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"Tina's Halloween party, what are you going as?"

You scoffed. As if. "I'm not going to that."

You made to walk past him, but he got up and took hold of your backpack, forcing you to halt on your steps.

"What do you mean you're not going? Of course you're going."

Why he wanted you there so much was beyond you, he had Nancy for christ's sake. You sighed, giving up on trying to brush through the conversation like you'd been doing for the whole week. "Why would I go there? To drink cheap beer in a house full of sweaty and handsy people?"

Steve's hand landed on your elbow, a gentle touch that you were well too aware of. "To have fun, I mean, do you ever get out?"

Your face scrunched up as if he'd insulted you. "I go out."

"Hospital work and school don't count."

You slapped his hand away with a chuckle, ducking your head and walking to the door because the teacher was already giving you a side eye for still being in the empty classroom. "I go out, okay pretty boy? I'm just not a fan of those types of… parties."

Steve fell into step beside you, it was strange how normal it was becoming to have his shoulder bumping into yours as you walked, how his presence became something you missed when he wasn't around. "I know but, it's our last chance at those, right? It'll be fun, just this once. I'll pick up Nance and, if you want, we can pass by your house too."

No one could convince you to go, no one ever did, because you really didn't like going to high school parties. But he managed, maybe it was the crinkle in his eyes when he smiled, or the way his hair fell over his forehead as he skipped in front of you.

"Why do you want me there so badly?" You dared to ask, leaning your back against the brick wall of the school's hallway.

Steve's lips hovered open for a moment in dangerous silence, before he shrugged and averted his gaze. "I just want you to have fun."

"Okay. But I'm not dressing up as anything."

Steve walked out of the bathroom with a tightness on his chest that went all the way up to his throat and made it hard to breathe. Bullshit. Maybe she was right, but it didn't stop the hurting.

He was searching for you amongst the crowd before he even realized it. The party was still going full force, loud music now annoying to his ears as he squeezed his way between the drunk students.

Everyone was looking at him, girls whispering in each other's ears as he walked by. Steve put his sunglasses back on, he knew there were tears pooling on the bottom lid of his eyes and he'd be damned if anyone saw it.

You found him before he found you. He felt your reassuring touch on his black blazer and he knew it was you before he even saw you. He didn't allow himself to think about it.

"Hey," you closed a hand around his wrist, taking his hand felt way too intimate, "you okay?"

It was a dumb question and you cursed yourself for asking it. Comforting people was definitely not your expertise.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, his fingers grasping the ends of it as he sighed.

"Why don't we get out of here? I could use some fresh air." You suggested, because Steve looked like a lost puppy right now, everyone was doing a poor job of pretending not to look at him and you saw Nancy going off with Jonathan just a minute ago.

"Yeah, you're right." Steve hated how his voice broke, but he was so damn grateful that you were there; otherwise, he'd be on his own, and that's the last thing he wanted right now. You guided him to the door and out the house, the cold air outside was welcoming.

The door closed behind you, muffling the music coming from inside the house. There were a few people hanging out on the lawn, but not nearly as much.

Steve stumbled his way to the sidewalk, he took off his glasses and let them fall on the grass. "I'm guessing you already heard about it."

You'd never heard him sound so defeated. He had a hand over his eyes, breathing erratic. You wondered if this was his first heartbreak. "Yeah, I think everyone did."

When he didn't answer, you crouched down to pick up his sunglasses, putting them on top of your head as you walked beside him with a hand extended to him. "Give me your keys."

Steve wiped his eyes before looking at you with a frown. "What?"

And damn him and those big, sad, and gentle eyes of his. "We're getting out of here, come on." You wiggled your fingers, not giving him much room for argument.

Part of you knew it was a dangerous game to play. Caring about him could end badly for your side, and it's not like you were eager to get hurt. But you knew Steve enough to know that he had no one; absent parents, no more asshole friends, and now, no Nancy. It hit you like a ton of bricks that maybe, you were the only person he had left.

You figured that as long as you keep any rogue feelings in control, you'd be fine.

Famous last words.

