#joe keery x me

[mrspascalsworld]

so i saw the new pics of joe at the us open and it gave me another inspiration to make more joe art😍

i’m obsessed with this ideaaa ahhh🥰

thank you for the inspiration @freckledjoes

[matchingbatbites]

"What the fuck did you do?"

Eddie wasn't expecting hostility when he answered Jeff's phone call, his best friend's usual calm demeanor replaced with open annoyance. And yeah, okay, the annoyance itself wasn’t new, but Eddie doesn’t think he’s actually done anything recently to earn it.

"Well-"

"Actually, no. I'll tell you what you did. You retweeted photos of Steve Harrington - internationally beloved heartthrob actor Steve Harrington - along with the caption 'not to sound like a subby slut but GOD I would be his puppy baby boy in a heartbeat'. So I guess the better question is, what the fuck were you thinking, Eddie?"

Eddie's jaw clicks shut because- yeah, he had done that. Had seen those photos of Steve smoking circling the internet and spent god knows how long just staring at them, had curbed the desire to shove his hand down his pants by posting a single thirst tweet about it.

“I was thinking, Jeff, that I'm allowed to post whatever I want to my private fucking twitter, man. I mean it's a free country, isn't a guy allowed to make a horny tweet about a sexy man every now and then?”

“You are, when you actually post it to your private account and not our award winning band's main account.”

No. Oh no. There's no way Eddie actually-

He rips his phone away from his face to open twitter, and realizes two things simultaneously. One, Jeff is right, he had posted it to the band's account. Not on his private, locked, personal account, but on the account that's actually open and free for literally anyone on earth to look at.

The second thing he realizes is that their notifications are currently flooded with responses to Eddie's tweet, somehow racking up into the thousands in the few hours it's been since. 

Jesus Christ.

“Eddie?”

The metalhead jerks back into the moment and put Jeff on speaker so he can scroll through the horde of replies, says “Fuck, I fucked up. Are we gonna have to do damage control on this?”

In the mess is a reply from Gareth's own personal account: @ corrodededdie stop tweeting from the band account challenge 🙄🙄🙄

”Maybe. There hasn't been any type of response from Harrington or his people, but they might ask us to take it down if it blows up too much.“

Eddie hums, thinking they might be too little, too late about it blowing up too much, and flips over to his main account so he can reply to Gareth's little jab appropriately. He isn't surprised to see that he has a couple of new messages, probably from other people wondering just what the fuck Eddie was thinking, but when he goes to check them-

He's never been happier that he turned on messages from followers only, because then he would have missed this, missed Steve Harrington's little profile picture beaming up at him from the screen of his phone, along with a new message request.

”Jeff, I gotta go,” he says, not even realizing he's cut the other man off.

“Eddie, what-

”Harrington messaged me. I'll call you back.“

Eddie doesn't wait for a response as he hangs up on Jeff, and his hands definitely aren't shaking as he opens the message from Steve. And listen- Eddie is a fan of the guy, that much should be obvious. 

Steve had grown in popularity around the same time Corroded Coffin had; he’d gotten some part in a drama film that had skyrocketed him into stardom, and Eddie fell in love the moment he saw that gorgeous face on the silver screen for the first time. He's never had a chance to interact with the guy, has been in the same place a few times but always missed him, like ships passing in the night, but Eddie's been fine with pining from afar, just like every other person on the planet that's even remotely attracted to men.

Besides, even with how popular Corroded Coffin has gotten over the years - a couple of Grammy’s here, a dozen chart topping metal songs there - Eddie doesn’t expect Steve to just. Know who Eddie is.

With all of this in mind, Eddie is expecting some kind of semi-casual request to take the tweet down, that it's not a good look for his image-

Anything other than what Steve actually sent.

'If you're puppy baby boy, does that make me Master? Or Daddy?'

And Eddie- 

Eddie slides down, sinks into his couch cushion as all of the blood in his body suddenly shifts, rushing to fill his dick like it's a fucking race. The phone almost slips out of his hand and he fumbles it briefly before taking a deep breath. 

Is Steve serious? He wouldn't send that if he wasn't serious, right?

This could be it, could be Eddie's one chance to impress Steve, to get his foot in the door of Steve's interest. He bites his lip and types out a reply, something quick that he sends before he can change his mind.

‘I’m open to either, actually. Do you have a preference, sir?’

He doesn’t expect the typing indicator to come up immediately, and just knowing that Steve is somewhere right now, typing out a response to Eddie, is enough to have him nearly vibrating in his seat.

‘I’m partial to Daddy, myself.’

Fuck fuck fuck.

Eddie takes a breath, tries to think of a response that isn’t just ‘Please, Daddy, can I sit on your massive dick that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since that one indie film you did that just had all of your junk out in the open?’

Steve saves him by sending another message.

‘But maybe we could start with Steve, and possibly dinner? Though I’d be happy to see where things go after that.’

He- What-

Eddie must have stopped breathing, because the next time he takes a breath his lungs burn, his mid races because there’s no way Eddie’s long term celebrity crush just asked him on a date. He sits there long enough that the screen goes dark and he scrambles to turn it back on, sees the message still there, real and unchanged.

There’s no way he can say no to this, to Steve, and his hands shake as he types out a response.

‘Dinner would be great. Just name the time and place, Daddy.’

[travelingtwentysomething]

Steve definitely doesn't have a type...

[theghostinyourwalls]

I eat it up every time

[ryan-waddell11]

this is the other love of my life if y’all weren’t aware

[infinite-orangepeel]

why does it feel like this line being redacted ripped a steddie shaped hole in the space time continuum ? i want answers

[ssweetleaf]

hi i’m sophie! would i be able to request anything about riding gator for the first time? maybe he’s real big and you need some encouragement 🫣

SMUT 18+ below

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Your thighs were flush against his, knees digging into the mattress, aching already from your constant hovering— not yet breaching the distance between you two because of how nervous you were. 

Gator’s cock was heavy against his stomach, twitching every so often, impossibly hard and ready, already leaking pearlescent little droplets of pre-cum that had you mindlessly salivating when you caught sight of it.

And it wasn’t that you weren’t turned on, you absolutely were— your slick arousal slipped down your thighs as proof, soaking his skin and your poor clit was throbbing, just begging for attention, like the mere touch of the rough pad of his thumb.

He was just so big.

“What is it, hon?” he hummed, a big hand reached out for you, smoothing against the supple skin of your ass as a sort of comfort. “Can see ya thinkin’ too hard.”

You bit the skin of your lip, casting your gaze downward, trying hard to keep the sight of Gator’s too big cock out of your vision.

“You’re just—” you hiccuped, hands slipping from his shoulders and making their way to your sides before he grabbed your wrists, keeping you there, wanting you to stay flush with him, to feel your skin on his and to quench his thirst for your touch. “Just so big.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, cocking a brow at you, trying hard and miserably failing to keep his smirk at bay.

“S’not funny, Gator— you might split me in half!” You pouted, smacking at his pec, huffing at the now constant pull at the corner of his lips.

“Baby, I’ve fucked you before, remember?” He mocked, hand still smoothing over your skin, your back this time.

“That’s different,” you whined, pout still prominent and you nuzzled your face into his neck, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his cheap cologne before sighing out. “M’scared I won’t be able to take you this way, daddy.”

Gator tried to ignore the jump of his cock from your little nickname for him, carding his fingers through your hair and shushing your silly thoughts of getting split in two.

“Of course you’ll be able to take me, honey,” he cooed, “you’re my best girl, remember? Ya always take me so well, even when I rough ya up a little.”

Your hips shifted at his words, cheeks searing in a flush, and the tip of his cock bumped at your clit from your movements, a soft whine escaping the confines of your throat at the act.

His voice was low, heavy on the shell of your ear.

“Daddy’ll guide ya, hon— no need to worry.”

send me asks/my inbox is open

[hotluncheddie]

For the @steddie-spooktober day 20 prompt : cryptid

rated: T | cw: none | tags: flirting, Robin Buckley, idiot 4 idiot

👋👋👋👋

Eddie swings his legs from his perch on the counter of family video, basically his second home at this point.

(His budding (major) crush on one resident of his new home none withstanding. And the way the new trailer is just, way too quiet, and fucking eerie; is also none withstanding.)

‘No but the lock ness monster is totally real, like why else would all those scientists be snooping around there otherwise.’ Eddie says, arguing over dumb shit with Robin is a real pull for his second home.

‘You ever think there might be other scientific discoveries to find there? Maybe pretending there’s a big monster helps them get funding?’ She says, scribbling little black eyes on her napkin ghosts and threading them so steve can hang them up around the store. It’s technically against policy but since Steve basically runs the place now, they think it’ll be fine.

Eddie flaps his hand at her, much too realistic for his liking. ‘Pffff as if! Ste-‘

‘No.’ Steve cuts in, voice a little strained as he stretches to hook a piece of string. ‘I want no part of this.’

Eddie lets it go, much more distracted by the line of Steve’s body as he reaches, perched on his little step stool. ‘Now big foot on the other hand, that’s something I know you can get behind Bobbie.’

‘Some hairy guy with big feed running around a forest? I mean, I guess, it’s not my favourite though.’

Eddie sighs, a little wistful. He, personally, would love a little time in the woods with a big hairy guy.

A balled up napkin hits him in the head. ‘Stop being so gay in my store.’ Robin says.

