noor

20 !

[noorgee]

I need this picture tattooed on the inside of my eyelids

[xpeachsunsidex]

Harrington Household Masterlist

Steve Harrington x Hargrove!Fem!Reader

About the AU:

I wrote this post, and then a request sparked the idea to build out the life of the six nuggets these two would have!

I'm thinking for now just keeping this series as request only, so if you have any, please feel free to send them in 🫶🏻

About the nuggets:

I don’t like giving names to kids in x reader imagines (just a personal preference - you can come up w/ what you’d like!!) but here’s what I’m thinking their ages are.

Steve & Reader started having their babes young, so they’re only like 38.

Boy - 17 years old

Girl - 16 years old

I’m thinking the reason for the next age gap between kids would be bc reader thought two was enough, but then the twins end up being a happy accident.

Boy & Girl Fraternal Twins (reader was twins w/ Billy so it runs in the fam) - 10 years old

Another age gap because four is already a lot, and then Max & Lucas start having kids of their own - which makes reader have insane baby fever that leads to…

Boy - 4 years old

Girl - 2 years old

In order from oldest to newest!

Summary: Steve's struggling to accept that his little girl has turned into a rebellious teenager. Link to read

Summary: Watching his little girl go through a breakup nearly crushes Steve's own heart. Link to read

Summary: When your oldest boy gets into one of the most prestigious music colleges in the nation but doesn't tell you and Steve - you spiral, and Steve's there to help pick up the pieces. Link to read

Summary: You and Steve navigate how to tell your girl where babies come from. Link to read

Link to my main masterlist if interested!

[swirledyouintoallmypoems]

SO HIGH SCHOOL MASTERLIST steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you’re jonathan byers’s best friend. you live in hawkins, indiana, and you know everyone in the small town. you work two jobs to help your mom with bills while also managing to be the top of your classes. everything is normal until the day will byers goes missing, and the world as you know it is flipped upside down. and because of that, you form an unlikely friendship with the ‘king’ of your high school, steve harrington.

tags/warnings: steve harrington x fem!reader, use of y/n, mostly canon-compliant reader insert (maybe a few minor changes here or there), swearing, fluff, angst, eventual smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to ??? to lovers, seasons 1-5, mentions of child abandonment/neglect, mentions of dead parents, minor eddie munson x fem!reader, reader lowkey has attachment/abandonment issues, minor miscommunication, i hate murray bauman, writing might be shit idk.

masterlist !

wattpad link , ao3 link

–

PART ONE – tell me ‘bout the first time you saw me chapter one chapter two chapter three

PART TWO – you know how to ball, i know aristotle chapter four chapter five chapter six chapter seven chapter eight

PART THREE – are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? chapter nine chapter ten chapter eleven chapter twelve chapter thirteen chapter fourteen chapter fifteen

PART FOUR – i want to find you in a crowd just to hide from you

PART FIVE – no one’s ever had me, not like you

EPILOGUE – you knew what you wanted and, boy, you got her

–

a/n: this series was originally posted on wattpad on christmas 2025, and i’m writing the last few chapters right now so i thought this was the best time to start posting it on here + ao3! idk i hope you guys like it. and don't worry, this series is basically completely written so i will still be focusing on writing other fics while posting this! more spidey steve is coming i promise you all.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added/removed): @karolinesvrsion @djopuppy @ophirei @redvelvetcupcke @notmily @jamietarttdodo @beaut1ful-stranger @kanabefairy @glittermermaid222 @glittrrx @boldlyfadingdinosaur @riddlersoupwrites @jamieexistss @marvelgirlie-4 @strangegirl26sff @dyanasaur @mortqlprojections @napofaprincess @dr0wsy-m00ns @rocklandhoax @foreverdjofan @lacywithdrawal @oohgeminii @imani4reading @angxlg0dz @sunflowergir62 @d4yanalav3nder00 @discodjo @nowprettybbyimrunning  @sugartalk-ing @hutaotao @carpetmumcher @peterthehorseisinhere @laufeysvalentine @harringtondarling @marcspectorondeeznuts @strawberryloveyy @onenightafewmoonsago @pzxielz @dwindella @lortheswiftie @exooojongdaeee @moonjellyfishie @jinxispunk @sloppyjoesandwich @percyjacksonsnosebleed @shautanashipman @exploding-bonbon

[dollinscent]

THE LIFE WE ALMOST HAD

original story ©

⋆˙⟡ link for characters & moodboards

introduction:

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

plot summary: you and steve have just gotten married and returned to hawkins, where excitement quickly turns into quiet tension. the town already knows you as the girl who married ‘king steve’, and the other women don’t hide their jealousy, making it hard for you to feel welcome or at peace. just when it starts to feel unbearable, you find comfort in three of steve’s closest friends — max, robin, and dustin — who slowly make hawkins feel like home. but as things begin to settle, a new fear takes hold: you might not be able to give steve the family he’s always dreamed of… and this time, it’s not something you can fix. still, love has a way of rewriting plan — and maybe, just maybe, hawkins isn’t done surprising you yet

genre: romance drama

themes/warnings: romance (newlyweds), angst, drama, infertility, comfort, friendship/found family

a/n: thank you so much, 🥝 ! i read the details you've sent me about the story <3 i'm very excited

chapters

⟢ (...)

[keer-y]

In The M a k i n g

• a Gator Tillman x f!reader ‘choose your own’ fanfic •

&&

tags: slow burn, friends to lovers, friends to enemies to lovers, childhood friends, mean gator, kinda mean reader also. tags will be added as this goes on!

tw/cw: gator typical foul language, underage drinking

a/n: thank you to @djob00bies for her immeasurable help with this. thank you to everyone who voted. thank you to everyone who will (hopefully) keep voting. this will be a fun experience for me and i hope you all enjoy the ride. and without further ado—

Part 1: The End

It’s the first snap that sets the alarm bells off in his head.

A metal folding table with red Solo cups, a game of beer pong mid-way through. Bodies in the background, not able to be made out. Sneakers amongst the cups and spilled beer. Your high top Converse sneakers. He’d recognize them anywhere. They’re covered in his handwriting.

The caption: “Gator Tillman has ED 💀💀💀💀💀💀”

Gator scowls at that, looking down at his crotch. He decidedly does not have ED. It’s never been an issue, actually, and he knows it never will be, ok? He’s fucking virile.

He checks who posted that particular snap. Josephina Schwartz. A fucking instigator if he ever met one, but she’s also never really taken seriously by anyone anyway, so he just puts his phone down and returns to the game he’d paused. He was just exploring the Commonwealth and he doesn’t really need the distractions especially when he could have sworn he just saw a deathclaw and Dogmeat is kind of going apeshit at something he hasn’t seen yet.

His phone buzzes again, and this time Gator pauses the game and drops the controller, because it’s his buddy Ralphie sending him a snap now, which holds slightly more merit in his eyes.

Gator taps the notification and lowers the volume immediately, because it’s loud at the party that he has chosen—sort of—not to attend. The choice was made for him, and even though he knows nobody really cares whether or not he got into college, he’s not going to go to the party that basically 98% of the graduating senior class is attending specifically to celebrate college admissions when he wasn’t admitted in the end.

He also hasn’t seen most of his classmates since the last day of school, when he was called down to the principal’s office (thanks to you) and sent home on senior day (again, thanks to you) after being told that he wasn’t allowed to attend prom later that night (strike three to you, thanks) or walk at graduation. And then, the lowest blow of all: the withdrawal of his college football scholarship. A fucking sweep. All thanks to you, babe.

But this is the last straw. He’s pretty sure of what he just saw and heard, but he fucking wastes his replay on Ralphie’s snap because he has to make absolutely sure.

The caption, which is basically the only thing he took in, says “somebody come get errrrrrrrrrrrrr” superimposed over a clip of you, standing on the beer pong table, the crowd of your classmates around you ooh-ing, aah-ing, and most assuredly hahaha-ing as they laugh at what you’re saying. Which is a little slurred, because you never could hold your liquor despite what you thought, but he manages to get the gist.

Your voice cuts through the ambient noise from Fallout 4 coming from his TV.

“Nonononono guys, no, one time—one time! Me and Gator were hooking up and—” you hiccup, which would be cute if he wasn’t fucking furious with you “—he couldn’t get it up.” You giggle, which makes his chest tighten. “He fucking couldn’t—” the clip ends there, but yeah, that was what he thought he’d heard you say.

Gator quickly saves his game, leaving Dogmeat mid-bark, then stands up and crosses to the mirror he has on the interior of his closet door. He looks fine, he supposes, for someone who hasn’t showered in a couple days because he missed all of the fun parts of being a graduating senior from high school and as a result has been wallowing. He’ll just jump in the shower quick, hose himself down, and then drive over to Millie’s house and set the fucking record straight. Because you’re a fucking liar, and he should have known it since the day you and your daddy showed up at the fucking sheriff station five years ago.

He doesn’t bother to slick his hair back after his shower—too time consuming and meticulous, he doesn’t need to look perfect even though you, very frustratingly, always do, and he just pulls on a pair of loose jeans and a thin hoodie, because it’s still early summer and it’s still a little chilly at night.

The drive to Millie’s is quick, because he doesn’t care about the speed limit and he’s the son of the sheriff—soon to be in the academy himself, which he also blames you for fully though deep down he knows it’s pretty much a 50/50 split between the two of you as to why he didn’t get into college (his grades and your…influence)—so it truly doesn’t matter if he gets pulled over. He skids to a stop out front of Millie’s, double parking on the deserted road she lives on, and shuts off the engine. A few kids smoking outside look his way, and when he opens the door, over the pulse of the bass of the music playing inside, he hears the snickers and jeers.

Gator makes his way up the front walkway, purposely avoiding eye contact with any of his classmates.