Despite better judgment, you got into his car with him on the passenger's seat and drove to a place you liked to call peaceful — not before stopping at a convenience store and picking up a cheap bottle of wine.

The playground was deserted at this time of night; thanks to a clear sky, the moon provided some light, along with the street lamps. The place stood on a patch of grass, surrounded by a few trees, and given that it was a little way up, it gave you a good view of a part of Hawkins.

You sat down on one of the swings and waited for Steve to join you. Wine bottle in one hand as the other held onto the rusty chain.

"A playground?" Steve asked, sitting down on the swing beside yours.

You pushed yourself back and forth with your feet, turning your head up to look at the blanket of stars above you. "Mhmm." You hummed. "It can be pretty peaceful without annoying kids running around."

Steve chuckled, and you took it as a win already. He copied your movements, swinging himself lazily. His mind was cluttered, but if it wasn't, he'd know you were right.

Crickets were singing tonight, along with the creaking of the moving swings and the wind rustling leaves from time to time. In front of you, Hawkins was nothing but patches of light in the distance.

Popping open the bottle, you took a sip before passing it to Steve, alcohol burning on your tongue.

He drank it eagerly, taking about three big gulps of the wine.

"Easy there, dude," you giggled, snatching the bottle from him and setting it beside you.

"You come here often?" Steve asked quietly, eyes fixed ahead of him.

"That sounds like a horrible pick-up line." You teased, leaning your head towards him.

Steve felt his cheeks burning, he was glad for the lack of lighting. "I wasn't-"

"I know what you meant," you smiled, averting your gaze from him, "don't worry."

Gripping tighter onto the chain that held up his swing, Steve mumbled; "right."

"I usually come here to relax, or when I have too much on my mind," you glanced down, the tip of your sneakers brushing over the grass, "like I said, it… feels peaceful sometimes."

Steve nodded, pursing his lips. For a long moment he was quiet, and then;

"I think she doesn't love me anymore."

You turned to him slowly. The pain was evident in his voice, eyes downcast and you saw the outline of his lower lip trembling. You wanted to reach out, but didn't.

"I'm starting to think that… maybe she never did love me." He shrugged, trying to play off his pain.

"Don't say that." You uttered.

There was a lump on his throat that Steve gulped down, his knuckles going white around the chains. His words turned to a whisper because if he spoke louder, he'd break. "I think she was mad about what happened to Barbara but…" He sighed, rubbing his eyes with one hand, "whatever, I'll just- just try to make things right I guess."

You frowned at that, it's not like you could do much with the crumbs of information he gave you, but it didn't feel like he should be the one saying sorry. Not the only one at least.

Turns out Steve was more observant than you thought. "You don't think I should do it." He noted, after his gaze landed on you.

You squirmed in your seat, moving your hands up on the chain and giving your body a swing. "I- I think that sometimes… love is not worth the risk." You chanced a look at him, "but that's just me, okay?" You were quick to add. "I think you should do what your heart tells you. What feels right, you know?"

Picking up the bottle of wine, you took a bigger sip this time. Letting the burn of the alcohol wash away the bitter taste of your words.

You passed it to Steve, and when his fingers closed around the bottle, they grazed yours. "Thank you, for being here and all."

Bumping his shoes with yours, you said; "anytime." And you surprised yourself by meaning it.

______

It was odd enough to see Steve walking through the hospital doors with a bloody face once, and you weren't expecting it to happen a second time. But it did.

You were about to go home for the night when you saw his red BMW being parked in the hospital's parking lot. The glass doors shut behind you with a click and you took a couple of steps forward with a frown on your face. Dark clouds, bringing rain most likely, loomed above you in the night sky.

It was dark out, only a few lamps from the parking lot providing light, but you saw Steve stepping out of his car with a bit of difficulty and heaviness to his movements.

He smiled when he saw you standing in front of those doors, the bright interior of the hospital's reception outlining your silhouette, making his sore feet work and carry him to you. If he was being completely honest with himself, it wasn't his plan to come to the hospital, not after the exhausting night he just had. But his hands on the wheel subconsciously turned the street to where he knew you would be.