‘Big feet. Big hands too, what more could a guy ask for.’ He says to himself, leering a little at Steve.

‘You know what they say about big feet.’ Steve says offhandedly, with a shrug and a dorky wink. Then he walks off into the back room for more string - leaving Eddie to bang his head against the counter and groan until Robin asks him to take it outside.

👋👋👋👋

Tag list : @scoops-aboy86 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @marvel-ous-m @thecatkingsthrone

@cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots @chameleonhair

[liyliths]

౨ৎ ⋆ ｡˚ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍

summary: you wind up a monster hunter, also third wheeling nancy and jonathan until steve harrington of all people shows up, surprise! between genuinely thinking you're going to die, fighting a monster, and trying to get will back, you're still wondering how you ended up in hawkins of all places. and, what's better, going back to living with your pos dad or fighting interdimensional monsters? you also find out steve harrington isn't as bad as you thought he was, yay!

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Is King Steve realizing he might not be a king after all?” She teased, watching with amusement as he winced at the nickname, waving her off. "Please, don’t call me that," he groaned, rolling his eyes as he stepped closer, closing the distance between them. "And, uh, Carol and Tommy? Yeah, they turned out to be real assholes."  Y/N shrugged, her tone light but knowing. “You were an asshole, Steve Harrington.” She pointed a finger at the boy’s chest, before giving him a slight, playful shove. Steve’s shoulders slumped slightly as he gave a small, regretful shrug. “I guess we all were, and I’m sorry.” Y/N’s lips curved into a grin as she met his gaze, her eyes softening. “Apology accepted.”

pairings: steve harrington x reader

warnings: mentions of a fight, death, blood, injury, cursing, monsters, and use of firearms and weapons

word count: 8.3k

────────────────────────────────────────────

Outside Hawkins Middle School, the teens rushed to Jonathan’s car underneath the stars. Jonathan slid into the driver's seat, shutting the door with a sharp thud. Nancy climbed into the passenger seat, her eyes sharp and focused. In the back seat, Y/N slipped in and glanced between her friends, taking a deep breath.

“Will the kids be okay by themselves?” She was quick to ask, glancing between her friends in the front seats.

“They should be. We need to grab those supplies from the police station,” Nancy nodded, shifting in her seat and turning to face Y/N. “We can’t let Hopper and Joyce walk in there like bait. If we can kill that thing from up here, it’ll give them the upper hand.”

Jonathan nodded, “Then let’s grab what we need from the station and get the hell out of there.” He spoke as he ignited the engine, the car’s tires screeching against the parking lot asphalt as they backed out of their spot, rushing to the station.

𝐁𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

Jonathan killed the engine as the group piled out of the car, their breath visible in the dark fall air. They rushed to the trunk where they had stashed the hunting tools and traps they had recovered from the police station after breaking in. Nancy grabbed the gasoline, while Jonathan hefted a box filled with bear traps and other supplies. Y/N took a deep breath and picked up a bat, turning to look at her friends.

Jonathan’s eyes scanned the shadows of the yard, his voice steady. “Let’s get inside and set up. We don’t have much time.”

They set to work immediately. Jonathan placed the bear trap in the hall, nailing it to the floor to be sure it was sturdy. Nancy reloaded the pistol they had stolen from Jonathan’s dad, while Y/N shuffled around the house, checking the windows and making sure all their defenses were in place, then began pouring a gasoline trail leading to the bear trap.

After everyone finished their contraptions, they gathered in the living room. “Remember—” Jonathan began reciting their plan, glancing between the two girls.

“Straight to Will’s room, and—” Y/N recalled, with Nancy finishing her sentence. “Don’t step on the trap, then wait for the yo-yo to move…” She then glanced to Jonathan who gestured at the lighter in hand, clicking his tongue.

“We light it up.”

“Alright, are we ready?” Jonathan glanced up, the group stood in a tense circle. They each held knives to their palms, hands trembling. The plan was simple but terrifying: lure the Demogorgon with their blood.

“On three,” Jonathan’s voice wavered, betraying his nerves. He took a shaky breath, his eyes lingering on the girls, sensing their hesitation. “You guys don’t have to do this—”

“Jonathan, stop talking.” Y/N interrupted the boy, her voice strained but firm.

“I’m just saying, you guys don’t—” Jonathan tried to argue before Nancy’s voice cut him off.

“Three!” Her sudden shout cut through the tension, sharp and decisive, like the blade they all pressed into their palms. The room erupted into a flurry of movement as they each sliced their skin, blood spilling freely from their hands.

“Holy shit—this is going to scar,” Y/N gasped, clutching her bleeding hand with her uninjured one, trying to shake off the intense, stinging pain. She watched as blood dripped down her wrist and onto her fingers, meeting the floor beneath her.

“Quick, let’s get wrapped up,” Jonathan rushed to the first-aide kit by the couch, urgency creeping into his voice. Nancy winced as she looked down at her own crimson-streaked palm, her face pale yet determined.

The group worked in silence, the eerie quiet only broken by the rustling of bandages and the occasional hiss of pain. Jonathan focused on wrapping Nancy’s hand first, his movements quick but careful. Y/N noticed how delicately he handled Nancy’s wound and the way he looked at her with soft eyes—it was hard to miss.

“Did you hear that?” Nancy asked suddenly, her voice tinged with fear as she glanced toward the window, while Y/N continued bandaging her palm.

“It’s just the wind,” Jonathan replied, though his voice lacked certainty. He kept his eyes on Nancy’s bleeding palm, trying to finish the task at hand while the girl’s gaze darted around the room, her paranoia growing with every growing second.

“Jonathan, are you sure?” Nancy’s voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes wide with fear.

“Don’t worry,” Jonathan tried to reassure the girl, though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself, too. “My mom said that when it comes, the lights speak. They blink… think of them as alarms.”

Y/N nodded, but her unease was clear as she held her bandaged hand toward Jonathan. “Do you think this is tight enough?”

Jonathan glanced at her hand, noting the blood seeping through the white bandages. “Wrap it some more—”

A sudden, thunderous knock echoed through the house, cutting off Jonathan mid-sentence. The sound was so jarring that all three of them jumped, their hearts pounding wildly as they whipped their heads toward the front door. 

For a moment, they were frozen, caught between fight or flight as the reality of their situation hit them full force. A deafening silence followed the knock, each of them holding their breath, waiting for what would come next.

“Jonathan, are you there man? It’s Steve!” The boy’s voice shouted from the other side of the door, and the group looked at each other with panging confusion written all over their expressions. 

“Is Harrington seriously at my house right now?” Jonathan scoffed.

“I just want to talk!” Steve continued pounding on the front door. Y/N shook her head in frustration—mostly disbelief, glancing between Nancy and Jonathan. She stood from her seat, marching toward the front door.

Steve Harrington has the absolute worst timing ever. The door creaked open, revealing the boy. “Hey, Y/N—what are you…” Steve’s voice faltered, his eyes landing on Y/N’s figure. His usual perfect appearance was wild—his face bloodied and bruised from the fight with Jonathan, and his hair tousled and messy.

“Steve, listen to me. I’m serious. You need to leave.” Y/N’s voice was tense, her body angled to block the doorway, preventing him from seeing the chaos inside. She peeked through the crack, her bandaged hand gripping the doorframe.

“No, no—I’m not trying to start anything, okay?” Steve pleaded, his hand resting against the doorframe, eyes wide with desperation.

“Steve,” Y/N raised her brows cautiously, “I don’t care about that. You have to leave, now.”

“No, please listen I–I messed up, okay? I messed up! I just want to make things right. Please,” Steve pleaded, but his words trailed off as his eyes landed on the girl’s bandaged hand resting on the rim of the door, blood seeping through.

“Hey, what happened to your hand? Is that blood?” Steve’s face was etched with genuine concern, reaching out instinctively to examine the wound, but Y/N yanked her injured hand back, tucking it behind her.

“Nothing—it’s nothing. It was an accident, alright?” Y/N snapped, her patience wearing thin. 

Steve Harrington, after all he’d done—was the last person that should be wrapped up in this, and quite frankly, the last face on the entire planet Y/N wanted to see.

Steve’s brows furrowed, his concern shifting to confusion. “Wait—did Jonathan do this? Did he hurt you?” His voice wavered as his mind raced to put the pieces together. Before Y/N could respond, her words caught in her throat, and she watched as Steve’s expression hardened.

Oh shit.

“Let me in!” He demanded, shoving the door with force. Y/N tried to hold him back, but Steve’s determination overpowered her. He stumbled inside, eyes widening as he took in the chaos. His gaze landed on the bear trap, the weapons, and the mess strewn across the house. Nancy and Jonathan stood by the couch, watching the boy cautiously.

“What is all this? What the fuck…” Steve’s voice trailed off with bewilderment. He looked around, the acrid smell of gasoline filling his nose. He barely had time to react before Jonathan rushed up, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

“You need to get out of here!” Jonathan shouted, shaking the boy by his collar. “I’m not asking you—I’m telling you.”

But Steve Harrington’s skull was too thick to get through.

Steve jerked his arm free, glancing down at the floor with disgust. “What is that smell, is that—gasoline?” His voice wavered with disbelief. But before he could process it further, Nancy stepped forward, the sound of a gun clicking catching Steve’s attention—raised and aimed directly at him, while Y/N and Jonathan shared a stunned glance, taking a step back.