“Hey, Tillman!” Joey Milhouse calls, son of the only primary care physician on the outskirts of Lehigh. “You need viagra my man? My dad doles that shit out like cand—”

His taunt is cut off as Gator passes by him, catching him square on the jaw with his fist, sending Joey tumbling to the ground and shaking out his hand before he continues on up to the half-open front door. Most of the crowd outside laughs, some cheer, and a few gasp, hurrying to help Joey up, but he doesn’t make a move to follow Gator. He knows he’d lose ultimately, even if he won the fight. Tillman is a name that carries weight, and Gator relies on it pretty often, especially lately.

The music is louder inside as Gator pushes the door open the rest of the way. He’s been to Millie’s house before, so he knows where she usually puts the beer pong table: In the kitchen toward the back of the house. He winds his way through the crowd there, ignoring a few people making crude gestures at him or laughing, saying “Hey, it’s not a big deal G, it happens to every guy!” only to have someone beside them recite the mantra from Friends: “It’s not that common…” By the time he gets to the kitchen, he really fucking hates Rachel.

And he hates you, too. There you fucking are, bending over the kitchen counter, laughing so hard your face is all screwed up in that adorable way it always did when he made you laugh. He feels his chest tighten again, and he makes his way over to you, grabbing at your arm and pulling so hard you spill your drink all over the counter.

“What the fuck?” you shout before you even see it’s him. “Gator?” You look up at him, eyes wide, and then you clamp your hand over your mouth as you start laughing. At him. You’re not doing that great a job at hiding it, but then you’re not really trying either.

“What the fuck’re you doin’?” Gator says, glaring at you as much as he can, but you have glitter on your eyelids and your lips are shiny and the little macrame crop top you’re wearing is the same one that drove him crazy on the spring break road trip you two had taken before you decided to ruin his life.

“Um… it’s a party!” you say, raising your arms above your head and shouting “Woo!”

A few people in the kitchen who are paying attention laugh, and Gator looks around at them. There are way more eyes on him than he’s comfortable with, so he takes hold of your arm again and yanks you along behind him, ignoring you saying it hurts because he’s not gripping you that hard and you’re also not exactly trying to pull away from him. You’re matching his pace, actually.

He drags you into the backyard, which is even more crowded than the front, but it’s much more spread out. There are a few people sitting on the tractor that Millie’s dad keeps back there for his fields, and even more underneath the huge oak tree, the cherries of several cigarettes visible; one is even moving as whoever’s smoking it sits in the tire swing.

“Fuck you tellin’ people I can’t get it up fer?” Gator asks, and you actually have the audacity to look at him like you’re surprised he found out.

“What?” you ask, and he can’t tell if you’re playing dumb or you genuinely are drunk enough that you forgot.

“Fuckin’ Josephina posted on Snapchat about it,” Gator says, and you look betrayed, like you’d said what you’d said to a room full of your fellow teenagers in complete confidence. “And Ralphie sent me a video, so don’t pretend like I ain’t seen it.”

“Well,” you say, scoffing. “It’s not like it’s a lie.”

“It is a lie!” Gator says, and it’s so loud that a hush falls over the crowd. Even the tire swinger stops moving. “All you ever fuckin’ do is lie! Lied to your daddy about the time he caught us, lied to Principal Thiel about the senior prank, lied to me about—” he catches himself, because he sees, now, that everyone in the vicinity is watching you and even more people have spilled out of the house to observe, too. Many of them even have their phones up, recording this, putting it on Snapchat and Instagram and who knows what else.

“None of those things were lies, Gator,” you say, and he can tell, because he’s seen it many times before, that you’ve drunk just enough to be real and cutting while losing any inhibitions you have so you’ll say whatever comes to mind. You hold up your hand and lift a finger for each sentence you speak. “You couldn’t get hard that one time, it happened.”

Liar. I was just trying to— he thinks.

“It was your idea to steal the police cruiser and have sex behind the bowling alley when we were 15.”

Liar. You got the keys from your daddy’s pocket—

“You helped me with the senior prank.”

Liar. You didn’t tell me that was what you needed the paint for—

“And I meant it when I said I loved you.”

“Liar. If you loved me you wouldn’t drag me through half the shit you did! If you loved me you wouldn’t do this shit t’me!”

The crowd murmured around you both.

Oh. He’d said that one out loud.

“If you loved me it wouldn’t matter. What happened to ‘us against the world?’” you say back, and Gator wants to strangle someone. You, himself, either would probably be fine.

“That means you’re supposed to have my back too, you stupid bitch,” Gator says, and that’s the moment when he feels the crowd tipping from his side back over to yours. Because what you’d said was insane, but what he’d said was not only fucked up, it was just really uncalled for.

“Ew,” you say, curling your upper lip at him. “No wonder you can’t get into college with an attitude like that.”

“You fucking ruined my life,” Gator says, venom in every single word, even if he’s not sure he means it but for the melodrama. “Wish I never fucking met you.” And he definitely doesn’t mean that.

“Likewise,” you say. “And you’re a lousy fucking lay!” You turn to look at the back door. “Josephina, did you get that?” you ask, giggling.

Gator stands still, seething, watching as you turn on your heel and go back into the kitchen, his hands curled into fists at his sides.

Then he goes back to the front yard, avoiding entering the house again and just rounding the side of the house, hopping over the chainlink fence, and finds Joey Milhouse again. He suckerpunches him from behind, then once Joey turns around, he squares up for real, picking a fight that he doesn’t really care whether he wins or loses, because he just wants to feel something besides whatever the fuck he has going on inside about you. Love, lust, affection, hatred, pity, desperation, desire, fear, betrayal—it is simply too much. Focusing on the smooth crack of bone and the tear of skin is much easier, much more understandable than five years of bullshit and ecstasy courtesy of you, the girl he’d once thought was the love of his life and turned out to be his arch nemesis.

He drives home with a bloody nose and a busted lip, laughing as he rolls the window down, the air feeling colder than it was as it blew right through his open window, right through him, and when he checks out his bruised up face in the bathroom mirror, all he could do was laugh some more.

&&

When do we go next?

The senior prank debacle

The first time you lied about Gator

Voting ended onApr 30

i am NOT spying so this will be like a true choose your own. i will react when the poll ends and start writing after it does! 🙂‍↕️

taglist: @sunriseinhawkins @snoopyharrington @ghostlyriddles @souperbloom @sheisjoeschateau @morninglesss @cheugy-djobe @cpnsteverogers @nowandajenn @configurre @cecesblogg @britt-mf @harringtondarling @valentine-night @charismatickeery @charlston-chews @bearwithegg @s3xytosomeone

[imani4reading]

Heroes | Masterlist!

SUMMARY: An unexpected group of outcasts and nerds must come together to solve their small town’s mysteries, learning what it means to become found family and heroes.

PAIRING: Stranger Things x Fem!Adopted!Henderson!Reader

INTERACTIVE: This story is completely interactive! Place votes at the end of each chapter to dictate what decisions are made, romantic relationships (within the older teen group), friendships, and more! Every decision matters!!

A/N: Dates on chapters are subject to change, coming earlier if votes lean heavily one way, and chapters coming later if votes are tight.

WC: 143.9K (so far)

♫ We can be heroes, just for one day ♫

Suggestions/Ideas!

Dump all of your suggestions or ideas here! This story is interactive after all!!

Extra!

Find any extra posts I’ve made for Heroes here!

Trailer!

Characters and their respective D&D roles

Fates of Characters as Song Quotes pt.1

Fates of Characters as Song Quotes pt. 2

Chapter 18 Dialogue Breakdown: Parallels

SEASON 1

Chapter 1 - The Demogorgon

Chapter 2 - Skater

Chapter 2.5 - What If…

Chapter 3 - Monster Hunting

Chapter 3.5 - What If…

Chapter 4 - 16 Candles

Chapter 4.5 - What If…

SEASON 2

Chapter 5 - Hot Shit Hargrove

Chapter 6 - D’Artagnan

Chapter 6.5 - What If…

Chapter 7 - Electricity

Chapter 7.5 - What If…

Chapter 8 - You’re Pretty Metal

Chapter 8.5 - What If…

Chapter 9 - Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

Chapter 10 - Who’s Gonna Drive You Home Tonight?

Chapter 10.5 - What If…

SEASON 3

Chapter 11 - Bummer Summer

Chapter 11.5 - What If…

Chapter 12 - The Wrong Soul Answered

Chapter 13 - Beginning of the Irreversible

Chapter 13.5 - What If…

Chapter 14 - Be My Lifeline

Chapter 14.5 - What If…

Chapter 15 - That Wasn’t Your Line

Chapter 15.5 - What If…

Chapter 16 - Fate Waits Patiently in the Dark

Chapter 16.5 - What If…

Chapter 17 - Illusion of Choice

Chapter 17.5 - What If…

Chapter 18 - This is All so Paradoxical

Chapter 18.5 - What If…

Chapter 19 - That’s Not Power, It’s Control

Chapter 20 - They. Want. You. He. Wants. You.

Chapter 21 - It is Not in the Stars to Hold Our Destiny but in Ourselves

Chapter 22 - Forever Young (Coming 05/08…)

SEASON 4 (Coming 05/15…)

Chapter 23 - Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson (Coming 05/15)

SEASON 5 (Coming soon…)

[joekeerysbellybutton]

Masterlist

All fics are Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader and contain smut

Enjoy <3

One Shots:

• Control

Steve discovers he likes it when you take control.

• Birthday Girl

Steve wakes you up with a little treat on your birthday.

• Ruining Steve’s favourite jeans

There ain’t nothing dry about this humping.

• I like taking care of you

You unexpectedly get your period while staying over at Steve’s but he would do anything to help make you feel better.

Series:

• Not so family friendly video

You get a bit more than you bargained for when Steve picks the movie for your movie night.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight

Blurbs:

• Steve takes his sweet time getting you ready for him

Requests:

• I Want Your Video

• Relax

* Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for future fics!

* also open to requests!!

