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summary: you accidentally overhear steve calling you “clingy” to robin. instead of confronting him, you retreat into silence, letting your hurt fester. steve notices and becomes desperate to understand, but the more he reaches out, the wider the distance grows.
word count: 6.1k
a/n: after writing way too much steve fluff, it’s time for some angst with my fav trope: fmc overhears her spouse call her clingy… eventual happy ending <3
tags: takes place after s4 timeskip, so much angst, emotional hurt, crying, reader has scars from a demo attack, nancy and robin are so sweet here, distancing, reader has ptsd, emotional vulnerability, reader was eddie's bsf, mentions of violence, trauma, typical upside down gore, lack of communication, so much fluff at the end, happy ending.
You truly didn’t mean to eavesdrop.
If anything, it was an accident, a cruel, stupid accident orchestrated by the universe itself and whatever higher power up there that wanted to see you suffering.
You’d been at the Squawk with Steve and Robin, the three of you crammed into the booth like always. Robin, as usual, was rambling about something while Steve laughed and bumped his knee into yours under the table, grounding you without even trying.
By the time the clock crept past 8:30, the air outside was already dark and heavy, that familiar tightness had started curling in your chest; one that always showed up when it got late.
You’d told yourself you could handle it, that you were fine and you weren’t helpless, but you still asked Steve to accompany you home anyway, too afraid to go on your own.
“Can you come with me?” you’d asked casually, “or at least drive me home?”
Steve frowned, glancing at Robin. “Baby, you’ll be fine. You can go on your own. I’ll be back in like an hour, okay? ”
You nodded and kissed him goodbye, then you walked out to your car telling yourself you weren’t a scared little kid, and that nothing can harm you anymore.
Only to realize halfway down the lot that your coat was still inside.
So you turned around.
That was all; a forgotten coat, a stupid, normal thing, and you would have been in and out in seconds if not for your name cutting through the noise in the squawk as you heard Steve mention you to Robin.
You shouldn’t have listened, you knew that. You were raised better than to hover at doors and steal pieces of conversations that weren’t yours to hear, but your body didn’t listen to reason anymore.
Your feet stayed planted, your lungs forgot how to work as panic washed over you so fast and so violently that for a second you weren’t in Hawkins at all.
You were back in the Upside Down.
Back in that choking red sky, where the air is thick and cold. You could feel all over again the vines slick and alive under your hands as you ran, heart tearing itself apart inside your chest.
You could still feel the demobats, the weight of them, the wet snap of their wings, the sound of flesh ripping, the blood, so much blood, everywhere you looked there was bloodbloodbloodbloodblood—
—the combined screams of yours and Eddie’s. You remembered the way his body had gone still, the way Steve had dragged your bloodied body away as your entire abdomen was ripped apart, shaking so badly you couldn’t even scream.
You remember the way you’d thought you were going to die there with your throat ripped open and your bones scattered across that fucked-up place.
You hadn’t felt safe since.
Four months, five months? however long it had been, it didn’t matter. Fear had latched onto you like a parasite and refused to let go.
Everything startled you now, doors, clocks, cold air on your neck, cars backfiring, footsteps too close behind you. The world felt like a nightmare, and the night was only much worse.
Steve was the only place that didn’t feel like that.
Steve made it quiet. Steve made it stop.
You hadn’t even realized you’d started clinging until it was already done, until your body had decided he was shelter, that he was protection, that if he was near then nothing could touch you.
And now you were standing outside a door, listening to him talk about you.
“I don’t know, Robin,” he says again, voice rough and worn down, like he’s been chewing on the same thought for weeks and it’s finally gone bloody. “She’s just… different. Ever since.”
Robin leans back against the counter, arms crossed, watching him carefully. “Yeah,” she says, slow and measured. “No shit. She went to literal hell, Steve.”
“I know that,” he snaps too fast, immediately regretting the edge in his voice. He exhales, drags a hand down his face. “I know. I do. That’s the problem. I know, and I still feel like shit about how I feel.”
She waits. Robin’s good at that. At letting him talk himself into the truth.
“It’s like,” he starts again, quieter but faster, words tumbling over each other now, “she’s everywhere. All the time. Wherever I go, she’s already there or tryin’ to be. If I grab my keys, suddenly she needs to leave too. If I’m sittin’ down, she’s sittin’ down. If I say I’m tired, she’s tired. It’s like she can’t exist unless I’m right next to her.”
Your stomach drops where you stand, frozen just outside the door, fingers clenched tight around the strap of your bag.
“I’m serious,” Steve keeps going, oblivious, frustration bleeding through every word. “If I’m goin’ to see Dustin, she’s got a reason to come. If I’m headin’ to the Squawk, somehow we’re paired up for drills again. She doesn’t do anything alone, Robin. Never. She’s just… latched onto me.”
He laughs humorless. “And I sound like a dick sayin’ it, I know I do, but it’s fuckin’ suffocating.”
Suffocating. Like he’s drowning because of you.
Robin doesn’t answer right away. When she finally speaks, her voice is softer, more careful. “Steve. That’s not weird, matter of fact it's a normal response given what she's been through. That’s her brain trying to keep her alive.”
“I know,” he says, rubbing at his neck like it physically hurts to admit it. “I know she’s not doing it on purpose.”
“She nearly died,” Robin presses. “She watched Eddie die right in front of her. She got dragged into the Upside Down and came back with scars all over her body. She wakes up screaming, Steve. You’re the only thing that makes her feel safe.”
“I didn’t say she was the bad guy,” he snaps, voice cracking despite himself. “I’m just sayin’ I’m overwhelmed. She’s so clingy, Robin. You saw her tonight. She didn’t wanna leave without me. I had to practically beg her to go first.”
Your vision blurs. You press a hand to your mouth, swallowing hard.
“It’s like I gotta make up excuses just to be alone,” he admits, quieter now, stripped bare. “I need space. I need to breathe. And I can’t say that without soundin’ like a heartless asshole because yeah, she’s traumatized, and then suddenly I’m the villain for wantin’ five goddamn minutes to myself.”
Robin scoffs, pushing off the counter. “Steve, you idiot. You said it yourself. Your girlfriend is traumatized.”
“Yeah,” he shoots back, voice rising, “but how the hell do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off without destroyin’ her. How do I say ‘hey, I love you, but you’re smotherin’ me,’ and not absolutely fuck her up more than she already is.”
“You don’t call her clingy,” Robin says immediately. “For starters. That word is banned and most girls, including Vickie, hate it.”
Steve lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Well, she is.”
Robin gasps dramatically, clutching her chest. “Oh nooo,” she mocks, voice high and obnoxious. “I’m Steve Harrington and my girlfriend loves me so much. Oh noooo, she feels safe with me. My life is helllll.”
“Shut up,” Steve mutters, shoving her shoulder.
“Oww, you asshole!” Robin shoots back, swatting him in return, then sobers as she gets all serious again. “You’re not wrong for being tired. You are wrong for talking about her like she’s a burden.”
Steve goes still. “I don’t think she’s a burden,” he says quietly, and this time it sounds like the truth. “I just… I don’t wanna be the only thing keepin’ her together. What happens if I fuck up? What happens if I leave?”
Robin sighs. “Then you talk to her. You communicate, dingus.”
You step back before they can see you, heart pounding, every word replaying in your head on a brutal loop. Suffocating. Clingy. Everywhere.
You don’t grab your coat when you leave.
You don’t even realize you’re driving until you’re already halfway home, knuckles white on the steering wheel as every memory crashes into you at once. Begging him to stay while you showered because you were convinced something would crawl out of the drain. Nights you woke up screaming, clinging to his shirt like it was the only safe place left in the world. Training days for the crawl where you stuck close, too afraid to be alone, grateful when you were paired with him again.
