mini series, in which you experience five different dates with Steve Harrington

• online dating app AU •

my first series coming out very soon! so happy with this 🩵 chapters will be linked below as they get posted

every chapter will include allusions to/or smut, warnings will be tagged accordingly, please keep them in mind

summary: you never believed in the magic of dating apps, but what happens when the algorithm introduces you to a particularly attractive man, who also has a great personality...and other fine qualities?

chapters:

date zero: the match

date one: the wall

date two: the cyber tension

date three: the office lunch posted!

date four: the king size bed

STILL YOURS – exhusband!gator tillman x reader

He broke your heart just when you thought you’d finally built a family. Even after everything, some part of you never stopped hoping he’d find his way back.

warnings 18+, MDNI, angst, divorce/separation, pregnancy, parental trauma/abandonment, trauma bonding, mentions of grief & death of a parent, panic attacks/anxiety, jealousy, light smoking/vaping​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​. smut, explicit language, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f!receiving).

wc 4/5k(?

a/n hii, well something weird happened with this one because i got carried away and wrote and posted it today lol. you know i love some angst and i thought it would be interesting to explore this part of gator (?). idk, i enjoyed writing it so i hope you enjoy it too!!!

your relationship with gator started at the worst possible time in your life, which was probably why you didn’t notice how quickly he became a part of it.

you had barely finished grieving your mother when your father decided that her death was the perfect opportunity to come back into your life. he’d left years ago, after divorcing your mother and leaving the two of you to deal with her illness on your own. now that she was gone, he suddenly seemed to remember the house you’d grown up in, and, apparently, that he believed he had some right to it.

you’d told him to stay away from you. you’d told his new wife the same thing. neither of them listened. instead, they kept showing up at your house whenever they felt like it, usually at some ridiculous hour of the night and never in the best condition. sometimes they wanted to talk about the house. sometimes they just wanted to argue. either way, you were always the one left awake long after they finally decided to leave.

eventually, you got tired of it. tired of waking up to pounding on your door, tired of seeing your father’s car outside, tired of having to explain over and over again that you weren’t giving them the house. so you went to the station, started the paperwork, and did everything you could to make them leave you alone.

that’s where you met gator tillman.

he wasn’t assigned to your case, and technically, there was no reason for the two of you to speak. you only saw him because he happened to work there, usually somewhere in the background whenever you came in to drop off papers or talk to the secretary. at first, you barely paid attention to him.

then you noticed him paying attention to you.

the first time you caught him staring, his eyes were fixed on you so intensely that you felt them before you even turned around. when you did, he looked away with an almost convincing amount of innocence, as if he hadn’t been watching you for the last thirty seconds.

the second time, he didn’t look away.

after that, it became something of a routine. you’d walk through the doors with your portfolio tucked beneath your arm, and sooner or later, you’d find him somewhere nearby, a toothpick between his teeth and that irritating little smirk on his face. sometimes he’d be talking to someone, sometimes he’d pretend to be busy, but his eyes always seemed to find you.

and, much to your annoyance, yours always found him too.

there was something about him that made you curious despite yourself. maybe it was the way he carried himself, or the confidence in the way he spoke to everyone around him, like he already knew exactly how much power he had. there was an arrogance to him that should have made you dislike him immediately, but somehow, you kept noticing him anyway.

you also started noticing the way his attention changed whenever you walked into the station. his gaze would follow you from the moment you stepped through the door until you disappeared down the hallway, scanning you in a way that was subtle enough to deny but obvious enough that you knew exactly what he was doing.

by the time your restraining order was finally approved, you’d almost forgotten that the station had ever been anything more than a place you needed to visit.

you got the papers, thanked the secretary, and slipped everything into your bag, already thinking about going home. you didn’t know it would be the last time you’d walk through those doors—or that gator had already noticed the same thing.

you had just stepped outside when the glass door behind you stopped instead of swinging shut with its familiar click.

“see ya,” you heard him say to someone inside.

you kept your eyes on your bag as you put the papers away, pretending you hadn’t heard him. then you heard footsteps approaching.

“you finally got it, huh?”

you turned around.

gator.

you’d heard his name before, but you’d never actually spoken to him. up close, he looked even more self-assured than you’d imagined, with deep-set eyes, a faint smirk pulling at his mouth, and the lingering scent of smoke in the air as he exhaled from the vape in his hand.

his eyes dropped briefly to the portfolio in your hands before returning to your face.

