different universes, same two idiots. this masterlist is an accumulations of gojo satoru x reader x gojo satoshi in all sorts of aus <3 not everything is a series, some are oneshots.
satoshi is quite literally just a copy paste of satoru with certain aspects played up.
♡ ₊˚‧ nerd!satoru x reader x biker!satoshi
꒰ you get caught between the campus' valedictorian and hearthrob, completely unaware that they're actually twins and not just one annoying person. what happens when your heart gets caught up in the messy drama between rivaling twins? ꒱
♡ ₊˚‧ ceo!satoru x reader x crimeboss!satoshi
꒰ you're a struggling college student just trying to get by in your new & highly competitive job. to make matters worse? you had a drunk mistake with your infuriatingly charming, irritatingly rude ceo. but when the bills keep piling & you sign up for a lucrative sugar baby site, you're matched with a man that has the exact same face of the boss you're hopelessly trying to get over. ꒱
♡ ₊˚‧ rebound!satoru x reader x ex boyfriend!satoshi
꒰ really, you did this to yourself. I mean, who the hell turns around and fucks their ex's identical twin brother in a moment of weakness? well if satoshi's moved on you should too, right? right? ꒱
♡ ₊˚‧ husband!satoru x reader x curse user!satoshi
꒰ being the wife of the strongest was almost as dangerous as being the strongest himself. so you're not surprised when you're scheduled for your bi-anual hostage & ransom. well, until your kidnapper just so happens to have the same fucking face as your husband, and you find out that satoru has more secrets than you were aware of. ꒱
ex boyfriend geto showing up at your front door one evening under the guise of picking up a few things he had left at your place, but somehow instead of leaving he trips and falls and ends up balls-deep inside of you 'one last time'.
like breakup sex!! but you broke up weeks ago and he hasn't stopped fucking his fist to the memory of you spasming around his cock every single goddamn night.. he thought he might go crazy if he didn't grant himself such an experience one last time... and of course you're happy to oblige.
you mean, yeah, you broke up. but he gave good dick, and you aren't exactly thrilled to be away from him either. any rebound sex you've had has felt like a chore, trying to find a man that fills and fulfils you in the same way suguru does is so incredibly impossible.
"miss you so much," he's speaking into your ear, voice breaking into a moan as you squeeze around him in turn. "i miss you."
"you miss me?" you scratch down the muscles of his back, trying not to lose yourself in his ministrations. "or you miss this?"
"yes," you can hear the grin in his voice despite his face being hidden against your neck. "yes, yes. god, yes, both. both, baby. come on, take me back... i won't fuck up again, promise..."
your eyes roll back, though you can't tell if it's in annoyance or pleasure. probably both. "you're just saying things."
geto snaps his hips forward and into you at such a speed it knocks the breath from your lungs. mean mean man and his ways of shutting you up... "no i'm not," he groans, lifting his head to look down at you. "i can prove it."
his pace is punishing now. his attempt at reconnecting through a physical avenue has turned into something else entirely... he seems to have a goal now.
"yeah?" you grind up into his thrusts, because you'll be damned if you don't match his pace. keep up. "how's—fuck, how's that?"
one large hand snakes down to splay across your stomach. he presses down firmly, which makes the both of you gasp. you, at the pressure now exacerbating your every feeling. and him, at being able to feel himself fuck you from the inside out.
"could put a baby in here," he pressed down further. "gotta learn some responsibilities somehow, huh? if i breed you out... god, baby, we'd be such good parents. you'd look so pretty with my baby in you. plus, can't leave me if you need me around to help."
"you can't just keep me pregnant and compliant, sugu," you snort.
"no?" suguru kisses your cheek, and then your forehead, and then the tip of your nose. "you wanna bet? could knock you up again and again... sounds perfect to me, love."
he maintains this brutal pace, now driven by the urge to plant his seed, as you think he put it in his pussydrunk ramblings. each thrust forward feels deeper than the last, and you're left wondering how you lasted so long without him... why'd you break up again? you can't remember. or you don't care.
your orgasm comes first. it's overwhelming, and your first in a long time thanks to your newfound inability to get yourself across the finish line without suguru's touch. and your spasming around his cock seems to spur him over the edge as well.
though you're shocked when he pulls out and cums over your stomach. after all that talk of fucking you pregnant, too...
"thought you were gonna—"
you're cut off when suguru presses his lips to yours, kissing you silly like he used to when times were good and you'd never have considered breaking up with the man on top of you.
when he pulls back, he looks elated.
"take me back," he whispers. "i'll prove myself to you, and then i'm gonna marry you, and knock you up on our wedding night. deal?"
ah, fuck it.
"deal."
this one is also a repost but i dont like this fic it never got onto my masterlist nor will it get on my masterlist again but people asked for it back so here it is. you're allowed to accuse me of stealing this one because then i can blame someone else for writing it
Steve Harrington had a dream, a silent yet big one: having a huge family of his own. Four, five, even six little Harringtons... and his dream girl on his side to raise them with all the love he has to give to the world. And here, this dream comes true <3
This will be Steve x fem!reader but no use of y/n!
Requests are open!
I will be adding the headcanons/blurbs/one shots as I publish them, but I’ll try to put them here in chronological order
Before having kids // With Their Kids
The Harrington Children (kid fic!)
How it came to be: Steve falling for the love of his life (set in 1985)
Jealous, much? (set in 1985)
Steve and his girl reunite at Family Video after the battle of Starcourt (set in 1985)
The night Steve and his girl confess their feelings for each other (set in 1985)
Steve's and his girl's reactions after their first kiss (set in 1985)
The day Steve's girl met Dustin Henderson (set in 1985)
The baby name incident (set in 1986)
Our last New Year’s Eve as a family of three (set in the 1990’s)
Steve's and his girl's late night phone calls (set in 1986)
Steve meeting his girl's family (set in 1986)
The night Steve finally felt he belonged in a family, thanks to his girl (set in 1986)
A typical school morning at the Harrington household (set in the 2000's)
Saturdays with the Harrington family (set in the 2000's)
Steve's girl meets his parents... and it leads to Steve and his girl to say 'I love you' for the first time (set in 1986)
The day Steve and his girl learned they were having twins (set in the 1990's)
The birth of Steve Harrington's twin sons (set in the 1990's)
Steve and his girl find out they are expecting for the third time... right after having the twins (set in the 1990's)
Christmas at Casa Harrington - The first year with four little Harringtons (set in the 1990's)
The first time the twins don't do something together... and one of them suffers because of it (set in the 2000's)
Steve sneaking into his girl's room at her house for the first time (set in 1986)
eren : eren fucking you in a skirt , mutual masturbation, ride him just like that, slow and hard backshots, he missed you so much, he feels so good like this huh?, he thinks you're so cute when he overstims you, angry sex
armin : armin fucking you in his dorm , nerdmin getting his first blowjob, tying him up and making him please mommy , letting him feel mommy's pussy , reverse cowgirl , pegging your good boy for the first time! , distracting him from studying , making him watch you ride it
jean : picnic date with jean got out of hand , making out + jerking him off , he loves making you cum on his fingers first , he likes how small your hand looks wrapped around his cock in this pic , just take it , he can always make your legs shake, he can't control himself around you , they don't call him horseface for nothin
reiner : all those muscles won't stop him from being such a pathetic boy, sitting in his lap always ends up like this, he loves eating your pussy, fucking you on his desk, fucking his cum back into you, he promised he'd make it fit, who knew such a big man could be so whiny? shh its okay, he's got you
connie : he loves thrusting in your mouth like this , he loves when you use his cock like this, you're so pretty with a mouthful of his cock, you never knew connie could fuck you like this, he can go so deep like this, prone bone with connie, this is why he loves when you come over, you wore his favorite thong
levi : "even when you're like this, there's no reason for you to be sloppy." , slow easy morning sex, ask nicely and you might get what you want, this is what happens when you can't stop squirming, hands behind your back, you just couldn't wait until the two of you got home, could you? standing sex, cuddle fuck!
erwin : you disrupted him while he was at the office, feel each and every one of his thrusts, it's okay he knows you can take it, fucking you in front of the mirror, he didn't say turn around, did he?, one of his favorite ways to stretch you out, maybe this will make you listen to him next time, how you welcome home your commander after a long day
a/n : i literally got sick a day after my bday pls accept this while i nurse myself back to health </3
I love the hunting wives. this is the best slow ever I love Britney Snow, I love lesbians, I love yuri and I need to be a controversially young girlfriend by yesterday!!
it really did start with “just making out.” one tipsy movie night at his place, you’re both laughing about how long it’s been since either of you got laid, and suddenly he brings the idea up, “…wanna practice? like—purely hypothetical. so we don’t embarrass ourselves next time.” you roll your eyes but you’re already shifting closer. first kiss is clumsy and giggly. second one isn’t. by the third he’s got you straddling his lap on the couch, big hands squeezing your thighs, kissing you like he’s starving and you’re the only thing on the menu.
he’s the one who first suggests “prepping you.” says it so casually: “just wanna make sure you’re taken care of if some asshole ever gets lucky, y’know?” fingers you slow and focused on his couch, telling you to “relax, baby, i’ve got you” every time you tense up. he’s annoyingly good at it—watches your face the whole time, asks quiet little questions like “this okay?” and “here?” until you’re shaking and soaking his hand, whispering his name like a prayer.
the first time you return the favor he tries to act chill about it. fails miserably. you’re on your knees between his spread thighs, his jeans shoved down just enough, and the second your mouth touches him he lets out this broken “fuck—sweetheart—” and his head thumps back against the wall. his hand ends up cradling the back of your head—not pushing, just holding—like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he lets go. he comes embarrassingly fast and spends the next ten minutes apologizing and kissing you stupid.
after that first blowjob there’s no going back to “just friends.” now every sleepover has an unspoken rule: clothes come off at some point. he eats you out like it’s his new favorite hobby—spreads you on his bed, hooks your legs over his shoulders, groans into your cunt every time you pull his hair. calls you “pretty” and “perfect” against your clit until you’re crying his name.
he gets possessive in the quietest ways. starts leaving hickeys in places your work clothes can’t hide. when you whine about it he just smirks and goes “good. let ‘em know you’re taken care of.” you call him a caveman. he fucks you harder that night.
the first time he slides inside you raw (after weeks of “just the tip” torture), he almost blacks out. buries his face in your neck muttering “fuck, fuck, you feel—fuuck, baby—” and has to stop moving completely for a minute so he doesn’t come instantly. you tease him mercilessly. he punishes you by fucking you slow and deep until you’re begging, tears in your eyes, telling him you can’t take it anymore. he still doesn’t speed up—just keeps that devastating rhythm while whispering “yes you can, you’re doing so good f’me.”
you both pretend it’s still casual. you’ll be watching a movie, his hand will slip under your shorts, two fingers curling inside you while he pretends to pay attention to the screen. you’ll be making breakfast in his kitchen wearing nothing but his jersey and he’ll bend you over the counter without a word. neither of you says “i love you” yet—but he fucks you like he’s been in love with you since sophomore year.
he’s obsessed with coming inside you now. every time. growls “gonna fill you up, baby—fuck—gonna keep you dripping with me” while his hips stutter and he pins your wrists above your head. afterward he stays buried deep, kissing you lazy and sloppy, telling you to “just stay for a little while, yeah?”
you’re still “best friends.”
you just happen to be the kind that regularly fuck each other stupid.
eren : eren fucking you in a skirt , mutual masturbation, ride him just like that, slow and hard backshots, he missed you so much, he feels so good like this huh?, he thinks you're so cute when he overstims you, angry sex
armin : armin fucking you in his dorm , nerdmin getting his first blowjob, tying him up and making him please mommy , letting him feel mommy's pussy , reverse cowgirl , pegging your good boy for the first time! , distracting him from studying , making him watch you ride it
jean : picnic date with jean got out of hand , making out + jerking him off , he loves making you cum on his fingers first , he likes how small your hand looks wrapped around his cock in this pic , just take it , he can always make your legs shake, he can't control himself around you , they don't call him horseface for nothin
reiner : all those muscles won't stop him from being such a pathetic boy, sitting in his lap always ends up like this, he loves eating your pussy, fucking you on his desk, fucking his cum back into you, he promised he'd make it fit, who knew such a big man could be so whiny? shh its okay, he's got you
connie : he loves thrusting in your mouth like this , he loves when you use his cock like this, you're so pretty with a mouthful of his cock, you never knew connie could fuck you like this, he can go so deep like this, prone bone with connie, this is why he loves when you come over, you wore his favorite thong
levi : "even when you're like this, there's no reason for you to be sloppy." , slow easy morning sex, ask nicely and you might get what you want, this is what happens when you can't stop squirming, hands behind your back, you just couldn't wait until the two of you got home, could you? standing sex, cuddle fuck!
erwin : you disrupted him while he was at the office, feel each and every one of his thrusts, it's okay he knows you can take it, fucking you in front of the mirror, he didn't say turn around, did he?, one of his favorite ways to stretch you out, maybe this will make you listen to him next time, how you welcome home your commander after a long day
a/n : i literally got sick a day after my bday pls accept this while i nurse myself back to health </3
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: the road you swore you’d never take again leads you back to steve, right back to your hometown. it always leads to him.
★ pairing: ex!fiance!steve harrington x reader
★ warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, angst, arguments, jealousy, illusions to cheating but none actually, toxic relationship traits (just as a treat) ,car sex, semi public sex, unprotected sex, p in v, oral, rough sex, breeding kink, size kink, dirty mouth steve harrington, CANON big dick steve harrington
★ word count: 13.8k
★ notes: we are a week behind. no we’re two weeks behind 😁 pretend it’s christmas!!! find my steve masterlist here!
The Holidays rolling around always left a bad taste in your mouth, the subtle shift in the seasons trudging up memories you’d rather leave dead and buried. Instead, the moment the air chilled and the leaves began to fall, you were thrown back into the highlight reel of the best times of your life that now hurt with every breath you took. He still haunted your once-shared apartment; the city echoed his name wherever you turned. Even when he moved back home, you couldn’t face it. Avoiding spots you frequented together was easy. You could lose yourself in the city lights. Going back to your small hometown, you shared with him?
Not easy, not in the slightest. Small towns chewed you up and left you for dead. Everyone would associate you with him, and the risk of seeing each other was the highest it’s ever been. Your friend groups overlapped, all of them no doubt hating your guts. You could see it now, their faux empathetic looks, the glares of disgust being sent your way. The girl who dragged her fiancé to a big city, only to leave him in the dust behind her, unknowingly.
This was all you could dread while standing on your childhood home’s front porch step for the first time in a year. You tried not to think about a year ago when your left hand was heavier and your smile wider. Instead, you mustered up a pathetic smile, welcoming your family with open arms. Praying to drop the topic that was your personal life, which surely wouldn’t last as long as you’d hope.
The first crack came at dinner that night, your mother pulled out all the stops, a roasted chicken with all the sides. Before you could finish your plate, she cleared her throat loudly.
“I don’t wanna say much. But you need to know that I saw Steve at the grocery store the other day with all those kids. His parents left town again, so he’s all alone in that big house.” If she saw you flinch at the sound of his name, she didn’t address it.
“Thanks for the heads up. And the pity party attempt, mom.” You managed to get out, dropping your fork. Your appetite now undoubtedly ruined.
A few moments of silence passed before Mom took that as an opportunity to keep going. “You know they’re still family to you. They’d love to see you. I’m still planning on bringing them a pie. It just wouldn’t be Christmas without-”
“Mom, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t.” You snapped, pulling the chair out more dramatically than you should have.
“Y/m/n.” Your father sighed, pleading with his eyes for you to stay. “Let’s change the subject, shall we? How’s work been?”
Thankful for his diversion, you managed to get out some basics about work. The simple generic small talk. The only thing you could stomach. You just had to get through the next week, and everything would be fine. Right?
Word of your arrival in town spread like wildfire; you knew it would the moment someone drove past your parents' house and saw your car out front. The first person to call came as a surprise, your mother holding out the kitchen phone for you. None other than Robin on the line. The last time you spoke to her, you were choking back sobs, screaming at her to tell you where Steve had gone.
