from being one of tame’s biggest fans to appearing in one of his videos to being the opener of his tour to being shouted out by kevin himself AND to playing on stage with him and one of his best friends he truly deserves it all :’))))))
Steve was relentless. His thrusts were brutal as he bullied every thick inch of himself into your swollen cunt. He had you folded beneath him, thighs pushed up against your chest in a mating press. Each slide of his cock inside your walls was searingly tight; and when you clenched around him his head dropped forward into your neck, grunting at the feeling.
"Yeah you just— oh sh-shit— take it so good for me, baby," he growled, lips beginning to suck on the sensitive skin below your ear. "Fucking perfect for me."
Your nails raked down his chest, as you released a series of unintelligible whines.
Steve dropped his forehead to yours, laughing softly. "S’that right, baby?”
He slipped one strong arm behind your back, flipping you on top of him without pulling out. The change in position caused his cock to spear even deeper, punching a guttural scream from you. You crumpled forward and steve’s hands shot out to catch you.
"Stevie, Stevie, Stevie!" you babbled, panicking at the sudden pressure deep inside. Your pussy spasmed frantically around his hard cock as you tried to push yourself up, trembling arms buckling as tears began to leak down your cheeks. "Too deep! Too— nghhsteve!"
Steve rushed to reach one arm around your waist and the other under your ass, sliding you higher up his chest and cock until only the tip was inside you. He rubbed firm, grounding strokes over your back and placed chaste kisses over the swell of your breast where it rested by his cheek.
Your chest heaved, "m’sorry, Stevie. Just made me— just so fucking big."
"I know, I know," his hand found your cheek, pulling you down to pepper kisses to the flushed skin. "Made you jump a bit didn't it, sweet girl."
"Mhmm," you nodded, cheek still pressed against his lips. "I can take it though. Promise." You held your hand out to him, pinky extended in offering.
Steve linked his pinky with your's, bringing it to his lips. "I know you can, honey. Y'always take it so well. Always being my best girl, aren't you. C'mon, duchess, say it for me."
"'I’m your best girl," you smiled, leaning down to kiss him.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, lips pressing to his cheek as you began rolling your hips against his. Your kisses trailed down, tongue running over his neck as your hips began rising and falling.
Steve’s head tipped back against the headboard, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. His jaw clenched as he choked out, "holy shit.”
"Love you so much, Stevie."
Steve's hand curled into your hair, giving the tendrils a sharp tug as he chased your lips. His tongue pressed against the seam, slipping inside as your mouth opened in a shrill moan when he thrust his hips up suddenly. His hand slipped round to your throat and squeezed.
TW : age gap, arguing, petty revenge, honestly kinda fucked up lol, manipulation
Words : 3.6k
A/N : i have this thing in my head where reader is batshit craaaazy and does the most crazy shit but idk if it's too much 😩
You watched every ounce of color drain from his face. His grip tightened so hard around the radio that his knuckles turned white. “Gator…” You started, but he didn’t answer. He was staring straight ahead through the windshield, breathing just a little too fast. You had never seen him look like that before, purely panicked. “Gator.” You repeated more softly and he finally blinked.
“Fuck.” Barely a whisper. He let go of the radio before dragging both hands over his face. “No, no, no…” Your heart sank a little seeing him like this.
“It’s okay.”
“It isn’t.” His voice was sharper this time. He leaned back against the seat, shaking his head. “I’ve spent twenty years making sure nobody ever catches me lying.” A bitter laugh escaped him when he looked at you. “And then you show up and I turn into a damn idiot.” You stared at him, feeling like a knife twisted in your chest.
“What ?” He didn't answer, instead, he grabbed his phone, already scrolling through his contacts. “So that's what this is ? I'm the reason you're an idiot ?” His head snapped toward you.
“I didn't say…”
“You literally just did.” You replied.
“I’m trying to think.” He replied, and you shook your head.
“You don't get to make me feel guilty because you decided to come to me Gator.”
“I know I decided to come.” He snapped, clenching his jaw and rubbing a hand over his mouth. After a long moment, Gator closed his eyes. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean it like that.” You didn't answer, crossing your arms, so he kept going. “I meant… I've never lost my head over anybody before.”
“Mmmh.” Was all you replied.