Steve stopped in front of you, cheeks scraped and beaten, blood smudged under his nose, and bruises already forming under the floral bandaid he had on his forehead. You raised your arms halfway with an incredulous look on your face, "what the hell Harrington? You're even worse than last time."

It wasn't fair for you to be attractive while scolding him. He chuckled, the motion making his probably fractured nose sting. "You can thank Hargrove for that."

The fatigue from the last days was finally catching up with Steve, he closed his eyes with a shaky sigh, feeling as if he was about to pass out; and he must have looked the part too, because the next thing he felt was your hands holding him up and guiding him inside the hospital.

You didn't bother with stopping in the reception to grab him a record, you could worry about that later. Now, you guided him to the closest room available, worry bubbling in your stomach.

"I knew that guy was trouble from the moment he showed up," you grumbled, helping Steve to sit up on the hospital bed, "but why did he… do this to you?" One of your hands remained on his elbow, the other hovering over his bruised cheek as you stood in front of him.

Steve shook his head dismissively, "it's a long story." He couldn't pull his gaze away from you, he wanted to smooth the crease of your eyebrows with his thumb.

You didn't press him into telling you, your fingers brushed over his arm and down to his hand. When your skin touched his, you pulled away. "I'll call a doctor for you." You told him quietly.

Goosebumps erupted on Steve's body, and the thought of you leaving was suddenly unbearable. "You could do it too though, right?"

You turned back to him with a raised eyebrow.

"I mean, it's simple enough?" His hands gripped the edge of the bed as he spoke.

The hospital room was quiet, you could hear the first droplets of rain hitting the roof and then the window behind Steve.

It's just your job, right? It doesn't have to mean anything.

"Sure, I can tidy you up." You walked back to him with a small smile on your lips, opening up the cabinet beside his bed to pick up gauze and antiseptics. "but then I'm calling a doctor to check up on you," when Steve opened his mouth to complain, you added; "no buts."

Raising your hands to the bandaid on his forehead, you asked; "may I?"

Steve could only nod. This is the closest he's ever been to you, and he never noticed how you had tiny freckles over your nose, or how pretty were the bright specks of color on your eyes. He held onto his breath until you removed the bandaid and pulled away from him.

Soaking a gauze with antiseptic, you raised a hand to Steve's hair and held it away from the bruise on his forehead while you cleaned it. The brown strands were soft under your touch, you wanted to run your fingers through them.

"Have you worked things out with Nancy?" You asked out of curiosity, mostly.

Steve averted his gaze from you, squirming on his seat until you mumbled a "stay still" for him. "Sort of, yeah." He sighed. "We uh- we're not together anymore."

You stopped your work to look at him properly.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I didn't mean-"

"It's okay," he was quick to ease your worries, his eyes glistening under the artificial lights, "really, it's… it's better this way."

The once white gauze on your hand had now a pink color to it, you threw it aside and picked a new one. Busying yourself longer than necessary with the bottle of antiseptic, you said; "you deserve someone who loves and cares about you the same way you do for them, Steve."

You chanced a quick glance at his eyes, biting the inside of your cheek when you found him looking back at you. Clearing your throat, you took hold of his jaw and cleaned the blood under his nose.

You felt the way his cheeks moved under your touch when he smiled, felt the way he played and tugged at the ends of your jacket, keeping you there with him.

And you could worry about the butterflies in your stomach later. For now, all you cared about was patching him up and making sure to ease his pain, if not emotional, at least physical.

______

In the months that followed, you and Steve grew even closer, being each other's only constant in life. You two were attached to the hip to the point where in the last weeks of school, your friends had to get used to the fact that, wherever one went, the other followed.

But things shifted once you graduated and the safety blanket of going to school — of having that excuse to always be with him — was taken away.

And it's not like you were avoiding Steve, not at all. It was only natural that, after you both graduated, you'd see each other a little less.

He found a job at the new mall, and you were taking a few extra shifts helping out at the hospital. And that was all there was to it.

Sometimes, Steve called you and asked if you wanted to spend some time by the playground after the sun was down.

Every few days, you stopped by at Starcourt to see him.

You saw each other less — going from being together practically every day, to now only two or three times a week — certainly not for lack of trying on Steve's part. But the routine was safe.