“finally,” you said.

he smiled, the toothpick shifting between his teeth.

“guess that means we won’t be seeing you around here anymore.”

and judging by the way he was looking at you, he seemed a little more bothered by that than you expected.

“yes. have you been observing me?” you asked, a teasing smile already forming on your face. after weeks of lingering looks and the tension that seemed to follow you every time you walked through those doors, you knew eventually one of you would have to do something about it. and if he was finally giving you an opening, you weren’t going to waste it.

“your presence was obnoxiously noticeable,” he said, taking another drag from his vape. “every time i heard those heels, i knew you were coming in to bother the secretary again.”

“well, you made your presence pretty noticeable too.” you glanced at the badge shining on his chest, then looked back at him. “i mean, for a sheriff, you must have a lot of free time if you’ve been spending this much of it observing me.”

you tilted your head, waiting for him to take the bait.

instead, he laughed.

“yeah, i have it, actually.” his eyes stayed on yours. “what about ya?”

you should have known then that letting him into your life would become something you wouldn’t know how to undo. it started innocently enough, with conversations outside the station and coffee that somehow turned into dinners. then you started waiting for his calls, memorizing his schedule, finding excuses to see him whenever you could. before you knew it, gator had become the person you looked for whenever you entered a room.

and somewhere along the way, he became the person you felt safest with.

his presence had a way of making the loneliness you’d carried for so long feel quieter. even when his job kept him out late, you learned to recognize the sound of him coming home. the familiar weight of his boots by the door, the faint smell of mud and cold air following him inside, the sound of his uniform being discarded after another long shift. you never complained about the hours. you knew his schedule was unpredictable, and you knew loving him meant adjusting to it.

sometimes you’d be half-asleep when he finally came to bed, but you’d stay awake anyway, waiting for his arms to settle around your waist and his warm breath to brush against your neck. those little moments became your favorite ones, the quiet ones, when there was nothing left to prove and you could simply lie there together.

you started believing that maybe this was what having a home was supposed to feel like.

and when he proposed, you didn’t hesitate.

“got you this.”

after dinner, gator pushed a small black velvet box across the table toward you. you stared at it for a moment before looking back at him, almost afraid to open it.

inside was a simple ring, polished and bright beneath the light.

you barely let him finish before saying yes.

the next second, you were in his lap, laughing and pressing kisses all over his face while his arms tightened around your waist. he laughed too, rubbing your back as though he couldn’t quite believe you’d actually said yes.

you’d imagined this moment more times than you could count. getting married. building a family. giving a little someone the kind of childhood you never had. creating something warm and safe out of everything that had once made you feel broken.

for the first time, you thought you were finally leaving the worst parts of your past behind.

you thought you and gator were building the future you’d always wanted.

you knew gator hadn’t had that either, he never told you a very detailed story, but every time you got there, he just said “dont wanna talk about it” and closed the conversation. but you noticed that in little actions. touching was an example, he still felt tense when you spontaneously kissed his hands, his face, he was just intimidated to that level of intimacy, and you got used to that.

the first times you had sex, after it, you just laid on his chest trying to catch your breath and tracing circles on his chest with your fingers. but he could stay like that for a few minutes, not longer. you were almost always asleep or with your eyes half opened when he would just push you softly and turn his back. he was protective, he cared for you, that wasn’t a problem, but every time he pushed you away something inside you broke a little more.

when tom was born, you thought everything would change, that maybe having a little version of both of you would make him get closer, more affectionate. at least the excitement during your pregnancy was there, he wouldn’t let you do anything. “don’t worry about that, i’ll take care of it.” he would say every time you made an attempt to clean the table after lunch or dinner.

when he arrived home in the middle of the night, he would leave a kiss on your temple, then on some side of your belly, and you would melt instantly, sometimes just smiling and sleeping again, or wake up to kiss him back.

those were all good signs, a progress was showing. but all fell apart a couple of months after the baby arrived in your lives.

he had started to look at him and you with sadness and fear in his eyes, as if seeing his own eyes in tom had altered a fiber inside him, memories.