“Steve! Get out!” Nancy’s voice cut through the tension, panic edging her words. Steve’s eyes widened as he quickly raised his hands in defense, staring down the barrel of the pistol that was just a few feet away from his face.

“Wait, wait, wait, what is going on?” Steve stammered, attempting to wrap his head around the situation he found himself caught in.

“You have five seconds to get out of here!” Nancy shouted, her eyebrows furrowed together with determination.

“Okay—is this a sick joke? Put the gun down!” Steve’s voice grew louder, his hands held out in defense.

“I’m doing this for you,” Nancy raised her eyebrows at the boy. Steve’s heart thudded in his chest, his breathing heavy. 

“Nancy, seriously! What is—” But before he could finish, the lights above them flickered violently, the hum of electricity faltering. Nancy began counting down from three, with Steve pleading for the girl to stop.

“Nancy!” Jonathan’s sharp voice cut through the girl’s reverie, catching her attention. “Look at the lights!” His finger shot upwards and she followed his gaze—gasping. But Y/N didn’t waste a second. She grabbed a crowbar from the coffee table, her knuckles white as she clutched it while the others followed suit, collecting their weapons.

“Where is it?!” Y/N shouted, spinning in frantic circles as the lights flashed erratically, nearly blinding them.

“Where is what? Easy with that thing!” Steve’s erratic voice followed Y/N’s, watching her group with the others, backs against each other as she clutched her crowbar.

“I don’t see it!” Jonathan yelled out, eyes darting to every corner of the house, squinting to see through the blinding lights. “Hello?! Will someone please explain what the hell is going—” Steve screamed out frantically, demanding answers before getting cut off by a sickening crunch from above as the ceiling buckled. They were met with the horrifyingly tall figure of a monster crawling through—the Demogorgon.

Nancy didn’t hesitate. She began to fire at the monster as it hung in the ceiling through a coat of thick slime, but Jonathan grabbed her arm, dragging her back to the safety of the hallway to follow their original plan. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, her eyes flicking between her friends retreating and Steve stood frozen in place.

Without thinking, Y/N lunged toward Steve, grabbing onto the boy. Her grip was tight around his hand—double her size, yanking him down the hall as hard as she could. Steve stumbled as he was pulled away, following Y/N’s lead down the hallway—the Demogorgon screeching just behind them.

“Jump!” She shouted through the chaos as she passed the bear trap, and Steve barely registered the warning.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” He screamed, his voice raw with fear as he leaped over the trap, his hand clutching onto Y/N’s as if she were his lifeline.

They stumbled into Will’s bedroom, slamming the door shut behind them with a heavy thud, their hearts hammering in their chests. “Jesus Christ, what the—what the hell was that?” Steve blurted out through his ragged breath, his voice cracking with adrenaline.

“Shut up!” Nancy and Jonathan turned to face the boy, shouting in unison, their voices strained with panic. Nancy looked downward between Steve and Y/N, her eyes instantly locking onto their interlocked hands.

Steve’s breath hitched as he glanced down, suddenly noticing his hand still tightly intertwined with Y/N’s. His fingers, sweaty and trembling, lingered in hers as she shook with fear. Y/N’s heart dropped, and the sudden warmth of Steve’s touch hit her like a jolt of electricity through the panic—she quickly pulled her hand away, clutching it at her side.

Nancy hesitated before she shifted her focus to the door, weapon ready in hand—where the growling of the Demogorgon grew louder with each passing second. The floorboards outside the door creaked, and the walls seemed to tremble under the creature's weight, its shadow looming beneath the door as they held their breath.

Suddenly—the lights above stopped flickering, plunging the room into an unnerving stillness as the electricity hummed still. The relentless sounds beyond the door ceased, replaced by silence. The group let out a breath they didn’t even know they were holding, attempting to ground themselves.

“Do you hear anything?” Y/N whispered, her voice barely more than a breath as she glanced between the others.

Jonathan narrowed his eyes, trying to listen for any sign of the monster. He sighed heavily, the sound filled with both relief and dread. “No, nothing.”

After a few moments, Jonathan hesitated before opening the bedroom door, taking the lead with his bat readied. He peeked his head out, scanning the shadows. The others followed close behind, every creak of the floorboards underneath their feet thunderous in the silence, with each passing second becoming more and more unpredictable.

As the group cautiously entered the living room, their heads darted around as they took in the silence. The spot where the ceiling collapsed had vanished without a trace, leaving just a crack as if it were remnants of some sort of leak.

The Demogorgon was nowhere to be found.

Y/N turned around, snapping out of her thoughts to see Steve muttering to himself, “This is crazy, this is crazy, this is fucking crazy!” His brown eyes were wild with panic, hands trembling while he paced in frantic circles.

He suddenly paused, with desperation flashing in his eyes—before lunging for the Byers’ home phone mounted on the wall, his fingers fumbling to dial 911. Y/N, adrenaline coursing through her veins, stormed towards him, yanking the phone from his grip.

She could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her as she forcefully chucked the wireless phone across the room, the device clattering against the wall and shattering the tense silence. Steve looked at her, stunned, his erratic breathing mirroring the chaos in his mind.

“What are you, crazy!?” Steve's voice trembled as he held out his hands, desperation and fear etched on his bruised face. His eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of the looming threat. 

“It’s going to come back! So you need to leave, right now.” Y/N shouted, her voice laced with sternness as she fixed him with a determined stare. She watched as Steve hesitated—his eyes flickering between her, Nancy and Jonathan, and the front door.

With no words spoken, Steve made a sudden beeline toward the door, his footsteps echoing loudly in the silence of the room. As the boy hurriedly exited the house, the rest of the group gathered close in the living room, their backs against each other, eyes darting nervously in every direction.

“Is it going to come back?” Nancy questioned, her back pressed firmly between Y/N and Jonathan’s. Before anyone could answer, the lights above them began to flicker erratically, with wild shadows dancing across the walls. 

The Christmas lights strung around the room blinked in a dizzying array of colors, their intensity almost blinding in the dimness. Tension hung heavy in the air, their hearts pounding in sync with the erratic pulsing of the lights. They took labored breaths, looking between every corner of the house the eye could spot.

“Come on, you son of a bitch!” Jonathan readied his bat, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the base.

“Where is it?!” Y/N shouted, clutching her crowbar in hand.

"I don’t see—“ Nancy's voice faltered as the electricity abruptly cut out, plunging them into pitch-black darkness, leaving the group with just a few feet of visibility in front of them. A heavy silence settled over the house, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing and the faint rustling of the wind outside.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she cautiously turned around, examining her surroundings with what she could see, the air thick with dread. A strange grumbling noise sounded closely, and she narrowed her eyes, focusing on the odd figure before her—until she realized what it was. 

Just in front of her loomed a monstrous figure—its grotesque, faceless visage and pallid, slimy skin, gleamed in the dim light, a chilling reminder of the imminent danger she faced just feet away. 

Y/N's sudden scream pierced the air, her terror echoing through the house as Jonathan and Nancy whipped around to the scene unfolding before them. The Demogorgon moved with quick and terrifying speed, locking onto Jonathan and tackling him to the ground, sending the boy’s bat clattering away in the chaos.

Gasping for breath, Jonathan struggled to regain his bearings as Y/N, fueled by adrenaline, swung her crowbar at the creature in a desperate attempt to help her friend. The metallic clang echoed against its ribs in the dimly lit room, and they could only watch as the monster suddenly halted its advances on the boy.

The Demogorgon turned its attention towards Y/N and Nancy—its pale, slimy skin reflecting the dim lights of the room. It stood tall and menacing, its faceless visage haunting in the darkness. Jonathan, barely conscious, could only watch helplessly from the floor as the creature slowly advanced on his friends with deliberate—almost mocking steps, its presence dreadful.

“Nancy, do something…” Y/N’s voice shook, backing up cautiously beside her friend. 

She watched in the corner of her eye as Nancy raised the pistol she held in hand, aiming the firearm at the monster. Its face opened up, revealing the horrifying sight of a shape almost like a flower blooming underneath its flesh—with slimy and thin sharp teeth covering every inch beneath its skin. “Go to hell, you son of a bitch!” Nancy screamed as she pulled the trigger, the room lighting up with each round that went off. Gunshots echoed through the house, but dread filled inside them as the bullets had no effect—the monster’s skin was too thick. It kept advancing, making slow steps toward the pair. Nancy fired again, each step backward more frantic, desperately hoping the bullets would make some kind of difference until an empty click sounded. Heart racing, she fumbled to reload, only to realize she was out of bullets.

Their backs met the wall behind them, defenseless, only able to watch as the Demogorgon inched closer. Its rancid, deathlike stench filled the air, horrifying their senses. Y/N shut her eyes tightly, her breath hitching as the creature's growl rumbled just inches away. Suddenly, a hard shove sent her sprawling to the floor, landing on the back of her head harshly. She looked up, heart pounding, only to be met with the faceless monster towering above her—her mouth forming into a silent scream.

Her body trembled as dread settled into her bones, each shallow breath scraping her lungs, desperate and thin. Time seemed to slow into eternity as she stared at death just inches away from her face—the monster’s foul breath fanning across her skin, with thick, wet slime dripping off its mouth, splattering on her forehead. Her fingers clawed at the floor, searching for something—anything, to save her. 