You could see it all, every single little thing you had leaned on him for, flashing through your mind like some god-awful horror slideshow.
Steve’s words had been like a bucket of ice water dumped on you, shocking you into clarity whether you wanted it or not.
Maybe you had been too sensitive. Maybe you had been unbearable. Maybe you had been so clingy that it wasn’t fair for him, and maybe you needed to let go, at least a little.
It wasn’t as if you had been the only one stuck in the Upside Down. Will had survived a week in that hell, seen things that should have ripped him apart, and yet he had come back and carried himself with a strength you couldn’t even muster.
Dustin had lost Eddie too, but he hadn’t latched onto anyone, hadn’t made himself a burden. Eleven had been tortured, exploited, experimented on, broken in ways that should have left her crushed, and yet she still managed to find herself amidst everything, to stand and breathe and continue on.
And here you were, the only one who seemed incapable of moving past it, of finding even a fragment of independence, still tethered to Steve as if without him you would fall apart.
Somehow, without realizing it, you had arrived at your shared home with Steve, parked your car in the driveway, and walked inside on autopilot, your body carrying you through familiar motions while your mind carried the full weight of guilt, shame, and heartbreak.
You stripped off your clothes in the bathroom, letting the water hit your skin in a rhythm you used to find comfort in, and prepared some dinner. You heated up leftovers, the smell of food filling the kitchen like it always had, but this time there was no laughter, no shared commentary on who had eaten what, no teasing Steve about his obsession with ketchup.
By the time Steve arrived, the house was quiet. You were already in bed, tucked under the covers, something you hadn’t done alone in months because for months you hadn’t slept unless his arms were wrapped around you.
But tonight, the house felt empty, and he found himself standing in the kitchen, fork in hand, staring at the warm meal you had prepared for him, and realizing that for the first time in an eternity, you weren’t waiting for him.
The next morning only deepened the silence. Steve woke to an empty bed, the sunlight spilling across rumpled sheets that smelled faintly of your perfume, and felt a prickling, cold panic he couldn’t name at first.
You were already dressed, shoes on, ready to leave.
“Where are you heading?” he asked, voice rough.
“Going to get some stuff from the store,” you replied dryly.
“Want me to come with you, sweetheart?” His words carried that familiar gentleness, but you couldn’t look past it without feeling like a burden.
“No,” you said simply.
It was such a small, simple word. It shouldn’t feel like this. Except it made Steve sit in bed alone, blood running cold, realizing far too late that you were beginning to avoid him.
You leave early and don’t come back until the sky is already dimming, the house dark except for the kitchen light that Steve has turned on and off three times now like it might summon you home faster.
By the time you unlock the front door, he has been pacing a groove into the living room carpet, heart in his throat, mind running through every worst case scenario he promised himself he wouldn’t think about anymore. The second the lock clicks and the door opens, he’s there, crowding your space before you can even hang up your coat.
“Where the hell were you?!” he blurts, voice tight and frantic, eyes scanning you like he’s checking for blood. “You’ve been outta the house for nearly six hours. Six. I was losin’ my goddamn mind. I thought somethin’ happened to you.”
You sigh, slow and tired, and for a split second when you really look at him, at the pure unfiltered worry etched into his face, you almost break.
Almost step into his arms, almost let yourself melt into him and admit how badly you missed him, how those six hours felt like six days without his voice or his hands or the steady reassurance of his presence.
If six hours did this to him, then the space you were forcing had been tearing you apart twice as badly.
But then your brain betrays you, replays his words in his voice, clingy, suffocating, always there, and you harden.
“I was out, Steve,” you say quietly.
“Yeah, no shit,” he fires back, following you as you walk toward the kitchen. “Out where?”
You open the fridge, more for something to do than because you’re hungry, and shrug. “With Nancy. We hung out and I accidentally lost track of time.”
The tension drains out of him immediately, shoulders sagging in relief. “Jesus,” he breathes. “Why didn’t you tell me, huh? I was freakin’ out. Is everything okay? Did somethin’ happen?”
You shake your head. “No, nothing happened, don’t worry.”
He nods quickly, like he’s trying not to push. “Okay. Okay. I won’t pry.” He hesitates, then softens. “Hey, I was thinkin’ dinner. You want lasagna or pizza?”
“I’m not hungry,” you say, already turning away. “I’m gonna go sleep, okay.”
He frowns. “But I thought we could just hang out a little, I mean we barely saw each other toda—”
“Maybe another time, alright? Goodnight, Steve.”
He exhales, defeated. “Goodnight,” he says softly. “I love you.”
You pause just long enough to whisper it back before disappearing down the hall. “I love you too,”
The days after are worse.
Steve wakes up and barely gets a word in before you’re already pulling on shoes, mumbling something about a jog. If he waits, you need a shower. If he waits longer, you’re late to see your nana.
If he suggests the Squawk, you’re already going with Nancy. It’s like every time he reaches out, you slip through his fingers a little more, like trying to grasp smoke.
Not long ago, you haunted him with your presence. You were everywhere, constant, inescapable, but now you ghost him with your absence. He doesn’t know where you go or what you do, only that the house feels emptier even when you’re technically still there.
That’s how he ends up sitting on the edge of the bed tonight, waiting for the bathroom door to open, heart pounding like he’s bracing for bad news. When you finally step out, hair damp, towel slung over your shoulder, he looks up like he’s been holding his breath.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he says gently, like he’s testing the word to see if it still belongs to him.
You glance at him in the mirror and give him a small, careful smile. “Hi, Steve.”
He lingers there for a second, then steps closer, hands hovering before he settles them lightly at your waist, afraid you might flinch. He leans down and presses a kiss to your collarbone.
“I missed you,” he murmurs. “You’ve been out all day. Didn’t even see you at the Squawk.”
Your body betrays you before your mouth does, a shiver running through you at the sound of his voice, the warmth of him behind you. For a heartbeat you let yourself feel it, the pull, the ache. Then you pull away, just enough to break the contact, reaching for your hairbrush like it’s a shield.
“Yeah,” you say lightly. “Nancy asked me to go shopping with her again.”
“Oh.” He straightens, nodding, trying to keep his tone easy. “Was it fun? I figured you’d come back with, like, ten bags or somethin’.”
You shrug, brushing through damp hair. “Didn’t need anything.”
He watches you in the mirror, the way you won’t quite look at him, the way your answers land flat and stop short. He clears his throat as heshifts his weight.
He hesitates, then clears his throat, trying again, voice low and careful. “Uh. We trained today. Me, Hopper, and El. She shaved her time down again.”
You pause only briefly, tugging at your hair with the brush.
“Thirty-three seconds,” he continues, a little brighter despite himself. “Last week it was thirty-six. She’s pissed about it too, which I guess is good. Means she knows she can do better.”
“That’s good,” you say quietly.
He nods, even though you’re not looking at him. “Yeah. She’s gettin’ scary strong again. In a good way.”
“Mhm.”
Steve frowns. He leans back on his hands, searching your face even though you’re facing away now. “We could all hang out this weekend. Just us, or maybe the kids too. Whatever you want. Thought it might be nice.”
“I’m actually quite tired,” you say quietly.
“Okay,” he says quickly. “Yeah. That’s fine. We don’t have to do anything big.” He pauses, then softly asks. “Hey. Are you okay? Like, really okay?”
You swallow. “I’m fine, Steve.”
There’s a beat of silence where he clearly wants to say more as his mouth opens and closes like he’s rearranging words that never come out right.