Last night, he bought a bottle of wine for you to share at the playground. He made you laugh as he pushed you on the swing and you made him sing loudly with you over the radio on the way back to your home. And before you could exit his car, he took your hand;

The skin of his hand against yours was softer than you thought it'd be, a bit calloused, but still soft. You were closing your fingers around his before you could think it through.

"I was thinking, maybe you could stop by the mall tomorrow?" Steve asked, his voice shy in a way that you hadn't heard yet. His eyes were focused on your hands over the center console.

He didn't leave much room for you to answer before continuing; "I'll be working but, we could grab some ice cream on my break. You know, hang out, or whatever." He shook his head as if it was no big deal. His bumping knee and white knuckles around the wheel told otherwise.

You didn't do dates, you didn't like the idea of letting people close enough to ask you on them. Steve should know that too, he's had his heart broken too.

But he never said it would be a date. "Ice cream does sound tempting," you mused with a smile.

"It's the best in town." Steve teased, looking up at you the same way he did when you first got into his car tonight. If you didn't know better, you'd call it love.

You chuckled, incapable of saying no even if you wanted to. "Yeah, okay."

"Really?" His eyebrows shot up, the grip he had on your hand squeezing lightly.

"Cross my heart for you, pretty boy."

In some sense, Starcourt felt like its own little world. The atmosphere changed once you walked through those doors. Bright colors and even brighter neon signs for a multitude of stores, plus the overwhelming crowd were quite the contrast with the rest of Hawkins.

Scoops Ahoy was easier on the eyes, particularly because of the boy with the dorky sailor outfit behind the counter.

Early weekdays were slow, Steve was leaning over the counter, mindlessly flipping through a magazine while twirling his hat with the other hand.

"Hey, sailor." You smirked.

He beamed when he saw you, throwing the magazine to the side promptly. "Hey, you came."

You frowned, faking offense and leaning both your hands on the counter. "Of course I did, I love ice cream."

"Ouch," Steve mumbled with the ghost of a smile. "I have my break in about ten minutes, if you wanna pick a table." His gaze moved around the parlor, with only you and him, and an elderly couple sharing a bowl of ice cream on one of the tables.

With a nod, your lips titled up in a smile that was reserved for him only, "surprise me." You glanced at the many ice cream flavors beside him and walked away to find a table.

"Is that the girl you've been talking my ear off about?"

Robin's sudden voice just about made Steve jump out of his skin. He put a hand over his racing heart whilst the other clutched his sailor's hat, shooting a worried look in your direction to make sure you didn't hear it. "Jesus Buckley, keep it down will you?"

Raising her hands in mock surrender, Robin chuckled; "sorry loverboy, you were practically eating her with your eyes, so I assumed-"

"Was not," Steve grumbled.

"-that she was the 'beautiful girl who helps at the hospital and cared for me once and now I'm head over heels in love with her'." Robin finished with a smug grin, leaning back on the wall behind her.

If Steve's frown was anything to go by, he was not amused. "You done?" He had an evident blush on his cheeks as he avoided Robin's stare and tossed aside his hat, picking up two bowls for the ice cream.

Robin chuckled, "hey I didn't mean it as something bad, for what's worth, I think she might like you too."

Just the thought of it made Steve's heart do somersaults inside his chest. He pursed his lips, twirling his scoop on his hand.

"You should ask her out on a proper date," Robin suggested.

Steve shook his head, looking down at the ice cream flavors in front of him as if they'd have an answer for his feelings. "It's not that simple, she's… she's different. We're different. I don't wanna mess it up." He sighed, voice losing its volume as he spoke. Robin had never heard him sound so insecure.

Six minutes after you sat down at the table by the wall, an ice cream bowl was set in front of you, with your favorite flavor.

You looked up at Steve with a smile already on your lips.

He smirked back. Blue, white and red complimenting his features. Of course he could put on a sailor's uniform and look handsome in it. He sat down in front of you, with a bowl of ice cream of his own in his hands.

"You remembered," you said quietly, nose scrunching because of your smile. You picked up the spoon and took a bite of the cold dessert.