The only thing she felt was the cold certainty that this was it.

A guttural grunt broke through the tension, snapping Y/N back to the present as a heavy thwack echoed off the Demogorgon’s thick skin. In a blur, the monster above her shifted its attention and she gasped—barely able to process the sight above her. Steve Harrington, breathing hard—eyes blazing with something between terror and fury stood before her, ready to take on the monster. 

Steve Harrington had just saved her life. 

The boy’s movements were much different than a few moments ago when he had scrambled out of the house in an escape—his body now ready to fight. Y/N could only watch as he dodged and weaved the Demogorgon’s relentless attacks, each move a desperate dance for survival.

With every opening, he swung the bat Jonathan had dropped, the wood and nails cracking against the monster's slimy skin. He drove it back, blow after blow, the force reverberating up his arms. The Demogorgon stumbled into the hallway, Steve’s strikes landing on its stomach, doubling it over. With a final, powerful swing, he forced it into the bear trap with a resounding snap.

“He’s in the trap!”

Nancy rushed to Jonathan, who was still recovering on the floor, urging him to get up and offered her hand to help. Steve quickly shuffled over from the hall to Y/N’s side, grabbing her hand and helping her up from the ground as she trembled. 

“You okay?” The boy was quick to ask, his eyes examining the girl as he delicately held her steady by her waist.

“I think so,” She breathed, nodding, ignoring the sting on the back of her head as she shifted her attention to her friends in the hall standing before the Demogorgon—preparing to finally kill the damn thing.

They watched the creature thrash around wildly in the bear trap, writhing against the jagged metal. Without wasting a second, Steve and Y/N rushed into the hallway. Jonathan fumbled in his pockets, pulling out a lighter. With a flick, he ignited it, then hurled it toward the monster, flames catching instantly on the trail of gasoline leading to the trapped beast.

The entire hall erupted into flames, the roar of the fire deafening. Heat blasted into their faces, singeing their skin and filling the air with the acrid smell of burning. The group shielded their eyes from the intense light, watching in horror as the Demogorgon writhed within the flames, its agonizing shrieks piercing the air.

Jonathan bolted from the hall and returned with a fire extinguisher, dousing the flames. A thick, white fog enveloped the hall, causing them to cough and squint against the harsh chemical mist. As the smoke cleared, they cautiously approached the bear trap in the charred hall, hearts pounding. The monster had disappeared, and no trace of it was left in the trap.

“Where the hell did it go?” Nancy’s voice trembled, barely above a whisper.

“It has to be dead—it has to be,” Jonathan panted, his eyes frantically scanning the space where the monster had been.

“Jesus—do you think it just melted into the fire or something?” Y/N grimaced, looking at leftovers of rancid skin melting on the trap’s metal. Suddenly, the Christmas lights hanging above them began to flicker to life softly, a section at a time toward the group as if something was walking in their direction. 

Everyone’s heart stopped, the question lingering in their mind whether the monster had survived on the other side. They backed up cautiously as the light slowly approached them, but something was different about it—the energy was calmer.

“Do you think that’s it?” Steve questioned, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I—I don’t know, it seems…” Jonathan tried to find the right words, stuttering slightly. “Different.” Y/N finished the boy's sentence. The lights then continued and crossed over the group’s heads, a trail of electricity lighting up toward the front door. They followed the light outside on the porch, watching a street light in the distance flicker off and on as they caught their breath, slight relief filling the air around them.

“Where’s it going?” Nancy murmured, watching the faint light in the distance.

“I don’t think that’s the monster.” Jonathan’s eyes narrowed as the group shared uneasy glances.

Realization dawned on Y/N, her eyes widening. “Hopper and Joyce.” 

Nancy turned to her, concern etched on her expression. “Do you think they’ve found Will?” 

“I sure as hell hope so,” Y/N sighed, letting out a shaky breath she didn’t know she was holding.

After a few moments of silence, the group began to retreat inside the house, but Y/N lingered on the porch. She gripped the railing and let her nerves settle, attempting to ground herself. Nancy and Jonathan made it inside, but Steve hesitated—pausing in front of the doorway, concern flickering in his eyes.

“You coming inside?” Steve’s voice was gentle, almost hesitant as Y/N stood on the edge of the porch, her gaze fixed on the shadowed woods. Her back was to him, shoulders tense, a slight tremble betraying her steady stance.

“Y/N?” he murmured, resting a firm but careful hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

Y/N turned slowly, wiping at her eyes. For a fleeting moment, Steve thought he’d caught her crying—but then he saw the spark of a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. Suddenly, she burst out laughing. She knows she shouldn’t, it’s absurd—but she couldn’t help it. Steve blinked, then found himself chuckling too, shaking his head. 

"Holy shit! I can't believe Steve Harrington just saved my life from a fucking monster!" Y/N exclaimed, her laughter infectious as her nervous system took over.

Steve smirked, looking out into the dark. "Oh boy, what would you do without me?” He muttered, shaking his head as he leaned against the porch frame beside her.

Y/N rolled her eyes, still grinning. “Guess I’d be a goner,” she replied, shoving her hands in her pockets. But as her laughter faded, a quiet settled between them, and she found herself glancing at him, studying the faint bruises and scratches on his face. "Didn’t think you’d come back, honestly.”

He could feel Y/N’s eyes on him. “Honestly, I didn’t think I would either,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “When I saw the lights flickering in the house… I was frozen. Part of me wanted to run, to save myself.” He paused, furrowing his eyebrows together as he softly shook his head.

“But then I thought about all of you inside. I guess it was finally time to stop thinking about myself for once.” He met Y/N’s eyes, hoping she could see the sincerity in his words.

“I get it, actually,” Y/N spoke, and Steve glanced at her, surprised. “You saved my life, Steve. I don’t know how to thank you for that. I know it’s not easy—showing up like this. Especially when people don’t expect it of you.”

He nodded, letting out a small sigh. “I mean… everyone’s got me pegged as this guy, right? King Steve,” he quotes, “the guy who throws parties, dates pretty girls, and looks good doing it. No one asks for more, and it’s easier to just… live up to it,” He paused, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“But I’m tired of everyone acting like they know me better than I know myself, especially my old man. Maybe if I look good enough on the outside, it’ll cover up all the other shit, y’know?” He spoke as he fidgeted with his hands.

Y/N’s gaze softened, her own expression guarded. “Yeah, well, if it makes you feel any better, you’re not the only one who’s had to play pretend.”

Steve looked at her, his curiosity piqued, and she hesitated before going on. “After my mom died, my dad was never himself again. He… wasn’t the type you’d want around. So, I learned early on that letting people in only gets you hurt.”

“Sounds familiar, but that’s not always true,” Steve murmured, their eyes locking in a long, weighted silence. After a moment, Y/N broke it, her tone soft but genuine. “For what it’s worth, you’re not so bad after all, Harrington.”

“Yeah? Well, you’re not too shabby yourself, Smith,” he replied, a small smile creeping onto his face as they leaned against the porch frame, earning a chuckle from the girl.

“Friends?” Steve straightened up, turning to face Y/N, his hand outstretched with a hopeful expression.

“Friends,” Y/N nodded, meeting his gaze as she took his hand in a firm shake. Y/N was grateful she finally got to see him—not Steve “the asshole” Harrington and most definitely not Steve “the king” Harrington.

Just Steve.

𝐇𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥

The moment the teens arrived at the hospital after receiving word Will was rescued, Jonathan was the first to sprint inside, rushing to ask reception where his little brother was. He was the only one who could see Will being immediate family, so the others retreated to the waiting room.

Nancy was the first to rush inside when she spotted her family, with Mike running from his seat and colliding into her embrace, almost knocking the girl down. “What happened?” Nancy held the boy’s shoulders, watching as his lips quivered and tears filled his eyes.

“El…” He looked up at his sister, until she pulled him into another tight embrace, holding the back of his head in an attempt to comfort him. The look in his eyes said it all—Eleven was gone.

The girl who helped them find Will was gone. That stung at Y/N’s heart—she’d only met her briefly, but she knew someone that young didn’t deserve what she went through. It wasn’t fair.

“We should go sit, yeah?” Steve’s voice broke through Y/N’s focus, gesturing toward the empty seats in the waiting room, his voice gentle. The girl nodded absently, before scanning the room once more—her heart plummeting to her feet. Hopper was nowhere to be found. 

Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway behind her. She turned, her heart leaping as she recognized the man. It was the Chief of Police—Hopper, approaching with a weary but relieved expression. “Hey, kiddo,” he spoke softly, his eyes filled with relief at the sight of the girl.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise and without hesitation she made quick, raced steps toward the man, her footsteps echoing in the corridor. She collided with Hopper, wrapping her arms around him tightly, as if he were her lifeline.

"I was so scared," she whispered, her voice slightly trembling.

Hopper held the girl close, his own emotions threatening to swell within him. "It's okay, I'm right here. I’m not planning on going anywhere, kid." He reassured her, his hand holding the back of Y/N’s head. They stood there, holding each other—grateful to find each other in one piece.

Y/N didn’t know what she would do if she lost him.

Suddenly, voices broke the stillness from inside the waiting room. “Guys, guys! He’s awake! Will’s awake!” Mike shouted, excitement spilling from him as he gathered his friends. Y/N pulled back from Hopper and watched as they bolted from their seats past her, turning a corner and sprinting to Will’s room. 