He tries again, desperate now. “Did I do somethin’? Because if I did, I swear I’m not tryin’ to mess this up. I just need you to talk to me, okay.”
Your chest tightens. You squeeze your eyes shut.
“Steve,” you say softly, cutting him off before he can dig himself deeper, “can you turn off the light, please?”
He gets the hint; you don’t want to talk.
He freezes for a second, then nods once. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
He stands, reaches for the lamp, and the room falls into darkness. He lingers there for a moment longer, like he’s hoping you’ll turn back around, say his name, give him something to hold onto.
You don’t.
“Night,” he says quietly.
“Night,” you reply, barely audible.
He lies down beside you, careful not to touch, staring up at the ceiling with the awful, sinking realization that this is what losing you looks like..
As the days passed, then quietly turned into weeks, you built a new routine that did not include Steve in it at all. It happened slowly enough that it almost felt reasonable at first.
You learned how to time your mornings so you were out the door before he woke up, learned how to come home late enough that conversation felt unnecessary, learned how to smile just enough to keep him from asking questions that you did not have the strength to answer.
Avoiding him became second nature. Lying became easy.
You spent most of your days outside, anywhere that was not the house and not around him. Sometimes you sat beside your nana’s hospital bed for hours, holding her hand and watching the rise and fall of her chest just to remind yourself that people stayed alive even when everything went wrong.
Other days you walked until your legs ached, wandering neighborhoods you barely recognized, letting exhaustion drown out thought. Occasionally you called a friend, anyone who would answer, and let the hours blur together in cafes and parking lots and friendly conversations that never went anywhere deep enough to hurt.
It got to the point where you could not remember the last time you had kissed him without forcing yourself to think about it, and when you did, the number made your stomach twist. Four days. Four whole days since his mouth had been on yours, since his hands had found your waist without asking, since you had slept tangled together instead of inches apart.
There was a time when five minutes apart felt unbearable, when you haunted each other in hallways and kitchens and doorways, hands always reaching, always searching.
You grew used to the distance.
Steve though, did not.
His patience thinned in ways that showed. It did not help that things with Dustin were already strained. Steve started snapping again and retreating into old habits he thought he had outgrown.
He tried to pull himself back every time he felt it happening, tried to reach for you like he always had.
And every time he did, you stepped further away.
That was how he found himself one late afternoon sitting on the couch, elbows braced on his knees, staring at the front door.
You had been gone all day again, supposedly with Nancy, doing whatever it was you told him you were doing now.
Steve knew you were close to her, knew you trusted her, but not to the point where you would spend hours every other day together. Still, he told himself not to judge. Girls were odd in their friendships, and he did not want to be the guy who questioned everything.
But his mind would not shut up.
Every instinct in him was screaming that something was wrong, that he needed to do something instead of sitting there waiting. He was snapped out of his thoughts when the doorbell rang.
Steve was on his feet instantly, relief and fear colliding in his chest as he rushed to the door. He yanked it open, already ready to say your name.
Instead, Nancy Wheeler stood there.
For a split second, his brain refused to process it. Then panic slammed into him so hard it stole the air from his lungs. If you were supposed to be with Nancy, then why is she standing here alone?
“Where is she?” he blurted out, voice sharp and scared. “Is she okay? What happened?”
Nancy blinked in shock at his reaction, taking in the way his shoulders were tight, the way his hands were already shaking like he’d been holding himself together by sheer force of will. “Whoa, Steve, hey,” she said quickly. “Slow down. What’s going on?”
“What,” he shot back, breath uneven, eyes already scanning the driveway behind her like you might suddenly appear. “Where’s she? Why are you here without her, Nancy?”
Nancy frowned. “Without who?”
“Y/N,” he snapped, panic bleeding into anger because fear always did that to him. “I’m talking about Y/N.”
Her expression shifted immediately. “Yeah,” she said slowly, “that’s actually why I’m here. I haven’t heard from her in weeks. I just wanted to check in.”
The words hit him like a punch straight to the chest.
“What do you mean you haven’t heard from her?” he said, quieter now, like saying it louder might make it real. “You were literally together today?”
Nancy let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Steve, no. I’ve been with Jonathan all day. He’s waiting in the car right now. I just stopped by because I was worried about her.”
The color drained from his face so fast it scared her.
“Steve,” she said carefully, stepping closer, “you’re freaking me out. What’s going on?”
He swallowed hard, throat tight like it was closing in on itself. “She’s been telling me she’s with you,” he said. “Every time she’s gone. She says she’s with you.”
Nancy stared at him. “Why would she lie about that?”
“I don’t know,” he said, voice cracking despite how hard he tried to keep it together. “That’s the thing, Nance, I don’t know. One day she was everywhere. Everywhere. I couldn’t turn around without her being there, couldn’t breathe without feelin’ her next to me, and then suddenly it’s like she vanished. We didn’t fight. I–i didn't do anything. At least not that I remember.”
Nancy sighed, rubbing her forehead, her tone firm but not unkind. “Steve. You don’t just wake up one day like that. Something must've happened.”
“No, no, no” he said immediately, shaking his head. “No, I would know. I would remember if I fucked up that bad.”
“And you didn’t think to ask her?” Nancy pressed.
“I did,” he snapped. “I tried. Every time I tried she’d shut it down, say she was tired or busy or fine. What the hell was I supposed to do, corner her?”
“She was clingy, okay. I’ll say it. I couldn’t go anywhere without her, couldn’t get a second alone, and then suddenly it’s like she was gone.”
Nancy’s head snapped up. “Don’t,” she said sharply.
“What?” he shot back.
“You do not call her clingy, Steve!” Nancy said, anger flaring now. “You don’t get to use that word with Y/N out of all people!”
He bristled. “Oh come on, Nancy. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Yeah, you did,” she said. “And even if you didn’t, it doesn’t matter. In case you’ve forgotten, Harrington, we’re all wrapped up in this upside down bullshit because we have to be. I do it because of Mike and Barb. You do it because of Dustin. Guess what? She doesn’t have to be involved in it!”
Steve opened his mouth, then stopped.
“That girl is fucking traumatized, and she went through that shit because you dragged her into it!” Nancy continued, voice steady but fierce.
“She nearly died. She was attacked by monsters that shouldn’t exist. She watched Eddie die just like the rest of us, and she doesn’t get to talk about it with anyone outside this circle. She can’t go to her friends or her family and say, ‘hey, I got slimed by an interdimensional monster and almost got ripped apart.’ The only person she feels safe enough to lean on is you!”
His jaw tightened, guilt creeping in through the cracks.
“So yeah,” Nancy went on, “maybe she leaned too hard or she didn’t know how to be alone after that. But that doesn’t make her clingy, Steve. That makes her scared.”
He dragged a hand down his face. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
“I know,” Nancy said. “But intent doesn’t erase impact. Something you said or did made her feel like she was too much, like she was a burden, and instead of yelling or crying she did the only thing she could think to do. She disappeared.”
Steve let out a shaky breath. “She’s been lying to me, Nancy.”
“She’s protecting herself,” Nancy said. “You need to see things in her light”
Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.
“So what,” he said finally, voice raw. “What if she’s just… done? What if she realized she doesn’t need me?”
Nancy softened then, stepping closer. “Steve. She needs you. She just doesn’t think she’s allowed to anymore. And that’s on you to fix.”
He looked at her, eyes glassy. “How?”
“You talk to her,” Nancy said simply. “Really talk. Don't accuse her or get defensive. Listen to her.”
She glanced back toward the driveway. “I’ll stop by tomorrow and check on her too, okay? But you can’t let this sit. Whatever’s going on, it’s clearly eating both of you alive.”
Steve nodded faintly, chest aching. “Yeah.”