The night your life fell apart in front of your eyes was nearly 6 months ago. After 8 months of an engagement, the two of you decided to move, Chicago, calling your name. A fresh start, not too far from home. A place away from the expectations that lingered above his head, the ghosts that haunted underneath the town. You told yourself it was just stress from the move, stress from Steve having a hard time finding a job he loved. You convinced yourself that the distance that had grown between you two was normal. Wedding planning had been put on hold, simply trying to get through each day at a time. You weren’t in the city for 2 months before it came crashing down in front of your eyes.
It was a normal day, until it wasn’t. You came home from work, your home absent of the joy it used to bring. In the same kitchen he used to pick you up and spin you around in, he sat against the table. Illuminated by nothing but the city lights peering in through the window. Your keys hitting the bowl on the counter echoed through the still house.
“I can’t do this anymore.” He said, no pleasantries, no welcome home. Five words that tore open your chest, leaving you gasping for air.
“What?” You laughed because what else was there for you to do? Shock had taken over your body, feet glued to the spot. Overcoat still on, work bag dangling from your arm.
“This. Us.” He spoke through clenched teeth, tears staining his cheeks. “I can’t keep sitting in this apartment day in and day out, alone. Contributing nothing. You’re gonna end up hating me. If you don’t already.”
The bag slipped from your arm with a heavy thud. Rushing over to him, standing across from the table. “What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?”
“It’s been coming for a while, Y/n. We both keep dancing around it. I see it, you’re stressed out, pretending you’re not carrying me behind you like deadweight,” He sniffled, “I’m a fuck up, an embarrassment. Everything my dad said, I would be.”
You reached for him with shaky hands, knees falling to the floor beside him. Pulling yourself into his lap, holding his hands in yours. “Stop, stop.” You demanded, “I have never seen you like that. Ever. Steve, your father is an abusive piece of shit. Who cares what he thinks? It’s only been a few months; it’s going to take time. Everything is going to work out. I keep telling you that, and I believe it.”
“I see myself like that, and I can’t unsee it. Day in and day out, I’m here in this city, alone.” He shook his head, barely responding to your begging him to look at you, to hold you back. To pretend he wasn’t okay with all that you built to slip through his fingers. “Yeah, we were bored at home, but this is the alternative? Being alone in a city that doesn’t care if I exist.”
You scoffed. “We didn’t leave because we were bored. We left because we deserved better. Because after everything you’ve been through, after everything we’ve been through, we earned a fresh start.”
“And what if this fresh start is killing me?” He laughed, a horrible, dry laugh from the depths of his chest. His body rattles against your hands.
Your breath stutters. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.” He admitted, the air around you two changing. Your hands slipped from his, still sitting back on your knees in front of him. He still barely looked at you, content to stare at the wood grain on the table. Committing the pattern to memory.
“So what, you want to move home?” You asked, the walls still smelled like fresh paint. The cardboard boxes you two procrastinated on throwing out lingered in the guest room. There hadn’t been enough time to make it home, the training wheels were still on.
“We can..” You sighed, rubbing your face. “We can maybe sublet the lease until it’s over. I don’t know. We have to see if there are even any places for us to rent back home.”
He turned in his seat, his eyes finally meeting yours. You could see his heart breaking on his face, and you knew. Something bone-chilling washed over you, nearly forcing your body flat on the floor.
“You don’t mean us, do you?” You managed out, tears already welling in your eyes.
His head shook, moving towards you. Joining you, knees aching on the floor you once rolled around in joy on.
“I love you,” he says, voice breaking. “I promise I do. This isn’t me walking away because I stopped loving you.” His hands gripped yours for a second before you yanked them away.
“Then don’t do this. If you love me, don’t leave me.” You sobbed, “If you loved me, you’d stay, or let me come with. I don’t care where we are; I want you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
He reached for you again, his touch burning your skin.
“I have to,” he whispers. “Because I can feel myself holding you back. You deserve the chance to love this city the way you’ve always wanted to. I don’t belong here. I know I don’t. But you do. I’m not cut out for this life. Not this place, not this constant fight to prove I’m worth something. But you are. You shine here. And if I stay, all I’ll do is make you smaller so I don’t feel so lost.”
“So you go back alone,” you said, incredulous. “Back to the same streets, the same expectations from your father, the same ghosts?”
He gestured helplessly at the room, at the life you’d hauled here with too much hope and not enough certainty. “Better that than I stay here, pretending I belong.”
“You’re really going to throw this away?” You asked, tears streaming down your neck. “You’re going to throw away all the years between us because you won’t give it a few more weeks?”
“I can’t give you the life you deserve here.”
Your chest aches. “I don’t want this without you.” His thumb rubbed over the ring on your finger, a choked sob escaping your chest. You remembered the day he proposed, the reminder of the happiest day of your life turning bittersweet in a matter of minutes.
“I know,” he says, his own tears falling freely now. “And that’s why I have to let you go before I turn into something you resent.”
You sniffled, “If you walk out of that door, Steve Harrington, I will resent you. I’ll never forgive you for giving up on us, for walking out like a coward.”
He flinched at your words, understanding he deserved it. “Don’t think I’m giving up on us for nothing, I’m doing this for you.”
Then his hand falls, the space between you unbearable, a chasm building between the two of you.
“No,” You shook your head, a laugh tearing out of you like a mad woman. “You’re doing it because you’re scared. You let your father’s words get in your head, now you’re letting them ruin your life.”
“You don’t understand, and that’s okay.” He gave you a weak smile, standing up slowly. “But I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone before.”
“Bullshit.” You sprang to your feet, pushing his chest. He didn’t move, just stood there taking whatever you’d give him. “You can’t say you love me while you’re actively leaving me. You just don’t wanna marry me anymore? A few rough months and you’re tapping out? That’s not how the real world works.”
“You’re not listening to me,” He seethed, “I am miserable here! I miss my friends; I am alone here with no one but you. If I go home, I have a job with my dad, and you can still live out your dreams.”
“My dreams mean nothing if you’re not here.” You yelled, pushing him roughly again. His hands come out to grip your wrists. “You’re not even fighting for us. You’ve given up.”
The realization hit you like a freight train, stumbling on your feet. “You’ve given up.”
“Y/n..”
“Out.” You sobbed, taking a shaky step back. “You want to leave so bad? Get the fuck out. Run back home to the people who thought you couldn’t do it. Prove them right. End up just like your fucking father. If you want to live and die in that town, don’t let me stop you.”
He knew rationally your words were just your heart breaking, and it tore him apart knowing he was the one doing it. You’d move on, he knew you would eventually. He just wanted you to have the life here you deserved, the one you’d keep him up all night daydreaming about. It just wasn’t going to be with him. So he resigned and walked into the room, grabbing his bags. All you could do was stand there, shell-shocked. Tears streaming down your cheeks. You ignored his goodbyes, waited until the door locked behind him to throw yourself on the floor. Screaming until your voice went hoarse. The next morning, you called Robin, begging her to tell you where he was. She said it was best she remove herself from this, wishing you well. All it took was one conversation, one bad night, and your entire life had crumbled right before your eyes.
Now, as you stood there lost in the memory, you snapped back, hearing her voice on the other end of the line.
“Hello.” She asked, making you blink.
“Hi?”
“Y/n,” Her voice rang out, too cheery. “It’s good to hear your voice. I’m glad you’re home.”
It was awkward, a painful awkwardness that sat in the middle of your chest. Your best friend, the girl you used to tell everything, was now someone you could barely have a normal conversation with.
“Yeah, you too.” You mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m not trying to be mean, but did you need something?”
She paused for a moment, “Uh, yeah. I just wanted to invite you to our Christmas party tomorrow. It wouldn’t be the same without you. We miss you.”
The honesty in her voice made your heart ache, but you couldn’t. “I don’t think that’s a great idea, Robin-”
“Steve said it’s fine.” She yelled, and you could hear mumblings in the background. “You don’t have to stay for long, just get some food. The kids really miss you, and so do I, Y/n. We miss our friend.”
You sighed, running your hand through your hair. “I don’t know.”
“Just, Steve’s house tomorrow at 7. Don’t worry about bringing anything. If you don’t come, that’s fine too, just…. Think about it.”
“Okay.” You said, before hanging up the phone. Your forehead banging the wall harshly.
The next 24 hours were spent pacing around your childhood bedroom, nearly burning a hole in the carpet. You could go and be social, see your friends. Fill the gap in your heart that formed the moment you last heard from them. If they hated you, they wouldn’t have invited you. Robin didn’t have a cruel bone in her body. But if you did go and walk into the Harrington household again, you weren’t sure if your heart could take it. It was naive to believe you could come here and not have a run-in with the man, but you didn’t prepare yourself enough for this.
On one of your last paces, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The same mirror you got ready in for your first date with Steve, which felt like a lifetime ago. The mirror you cleaned both of your bloody faces in after the Starcourt Mall fiasco. You let yourself linger on your appearance, no longer recognizing the girl who stared back at you.
“Fuck it.” You grumbled, your voice echoing throughout the empty room. You plopped down, dragging over your makeup bag. You would go, but you wouldn’t be happy about it. Your hands shook the whole time, nearly covering your chin in lipstick. They continued shaking as you drove to the store, picking out the most expensive bottle of wine the Hawkin’s supermarket had. The feeling only got worse when you pulled into the driveway. A black cloud dangling above your head.
The Harrington house was always extravagant, but dull. Lifeless in the way his parents decorated, only brought to life by the love Steve himself made. Today, it looked the opposite of that, with lights lazily strung up on the porch. The soft, warm glow of a Christmas tree peeking in through the front window. You thought back to your own home, where the tree sat untouched in a box in the spare room. What good was decorating if no one was around to see it but you?
You weren’t willing to admit it to anyone, but Chicago was lonely. Steve had it all wrong those months ago; you were only thriving because he was there with you. You were so focused on providing a future for you two that you let him slip through the cracks. The city was big, big enough to hide your sorrows. But what was the point if the city didn’t care if you were there? You hated that he was right, you hated that things happened the way that they did.
Once you had had enough of licking your own wounds, you tumbled out of the car. The wind was biting, soft snow still falling. You made a point not to look at Steve’s car on the way up the drive; you knew that BMW like the back of your hand. No point in ripping off another bandage. When you were face-to-face with the door, you clutched the wine like a lifeline, telling yourself you still had time to run. No one would even know you were here if you spun your tires fast enough.
All of your daydreaming of running away vanished when the door swung open, your hand still up, going to knock on the wooden door. “Y/n?” Max spoke, her eyes wide.
Maybe you should have called, maybe you should have told Robin you were coming. Maybe Robin lied, maybe she didn’t tell anyone you were invited. Maybe you weren’t invited, and Robin was meddling again.
All these fears vanished when Max basically leaped into your arms, wrapping them around your body tightly. You smiled in a way you haven’t in months, cheeks aching from the foreign movement.
“Max.” You breathed out, squeezing the redhead back with just as much vigor.
“Holy shit,” She laughed, her face still smushed in your trench coat, “I didn’t think you’d come. I missed you.”
“I missed you more, kiddo.” The wine bottle nearly fell from your hand when she pulled back. You kept your gaze on her; she had grown so much since the last time you saw her. “God, you’re like a proper adult now, huh?”
She rolled her eyes, taking the wine from your hand gently, “Not old enough to legally drink yet, but Steve said we can get a glass at dinner if we don’t break anything.”
For the first time in months, you didn’t flinch at the mention of his name, too overwhelmed with emotion to even care. “That sounds like him.”
You stepped forward, wrapping your arms around her once more, kissing the top of her head. “I’m so sorry.” It was a quiet admission, one for her only. When everything happened, Max quickly grew to be the little sister you never had. It wasn’t fair for you not to reach out as much, but she was in college now. She had a life outside of Hawkins, just like you; she understood more than most.
“Don’t do that.” She shook her head, “All that matters is that you’re here now.”
You opened your mouth to speak, only to get cut off by a loud squeal of your name. Your head shot up, peering into the house. Within seconds, a hurricane of overgrown teenagers were barreling towards the door. Dustin’s mop of curls was the first to appear out of the doorway, nearly pushing Max aside as he leaped into your arms.
“Jesus assholes!” Max barked, the boys ignoring her as they crowded around you.
Lucas flanked your side, Mike towering over the group, El behind him, while Dustin was squeezing the life out of you.
“You smell good,” Dustin mumbled, making you roll your eyes.
“Thank god you’re here,” Lucas breathed out, “Max has been nonstop talking about you-” He was cut off, no doubt, by a smack from the woman herself.
Mike was rambling on about needing to ask you questions about school, something about wanting to intern at your job.
El had snuck up, her hands tugging at the ends of your hair. “You cut it?” She had a soft frown.
“I think it looks good!” Will spoke up, his arms wrapping around your side.
You were lost in a fit of giggles, doing your best to keep up with all the overlapping voices.
“Jesus, don’t overwhelm her!” Robin had now joined the party on the porch, her hands on her hips. That didn’t stop the kids from talking over each other; they eventually backed off a hair. Giving you time to hug each of them individually.
“Seriously, you smell really good, you look like some rich lawyer.” Dustin rambled, making Mike smack him upside the head.
“Jesus, you’re flirting with her?” He scoffed, “She works in publishing, by the way. Which is why I need to talk to her-”
“I’m not flirting, dude, that would be against bro code-”
You ignored them, wrapping your arms around El, almost picking her up off her feet. “Oh my sweet girl.”
“Y/n, I only spied on you a few times.” She smiled, making you sputter out laughter.
“Jesus, okay. You’re lucky I love you, or I’d have a stern talking to you about boundaries.” You shook your head, the smile hurting your cheeks now.
“Don’t worry, it was only because we were worried. Steve never knew.” Will spoke up, making you wrap your arm around the younger boy.
“Sorry, I worried you guys, really.” You spoke, looking around all of them. Letting your eyes land on Robin. Her hair was longer, and she seemed more sure of herself. More carefree than you remember her.
As if sensing the long-awaited reunion, they slowly shuffled back into the house. Leaving you and Robin alone for a moment.
“Robs.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
“Y/n.” She smiled, tears welling up in her eyes. You weren’t sure who ran to whom first, but the next thing you knew, the two of you were in each other’s arms. Squeezing so tight you could barely breathe, your head was in her neck. Willing the tears not to slip out of your lash line.
“I missed you.” You choked out, her hand gripping the back of your coat like you’d vanish if she let go.
“Missed you more.” She sobbed, her back shaking. “God, I have so much to tell you. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I picked a side. I promised I’d never do that, but I did anyway. Then I waited too long, and I figured you hated me-”
“I figured you hated me.” A throaty laugh left your chest. Eyes thick with unshed tears.
She shook her head, pulling her head back to get a look at you. “I could never hate you. You’re my best friend. I’ll admit I haven’t been the best one lately, but if you’ll still have me…”
“Robin Buckley…” You sighed, a toothy grin on your face. “I’ll have you. You’re never getting rid of me. Not really.”
“I do hate to cut this reunion short, but I’m freezing my ass off out here.” She said, making you throw your head back in a giggle. She looped her arms with yours, pulling you into the warm house. She helped you hang your coat up, giving the same one over everyone had.
“Dustin was right, you do look like a hot lawyer.” She whistled, making you roll your eyes.
“Please,” You scoffed, “Look at you? I know the girls at Smith are just dying for a piece of you.”
“Well doesn’t matter if they are; Vickie and I are finally going steady.” She grinned, you smacking her shoulder.
“Oh my god? Robin, that’s so awesome.”
“I’ll introduce you when I find her. I think she’s helping in the kitchen. Or in the cellar? I don’t know she’s been nervously running around preparing for today.”
You nodded, awkwardly following behind her into the living room. Nothing had changed in the house, but everything did at the same time. It was evident his parents hadn't been here in a while; it felt lived in. Warm and inviting, a stark contrast to how it was years ago.
Max caught your eye in the kitchen, putting the wine bottle you brought in the ice bucket. You spotted Steve behind her, with his back turned. You darted your eyes away, walking over to the couch where the party was draped over it. A video game console was plugged in, abandoned as they chatted amongst each other. You could only avoid him for so long, but you were going to prolong the inevitable as much as you could.