“I don't make sloppy mistakes like this usually, but today you said you wanted to see me and … I just left without thinking this through.” His fingers drummed nervously against his thigh. The anger in your chest eased just enough for you to look at him again, but he still wasn't looking back, lost inside his own head.
Gator stared at the dashboard for another long moment, leg bouncing restlessly while he pinched the bridge of his nose. Every possibility that crossed his mind seemed worse than the last. Finally, he let out a slow breath. “I'll figure something out.” You searched his face.
“How ?” He shook his head.
“Don't worry about that.”
“Gator…” Before you could say anything else, he leaned across the seat, his hand finding your cheek and he kissed you slowly, as if he wanted you to remember that none of this was your fault. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours.
“I'll fix it.” A small smile appeared despite the panic still lingering in his eyes. “That's my problem, not yours.” His thumb brushed lightly across your cheek one last time before he climbed out of your car. You watched him walk toward his patrol truck without looking back.
The engine started and a few seconds later, he was gone. You stayed exactly where you were, alone in the backseat of your own car. You had never seen him panic like that. What if he couldn't fix this ? Would that mean that he could finally be yours ? Deep inside, you didn’t want him to fix it.
You drove home, and once inside, you headed straight upstairs, closed your bedroom door and collapsed onto your bed without even changing. Almost automatically, you unlocked your phone. Your conversation with Gator was still open, so you stared at the screen for nearly a minute before finally typing.
- : Did everything turn out okay ?
You hit send and locked your phone, before unlocking to again to open instagram, doomscrolling aimlessly. Every couple of minutes, your thumb drifted back to your messages, but you had no notifications. Eventually, your eyelids grew heavy, your phone slipped onto the mattress beside you as you fell asleep without realizing it.
When you opened your eyes again, the sunlight had shifted across your bedroom wall. You had been asleep for almost two hours. Your hand immediately reached for your phone, but still nothing, not even a read receipt. A small wave of annoyance replaced the worry.
You tossed your phone onto the bed, pissed off and hurt all at once.
The next morning, you arrived at the Sheriff's Office a few minutes before eight. Like every morning, your eyes instinctively wandered toward Gator's office, it was empty but you didn’t think much of it as he was often out first thing in the morning. You settled behind your desk and buried yourself in paperwork.
The hours passed, every time the front doors opened, your head lifted automatically. Every patrol truck that pulled into the parking lot caught your attention, but none of them were his.
By two o'clock, an uncomfortable knot had settled in your stomach because he still wasn't there. You finally stood and walked toward one of the deputies organizing reports. “Hey.” He looked up.
“Yeah sweetheart ?”
“Do you know where the Sheriff is ? I need him for something.” It was a lie, but he frowned.
“Didn't you hear ?” He took yesterday afternoon and today off.” You blinked.
“The whole day ?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Don't know why, he just said he wouldn't be in.”
“Oh.” You forced a small smile. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” You walked back toward your desk, your stomach suddenly feeling heavier. Your mind ended up wandering towards Ben, if anyone knew what was going on, it was probably him. You got your phone out, but suddenly realized just asking him about his father would probably sound strange, so you stopped yourself, thinking.
- : Hey Ben ! How are you ?
After a brief hesitation, you typed another message.
- : Would you be free for a phone call tonight ? I'd love to talk to you !
His reply came almost immediately.
Ben : I’m okay, of course, I’d love that :)
Good, you couldn’t wait until tonight when you’d finally get your answers.
By the time you got home, you'd spent the entire drive convincing yourself not to overthink it, maybe there really was a simple explanation. You barely kicked off your shoes before heading upstairs, shutting your bedroom door behind you. You sat cross-legged on your bed, stared at Ben's contact for a second, then pressed call. He answered almost immediately.
“Hey.” He said, and a smile crept onto your face.
“Hi Ben.”
“How was work ?” You let out a quiet sigh.
“Busy.”
“When isn't it ?” You laughed softly.
“Fair point. How's your week been so far ?” You asked, and he hummed.
“Pretty good. mom's been making me help around the house all week. She randomly decided the garage needed to be cleaned, but with a cast it ain’t easy. She mostly stood there pointing at things while I carried boxes.” The conversation drifted naturally after that. He told you about an old truck he had been thinking about buying to replace the one he crashed, about a neighbor whose dog kept escaping its yard or about Charlotte trying a new recipe that everyone pretended to like.