Nancy opened the door, then paused. “And Steve.”
“Yeah?”
“Snap out of it,” she said firmly. “Before you lose her for real.”
With that, she left, heading back toward Jonathan’s car, while Steve stood alone in the doorway.
Ironically, barely ten minutes after Nancy and Jonathan pulled out of the driveway, you came home.
The house was dark. Too dark.
Your stomach dropped immediately, panic flaring hot and fast as you stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind you. No lights. No TV. No noise.
For a split second, every worst-case scenario you’d trained yourself not to think about came crashing in all at once.
“Steve?” you called out, voice tight.
Footsteps shuffled, and then he appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, lit only by the faint glow from the stove light.
“Hey,” he said, like nothing in the world was wrong.
You froze for half a beat. “Oh. Hi.”
There was something awkward in the air instantly, like you’d both stepped into the same room carrying entirely different weights. He leaned against the counter, trying to look casual.
“How was your day?” he asked.
You shrugged, slipping your shoes off. “It was… alright.”
His eyes drifted to the bag clutched in your hand, the crinkled plastic catching his attention. “What’s that?”
“Oh,” you said quickly, glancing down at it. “I stopped by the pharmacy to get the cream. For, uh… you know. The scarring.”
He nodded, softer now. “That’s good.”
Neither of you said anything else as you walked down the hall together. The bedroom felt smaller than usual as Steve sat on the edge of the bed while you set the bag down.
“Um,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you want me to help you apply it?”
You hesitated for a second. Then you nodded and handed him the bag.
He unsealed the ointment while you slipped your shirt off and sat cross-legged on the floor, your back to him. You were suddenly acutely aware of every scar—deep, jagged reminders carved across your back and abdomen from the demogorgon attack. Old wounds, but never really gone.
Steve didn’t react the way you always feared people might. He never did.
His hands were warm as he scooped some of the cream, spreading it carefully across your skin gently. He worked it into your shoulders, thumbs pressing lightly as he massaged your shoulders.
You let yourself breathe.
He kept going until he was done, smoothing the last of it in with quiet focus. As you started to shift, ready to stand and pull your shirt back on, you felt it—
Two soft kisses. One pressed over each long scar crossing your back.
Your heart kicked hard against your ribs.
You stood quickly, sliding your shirt back on, suddenly unsure what to do with all the space between you. You were halfway to the door when his voice stopped you.
“Uhm, Y/n.”
You turned. “Yeah?”
He reached out, fingers wrapping gently around your hand, and tugged you a step closer. “Can we talk?”
He keeps hold of your hand when you hesitate.
“Talk about what?” you ask quietly.
Steve doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he steps closer, close enough that you can feel the heat of him, the familiar gravity that’s always pulled you in whether you wanted it to or not. His hand tightens around yours like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he loosens his grip.
“I know I’ve been shitty,” he says again, like repeating it might finally make it land where it needs to. His voice is low and rough, scraped raw by guilt. “I know I’ve been so far away from you. I know you felt it. I saw it, even when I pretended I didn’t.” He swallows hard.
“And I know you’re going through things—things I can’t even fully understand—and I hate that instead of being the person you could come to, the person who made it easier, I—”
He cuts himself off with a sharp breath, hand lifting to his face like he can physically stop the words from spilling.
Your chest tightens so painfully it almost steals your breath.
“I panicked,” he rushes on, panic bleeding straight through his words now. “I didn’t know how to handle it. Knowing someone was dependent on me, really dependent on me, not just for rides or babysitting or stupid shit like that, but emotionally.” His voice wavers. “I thought I was gonna screw it up. Thought I already was screwing it up. And instead of dealing with that like an adult, I freaked out.”
He laughs once, sharp and broken. “God, I thought I needed space. I thought if I pulled back, things would calm down, that we’d both breathe easier. But fuck—” His voice cracks hard on the word. “This is so much worse. You being gone is so much worse than you being everywhere. I’d give anything to have you hovering around me again, asking if I’m okay, touching my arm, sittin’ too close on the couch.”
He steps closer, hands shaking as they come up to your sides.
“Please,” he whispers, forehead nearly brushing yours now, eyes glossy and wrecked. “Please, sweetheart. Don’t stop being dependent on me. Don’t stop needing me. Don’t stop loving me.”
Your breath stutters, a broken sound caught somewhere between your chest and your throat.
“I need you to need me,” he says, the words spilling faster, desperate and unfiltered. “I didn’t realize it until you pulled away, but I do. I need it. I need you. Because I can’t do this anymore. I can’t wake up every day wondering if you’re okay and knowing it’s my fault you don’t tell me.” His voice drops to a whisper.
“I can’t do this without you.”
That’s when you break.
The sob tears out of you violently, ripping through your chest like something finally gave way. Your knees nearly buckle as you fold into him, crying so hard your body shakes, hiccups jerking through each breath.
Steve reacts instantly, arms wrapping around you tight, crushing you to his chest like if he lets go you’ll disappear for real this time.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, voice breaking completely now. “I’m so sorry. Fuck—fuck, baby, don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”
His hand moves up and down your back in slow, steady motions, grounding and familiar, his chin pressing into your hair. You cry into his shirt until it’s damp, until your throat burns and your lungs ache and you feel wrung out and hollow.
Eventually, trembling, you pull back just enough to look at him.
“I heard you, Steve,” you say, the words tripping over themselves.
He freezes. “You… heard what?”
Your hands curl into fists at your sides, nails biting into your palms like you deserve the sting. “A few weeks ago. At the station. I left early and forgot my coat.” Your voice wobbles badly now. “I came back, and I heard you.”
The color drains from his face so fast it scares you.
“You were talking to Robin,” you continue, tears spilling again. “You said I was clingy. You said I was suffocating you.”
“Oh—no,” he breathes, panic exploding across his features. “No, no, no, baby, please—”
“I didn’t mean to be,” you sob. “I swear I didn’t. I wasn’t trying to trap you or make you feel stuck. I just—” Your breath breaks, the words barely making it out. “I only felt safe with you. And everyone else was doing okay. Everyone. And I wasn’t. I was falling apart and I didn’t know how to move on from everything that happened.”
You swallow hard, voice dropping to something small and raw. “And somewhere along the way, it started to feel like you weren’t loving me anymore.”
Your eyes lift to his, shining. “It felt like you were just… tolerating it. Tolerating me.”
Steve’s hands come up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing your tears away like each one physically hurts him.
“Baby,” he says fiercely, voice shaking as his arms tighten around you. “You can cling to me as tight as you want and as long as you want. I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to pull away to protect me.”
His voice drops, thick and aching, the words pressed straight into your hair. “I love you so much it hurts. I love you so much it scares me, and instead of owning that, I ran my mouth and said somethin’ stupid and careless. And I hate that it hurt you. I hate that I made you feel like you were too much when all you ever were was… you.”
He presses his forehead to yours, breath shaky. “You were never suffocating me. I was just scared of how much I needed you back.”
You search his face, eyes swollen, chest still hitching with quiet aftershocks of sobs. He looks wrecked and earnest and painfully open, like every wall he’s ever built has finally come down.
“It’s okay, Steve,” you whisper, even though the words wobble on the way out, even though they don’t quite feel solid yet.
He shakes his head immediately, curls bouncing with the movement. “It’s not. It’s really not.” His hands slide up your back, holding you close. “But we’re gonna fix it, okay? I will fix it. I promise. I don’t care how long it takes.”
His forehead presses against yours again, like he’s grounding himself. “Just… don’t pull away from me ever again.”