[seewhoyouwanttosee]

HOLYYYYY SHIT UR FIRST FIC WAS SO GOOD i must request more angst with a happy ending…. maybe another steve fic that includes an argument or a misunderstanding? can see enemies to lovers but reader is just shy and closed off? maybe she also has parents that are never present and joined the party because she was the og babysitter to get some cash and maybe steve makes a mean comment or assumption but dustin had to correct him and be like no she has like no one and soon they fall for each other? sorry if this is long

WHAT IS THIS FEELING? – STEVE HARRINGTON X FEM!READER 

☆ WORD COUNT: 7,4K

☆ CONTAINS:  Cursing, angst with fluffy ending! Very little jealousy, mentions of neglect. A bit suggestive towards the end? Enemies to lovers. 

☆ SUMMARY: When babysitting turns chaotic, old rivalries and a small-town grudge collide, leaving a trail of chaos in their wake. Between sharp words, misunderstandings, and long-hidden feelings, two people who should hate each other might just discover how complicated love truly is.

☆AUTHORS NOTE: AHHH, my first request ever! Sorry this took me so long to finish, between school, work and not having notifications on, I completely missed this! Still– I hope I managed to meet your expectations and that you enjoy reading this, whoever it may be! Thank you so much for requesting, feel free to do so whenever! Please comment your thoughts, any improvements or spelling mistakes, I cringe far too much to be able to read through the work myself. 

PAGE DIVIDERS BY: @angeliicide

When you’d agreed to take care of Claudia Henderson’s adorable, toothless son, you’d expected it to be a one and done scenario– you'd watch the kid for a few hours, get paid some easy earned money and never think of it again. It was well known around town that you were, more often than not, home alone while your parents were away on business trips every other week. 

Of course, when there's no one there to help, you learn to fend for yourself and as it seems, being able to fend for yourself meant people also saw you as competent!

Hence the babysitting jobs around town, where you'd sit on couches and do your homework for hours, while the kids you were “watching” were cooped up in their rooms.

Easiest money you've ever made and a fond memory to look back on. 

Except it wasn't just a memory anymore, not when four years later, Dustin Henderson was standing on your doorstep on a Friday night, surrounded by some more children you recognized to be his friends. 

He perks up when you open the door, the smile he gives you lighting up his entire face.

Huh.

He has teeth now.

“Y/n! Guys, remember how I told you about the best babysitter I’ve ever had?” Dustin's voice breaks the silence, high pitched in a way you could only classify as fake enthusiasm. “Well– here she is! Gosh you’ve..grown up– has anyone ever told you you look like Phoebe Cates? She does, right guys?”

Your face is still as you blink unamusedly, eyes darting across the faces of his equally unamused friends.

Dustin must have sensed that whatever he was planning wasn't going to work without the help of said friends, so he clears his throat, sending a pointed look over his shoulder, voice strained as he speaks again; 

“Right, guys…?” He repeats slower this time and a chorus of mumbled, what you think is agreement, is heard.

You blink. 

Dustin meets your gaze, grin not wavering from his face.

The staring contest is broken by the red haired girl groaning, huffing impatiently. .

“Dustin you said she was cool– we don't have time for this! Is she going to help us or not–”

“Shut up Max, I’m handling it–” Dustin hisses, the group making a poor attempt at huddling up.

“Don’t tell her to shut up!” Another boy snaps back, as if he suddenly realized he's supposed to stand up for her.

The redhead, who you now know as Max grimaces, shoving the boy that had quite pathetically, stood up for her.

“Shut up Lucas, I can take care of myself!”

You sigh, rubbing your face tiredly. Your plan for tonight was to read the book you had borrowed earlier today from the library, maybe even swipe some wine from your parents' stash, while blasting music as loud as you wanted, well inside the comfort of your home.

Not to have preteens arguing on your doorstep.

“Why are you here, Dustin?” You finally ask, opening the door wider and placing your hands on your hips as you watch them shuffle uncomfortably.

When he fails to respond, you move to close the door, and only then does he speak up; 

“Okay, okay– geez! I remember you being a lot nicer before–” A slightly taller, dark haired boy smacks his arm, probably his way of telling him to not piss off the person they need something from. Dustin winces, before speaking up again. 

“Alright, Jesus Christ– We..ahem, we need a driver.” He says, as if it is the most simple thing on earth.

“A driver.” You repeat incredulously.

“Yeah, a driver!” Dustin confirms enthusiastically,

Your eyes narrow, hands moving from your hips to over your chest as you cross your arms and look out at the small group of children.

“And why, pray tell, do you need me to drive you at…” You check the time on your wrist watch before meeting his gaze again. “7pm on a friday night?”

Dustin freezes, shoulders slumping as he helplessly looks behind him. Max groans, pushing through the boys as she ends up right in front of you, arms crossed and eyes sharp.

“I’m Max.” She says simply, clearly having had enough of the pleasantries before continuing to speak; “We need you to take us to our school, so that we can get our school project and make some…adjustments.”

At least you got an explanation this time– not a very good one, but an explanation nonetheless. You're still doubtful though, quirking an eyebrow at the feisty girl in front of you.

“This can’t wait until Monday?"

“Look– between us girls– they screwed up. Badly. And I am not going to get a lower grade because of these idiots–”

“Hey!” Someone quips in hurt, before Max whirls around glaring at whoever dared to make a sound. 

It seemed to be effective, as no one spoke up again afterwards.

She clears her throat, turning back to face you with an impatient smile on her face.

“Like I said. Idiots.”

You bite back an amused smile, letting your gaze wander towards the rest of the boys, looking for a weak link. Instead, you're met with the group of boys nodding insistently, Dustin even sporting a sheepish smile, scratching his head.

“Yeah- we’re idiots. Plain and simple! You know my mom works late and I didn't really have anyone else to call…” He trails off, cheeks sagging as his smile drops. You don't even realize he's playing you like a fiddle, using your own experiences to garner sympathy.

A soft frown forms on your face as you take his words in, defenses lowering.

Yeah, you knew all about not having anyone to call. 

Hence the reason you were home alone tonight again, for what was going on to be the third week in a row.

With a sigh, you grab your jacket and car keys, ignoring the warmth blooming in your chest as you hear the group cheer silently amongst themselves, before several small footsteps follow behind you. 

You watch as the four boys squeeze into the back, grunting and shoving each other. Adjusting the rearview mirror, you huff; 

“Hey– no fighting or I'll drop each one of you home instead, and trust me, I know where you live.”

The bickering seizes, low mumbles of what you take as confirmation being heard.

Max settled beside you in the passenger seat, chin in hand as she stared out the window. When the car doesn't move, she turns to face you, only to find you already looking at her, an expectant look in your eyes. Scoffing, she fidgets in the seat, muttering a quiet “What?” as she feigns ignorance.

You give her an unimpressed look, not turning the key in the engine just yet.

“Seatbelt.” 

“My brother doesn't care if I wear one–” She retorts, only to be cut off.

“I’m not your brother.” You say, simply blinking at her until she gets the memo that you're not moving this car an inch until she puts her belt on, which she does reluctantly all while grumbling under her breath.

The rest of the party seemed to get the message as well, multiple clicks being heard throughout the car.

A satisfied smile forms on your lips, finally turning the key in the ignition, making your way towards Hawkins Middle School. 

Standing outside the locked doors, you turn to face the party again.

“Okay, remind me again; How exactly are we getting in?”

The tall, dark haired you've come to realize is Nancy Wheeler's little brother, Michael. He rolls his eyes while giving you a dirty look. 

You don’t see the family resemblance.

“Like I said earlier, you give us a boost into the unlocked window in the school gym and we’ll unlock it afterwards!” Mike all but sneers at you.

-“Yeah– no, no way kid!” You retort, not trusting them in the slightest. For all you knew, they’d mess something up and ditch you before the cops pull off.

You don’t put it past Mike to be the one to suggest it–

Already sensing the uproar you're about to cause with that sentence, you quickly speak up again.

“I’ll give Will a boost and he’ll open the door for the rest of us, while we stay out here! Together.”

Lucas gives you a weirded out look, voicing what you imagine to be the rest of the group's thoughts; “Wait, why Will?”

“Because I actually trust him to not leave me when the cops show up!” You shot back sarcastically, having overestimated their comprehension of it just a tad too much.

A series of panicked mumblings can be heard at that; 

“The cops?”

“What cops–”

“Wait, the cops can show up? Holy shit Dustin, I can’t get grounded over that slimy pollywog–”

Your ears strain, filtering out the background noise once you hear that sentence. Quirking a brow, you tilt your head, staring the culprit down.

“...What do you mean by ‘pollywog’, Lucas?”

The boy in question freezes up and Max audibly groans for what seems to be the hundredth time that evening.

“Nothing! I mean– that’s- that's just…” He trails off, looking at the group for help.

“…The name of our project! The…uh…’the slimy Pollywog’– yep, that's what he meant by that!” Dustin quickly chimes in and Lucas nods quickly in agreement.

“Yeah– yes! That's exactly what I meant.” 

You don’t have time to question them any further when Mike interrupts;

“Are we going to do this or what?”

“Can you at least try to pull yourself up?”

“He has the weakest arms, why did we choose him?”

“Ugh, I’m starting to cramp–”

You groan, head pounding from the incessant whining you'd heard this evening, patience run out by this point.

“Jesus Christ– will you guys’ quit whining for a second?” You snap, immediately regretting it when they grow quiet. 

The fast quips and cursing had made you forget that you were, in fact, dealing with children.

Adjusting your hold on Max who’s perched on your shoulders, currently helping shove Will through a tiny window, you’re prevented from apologizing to them when beaming headlights approach, blinding you.

Shit, did the cops actually show up?

You couldn’t really run, not when Will was halfway through the opening in the wall and Max on top of you– the three of you would end up crushing each other or breaking something.

Though you soon get the answer to your thoughts when the car shuts off and your surroundings suddenly become dark once again. 

The scuffle of shoes is heard over the gravel of the parking lot and if it weren't for the kids not running off already, you’d positively be shitting yourself.