You listened. Or... at least, you tried to. Every few minutes your mind wandered to the fact that you still havent heard from Gator. The whole point of this conversation was to get info about where the hell he’s been, but you’ve been listening to the most random shit ever.
You realized Ben had been talking for several minutes without you absorbing a single word, so you rolled your eyes to yourself, deciding that enough time had passed so it wouldn’t be suspicious for you to ask. “So... your dad wasn't at work today.”
“Oh, yeah I know.” His tone stayed perfectly casual. You waited but he didn’t elaborate, you had to dig yourself.
“Was he sick or something ?”
“No.” A smile slipped into his voice. “A few weeks ago was mom and dad's twentieth wedding anniversary, but they never really got to celebrate it.” Your stomach tightened. “So dad planned this whole surprise trip.”
“A trip ?”
“Yeah. He organized everything in complete secret. He apparently left work early yesterday to finish getting everything ready.” You stared blankly at the wall in front of you while Ben continued, completely oblivious. “Like, he left the station completely in a rush, and this story’s actually so funny listen to this, he told his colleagues that mom needed help urgently to be able to leave, but he forgot his badge home that morning, so mom actually went down to the station to give it to him while he was gone, that’s hilarious.” He started laughing, but you didn’t.
“Oh she did ? Yeah, that’s funny.” You said, without any spark in your voice. Ben was still laughing, still oblivious.
“Yeah, he apparently rushed home after that, packed everything, picked mom up at the station telling her about the surprise trip and they hit the road yesterday evening, and they’re getting back tonight.”
“Oh…” You forced yourself to keep your voice steady. “That's... sweet.”
“I didn't think dad had it in him.” Ben said, laughing while you forced out a small laugh.
“So where did they go ?”
“No clue. He said it was supposed to stay a surprise until mom saw it.” You started to feel your blood boiling simply imagining him with her right now. Were they kissing ? Fucking ? Was he thinking about you ?
“Mom called me this morning, though, she sounded so happy.” Ben kept going, you didn’t answer because you were on the verge of breaking something. “She kept talking about the hotel.” Your jaw clenched even harder.
“The hotel ?”
“Yeah, she said dad booked this really nice place, I don't remember the name but apparently there was a spa and this huge room overlooking a lake.” He laughed. “She kept going on about breakfast being delivered to the room and she said dad had flowers waiting when they arrived.” You closed your eyes and started thinking about all the different ways you would make him pay for it when he came back.
“And then tonight they're stopping at some fancy restaurant before heading home.” Ben sounded genuinely happy for them, which made it even worse. You anger wasn’t even rational, he was married of course he would do shit like this, but all you could think about was Gator fucking you in your car yesterday. And now apparently he was gone to spend two days playing the perfect husband.
You barely heard the rest of what Ben was saying, only catching fragments until he stopped talking, making you pay attention again. “Umm maybe I could ask him again the name of the hotel when he comes back and we could also spend a week-end there … together ?” His voice rose at the end, letting you know it was a question, but your thoughts were spiraling so you didn’t really thought about your answer.
“Yeah, whatever you want.” You could almost feel him smiling through the phone, and you rolled your eyes when you realized what you just did, maybe you gave him too much hope. “Ugh I gotta go Ben, talk later okay ? Bye !” You didn’t give him time to answer before hanging up. You were clenching your fists so hard, Gator was definitely going to pay for this.
The next morning, you were already at your desk when the front doors of the Sheriff's Office swung open. You didn't need to look up, recognizing the sound of his boots before you even saw him. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught him glancing toward your desk, smiling just enough to make the corner of his mouth lift, the kind that had become reserved for you.
You didn't look up and kept reading the report in front of you. His footsteps slowed, the smile disappeared and you could almost feel him staring at you. A deputy called from across the station. “Sheriff ?” Gator's attention snapped away.
“Yeah ?”
“Can you come take a look at this ?”
“Be right there.” He looked toward you one last time before disappearing into the bullpen.
The rest of the morning passed quietly as you hurried yourself in these damn paperwork. Every now and then, you heard his voice somewhere in the station, but refused to acknowledge it. Around mid-morning, one of the deputies walked past your desk carrying a stack of files, making you look up. “Hey.” He stopped.
“Yeah ?”
“Could you do me a favor ?”
“Sure.” He smiled at you and you held out the folder you had been working on.
“Could you leave this on the Sheriff's desk ? It just needs his signature.” He reached for it without hesitation.