She was beyond grateful the boy was okay. Though the guilt still lingered in the back of her mind—if she had stayed with Will, and insisted on biking him home, none of this would have happened. No one would be hurt.

She was pulled out of her thoughts as Nancy suddenly brushed past her. She looked pale and fragile, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she hurried down the hall. Y/N glanced at Hopper, then at her friend disappearing around the corner.

“I’ll go check on her,” she murmured, concern pulling her forward.

Hopper gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be in the waiting room, kid.”

Y/N nodded, then followed after Nancy, her footsteps echoing softly in the quiet corridor. She rounded the corner just in time to see the girl heading toward the restrooms. Before Nancy could slip inside, Y/N called out gently, “Nancy?”

The girl turned around, her expression bitter and eyebrows knit together. “Are you okay?” Y/N asked gently, her arms crossing over her chest as she studied her friend’s face.

Nancy hesitated, her eyes flickering away from her friend’s. “Yeah, it’s just…” she trailed off, pausing. “I wish Barb were here, too,” she finally admitted, her voice trembling. The words hung heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the friend they had lost. 

Barb was gone. 

Y/N’s chest tightened, feeling the ache behind Nancy’s words. “Me too. I’m so sorry,” she said softly, stepping closer. She unfolded her arms, reaching out to pull Nancy into a comforting embrace. They held each other in silence, Nancy clinging tightly, as if afraid to let go of the last person who could understand her loss.

After a long moment, Nancy pulled back, her eyes clouded with guilt. She looked down, unable to meet Y/N’s gaze. “It was my fault,” she whispered, almost as if admitting it to herself.

“Nancy—” Y/N began, ready to reassure her, that she didn’t deserve to take on that kind of guilt. But Nancy shook her head, cutting her off.

“You don’t understand,” she continued, her voice thick with regret. “Steve invited us to a party. I didn’t want to go alone, so I… I made Barb come with me. I thought it would be fun—just one night.” She bit her lip, voice wavering. 

“But then… I ditched her. I ditched her to be with him, and I didn’t even realize she was gone until it was too late.” Her hand covered her mouth as she finished her sentence, as if speaking it made the guilt unbearable.

Y/N processed Nancy’s words, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. Nancy had never mentioned going to parties with Steve, much less bringing Barb along. She took a breath, her voice gentle but tinged with hurt. “Nancy… why didn’t you tell me?”

Nancy finally met her gaze, eyes wet with unshed tears. “Because I left her alone. I was supposed to be her friend, and I just… left her.” She paused, her eyebrows knit together. “I don’t think I will ever be able to forgive myself for that.”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in the back of her throat. She could see the guilt etched on Nancy’s face, the way her hands trembled ever so slightly as she held back tears. What could she say to ease that kind of pain? Nothing felt right, nothing seemed enough.

An uneasy silence settled between them, thick and heavy. Finally, Nancy dropped her gaze, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need a minute.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and disappeared into the bathroom, the door closing quietly behind her, leaving Y/N standing alone in the empty hall.

Her stomach twisted. She knew Nancy’s pain, understood that kind of guilt—and hated there was nothing she could do to ease it. Losing someone like that wasn’t a wound that healed, it was the kind that lingered, carving a mark that would stay with a person forever.

𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟒𝐭𝐡 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟑

Soft snow fell gently over Hawkins, blanketing the trees in pristine white. The night had settled in, bringing a cold chill that lingered in the crisp winter air. Christmas lights and decorations adorned neighborhood houses, bringing the holiday spirit. Jonathan and Y/N arrived at the Wheeler’s for a quick hello, and to pick up Will.

The harsh chill bit at Y/N underneath her jacket, and she folded her arms for warmth as Jonathan knocked on the front door. After a moment, Mrs. Wheeler greeted them, her face lighting up in a broad smile. “Jonathan! Y/N! Merry Christmas, come in!” Her voice was warm and familiar, instantly making them feel at home.

The pair thanked Mrs. Wheeler as they stepped inside, the warm air greeting them as they brushed snow off their jackets. Jonathan made light footsteps past the kitchen toward the basement to retrieve Will, but Y/N lingered at the entrance of the home, hesitating. She glanced inside the kitchen, seeing Mrs. Wheeler’s baked Christmas goods made with love. 

The girl took in a deep breath before treading toward the basement. As she turned a corner, about to follow Jonathan's path, she nearly bumped into Steve, who had appeared in the hallway. His hands were tucked awkwardly in his pockets, and he looked as though he'd been waiting for her. "Hey," he said, voice low.

“Hey,” Y/N breathed, meeting Steve’s gaze. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Truth is, ever since Will had been brought back home, nothing had been the same between any of them.

A few weeks after Will returned home, Y/N had been certain that Jonathan and Nancy would get together, though it never happened. She wasn't entirely sure why, there were a countless amount of reasons—but she saw how it crushed the boy when he and Y/N spotted Nancy and Steve making out in the school hallway, almost as if nothing bad had ever happened.

And Y/N would be lying if she said it didn't crush something in her, too. Steve and Nancy looked happy, sure. Happy in a way that made her feel both relieved and, unexpectedly—a little hollow. 

“I, uh, never got the chance to thank you—for what you said. That day in the alley, you know, the fight with Jonathan.” Steve tumbled over his words as he rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down at Y/N who gave a tight smile.

“Yeah, sure,” she replied, swallowing. “I’m really glad everything worked out for you, Steve.” 

An awkward silence stretched between them, neither of them quite knowing how to bridge the gap. Finally, Y/N cleared her throat, stepping away. "I should probably get going," she muttered, turning to wait for Jonathan and Will at the front door.

But before she could leave, Steve’s voice stopped her.

“Y/N?” He called out, stopping her in her tracks. She paused, glancing back at him.

"I'm... sorry," he began, his voice steady but filled with sincerity. “For everything. I shouldn’t have broken Jonathan’s camera, and I shouldn’t have said those things back in the alley. I was wrong.” His words hung in the air, and when Y/N met his gaze, she saw something genuine in his eyes, just like that night at the Byers house.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Is King Steve realizing he might not be a king after all?” She teased, watching with amusement as he winced at the nickname, waving her off.

"Please, don’t call me that," he groaned, rolling his eyes as he stepped closer, closing the distance between them. "And, uh, Carol and Tommy? Yeah, they turned out to be real assholes." 

Y/N shrugged, her tone light but knowing. “You were an asshole, Steve Harrington.” She pointed a finger at the boy’s chest, before giving him a slight, playful shove.

Steve’s shoulders slumped slightly as he gave a small, regretful shrug. “I guess we all were, and I’m sorry.” Y/N’s lips curved into a grin as she met his gaze, her eyes softening. “Apology accepted.”

Steve nodded, the corners of his mouth pulling into a small, genuine smile, one that reached his eyes. “Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he said quietly, his tone almost shy.

“Merry Christmas, Steve,” she replied, her smile lingering for a moment longer before she turned, heading for the front door—giving the boy one last glance over her shoulder.

As Y/N made her way past the kitchen with the scent of Mrs. Wheeler's baked goods filling the air, she spotted Jonathan and Will waiting near the front door. She was about to continue when Nancy suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs, a neatly-wrapped gift clutched tightly to her chest.

"Jonathan, wait up!" Nancy called out, her voice urgent as she hurried down the stairs toward him.

She stopped in front of Jonathan, a bright, warm smile spreading across her face. "Merry Christmas," she said, holding out the neatly wrapped gift to him. Jonathan hesitated, looking from the gift to her, his fingers brushing the wrapping before he took it, still unsure.

"Thanks, but—I didn’t get you anything. I feel bad," he admitted, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he looked down at the gift in his hands.

Nancy waved it off with a soft laugh. "No, it’s not really a present," she said, her tone light as she shrugged. "It’s… well, you’ll see."

Jonathan's brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face as he glanced at the gift in his hands, unsure what she meant. Before he could respond, Nancy stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on his chest. She leaned in and pressed a quick, unexpected kiss to his cheek. Jonathan blinked, his face flushing deeper as he pulled back slightly—caught off guard by the gesture.

Y/N took a quiet step forward, her presence breaking the tension. She met Nancy’s gaze as she stood beside Jonathan, offering a small, awkward smile. Her eyes flickered briefly between the pair before cutting through the silence. “Merry Christmas, Nancy.”

“Merry Christmas. I’ll see you guys later,” She gave a small smile before walking off toward the living room, sharing one last glance with Jonathan. He then looked toward Y/N and Will with a slight blush left on his cheeks, “you guys ready?”

Inside Jonathan’s car, Y/N sat in the back seat, her arms wrapped tightly around herself in an attempt to ward off the chill that crept in through the windows as the car warmed up, with a soft, steady snowfall creeping outside. Will sat in the passenger seat, his gaze darting between Jonathan and the small present nestled in his lap.

“I’ll drop you back off at Hopper’s, Y/N. We all buckled up?” Jonathan asked, his voice warm despite the cold.

Y/N nodded, offering him a grateful smile. “That sounds good, thank you.” Her eyes lingered on Jonathan for a moment, meeting his gaze with a flicker of appreciation before he turned back to the steering wheel and started the engine.

“Yep,” Will chimed in from the front seat, giving a quick nod. Then, his curiosity got the best of him, and he turned to the gift. “Can I open it?”

Jonathan grinned, a playful glint in his eye. “Yeah, sure.”