Instead, you blink, eyes adjusting to the sudden figure stopping a few feet away from the lot of you, hands on his hips as he takes in the scene.

A group of children, no, his ex-girlfriend Nancy Wheeler’s little brother Mike, Dustin Henderson who had taken him monster hunting a couple days ago and…you?

“Henderson, what the hell is going on, you left me a message on my receiver–”

“That was hours ago, Steve– jeez, way to show up when the party's over!” Dustin jeers, swaying on top of Lucas’ shoulders, still attempting to shove Will through the window.

Steve scoffs in offense, about to retort when his eyes land on you, this time actually processing the fact that it's, well, you. 

“Why is she here?” He scowls and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. 

You never actually had a problem with Steve. Not when he’d mock Jonathan Byers in the hallways, or the way he’d charm his way out of any homework with teachers– not even when you were paired up with him in sophomore year english and you had ended up doing the entire project yourself, despite him being a junior and retaking this class, because he hadn’t remember who his partner was. 

You just chalked it up to his character.

Steve Harrington was your typical douchebag, who would peak in high school and then probably spend the rest of his days reminiscing about his school days and how different his life would be if he didn't have “...That career ending injury–”

Steve on the other hand, had an issue with you.

For some reason beyond your understanding, Steve had a mostly one-sided hatred for you. Okay, hatred was a strong word, but he sure as hell didn't like you. It pissed you off, to say the least, for a guy like him to hold any negative opinion about you, out of everyone.

It’s not like you held a grudge or anything– rather that you sadistically enjoyed the displays of anger your indifference towards him caused. 

Such as right now.

Dustin looks between the two of you, pointing a finger;

“You two know each other?" He prods, eyebrows raising in surprise.

“No–” You shake your head, face dropping into your usual deadpan expression

“Yes, we do.” Steve growls, interrupting you while already ticked off.

You resist the urge to smirk at his displeasure. 

The moment is interrupted when you feel your shoulders grow lighter, the sound of a crash following, before Will groans out;

“...I’m okay.”

You quickly help Max off your shoulder, unable to stop yourself from looking the petite boy over when he opens the door. Running your hands over his shoulders your eyebrows furrow in concern as everyone else enters the school.

“Are you sure you’re okay? That was a pretty loud crash, buddy.” You muse softly, disguising concern with humor. Will just nods, giving you a small and reassuring smile.

Ruffling the hair of the younger Byers’ brother, you naturally fall behind the rest of the group as the younger ones speed walk ahead, speaking quietly amongst themselves.

You don’t realize Steve's beside you before he scoffs, hands deep in the pocket of his jacket when he speaks;

“You think fussing over his little brother is going to make Byers like you?”

You don’t audibly react but Steve already has his eyes set on your side profile, smirking triumphantly when he sees the way your eye twitches. 

Jackpot.

Jonathan Byers was a sore topic for many reasons, the most current one being the fact that he was dating Nancy Wheeler, when you’ve been secretly pining after him for months. 

Clearly though, you haven't been as subtle as you’ve thought if someone as stupid as Steve has caught on to it.

Steve would argue that it was only due to his dislike of you, the need to find a weakness and exploit it– that he had noticed it.

Not because it left this sour, inexplicable feeling in his chest whenever he saw you making googly eyes at him in the hallway or because it showed that you weren’t as detached as you initially had seemed– the fact being that you only acted that way with Steve.

As far as he knew, Steve was well liked. Not only was he well liked, he was actually the most popular guy in Hawkins! Guys wanted to be him, girls wanted to be with him and yet you had barely acknowledged him, but pined over Jonathan Byers?

It was bullshit.

You don’t respond immediately, speaking up after a while.

“Unlike you, I don’t use people to get into other’s pants.”

Steve huffed, a sharp laugh escaping him, hollow and humorless. There it was again– that familiar look of disdain anytime he was involved. Did you even know him at all? Or was it easier to pretend you were better than him, turning your nose up whenever he was near?

“You don’t know me.” He scowled.

“And thank God for that.” You shot back, sending him a secret glare.

Steve grabs your arm, pulling you to a stop. You gasp at the action, the empty school hallway dark, the only light coming from the emergency exit signs glowing, illuminating his disgruntled features.

“What the hell are you doing–”

“What’s your problem, huh? Why do you hate me so much?” He prods, gripping your wrist harder, his large hand warming the space he's taking up. 

You glower back at him, attempting and failing to tug your wrist out of his ironclad hold. 

“My problem? I'm not the one assaulting someone right now!” You exclaim, lowering your voice when you glance at the party, still searching the hallways for something. You don’t have the time to wonder why they’re looking on top of the lockers when they had claimed to be here for a project– not with Steve cornering you after years of not even acknowledging you. 

Rolling his eyes he gives you an humourless look, jaw clenching like he's fighting an internal battle, before releasing your wrist.

“Christ, way to overreact. I grabbed you, I didn't put you in a chokehold–” He mutters sourly, tongue prodding his cheek, a telltale sign of annoyance. “That’s besides the damn point– you have an issue with me and now you’re what, turning Henderson against me?”

A sharp, disbelieving laugh escapes you at that, eyebrows raising in almost hysteria. 

Steve does think that maybe he should be scared, but is more distracted by the fact that this is the most emotion you've ever had while dealing with him.

“-’Turning Henderson against me’–  gosh, how old are you again?” You mock, giving him a grimace.

“...You didn’t deny it–” He quips back, though less confident.

“I don't need to deny it, it's stupid!”

During the years you had noticed that, much to your dismay, Steve Harrington did indeed have thick skin. No matter the insults hurled his way, his unbridled confidence persevered, maintaining his social status as “King Steve” no matter what. The only time you had actually seen him get somewhat affected by words, his smile turning tense, hands clenching around his pencil, was when his intelligence was questioned.

Granted, Steve knew he didn’t have the best grades, no, not even the best– the teachers were working overtime in trying to keep his grades afloat, since the school couldn’t afford their star athlete of multiple sports teams not being able to play for them due to a low GPA. This reasoning, paired with the fact that Steve could charm the skin off a snake, was the sole reason his grades remained average and as a result hadn’t been kicked out of his family home by his father yet. 

Thus, if there was one thing that got to him, it was this.

Steve steps closer and you reflexively step away, only to hit the lockers with your back, being forced to a stop.

“You think you’re so much better than me, huh? Because you spend all your time with your nose buried in books, acting like that’s some noble choice?” Steve laughs, the sound grating against your ears. This wasn't his usual laugh, the one he used whenever he managed to get under your skin. No, this one was different–  sharper. Cruel in a way that made your stomach clench.

“Everyone knows you don’t have friends. No wonder you get good grades when you don’t have anything else to do! Hell, if what I've heard around town is true…” He tilts his head slightly, a mocking smile pulling at his lips. 

“Not even your parents spend time with you, right?” 

For a second, the words land harder than you expect. Something tightens in your chest, hot and sudden, like he’s reached somewhere he had no right touching. Your fingers curl against your palms.

He’s watching for it. Waiting for you to crack.

The realization burns the hurt away just enough to leave something colder behind. You let out a quiet breath, lifting your eyes to him.

“You’re as pathetic as I thought.” You spit, giving him a scathing glare before pushing past him, momentarily stopping when you see that the group that was supposed to be ahead  wasn’t ahead anymore, rather they were close enough to have heard everything.

Cursing internally, you force yourself to continue walking, muttering when you pass the kids;

“I’ll be right outside whenever you guys finish.”

You wanted to bash Steve Harrington's face into a brick wall, but you had also been their ride to the school, so you couldn't just ditch them.

…Though it was tempting.

Steve watches you storm out, a sharp sigh escaping him as he drags a hand through his hair. Thankfully, the rest of the party quickly goes back to whatever the hell they were doing before.

All except one.

Dustin Henderson stands in front of him, hands thrown up like he’s witnessing some kind of disaster, silently asking what the hell just happened?

Steve resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“Not now, Henderson—”

“Uh, yes, now!” Dustin cuts in immediately, ignoring him like he always does as he steps closer. “What the heck was that?”

“None of your business,” Steve snaps. “Why the hell was she even here?”

The words come out sharper than they should, the anger misplaced and thrown at the nearest target.

Dustin blinks at him.

“Wow,” he mutters. “Okay. So we’re just gonna pretend that it wasn't completely insane?”

Steve exhales through his nose, irritation simmering just under his skin. The worst part was he wasn’t even sure who he was angry at. You or himself.

Dustin watches him for another second before squinting slightly.

“…You like her.”

Steve’s head snaps toward him so fast Dustin almost takes a step back.

“I do not.”

The denial comes out immediate and sharp, like the word itself offended him.

Dustin blinks again, then he squints harder. “Dude.”

Steve points a finger at him in warning. “Don’t start.”

“I’m serious!” Dustin insists, throwing his hands up. “You literally just cornered her in a dark hallway and insulted her entire life because she called you stupid. That’s, like, textbook– ”

“That’s not textbook anything!” Steve snaps. “She started it!”

Dustin stares at him.

“…By existing?”

“That’s not what I– ” he begins, before cutting himself off with a frustrated groan, dragging both hands down his face. “She’s been like that since sophomore year English, okay? Always acting like she’s better than everyone.”

Dustin raises a brow.

“Everyone or you?”

Steve shoots him a warning look.

“Just saying,” Dustin mutters, rocking back on his heels. “You, especially you, Steve, don’t go nuclear on someone unless they get to you.”

Steve scoffs loudly, the blasphemous accusations hitting harder than it should, considering the fact that it's coming from a 13-year old. 

“She does not get under my skin.”

Dustin gestures vaguely toward the hallway you stormed down.

“I call you stupid everyday and you don’t use psychological warfare and bring up my deadbeat dad.”

Steve opens his mouth again, both in shock and to defend himself, ready with some biting retort– 

When Lucas suddenly calls from down the hallway.

“Dustin! We found it!”

The tension snaps like a rubber band and Dustin’s attention immediately shifts, eyes lighting up as he jogs backward toward the others.