“No problem sweetheart.”
“Thanks.” You watched him disappear into Gator's office then lowered your eyes back to your computer.
Twenty minutes later, the deputy stepped back out. As he walked away, another figure appeared in the doorway of the office, Gator. He wasn't looking at the deputy, he was looking at you, eyebrows pulled together with confusion written all over his face. You knew he was there, you could feel his eyes on you. Still, you didn't look up, your fingers continued moving across the keyboard. After a few seconds, he quietly disappeared back into his office.
It was almost noon when a shadow fell across your desk. You already knew who it was, so you just kept typing. A second passed, then another before he cleared his throat. You didn't react, letting the clicking of your keyboard filling the silence. Finally, he spoke. “You wanna grab lunch with me ?”
“Busy.” Was your only reply, not letting your eyes leave the screen. There was a few seconds of silence before you heard him move. He leaned forward, resting both hands on your desk. His voice dropped low enough that no one else could hear.
“What the fuck's wrong with you ?” Your fingers never stopped moving but you didn't answer, and didn’t even acknowledge the question. He stared at you, waiting, but you gave him nothing, just typing as if he wasn’t even there.
A sharp crack echoed through the room as his palm hit your desk once, not hard enough to damage anything but just hard enough to make a few heads turn. “Whatever.” He straightened up and for another second, he looked at you as if trying to figure out what had happened. Then he shook his head. “Jesus Christ.”
He turned around and walked away. Only when his office door clicked shut did you finally stop typing. You definitely weren’t done giving him a hard time.
The afternoon dragged by, and you hadn't seen Gator once since he walked away from your desk, not that you were looking for him either, at least, that's what you kept telling yourself. Your eyes drifted toward the clock hanging above the bullpen, less than thirty minutes of work left.
You exhaled quietly, one more report then you could finally go home. You were halfway through proofreading the last incident report of the day when a deputy slowed as he walked past your desk. “Hey.” You looked up. “The Sheriff wants to see you.” You raised an eyebrow.
“Does he ?”
“Yeah.” He grimaced. “And... I'd go now if I were you.”
“Why ?”
“He's been in a terrible mood all afternoon.” He leaned in slightly, whispering now. “Like... really terrible.” A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. “I wouldn't keep him waiting.” You rolled your eyes.
“Thanks.” He gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before disappearing back into the bullpen. You looked toward Gator's office, the blinds were closed so you couldn’t see him moving. He could wait a little longer.
You calmly finished rereading the report, corrected two spelling mistakes, attached the right file and organized the pile of folders on your desk before finally standing up. You walked across the station and when you reached his office, you didn't bother knocking, simply pushing the door open.
It slammed against the stopper with a loud bang and Gator visibly flinched. His head snapped up from the paperwork spread across his desk. You stood there, waiting when he slowly set his pen down, walked past you and clicked the lock behind the door. He turned back to face you. “What the fuck's wrong with you today ?”
You looked at him for a second, already feeling your blood boiling but keeping your voice extra calm, for now at least. “Enjoyed your romantic getaway ?” For a few seconds, confusion replaced irritation.
“…What ?”
“You heard me.” He stared.
“How do you know about that?” A bitter laugh escaped you.
“Ben.” Was all you replied, and his eyebrows shot up.
“You're still talking to my son ?” You looked at him in disbelief.
“That's your concern ?”
“I asked you a question.” He said, voice sharp.
“And I don't really care.” You crossed your arms. “That's not the point.” He studied your face, realization began creeping into his expression.
“…You've been angry because of that ?”
“You disappeared and I learn that it’s because you’re on a fucking romantic getaway with your wife. So don’t stand there acting confused.” Your voice stayed low so no one else in the station would hear you.
“I didn't disappear, I just couldn't answer.”
“You couldn’t answer a simple text but you had plenty of time to book a hotel, right.” He opened his mouth to reply but you didn’t let him, way too angry to let him talk right now. “Flowers ? A spa ?” He frowned.
“What…”
“A lake view ? Breakfast in bed ? Wow, you really went all out huh ?” His jaw tightened.
“You don't know what you're talking about.”
“No ?” You took a step closer. “Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you kissed me, fucked me in my own car and panicked when your wife was there. Then you ignored every single one of my messages and you went off to play perfect husband.” You said, and his voice sharpened when he replied.
“I wasn't playing anything.”