You nod, slow but sure, arms wrapping around him fully now as you bury your face into his chest. He holds you like he means it this time, rocking you gently, big hands warm and steady like they’re reminding you that he’s real, that he’s here.
You breathe him in.
And then—
Grrrgrgrgrgrgr.
You freeze for half a second.
Then you pull back just enough to look up at him, eyes still wet, face scrunched, and you burst out laughing—broken, hiccupy laughter that comes out of you mid-cry.
“Are you—” you sniff, laughing harder, “—are you hungry?”
Steve’s face goes bright red.
“I—” he stammers, mortified. “I was gonna wait for you to come back, okay? I didn’t wanna eat without you.”
That just makes you laugh more. You press your face back into his chest, shoulders shaking, and he lets out a breathy laugh too, embarrassed but relieved, his arms tightening around you again.
“God,” he mutters. “Timing, huh.”
You tilt your head up and kiss him. He kisses you back immediately, like he’s been starving for it just as much as food. When you pull away, barely an inch, he leans in again and kisses you harder this time and deeper, pouring everything unsaid into it.
He breaks the kiss with a breathless laugh, forehead resting against yours. “Missed kissing you.”
You smile. “Me too.”
He exhales, then straightens suddenly like he’s had an epiphany. “You know what?”
“What?” you ask.
“I am starving,” he says, dead serious. “And I’m pretty sure you are too.”
You blink. “Steve—”
“Come on,” he says, already grabbing your hand and tugging you gently toward the door. “Grab a coat.”
“Wait,” you laugh, stumbling after him. “Where are we even going?”
He grins over his shoulder, that familiar boyish smile you fell in love with. “Enzo’s.”
Your eyes widen. “What? No, Steve, that place is expensive. And you need a reservation and— I can just heat something up, it’s fine—”
“Nope,” he cuts in immediately. “Absolutely not.”
“Steve—”
“I gotta spend the next year or so making it up to you,” he says, squeezing your hand. “Minimum.”
You gape at him. “But—”
“Too late,” he says cheerfully, already opening the door.
You stumble as he leads you out to the car, the night air cool against your skin. He opens your door for you like always, and excitedly smiles at you. As the engine starts and the house disappears in the rearview mirror, you lean back in your seat, heart full and sore and warm all at once.
Deep down, you know it again: Steve will stay by your side. He’ll wait while you heal. He’ll hold you steady until you’re strong enough to take steps on your own.
And Steve knows, wholeheartedly, that he’ll be the one clinging to you just as tightly. Because you’re the only one he’s ever loved enough to spill his heart to.
And, apparently, spend three hundred and ninety dollars on at some fancy restaurant without even blinking.
Summary: In which you and Steve get to have your dream.
Warnings: none that I can think of, labor and delivery
-
Staring down the mind flayer’s form in front of you, instant dread filled you and if it wasn’t for Steve grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the canyon… you would’ve given up then and there.
But you had to fight.
Fight for what you and Steve wanted. Marriage. Kids. A life together.
It wasn’t easy, and Steve thought he almost lost you as you both stabbed the mind flayer from below.
Guts and goo rained down as the fight became very close.
-
18 months had passed since everyone defeated Vecna. Life was normal, simple, easy.
You and Steve had everything you wanted in life.
Watching from the bleachers, you saw Steve encouraging one of the kids on the baseball team. He always looked so adorable with his Couch Steve jacket.
Once the kid scurried to the home plate, Steve took a moment to wave and wink at you. With a smile back, you delicately placed a hand on your stomach. After trying for a year, you and Steve were expecting a little girl any day now.
He was so excited when the doctor confirmed your pregnancy, nearly screaming at the top of his lungs as he spun you around. Until he got scared and planted you down, worried the baby was gonna be lopsided in the womb.
Everything was perfect now.
Watching the kids graduate made you sob uncontrollably, and Steve tried to reassure you it was just the hormones getting to you. You slapped him with your purse when he said that.
Steve only laughed and Robin gave you sympathy shoulder hug and handed you a tissue.
After the ceremony, Steve drove you to the old Sqawk station where you were going to meet up with Jonathan, Nancy, and Robin.
You grumbled about having to go to the roof, but Steve held your hand the entire way and only made comments of encouragement. “You’re doing great, honey. Just a few more steps.”
“That’s what you said twenty steps ago when I could still feel my toes.” You mumbled, only to brighten up when you saw Nancy at the top of the steps.
“Is Steve making you climb all these steps?” Nancy put her hands on her hips before moving to grab your other arm to help you up.
“Yeah, the least my husband could do is carry me.” You stuck your tongue out at him. “You did knock me up after all.”
Steve raised his free hand in defense. “I recall someone enjoying it, though.”
“Oh, gross, Steve.” Nancy grimaced as the three of you finally made it to the roof.
Jonathan ran to give you a huge hug and playfully smacked Steve’s shoulder. “Can’t believe you’re getting one of your nuggets.”
You smiled at the nickname all of them had given your baby girl. Will had even drawn a McDonald’s McNugget with Steve’s hair and nail bat as a gift for you two at your baby shower. You framed it and always giggled whenever you looked at it. Steve complained that he drew his hair way too big and not enough swoop.
“Hopefully, if the wife lets me, I’ll get five more after.” Steve gave you a hopeful look and crossed his fingers.
“You’ll be lucky if you get three.” You patted his shoulder and waddled to a seat. “How’s everyone been?”
With tearful eyes and laughter, you all reminisced on times before, and became hopeful for times ahead.
It was during one of Steve’s speeches where he was staring at the scenery that you began to feel odd.
It wasn’t until Robin grabbed your shoulder and gave you a small shake. “(Y/n)… you, uh.” She pointed to your feet. You glanced down and saw a pool of water.
Nancy and Jonathan immediately stopped listening to Steve once you let out a small gasp.
“(Y/n)?” Nancy said and went in front of you. “Oh my gosh. Steve!”
“I know, I know, I’m just a big sap now. I think I’m the one with the pregnancy hormones.” Steve rattled on and on with his back turned to you four.
“No, Steve! That’s not it!” Jonathan said and went to your side as well.
“Jonathan, I know I can’t have pregnancy hormones, it was a joke.” Steve laughed.
“STEVE!” The four of you yelled in sync which made him snap around.
You pointed to the ground and smiled. “My water broke.”
Steve dropped his beer and it shattered, but he paid no mind as he ran forward. He moved everyone out of the way and scooped you up so swiftly.
You let out a grunt but didn’t complain as he rushed you down the stairs.
Nancy called from behind you two, “we’ll call the others! Meet you there!”
You did a half hazard thumbs up before scurrying your arms around Steve’s neck. “Oh, now you’ll carry me.”
“You are not having your baby at the Squawk.”
You laughed and patted his cheek. “A little chicken at the squawk!”
He smiled at you, but you could see the fear in his eyes. After rushing out of the building, he carefully placed you in the passenger seat. “We’ll be there in no time, baby.”
You reached out for him as he was about to shut the door. “Steve?”
“Yes, baby?”
“We’re gonna be okay. Just breathe for me, okay? I need your head on your shoulders.” You chuckled and placed your hand on his cheek. Stroking his cheek with your thumb, he kissed the inside of your hand before letting out a breath.
“We’re gonna do this.” Steve said and tears were threatening to fall. “We’re gonna have a baby.”
-
Your daughter took her sweet time coming into the world, and Steve, while trying not to panic outwardly, still paced. He would help you through every contraction, make sure the doctor and nurses were listening to you and not trying to force anything upon you. He would brush your hair from your face, kiss your forehead, and try to make you feel better with jokes.
Not long after, your baby girl made her grand entrance crying at the top of her lungs.