“So,” You started, plopping on the couch between Lucas and Will. “Tell me what I’ve missed.”
And missed a lot you had. You listened intently as they all told you about their freshman year in school, thankful for the break. Dustin was already a semester ahead at Princeton, go figure. Will and Jonathan had settled down in NYC. Jonathan, you learned, was not visiting until Christmas Day. Too many obligations and not enough time to travel. But his mom and Hopper would be here tomorrow to begin more holiday festivities.
Lucas and Max had just signed a lease on an apartment near Indiana State. Lucas made the basketball team, already gaining traction with recruiters. Mike was a year behind, letting El catch up with her schooling before they went to school near Montauk. Keeping Hopper and Joyce close. In the meantime, he picked up a passion for writing, no doubt why he was asking for pointers on publishing.
“I barely finished my degree, Wheeler.” You admitted, doing school while the world was ending wasn’t ideal, but you made it work. Fresh out of college into the real world, you were still finding your bearings. “But I do have some work friends, I can get some numbers.”
He seemed content with the answer, slinging his arm over your shoulder in a hug once more. It was then that the inevitable happened: Steve Harrington finally sauntered out of the kitchen. His eyes found yours in almost an instant, the room going still.
He looked panicked, his footfalls freezing. You were sure you looked the same, frozen in shock. Your hands fumbling around with your bracelets, something to occupy your shaky hands. Nearly everyone looked away, glancing at each other with nervous eyes. Unwilling to watch the trainwreck unfold. Steve took the first step, his hand coming up in an awkward wave.
“H-hey! Glad you could make it.” He stuttered out, nearly stumbling into the back of the couch. “Thanks for the wine. Do you want a glass?” He spoke too loudly, making Robin wince from behind him. It reminded her of his Scoops Ahoy days, talking too loudly when he was nervous. You stood up on shaky legs, the blood rushing to your head nearly making you dizzy.
“Yeah, I can get it though-”
“No!” He yelled, before running his hands through his hair, “No, I mean. You’re the guest. I can get it.” He was nervous, but in a way that had a pit forming in your stomach.
“It’s okay.” You spoke softly, a tone that used to be reserved for just him. “I’ll get me and Robin a glass. You can’t uncork it right anyway.”
Your words triggered a memory for both of you, one of you catching Steve shoving kitchen scissors into a half-broken cork, in an attempt to pour you a glass for dinner. He ended up pushing it further into the bottle. By the time you got it out, small pieces were floating around in your glass. You drank it anyway, straining out the small pieces with a grin on your face. Except this time, instead of the memory making you laugh, it made your heart stutter.
“Y-yeah.” He grumbled, watching you walk past him with an awkward grin. The moment you set foot into the kitchen, you were taken aback by none other than Nancy Wheeler. She was standing against the stove, stirring a pot.
“Hey?” You spoke, which sounded more like a question.
She jumped, startled by your presence. “Oh, Y/n. Hi.” She gave you a wave, her eyes wide. You and Nancy were never particularly close; you weren’t the biggest fan of how she treated Steve in high school, but you had a lot of respect for the woman. You always considered her a good friend, but something about her standing in Steve’s kitchen made you regret ever coming tonight.
“Nancy. How have you been?” You smiled, grabbing two wine glasses out of the cupboard, muscle memory taking over. But the cabinets had been moved around, you squinted. Before you could lean your head back to ask, Nancy was pointing at the cabinet next to it.
“Wine glasses are in that one,” She spoke absentmindedly, unaware of your spiraling thoughts. “And I’ve been good! Boston is… nice.”
You smacked your lips against your teeth, pulling out two glasses. Grabbing the corkscrew from the drawer. “That’s nice!” Your voice was a little too cheery when you uncorked the bottle, pouring yourself a larger glass than you needed.
“How’s Chicago?” She asked, moving to check whatever bird was roasting in the oven. It was clear she wasn’t interested in awkward small talk, but you appreciated her attempt at it nonetheless.
“Cold.” You gulped your glass, filling it up before setting it back in the ice. “Loud.”
“Yeah,” She laughed, “Sometimes you forget how nice the quiet is until you’re back home. You really can get lost in the city life.”
“Yeah.” You smiled at her, asking her if she would like a glass. She declined, but thanked you anyway. “Well, it’s been so good to see you.”
Thankfully, you found Robin, shoving the wine into her hands. “Think Nancy Wheeler hates me?” You asked quietly, Robin’s demeanor going taut.
She shook her head, taking a drink from her glass. That was all the answer you got from her before she pulled you back into the crowd. You mingled about, still not having caught a chance to meet Vickie. When Robin ran off to find her, you clung to Max’s side like following the light in the dark. You weren’t going to let her slip out of your life again; you weren’t going to let any of them. It was easy to avoid Steve, as he seemed content to step awkwardly around you most of the night.
The tension was unspoken, but everyone felt it. It hangs heavy, just like the mistletoe in the bedroom hallway that mocked you each time someone came out of the bathroom. Memories of the two of you haunted every corner of this town, but this was the epicenter. The home that the two of you shared for months, the party that called you their parents. The house that would be yours the moment his parents decided to finally buy their beach house in Florida.
Maybe this would be easier if you pretended Steve hadn’t branded every part of your body. The tan line from the diamond that sat on your finger for almost a year wouldn’t fade, no matter how much you scrubbed. You both spent too much time in the sun last summer, lounging around the lakeside for days on end. Your hair, he loved, had been cut off, your hairstylist swearing hair held memories. With each snip, you willed Steve to leave your mind, but you instead just found yourself missing the parts of yourself he held in his hands. No matter how many times you changed your style or willed yourself to be anyone else. At the end of the day, you were always going to be his. There was a part of you that would never belong to yourself again.
You turned to your left, and the redhead whom you thought was Max was now replaced by Vickie. The infamous girlfriend who had been running around all night, missing Robin at every turn. You smiled politely, “Vickie, right? Robin’s been looking for you.”
She smiled widely, teeth showing at the mere mention of her girlfriend. “Yes! I was helping with the chicken, then the stuffing, then I had to go in the cellar for wine, but it’s so dark down there, and I’ve just been running around everywhere.” She was out of breath, nervousness rolling off of her. You could see now in startling clarity just how alike she and Robin were.
“No, it’s okay. I’m fully convinced that the cellar is haunted.” You laughed, making her nod quickly.
“Literally! Also, I’m not used to rich people, because why do you need a cellar full of wine in your house? It’s beyond me.” She whispered the first part, making another laugh slip through your lips. That laugh was cut short when your eyes glanced into the kitchen yet again. This time, catching Steve towering over Nancy. His body was nearly caging hers against the counter, his hand steady on the cabinet above her head. It was clear he meant to grab something out of it, but the two of them paused. Caught in the moment. Now you were caught in it too, staring like a fish out of water.
It felt like you were intruding on an intimate moment, the way his eyes gazed down at her. Flicking back from her lips to her eyes. She did the same; it was buzzy. Even from far away, the tension between them radiated around the room, hitting you right in the chest.
“I heard him and Nancy have been close ever since she came back,” Vickie smiled widely, somehow completely oblivious as to who you were. But she caught you staring quickly. It wasn’t her fault; you hadn’t been here when they started dating. Just through the tail end of Robin’s pining. “He moved back home after he broke off his engagement. Real hallmark, you know? Holiday rekindling of old flames that never quite snuffed out, it’s sooooo romantic. Kinda like me and Robin if you think about it. High school lovers-”
Her words made the wine you drank nearly come back up your throat, your eyes still locked on the pair. Tuning out her rambling, you let yourself look at him this time, really look. Steve looked the same, his hair a little longer. Undeniably, there was a spark lit back within him, one you had missed. A wide smile on Nancy’s face as they talked, his head leaned down to hear her better. If he moved down any closer, their lips would be touching. The sheer thought of you having to witness that made you look away, swallowing down bile that had risen.
You supposed it’d make sense for him to move on; it had been months. Nothing was stopping either of you, but something about seeing it. About it being with Nancy, out of everyone. The same girl you’d compare yourself to late at night, the girl Steve swore he’d moved on from. It felt like someone had grabbed a knife and split your chest open.
“Yeah, sure.” You managed, catching Robin’s eye as she walked over. She paused midwalk, staring from Vickie to you, back to Steve and Nancy across the way.
“Oh fuck.” She said a little too loudly, all heads looking towards you all. Steve’s head pops up immediately, his eyes meeting yours. You knew this was a bad idea, a horrible, terribly bad idea. His body moved away from Nancy’s on instinct, but it was too late. Not like it mattered, not like anything mattered anymore.
“Oh my god. You’re Y/n, aren’t you?” Vickie gasped, her hand coming up to grab your shoulder. “I’m so sorry. This is so not how I wanted to meet you, Robin told me to be on my best behavior-”
You cut her off with a wave, “It’s fine. It was really nice to meet you.” You gave her a practiced smile, stepping away from the wide-eyed ginger. “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom.”
Your heels clacked against the floor loudly in the now quiet room, excusing yourself. You chugged down the rest of your glass, setting it on the table before stumbling into the bathroom. Your hand clenching your chest, searching for an open wound that wasn’t physically there.
You leaned against the door, nearly falling to your knees in anguish. It felt childish; you had no claim over him anymore. Time had stretched a chasm between the two of you. But why did it feel like you were being split in two?
You gathered your bearings, letting your hands grip the sides of the sink. Staring back at your reflection in the mirror. “Get over yourself, Y/n.” You all but slapped your own cheeks, psyching yourself up. “It’s fine. Have dinner, then leave. Have Christmas, then go home. You can just leave.”
Within your own psychotic mumblings to yourself, you realized you weren’t any better than Steve, willing yourself to run away the moment things got complicated.
Outside, back in the living room, the tension wasn’t any better. Vickie’s mouth was agape, Robin stumbling to her quickly. Steve was still frozen in place, eyes locked on where you had run to. Nancy simply crossed her arms, shrinking herself into the corner.
“What was that?” Dustin broke the silence, watching Steve slowly regain control of his limbs again.
“Vickie, honey sweetie baby. What did you say?” Robin’s voice was shaky, while Vickie continued stuttering out apologies.
“Um. I just said- I don’t know.” She cried out, “I was just speaking. You know me. I just ramble sometimes, and she was looking at them, so I blurted out something-”
“What did you say exactly?” Steve spoke up, Nancy closing her eyes.
“Uh. I said something along the lines of ‘Wow, aren’t Steve and Nancy so cute? He left his fiancée and is back home with his ex. Like a bad Hallmark movie p-plot.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, everyone in the room winced, “Vickie, sweetheart. Why would you say that?” Robin’s eyes closed.
“I don’t know,” Tears were in the nervous girl's eyes, “I’m so sorry. It’s not my business. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Yeah, it’s not.” Steve barked, a little too cruelly for Robin’s liking.
“Hey, it was an accident.” She glared at her best friend, “Don’t blame her for misspeaking when you don’t even know what’s going on in your own life.”
Steve’s face fell, hating his business on display like this.
“Wait,” Mike raised his hand, much like a child asking a question in class. “Are you and Nancy back together?”
“No.” Steve and Nancy both scoffed in unison, the girl still trying to hide herself in the kitchen.
“You guys have just been weirdly close,” he muttered, throwing his hands up in defense.
“Okay, can everyone please get out of my business. Jeez.” Steve said, finally, holding his hands up. “Vickie, I’m sorry. Don’t feel bad. Besides, it doesn’t matter. We’re all adults here.”
“Barely.” You spoke up, your voice making all of them jump. In the midst of the chaos, they didn’t even notice you slinking your way out of the bathroom. Posture upright, as if nothing had bothered you. A part of Steve hated how unbothered you looked, your lack of emotion sat heavily on his mind.
“W-what?” He stuttered, looking at you.
“You guys are barely adults.” You laughed, it was hollow. It didn’t quite reach your eyes, but no one noticed except for him anyway. “Jeez, who died?”
“No one!” Nancy spoke up, opening the oven a little faster than she needed to. “Chicken’s done, can you guys set the table?”
There was a mad dash around the room, everyone wanting to find something to occupy themselves. You found Vickie, wrapping your arms around the still trembling girl, promising her everything was okay. As soon as she steadied her breathing, Robin brought the two of you fresh glasses. You found a spot at the table between the couple and Max. You felt old helping Max pour herself a glass of wine.
“You kids grow up fast.” You grumbled, sliding over the full glass to her. “Let me guess, everyone else wants one too?”
A chorus of ‘yes mom’s’ made you chuckle, a flashback to just a year ago getting called mom at this same table. The bottle was emptied on Dustin’s glass, to which he gave you a playful wink, making your eyes roll.
“How many girls are you wooing back at Princeton with that charm, huh?” You teased, sitting back down in your chair.
“Oh, the ladies love me. I’m irresistible.” He purred, making the others groan playfully at him while sides got passed around. Everyone loaded up their plates, eating amongst quiet conversation.
“God, Y/n, do you remember Tommy and Carol?” Robin asked, in between bites of a roll.
You scoffed, “Unfortunately.”
“They’re getting married. Steve got the invite last week. Twenty bucks says it’s a shotgun wedding.” She laughed.
“Wait, what?” You gasped, “I didn’t even know they were back together?”
“Yup, Tommy proposed on the football field,” Steve added, slowly joining in the conversation. “Think he’s trying to be a good person.”
Robin just cringed, “Proposing on your high school football field to the girlfriend you consistently cheat on?”
“I hate the guy, but at least he’s trying.” Nancy shrugged, not meeting anyone's eyes.
“But that’s total loser behavior.” Max joined in, “If Lucas proposed to me on the basketball court, I think I’d break his ankles so he could never play again.”
Lucas just sighed, “And that’s why I love you so much.”
“I think my dad did a good job proposing to Miss Joyce,” El spoke up with a smile. You remember hearing the news of that, tears prickling in your eyes as Joyce recounted the date he had set up.
“Honestly, that was probably the best proposal to ever happen. Hard to top that.” You raised your glass. While it was honest, a simple nod to the two older parental figures in your life. It didn’t sit right with Steve, the words on the tip of his tongue.
“I think my proposal was pretty good.” He grumbled into his plate, staring intently at the piece of chicken on his fork.
How many times tonight were his words going to pause the room around him? An awkward silence fell once again, the tension rising from the floorboards. One you couldn’t blame on the haunted cellar below your feet. You downed yet another glass of wine. When the clink of the glass hit the table, you realized you shouldn’t have spoken, shouldn't have had that last glass.
And El. Poor innocent sweet El Hopper just kept speaking, “How did you propose?”
You forgot she wasn’t there, still being hidden away by Hopper in the Cabin during all the endless crawls. Murray had apparently spent weeks searching for the exact ring Steve wanted for you. Smuggling it inside an unsealed peanut butter bopper. The ring smelled like peanut butter for days after he slid it on your finger. It fit like a glove. You still felt empty without it, your hand subconsciously going to twirl the delicate band that was no longer there.
Steve’s mouth fell open, his eyes darting to yours. You saved him from the awkward stumbling, giving her the softest smile you could muster. “It was sweet. He took me on a picnic to where we had our first date. Had candles. Robin made us a cake.”
You tried not to let it show just how badly the memories hurt, instead smiling fondly at the table. There was no attempt at hiding your history together here; it bled into every memory. Being together with someone for years will do that to you; your lives are so interconnected that sometimes it is still hard to remember where he ends, and you begin.
“I spilled wine all over her dress, and a bird ate the sandwiches I made while I was proposing.” Steve added, “It was a mess.”
“It was perfect.” You shrugged, leaning over to grab another roll from the bowl. “So Mike, when are you proposing?”
His eyes widen, and he stutters out a pathetic response. Max and El are giggling wildly at each other. Steve hated how well you were at changing the topic, deflecting the attention off of you two so smoothly. Hated how well the two of you worked in unison, in everything you did.
Dinner continued without another awkwardly timed comment, plates clattered as everyone took turns helping clean up. Dessert was cookies Vickie had made, the kids no doubt getting crumbles all over Steve’s overpriced couch. An hour of goodbyes later and the teenagers had scrambled back to their homes. Nancy left with Mike, giving you an awkward one-armed hug. You had all promised to see each other again before the break ended. Whispers of a New Year's Party, but nothing concrete.