“Oh, right. You just happened to organize the sweetest anniversary trip imaginable in record time, how lucky.” You saw the way his fists clenched, letting you know you were really pissing him off.
“You perfectly know why I did that.” His patience finally cracked. “You think I wanted to be there ?” You shrugged.
“I don't know. Did you enjoy it ?” He stared at you, completely dumbfounded. “Did you enjoy pretending everything was perfect ?”
“You're twisting…”
“Did you hold her hand ? Tell her she looked beautiful like you told me ? Did you kiss her ?” He looked genuinely stunned.
“You don't get to ask me that.” He replied.
“Why not ?” You got even closer, so close you could feel his ragged breath on your face. “Did you fuck her ?” He visibly flinched, as if he couldn't quite believe what had just come out of your mouth.
“You're unbelievable.”
“So that's a yes ?” You replied, and his eyes widened but he didn’t answer. “Well ?” His jaw tightened.
“I'm not answering that.” You let out a short, bitter laugh.
“You owe me an answer.” You said.
“I don't owe you shit.” The words slipped out before he could stop them, and the second they did, he regretted them. You nodded slowly.
“Right, so that's how this is.” He ran a frustrated hand over his face.
“That's not what I meant, fucking hell baby you know that’s not what I meant.” He was getting frustrated now, not really knowing how to get himself out of this situation.
“Then answer the question.” He looked away and you got even closer to him. “Look at me.” He didn’t, so you were getting frustrated too. “Gator, look at me.” His eyes reluctantly met yours. “What happened on that trip ? Did. You. Fuck. Her ?” You emphasized each word, scared of what the answer might be now. He shook his head slightly, knowing he was trapped.
Gator closed his eyes and sighed loudly. He spoke so quietly you almost didn't hear him. “…There was... intimacy.” Your stomach and your heart dropped in your chest at the same time. You started to walk away but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward him, flushed against his body.
“I didn’t fuck her, she just … sucked my cock.” As if that made anything better. You tried to walk away again but his grip on you was too strong. “Baby, be fucking for real for a second. I organized this fucking trip because I almost got caught, that’s the first thing that came to my mind. I know the guy who owned the hotel and just asked for a favor.” He rubbed a hand across his jaw, his grip on you still strong. You didn’t reply, you couldn’t believe how angry that made you, but at the same time, he had a point.
He kept going. “I’m married baby, before you came around I had been begging my wife for any sort of intimacy for months, don’t you think it would’ve been weird if I refused that ? I had to protect what we had.”
“Protect what ? Me ? You ? Your marriage ? Your fucking reputation ? Which one is it Gator ?” Deep down, you knew your anger was irrational, but you just couldn’t help it. He grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him.
“I almost fucking said your name when I came.” He said, and you froze, in a wicked way it made your heart swell with pride. But, you were still hurt and bitter, and you wanted to attack too, so you said the first thing that came to mind.
“I guess I have to suck your son’s dick now, just so we’re even.”
general taglist : @proooof @maaaachiii @us3r4682 @delphinemix @cecesblogg
Summary:
After escaping the alley, Steve, Robin, Hopper, and you take refuge at Hopper's cabin. For the first time in a long time, Steve finally lets someone see the weight he's been carrying—and realizes he doesn't have to carry it alone.
A/N:
Okay... so... this was supposed to be Part 3. 😅
Then I kept writing.
And writing.
And apparently my brain decided Steve Harrington deserved an emotional therapy session before the chaos. 🤣
Tumblr definitely did not appreciate the word count, so Part 3 is officially becoming Part 3A and Part 3B.
I promise I'm not trying to torture you (well... maybe just a little 😈).
Thank you all for being so patient and for loving these two as much as I do. 🖤
Hopper kept his eyes fixed on the road, unusually quiet. In the backseat, you sat beside Steve, close enough that your shoulders nearly touched.
Dried blood stained his sleeve. Every few minutes, he flexed his injured hand with the smallest wince, his gaze drifting instinctively toward the passing tree line.
Even now...
He was still standing watch.
Without thinking, your fingers brushed lightly against the cut on his arm.
Steve flinched.
Not because it hurt.
Because he'd forgotten you were there.
His eyes found yours for only a second before looking away again.
The silence between you no longer felt angry.
It felt fragile.
Eventually Hopper turned onto a narrow gravel road, stopping outside a weathered cabin tucked deep within the woods.