“Coming!”

He pauses halfway down the hall though, glancing back at Steve with a suspicious look.

“You still owe her an apology.”

Steve barks out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

Dustin just shrugs, calling out before he disappears around the corner.

“Your call, man!”

Steve stands there alone for a moment in the dim hallway, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead. His jaw tightens, still able to see the way your face changed when he mentioned your parents.

Still hear the way your voice went flat when you called him pathetic. Steve exhales sharply, groaning into his hands. 

“...Fuck.”

The school doors slam harder than necessary when you push them open, the sound echoing across the empty parking lot.

Cold air hits your face, but it does nothing to cool the anger still buzzing under your skin. You shove your hands into your jacket pockets, pacing a few steps away from the entrance before stopping beside your car.

Unbelievable.

Steve Harrington had always been an asshole, sure, but that– that had been low, even for him. 

You kick at a loose pebble on the pavement, watching it skid across the asphalt, while the door creaks open behind you again a few minutes later and you don’t turn around, already knowing who it is.

Steve’s footsteps stop a few feet away, gravel crunching under his shoes. For once, he doesn’t immediately start running his mouth. Silence stretches between you– long enough to become uncomfortable quickly. 

“Kids found their… whatever the hell that thing is,” He finally says.

You hum faintly in acknowledgment, still facing the parking lot. You didn’t owe him the favor of making things easier for him, no, you’d rather relish in the awkwardness of his own making by taking things too far. 

Steve shifts his weight, sighing like it's painful for him to be nice to you.

“Look,” he starts, voice rougher than usual. “About what I said in there—”

“Save it,” you cut him off flatly watching as the words land quick and sharp as Steve’s jaw tightens.

“I wasn’t apologizing,” he says defensively.

You finally glance at him over your shoulder, unimpressed.

“Good,” you reply. “Would’ve been weird getting one from you.”

Steve scoffs, folding his arms. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“And you’re predictable,” you shoot back. “So I guess we’re even.”

The parking lot light above flickers again, buzzing faintly and for a moment it looks like Steve might fire back with another insult. Instead he studies you– really studies you, then he shakes his head slightly, like he’s physically pushing thoughts out of his head. 

“You seriously think I care that much about what you think of me?”

You turn fully now, leaning back against the hood of your car.

“No,” you say calmly. “I think it bothers you that I don’t.”

That lands a hit on him, you can see it. Steve’s expression flickers– annoyance, recognition, something else he quickly buries under a scowl; “That’s not– ”

“You’re used to people liking you,” you continue, almost lazily. “Or at least pretending to. So yeah, I imagine it’s frustrating when someone doesn’t bother.”

Steve exhales sharply through his nose.

“You don’t bother?” he repeats.

“Nope.”

His eyes narrow slightly, words slipping before he can stop them; 

“You seem pretty bothered right now.”

You push off the car, smiling sarcastically, voice condescending as if you're speaking to a child. Does he actually not know why you’re upset? 

“That’s because you decided to bring my parents into it,” you say, voice suddenly colder. “Which was a dick move, even for you Harrington.”

Steve opens his mouth, then closes it again and for once, he doesn’t have a clever comeback ready. The silence between you stretches again, heavier this time.

Inside the school, faint shouting from the kids echoes through the doors.

You puff some air out of your chest, slumping back against your car as your shoulders drop. Why were you even bothering with this? Steve clearly did not like you and had his own perception.

And yeah, you could agree that you had been kind of bitch to him too sometimes— but not to the extent he had taken it tonight. 

Never that far.

You glance up at him, only to avert your gaze quickly when you see that he’s looking at you too. If he wasn’t such an asshole, maybe you’d admit that he was irritatingly handsome, that you had just been cold from the start during sophomore year because you didn’t know how to make conversation with “King Steve” without making a fool out of yourself.

Instead, you rid yourself of those thoughts, pushing them far below the surface of your mind and focusing on all the horrible things he’s said to you.

Yeah, that's more like the Steve you knew, a proud, cocky, rude, arrogant piece of—

“…I’m sorry.”

Oh, fuck.

Snorting, you shake your head, ignoring the way your heart was speeding up.

It’s from anger, you convince yourself. 

“Don’t be.” You retort coldly, pointedly avoiding his gaze. “Just stand for what you said—“

Steve sighs and if you weren’t upset, you’d almost find it funny how painful it was for him to actually be nice to you.

“That’s the thing I’m trying to explain—“

“I don’t need you to explain what you meant by everyone knowing that my parents have basically abandoned me!” The sentence slips, your voice louder than it had ever been before when addressing him, and for some sick and twisted reason, Steve felt his heart skip a beat.

Fuck, he really was pathetic. He’d poked and prodded for years in hope of getting something, anything from you other than indifference, only to come to terms with the fact that you truly didn’t give a shit about him.

And yet, just when he’s about to give up and accept defeat, you yell and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard.

Jesus— someone put me down already, he thinks to himself, shaking his head and looking away purposefully.

You of course don’t notice any of his internal battles, eyes narrowing in disbelief when he turns away.

Oh hell no— you echo in your head, walking up to him, suddenly chest to chest as you try and force his gaze to meet yours.

“Look at me, asshole!”

Steve freezes when you step into his space.

Close.

Way closer than either of you have ever been before.

For a second he doesn’t move, doesn’t even breathe properly, your voice still ringing in his ears.

Look at me, asshole.

His eyes flick back to yours automatically, darting across your face which was a big mistake, because now you’re right there– angry, flushed from yelling, eyes sharp and bright under the flickering parking lot light and Steve realizes way too late, very unhelpfully, that you’re really close.

“Congratulations,” he mutters, voice rougher than he intends. “You got my attention.”

Your jaw tightens.

“Don’t deflect,” you snap. “You don’t get to throw something like that in my face and then act like it’s nothing.”

Steve’s expression shifts slightly, the irritation still there, but something else edges in now– something quieter.

“I wasn’t acting like it was nothing,” he says, slower this time.

“Oh really?” you shoot back. “Because from where I’m standing, it sounded like you were having the time of your life.”

“That wasn’t—”

“You don’t know anything about my parents,” you cut him off, voice shrill again. “You don’t know why they’re gone all the time or what that’s actually like. So maybe next time you feel like running your mouth, you should—”

Steve exhales, running a hand through his hair again.

“Look,” he mutters, clearly annoyed with himself now. “I didn’t say it because I think it’s funny.”

Your eyes narrow, not buying it in the slightest.

“Then why say it at all?”

Steve hesitates for once, like he actually might care about what he says next and how it might land. 

You watch the hesitation happen in real time and it throws you off more than any insult he’s ever thrown your way.

Finally he scoffs softly, shaking his head.

“Because you piss me off.”

Your brows lift in disbelief.

“That’s your explanation?”

“Yeah,” he says bluntly. “You act like I’m the worst person in Hawkins every time I’m within five feet of you.”

“That’s because you usually are.”

Steve lets out a short laugh.

“See? That. Right there.”

You cross your arms, not backing down– never backing down when it comes to him.

“So that gives you the right to start rumors about my family?”

“I didn’t start them,” he says quickly. “People talk. Small town, remember?”

“That doesn’t mean you get to repeat them.”

Steve doesn’t answer immediately and the silence between the two of you stretches again, but this time it’s heavier.

Eventually he sighs. “…I shouldn’t have said it.”

The admission is quiet, almost reluctant and your anger falters for half a second. Steve notices, of course he does. He notices things about you that he shouldn't, especially considering how much you hate him.

“You want me to be honest?” He adds, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fine. You get under my skin. You piss me off like no other– always fucking pushing!”

You blink, thrown off guard. Years of bickering, ignoring his existence when you eventually grew tired of picking a fight and countless nights beating yourself up over the fact that you’d actually liked him at some point in the beginning had all boiled down to the fact that..

You annoyed him?

“…What?” You stare at him like he just spoke a different language. “Why?”

Steve barks out a humorless laugh.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously!”

He gestures vaguely at you.

“Because you walk around acting like you’ve already decided I’m an idiot.”

Your mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.

“…You are an idiot.”

Steve groans.

“Unbelieveable– see? You just– just look at how you act!”

“But that doesn’t explain–”

“You didn’t even know me when you decided that,” He quips defensively.

That stops you, a bitter chuckle escaping you.

If only he knew.

“You really are stupid.”

Steve's eyes narrowed at the word; “Seriously? I just told you why and you still pick a fight–”

You groan, cutting him off.

“I didn't mean it like that! I just meant– you're stupid because you spent years fighting with me because you thought that I thought that I was too good to even talk to you!”

“Because you did–

“Oh my– Steve, I had a crush on you!” You finally snap, shedding light on the truth that's been gnawing at pieces of your soul since this whole ordeal began. The words escape your mouth before you have any chance to stop them, and the second they hit the air, your stomach twists in a mix of regret and disbelief.

 “Oh, fuck,” You mutter under your breath, realizing that years of carefully constructed indifference and irritation just collapsed in a single, humiliating confession. 

“I– forget I said that.” Your voice is harsh, trying to scrape away any hint of vulnerability, but it’s far too late.

Steve doesn’t move. He doesn’t even blink. There’s no immediate reaction, no smirk, no sharp retort that would usually follow your insults. His gaze pins you in place, deliberate and unnervingly calm. “…No,” he says finally, his voice low, carrying a weight that makes your chest tighten despite yourself. “…I don’t think I will.”

Your jaw drops, and your heartbeat accelerates in a way that has nothing to do with anger. “Jesus Christ, Harrington, I said forget it!” you snap, waving your hands as if that could physically erase what you’ve just admitted. 

“…So let me get this straight,” He begins, taking a measured step closer, his eyes locked on yours. “You liked me. And then what? You acted like a complete– He stops himself, a laugh escaping his throat, short and dangerous. 

You snap your head up, indignation flaring hot and sharp. “It was sophomore year! I didn’t know how to talk to you without making a fool out of myself! I didn’t– You break off, realizing how pitiful it must sound, before deciding to just spit it out anyways. 