All while Steve’s gaze was burning into your back, watching your every move. It made your collar slick with sweat, your hands trembling with bundles of emotions. You needed air and a cigarette. Your effort to sneak out was thwarted by none other than Robin.
“Leaving without a goodbye, Y/l/n?” Robin caught you, your hand still on the doorknob.
“I know better than to Irish exit with you people, I’m just getting some air.” You promised her, two fingers came up to her eyes, pointing them back at you, signaling she was watching. You laughed on your way out, letting the cool air chill your skin.
You walked out to his garage, leaning under the awning. To get away from the porch and prying eyes in the windows. You let your hands shake freely, dropping the nonchalant facade you held up for the past few hours. Letting that sickly sour feeling wash over you again. It was jealousy, anger, sadness, and something else you couldn’t quite place all wrapped around you at once. It was drowning in your own feelings, begging for one drop of air.
“So, about what you heard in there. With Nancy.” That was all he said, the back of your eyes prickling. You didn’t even hear him step outside, let alone stand beside you. You told yourself the tears were just from the cold air, but you knew better.
“If I wanted to know, I would have asked.” You shrugged, “None of my business anyway, is it?”
“It’s not what it looks like.” He pleaded.
All you could do was laugh, rummaging around in your purse for your cigarettes. A habit you picked back up again, the day after he left. You shoved the filter between your red painted lips, lighting it with ease. All while he stood and watched, eyebrows furrowed.
“So it doesn’t look like you dumped me to come back home and fuck your high school ex?” You couldn’t help but let the words slip off your tongue. There it was, the anger of yours he had become familiar with. He knew it was there, boiling just under the surface.
He sighed, “Nancy is still with Jonathan, you know. We’re just… friends.”
“You seem real sure of that.” You scoffed, letting the smoke wrap around you like a security blanket. “Besides, doesn’t matter, does it? You’re single. You can do whatever you want.”
He deflated, letting his hand rest on the porch. “Yeah. Guess so.”
The silence was deafening, the snow still flurrying around the two of you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. In just the past few months, you’ve changed so much. Your hair was shorter, and your eye bags were evident. A hallowness was deep inside you, and the light drained from your eyes. And it was all his fault; he knew that. He watched your hand flick the cigarette, the absence of the gleaming diamond on your finger making his breathing stop.
It didn’t even occur to him until now that this was the first time he’d seen you since he left. You were on his mind so often that it was as if he conjured up a new image of you every time his eyes opened in the morning.
The guilt pressed down on his chest, thick and suffocating, and the silence between you stretched too long. Long enough for old wounds to start itching. Long enough for that anger to claw its way up your throat, hot and familiar. You’d learned how to survive by holding onto it, how to use it to pull yourself out of the days where feeling nothing felt worse.
“I wish you’d just tell me what you were really thinking.” He spoke up, his eyes drilling holes into the side of your face.
You held onto tighter to the anger, the feeling comfortable in your hands. You’d rather feel angry than nothing else at all. So the insults began to slip out. If he was going to walk away and leave you again, you were going to make sure it was on your terms this time.
“Okay, do you really wanna know Mr. Peaked in high school?” You could barely believe the cruelty in your voice when you spat out the words, “I think you couldn’t make it in the big city. So to fuel your ego, you had to go home to our piss ant hometown and try to fuck your high school ex-girlfriend, right? Right back where you were in High School. Welcome back, King Steve!”
He stuttered back a few steps, recovering quickly from the whiplash.
“At least I’m not pretending to be happy. How is it up there on your high-horse? Because after this week, you’re going back to that lonely apartment.” He cackled, “Doesn’t matter how much money you make, how nice your clothes are, how much your snotty co-workers like you. You’re all alone out there. And I’ll be here, with my friends.”
The emphasis of my didn’t get lost on you. You suppose he was right; they were his friends first before you ever joined them. His words pierced your heart, nearly knocking you off balance. You thought this was it, but oh, he wasn’t done.
“You can’t make the pain go away by treating me like a villain, Y/n.” He said, his voice softening. “I hurt you. I know I did, and I’m so sorry. I was only doing what I thought was right, for both of us. I was drowning.” His voice cracked on the word. Both of your resolves are crumbling around your feet like drywall.
“We were supposed to drown together.” You snapped, “When you got down on one knee and put that ring on my finger, it was a promise. A promise to love each other through all the hard times, and you couldn’t even try. You just gave up on us. On me.” Your bottom lip wavered, staring down the man you loved more than life itself.
“I was doing what I thought was right-”
“Spare me the fucking bullshit.” You waved him off, “You could’ve sat me down. We could have talked it out like adults; instead, you ran home with your tail between your legs. Letting everyone feel bad for the boy whose fiancée left him in the dust-”
“You don’t know anything.” He laughed dryly, his hands running feverishly through his hair. “When I came home, did you know the first thing everyone said to me? Everyone. Robin, the kids, my parents?”
You stayed quiet, watching his chest heave. “They all said, “How did you ruin the best thing you’ve ever had?” He scoffed.
“You left! That’s how!”
“Remember that you let me leave.”
“What was I supposed to do, Steve?” You were in hysterics now, “Was me on my knees, begging and crying, not enough?”
“You let me leave Y/n.” He repeated, “You changed your number, you stopped talking to everyone. The only thing left for me to do was to drive up there, but I knew you wouldn’t wanna see me.”
“If you loved me, you would've.” You sighed, running your hands over your face. You were sick of the arguing, of the back and forth.
“You could’ve visited too! You ghosted everyone. You didn’t just hurt me with the radio silence. You broke Max’s heart-”
You stepped closer, pressing your finger harshly into his chest. “Leave them out of it.”
“You can’t even be honest with yourself.” He chuckled dryly. Watching you huff down the remnants of the cigarette that now stunk up his clothes.
“You don’t know me.”
“I think I know you better than you know yourself sometimes.”
“My life is different now.” You let out a breath, stomping the cigarette butt underneath your boot. “Don’t pretend you know how I’m doing. Who I’m with. Because you don’t. You don’t know anything about me.”
You knew what your words were implying when you said them, refusing to correct yourself. You wanted to see the hurt flash in his eyes, the same way yours did, seeing him and Nancy in the kitchen. But when the flash came, you couldn’t feel anything but guilt. Something shifted in those brown eyes of his; what started as hurt faded into something darker.
“Is there someone else?” His eyes were ablaze, a darkness in them you hadn’t seen before. You stayed quiet, looking up at him through your lashes. Unable to speak, the closer he got with each step. “Tell me, is there someone else?”
“And if there was?” You challenged, tilting your head at him.
“Answer me.” He demanded softly, still walking towards you like a predator stalking prey. You took a step back, eyes never leaving his until your back from pressing his snow-covered car. He was inches away, still waiting for your answer.
“It’s none of your business.”
“Then why even mention it?” He chuckled darkly, his leg slotting in between yours. You were pushed further back into the car, his body now on yours. Nothing could change the chemistry between you two, not time. God himself couldn’t change the way your bodies drifted towards each other. You were the compass, and he was your true north. You’d always find yourself back here. On your way to him, in this town.
“Does it bother you?” You met his darkened eyes, “Thinking of someone else taking what you left behind?”
“Don’t pretend-”
“Hey-oh whoa.” Robin’s voice broke you two out of your trance. The two of you were springing apart like there was a fire. Vickie’s hand was in hers, both clad in their coats, ready to leave. “Sorry. The snow is really coming down; we wanted to get back before it got any heavier.”
Steve cleared his throat, leaning awkwardly against the hood of the car. “Yeah, course.”
You walked forward, wrapping your arms around the two girls. Bidding them farewell, promising to see them soon. Robin left with a suggestive look towards you, making you flush. You watched her car roll down the road, feeling Steve’s eyes on your back. You don’t know how long you stood there, snow pelting your skin, before he spoke up.
“At least get out of the snow, Y/n.” You turned back, stepping back onto his porch.
“I should probably leave.”
He didn’t say anything, simply walked ahead of you, opening his door. You looked around for your coat, scrambling around. Before you could get your second arm in your sleeve, he broke you out of your rushing trance.
“Does he make you feel like I did?”
You paused, letting the coat fall to the floor. “What?”
He looked pathetic, his inhibitions falling when it was just you he was standing in front of. “Does he make you feel even a fraction of what I made you feel?”
It took you a second to remember the way you avoided his question, letting him believe a false narrative he made up in his own head. It made every nerve in your body set ablaze, the idea of him being jealous. You let yourself fall into the feeling.
“Does Nancy make you feel a fraction of what I made you feel?” You barked back, the tension rising. The two of you were playing with fire now, poking the bear just to see what would happen. This was foreplay, and after months of longing, the two of you were coiled tight.
“So you are jealous,” He grinned devilishly at you.
“You’re one to talk. You’re the one who pinned me to your car, ready to take me right there.”
All he did was stalk closer, “And you liked it, didn’t you?”
You were quiet, letting the air around you thicken. Yes, you liked it. It’s the first thing that got your blood pumping in months, a heat grew between your legs. A long-neglected aspect of your life you hadn’t thought of much until now.
“Yeah, you did.” He said cockily, watching your pupils go wide. Much like his. He knew your bedroom eyes well; he knew you were soaked underneath that satin skirt you had on.
“So what?” Your mouth was dry, meeting him halfway. The two of you are standing in front of the couch.
“Did you miss me? Miss my cock?” His words made goosebumps rise on your skin. You forgot just how filthy his mouth was. You remained quiet, the two of you in a standoff, to see who would break first. Your hands were clenched into fists, shaking wildly.
“I missed your cock but not that mouth.” You regretted your words the moment they came out, because his eyes lit up. He knew he had you right where he wanted you.
He then plopped onto the couch, his legs spread wide. You looked down at him in astonishment, “What-”
“You want it so bad? Come get it.” He patted his lap, the bulge in his khakis prominent.
“You’re such a cocky asshole, you know that?” You seethed, crawling into his lap regardless. Making yourself at home on top of his hips, “Acting like one taste of my pussy wouldn’t have you begging for more.”
“Never said it wouldn’t,” he grinned.
You weren’t sure who moved first, the next thing you knew, teeth were gnashing against skin. Lips pulled together tightly, hands squeezing and scratching wherever they could. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t careful. It was hunger and frustration and longing wrapped up in heat, the kind that burned instead of soothed. It was animalistic. Every kiss felt like a confession, every desperate grab a way of saying what neither of you had managed to put into words.
“Did you fuck her?” You asked with a growl, pulling his head back by the hair on his neck. He let out a grunt at the movement, his eyes snapping to yours. Taking him by surprise at your sudden violence, the green monster tugs at you.
“Bet you wanna know-”
You yanked harder, his neck jerking. “I asked you a question.”
“F-fuck, no. No, I didn’t.” He whined, “She loves Jonathan.”
“Would you have fucked her? If she wanted to?”
“Probably.” The admission was sharp, his eyes pleading with you.
No words could match how you were feeling; instead, you brought your lips to his in a bruising kiss. As if you could will away any memory of her lips from his. Nails scraped against skin, leaving a painful reminder of you on his body.
No time was wasted in undressing; your shirt was pulled open. Your skirt pulled up over your hips.
“Baby, let me get you ready.” His hands slid up under your skirt, pulling your soaked panties to the side. His fingers were swiping at your entrance. He sensed your urgency, not wanting to hurt you.
You shook your head, continuing to pull his pants down to his knees. Still straddling his lap, you pulled his hand away despite his protests.
“Just need you, please.” The words were thick in your mouth, hovering on top of his hardened cock. Steve was well endowed; it took your body years to become used to his size. Now that it had been months, surely it would be difficult. But you were a masochist. You wanted it to hurt; you needed it to hurt. It’s what you felt like you deserved.
He hesitated, but nodded. Trusting you to make your own decision, his breath hitching when your wet slit rubbed against his tip. His hands braced your hips as you slid down, taking a few inches in a fast thrust.
The gasp that left your mouth was inhuman, your body falling into his hold. “Baby,” He hissed, “I told you to let me-”
You shushed him, the stretch burning in a sick twisted pleasure as you moved further down. Taking all nine inches of him in a gentle swoop. “Needed this. Just like this.” You cried out, your clit rubbing against the coarse hair that sat above his cock.
“Yeah? No one else can fill you up like this, baby.” He grunted, his hold on your hips sure to leave bruises. “Can they?”
You shook your head, grinding down on him slowly. Letting your cunt adjust to the intrusion, soaking him in your arousal.
“Have you been fucking other men, baby?” He mocked the slow, gentle circles he rubbed on your skin, contrasting with his evil words.
You didn’t respond; you couldn’t not while you were still catching your breath. “Bet every time they fucked you with their tiny cocks, you thought of me, huh? Couldn’t quite reach where I can.”
“Shut. Up.” You grumbled, pretending like you weren’t clenching around him at his words.
You lifted your hips, pulling off of him except for an inch before slamming back down. This cut him off from his next taunt, letting out a guttural moan instead. He was quiet after, helping you find a gentle rhythm. Your hips stuttered each time they met his, his bulbous tip hitting your sweet spot each time.
Neither of you was going to last long; you could feel it in the way his muscles tensed. Both of you hadn’t felt the touch of another since your last night together. You were both lost in the feeling, riding his cock like you’d die without it.
“Take that fucking cock.” He sighed, throwing his head back into the couch cushions.
“Do you ever shut up?” You stuttered, your fingernails digging harshly into his shoulder blades. Lost in the feeling of him, before he stopped you. Holding your hips down on him, you barely got a chance to speak before he lifted his hips. Thrusting up into you experimentally, your eyes rolling in the back of your head.
“Tell me how good it feels,” He panted, ignoring how you struggled to bounce in his lap. “Tell me, or I’ll stop.”
You were quiet, meeting his eyes. “You wouldn’t.” You called his bluff, but unfortunately, he was serious as he began to slide you off his lap, excruciatingly slow.
“W-wait,” You cried out, placing your hand on his chest. “Please don’t stop.”
He thrusted up into you slowly, “Be a good girl and tell me how my cock feels splitting you apart.”
“God,” You sobbed, bracing yourself in his hold as he let you bounce on him once again. “Feels so good. S’fucking good baby. Please don’t make me stop.”
“S’what I thought.” His hand slapped your ass harshly, gripping the flesh to help guide you in taking him with each swivel of your hips. In the chaos, he leaned forward, pressing sloppy kisses to your neck.
“Where’s the ring?” He growled, his teeth biting against the flesh of your collarbone.
One of your hands was now laced in his hair, the other pressed firmly on his chest. “W-what?” You slurred, his pace still unrelenting. Fucking his hips up into yours without a care in the world.
“The ring. I want it on your hand.”
“You d-don’t deserve it being on my hand.” You barked back, letting your fingernails dig into his chest. The pain only spurred him on.
“I know.” He grunted, planting his feet.“Doesn’t mean I don’t wanna fuck you with nothing but that ring on your hand.”
“Jesus.” You grumbled, nearly losing your balance. His hands gripped your hips tighter, taking over your movements completely. Fucking up into you as if you weighed nothing, your head falling back.
“This fucking pussy missed me, huh?” He grunted, as if the lewd sounds of your cunt squelching for him weren’t enough. Steve always had a filthy mouth; it only got worse when he had something to prove.
“Fuck you.” You whined, blindly covering his mouth with your hand. In return, all he did was bite down gently on your digits, continuing on.
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.” His words were muffled, your body coming apart on top of his. You screaming out his name only spurred him on, emptying his load deep inside your cunt. With each clench around him, you took him in deeper, holding onto him for dear life as you both rode out your orgasms with each other.
Sweat lined your skin. Steve’s warm lips were against your skin. Relishing the feeling of you still around him.
“You okay?” He mumbled, your eyes slowly fluttering back open. You didn’t know what you felt, now stuck in the after. After this complicated line was crossed. Where were you to go now?
“It’s late.” You said shakily, lifting your hips off of him slowly. Tears prickling your eyes when you were faced with the emptiness when he slipped out of you. You ignored his worried eyes, pulling your skirt back down. Fumbling with your shirt buttons.