"My place," he said, cutting the engine.
Steve reached for the door before pausing to look back at you.
"Can you walk?"
A laugh almost escaped you.
Only Steve Harrington would ask if you could walk while blood was still soaking through his own sleeve.
"I think so."
He nodded once and stepped aside.
Then he fell into place just behind you.
Close enough that if you stumbled...
He'd catch you.
Just like he always had.
The gravel crunched beneath your shoes as you followed Hopper toward the cabin. He reached the porch first, unlocking the weathered front door before stepping aside.
"Come on."
The cabin was small and warm, smelling faintly of pine, coffee, and wood smoke.
It should've felt safe.
Instead...
It felt like borrowed time.
Hopper disappeared into the kitchen while Robin lingered near the living room.
Steve stayed by the door.
For a moment, you thought he was simply exhausted.
Then you noticed he hadn't relaxed.
Not even here.
"...Steve."
His attention snapped to you immediately.
"You don't have to stand watch."
For a second, he simply looked at you.
"I know."
But he didn't move.
The words came easily.
His body didn't believe them.
Before either of you could say anything else, Robin returned carrying a faded metal first aid kit and set it on the coffee table.
"I figured one of you was going to be stubborn," she said. "Turns out I guessed right."
Steve glanced at the blood soaking through his sleeve before giving a small shrug.
"I've had worse."
"I'm sure you have," Robin replied. "That doesn't make this okay."
Steve looked ready to argue.
Instead, his eyes found yours.
You hadn't been staring at the fresh wound.
You'd been staring at the older scars scattered across his forearm.
Scars you'd never noticed before.
Or maybe...
Scars he'd simply gotten better at hiding.
Robin followed your gaze.
The teasing disappeared from her expression.
She looked toward Hopper.
"I'm gonna make coffee."
"At midnight?" he called.
"I don't think any of us are sleeping tonight."
Hopper glanced between the two of you before giving a small nod.
"Yeah... probably not."
Without another word, they disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the cabin wrapped in a silence that suddenly felt much louder.
You stepped toward the couch, opening the first aid kit as Steve lingered by the door for another moment. Eventually, he crossed the room and lowered himself onto the worn cushions with a quiet wince.
You noticed.
This time...he let you.
Kneeling in front of him, you sorted through the supplies before reaching for his arm.
Steve instinctively pulled it back.
The movement was so quick, so automatic, it was as if he'd spent so many years patching himself together alone that he no longer knew how to let anyone else try.
Your hand lingered between you.
"Steve."
He kept his eyes on the floor.
"You don't have to do this."
There wasn't any stubbornness left in his voice.
Only shame.
You gave the smallest shake of your head.
"I know."
His eyes finally lifted to yours.
"But I'm going to."
For a long moment, neither of you moved.
Then, slowly...
Steve held his arm out.
You cleaned the deepest cut as gently as you could.
The antiseptic stung.
Steve hissed through his teeth.
Your hand froze.
"Sorry."
"Don't be."
His voice was quiet.
"Keep going."
You swallowed hard and reached for another cotton pad.
Neither of you spoke.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable anymore.
It simply existed between you.
Your fingers brushed an older scar near his elbow.
You frowned.
"When did this happen?"
Steve followed your gaze before letting out a quiet laugh that held no humor.
"That one?"
You nodded.
"I honestly don't remember."
Your eyes lifted.
"You don't remember?"
He gave a small shrug.
"There've been... a lot."
The words hit like a punch.
He'd said them so casually.
As though surviving nightmare after nightmare had become normal.
As though forgetting which monster left which scar wasn't worth remembering.
You carefully secured a clean bandage over the fresh wound.
"There."
Steve looked down.
"...Thanks."
Your hands lingered around his forearm for just a second longer.
Only when you started to pull away did his fingers gently close around your wrist.
Not enough to stop you.
Just enough to ask you not to go.
You looked up.
The guarded look he'd worn all night had begun to crack, leaving behind nothing but exhaustion... and regret.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke.
His thumb brushed lightly across your wrist.
Almost imperceptibly.
But after everything that had happened...it felt impossibly loud.
You searched his face, trying to make sense of everything swirling behind his eyes. Guilt. Relief. Exhaustion. Fear. It was all there, tangled together until you couldn't tell where one emotion ended and the next began.
His lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to say something.
He didn't.