 “…I didn’t know what else to do.”

Steve’s gaze doesn’t soften, but there’s a trace of something that wasn’t there before: “You were mad at me for…what? Thinking I was untouchable? Thinking I wouldn’t notice you?”

You blink at him, speechless for once. The thing is, he’s right. Every sarcastic comment, every sharp retort, every “I don’t care” you threw at him, it had all been a carefully constructed shield, a way to protect yourself from the fact that you were completely flustered and incapable of speaking to him like a normal person because he was him– top of the social pyramid and you were you, whom not even your parents wanted to be with.

You’d buried your crush so deep that it had turned into something unrecognizable: anger, resentment, sharp edges you used to carve out some space between yourself and him.

“I didn’t know how else to– you start, your voice faltering.

Inside the school, the kids suddenly erupt into loud shouting again.

“Guys, it escaped!”

“Oh my God–”

“Don’t let it get into the vents!”

You and Steve both turn toward the doors at the exact same time.

“…It’s bigger than last time,” Dustin’s voice yells from the other side of the room, panicked but somehow excited. “And it’s… it’s faster! He’s evolving– I told you it was amazing!” He argues with Mike who's clearly not as pleased by the fact that the creature they're trying to catch is advancing as they speak, making it even harder for them than it already is.

Lucas screams a high pitched scream, Max groans, and Will, poor, bewildered Will is frantically trying to corral the creature that’s now slipping free from the container. The sound of wet squelching and high-pitched chirps fills the air, and for a moment you wonder if this is exactly the kind of chaos you didn’t sign up for.

You hurry into the hallway, resisting a gag when you see the slimy creature.

“You said it was a group project!” You scowl, stalking up to Dustin as you glare in betrayal.

“It is! It is, I promise–  we just– ugh, please just help me catch him and I’ll explain everything–”

“No, no way– it’s disgusting!” You squeal, not even noticing how Max has ended up beside you, clutching your arm. A warm feeling blooms in your chest though from the short amount of time you’ve known her, you knew she’d back off as soon as you acknowledge it, which is why you don’t.

Thankfully, the panic is cut short when Lucas grabs it with his bare hand, shoving it back into the container– a sick squelch filling the air when the lid closes forcefully. 

Lucas grins, wiggling his eyebrows at Max, as if to say; That was for you.

You’re too shocked to hold back your laugh, Max blushing furiously at your side before she joins in, not going too long before everyone else does the same, the sound of laughter filling the empty hallways.

You feel Steve's eyes on you before you even meet his gaze, for once not holding back your smile.

By the time the last of the kids shuffle out of the car and into their homes, exhausted but animatedly recounting every detail of the chaos, the world feels quieter, almost unreal. You sit behind the wheel of your car, hands gripping the steering wheel as you pull into your own driveway.

There is no one to keep the front porch light on for you when you arrive, a telltale sign that it would be yet another night alone. 

A bitter smile forms on your face as you park and get out, only making it to your stairs when suddenly another car pulls up on your street.

The maroon beamer tolls to a stop on the side of the street and it's only a few moments until Steve is getting out of the driver's seat, slowly walking up to you and keeping a respectful distance from where you're standing.

“Miss me that bad, Harrington?” You quip, but it comes out tired and disingenuous, so unlike yourself Steve almost does a double take. Sighing, you shrug, arms thrown weakly by your side. 

“You win, Steve.” You start, voice quiet, almost fragile, “…I… I’m sorry for earlier, for everything, really. For… snapping, for yelling. I–”

Steve cuts you off with a sharp bark of a laugh, loud enough to startle you, his expression twisting into something that’s not quite frustration, not quite amusement, but full of unfiltered honesty. “You know what? Forget it. Stop apologizing.”

You blink, caught off guard, frowning as you feel that familiar spark of irritation grow;

“I’m trying to apologize here, to ease your mind!”

“I never asked you to!” He interrupts again, stepping closer, voice rising slightly, intense now. “You don’t get it. I’d prefer you being mean to me like before. Yelling, snapping, because at least then I knew where we stood.” 

His eyes lock onto yours, fierce and unwavering, almost offended that you’d pretended. “…This fake niceness, this… ‘I’m done with you, I don’t hate you’ bullshit– it’s worse than any insult you’ve ever thrown at me.”

You swallow hard, the words wrapping around your chest like a vice. Your throat feels tight, your hands curl into fists at your sides. “…I’m tired,” you finally admit, voice low, heavy with truth. “…Tired of yelling, tired of pretending… tired of being mean or nice or anything at all. You were right, you know. That's why I got so pissed– because you were right.”

Standing there, exhausted, battered by adrenaline and raw honesty, you realize that whatever this is between you, it’s far from simple.

You exhale, chest heaving, shoulders slumping as the weight of the night settles on you. For a brief second, you think it’s over. You think maybe you’ve said enough, admitted enough, maybe you can finally step back and just… breathe.

Steve doesn’t give you that.

Instead, he tilts his head, that infuriating, cocky smirk creeping back across his face. “You know,” he says, voice low, testing– provoking. “I didn’t peg you for a pushover.”

You know what he's doing, how can you not when he's being so transparent about it.

Still, you fall for the bait like you always have; 

“Fuck you.” You hiss, stepping closer.

In your blind rage, you don't notice the way his mouth twitches, the way he's suddenly sparked back alive when you respond to him.

“You wish.” He gives you a toothy grin when he sees the way you falter at his blatant…flirting?

“You’re insane.” You mutter, shaking your head in disbelief but not able to stop the way your heart pounds, his words causing a spark in your stomach. “I hate you.”

Steve snorts, an amused glint in his eyes as he cages you in against your front door.

“No you don’t. We’ve already established that.”

“We haven’t established shit–”

“Uh-uh. Don’t be crude now. ” Steve tuts, the touch of his index finger against your chin, lightly nudging it in warning, while simultaneously coercing you to meet his gaze, making your cheeks flush as you scowl, not giving in.

“Steve-”

“Y/n.” He mocks, thumb now brushing against your bottom lip, his breath ghosting over your bottom half of your face, eyes dark and searching yours for something, anything that indicated that you didn’t actually want this.

It doesn't take him long to realize there wasn't anything, not when you were glaring up at him so defiantly, but still not shoving him off like you've done so many times before.

Not when you were gripping his jacket, working equally as hard to keep him as close as he was keeping you.

And especially not when your eyes would flicker down to his lips, lingering there– testing his self restraint and finally looking back up at his eyes.

Your chest heaves, thoughts scattered, heart racing with something you can’t name. And yet, there he is, looking at you like he always has– only now, you see his true feelings. All you want is to close the gap between you.

Steve's thumb tugs on your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open before he presses his lips to yours, in a wet, hot kiss– years of frustration, anger and need bleeding into it.

A soft groan escapes his lips when your fingers run through his stupid hair, tugging harshly on the ones at the nape of his neck. When his lips part as he groans, you waste no time in slipping your tongue into the wet cave of his mouth, a soft whimper of your own slipping when his tongue presses against yours.

Steve's hands are all over your body as you kiss– never intrusive or prodding, but warm and heavy, like he's mapping out your curves over your clothes gripping you hard when he pulls you to his chest.

You feel him grin into the kiss, confused for a moment before you feel his hand slide down lower, gripping your ass over your jeans.

Pulling away, your chest heaves as you roll your eyes, giving him a look; exasperated, but filled with affection nonetheless.

“Really, Harrington? You’re unbelievable.”

Steve grins unapologetically, but still moves his hands back to your waist, unable to resist squeezing what feels like three times.

“I know. But can you blame me? I have a lot to make up for.” 

☆ END NOTE: I’m still trying to get into the groove of writing and posting, as well as making the fics/title page look pretty, so sorry for taking such a long time between writing, it was A LOT! My second fic ever, so hope you enjoyed it! Also not sure how I feel about longer fics, but if you guys think they're drawn out or boring, or you actually enjoy them, let me know!

PS. The comments I've gotten (three so far lol) have really been the driving force behind this and I keep finding myself re-reading them for motivation, just wanted to show some appreciation (bars)!

[djohours]

scumbag blues masterlist

one

two

three

four

five

six

seven

eight

[tinfoileddd]

drag path masterlist

steve and mel. mel and steve. classmates for twelve years, friends for zero, having only ever orbited each other until a group project brings them together.

steve harrington x oc (18+) friends to lovers; slowburn; eventual fwb to lovers; YEARNING!!!; explorations of humanity, what it means to be alive, and other existential questions that steve harrington has; eventual smut (starts post s2, will run through s5 with changes to fix plot holes) divider by @/enchanthings ao3 link

Chapter 1: Where Do We Belong? Chapter 2: Anywhere But Here Chapter 3: To Waste My Time Chapter 4: Let Me Look A Little Older Chapter 5: Late Dawns and Early Sunsets Chapter 6: Love Threw Me Away Chapter 7: It's A Different Blue Chapter 8: When Routine Bites Hard Chapter 9: It's You and Me Through All These Inconsistencies Chapter 10: I'm Wide Awake, Why Can't I Dream Anymore? Chapter 11: Kids Don't Wanna Come Home Chapter 12: I Don't Just Want To Be a Footnote Chapter 13: It's Cold Outside Chapter 14: If I Will It All Away Chapter 15: It's Just In My Nature Chapter 16: That Was Just a Dream Some of Us Had

Other content:

stevemel tag drag path tag sneak peek - She's My Collar

[kind-of-a-writer]

The Backseat (18+)

gator tillman x fem!reader You're running late. Gator doesn't seem to care. Part 2: The Party

wc: 3k contains: cheating, mild dubcon, car sex, dry humping, etc etc

You knew it was Gator before you even rolled down the window, catching sight of his familiar strut as you glanced in the rearview mirror. His stupid sheriff vest and cargo pants, the trudge of his boots. Bracing yourself, you knew this wasn’t going to be fun. Or easy.