“You,” He cleared his throat, pulling his boxers back up, “Don’t have to run out. You can stay. Wait a minute-”
“No, I should go.” You said clearly, stumbling around to collect your things.
“You’ve had a lot to drink, what we did-” He paused, “You need a minute to calm down.”
“I haven’t been drunk since we argued outside. I can’t use the wine as an excuse for this.” You rubbed messily at your eyes. “I’ll be safe, I just can’t be here. I need to go.”
He stopped you at the door, holding onto your hand. “Please call me when you get home. Or I’ll come over to check myself.”
You did call him that night, keeping it short and sweet before you trudged up to your room. Screaming into your pillowcase. You didn’t expect the night to go as it did, your heart unable to handle it. You woke up the next day with an emotional hangover, trudging through the next few days like a zombie.
You kept your promises, getting coffee with Robin. Going Christmas shopping with Max and El. You even spent lunch with your mother, ignoring her judgmental glares when you told her that you and Steve didn’t magically get together over one Christmas party.
Christmas Eve night, and the house was quiet, aside from the phone ringing loudly off the hook at 10 before midnight. You nearly tripped racing to the phone, picking it up in haste.
“Hello?” You spoke into the receiver quietly, praying neither of your parents would pick up the other line.
“Hey.” Steve’s voice rang out quietly, “Sorry if I woke you.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” You admitted, imagining him in his bed. The phone nuzzled between his cheek and neck.
“Me neither.” His voice was deeper than normal. Thick with sleep, and an unknown emotion. Your teeth bit down on your bottom lip, refusing to make the first move. You knew why he called you, and you hated that he knew you’d answer.
“Do you remember our old spot?” He finally spoke.
You were grateful that he couldn’t see your smirk through the phone, “I remember.”
“You can say no, but I can be there in 10.”
You should’ve said no. You should’ve told him you planned to drive home tomorrow, to leave this town with your tail between your legs. Unable to face what you’d done. But lines have already been crossed; what was one more time? So the words were leaving your mouth before you had the chance to reconsider the consequences.
“I’ll see you there.”
Minutes later, you had pulled your car into the abandoned parking lot, right between Hawkins High and Hawkins Presbyterian. It was here that you felt 17 again, sneaking behind your parents' backs to meet up with a boy. Going from one backseat to another. When the familiar rumble of Steve’s beamer pulled up beside you, it was the soundtrack to your teenage years. His engine turning off, his stumbling as he clambered into your passenger seat, as he belonged there.
His cheeks were flushed from the cold. “Hey.”
“Hey.” You replied, just as awkwardly as he did. “Merry Christmas.”
He made the first move, cupping your face in his large hand. Forcing you to look at him. “You’re so beautiful.”
No makeup on, in ratty high school pajamas, hair a mess in the moonlight. You were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen; nothing would change that.
“What are we doing?” You frowned, ignoring the way you nuzzled into his palm.
He only repeated your words with a gentle tone, “You tell me.”
“I don’t know.” You found yourself leaning in, chasing his lips with your own.
You hated how well you knew each other, falling into a rhythm as if there wasn’t a chasm between the two of you. It took all but a few kisses before you were stumbling into the backseat, clothes getting pulled off in every direction.
“Let me take care of you, please.” He was all but begging against your lips, his hands tugging at your pajama pants. Who were you to deny him?
It took a while to get a comfortable position, grown-up bodies not quite slotting together in the leather seats as teenage ones once did. Your head was leaning against the door, cushioned by an old hoodie as Steve lay half on the floor. His lips were trailing messy kisses up your thigh, before his tongue hit your quivering clit.
“Oh my god.” Your body immediately convulsed, head twacking against the car door by accident. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care as his mouth worked magic on you. Slowly inching his fingers deep inside you, curling them just enough to have you see stars.
It was moments like this that you were reminded of just how well he knew your body, playing you like a piano. Knowing exactly how to make you scream. So there was no surprise when a short few minutes later, you were coming apart on his face, lazily grinding against his nose. Chasing every ounce of pleasure from him. He would’ve kept going if you hadn’t stopped him with a short pull of his hair.
“I might get a concussion if we don’t switch.” You giggled, sitting up slowly. Having hit your head against the car door enough. “And you don’t need anymore head injuries.”
He laughed, but paused when he saw you flip over. Settling on your hands and knees for him, your glistening cunt wide on display for him.
“Jesus, fuck.” His cock got even harder if possible, as he balanced on his shaky knees. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, please.” You wiggled your hips at him, making more curses slip from underneath his breath. You wanted to wrap your mouth around him, but the limited movement didn’t allow for that. You heard him pull his boxers down, leaning forward with a cupped hand to your mouth.
He didn’t even need to give you directions; you were spitting into his hand. He used this to stroke his cock lazily, not as if he needed it since he worked you open this time.
Your hands were gripping the door when he slowly pushed in, the angle even deeper than the last time. His hand settled on your lower back while he pressed against your womb with each shift of his hips.
“S’fucking deep.” You babbled, “I love your huge fucking cock.”
Your praise only made him twitch deep inside you, dragging against your warm walls. “S’all yours. Your fucking cock, baby. Only f’you.”
You cried out his name when he moved. It was hot and fast. Both of you were chasing your highs greedily as the car rocked. The only sounds were the pornographic moans slipping through your lips and the harsh recoil of his hips hitting against your ass.
“Need you to cum again for me, baby.” He grunted through his teeth, his hand reaching between your legs to rub circles on your swollen clit. “Gotta feel it.”
With a fast nod, your cunt squelched around him. Your hand slid across the frosted glass, cooling your warmed skin as he trailed kisses up and down your spine. Coaxing you through the orgasm that had your legs trembling.
“Cum inside me.” You cried out, repeating it over and over. “Mark me as yours.”
“All your’s baby. Yeah, oh fuck yeah- take that cum.” He stuttered, his hips stilling as he emptied inside of you. Filling you up once more, plugging your cunt full of him. His fingers kept rubbing your clit slowly, feeling each twitch of your cunt suckling in his cum. “Good girl, taking it all.”
“Fuck.” You whined when he slowly pulled out, helping clean you both up.
He ended up on his back, pulling you onto his chest, awkwardly cuddling in the backseat. Your face nuzzled into his side, hand trailing fingers through his chest hair. A place on his side that was once yours every night.
“If you love me here, why can’t you love me there?” You asked, his chest stilling.
“I never stopped loving you. I haven’t even tried, I just know it’s not possible.” He admitted, his hand running through the ends of your hair. This hair now held memories of him, too.
“Like it. Your hair.” He admitted.
“Only cut it because it reminded me of you.” You admitted back, closing your eyes. Letting the beat of his chest echo in your ears. If this was going to be the last time the two of you were ever like this, you were going to cherish it. Even if it was in the backseat of your car, his head was awkwardly propped against the foggy windows.
“I didn’t cut my hair because I knew no one else would cut it like you.” He sighed, his hands stilling on your scalp.
“We’re hopeless.” He couldn’t help but agree, holding you even tighter.
“Do you wanna go back to my house?” He spoke quietly, not wanting the night to end. Not here, not in the backseat of your SUV like lovesick teenagers.
You didn’t even have to think when you nodded, the two of you dressing in comfortable silence. When you got to his house, he slipped your coat off your shoulders, a practiced motion you got down after years of Indiana winters. His hair was damp from the snow and sweat, tiny curls appearing on his forehead and the back of his neck. Your fingers ached to trace the spiral.
“I have some cider.” He spoke up, “Could warm us up.”
“You should steal some of your dad’s bourbon. I can spike it.” You smiled, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes this time.
“I like the way you think.” He parted with a kiss on your forehead. Leaving you to grab two mugs, warming up the apple cider. Successfully spiking it with the decanter he brought back. You migrated to the couch, settling in the spot across from him. The drink burned your throat, the spice settling deep in your chest.
“We’re gonna have to talk about it, you know?” He spoke, setting his mug down on the table. Leaning back on the couch, one arm spread against the back of it. “Like actually talk about it.”
He looked good, too good. The dark red cashmere contrasts against his pale skin, his still-damp hair falling across his forehead. Your fingers ached to run your hands through his locks again, to press your lips to his exposed neck.
“Tis the damn season.” You said sarcastically, your hand still gripping your mug tightly. Willing the spiked cider to enter your bloodstream faster. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. Just a weekend where we let ourselves pretend everything was okay.”
“It means everything, and you know that.” He spoke quickly, his eyes squinting at you.
Your mouth went dry, taken aback by his words. You knew it did the moment you two crossed the line that it was more than just sex. It could never be just sex between the two of you.
“Okay..” You slumped in your seat, “What does it mean then? Tell me. Because on the same day you were giving Nancy heart eyes, you fucked me on your couch.”
“I don’t see Nancy as anything other than a friend.” He swore, “I’ll admit, it was nice to feel wanted, I guess. I was lonely, and she was here. It was easy to slip into old shoes, harmless flirting. At first, just longing for someone. But Nancy.. We’d never work out. She still loves Jonathan, and I’d never get over you.”
“There’s no one else.” You admitted, answering his question from days ago. “I was just riling you up. Which was very toxic of me, but you’re hot when you’re making assumptions. I went on one date, snuck out through the back door of the restaurant, crying.”
While the thought made his stomach coil, he couldn’t stop the loud laugh that left his lips. “You’re kidding.”
“No, it was embarrassing,” You giggled, “He ordered garlic bread, hold the garlic, so it was just bread. And when I asked him why he didn’t just say bread, he said it wasn’t the same. The only thing I could think of was ‘Wow, Steve would make fun of him with me’. So I cried and left.”
“I would’ve made fun of him with you, but he didn’t deserve to go on a date with you.” He frowned a little through his laughs, “No one does.”
A sharp silence sat between you two. Snow was still falling from outside, and Cider still steamed in your mugs. The room smelled like pine needles and cinnamon.
“I don’t know what to do,” You admitted, feeling small under his gaze, “We both hurt each other, but have we hurt each other too much? Can we take back the things we said?”
“No,” Steve said.
Finally, after a brief moment of silence, your heart sank. So this was it, after everything, this was the closure you were avoiding. The kind that snuffed out the last bit of hope you’d been clinging to, leaving you no soft place to land.
“We can’t take it back. We said those things because we were scared and hurting, and pretending we didn’t mean it at the time isn’t gonna fix anything.”
His words hit like a gunshot at point-blank range. You took a moment to let the words sink in.
You swallowed hard, nodding. “So that’s it, then.”
He shook his head. “No. Not if you don’t want it to be.”
You looked up at him, confused. Unsure if it was the cider speaking, or him. But when you caught his eyes, they were clear and determined.
“We can’t go back to how we were. That much is obvious. Too much time has passed. We’ve both changed, I know I’ve changed.” He let out a soft laugh, “But that doesn’t mean it’s the end.”
Silence stretched between you two, no longer a sharp sting- just a heavy weight over the two of you.
“I spent months convincing myself that I made the right decision. I hurt you, I know I did. And there’s not a day that goes by, Y/n, that I don’t regret that.” He admitted, “I was lost. I was so lost and in my head, and I thought the only way to find myself again was space. I just kept thinking that if I stayed, you’d end up resenting me. That you’d wake up one day and realize you’d slowed yourself down for someone who couldn’t keep up. That you’d hate me the same way my dad hates my mom for ever keeping him in this town.”
His words were heavy with emotion, cut off by your shaky voice. “You didn’t have any right to make that decision without me.”
“God, I know,” he said. “But at the time, I couldn’t breathe. I was just treading water every day. I didn’t know who I was anymore, and I was terrified you’d end up hating me. So I did the worst thing possible and sped up the process.”
“I don’t hate you,” You spoke quickly, “Steve, I could never hate you. Trust me, I tried.”
He cracked a sad smile at that, his thumb rubbing over the edge of his now-chilled cider.
“I guess I just thought leaving would give you space to become everything you were meant to be,” he said. “And maybe give me time to figure myself out. Looking back, yeah. I’d go back in time and change it if I could, but I can’t.”
“Did it?” You asked, “Give you time?”
He shook his head, cruel amusement on his lips. “Just made me realize that losing you made my life so much worse than it was. You changed, you know?”
You raised an eyebrow at him, “The hair isn’t that big of a deal.”
“Not that. You don’t need me the way you used to. You’re more sure of yourself, I can tell. And that scares me, because I know we can’t come back and expect things to be the same.”
“I don’t want the same,” you sighed. “I just don’t want to lose you again.”
He was quiet for a moment, then said, “Maybe we don’t decide everything right now.”
You glanced back at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… we take it slow,” Steve said. “No promises we can’t keep. No rushing back into forever just because we miss each other. Let me earn your love again. Let me earn you putting that ring back on your finger. I’ll do it all over again. I’ll even get back down on one knee.” He brought his hand to yours, lacing your fingers together. Tracing the empty spot on your left ring finger.
You nodded slowly. “No running this time.”
“No running,” he agreed, bringing your hand up to his mouth. Pressing the gentlest kiss to your knuckles.
It wasn’t forgiveness, not in the traditional sense. No one tells you what to do when someone you love hurts you, so you hurt them back twice as hard. It wasn’t a clean slate; there was no pretending to patch over bullet holes with cheap plaster. Starting over didn’t erase the hurt or fix the cracks in the foundation. It just meant choosing each other again, knowing exactly what it could cost. But waking up every day, fighting for each other instead of against one another, felt like something worth risking the pain for.
And maybe in a different lifetime, he would have stayed, maybe in another, you were the one to go. All you knew was that in this one, the two of you weren’t going to spend another second apart.
★ summary: sneaking around behind your father's back had become second nature growing up with the strict chief of hawkins. except this time maybe you and steve weren’t as inconspicuous as you thought
★ pairing: steve harrington x hopper!reader
★ warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, oral f & m receiving, road head, car sex, semi-public sex acts, getting caught
★ word count: 3.4k
★ notes: feel like i write a lot of car stuff im sorry, are yall bored of it??? hahahaha anyways animals by nickelback came on and i had to physically pause and write this. think it's been done before but :P
There was an old saying, “strict parents make sneaky kids”, that often rang true in the Hopper household. Having grown up with a drill sergeant for a father, you found ways around his constant meddling. You understood why he acted the way he did, and you saw what losing Sara and your mother did to him. But you were also just a teenager who was unable to set foot anywhere in this town without the chief of police and his goons breathing down your neck.
That’s why you were currently crouched next to the police scanner, the static voices assuring you that your police chief father would be patrolling into the late hours of the night. The first part of your plan going accordingly.
The second part consisted of your very anxious boyfriend, who was parked half a mile down the road, his fingers nervously tapping on the steering wheel. This Thursday night meet-up had been in the works for weeks; Steve even went as far as burning a cassette full of songs for the two of you, trying to keep the romance alive even in nonideal situations.
Once you were certain you were both in the clear, you slipped your shoes on and climbed out of your bedroom window. Growing up, the police chief's daughter made it hard to be popular; no one wanted to get caught drinking or doing drugs with you around. The last thing an infamous Steve Harrington party needed was Jim Hopper arresting everyone within the vicinity. Steve was the only boy who was willing to face the wrath of his anger. He’d gladly get strung up in the Hawkins town square if it meant he got to see your face one last time.
A smile bloomed on your face when you spotted the beamer poking out of the trees, your hand knocking on the glass quickly. Startling the paranoid man.
He rolled the window down, “Jesus Christ. Get in.” He hissed, only making you roll your eyes. You couldn’t blame his paranoia; Hopper had already talked the fear of god into him. If he were found complicit in sneaking you out and disgracing you in his leather backseat, the Harringtons would have to bury their son. That’s if Hopper let them find the body.
“You’re so antsy.” You giggled, closing the door slowly to appease him. His hands were shaky, but steadied the moment he saw your smile.
“I’m scared shitless. This could be my last night on earth, you know?” He teased, leaning forward and smashing his lips onto yours. It was brief, but passionate. Leaving both of you aching for more.
Weeks of only being able to sneak in kisses through your open door or the halls of Hawkins High. And maybe a janitor closet once, and Mrs. Clicks' empty classroom while she was on break, and the PE bathroom.