Will eagerly tore into the wrapping, his fingers quick and excited. As the paper fell away, the box inside was revealed—a brand-new, latest edition camera. He held it out so Jonathan could see, glancing at him with an awestruck smile. “Pretty cool,” The boy beamed, admiring the gadget.

Jonathan and Y/N exchanged knowing a look, both of them knowing exactly where it had come from.

Steve Harrington. 

𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐫

As Jonathan’s car slowed to a stop outside Hopper’s trailer, Y/N pulled her jacket tightly around herself, bracing against the chilly night air. Snow was still falling, blanketing the ground and trees in white. The lake once flowing with water was now frozen solid. She thanked Jonathan, wishing him and Will a good night before closing the door softly behind her.

As Y/N entered the trailer, the warmth greeted her immediately, the fireplace crackling to life in the living room. There were a few holiday decorations Hopper had put up with Y/N, and a small Christmas tree lighting up the corner of the room. Hopper was sitting on the couch, his expression somber but soft, as if he’d been waiting for her. Y/N slipped off her coat, hanging it by the door, before approaching him.

“Hey, kid,” Hopper greeted her, his voice low, a hint of something weighing on it.

“Hey, Hopper,” she replied, offering him a faint smile as she took the seat across from him.

After a pause, the man cleared his throat. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but... Well, it’s been busy. So... I got some news.”

Y/N felt anxiety creep in the pit of her chest, settling itself inside her as she sat across from Hopper. If this was what she thought it was about, she had been pushing down the sickening thought for months. The anticipation gnawed at her. “News about...?”

“Your father,” Hopper said gently, watching the girl carefully.

Y/N’s breath caught in the back of her throat, her chest tightening. They’d been waiting to hear something since the court hearing. The silence from her father—Thomas, had been telling, but still, she’d clung to the hope that he’d at least care enough to reach out. 

She didn’t know what she would do if she had to go back to live with her father—knowing it would only be a certain amount of time before he snapped again and lost another job and they moved far away from Hawkins, a place where she had found a home, repeating the endless cycle once more.

He was still her father after all, but she was starting to wonder if maybe—just maybe, she could belong somewhere else—somewhere far away from him.

Hopper cleared his throat, breaking through the heavy silence settled between them. “He didn’t show up to the court hearing today.” 

Y/N’s heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach. Her father, ultimately, just let her go to the state. No explanation—didn’t show up for her, like she hadn’t even mattered. “What?”

Hopper watched her, his face gentle with understanding. “Listen, I know that’s hard to hear. It’s a hell of a thing someone could do.”

“Yeah, it’s just...” Y/N hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I don’t know why I thought he’d at least try, you know? I guess... I just hoped maybe he’d want me.”

Hopper’s expression softened further, a sadness in his eyes that mirrored hers. “Sometimes people are like that. Selfish. They don’t do what’s right, even when it’s right in front of them. But that doesn’t mean you’re not worth more than he could ever understand.”

Y/N’s lips trembled. She couldn’t find the right words to say.

“Listen, kiddo. I can pull a few strings, and keep you here as long as I can while you’re in custody of the state since your father didn’t show.” Hopper began, pausing as he observed the utter defeat etched on Y/N’s expression.

She didn’t want to leave this all behind—she couldn’t.

"And while you’re here,” Hopper continued, adjusting himself on the couch, rubbing his hand absently over his mustache, “we could talk about something more… permanent. Maybe adoption, if that’s something you’d want.”

"Adoption?" Y/N repeated, the word barely a whisper, her gaze meeting Hopper’s. 

“Yeah, kid.” Hopper gave the girl a warm smile—one that didn’t show itself too often. “And that’s if you’re comfortable with it, and of course, it’ll take time for both of us to think about it. Sound good to you?”

Y/N took a breath, feeling something in her chest finally settle. "That sounds… really good," she breathed, a genuine smile breaking through the uncertainty.

“I’m glad,” Hopper grinned through his mustache, leaning forward as he ruffled Y/N’s hair, his large hand playfully tousling it until she let out a small laugh, swatting his hand away before he spoke. “There’s something else I’ll fill you in on, too. Good news.”

Y/N glanced at him as she fixed her hair, trying to flatten down the frizz. “What is it?”

Hopper exhaled, glancing around as though to make sure they were really alone. “I’ve... been looking into a few things lately. Some sightings and rumors—small, but there might be something there,” he paused. “It’s about El.”

“El?” Y/N’s eyes widened. 

Eleven. The girl who had saved them all, the one they’d thought was gone forever.

Hopper nodded. “Nothing’s for sure. But, I’ve got a feeling she might still be out there… hanging on.”

And Y/N hoped he was right. It tugged at her heart. After everything Eleven had done for everyone—what she’d been through at her age… the girl deserved a second chance at life. It wasn’t fair.

"And you know... how have your dreams been, kid?" Hopper snapped Y/N out of thought, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

They hadn't exactly stopped, but they were better than the last few months, especially when everything was going on.

"Haven't been having very many lately," Y/N shrugged, "so it's been fine."

“Good. Guess we should call it a night, huh?” Hopper said finally, giving a tired stretch, his arms rising above his head. “Can’t be staying up all night waiting on miracles.”

Y/N chuckled softly, nodding. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” She stood, brushing her hands against her jeans before glancing out the window where the snow continued to fall, blanketing the trailer in quiet white.

Hopper moved to stand by her, looking out into the dark, peaceful night. After a moment, he opened his arms in a rare invitation, his voice softening. “Merry Christmas, kid.”

Y/N looked up at him, a small smile spreading across her face as she stepped into his embrace. “Merry Christmas, Hopper.”

The truth is, nothing would be the same again. Y/N knew that. Between her life being at stake, and discovering monsters and superpowers are real against all odds—she didn’t need to ask for anything else. All she needed was right here, these people, in this town.

Maybe Hawkins wasn’t too terrible after all.

────────────────────────────────────────────

worlds apart navigation previous chapter

taglist: @anqelically @cupofjoekeery @steviespookie @hailqueenconquer @just-tiredman @x-theolivia @fuckshitslover @uselessnewt @kitdjarin1 @newyorkangelbaby

[katsu28]

to be alone together

pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

summary: steve has to work on valentine’s day, but maybe it’s not as bad as he thought it would be

warnings: none, 1.8k

a/n: u know i had to do a lil something for my steve girlies too <3 went for a more steve centric pov bc he is the definition of pining simp 

navigation

(gif credits to @harringtondaily)

“Kinda sucks that you gotta work tonight.” Robin’s voice through the phone pressed to Steve’s ear was staticky, but still provided a good distraction from the empty video store around him.

It was Valentine’s Day and Steve had been at Family Video since opening, watching couple after couple come in to pretty much clear the romcom shelves, and yeah, he was a little bummed about it, but there was no point moping around about it any longer than he already had been. 

“It’s whatever, honestly. Not like I had any plans to begin with.” He sighed, shifting the receiver so it was wedged between his cheek and shoulder as his fingers drifted down to fiddle with the pen on the counter absentmindedly. 

“Steve, that’s sad.” Robin replied. Steve wrinkled his nose, a slightly offended noise escaping the back of his throat. “No! I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant that you should be out and about, having a good time.” 

“You know what’s actually sad? You talking to me instead of paying attention to your date.” He shot back, only half serious. “Where’s Nance?” 

“Oh she’s right here. Say hi, Nance.” 

Steve heard a faint ‘hi Steve’ in the background and he returned the greeting. “What are you guys doing tonight?” 

“She made this really fancy pasta thing for dinner, we’re just waiting on the chicken to finish in the oven and I thought I’d see what was going on with you.” Robin sounded casual, but he knew this was her way of checking up on him since he was the only one on shift all day and she knew how he felt about today. 

“Rob, I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you, but I’m fine. It’s really not a big deal.” 

“Why don’t you just close up early, come join us for dinner? We have more than enough food.” 

“You’re seriously inviting me to crash your romantic dinner date with your girlfriend?” He snorted, rolling his eyes playfully. “What does Nancy think of that?” 

There was some shuffling on the other end, a bout of silence, then Robin was back on the line. “She’s giving me a weird look, nevermind. Now that I think about it, it wasn’t my best idea.” 

“I love you both, but you know I can’t.” 

The bell above the door jingled softly, drawing Steve’s attention away from his phone call and to whoever just walked in. 

Shit. It was you. 

You were dressed like you were supposed to be on your date, not here, hair and makeup done up all pretty, floaty dress in his favorite color swishing around your knees as you made your way into the store. It made him wonder if you chose that color on purpose, but he knew that you didn’t. You couldn’t have known you’d be seeing him tonight. Wishful thinking on his end though. 

“Rob, I gotta go,” He blurted, straightening up behind the counter. 

“Wait, what—” 

“I gotta go, she’s—someone’s here, I gotta help her.” 

“She? Oh my god, wait! Is it—” 

“Have a nice date, tell Nance I said bye!” With that, Steve hung up, slamming the receiver onto the base with enough force to send it skittering a few inches. “Hey, Y/N.” 

“Steve!” Your previously downturned lips lifted into a smile, one that had Steve’s heart thudding a little faster in his chest. It always did. “I didn’t know you were working tonight.” 

See, you were also part of the reason he decided to take the extra shift today, but through no fault of your own. You’d mentioned earlier in the week while you were hanging out with him and Robin that someone had asked you out for tonight, and Steve didn’t really know how to feel about it. 