You weren't sure either of you knew where to begin.
The sound of a cabinet closing broke the silence.
Steve slowly released your wrist, letting his hand fall back into his lap just as Hopper returned carrying two mugs of coffee. Robin followed behind with a pair of blankets draped over one arm.
"You look freezing," Robin said, wrapping one around your shoulders before tossing the other to Steve.
"Thanks," he muttered.
"Don't make it weird."
For the first time that night, the corner of Steve's mouth twitched into the faintest smile.
It disappeared almost as quickly as it came.
Hopper settled into the armchair across from the couch.
"Get some rest if you can," he said quietly. "Tomorrow we'll figure out what comes next."
No one answered.
Because none of you had any idea what tomorrow looked like.
The fire crackled softly between stretches of silence.
Finally, Hopper looked at Steve.
"I keep thinking about the alley."
His shoulders stiffened.
"When you ran after her..." he paused.
"I thought I was watching you die."
Steve looked away.
"It wasn't that bad."
Hopper let out a dry laugh.
"Kid."
Steve frowned.
"You were bleeding through your shirt before you even reached her."
Silence.
"And if we'd been even a minute later..."
Hopper didn't finish.
He didn't have to.
Steve stared into his untouched coffee.
Finally—
"She was alone."
His voice barely carried across the room.
"I wasn't leaving her there."
Your breath caught.
Robin's eyes softened. "Steve..."
He shook his head.
"I didn't think."
A humorless laugh escaped him.
"...Actually, I did."
His eyes found yours.
"I just knew it didn't matter."
The words settled over the room like smoke.
Somewhere along the way...
Steve Harrington had decided your life was worth more than his own.
You hadn't asked him to make that choice.
You never would've wanted him to.
But looking at him now...
You knew he'd make it again.
Every single time.
Finally, you broke the silence.
"I'm not forgetting that."
Steve looked up.
"You should."
"Why?"
He let out a slow breath.
"Because it wasn't a choice."
He searched for words.
"I saw you..." His voice caught. "I didn't think about me."
Robin shook her head.
"You idiot."
The smallest smile tugged at Steve's mouth.
"Yeah."
"No," she said, her own voice beginning to shake. "I mean you're an actual idiot."
The smile faded.
"You don't get to decide you're expendable."
Steve opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
For once...
He didn't have an answer.
You studied him for a long moment before speaking quietly.
"When was the last time someone took care of you?"
The question caught him completely off guard.
"...What?"
"I don't mean after you got hurt."
You held his gaze.
"I mean really took care of you."
Steve stared back at you.
You watched him search his memory.
Actually search.
Seconds passed.
Then he looked away.
"...I don't know."
Your heart broke.
Not because he didn't have an answer.
Because he genuinely couldn't remember.
No one spoke.
Steve shifted uncomfortably beneath the attention.
"I'm okay."
"Steve."
This time Hopper's voice was quiet.
"You're really not."
Steve looked down at his hands.
Robin's voice was barely above a whisper.
"You know what the worst part is?"
Steve looked over.
"None of this surprised me."
His brow furrowed.
"What do you mean?"
"The way you ran in there. The way you acted like getting hurt didn't matter."
She gave a small shake of her head.
"You've been doing that for years."
Steve looked away.
"You don't get to shrug this off anymore." She said.
Silence settled over the cabin.
Finally...Steve spoke so quietly you almost missed it.
"...I didn't know anyone noticed."
The words hit every person in the room.
He hadn't been hiding because he wanted attention.
He'd been hiding because he truly believed no one saw.
Steve sat motionless, his gaze fixed on the floor.
You couldn't stop looking at him.
All those injuries you'd accepted with a laugh.
Every bruise he'd dismissed.
Every cut he'd hidden behind an easy smile.
You'd believed him.
Everyone had.
Because Steve Harrington had always made it so easy to believe he was okay.
Until tonight.
Hopper set his mug down.
"Kid..."
Steve looked up.
"You don't have to carry the whole damn world by yourself…..you never did."
The words lingered in the room.
Steve looked almost... confused.
As though the idea had never occurred to him.
Slowly, your hand found his.
He tensed for only a fraction of a second before relaxing beneath your touch.
His fingers settled naturally beneath yours.
Neither of you spoke.
Some things couldn't be answered with words.
Only by staying.
Steve didn't pull away.
He simply sat there, as though he were afraid that if he moved, the moment might disappear.