Steve pushed back his hair, a nervous habit of his that he was doing more and more whenever he was with you. "Of course I did."

Talking with Steve was easy; and there wasn't a day where he couldn't pull a smile out of you, as miserable as you might be, he made you happy. And every time, in the few minutes just before you walked out your door, knowing that he would be there, outside waiting for you, your stomach would flutter and your skin would feel hot, even more so after he touched you.

It should have been obvious, and maybe you already knew it deep down, only not wanting to admit it to yourself just yet; for fear, because you knew things would change once you did.

But now, as you talked about nothing and everything; as Steve's fingers intertwined with yours over the table, slightly sticky because of the ice cream; as he averted his eyes with the most adorable pink tint to his cheeks, and asked shyly if you'd, maybe, give him the chance to take you out on a proper date; now, it was as clear as day. You had fallen for him, completely and utterly. Willingly too, you knew it was. You knew it would happen, yet you stuck with him anyway.

It was selfish, and it was unfair. But Steve made you feel warm in a way you never had before, so you turned a blind eye to the inevitable outcome. Until now. Until the affection became real and tangible. Until he seemingly felt the same. For when something is real, it can hurt you.

You pulled your hand away from his with a gulp, shoulders growing tense as you curled in on yourself a little.

Steve's face fell immediately, eyebrows knitting together slightly as his eyes silently asked what he did wrong.

The look he gave you squeezed your heart painfully. You looked away. "I- I'm sorry, Steve. I- we can't."

"We can't… go on a date?" Steve chuckled nervously, pushing his now empty bowl of ice cream to the side. He slowly pulled the hand that had been holding yours back to himself, picking at his fingers. "I mean, it's- it's okay if you don't want to. I just thought that, I don't know, maybe we could give this a shot? Us, I mean. I just- you make me feel-" he was rambling, panic making the words roll off his tongue.

"Steve, stop." You snapped, harsher than you wanted to. Your palms were flush against the table as so to ground yourself, and the outline of Steve's lips started to get blurry in your vision. You bit back the tears.

He could only look at you, those gentle eyes of his so confused, tilting his head to the side as a puppy would.

"I'm sorry, but we can't do this." You forced the words out as steady as you could, which, wasn't much. It's crazy how sudden bursts of emotion can numb your senses, if you'd been thinking straight, you would have seen how his eyes held nothing but sincerity, nothing but affection and happiness to be there with you.

But at that moment, it felt safer to push him away, so that's what you did. With a last mumbled "sorry", you got up from the table and walked away from Scoops Ahoy. Away from Steve.

And he watched you leave, with a piece of his heart in your hands. He was silent as he picked up both empty bowls, mumbling curses under his breath as one of the spoons fell and soiled the table.

"How'd it go?" Robin asked him as he walked into the back room, going straight to the sink to wash the dishes.

Steve scoffed, angrily scrubbing the cutlery. "I did what I do best, Robin," foam covered his hands, he had to turn his head to wipe his damp cheek on his shoulder, "mess things up."

______

You didn't see Steve for two weeks after your not-date at the mall.

You didn't have the balls to call him, much less go see him. You didn't think he'd want to see you. You regretted the way you handled your feelings as soon as you got home that day.

The idea of someone having enough power over you to make the mess that a bullet to the heart would, without ever lifting a finger, was scary. You felt that pain once and you swore you'd never let it happen again. A risk that felt too great.

But the idea of losing Steve, the sweet boy that found his way into your heart with dumb jokes and a dorky attitude, was all the more terrifying.

Steve made you want to take the leap of faith that was loving someone.

But you never got to do it. Fate had a knack for messing up your plans. Because on that same night, your mother called you, saying that she would be pulling an all-nighter at the hospital because the new town mall had just burned to the ground. And there were many injured people. And there were casualties.

You had never snatched your car keys and sped off your driveway so fast, almost knocking down your mailbox. Reckless driving was an understatement to describe the way you reached Starcourt in half the time it usually took for you to get there.

Tires screeched against asphalt as you stopped at the Mall's parking lot. Ambulances, police, and even the military littered the place. Blue and red lights were blinking bright under the falling rain, reflecting against the wet ground and the metal of the vehicles.