You were friends, but had Steve been harboring a crush on you since pretty much the first day you met? Yes. 

Did he feel an itching sense of jealousy that you were going on a date with someone that wasn’t him? Also yes. 

Would he do anything about it? Probably not. 

Okay, so maybe he knew exactly how he felt about it. Hell, he’d picked up an extra shift to distract himself from it. 

“Yeah, I got called in last minute." A lie. "Aren’t you supposed to be on a date right now?” A casual, not at all hoping that it crashed and burned question. That would be mean. (But also a little gratifying for him.)

You chuckled, a tad bitter as you leaned forward, propping your elbows on the counter, the action sending a whiff of your perfume his way. Steve’s knees almost gave out. “Supposed to, yeah. But the guy never showed up.” 

Steve had to fight a noise of surprise. What kind of dumbass would skip out on a date with you? “Really? That’s—that sucks, I’m sorry.” 

“S’okay. Wasn’t really looking forward to it anyways.” 

“Oh?” 

“I didn’t really know him that well, honestly. He was a friend of a friend, asked me out in front of a bunch of people, and I didn’t really wanna turn him down and make it awkward.” 

“You’re way too nice, Y/N. And he’s an idiot for standing you up.” 

“Thanks, Steve.” You smiled warmly at him, patting his hand. Steve had to pretend his pulse wasn’t racing right now. “What about you? Why’re you here and not out with anyone?” 

“I, uh—I didn’t really feel like going out tonight. Don’t think I’d be a very good date anyways.”

“Oh, you’re just being modest. What girl wouldn’t wanna spend Valentine’s Day with Steve Harrington?” 

The one girl he wanted to spend this day with, he thought. You. 

“You’d be surprised.” He muttered. 

“Well then they’re idiots too.” 

A small smile quirked his lips. “Thanks.” 

“Hey, I just came to pick up some movies and spend the rest of my night shoveling down ice cream, but since we’re both here now and alone, d’you wanna…be alone together? Grab a bite to eat or do something?” 

Steve’s shoulders slumped defeatedly. “I’d love to, but I—I can’t. I gotta stay here til the end of my shift, Keith’s been on my ass about taking off early and as much as I hate the guy, I don’t wanna get fired.” 

“Oh, okay. Don’t worry about it, I’m, uh—it’s cool.” Was he hallucinating, or did you look disappointed? 

“Would you maybe wanna, I dunno, stay here? We can watch whatever you want and I know where Robin keeps her work snack stash. That way we can be alone together and I don’t get chewed out again?” Steve blurted hopefully. He was honestly expecting you to say no. Why would you wanna spend the rest of your already shitty night with him in a dingy video store? But then your face split into the biggest smile and you nodded, rocking forward on the balls of your feet earnestly. “Go pick something out, I’ll grab the snacks.” 

You scurried off to browse the near bare shelves, leaving Steve shaking his head amusedly in your wake as he watched you skim the tapes with a look of utmost concentration. He slipped into the back room to grab Robin’s last unopened bag of chips, making a mental note to buy more before tomorrow’s shift before returning to the video area.

He skimmed the store, spotting you in the romcom section, and when he made his way over, you were contemplating the last two tapes on the shelf. 

You beamed at him upon spotting him. “Pretty in Pink or Sixteen Candles?” 

“Am I allowed to say neither?” 

“You said whatever I want, Steve.” You said pointedly, propping your hands on your hips. 

“I did, didn’t I?” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. You let out a hum of pleasure, sliding your chosen movie off the shelf and wandering towards the TV in the corner. Steve hurried after you quickly, plucking the tape from between your fingertips and running away, not unlike a child would. 

“Steve!” You huffed, whirling on your heel. He grinned mischievously at you, waving it in the air like a taunt. You caught up with him within seconds, lunging for the tape that he held up above his head and away from your outstretched hand. Your body was pressed against his as you reached for it, as you leaned against him in a fruitless attempt to overpower him. “Steve, gimme the tape!” 

“No!” He laughed, but that laughter very soon trickled off as soon as he realized your proximity. You were so close, he could see the color of your eyes clear as day, looking right back at him. You’d fallen quiet too, as if you’d come to the same realization. 

You were nose to nose, faces a hair’s breadth away from each other, the stolen tape in Steve’s hands long forgotten. Every fiber in his body was telling him to pull away, because the longer he stayed here the weirder it would be when he finally did manage to retreat, but no matter how hard he willed himself to move, he couldn’t. Instead, his eyes flicked down to your lips. Your breath hitched almost imperceptibly. 

“Steve?” You whispered, gaze darting around his own face. 

“Yeah?” 

“Kiss me.” 

You didn’t have to tell him twice.

Steve dropped the tape immediately, closing the gap between you and pressing his lips against yours. His hands came up to cup your face, holding you firm but kissing you soft, like he was preparing himself to pull away if you did. But from the way you were returning his kiss, how your hands clutched at the front of his vest to keep him this close, it didn’t feel like you’d be pulling away anytime soon, and that spurred him on even more. 

One hand slid down to settle at your waist, the other curling around the back of your neck as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss just a little bit. 

Steve’s lips felt tingly when he pulled away, tasted of your cherry lip gloss when his tongue darted out to lick them. He was sure to have a little bit on his mouth now, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Not by a long shot. Cherry might’ve just become his new favorite flavor. 

“I really like you.” He breathed, chest heaving against yours. Your lips curved into a soft smile—the same smile that nearly sent Steve’s brain short circuiting every time it was aimed his way. 

“After that kiss, I’d sure hope so,” You replied, smoothing out his wrinkled shirt as best you could. “I like you too, just so you know. Part of the reason I was so okay with my date ditching me. He wasn’t you.” 

Steve could only beam at you, going in for another kiss. In his excitement, he missed his mark, hitting the corner of your mouth instead, but he didn’t care. The girl he wanted all along actually liked him back, and it only took one failed date and an extra shift to find out. 

Maybe working on Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all. 

[toobusybeingdelulu]

look who is speaking…

[theghostinyourwalls]

I wanna put my head a little lower than his shoulder

[harringtons-cupid]

𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 - 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Summary: The fifth anniversary brings an accidental conception.

Smut: (18+) Choking, finger choking, creampies, dirty talk, cunnilingus, cum eating, nipple pinching. Fingering, biting, clit spanking. Possible pregnancy risk

Fluff: Cute endearments, kissing, cuddling. Surprise trip.

| Masterlist | KO-FI | Divider credit |

Your bags were packed the moment you arrived home from work, Steve didn’t tell you where you were going only that it was a ‘Surprise’.

Leaving you in suspense for the whole car journey, he had packed you the necessary items for a long car ride.

Every question you asked was shut down, making you sulk in the passenger seat.

By the time he pulled up at the car park, you were asleep against the window pane. His soft voice tried to awaken you but you snored quietly.

“Baby, we are here” he tried again, shaking you lightly.

Groggily you opened your eyes, slightly annoyed at being woken up from your nap.

But looking at his gentle smile, you wobbled across the stoney entrance way towards the beach house.

The cool sea breeze snuck up your jumper sleeves, sending chills down your spine. Steve had already brought your bags inside, he helped you across into the house.

It was beautiful inside, situated right on the beach. The waves were lapping against the stoney front, a log fire was in the bringing warmth into the room.

You were in shock, it was your first holiday with Steve and he chose the most idyllic place. Your anniversaries usually meant that you and Steve sat uncomfortably at a rather expensive restaurant.

It was your 5 year anniversary, a big one in both your eyes but since your promotion. Niether of you had time to plan a date, let alone a holiday.

“Oh Stevie, this is wonderful” you clutched your face as you gazed around at the beach house.

He walked closer to you, smiling at you dreamily. When you first started dated Steve, he was very different to who he was now.

You could say that he found someone who loved him deeply for who he was.

As you settled into the sofa with him, glasses of wine were poured between you. You couldn’t believe your luck.

It was cold with the wind rattling the glass panes door, candles and the fire lit your ambience.

His hands stroked your skin softly, relaxing you even further than you thought you could be.

“Five years with me, how have you put up with me?” He teased, gazing into your eyes.

“I could say the same” you laughed with him.

Both of you pausing for a few moments to reminisce, downing your wine rather quickly.

“I love you” you said after a few minutes.

“I love you too baby” he whispered into your ear, his hand moving down towards your thigh.

You were wearing leggings with Steve’s oversized hoodie, his hand moved from your thigh and rested under your underwear.

Kissing you passionately, from your lips to your collarbones. Making your legs tingle as he bit and nibbled on your neck, a soft moan escaped from your mouth.

“Steve” you moaned at him as his hand trailed towards your clit.

“I think you have deserved a treat baby” he whispered in your ear.

His fingers circled your clit, causing your body to rise and fall at the sensation. The wine surging through your veins, giving a different kind of confidence.

“Please, I need it” you panted as he increased pressure against your throbbing clit.

He removed his hand just at the moment where you were growing more aorased.

Pulling your leggings and underwear down, he moved you so that his head was positioned at the right angle to eat you.

The pool of sensation was more intense by every passing second, his hands held your thighs down as he began to suck on your clit.

“Fuck, fuck” you panted heavily, needing him more and more.

The years together didn’t matter, you were always wet for Steve.