You were exhausted and felt ready to pass out, but you couldn’t help but cry in relief once they placed her on your chest.
Steve was sobbing like a mad man, praising you and giving you endless forehead kisses. “She’s so beautiful, baby.”
-
It wasn’t until the next day that everyone was allowed to visit.
You sat holding your precious baby girl while Steve sat on the bed next to you two.
The kids all crowded your bed immediately, Max scolding Lucas for standing too close, Dustin crying, Mike asking a ton of questions, Will asking how you were.
Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin all were in awe of the little girl and talked to Steve about the delivery.
Joyce and Hopper stood admiring the whole group, making sure to let everyone have their moment with the three of you.
You were grateful for all that had happened, even if it meant having to slay monsters from another universe to get your happy life with Steve.
Steve always wished for this life and seeing you hold your baby girl with a ring on your finger made every battle, injury, and painful moment worth it all.
Summary: With complicated history, you and Mike struggle with the love you once shared.
Warnings: Angsty, communication problems, very long fic!
Song Based Fic: Back to the Old House by the Smiths
Stranger Things MASTERLIST
-
I would rather not go
Back to the old house
I would rather not go
Back to the old house
You remember your first time seeing Mike. He was with Dustin, arguing about their recent DnD match. The latter was unhappy about how their recent campaign had gone. You giggled as Mike only rolled his eyes and tried to hurry onto his bike to get away.
The second time you saw him, it was at the Snowball dance. He was dancing with Eleven, then. They looked so innocent then, you all did. The world never seemed to be able to take any of you down.
You were still too shy to ever talk to any of them, choosing to keep your distance. They never knew you, but you had seen them around, always hearing rumors that spread so fast and easily in school.
The third time you saw him was at the mall. He had bumped into you, making you drop your icecream to the ground with a sad plop.
You wanted to be upset, truly, but you couldn’t when you landed eyes on him. It felt weird to be so close to him after hearing so many horrible rumors about him.
“I am so sorry.” He said, his voice cracking in a way that made you laugh. “What’d I say?”
“Nothing, nothing. You can just buy me a new one.”
There's too many bad memories
Too many memories
You had become apart of the group after that, only to arrive at one of the worst times. You had watched as Billy was mind controlled, citizens were consumed to become apart of the mind flayer.
Mike was still with Eleven by the time all of this happened, but he still felt guilty for dragging you into everything. You had always told him it was okay, you had friends now because of him, right?
Mike wasn’t there to see you at your worst. You began to isolate yourself slowly but surely, everyone wondering what was wrong with you. You saw Max doing the same thing, and understood why she did it. She had to see her brother killed right in front of her.
You always felt like you had no excuse to treat them cold, but whenever you were around them you couldn’t help but be brought to those horrible places. Dustin’s smile replaced with a scream, Max’s jokes replaced with a wail, Lucas’ charm replaced with silence, Will’s kindness broken by what had happened.
You saw how everyone was affected, yet they wanted to pretend it was okay.
You couldn’t sit around, pretending you weren’t traumatized by what happened.
When you cycled by, here began all my dreams
Mike noticed your absence the most and felt responsible for it. He would ride his bike down your street in hopes of seeing you, but you were never home.
He would always tell your parents to let you know he had dropped by. But you ignored them whenever they told you, because you couldn’t face him anymore.
He was tempted to buy you flowers and leave it for you, to remind you that someone was still there if you wanted to talk. But he always felt odd, conflicted with what he felt towards you. He wanted to be your friend, but his relationship with El made everything tricky.
The saddest thing I've ever seen
And you never knew
It was freshman year when you really started to see the cracks in everything. Max and you isolated, Lucas focused on basketball, Will and El moved away to California, and Mike and Dustin joined Eddie’s Hellfire Club.
You had heard from Dustin that Mike and El had called off their relationship, the pain and distance too much for them. If it had been a year earlier, you would have been sad for Mike but a selfish part of you had wanted to be with him. It was childish love. The constant looks you had thrown at him over the years, but he had never seen you, truly. While he was your friend for that one summer, you were different now.
Mike knew he was moving on too quick from El, his feelings for you rapid. He tried to blame it on his teenage mind and ignored it. But he couldn’t ignore the way you were basically a loner now and he felt even more guilty when he saw you by yourself constantly. Middle school, sure you could pass off for being lonely; but high school, as a freshman it was different.
Mike finally chased you down one day and had basically forced you into a closet to confront you. He was worried.
You rubbed your eyes, exasperated with him. Conversations these days with anyone were unbearable. And the feelings for him deep inside you that you buried bubbled angrily, neglected.
“Mike, I gotta go to class.”
“I know it’s your free period.”
“It doesn’t matter I have things to do.”
Mike sighed and moved in front of the door, preventing you from leaving. “I’m not letting you go until you talk to me.”
“What is there to say?” You didn’t feel like explaining to him you had constant nightmares and how anytime you thought about it too much you would burst into tears.
“Everything. You can talk to me.” His eyes were pleading as he placed his hands on your shoulders. “If anyone is going to know, it’s me.”
You shrugged him off of you. “Really? You have nightmares about everything?”
He grew silent, but eventually nodded his head yes. “I had to witness a lot before you came into my life, and honestly, I wish I could talk about it more with everyone… Everyone’s just kinda separated, in their own worlds.”
You saw how much it pained him to admit it, but the relief was evident. “It’s not like I’m trying to punish you or anything, it’s just… hard, Mike. I can’t get the images out of my head and it pains me too much to see you all. Like, I can’t fix anything or my stupid brain. I want to be able to turn off the noise.” A few tears fell down your face, and Mike was quick to wipe them away slowly.
You let your eyes close as a deep breath rattled through you. That was all it took for you to break down sobbing.
Mike grabbed you into his arms in an instant, holding you close to his chest. “I’m here now.”
How much I really liked you
Because I never even told you
Mike kept you close after that, making sure to never let you leave his sight. Dustin would complain that you being at the D&D meetings would mean you had to join. Mike would roll his eyes and tell you to ignore him. Eddie didn’t mind you one bit and even made you a designated seat.
It was better after that, having Mike at your side. Even if the two of you didn’t talk, you knew with a single look he would understand what you were feeling. He was caring in that way. It felt like everything was going to be okay.
It wasn’t long after, though, that your parents decided to move you away. They felt you weren’t flourishing at Hawkins anymore. You cried and begged them, telling them things were different now. You had Mike.
And while neither of you admitted it, the small childish crush was becoming more.
“Mike? The one you ignored for months?” Your father scoffed as he continued to pack. “Sweetie, you need a fresh start. This town is no good.”
Oh, and I meant to
Are you still there?
You should have told Mike. You should’ve.
But you couldn’t face him, tell him you were leaving after he had opened up to you. You couldn’t bear to see what his face would convey, if he would beg or find a way for you to be by his side.
You decided on doing nothing, maybe it was better to not say anything and leave. He would connect the dots. He would feel betrayed.
But your selfish heart couldn’t take it.
Mike picked you up from your house to walk to Dustin’s house for the new campaign they were about to start. He was wearing his Hellfire club shirt with a denim jacket and black jeans that were cuffed at the bottom.
You took your time admiring him, knowing it would be the last time you would see him. You tried your best to make sure he didn’t see the moving boxes inside.
The two of you walked side by side, your hands occasionally touching as the night air slowly moved around you two.
Dustin’s house wasn’t far from yours, but it seemed like the perfect time to walk slowly to enjoy Mike’s presence.
“You alright in there?” Mike tapped your head playfully.
You smiled at him and tapped his as well. “Mm I can ask you the same.” He had been extra quiet when he picked you up.
“Just thinking about the last few weeks, happy you’re back in my life.”