Gripping your driver’s license, you glanced up as he walked over. You had a deadpan expression as he leaned over slightly, a smug smirk on his face. He met your eyes and you couldn’t help but sigh in irritation.

When you and Gator had broken up a few months ago, you had flipped him off and told him you didn’t want to see his face ever again. And for the most part, you’d managed to avoid him, just narrowly. Leaving as soon as possible after church services and anywhere else you could possibly bump into him.

“You were speeding,” he said casually, as if this wasn’t your first time speaking properly in months. You almost wanted to drive off so you wouldn’t have to deal with him. “Where are you headin’ so fast all dolled up? Running late?” 

“I was barely over the speed limit,” you replied with a scoff. You glanced down at your white dress that showed a little too much cleavage for your liking, but he was right. You were running late to your new boyfriend’s family dinner, and you were, in fact, speeding. How were you supposed to know Gator would be driving this road now of all times? 

“You were goin’ 60 in a 35,” Gator said. “That excited to see that boyfriend of yours?”

“What’s it to you?” You asked, starting to get a little annoyed, tugging at the hem of your dress when you noticed him staring at your thighs. “If you’re gonna give me a ticket, just do it, Gator. I’m running late.” 

His smirk faded suddenly. “License and registration.” 

Mouth slightly agape, you recovered quickly, grumbling in annoyance as you handed your license over, folding your arms. You watched him, the way his eyebrows were scrunched in concentration as he scribbled something down in his notepad, hair slicked back like always. It had been a while since you’d seen him up so close. You hated how good he looked.

“So what is it? You’re on your way to see that tool?” he asked, not looking up from his notepad. “That why you’re wearing such a slutty dress?”

Clearing your throat, you shook your head. You didn’t want to give into him and his antics. You knew him too well, he was trying to rile you up like he always did. 

“Is he gonna fuck you tonight, hm? Does your poor daddy know?” Gator taunted, his smirk growing.

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Well, he fucks me better than you ever did.” 

He glanced up at you briefly, then shut the notepad. “Get out of the car.” 

“What?” You asked incredulously. “No.”

“Step out of the car, or I’ll arrest you,” Gator said, a smirk on his face again. “D’you want your little boyfriend to come and bail you out of jail tonight?”

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Because I can.”

“Asshole,” you murmured under your breath as you unbuckled your seatbelt and stepped out of your car. 

He only laughed in response as you shut the car door, glancing down at your white dress. You had worn it in hopes it would impress your boyfriend’s parents. While it wasn’t your first time meeting them and they were nice to you, you still felt a need to be on your best behavior. You never had to worry about that with Gator - mainly because you two had kept your relationship a secret from both of your families. 

Gator reached out, his long fingers ghosting over the hem of your skirt, his gaze fixated on your thighs. “It’s hotter up close,” he said. “Is it date night?” 

You swallowed thickly as his cold, soft fingers slipped under the hem, caressing your thigh slightly. You shook your head. “No,” you breathed, surprised by his sudden change in tone. “I’m going to have dinner with his family.” 

You had forgotten how good Gator was at calming you down, turning you on. Making your panties wet just by a simple touch. You squeezed your thighs together as his hand moved out from under your dress, tugging at the hem again. He seemed to be fascinated by it.

“Yeah?” he asked, his eyes fixed on yours. “Bet they love you, huh? So innocent and pure. They don’t know how much of a whore you can be, do they?”

Before you could respond, the sound of fabric tearing snapped you out of your daze. You glanced down, mouth open in horror. Your dress was torn in half at the skirt, split wide open, revealing your panties. The cold air traveled up your thighs.

“Gator!” You gasped, trying to push his hand away, but he wouldn’t budge. 

“Oh,” he clicked his tongue, unable to hide his amusement. “My hand slipped. It’s so delicate.”

“I can’t fucking believe-” 

“You’re wearing my favorite, huh?” Gator said with a hum, his index finger tracing over the lace of your pink panties, a nonchalance in his tone that made you want to slap him. 

You wanted to yell at him, tell him how much of a dick he was for ripping your dress, that he hadn’t changed a single bit in all these months. That you fucking hated him. But all that slipped out of your mouth was a soft whimper as his index finger rubbed over you slowly through the cloth of your panties. Your eyes met his, heat rushing to your cheeks at how humiliating this was. How good it felt.

You couldn’t help but glance around in embarrassment, down the long, empty road. It was starting to get dark. You were only getting later. You found yourself praying to God that a car wouldn’t pass by, wouldn't see Gator pressing you up against your car with his hand up your dress. 

“Darlin’, no one’s around,” he tilted his head. “You worried someone will see how much of a slut you still are for me? Haven’t even touched you properly yet, sweetheart.” 

Trembling slightly, you shook your head, glancing away. “You’re a dick.”

“Does he touch you like this, though?” Gator asked, pressing his index finger a little harder against you, finding your clothed clit. You couldn’t help the moan that left your mouth, only making him smirk wider. “He gets you wet like this?”

“Fuck off,” you said, breaths a little heavier. “Gator-”

“I’m gonna give you two options, yeah?” he said, tucking some hair behind your ear, removing his hand from between your legs. “I give you this ticket and you can go to that idiot’s house, in this poor little ripped dress, or… you stop being a stubborn little baby and admit you’ve missed me.” 

There was a beat as you breathed heavily, his thumb ghosting over your bottom lip. Then another.

Then, for some stupid reason, you were opening the door to the backseat of your car and Gator was sliding in with a victorious look on his face. 

Wordlessly, you crawled inside the car after him, cheeks flushed, the arousal growing between your thighs. You couldn’t even hide it anymore. You let Gator slide you onto his lap, your thighs on either side of his lap as you glanced down at him.

His breath was hot on your exposed neck, his fingers running up your thighs. You could feel his growing bulge underneath you, the way his hips bucked up to press against you, making your pussy throb and ache.

“Gator,” you whispered shakily. You lifted your arms as he pulled your dress off, throwing it to the side. He wrapped one hand around you and unclasped your bra in one swift movement. Gator watched in awe as it fell onto the seat beside the two of you.

You shifted slightly to help him unzip his sheriff vest which he dumped to the side rather hastily. You glanced down, cheeks still flushed, rocking your hips to meet against his, a moan leaving your lips at the right amount of friction. His large hand made its way to squeeze your breast as you continued grinding against him, breaths getting shorter. 

“So pretty,” he said, half-lidded gaze as he looked down at your bare torso. He rolled his thumbs over your hardened nipples, earning another moan from you. “Damn, you’re loud tonight, huh? Missed me that bad?”

You were too busy pressing yourself against his clothed bulge to reply, rocking your hips forward a little sloppily. Your eyes met his, and you couldn’t even think about how wrong this was anymore. All you wanted was Gator. 

He blinked up at you, then latched his mouth over your right breast, tongue swirling around your nipple, sucking briefly before moving his head back. He pinched your left nipple hard, making you moan again. “Come on, tell me you missed me or I’ll stop.”

“Missed you, yeah, of course I did,” you were mumbling, the zipper of his pants rubbing right against your clothed clit, granting you the pleasure you were so desperate for. You gripped his shoulder. “Missed you so much, Gator.” 

“That’s what I thought,” he replied smugly, lifting his hips to meet you halfway. 

You were cupping his cheek and about to lean in for a kiss when your phone buzzed in the cupholder. You glanced over your shoulder, noticing your boyfriend’s name, Jake, light up on the screen. Shaking your head, you turned back, guilt clawing its way up your throat. You had completely forgotten about him. 

“Answer it,” Gator said, smacking your thigh with enough force to make you yelp. 

“What?” you asked, placing a kiss on his neck, trying to distract him. He groaned slightly in response, but it wasn’t enough.

He pulled you back by tugging on your hair a little harshly. “Answer it, darlin’,” he ordered, his voice dripping with condescension. “I’m sure he’s worried sick. Poor bastard.” 

The hard look on Gator’s face made it known he wasn’t fucking with you. So with a shaky intake of breath, you reached back and picked up your phone. Your fingers trembled slightly as you put the phone to your ear, clearing your throat when Gator immediately lifted his hips to grind against you. 

“Hey,” you managed to croak out as Gator pinched your nipple again, watching as he used his free hand to unbuckle his belt. The smirk on his face as he watched you was stupidly hot. 

You almost didn’t hear the sound of Jake’s voice through the phone, your eyes fixated on watching Gator as he hastily unzipped his pants, the speed at which he worked making it clear he was just as desperate for you as you were for him. It made you smile a little.

“Where are you, babe?” Jake asked, his voice slightly concerned. You were too busy trying not to make noise, watching Gator pull his hard, dripping cock out of his boxers, licking your lips. “You said you’d be here by six. Everything okay?”

You cleared your throat again, eyes fluttering as Gator’s mouth moved back onto your breast, pressing his tongue against your nipple as he pumped his cock with his hand. 

“Y-yeah,” you managed to answer. “Actually, no… I… I’m gonna be late-”

Gator bit down on your nipple suddenly, making your words die in your throat. You bit your lip hard, trying to suppress the whine that was going to leave your mouth. 

“No,” Gator mumbled against your breast.

“Sorry, I- I mean,” you gripped the back of his head, trying to push his mouth off you, to which he complied, leaning his head back against the headrest of the seat, smirking at you lazily. “I can’t make it. S-something came up.” 

“Did something happen?” Jake asked.

“No, I’m fine, just-” you tried to make your voice sound as even as possible as Gator gripped your hip, stuffing his free hand down your panties. You shook your head, wide eyed, as his index finger traced your slick, wet folds. He tapped your thigh, and you lifted your hips at once, watching as he tugged your panties down.

“Just what?”

With some careful maneuvering and trying your best to suppress a laugh, both you and Gator had managed to get you out of your panties. You shifted back onto Gator’s lap, your skin prickling at the touch of his cold fingers as he helped you get comfortable again.

“Babe, are you still there?” Jake’s voice came through, making you sigh. 