“Well, you better get to driving, Stevie, gotta make this last night worth it, huh?” The car was pulling into drive before you could finish your sentence, the smooth sound of the radio matching the gravel spinning under his tires. He knew the way to Lover's Lake like the back of his hand. If you weren’t so eager to get your hands on him, you would be chiding him about it, being one of the first to tame the infamous Playboy of Hawkins.
“Did you make this mix?” You asked after another familiar song came through his speakers, his neck going red.
He simply nodded, his teeth tugging at his bottom lip. “Do you like it?”
Your heart sped up, your hands leaning across the console to cup the back of his head. Fingers tugging gently at the shorter strands on his neck, “I love it. You’re such a romantic under all that cockiness, huh?”
“Cockiness.” He mocked under his breath, pulling into a secluded spot that only select people knew about.
You’ve only had the pleasure of coming here once or twice, nothing but making out and heavy petting. This time was different; it had been weeks since his parents left. Weeks since the last time he’s had your bare flesh against his, and it was driving both of you insane. Teenage hormones seeped through your pores, leaving the air hot.
“What was that?” You hummed, leaning your upper body against the center console. Your hand comes up to rest on his upper thigh, immediately making his cock jump in his pants. He audibly gulped, restraining himself from bucking his hips up at the sudden touch.
“Such a brat.” He mumbled louder, his fingers gripping the wheel tightly. Your hand moved between his legs slowly, cupping his heavy balls through the fabric. It was taking everything in him not to stop the car right there on the side of the road and have his way with you, consequences be damned.
“That’s not very nice, Stevie.” You jutted your bottom lip out, moving to unbuckle yourself.
As soon as the car dinged, Steve cussed, his neck turning towards you. “No, no buckle back up. “
“Steve-”
“No, it’s not safe, Y/n.”
“You’re a safe driver. I trust you.” You gave him a devilish grin, his neck aching from looking back at you, then back on the road.
“Y/n-”
You shushed him, going back to focusing on unbuttoning his jeans. He protested, but never once stopped your eager hands from pulling his aching cock free. The position was awkward; his jeans were pressing into him in all the wrong ways, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care anymore when your hand wrapped around him.
He was heavy in your hands, the tip leaking with precum already. Steve was a goner, his jaw lax as he did his best to stay within the lines of the darkened Hawkins back roads.
“Holy fuck, you’re such a dirty little slut.” Steve groaned, your tongue flattening against him, slowly pulling his mushroomed tip into your mouth.
All you could do was moan around him, his hand slipping when you bobbed your head. The car veers off into the rumble stripes. You nearly pulled off of him before his hand came down on your head, the other steadying the wheel.
“Sorry, sorry. I got it. Don’t stop, baby.” He let out another pathetic whimper, continuing against his length slowly. You couldn’t take but a quarter of his massive cock at this angle, but it was just enough to make his legs shake. Your tongue gliding around him expertly.
By the time he shakily pulled into the designated spot for the night. Leaving his car hidden underneath the low-hanging trees, the only thing seen for miles was the lake and brush.
As soon as the parking brake was pulled, he let you crawl further into his lap, your mouth sinking further down on him. His head was thrown back, his eyes glossy as you gagged around each inch of him.
“Good girl, you’re doing so well.” He cooed, one of his hands in your hair, holding it out of your face, and the other cupping your face. Rubbing circles against your cheek, feeling how wide you were taking him.
Tears were streaming down your face at the intrusion. No matter how many times you took him, you’d never get used to his size. Saliva dripped down your chin, your hands coming up to cover the inches of him you couldn’t fit. His hips were bucking now, unable to stop himself as he grunted your name over and over.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum, gotta stop.” He babbled, your lips pulling off of him with a pop. Your hands didn’t stop stroking him as you smirked, “Isn’t that the point?”
“Wanna cum inside you.” He hissed, covering your hand with his. Pausing your movements. You pouted but still helped tuck his still throbbing cock back into his boxers.
“No fun.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes at your teasing, slapping your ass playfully as you crawled into the backseat. Your back slides against the chilled seats, tossing your sweater off in haste. “Someone’s eager.”
“You’re one to talk.” You whispered, your hands tugging at the hem of his own shirt. Letting it fly somewhere in the vicinity. Your hands running up and down the newly exposed skin as he settled between your legs.
The sound of the cicadas outside matched the frantic beating in your chest. Soundlessly, the two of you fell into each other’s arms. His body slotted between your hips. The moon was high in the sky, reflecting off his honey brown eyes. Your own eyes glimmering back at him, full of lust.
“You’re so beautiful, honey.” He whispered, letting his hand cup your cheek. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, toying with it.
“Kiss me.” You were breathless, your body aching to be against his.
“Breathe.” He whispered, leaning in just to press his plump lips against your cheek, moving down
to the side of your neck. Your head went limp in his hold, letting him guide you however he wanted to.
He kissed every bit of exposed skin, letting his tongue travel between your breasts. Teeth nipping at the supple flesh that bounced out of your bra. One-handed, he reached back and unclasped the lacy fabric with ease. It fell to the floorboard with a soft rustle, Steve’s breath hitching.
“These perfect tits.” He spoke, mostly to himself, as his eyes stayed glued to your bare chest. His tongue reaches out to flick across one of the hardened buds. Pulling it into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing.
“Fuck.” You sighed, your fingernails dragging through his scalp.
He took his time, giving ample attention to both before dragging his sinful tongue down your naval. Hovering above your thin pajama shorts. His warm breath hitting against your clothed cunt makes your hips wiggle in anticipation, your hands anxiously grab his hair, his shoulders, whatever you could grab.
He tapped your hips twice, signalling you to lift as he pulled both your bottoms down in one go. Leaving you completely naked in front of him. The chill of the backseat was gone, replaced with a thick heat. The windows are already fogging up, the car shaking with each shift of your bodies.
“Oh, baby…” He breathed out, his fingertips finding their home on the inside of your thighs. Spreading you open wide for him. Your glistening folds are taking his breath away, his mouth already watering for a taste. You didn’t even get the chance to beg, his mouth coming down and attaching itself to your clit.
“Steve.” You let out his name in a wanton moan. He went in hot and heavy, no time to prepare for the pleasure licking up your spine. It was messy, his mouth moaning into you as he drank in your arousal. He knew every spot that made you preen, and exactly what angle to slide his fingers in to make you gasp.
“Taste so good f’me baby.” He mumbled, curling his fingers deep inside. Making sure to hit that spongey spot. As soon as he found it, he grinned wildly, drinking in the breathy noises that escaped your lips.
He leaned back down, letting his tongue find your clit once again. Flattening against the bundle of nerves, chasing your high. It wasn’t until the movement of leaves outside the car made him still. His body went rigid.
“Did you hear that?” Steve’s head came up quickly, making your hips buck at the sudden loss. His fingers were still moving inside of you at a brutal pace; all you could hear was him curling the lewd noises of your sopping cunt.
“Just the wind,” You breathed out, not even bothering to look out the foggy windows. “Please don’t stop, baby. I’m so close.”
He leaned his mouth back down hesitantly, letting his tongue swipe at you once more.
Your head was still leaning against his wadded-up jacket, your eyes rolled into the back of your head.
“Steve.” You moaned, hips bucking wildly against his nose. He let his eyes flutter closed, getting back into the moment. This moment was short-lived, much as your approaching orgasm. Your eyes opened for just a second, just enough to see the flashlight appearing in the back window. You’d know that police police-issued flashlight from anywhere.
“Oh my god, Steve.” You panted, sitting up frantically.
Steve, oblivious, only sped up his movements. “You gonna cum for me, baby-“
“My fucking dad’s outside,” You nearly yelled, watching his body freeze. Fight or flight kicks in within a moment. The two of you have never scrambled around faster in your lives, the shadow of your dad looming closer.
Both of you missed the sounds of the Chevy rolling in through the gravel, headlights turned off. The gruff slam of his car door, the crunching of twigs beneath his boots. He was supposed to be on patrol; you don’t know how he even knew you were gone.
“I can’t find my shirt,” Steve yelled, helping you slip your shorts back up your legs. Clad in only his boxers, struggling to pull his jeans up in the tightened space.
“I can’t find my bra!” You whispered, both of you panting frantically.
The sound of his flashlight banging on the glass had Steve’s eyes popping out of his head.
“Harrington,” Hopper's voice boomed, “You have 30 seconds to be out of this car before you never see it again.”
“Oh my god, I’m fucked.” He threw his head back, his face still coated in your slick. You panicked, leaning forward and trying to clean him off with your sweater sleeve while the countdown began.
“29,28,…. 20.”
“That’s not even fucking fair, he’s skipping numbers.” He whined all while you tried to make it look like you both weren’t minutes away from making this car shake.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how he knew.” That was all you could get out when the door handle jiggled. Between the heat in the car and the sickly sweet smell of sex, it was undeniable what was happening, but you were both gonna lie it out.
Steve said a prayer to every god that was listening, and hit the unlock button. The door was nearly ripped off its hinges, revealing a disheveled Steve sitting on his knees on the seat, while you were sitting as if nothing was happening, legs crossed, pretending to fumble around with a random manual tucked into the backseat pocket.
“H-hey….” Steve winced as soon as the words came out of his mouth. Hopper was in a fury, his hand grabbing Steve's shoulder, yanking him out of the car. He nearly fell to the ground with a thud. You were crawling out with them.
“Whoa!” You yelled, watching your father get into Steve’s face.
“You wanna tell me what you two are doing out here? Huh?” The vein in his neck was protruding, spit flying.
“Oh my god, oh my god.” Steve was mumbling, leaning out of his tight hold.
“We were just kissing.” You yelled, throwing your hands up.
“And I was born yesterday.” Hopper scoffed, “Tell me, Steve, were you two just kissing?”
Steve was a terrible liar; this was something you adored in any instance that wasn’t this. “Technically-” He winced, preparing for your father’s hands to wrap around his throat.
Your head fell into your hands, Hopper’s eyes squinting in confusion. It took him less than 30 seconds to realize what he had meant, his hands only gripping tighter.
“You think this is a game, son?”
Steve’s head shook, “No! NO! I am so sorry, so sorry.”
“Let him go!” You yelled, “This is ridiculous.”
Hopper’s laugh boomed, “No, what’s ridiculous is my daughter lying to me. Making me think something happened to her just to find her screwing around with the Harrington boy.”
“We weren’t screwing around-” Steve tried another lie, getting cut off.
“So those condoms in the front seat, just for decoration, huh?” He moved the flashlight back to the car, the evidence damning. You didn’t even realize Steve had put the packets there, your skin flushing.
“Steve, please be quiet.” You begged, his eyes closing when Hopper let him go reluctantly.
“Yeah, might wanna listen to her.” Your dad gruffed, shining the flashlight in your face now.
Steve nodded wordlessly, slowly gaining his bearings once again. Standing still across from him, his eyes still wide. His eyes glance down to the duty belt on his hips, taking note of the gun sitting in the holster. Hopper notices, his hand falling to his hip.
“Not gonna shoot you, boy.”
“I wasn’t sure,” He admitted with a shaky laugh.
Hopper let the anger sit with him for a moment, letting out a disappointed huff. “Got a call about a car driving with no headlights down the back road. Imagine my surprise when it came back to your father.”
“I’m really sorry.” He frowned, “I don’t-I’m not. I really like your daughter.”
“Then respect her enough to not defile her in your backseat.” He ignored Steve’s admission, scoffing. Joyce’s words echoed around in his head.
“Can we leave now?” You huffed back, the Hopper irritation radiating off of both of you. It would no doubt be a war zone when you got home, and you wanted it to be over with. You were already playing the argument out in your head. It didn’t matter that you were 18; you lived under his roof and obeyed his rules.
The flashlight went back into Steve’s eyes, “Take her home.”
Thinking it was a trap, Steve stayed still. Only moving when Hopper yelled it again, Steve stumbled over to the car.
Your dad paused, hand rubbing over his face with a sigh. “I’ll be home in a few hours. I want him gone by then.”
Your eyes widened in shock, choking out a laugh. “Wait, what?”
“You heard me,” he grumbled, shuffling on his feet. Steve wasn’t listening, too busy fumbling around in the backseat trying to find the keys he had shoved into the pocket of his jeans, then the jeans flew all around the car.
“You’re giving me permission to bring Steve over?” Your eyebrow was raised, “Without you home.”
The words pained Hopper to say, an uncomfortable frown constant on his face. “That’s what I said. You’re grown enough to make smart decisions. Well, I don’t know, considering where I found you, but….”
“Is this a trap?” You questioned, making his frustration boil over.
“Oh my god, just go! I’ll see you later!” He yelled, flicking the flashlight off. His footfalls were heavy underneath the gravel as he made his way back to his truck. He paused halfway, turning back to look at Steve once again.
“I expect to see you for dinner some night soon, son.” He glared at the boy, making him gulp. Answering with a string of high-pitched ‘yes sirs’.
The two of you stayed still until the Chevy pulled out of the cove and back onto the main road. When the headlights disappeared, you both let out heavy breaths. Looking at each other wildly.
“Did he give me permission to take you home and fuck you?”
You cringed, slapping his shoulder harshly as you crawled back to the passenger seat. “I think he just had a weird change of heart. Probably wasn’t him. It was most likely Joyce.”
“He kinda ruined my boner though.” Steve sighed, starting the car up.
All you could do was laugh, putting your hand on his thigh when he began the drive back to your house. “We have 2 hours, don’t worry, it’ll come back.”
You were right, it was indeed Joyce who pushed him to give you more freedom. The rest of his shift was spent with his eyebrows furrowed, a headache forming from the constant scowl gracing his face. Cursing Joyce internally for giving you leeway the same way she did Jonathan with Nancy. He, too, had once been young, dumb, and in love.
When he got home that night, the anger came back in full force, Steve’s car sitting in the driveway. He stormed into the house, yelling on the tip of his tongue. Nothing came out when he noticed the silence, walking into the hallway. Your door was cracked open the allotted three inches, and he peeked in.
Both of you were fully dressed, your head leaning against Steve’s chest. Eyes closed and no doubt drooling into his shirt. The TV played old reruns of some show, and a bucket of popcorn lazily sat on your nightstand. Steve turned back at the noise, his eyes wide at Hopper standing in this doorway. Time had gotten away, and he didn’t wanna wake you. The boy shuffled, ready to hightail it out of there.
Instead, Hopper held his hand up, flicking off your bedroom light for him. “Don’t wake her.” That was all he whispered before stepping into the hall.
-Steve is not a tit man, he is not an ass man, he is a you man smut, fem reader! Spanking, ass play, tit fucking, oral (kinda) m receiving! No y/n, not proof read! This feels filthy to me, enjoy!
─────────────────────
"So boobs, or butts?" asked Robin.
"Huh? What?" Steve was actually busy, stacking shelves, something Robin should've been doing if she wasn't leaning over the counter, flipping through some trashy magazine.
She rolled her eyes because Steve just wasn't joining in on the joke. "Boobs or bum, it's a simple question, Harrington?"
Simple question, sure. "Well, in what context?"
"Context, seriously?"
"Yeah, I mean. What are we talking?"
"Which do you prefer, duh?" said Robin. "It says here every guy has a favourite, ass or boobs. So, my dear Dingus, I'm wondering which you would pick if you had to pick one."
Steve ditched the last of the tapes atop the unit and leant on it, cocking his head and thinking. "Huh." He was sure it was the most thought he'd ever put into a question.
Let's see: asses were great, heck he loved to watch yours walk away from him, especially in those jeans he'd brought for you last winter. They hugged you just right. After every petty fight the two of you had had you walking away from him, a purposeful teasing sway of your hips that was there only to drive him bad. But if he picked ass, that meant he'd be without your boobs. Your rather wonderful boobs. There was nothing he loved more than hiding in them, finding the beautiful moans he could coax out of you by sucking at them. And the view he got when looking up at you from them had him half hard in his jeans-
"Earth to Dingus one!" yelled Robin, a balled up bit of paper hitting him in the cheek.
"Hey- geez! A man's got to think!"
Steve wasn't a big thinker- every teacher in high school would tell him that. Steve saw himself as more a practical learner.
"Steve!"