Your smile faltered, hoping he wasn’t going to ask you out. You had overheard him and Lucas talking one day when you were supposed to hang out at his house, Mike was expressing his feelings for you. They were in the basement, so they didn’t hear you creeping by the top of the stairs. They didn’t know you heard Lucas encouraging Mike to ask you out.
“You’re spacing again.” Mike chuckled and reached for your hand. You instinctively pulled away, your mind convinced you couldn’t have him. He never made it work with El long distance, what made you different?
“Sorry, I just have my mind elsewhere.” You mumbled, trying to ignore how hurt he looked that you moved away. He always had that sad, lost puppy look.
“You can talk to me if you want. If Dustin complains we’re late then I’ll just bring up him and Suzie singing again.” Mike did a half shrug.
You laughed in response, hitting his shoulder with your own. “I don’t know if I feel like hearing him whine tonight.”
“Trust me, he already will be. Eddie told me a bit of his campaign and I can already tell you, Dustin will throw a fit.” He tried again to reach for your hand, and this time you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t deny him, you loved him.
You lightly gripped onto his fingers and felt him let out a small breath of relief.
“Mike?” You stopped in your tracks. He stared down at you, confused.
“Yeah?”
You couldn’t help it. Your selfish, selfish heart.
Mike was taller, so you reached up to grab him softly from behind the neck, pulling him down. Your lips smashed against his own, and it wasn’t long before Mike registered what was happening and let go of your hand. He instead grabbed onto your waist, pulling you closer.
It felt like every puzzle piece in your brain was scattered, like every beat of your heart became in sync with his, like you would slip away if he let go.
You moved away first, letting yourself catch your breath. Mike placed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. He looked so peaceful, so happy, so handsome.
“I was planning on taking you out on a date first.” Mike whispered in the space between you two, a small smile ghosting his face.
Your heart broke then and there. How could you? How could you do this to him?
His eyes fluttered open and it only made your heart tear more.
“Well you’ll have to ask me later then, because the longer we take the more Dustin will whine.” You tried to scramble for a reason to get out of this situation no matter how much you wanted to stay.
Mike nodded, moving away but not far enough. He grabbed onto your hand again and led the way.
Or have you moved away?
Or have you moved away?
Once Eddie’s campaign was finished, Mike walked you back home. Your heart was racing and you wanted nothing more than to run away from him, to ignore your feelings once more and hole yourself up until you left.
You were to move in two days, on Friday.
Mike still held your hand as he walked you back, and the second you reached your house, he let go and smiled at you. “Would you like to do me the honor of going on a date with me Saturday?”
You wanted to burst into tears, tell him the truth. Tell him.
Your mouth was too quick for your brain. “I would love to.” Too quick for your heart.
Selfish, selfish.
“I’ll see you then.”
With smiles and promises, he left you as you entered your house.
You collapsed to the ground the second the door was shut behind you. Tears streamed down your cheeks, sobs raking your body.
Friday came sooner than expected.
You should tell Mike, you should run to him, make things work with the long distance. But your constant reminder that he wouldn’t, and your selfish heart couldn’t bear the thought of him rejecting you, not wanting to make the effort.
You stared at your empty house, tears were non existent at that point because you had already cried everything out.
The house creaked as you left and sat in your parents car with the moving truck right behind.
You thought you could leave undetected, but you failed to see Dustin riding his bike in time to see you leaving.
It didn’t take long for Mike to show up after a frantic walkie talkie announcement from Dustin.
Mike stood on your front lawn, seeing the “For Sale” sign, but not wanting to believe you would just disappear. You wouldn’t leave without an explanation, right?
I would love to go
Back to the old house
Years came and went, your heart never healing from what you left behind in Hawkins. Unresolved love that simmered with a fiery passion within you.
Mike grew cold, even when Vecna came and was defeated eventually, he could never close the chapter with you. You were impossible to find. Nobody knew where you had fled to.
He was angry with you and thought you had led him on. But as time passed he couldn’t hate you, he never could. You were the only one he had ever truly opened up to, and now he felt more alone now than ever.
But I never will
I never will, I never will
You convinced yourself returning to Hawkins was only to close the chapter with Mike. You both were twenty now, and high school love shouldn’t follow you into your twenty’s, right?
Owing him an explanation was the least you could do for him. Years without contact made you realize how silly you had acted, telling him and leaving on good terms would have been better. But you had wanted more with him, that kiss has always replayed in your head whenever you daydreamed too long.
You never sought a relationship, and Mike never even considered it after you left. Despite El coming back in his life, they were friends now. Their own relationship had been innocent since they were kids. But Mike never stopped holding onto the idea of you.
It was hard for you to stand in front of your old house, seeing it for the first time in years. The new family there had made so many improvements, and you oh so badly wanted to step back inside. To stand where you and Mike had endless talks about what you each were going through. But there was always laughter in those moments. He knew how to make you laugh until you snorted, and you knew how to make him laugh so hard he would cry.
Those moments you held dear.
You hated yourself for what you did to him, but at the same time, you had last seen him with a smile on his face. You couldn’t have beared to see him broken down.
I never will
Before you started to look suspicious staring at someone’s house, you began your walk down the long stretch of road to Mike’s house. You had made a risky phone call to see if the Wheelers still even lived there. Holly had answered the phone, her voice so mature now. You begged her not to tell Mike you were there, that you wanted to greet him on your own terms. She was cautious to say the least, letting you know very clearly that Mike had been heartbroken over you.
You had sighed into the phone, expecting to hear that. But she promised not to say anything and told you to hurry over before he got home from taking classes at the community college.
Grateful Holly even answered the phone, the walk to their house didn’t feel so horrible. Even if Mike screamed at you or threw you out of his house, you at least knew he was alive. Something you feared after years of being away.
Waiting in his room, you examined everything that was different. He had taken down a few of his figurines, but he still had his nerdy side showing. His room was slightly messy, so it was nice to know some things hadn’t changed. You sat anxiously on his bed for him to return.
The second the front door opened, you could hear him yelling.
“Holly don’t forget to take the trash out or mom will kill us both!”
Your heart skipped a beat hearing his voice, still the same but deeper now. It made you almost want to cry hearing it again.
Footsteps rumbled up the stairs and you stood, fixing your tussled hair and shirt that crumpled while you sat.
The door opened quickly, and Mike jumped, dropping his backpack.
You smiled awkwardly at him, waving like an idiot. “Hi, Mike.”
He stared at you for a good second, his mouth slightly open. “Am I hallucinating?”
“No, I’m really here.” You said, moving forward. Taking that cautious step towards him felt like needles were stabbing your feet.
He took a step backwards. “Why are you here?”
You tried to not make it obvious it hurt, but what had you expected? Him to pick you up in his arms, spin you around like nothing has happened.
“I wanted to… talk, I guess?” After trying to find the words on the drive to Hawkins, they still couldn’t find you. “I can’t keep living in the past.”
Mike was unsure as he took a step into his bedroom and closed the door behind him. “Then why did you run from it?”
You closed your eyes for a few seconds to collect yourself, not wanting to confront it. You were already here, though. There was not anything you can lose again.
“I was stupid and scared, and that’s no excuse for what I did to you.” You let out a shaky breath. “I wanted nothing more than to be with you, but my parents thought Hawkins wasn’t good for me anymore. I couldn’t bear to tell you that I was leaving you. I didn’t want the last look I saw on your face to be upset, but rather…”
“But rather, me happily planning a date with you.” Mike crossed his arms. “Did you think the distance would affect whatever… relationship we had?”