It was quite a sight to see you running towards the commotion at full speed in your pajamas and a pair of poorly tied sneakers over mismatched socks. You were stomping over puddles and not caring if it got your feet wet, you just needed to find him.

Two strong hands suddenly stopped you in your tracks. You grunted, glaring daggers at the man who blocked your path. So what if he had a massive shotgun on his shoulder, an anxious, worried, and sleep-deprived girl could be just as menacing.

"This is a restricted area, lady, please turn around." His gruff voice commanded.

"I work with them, dude. Let me through." You pointed a trembling finger in the general direction of one of the ambulances, your chest going up and down erratically.

The man that held onto your arms sighed, "I won't tell you again, turn around and leave the area."

"Oh, you won't have to tell me again because I'll-"

Before you could get yourself arrested, a familiar voice interrupted you.

"That's alright, officer," Charles, a young doctor and one of your besties from the hospital walked up to you, "she's with me. Even if a little… underdressed for the job, I need her with me." He looked you up and down with a raised eyebrow, holding in a giggle.

You glared at the soldier as you walked past him, and when he was out of earshot, you thanked Charles; "I owe you one."

"Sure, but what are you even doing here?" The young man frowned, "if they're calling all hands on deck for this, you should be back at the hospital, no?"

You ran a hand through your hair, not being able to stay still as you looked around; there were so many people here, some of them you even knew from school, the rain was getting stronger and dampening your hair and those damn blinking lights of the ambulances were making it hard to focus. "No, no I'm- I'm not here to work, I'm trying to find someone."

"Do you need help? There's… there's been a few casualties, if you need me to-"

"No." You interrupted him quickly, you couldn't stomach to even think about the possibility. "It's okay, Charles," with a gentler voice, you laid a hand on his shoulder, "you go do your job and help the others, I'll be alright on my own."

Your friend gave you a sympathetic smile, "okay, just try to be quick, I can't keep them off your back for too long."

With a quick hug of gratitude to Charles, you started roaming around Starcourt's parking lot. The heavy thudding of your heart against your ribcage was starting to hurt, making it hard to breathe. You had to brush the sleeve of your pajama shirt over your eyes a few times, raindrops — or tears, you didn't care to know — were clinging to your eyelashes.

Only after two minutes that felt endless, you finally found him. There, sitting on the back of an ambulance, holding a bag of ice over one of his eyes, was your Steve.

"Steve," you breathed out with a relieved smile. You started running to him before you knew it, water splashing around your sneakers, calling louder; "Steve!"

His head snapped to your direction, his eyebrows scrunched up together when he saw you running to him. "What…" He mumbled, dropping the ice bag and raising to his feet. The movement hurt his sore muscles, and he didn't have time to prepare himself to have you throwing yourself at him.

The hug was as desperate as you felt since your mother called you earlier, you clutched at Steve's shoulders and buried your head on his neck; feeling the warmth of his body against yours, because he was alive, and he was okay, and he was here.

You didn't hear Steve's pained grunt when you collided with him, but soon your ears caught up with his little hisses of pain.

You pulled back immediately, worried eyes skimming over his body, "oh god I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Steve, I didn't mean to-" the words got stuck in your throat for a moment. Steve was looking down at you, smiling, because of course he was, but you could only see the cute crinkle of the smile on one of his eyes, because the other was swollen shut; it was a mix of deep red and purple that turned your stomach upside down. His lip had a massive cut to it that may or may not need stitches, his sailor's uniform was stained with blood and you were scared to find out what other injuries it was covering.

"-hurt you." You finished in a whisper, your hands hovering over his arms for fear of harming him more, and now you were sure that what was falling down your cheeks were tears.

"No, it's okay. It's okay," tears of his own pooled in Steve's already red-rimmed eyes, his words broke in the middle; "you could never." With a soft grip on your waist, he pulled you into a gentler hug, winding his arms around you and dropping his head to your shoulder. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, one that he'd been holding probably ever since that damned elevator dropped below the ground.

You nuzzled his shoulder as you held onto him with a tender grip, one hand going up to thread through his hair. "I was so worried, you have no idea."