Your thumb drifted across his scarred knuckles.
"...I'm sorry."
You frowned.
"For what?"
"For all of it."
He gestured weakly between the two of you.
"For shutting you out. For lying. For making you think I didn't..." His voice faltered. "...trust you."
"Steve..."
"I wasn't trying to push you away."
His eyes lifted to yours.
"I was trying to keep you out of this."
"You don't get to decide that by yourself."
The words came gently.
Steve closed his eyes.
"I know."
Somewhere between the alley...
The truck ride...
And sitting here watching him struggle to remember the last time anyone had cared for him...
Your anger had become something else.
Understanding.
It didn't erase the hurt.
But it changed it.
You squeezed his hand.
"Next time..."
Steve opened his eyes.
"...let me be there."
He held your gaze for a long moment.
"Okay."
The single word lingered between you.
For the first time...Steve had stopped fighting the idea that he didn't have to carry everything alone.
Across the room, Robin caught Hopper's eye.
Without a word, Hopper pushed himself to his feet.
"I'm gonna put another log on the fire."
"I'll help," Robin said immediately.
Neither of them fooled anyone.
Within seconds, the room fell quiet, leaving the two of you alone.
Steve let out a slow breath.
"...Robin's never gonna let me live this down."
A soft laugh escaped you.
"Probably not."
"She's gonna weaponize this forever."
"Definitely."
He huffed out another quiet laugh.
You smiled.
"There you are."
Steve blinked.
"...What?"
"You laughed."
His expression softened.
"...I didn't realize."
For a long moment he simply looked at you.
As though he were waiting for you to change your mind.
To pull your hand away.
You didn't.
His shoulders sagged beneath the weight he'd been carrying for far too long.
"I don't know how to do this."
"...Do what?"
A tired smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"This."
He looked down at your joined hands.
"You."
He let out a quiet breath.
"I know how to fight."
"I know how to run toward monsters."
"I know how to pretend I'm not scared."
His smile disappeared.
"But this..."
He swallowed.
"I don't know how to let someone stay without wondering if loving me is going to get them killed."
Your heart ached.
Steve looked up.
"And I'm not asking you to figure it out tonight.”
You shifted a little closer.
His eyes searched yours.
"I just want you to allow me the chance to decide for myself. That’s all I’m asking. You don't have to carry this by yourself anymore."
Steve didn't argue.
He didn't explain.
He simply nodded.
One quiet surrender.
Not to Vecna.
To trust.
Your eyes filled with tears all over again. A soft laugh escaped you as you wiped at them with the back of your hand.
Steve huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head.
"To think all it took was someone refusing to give up on me."
Before you could answer, Hopper cleared his throat from the kitchen.
Neither of you had realized he'd stepped back into the room.
"I hate interrupting..."
Robin looked at him.
"No, you don't."
"...Fair."
The corner of Hopper's mouth twitched before his expression turned serious.
"But we've got a problem."
The room changed instantly.
Steve was on his feet before Hopper had even finished speaking.
Every instinct he'd just begun to lower snapped back into place.
Hopper looked directly at him.
"We lost radio contact."
The smile vanished from Steve's face.
"With who?"
Hopper didn't answer.
He didn't have to.
Steve already knew.
His stomach dropped.
"Dustin."
Hopper gave a slow nod.
"He was supposed to check in twenty minutes ago."
The cabin fell silent.
Steve was already reaching for the bat leaning against the wall.
You stood too.
Steve turned back toward you.
For a split second, the fear returned to his face.
The old instinct.
Leave her here.
Keep her safe.
You saw the thought cross his mind before he ever spoke.
Very quietly, you stood and walked over until you were standing in front of him.
"So..."
A tiny smile touched your lips.
"You gonna tell me to stay here?"
Steve let out a slow breath through his nose.
"I was thinking about it."
"I know."
Another beat.
"But?"
His shoulders rose and fell with a long exhale.
"But I promised."
His eyes met yours.
"...Together."
You smiled.
Not because the danger had disappeared.
Because, for the first time since he'd walked away from your apartment...
He was choosing to trust you.
Steve's fingers tightened around yours.
And for the first time all night...neither of you let go.
Emotional support and tissues are available in the comments. 😪🤧 Taglist: @lacywithdrawal, @bing72, @msdankworthpotter, @stoneyggirl2
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