“Y-yeah, I’m here,” You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to think of an excuse that wouldn’t leave Jake super upset with you. But it was hard to think of something with the way Gator was rubbing the head of his cock over your lips. His breathing was heavy and his previously slicked back hair was now falling onto his eyes as he watched you.

“Is everything okay?” he asked. “Why can’t you come?”

“Yeah, everything okay?” Gator mocked in a whisper, guiding the head of his cock up to your entrance. He rubbed his tip against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body that made you force out a cough to cover your whimper. He glanced up at you, reveling in the sight of you struggling to keep quiet, a wide smile on his face. 

“I… got my period,” you blurted suddenly, making Gator snort in response. You put your hand over his mouth and he made a soft noise in protest, but allowed it. “My cramps are really bad, so I can’t make it.” 

“Oh,” Jake responded, sounding disappointed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care with the way Gator was pressing his cock against your clit, making your head spin. “Do you want me to come over? Do you need anything? Chocolate? Medicine? My cuddles?”

A soft sigh left your lips, mouth agape as Gator pushed the head of his cock into you a little. Your hand that was over Gator’s mouth immediately transferred to clamp over your own, trying to suppress your moan as he lifted his hips, sliding his cock slightly further into your pussy, trying to take it slow. 

“Fuck, he’s annoying,” Gator mumbled, his voice a little strained. “Need me to hang up for you?”

Squeezing your eyes shut again, you swallowed hard. “No, I’m fine.” You weren’t sure who you were saying that to. “Please, just- please tell your parents I’m sorry and I’ll make it up to them.” 

“Sure-”

You ended the call and dropped your phone before he could finish his sentence, making Gator chuckle softly.

“That desperate, huh?” he whispered. “I thought he fucks you better than I do?”

“We haven’t had sex yet,” you admitted, too far gone to care about your dignity anymore. To which in response, Gator groaned lowly, bucking his hips up to push his fat cock in all the way into your throbbing hole. The moan that escaped your mouth was pornographic, gripping his shoulder tightly. “Gator.” 

“Yeah? Dumbass hasn’t fucked you yet?” he moaned as you started bouncing on his cock, the feeling of his balls hitting against your skin making you squeeze around him. “What- fuck, what a stupid guy.”

You cried out as he fucked up into you deep. Both his hands were gripping your hips tightly to keep you in place, guiding you on the length of his cock, and you didn’t mind that he had basically taken over, setting his own pace. 

“M-missed you,” you mumbled again, voice cracking. You leaned your head forward, kissing his neck a few times. You found it a little embarrassing, how he was still clothed and you were completely naked on top of him. But it was also a little hard to care with the way he was fucking into you, his length hitting your sweet spot in a way that made your eyes water. You were whimpering and whining, body burning with pleasure. 

“I know,” he replied, “I missed this too, fuck. My poor baby, haven’t been fucked in months, huh?”

“I- I haven’t,” you mumbled. 

“Poor thing,” he cooed, pushing some hair out of your eyes. “My poor, sweet, pretty thing.”

You whined and whimpered, clawing at his shirt to hold onto something, the pleasure overtaking you in a way you couldn’t handle anymore. You could barely speak, incoherent mumbles leaving your mouth, and Gator knew you were close. 

“Are you gonna come, sweetheart?” Gator purred softly in your ear. 

You nodded, whining softly, feeling his thumb rub against your clit, the pleasure swirling inside you starting to build up further. Gator’s breaths became rapid as he thrusted his cock up with more force.

It was difficult to tell who came first. The way you were burying your face in the crook of his neck, pleasure hazing over your mind as you clenched around his cock, the way he was moaning beneath you. His thrusts slowed as he came inside you. You couldn’t help but sigh contentedly, you’d missed the way he filled you up. 

Cheeks flushed, you glanced down at him, the way his hair was now messed up, the cloudy look in his eyes as he tried to level his breathing. He was avoiding your gaze, much like he usually did after he came.

After a few more moments, you tried to get off his lap, but he gripped your hips suddenly to keep you in place. 

“Not yet,” Gator mumbled, squeezing your hip. He placed a few kisses across your neck, then leaned back in the seat, glancing up at you. His hand was caressing your ass. “You’re coming back to mine, yeah?”

You gulped. You could feel his cum dripping out of you, his cock still buried deep inside. The shame of what had just happened was hitting you, making your stomach turn with guilt. You had no idea what this meant for your relationship with Gator. Or your boyfriend. But still, you nodded.

“Yeah, sure.” 

[thoroughlymimi]

Four Winds

Gator Tillman x Reader

18+ | minors do not interact

Masterlist

Summary: You’re holding everything together; livestock, land, and a father who won’t admit he’s struggling. Days blur into routine, nights come too fast. There’s never quite enough time, never quite enough help. Then Gator Tillman starts showing up. At first, it’s nothing. A hand here, a quiet presence there. But he keeps coming back, slipping into the edges of your life in a way that starts to feel… steady. And somewhere between shared work, long silences, and the kind of exhaustion that strips everything down to what matters, something shifts.

Note: I can't get enough of Gator, I'm not even sorry. As with my other fics, this is long as heck. I live for all your lovely comments so thankyou and enjoy! Mimi <3

Part One: Spring

Part Two: Summer

Part Three: Fall

Part Four: Early Winter

Part Five: Mid Winter

Part Six: Late Winter

Part Seven: Spring

Part Eight: Summer

Part Nine: Fall

Part Ten: Winter - Coming 15/04

[entrenoussir]

We Were Friends (Gator Tillman x Reader) - In Progress

Story Masterlist

Back in town after the death of your parents, an old childhood friend/annoyance makes an unwelcome reappearance. Gator Tillman already lost you once - he doesn’t plan on letting it happen again.

TW/CW: smut, groping, Gator being a possessive piece of shit (fork found in kitchen), no use of y/n, car sex, oral, discussion of birth control, shower sex, sex w dubious consent, non-con somnophilia, death of parents mentioned.

We Were Friends (Part 1)

We Were Friends (Part 2)

We Were Friends (Part 3)

We Were Friends (Part 4)

[thoroughlymimi]

Memories Of You

Gator Tillman x Reader

18+ | minors do not interact

Masterlist

Summary: After fleeing a controlling relationship, you return to the remote cabin your grandfather left you outside Fargo, hoping for a quiet fresh start. Instead, old memories begin resurfacing—along with Gator Tillman, the boy who once knew you better than anyone. As your past slowly unravels, it becomes clear that the life you left behind isn’t done with you yet.

Note: When I tell you this is 100% self indulgent. This is literally based on my own memory problem lol. Like I can’t remember anything from before I was sixteen/seventeen, my brain just went ‘nah, you don’t need that’. Also, it definitely wasn’t supposed to become a NOVEL but I just got into it, apologies. Anyway, if you hate it, that’s cool, love you. Mimi <3

Part One: Thick as Thieves

Part Two: Dust and Dreams

Part Three: Daughters and Dealings

Part Four: Storms and Scars

Part Five: Rubble and Records

Part Six: Love and Lightbulbs

Part Seven: Cabinet of Curiosities

Part Eight: Papers and Pursuit

Part Nine: Campaigns and Corruption

Part Ten: Trust and Truth

Part Eleven: Windows and Worries

Part Twelve: Lunch and Liaisons

Part Thirteen: Calls and Coffee

Part Fourteen: Mugshots and Mirrors

Part Fifteen: Mothers and Microphones

Part Sixteen: Parties and Promises

I am so grateful to everyone who has read this series, you are legends. There is a chance I may come back and write a Part 2 at some point, but for now this is complete. Mimi <3

[keer-y]

Carriage House

You know you don’t belong on the Tillman Ranch. The sheriff thinks you do.

MASTERPOST••• Chapter 1: Business Hours Chapter 2: Dropout Chapter 3: Leads Chapter 4: Structure Chapter 5: Carriage House Chapter 6: Eights Chapter 7: Broken

[ongoing]

[noorgee]

Can someone PLEEEEEAAAASE link that one Steve fic where the reader and Steve are roommates and she starts imagining Steve instead of her bf and ends up saying Steve’s name during it… I’ve been thinking about it nonstop IM BEGGING

[insomniacpen]

HERE AGAIN

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪series masterlist⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

pairing: gator tillman x fem!reader

summary: an unexpected letter announcing the death of roy tillman forces you back to go back to your hometown of lehigh with your teenage daughter after nine years. you want it to be as simple as showing up for the funeral, but the town has a way of sucking you in. or maybe it's your ex husband, and the father of your child, gator tillman. somehow, the burial of roy tillman leads to too many of your old secrets getting dug up, and the resurrection of feelings you thought you had long forgotten.

warnings/tags: 18+ mdni, second chance romance, ex!husband!gator, dad!gator, slowburn, heavy themes of domestic abuse, childhood trauma, misogyny, death/grief, teenage pregnancy, struggles of young parenthood, small-town secrets, cheating (sorry but for the dramaaa), probably smut eventually, reader and gator are in their early 30s

status: ongoing

"Being back here makes me hot in the face Hot blood in my pulsing veins Heavy memories weighing on my brain Hot and heavy in the basement of your parents' place You used to be so sweet Now you're a firecracker on a crowded street Couldn't look away even if I wanted Try to walk away but I come back to the start." - Hot & Heavy, Lucy Dacus

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪chapter summary

ch1: back to the old house ch2: wary as a dove

taglist (comment to be added): @thesecretoftheswan, @aecd27, @wolfiee10, @officerrrfriendly, @steviaorsugar, @valentine-night, @nosebeers, @acdassenza, @literal-tv-menace, @torntaltos, @luminousdoomsellsworld, @pietrothemovie, @megoshh, @djobug, @eleanor-harrington, @stevesbabe10010, @dopeysunflowers, @bells-bookshelf, @itsdjoverr, @ms-mountebank, @ripmornings, @purplequeen64-stuff, @theshiniestgemstone, @adoreyou-ido, @talesofathirtysomethingnothing