Steve squeezed you tighter, he needed the comfort just as much as you, "'m sorry," he spoke against you.

If it was up to you, you'd stay in his embrace forever, but Steve was hurt and the rain was starting to seep through your clothes. You pulled back to look at him; "has anyone checked on you yet? Let me take you to the hospital."

Steve shook his head. He slid his hands down your arms and hooked his fingers with yours, blaming the emotional baggage of today for it. "No hospitals, please. Some paramedics already cleaned the injuries and shit… I just wanna go home." He pleaded, exhausted.

You squeezed his hands. "Yeah, okay. I'll take you, come on."

The drive to Steve's place was silent, mostly. As soon as Starcourt was out of sight, Steve sighed loudly and leaned back against the seat, and he hadn't moved since; you kept a close eye on him, on the steady up and down of his chest. Your knuckles were white holding the steering wheel. More and more, the reason for why you left him when you last saw each other felt incredibly insignificant beside the affection you held for him.

As you parked on Steve's driveway, you noticed that the whole house was dark, there were no other cars in sight either. "Where are your parents?"

Steve groaned, pushing himself up to sit straighter and feeling his bruised muscles complain about it. "Out, on a business trip or vacation, I don't fucking know."

"Steve, you- you can't be alone like this." You turned off your car and turned to him. "You have somewhere else you want me to take you?"

"No, here is fine. I've been alone plenty of times, it's no biggie." He reached for the door handle but hesitated. He gulped before chancing a glance your way. "You could stay though, if you wanted to."

Something in you broke with the way he said it, like he'd been dreading the thought of walking into his own house, — big, and dark, and cold and so empty — like he'd done it too many times before and wanted something to remind himself he wasn't on his own anymore.

You were going to stay even if he hadn't said it. To be honest, you doubted you'd ever willingly leave his side again.

Steve's house was huge and pretty, but in many ways, it seemed stuck in time. Only the same rooms had signs of life in it. An empty bowl of cereal in the sink, a cushion fallen to the floor in the living room, a few shoes discarded near the door; only the necessities. Not a home, just a house with people making use of it.

You walked with Steve up the stairs and to his bedroom, one of your hands always lingering by him. There were many unsaid words and unasked questions hanging thick in the air between you, and even if Steve was tired, before anything else, you insisted he took a shower. You knew he'd feel better after washing off the blood and sweat.

When you heard the stream of water hit the tiles in the bathroom, you walked back to his room and sat on his bed — it was big and so damn comfortable — with your head in your hands. Just about an hour ago, you had no idea you'd be spending the night at Steve's house. Even if you did catch yourself sometimes wondering what your first night together would be like, you'd never guessed it'd be like this.

As bland as the rest of the house may be, Steve's room had a few traces of his personality in it. A few tapes and a cassette player, an old basketball beside his wardrobe, a dusty acoustic guitar resting against the wall; all making it easy to guess that this was the place he spent most of his time in when at home.

It took maybe ten minutes for you to hear Steve turning off the shower, and then he slowly made his way back to his room.

The door was pushed open to reveal Steve in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, though he was still holding his towel in front of most of his chest and abdomen. His hair was damp — much longer than when you first became friends, you realized — a few droplets of water dripping down the strands and to his bare shoulders. He was walking with stiffness to his movements, grimacing every few steps.

"How are you feeling?" You asked in lieu of saying let me see you. But he understood.

"I think I've beat my record." He said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes, towel still clutched tightly between his hands.

"Steve," you said quietly, carefully, and if the house wasn't so eerily silent, he wouldn't have heard.

But he did, and that was enough. Steve clenched his jaw before reluctantly throwing the towel over the chair in front of his desk. And the sight clenched your heart painfully. His torso was an array of colors, blacks and blues staining his pale skin, highlighted because of the hot water from the shower; a few wounds so harsh that it was visible they'd drawn blood when done.

Steve squirmed under your gaze. You wondered if he was expecting some kind of scolding, it pained you to think about it.

"My god, Steve," was all you could say over the lump in your throat. You extended a hand for him, silently asking him to come closer.