"Quiet, baby, I'm studying," said Steve. He was watching his fingers dig into the plush of your ass, spreading the cheeks. His fingers marked your skin red and white with how hard he was gripping your ass. He'd been at it for what felt like hours for you.
You were left naked, withering with need on your sheets, in your little room that still hung with your childhood celebrity crushes. Your hands couldn't make heads or tails of Steve and you were under strict instructions not to play- he needed to focus.
"... oh yeah-" Steve pulled apart your cheeks again and let go, watching them clap back together. He swatted at your ass, watching it ripple and studying the finger prints he left behind.
"Urg- Steve!"
His brows rose. "You liked that baby?" he asked. This was as much about you as it was him. If you didn't enjoy it then he wouldn't either. He slapped your ass again, waiting for your moan of approval. The red marks stood out, prominent.
"Yes, yes, Steve!" you panted. He was so close to where you needed him most but he was doing his best to ignore how much you dripped on your sheets.
"Noted... noted..." he mumbled.
Steve laid his head on one of your ass cheeks like they were his favourite cushions, continuously swatting at the other until it was red and wearing the print of his hand. Then he went back and soothed it, licking over the redness with his tongue, kissing over the trail.
"Stevie, please-"
He nodded, moaning against the softness of you before moving on and doing the same to the next. His own hand travelled down his bare chest and tugged at his cock, hard, leaking and begging as badly as you were.
But Steve was a man on a mission. He needed answers and fortunately, this was the only way.
His hands roamed your ass, soothing the redness he'd created while he leant up, pressing his crotch to the edge of your bed and burying himself in your cunt. He found, that pushing your hips up and spreading your cheeks at a certain angle had you perched on a plate for him.
Wet. Ready.
Steve groaned deep in his throat and dove in. With your lips spread his tongue could make easy work of you. Finding your wetness and eating it up. With your back arched, hips up, it was easier for you to grind down on him. "That's it baby- jus' like that," he mumbled into you, vibrations coursing through your body. "Show me what that ass can do."
You had your hand up against your headboard, steadying your rockiness and thanking the heavens you were home alone with Steve that night. Your other hand reached around, un-able to help yourself in tangling in Steve's hair and pushing him in.
Your loving and doting boyfriend was happy to comply, licking up and down your folds, flicking your clit at every chance.
You came un-done with a muffled scream into your pillow when he pulled your cheeks apart and flattened his tongue against you, shaking his head there until you released all over him. You moaned, biting into your pillow and probably drooling.
Anyone would've thought you were filming a porno but now, it was just your boyfriend so happy to be studying something he excelled at.
Steve waited for you to catch your breath before shoving down his jeans and boxers in one. "Part two baby."
"Huh?"
You had little time to think, your boyfriend pulling at your hips till you were perched at the edge of your bed.
"On your knees baby.... know you can do it... there you go." Steve steadied you, a hand on your hips. One of his legs was firmly on your bedroom floor, the other cocked up on your bed as he guided his cock, leaking with pre-cum into your hole.
"Arg-" you cried out, leaning all your weight onto your forearms to keep up right. "Shit baby!"
Steve fell over you. Whether it was how long he'd been keeping himself from your cunt or the sounds you made as he slid in to you, but he was not going to last long. He kissed your shoulder blade as he moved deeper, slowly. He'd gone in from the back before but it had never felt so good. "My god, baby, so good. Squeezin' me so tight, you know that."
You nodded, muffling a hum.
Steve's hand wrapped in your hair, tugging your head back enough not to hurt but enough so he could hear you if you made those noises that drove him insane.
He rocked in, steady. "Oh yeah, your ass ticks the box for me, baby."
You chuckled but moaned loud when he went all the way in, balls slapping against you. "Steve!"
He pulled your head back, attaching his lips to yours in a messy lick of tongues and wet lips. "So good baby- fuck- you're so good." He released your head, gripping your hips and thrusting into you like a mad man.
Steve's own head fell back, a string of curses and praises bouncing around the walls of your room. "Oh shit baby, feel so good.... so pretty, you know that..."
You came when his thrusts got hard, his strokes longer and reaching deep into you. He pulled out quickly, pumping himself once- twice before releasing all over your ass. The redness hiding under his cum.
It was a sight he kept in his mind...
Until the next night.
Steve had invited you round to his empty house, under the pretence of a movie. An innocent easy movie.
He may not have been one for the lame studying in high school but he knew at least for conclusive results you needed a controlled environment.
The innocent movie had ended up with your top strewn across his living room floor somewhere, carrying you up to his room and having you perched in his lap.
His lips were kissing all over your chest and when his lips missed a spot his hands sort out that area.
"Steve, baby, please not this again-" you whined, grinding yourself down on his lap. "You had me waiting an hour before I could come last night."
"Don't you want me to study?" he asked, looking up at you. He pecked your lips once.
"Yes but for real tests," you giggled as he kept pecking your lips.
Steve scooped you up in his arms and dumped you on his best, knocking something off on his bedside in the movement. "Oh, this is way more important, sweetie."
He licked over your nipple on the right while massaging the other in his large palm. He sucked, pulling the skin until you whined out.
"Steve!"
He moved onto the other, licking and soothing over your nipple that was perk in his mouth. Then he moved back to the other- and the other again. He was doing this all wrong, trying to devout the same amount of time to them both but you were withering around in his arms and your boobs were shaking in his face when you moved and it was driving him mad.
Steve pressed them together, watching you whine and moan as you desperately tried to buck your hips up to him. "Be good baby, you have to be patient-"
"Mhph-"
He licked up between the two like it was your pussy, biting and licking, leaving bruises that only you and him would see. It was just like last night, cock straining, you whining.
Why hadn't he done this investigation ages ago?
You looked at him, brushing back his hair so your eyes could clash, blown wide and wild with need. "Steve-" you reached down, grabbing wildly at his cock and squeezing.
"Mmh- baby-baby," Steve dragged himself away. "I've got- I've got an idea. You trust me?"
You nodded, enthusiastic, eager. "Yes, anything! Anything you want!"
Steve's lips latched onto yours, his tongue exploring your mouth. Heck, why wasn't your mouth on the list. Maybe he'd do his own experiment with that tomorrow.... but for tonight, it was all about his favourite girls.
Steve got your pants off along with his, throwing them behind him. He moved up on the bed until his cock lingered over your chest.
Your eyes lit up and you laughed. "Oh, Stevie."
You reached out but Steve took your hands, pushing them into your boobs until they were positioned perfectly.
Steve spat in his hand and pumped himself. "I'm gonna- I'm gonna slide in now, okay?"
You nodded, biting down on your lip.
"Oh-" with you pushing your boobs in together Steve could slide his cock between them perfectly. Your pussy was warmth but this, this was something else. "Ohhh shit-"
You were left a chuckling mess, watching his head thrown back as he rocked his hips into your chest. Geez, it would be a fight between your pussy and your chest.
Steve looked down at you, smiling at the way your bottom lip was tucked under your teeth. He reached over, holding himself up over you and tugging your lip out from your teeth, your teeth grazing the tip of this thumb. You put out your tongue and Steve rubbed his thumb against it. "Sh-shit-" his movements were quick. He'd never seen something so hot as you being his wholly. In every aspect.
He wondered if your ass was still red with his hand prints?
But tonight was not your ass.
It was your beautiful tits-
You pushed your boobs together more and his cock stuttered when you flattened out your tongue, reaching down so his tip just got a taste of your tongue at every pump.
But it was enough to have Steve driven mad.
"Baby- keep it like that- perfect, jus... jus-"
Your neck strained as you leant, licking him every time he got up enough. You fell back, head bouncing on his cushions. "Gonna cum on my chest, big boy? Show me how much you love my tits?"
"Uh-huh," he whined. He didn't even care if he sounded pathetic. He was putty in your hands and he'd do whatever you asked.
You arched your back, your boobs pushing into his cock. "Cum, please, Stevie, all over me!"
"Oh fuck, shit baby, I-"
He finished over your chest, making a mess of you. You still didn't let go of your boobs, keeping his cock nestled into them as he rode out his high, cock stuttering.
Your tongue was still out flat, licking any bit of his release you could reach. Only when his dick had stopped twitching did he move away from you and you let go of your boobs.
Steve practically drooled at the mess he'd made. His cum, the hickies he'd left on you. It was so hot he could've got hard all over again.
You didn't even blink, covered in him. "So, do you have all the results you need."
Steve's tongue pocked the inside of his cheek as he pushed your legs up to your chest, showing off your cunt to him. "Oh I don't know about that."
Safe to say Steve could not pick, anything that was you was fucking perfect to him.
—summary: your ex shows up at your house and steve is so jealous that he wants to get you pregnant!
—pairing: steve harrington x female!henderson!reader
—word count: 3.5k
—content: +18, smut !!! (minors dni), the photos do not visually portray the reader at all!!, established relationship, coach!steve, oral sex (female receiving), smitten!steve, descriptions of the reader having female genitalia, some porn with some plot, big dick!steve, really passionate sex, unprotected sex, creampie, a lot of body worship, praise kink, breeding kink.
ᯓ♡ part one ── part two
writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!
The world doesn’t end.
That’s the strange part of it all.
Vecna is gone now. The Upside Down sealed, quiet at last. Hawkins still bears the scars — cracked roads, abandoned storefronts, memories stitched into every corner — but life insists on going on. It always does.
So do you.
It’s a calm afternoon when it happens. One of those slow, golden Hawkins afternoons that feel earned after years of chaos. Sunlight spills through the windows of the house — your house — warming the hardwood floors, catching dust motes midair like constellations.
Steve’s house.
No — your house. Together.
It’s small, cozy, nothing fancy. A soft blue exterior, a creaky porch, a backyard Steve swore he’d “fix someday” and never quite does. Wind chimes hang crookedly by the door. There are plants you keep alive against all odds. A framed photo of the kids — not kids anymore — on the hallway wall.
You’re sitting on the couch, legs tucked under you, flipping through a book you’ve read a dozen times already.
Your eyes keep checking the clock near the fireplace every ten minutes, and your fingers tap impatiently at the open page in your book. Just five more minutes and Steve should be here.
Everything feels peaceful.
Real.
And then—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound doesn’t belong.
It’s sharp. Insistent. Out of place. Disturbing the tranquility of the atmosphere.
You know it's not Steve, because you know his mannerisms, his movements, his gestures. You know him. So you're sure it's not him standing behind the door.
You open it anyway.
And there he is.
Your ex.
Patrick.
Older. Rougher. Thinner somehow. His hair is unkempt, his eyes glassy, his breath heavy with alcohol, you can smell it from where you're standing.
He’s leaning just slightly to one side, like gravity doesn’t quite work right for him anymore.
“Hey,” he slurs, blinking like he’s surprised you’re real. “Hey… wow. You— you look good.”
You don’t smile, you don’t flinch either. And most definitely, you don't greet him back.
“What are you doing here, Patrick?” instead, you ask calmly.
Patrick’s gaze flicks past you and he can get a glimpse of how lovely your house looks from the inside, as much as from the outside, warm and cozy.
He swallows.
“I just… I needed to see you,” he mumbles, words tumbling. “I know I shouldn’t be here. I know I said I wouldn’t come back. I just— I messed up. I keep messing up.”
“Yes,” You answer him, nice and patient. “You did.”
He nods too quickly, like a desperate dog.
“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “I’ve said it before, I know— I-I know, like a hundred times— but I mean it. I was scared. I was jealous. I was stupid. I ruined everything.”
“Patrick—”
“I can change,” he interrupt you, voice cracking and trembling with remorse. “I did change. I swear. I stopped drinking— well— I mean, mostly—” He laughs bitterly. “I know I don’t deserve another chance. I just— I loved you.”
You inhale slowly through your nose, steadying yourself.
“Patrick,” you say again, firmer now. “It's been years. You have to move on from the past and get on with your life.”
He looks at you like you’ve struck him, literally like you had just punched him in the chest.
“I was young,” Patrick insists. “I didn’t know how to— how to handle it. You were… intense. Everyone wanted you. And then there was Harrington, always hovering—”
And speaking of the devil, that’s exactly when you hear it.
The unmistakable sound of tires crunching against gravel.
A familiar engine.
You don’t turn around right away — you don’t need to. Your body recognizes it before your mind does. The tension in your shoulders eases, just a fraction.
Patrick hears it too and that's why he rushes to say the bullshit he has planned.
“I know you’re with him now,” he just keeps going, oblivious to his likely doom if Steve sees him there. “I know. I just needed you to know that if you ever— if things ever—” his voice drops to a whisper. “I’d still be here.”
“You need to leave,” you raise your eyebrows, suggesting rather than threatening.
Because you know how overprotective Steve has been lately. Seeing Patrick at the front door of your house, with you standing in front of him, wrapped in that silk robe... you don’t even know how he could react.
The truck door slams shut behind Patrick's back.
Footsteps on the porch, confident, tired, unhurried.
Steve appears right at your side, still wearing his blue baseball cap, white t-shirt clinging to his body with the buttons open on his chest, a whistle hanging loosely around his neck.
There’s a faint smear of dirt on his jeans, sun-kissed skin, the quiet exhaustion of a man who’s spent hours yelling encouragement at teenagers who barely listen.
He's looking as hot and sexy as always, but there's something about him that afternoon that's got you feeling all tingly down in the pit of your belly.
Steve takes in the scene in half a second.
Patrick. Too close.
Your posture —calm, but guarded.
“Hey,” Steve says, tone neutral but unmistakably firm. He steps fully beside you, close enough that his arm brushes yours. “Is there a problem here?”
You nod immediately, looking up at him with softening eyes.
Your hand rests on his lower back as he casually wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him intuitively and with a purpose of protection. His fingers gently grasp your shoulder, reassuringly caressing the fabric of your cute light blue robe.
“Yeah,” you answer. “He was just leaving.”
Patrick stiffens.
“I wasn’t—” he starts, then stops right there when Steve finally looks directly at him.
“You didn't hear that, man?” he asks, with his voice dropping to a rasp when he addresses the light-haired man directly. “She asked you to leave.”
His voice is calm. Steady. Unshakeable. And primitively territorial. That makes you even hotter.
Patrick seems to grumble something—possibly profanities—but then he looks at you one last time before turning around, and stumbles down the steps of the porch, disappearing into the street without another word.
Steve waits until Patrick is out of sight before turning to you. Both of his hands reach out to you now, one caressing your face and the other your hip, his eyes as soft as his hands as they lock with yours.
“You okay?” he asks, very softly.
You nod, leaning into his chest. His arms wrap around you instantly, strong and familiar, his chin resting on the top of your head.
“I am,” you whisper.
He exhales, relief softening his features and presses a kiss to your hair.
“What the hell is his problem? Seriously, can't he just move on from the past?” Steve admits quietly. “I’m proud of you.”
You look up at him, leaning your chin on his chest, your big eyes lighting up upon hearing his praise.
“For what?”
“For not letting him take up space he doesn’t deserve anymore.”
You smile teasingly, “Coach Harrington getting all wise on me?”
He chuckles, trying to hide the fact that you say his job title and you already have him rock hard in his boxers.
“Occupational hazard,” Steve replies with his voice lowering tenderly, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. “Teenage boys make you philosophical.”
You laugh softly, and Steve leans down to kiss you, slow, gentle, yet possessive.
The kiss lingers, but the sweetness of it begins to shift. When Steve pulls back just an inch, his eyes aren't soft anymore. They’re dark, dilated, and fixated on the way your silk robe has slipped slightly off one shoulde, and reveal the strap of one of your lingerie sets, his favorite.
Hurriedly but carefully, Steve brings you inside the house, drawing a giggle from you as he picks you up with urgency in his motions.
“You opened the door of our house to your ex wearing this?” Your man gasps in disbelief, emphasizing the words with a high-pitched voice. His eyebrows are furrowed slightly as he looks down at you, holding you close to his chest as he walks you to your shared bedroom.
He kicks the door open with his foot and sets you down on the bed. His hands stay on you though — firm, warm, grounding — one braced on the mattress beside your thigh, the other sliding under the hem of your robe to find the bare skin of your thigh, dangerously teasing you into tearing off the delicate robe, which obstructs the view of your beautiful body from his eyes.