“Do you blame me for thinking that? I saw what happened with you and El once she had moved. I didn’t want that for us. I thought no contact would be better than getting both of our hearts broken.”
“Well you still managed to break mine.” Mike said it before he could think. The pain was evident on your face, but you knew you deserved it. “I’m sorry, I just… (y/n), you had to have known I would’ve made it work. I told you that you were the only person I had ever opened up to. What makes you think I would’ve stopped opening up to you?”
“My mind tricked me into believing you wouldn’t. And as the years went on, I realized how foolish that was.” You said, tears starting to form at the corners of your eyes. “I was scared, Mike… after all I saw happened with Max, Billy, for heavens sake, the people consumed by the mind flayer… I just, I couldn’t bear to see you torn apart by some monster. I couldn’t bear the thought of loving someone so much and seeing them brutally killed.”
Mike stared at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
You realized too late what you admitted. You loved him.
“I want to be angry with you, I truly do.” Mike said with a breathy voice that seemed to be ready to crack. “But I can’t. I couldn’t be angry with you all these years. I loved you too much to do that. You were everything to me. All I wanted was to be with you, it didn’t matter if we had distance or not. I would fly every single month if it meant I could be with you, (y/n).” Mike stepped closer, so close you were in arms reach. “I would’ve traversed the upside down if it meant I could be with you again.”
The tears fell freely now, and your heart thumped wildly. Why had you broken his heart?
“I have no excuse, Mike. I’m sorry for hurting you, for leaving you.” You made a risky move but you grabbed his arm. “I loved you, oh so much. I still love you and I hate that I do.”
“I hate that I love you, too.” Mike chuckled, and tears started to fall down his cheeks too.
He grabbed onto your face gently, almost too scared to do it. But once he realized you weren’t stopping him, he slammed his lips on your own.
You kissed back hungrily, nearly falling backwards as he hovered his entire body over yours.
Your hands grabbed at him, pulling him impossibly closer, wanting to becoming one.
Mike swiftly wrapped one of his arms around your waist and held firmly. He didn’t want you to slip away from him ever again.
You broke away from him, his heavy breathing mixing with yours.
“Does this mean we can have a rain check on that date?” Mike laughed in between tears of happiness and sadness.
You nodded quickly, pecking his lips. “I would love to.”
There’s an old Scooby Doo Promo where they recreate the iconic opening scene of the original Scream movie.
At the end of the promo it’s revealed that shaggy is just prank calling Daphne, which is extra funny because Matthew Lillard played one of the killers in Scream (Stu Macher) as well as playing Shaggy in the live action Scooby Doo movies (and later voicing the character in animation)
The thing that’s absolutely wild is that this promo aired 5 years before Matthew Lillard was cast as Shaggy for the first time.
This is exactly the kind of meta humor that the Scream Franchise loved to play with, but it was a complete accident.
Warnings: Mention of addiction, mental health issues
SPOILERS FOR THUNDERBOLTS
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It was hard to adapt to normalcy after Robert had suddenly disappeared. You were left alone in your too small apartment that felt huge and empty without him by your side.
Robert never had an easy life, even if he had you by his side, following him wherever he went. Even if his depression and addiction were sometimes too much to handle. He was forever grateful but extremely guilty that he dragged you into his mess of a life. You saw him for the person he was, not the trauma that molded his moods.
Even when he was not honest, it was hard to stay away from him. You loved him with everything you had, even if it was not much.
He loved you with a fierceness that was almost obsessive. There was a side of him that he seemed to hide from you, something darker within him that lingered. You could see it in his eyes whenever someone suggested you to leave him, another man flirting, or whenever you two go into arguments.
It was scary to see, but then it would melt away and he would be back to normal.
When he saw that there was a new research study that can make him a better man, he did not hesitate to sign up. He feared you would not approve of him being a test subject, but knew he had to do something to change. He knew loving you while a mess was never fair to you and wanted to return home to you clean and cured.
A few years passed and it didn’t make any sense for you to stay in the apartment you two shared together anymore. The constant reminder of him was too painful and the fear that he had overdosed or ended up in a ditch somewhere made you nauseous at the thought.
You had situated yourself in a New York apartment in some crumbling building, but it was all you could afford. You held onto a few photos of you and Robert, wanting to cherish his memory even if it was too painful to bear at times.
After a rough late night shift where you were barely getting home in the middle of the day, you wanted nothing more than to sink into your bed and forget about the world for awhile.
As you were situating yourself in your room, you could hear multiple screams outside your apartment. With a world full of heroes and villains, you were accustomed to panic attacks whenever you could hear trouble. You didn’t know if it meant that there was another alien invasion or a masked murderer on the loose.
You hurriedly ran to your window, only to see a dark shadow creeping onto every surface and clinging to it. In the streets, citizens were reduced to shadows.
The air suddenly left your chest as you could see it scaling the walls right outside your window. Your feet began to walk backwards and you managed to turn and flee to the kitchen.
Without a second thought, you grabbed one photo from your fridge of you and Bob, smiling together while cooking dinner. You held it to your chest and tried to run out the front door, but it was too late.
The shadow’s grip took hold and the next thing you knew you were in a pitch black room.
You knew you were screaming because your lungs felt like they were burning. No sound came from your mouth, though.
It was all so sudden.
You were laying on the ground of your old apartment with your head ringing.
You began to cry, seeing that you were in the one place that broke you into a million little pieces.
“What are you doing here?” A familiar voice cut through the air. “I told you to leave!”
You shakily raised your head up, seeing Robert leaning over you.
His eyes were manic, hair greasy and disheveled, clothes so dirty you thought he might have slept in dirt.
“Baby?” You said in a hushed voice.
“I don’t want you here anymore.”
Your slowly rose to your knees, grabbing for him. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry I left you. Where were you?”
“You left me there on the street.”
It was clicking in your head once more, it was a memory you didn’t want to relive.
“I had to, you… you were so high out of your mind you didn’t make sense.”
He scoffed pushing your needy hands away from him.
“You abandoned me when I needed you.”
He didn’t look like himself. He felt more colder than usual.
You finally stood to your feet even if you were shaking. “I’m here now. Please don’t leave me again. I thought you died.”
“You probably would’ve wanted that.”
“Never.” Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you reached for him again.
“Leave her alone!”
Suddenly there was a hoard of people who flung into the room.
You didn’t recognize any of them and moved backwards out of fear. “Who are you guys?”
They appeared to be heroes of some sort, and one of them with a shield barreled into Robert and slammed him into a wall.
“Wait! Don’t hurt him!” You screamed, running forward.
Before you could reach him, a pair of arms wrapped around you and held you back.
“Let me go! He needs me!” You shouted and struggled to get out of the grip of whoever was holding you tight.
You helplessly watched as Robert slid down the wall, but your shouts went silent as he faded into a black mist.
“I’m here now. I’m never leaving you again.”
You spun around and realized that you were being held by Robert. But he appeared healthier and not so rugged like the one who disappeared.
“Baby?” You whispered, reaching up to cup his face.
“It’s me.” He smiled, his hair framing his face in a way that made you think of fonder times. “I’m sorry for all that I did.”
You let out a shaky breath, just happy to see him again, safe and healthy in your arms. “It’s okay, baby. I know. All that matters is you’re here now. We can start over.”
You embraced him and held him close, wanting to never let go of him.
There was a sudden coldness and bright light enveloped you both. You opened your eyes to see you were on a city street.
Robert pulled away and looked towards the group of heroes who all were breathing out a breath of relief.
“They helped me.” He said in a grateful voice before turning to you. “I’m going to be better for you, now.”
You ran your finger over his lips like you always used to do before planting a sweet kiss on his lips. “I will be there every step of the way.”