He mumbled against your wet pussy as he slipped a finger inside, you began to grind against his fingers and tongue.

“I need more Stevie” you whined, aching for more than his fingers.

Slipping another finger inside, stretching you out as he sucked harder and harder onto your clit.

You tried to hold in your orgasm but it was very hard, Steve was curling his fingers deeper and deeper.

You came hard against his face, he ate everything that you gave him.

He removed his face, taking heavy breaths as he continued to finger you.

“Such a good girl for me” he cooed, looking between your face and pussy.

You weren’t sure if you could cope any longer, your legs shook as you came for the second time.

Squirting against the sofa and Steve, he was smirking up at you as he removed his fingers. Watching you shake underneath him.

He thrusted your damp fingers into your throat, forcing you to suck your cum off them. He pushed them deeper until you gagged on them.

As you caught your breath, you laid there and watched him undress. He was beautiful.

His cock sprung out of his boxers, dripping with pre cum. He was desperate.

Rubbing his cock up and down of your aching pussy, you shuddered at the feeling.

Spanking the tip of his cock on your clit, your eyes closed tight as you mumbled with the intensity.

“Can I fuck your pretty pussy baby?” He whispered.

You nodded hazily, opening your legs further for him. Needing him more than you could admit.

“Please” you said tiredly, pulling him closer to you.

He played with your entrance before sliding inside you, groaning together as your pussy closed around his cock.

Starting off slowly, he gradually increased his thrusts as his hands played with your tits.

Squeezing and pinching your nipples making you whimper between every thrust.

“God baby, you feel so so good” he moaned into your ear.

After pinching your nipples enough that it began to hurt you, his hand snaked around your throat and squeezed.

You watched as his eyes flickered shut, guttural moans escaped him. His hands were tight around your neck and your hips rocked with his.

Just as your eyes rolled back, he released his hands around your throat giving you time between thrusts to catch your breath.

He leant forward and peppered your throat with his kisses, slowing down his strokes.

“You okay baby” he said against your lips.

Moving your hair from your face with a kiss, sweat clung to your body as you relax into him.

“Yes Stevie” you said quietly.

He loved being called that, especially during sex. The neediness you possessed, made him want you harder.

His strokes were still slow and gentle as he kept kissing you, you kept clenching and unclenching your pussy around him.

He was weak for you as he groaned onto your skin, grasping onto the edge of his orgasm.

“Fuck baby, I could cum any second” he shuddered.

You loved being in control of his orgasm. It made you feel powerful.

“Stevie, will you cum in me?” You cooed, looking up at him desperately.

Grinding your hips underneath him, lifting your legs tighter around his back.

There was something romantic about having sex with Steve as the sea battled against the sand outside.

“Oh shit, are you sure?” He groaned gutturally.

You knew that he wasn’t really able to control himself in this moment, he was close to cumming inside you.

Keeping up your momentum, you gripped him tightly as his cock twitched deeper inside you.

He came undone, cumming hard inside you. His fingers dug into your skin as he moaned loudly. He didn't pull out for a few seconds afterwards.

That was the thing with Steve, he fantasised about cumming inside you every time you had sex.

Children were not what you wanted yet but with Steve, you'd give him anything.

He held you in the same position afterwards, like he always did. Stroking your face and kissing you, the first night was incredible.

It would only get better with Steve by your side.

[edge-just-edge]

STEDDIE INCORRECT TEXTS

this is a real convo- I shit yo not

[bcyhoods]

prompt: [ glass ] sender and receiver are separated by glass. sender draws a heart on the glass with their finger for receiver to see

with steeb harrington 🤞🙄🤭🤨

i may or may not have sent this to myself! …i guess you’ll never know! this really is just to help jumpstart my creativity, so it’s ruff beware <3 | 1.2k fluff, gn!reader

“That was cruel, I hope you know.”

You stifle a giggle as you roll over to set aside the novel that you’d been reading aloud beside him.

You think he’s talking about the book. And he is, partially. But he can’t help the way that he yearns for your presence as soon as you move away without a warning. You’d so rudely ripped away the warmth that he’d selfishly been holding onto for the past hour — warmth that made him believe he’d only ever known to be cold. And yet, he can’t be entirely upset. Once he sees your mischievous grin from where you stand next to your bed, the grouchiness dissipates.

“I have to leave it on a cliffhanger! Otherwise you’d have no reason to come back,” you jest and poke lamely at his chest.

The multicolored quilt you’d been sharing was still draped over his figure, one arm extending out to reach for you. His hair was unruly and stuck out every which way after raking your fingers through the brunette tufts for so long. The dim light of your lamp highlighted the dusty pink color that spread across his cheeks.

You thought he was practically half asleep, but the joke made his brows pinch. Suddenly, he looks wide awake as he sits up to slide closer to you.

“That’s not true,” he grumbles with a scoff, throwing his legs over the side of the mattress and grabbing your hips. Something equally mischievous shines in his eyes. “I can think of a few other reasons.”

He pulls you into him, quick enough to have you tripping over your own feet and crashing against him. The force is almost enough to send you both back onto the bed and it sends a rush of heat up your neck. The kisses that he leaves against the exposed skin of your shoulder certainly don’t help, either.

In an effort to hide your embarrassment, you joke again, “That’s so cheesy, Steve.”

“What? No, it’s not!”

You shush him and quickly glance back at your closed bedroom door. He chuckles and beams up at you, letting his hands run along your sides.

“If you wanna hear something cheesy, though, I have a bunch more up my sleeve.” His voice is hushed and low, emphasized with a suggestive quirk of his eyebrow. “Maybe I should stay over so you can hear them.”

“Tempting. I’m not sure my parents would appreciate seeing you in my bed in the morning as much as I would,” you respond just as quietly, sparing another glance over your shoulder. He sighs at your apprehension and gently pushes you a bit away from him before standing.

His fingers dance lightly from where they rest on your waist, up your arms, and across your collarbone until they’re cradling your jaw. The touch leaves goosebumps in their wake, and when he sees you shiver, his boyish smile gets wider. He’s leaning into you and crowding your space with his eyes stuck on your lips. Just when he’s close enough for you to close the gap, he swerves instead to kiss the sweet spot just under your ear.

“Who says they have to know? I can be quiet. Can you?”

“Steve,” you warn as you lightly press your hands to his chest. Really, you’re all bark and no bite, there’s not even a little bit of edge. Steve is more than aware. Even if he wasn’t already looking at you, he would still be able to hear your smile in the way you sing his name.

He feigns innocence, lifting his hands from your face. “What?”

There’s a beat where you’re both quiet, staring right back at the other with grins that bring a welcomed ache in your cheeks. It makes your nose crinkle and makes your eyes widen and brighten. And it makes a delighted snort and giggle erupt from the pair of you before you can contain it.

That familiar burn in your face makes you hide in his shoulder and he laughs when he throws his arms around to embrace you. Your hands glide from where they’re trapped between your bodies to wrap around his back and hold him closer. Maybe if you hold him tight enough, time will stop.

Steve seems to think the same thing. His face is smooshed against the side of your head and his eyes flutter closed.

A minute passes before you muster up enough strength to pull your head away just enough to look at him. That giddy feeling is back the instant your eyes meet. The way that he shamelessly drinks in every feature of your face makes your stomach dip. You bite your lip to keep your smile at bay.

“You’re coming by again tomorrow?”

“Well, yeah.” His hand moves under your jaw, thumb pulling your lip from where you’ve held it prisoner. “I have to know how the book ends now.”

As if to soothe the punishment your bottom lip has endured, he kisses you with a softness that sends you into a tizzy. The same softness that extends to his hands as they cup your face and caress your cheek, like you’re so delicate that you might break.

You respond just as gently, letting his touch and cologne overwhelm you until the need grows in the pit of your stomach. Your hands grip onto his jumper to pull you closer, pressing your lips a little rougher against his, more sure. He sighs against your lips, and though it was a welcome change of pace, he exhibits some self-restraint. His lips part from yours, just barely, foreheads still pressed together.

“You’re making it really hard for me to leave,” he murmurs, lips still a featherlight touch against your own.

“Sorry,” you whisper in return, even though you don’t mean it.

He shakes his head with a soft laugh. He kisses you again, something quick and chaste before he’s pulling you into his chest again. The uninterrupted times the two of you get to spend together are so few and far between that he’s learned to be greedy with your touch. Not a second to waste.

Steve trudges to the window with you close behind him, pinkies interlocked until he’s climbing out and helping you pull it shut. The yellow street lamp just behind him creates a halo, illuminating the worsening pink of his nose and cheeks due to the cool November night. Before he walks back to his car, he gets an idea that makes his face light up.

He cups his hands around his mouth and moves in closer until he’s pressing against the glass. Right as he makes contact with the window, he huffs a breath to create a small circle of fog. He looks at you before drawing a heart right in the middle with his index finger. A sense of pride fills his chest and makes his heart beat faster when he sees you laugh.

Walking backward, he points at you and winks, like something out of a ridiculous rom-com. And though you’re rolling your eyes, a mere second later you playfully blow him a kiss.

He makes a show of it. Looking up into the sky, jogging backward, and jumping up to catch it, he almost stumbles into the bushes that separates your lawn from the neighbor’s. He puts his fist to his chest and holds it there, mouthing I love you. It’s the cheesiest thing you’ve ever seen.

You mouth it back nonetheless.

[infinite-orangepeel]