The sunset light filters through the curtains, bathing his body in golden tones as he tosses his cap aside. His messy hair falls over his forehead, and you reach out to run your fingers through it, pulling him in for a cute little kiss.
“I was waiting for you,” you jump on your own defense between soft giggles.
“Yeah?” he coaxes, voice low, textured with something dangerous and tender all at once. “You were waiting for me, baby? Not another man?”
“Nuh-uh, only you, Coach,” you hum contentedly, flashing a playful smile.
Because you know what you do to him every time you say that. It's like letting the monster out, unleashing chaos.
His touch lingers on the bare skin of your plump thigh, warm and gentle, sending little shivers down your spine and ripples of pleasure rush to your core, you're already pulsating for him, pussy wet and ready, greedy. The way his eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles down at you... it makes your heart do crazy things in your chest.
You tilt your head up, brushing your lips against his jaw in a soft, teasing kiss.
“Steve...” you call out to him with a disapproving and whiny pitch in your voice, your fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer. The silk robe slips off your shoulder, and you feel the cool air kiss your skin, but his warmth chases it away quick as he kiss the skin.
“So what’s that look for, huh?” he teases as he kiss down from your neck to your collarbone, gradually removing the silky clothing from his path. His voice is all husky now, like he knows exactly what you're thinking and what you want.
In a moment, he is kissing your hand with appreciation, specifically your ring finger, where the small diamond sparkles under the afternoon sun.
You bite your lip, feeling that familiar heat pooling low in your belly. “Just... missed you today, baby”
Your words come out all soft and needy, with a little pout that always gets him.
To tell the truth, you've been horny all day. You blame the havoc of hormonal swings that have been going through your body since you moved into the house. You've been horny every day since then. Seeing Steve blossom into the shared life you have is truly a privilege, and you feel so lucky to have him as your boyfriend—your fiancée.
Of course, the fact that he's the coach of the school fills you with pride. However, witnessing his body develop into a more domesticated, husband-like form, has you truly reduced to a beast in heat. His hair is still just as glorious, with its iconic tousle, his eyes just as warm, his shoulders just as broad, but the muscles of his teenage self have smoothed out, his pecs are bigger than before, his abs mellowed into a small belly.
He looks so… big, so husband, so daddy.
Naturally, Steve with a dad bod has you drooling at the mouth.
And he knows the power he has over you, how he practically has you crawling behind him.
He cups your face, thumb brushing your lower lip. “Aw, yeah? Missed me a lot?”
Before you can even formulate an answer, he's kissing you—deep and slow, like he's pouring all his love into it. His tongue slips past your lips, tasting you, claiming you, and you melt against him with a tiny whimper. Because his kisses always make your knees go all wobbly!
You tug at his shirt, wanting skin on skin, and he helps right away, yanking it over his head in one smooth motion and the whistle goes away too. His chest is right there, all beefy and warm from the sun, and all for you to touch and kiss and bite, so you press your palms flat against it, feeling his heartbeat race under your touch.
“God, you're so beautiful,” he groans, his mouth moving back down to your neck, sucking lightly on that spot that makes you gasp.
“You are,” you correct him, biting your lower lip and arching your back for him.
Steve huffs out a quiet laugh against your skin, warm breath raising goosebumps along your neck. You're always saying that. That he's beautiful, that he's sexy, that he's everything you could ever want.
And he keeps giggling and blushing like a teenager in love every time you say it.
The robe falls open a little more, and his hand dips right inside, cupping your breast, thumb circling your nipple until it's hard and aching.
“Mmm, Steve... please,” you whine, arching into him. Your fingers fumble with his belt, desperate to feel him, all of him.
He chuckles low against your skin, nipping gently. “So greedy, sweetheart. Patience, we have all night.”
But he's just as eager and horny, helping you undo his jeans, shoving them down with his boxers. His cock springs free, already painfully hard and thick, leaking at the tip. You wrap your hand around it, stroking slowly once, and twice.
“Fuck, that feels good,” he hisses, hips bucking into your touch.
One hand he needs to pull the robe off your shoulders completely, letting it pool onto the bed under you. Now you're in nothing but that tiny piece of lingerie, and his eyes rake over you like you're the only thing in the world.
Steve takes a moment to gaze down at you in awe. That piece of lingerie is gorgeous because you are wearing it, because it is clinging to your body so perfectly, and that color works deliciously with your skin.
“Thinking about getting home. About you,” he confesses against your skin. “All day”
You smile, breathless. “You’re home now.”
He looks at you, all warmth and possession, and leans down until his lips brush your ear.
“Not yet,” he whispers, and the word vibrates through you.
His mouth leaving a trail of fire down your neck, over your collarbone, to the swell of your breasts. He pushes the lace cup down with his chin, and his hot, wet mouth closes over your nipple.
You cry out, back arching off the bed. The sensation is electric, sharp and sweet, pulling a direct line of heat to your core. He sucks, hard, then soothes with his tongue, his teeth grazing lightly. He moves to the other breast, giving it the same devastating attention, while his hand palms the first, squeezing gently.
Steve spends a long time worshiping your skin, his mouth finding the sensitive dip of your hip bone, the soft curve of your belly, adorned with delicate lacy details, whispering sweet praises into your skin, like he has a whole special language just for your body.
You do understand some of them.
“So pretty for me. My girl, my pretty girl.”
His hips grind against yours, the thick, hard head of his cock rubbing against the damp fabric of your panties.
“Stevie, please,” you beg, voice ragged and trembling with arousal.
“I know, baby,” he coos, understanding you perfectly. His hand slips between your bodies, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. He finds your pussy, slick and hot, already dripping wet for him. A low, approving sound rumbles in his chest. “God, you’re so wet. All for me, mhm?”
He strokes you, once, twice, his thumb circling your clit with just the right pressure. You whimper, your hips lifting off the bed, chasing after his touch. But he pulls his hand away, leaving you empty and fucking throbbing.
“Baby” you whine out, pouting.
He smiles, a dark, tender thing. He hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down your legs, tossing them aside. He shifts back, kneeling between your thighs, and just looks. His gaze is worshipful, hungry.
He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, then another, higher. And another, a little bit higher. His breath ghosts over your folds, and you tremble under him.
“Gotta taste you,” he says, voice thick with eagerness. “I have to prep you first, pretty girl, you know that”
And then his mouth is on you.
You gasp, fingers flying to his hair and pulling hit. His tongue is broad and flat, licking a slow, thorough stripe from your entrance all over to your clit.
Steve moans against you, the vibration making you jerk and arch so prettily for him. He settles in, feasting on you like you’re his last meal. His tongue flicks and swirls and rolls, his lips suck, his stubble of days scratches deliciously against your tender flesh.
The pleasure builds fast, coiling tight in your belly. You’re babbling, words that make no sense, just his name and yes and more. He slides two fingers inside you alongside his expert tongue, curling them, finding that perfect spot on the spongy walls inside you as his mouth works your clit.
It’s too much. He's too much!
You cum with a sharp cry, hips lifting off the bed, your body clenching and splashing around his fingers as waves of pure, blinding pleasure crash through you. He gentles his mouth, licking you through it, drinking every drop you give him, until you’re a trembling, boneless heap on the sheets.
He crawls back up your body like a pirate does with a treasure map, recognizing, admiring, appreciating, kissing your stomach, your breasts, your lips. You can taste yourself on him, salty and sweet, and it’s the most yummy thing.
“Ready for me?” he whispers, his cock nudging against your soaked entrance, leaking and throbbing urgently for your attention.
You nod, breathless. “Always.”
He pushes in.
Slow. So impossibly slow. You feel every inch, the thick stretch, the perfect fullness as he sinks deep, deep, until his hips are flush with yours. His tummy presses down on you, his big, beefy biceps bulging on either side of your head.
He is so big—every part of him. It's overwhelming. He's everywhere. In every breath you take, in every beat of your heart, in every inch of his heavy build molding itself deep into your gut, in every blink of your eyes, there he is. Glorious, heavenly, out of this world.
Steve stills, buried to the hilt, forehead pressed to yours. His breath comes in ragged puffs and when you squeeze around his length, you get a hoarse whimper out of the depths of his throat.
“Fuck,” he breathes out shakily. “You feel… perfect. You take me so good, honey. S-so good”
He begins to move. Long, deep, measured strokes that make you see stars every time he bottoms out.
It’s definitely not frantic. It’s making love.
Every thrust is a promise, a reclamation, a craving for life. His eyes never leave yours, dark brown pools of adoration and longing.
Steve soon shifts his angle slightly, and on the next thrust, he hits a spot that makes you sob and whine under him. Pleasure, sharp and bright, sparks through your veins.
“Right there,” you moan. “Oh, Steve, right there!”
You feel another orgasm building, deeper this time, starting in your toes and climbing up your spine. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper, taking him so profoundly that you feel you must be meant to take him.
“There you go, baby,” he coaxes, voice strained with emotion. You force your eyes open, meeting his gaze. His face is flushed, sweat beading on his temple.
His voice lowers filthily and you love it when he gets like that. Pussy drunk, filthy, wild.
“All day thinking about this— filling you up. Gonna give you all my babies, huh—” Steve is babbling out words, the first ones that cross his mind blurred by pleasure and by you, drooling on your skin as he speaks. “You're gonna take my babies, right, sweetheart? That way everyone will know once and for all who you belong to, right? Mhm! You'll look so beautiful pregnant, fuck—” One of his hands moves up to your face, wiping a tear from your cheek. “Oh—oh, you'll be the prettiest momma”
His words push you over the edge. Your second orgasm hits, a rolling, endless wave that brings a scream from your throat. Your inner walls clamp around him, milking him dry, and with a broken shout, he soon follows you.
His thrusts become short, desperate jerks as he pours himself into you, hot and so fucking deep. You feel every pulse, every shudder of his release, your pussy swallows every spurt of semen that comes out of his cock, so much of it that it soon overflows, spilling a few globs of the hot milky liquid out.
Steve collapses on top of you, his full weight a welcome anchor, his face buried in your neck.
Afterwards, he doesn’t pull away. His cock stays plugged balls deep inside you as he lays on top of you, pressing a lazy kiss into your neck.
“Do you think it worked?” he asks after a brief moment of silence, snuggled up against your body, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your chest and one of his hands caressing your stomach affectionately.
“I’d be surprised if it didn’t work, honey,” you reply with a lazy smile on your lips, your eyes still closed as you focus on stroking his hair.
Steve lets out a breathy, contented hum, the sound vibrating through your chest. He shifts just enough to prop himself up on his elbows, looking down at you with a gaze so thick with affection it’s almost overwhelming.
His face is flushed, his hair a catastrophic mess of brown waves, and his eyes are shining with a quiet, domestic sort of triumph.
“Patrick fucking Miller,” he spits out the name as if it were deadly poison, humorless and rolling his eyes. “I’d like to see his face when he realizes I’m the one who knocked you up."
A giggle bursts from his mouth when you playfully smack his head.
in fact, you should've known he was playing a game the instant that text blinked onto your screen: pick your daughter up from his place, not school. a casual oops, totally forgot it was your day! that sent a shiver of unease down your spine.
what choice did you really have? the entire drive to that too-familiar house, your nerves were a tangled mess. pulling into the driveway, parking crookedly in your haste, the only thing screaming in your head was this used to be ours.
this small, unassuming house, a world away from the sterile grandeur of his old penthouse. the first grand gesture of your marriage had been this new place.
"the bigger the house," satoru had murmured against your bare skin that first night, "the further i'd have to be from you." so, your mornings had begun with tangled limbs and hurried kisses, and your evenings had ended in the same breathless way.
it had been the kind of dizzying happiness you foolishly thought would last forever. but then the cracks had started to show – the endless work trips, the hollow promises of things changing. he had gotten better, ironically, after the papers were signed.
satoru stood in the doorway, that infuriatingly charming, utterly knowing smirk plastered across his face. your gaze darted around the living room, a quick, almost desperate search. "where's she?" you asked, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.
his reply was a casual flick of his wrist. "oh, she's at a friend's."
a harsh scoff escaped you. arms crossed tight against your chest, you scoffed, "what? why? i drove all the way out here!"
"you were coming anyway," he purred, those soft puppy-dog eyes locking onto yours. "i can bring her back later. thought we could, you know… catch up."
"catch up?" you repeated, incredulous. "are you serious right now? we're not catching up, satoru. we're divorced."
but those eyes. they always had been your undoing. and somehow, against your better judgment, you found yourself agreeing to this ridiculous "catch-up." you'd pictured awkward small talk over lukewarm tea, maybe a stale cookie.
not this. not being bent in a cruel mating-press, his body a brutal, insistent press against yours, fucking you with a desperate hunger that stole your breath and any semblance of rational thought.
"god, it's been so fucking lo- long since i felt this," he grunted, his hips slamming into you with a possessive force that made you cry out. "this tight little cunt clenching - shit - around me like that."
"ah, 'toru," you gasped, your fingers digging into the hard muscles of his back, clinging on for dear life.
"been even longer si- since i heard you say my name like that." his sweaty bangs were plastered to his forehead, a flush creeping up his neck. his pace was relentless, each thrust deeper, harder, a raw, primal need driving him. he hadn't touched anyone since you, didn't want to.
tears streamed down your face, a messy mix of pain and something dangerously close to pleasure. and that bastard, your soon-to-be-not-ex-husband-anymore, thought you looked beautiful. his thick cock stretched you, filled you completely, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.
"did you miss this, huh?" he muttered, his voice thick with lust. "because i fucking did. bet- bet no one else makes you feel like this."
a choked whine escaped you as his teeth sank into your shoulder, a stinging sensation hitting. you can't think of a response, literally. you can't even think of your own name - you can't remember.
all that mattered was the way he was making you feel, the dizzying spiral of sensation. and in the name of "catching up," he makes you come, at least half a dozen shattering orgasms ripping through you before he finally relented, burying his face in the space between your tits.
he looked up at you, panting, a triumphant smile playing on his lips. "so… about moving back in?"
strictly 18+ only // content warnings should be on each link
forewarning: obviously the voices aren’t going to sound exactly like the actors / characters so I’ve gone more for how the vibes and attitudes fit with the characters, you’ll just have to use your imagination tbh my darlings!!
these are intended for female / afab listeners
other than that go wild and happy listening my loves
Eddie Munson
cute goofy Eddie learning to dom
blowing shy virgin Eddie at a party
switch! Eddie wants to make you feel good
waking you up by eating you out
more switch! Eddie, dom then sub
pegging tied up Eddie
grinding on him whilst he works
Eddie being goofy and cuddly leading to a makeout session
getting fucked by the dungeon master
getting fucked by the dungeon master | part two
listening to Eddie jerk off
Steve Harrington
teasing you (fwb situation)
fucking you in a sundress in the middle of a park
jealous dom Steve
makeup sex with jealous Steve
Steve dirty talking and teasing you
voyeuristic Steve watching you get yourself off
Billy Hargrove
Billy gets you back for being a brat all day
putting you in your place (degradation)
Billy gets possessive when you wear your ex’s shirt
you get jealous so Billy reminds you you’re his
Billy’s jealous over your new roommate
Billy commanding and degrading you
Robin Buckley
friends to lovers, sharing a bed
shower sex with Robin
Robin wakes you up to fuck you
your first time with Robin
Robin helping you forget about your boyfriend
spending your day off in bed with Robin
experimenting, your first time with a girl
Robin worshipping your pussy
Nancy Wheeler
morning sex with Nancy
Nancy teaches you how to please her
more morning sex with Nancy
Nancy touching herself next to you until you wake up
Jonathan Byers
trying to be (soft) dom for the first time
needy sub Jonathan
first time with shy Jonathan
Jonathan isn’t getting the hint, so you take charge
riding devoted sub Jonathan after a stressful day
link to search website yourself
main masterlist // stranger things masterlist // stranger things audio list part two // stranger things audio list - other characters
p.s. I will keep adding more as and when I find them / when they’re sent to me
on that note, if you find any you think would fit the characters please do feel free to send them my way so I can add them to the list!!
kianamaiart
2087
annaxmalina
prguitarman
pixelskylines
turnnoffyourmind