He took it, sitting down beside you with that familiar hunch to his shoulders. His hand was warm against yours, holding on tightly.

You shuffled closer to him, raising one hand to brush away the strands of hair covering his eyes. Tenderly, because he deserved nothing less. "What happened to you?" You kept your voice quiet, the only lighting into his room came from a lamp on his desk, and from the pool outside, you didn't feel like breaking the peaceful bubble.

Steve pursed his lips, his eyes taking on a brighter shine as water collected on the bottom lid. He didn't look up, solemnly focused on how his fingers played with yours. "The mall burned down."

You sighed, tilting your head to try and catch his gaze. "Did the mall also beat you up while it was burning down?"

A teary chuckle escaped Steve, but a frown soon took its place. He shook his head; "it's complicated."

You squeezed his hand. "You can talk to me."

"I can't," he choked on his words, "I'm sorry, I can't. I wanted to, but it's too dangerous, I can't-"

"It's alright," you shushed when sobs started to cut through Steve's words. You brought both hands up to cup his cheeks, brushing away the falling tears with your thumbs. "You don't have to tell me now. It's okay."

Steve nodded, his hands coming up to grasp at your wrists while he leaned into your hold. His heart was loud against his ears, his lower lip trembling with each ragged breath he took. One never realizes how much he's missing something until he gets it. Steve would happily drown in your comfort.

Eventually, he calmed down enough to ask the one thing he needed to know the most; "how- why were you there tonight?"

With a last brush of your thumb over the damp skin of his cheeks, you lowered your hands, biting onto your lip. "My mother called, saying how she'd be staying at the hospital tonight because Starcourt had burned down, and…" you looked up at Steve, heart on your hands and parted lips as the words laid on the tip of your tongue, "I was so scared, Steve. When she told me, my- my first thought was you. If you were okay or, if you got hurt."

You sighed, looking up at the ceiling to chase away tears of your own and then back at him; "I just needed to find you. And I'm sorry for the way I left things when we last spoke, I should have handled it differently, you- you deserved better." You chuckled humorlessly, "I said so myself, didn't I?"

That made Steve smile. He was all cuts and bruises, eye swollen and lip split; and you loved him so much it hurt. He chanced a hand up to your jaw, holding you carefully. "No one's better for me than you. No one cares for me as you do." His gaze moved to your lips, only a fraction of a second. "Why'd you do it?" He asked.

Steve's eyes held nothing but affection. You felt safe with him, safer than you ever did before. "A while ago, before we met, I trusted someone," you glanced out his window as you recalled it, "and they broke that trust, they- they used me. Got what they wanted and then just… vanished. It made me feel like a trophy, for a game, the ones that get discarded right after it ends."

You found Steve's gaze again, he was listening intently. There was a hint of anger on his features, but you realized it wasn't for you, it was for whoever hurt you. You took a deep breath, and continued; "I got over it, sorta. I promised myself I wouldn't give anyone else that sort of power, you know?"

Steve nodded, his hand on your cheek was mindlessly playing with the hair behind your ear. "I understand."

"It was safer that way. Lonelier too." You explained. "But then you came along and… all my rules just went straight out the window." You smiled, ducking your head onto his hand when you felt warmth coming to your cheeks.

"Maybe I could be the lucky exception to those rules then?" Steve chuckled, this time it was his eyes searching yours.

"I think you've been the exception since the first time I saw you covered in blood." You bit your cheek to contain your smile, gravitating closer to Steve as your hand ghosted over his waist.

Before you could close the gap between you, Steve looked you in the eyes, sincerity overflowing his blown pupils; "I hope you know, I'd never hurt you, ever."

You nodded, resting your forehead against his, your noses bumping together. "Promise?" You breathed out, your lips grazing his as you spoke.

You felt the shape of his smile, "cross my heart."

With a hand behind your head, Steve pulled you into a kiss, one that you both melted into, clinging to each other as if this was your last day on earth together.

Your hands made a mess of his hair and his arms closed around your waist as he pulled you impossibly closer.

Maybe you did keep your promise to him, maybe his happy ending was always meant to be intertwined with yours.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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