“figured i’d pick up some more overtime,” he just told you one night. “need to solve this thing” another bite of the steak without looking at you.

tom was about to turn one year and you couldn’t be happier, but it was impossible to ignore gator’s absence in your days.

as from one day to another he couldn’t even spend more than two days together with you. you started to noticed the two big dark circles around his eyes, didn’t know if it was because of the overextended shifts and lack of sleep, or something related to the way he just straightened his posture every time you touched him.

between the lonely nights and the days that seemed to blur together, the pain started becoming unbearable. the house felt bigger than it ever had before, every room carrying an emptiness that hadn’t been there months ago. or maybe it had only been months, but without the light and happiness that used to fill it, it felt like years.

the monster of your past had found its way back in through the cracks. the nightmares returned first, followed by that familiar, suffocating tightness in your chest. after one particularly bad panic attack, you finally realized you couldn’t keep living like that. you were breathless, shaking, and so anxious you could barely think straight. and gator wasn’t there. the worst part, though, was realizing later that you hadn’t even thought about calling him. not once. because somewhere along the way, you’d started seeing him as someone you could bother, someone you had to work around, rather than someone you could turn to. it was as if he wasn’t an option anymore. as if he didn’t exist when you needed him most.

the next morning, you started looking for an apartment. then you called your lawyer and told him you wanted to sell the house. at first, you hesitated over the idea of using your mother’s will to make the decision final, because that house had been the last thing you had left of her. but eventually, you understood that keeping it wasn’t keeping her close. it was keeping you trapped. and you’d finally decided that you weren’t going to feel that way anymore.

when you finally told him, it was already too late for him to stop you. anger was the first thing that broke through his shock. “you’re really gonna do this?” was the first thing out of his mouth, followed by tears, apologies, and promises that he would do better. he begged you to give him another chance, swore things would be different, but you already knew better. you’d spent too long waiting for things to change to believe him now.

with his connections, the divorce was finalized quickly. after that, gator became nothing more than the person you shared a son with. the first few times he came to see tom, you barely acknowledged him. you’d stay nearby, keeping yourself busy with housework or sitting at your computer, pretending to be completely absorbed in the new job you’d taken. you’d answer when necessary, but never enough to start a real conversation.

the first few months were harder than you’d ever admit. sometimes you’d catch him sitting beside tom’s crib, quietly putting him to sleep, and you’d see the tears he tried so hard to hide. those moments made you wonder what was going on inside his head, what he was thinking when he looked at your son, what he wanted to say to you but never did. but you’d learned by then that gator didn’t let people get that close. not even you.

now, everything between you is mostly habit. you open the door when he comes to pick tom up, greeting him with the same soft but serious “hi” every time. you take the groceries he brings over without asking, because somehow he’s started bringing things you need without either of you ever discussing it. you’ve learned to stop looking at him with the anger and disappointment you once couldn’t hide.

sometimes, instead, you feel guilty.

guilty for blaming him for not being there. guilty for expecting more from him. guilty for believing that maybe he could have been enough to make you feel safe again.

and you know it’s not fair.

you know none of it is your fault.

but knowing that doesn’t always stop you from feeling it.

—————————

gator was sitting on the floor with tom, surrounded by the toys you’d started keeping in a basket in the corner of the living room. tom had only recently started trying to talk, and most of what came out of his mouth was still a collection of half-formed sounds, but gator seemed determined to understand every single one of them. watching them together would’ve broken you into pieces a few months ago. now, though, you found yourself feeling something different. you were happy he was there for tom.

sometimes you still wondered if you’d made the right decision. whether you’d taken his son away from him too soon, whether leaving had made you a terrible person. but then you’d look at them like this and realize that maybe the divorce had been the shock gator needed. maybe losing you had finally made him understand that being absent meant losing tom, too. the small changes weren’t enough to make you regret leaving, but they were enough to let you slowly put the ghosts of your decision to rest.

“da-ddy.”

you heard gator’s little voice from the bathroom.

“c’mon, boy, it’s not that hard,” gator encouraged him, and you rolled your eyes at his attempt to teach him the word.

despite yourself, though, warmth spread through your chest.

you turned back toward the mirror and continued doing your makeup. your best friend had finally convinced you to go on the double date she’d been trying to arrange for weeks. after gator, you’d been convinced you’d never love anyone again, and for a long time, you hadn’t even wanted to try.

but things were different now.

you’d finally accepted that gator had a different place in your life. he was tom’s father, and that was all he needed to be. maybe letting someone else into your life didn’t have to mean replacing him. maybe a little company wouldn’t hurt.

according to your friend, the guy was “decent.”

and handsome, too.

which, apparently, was more than enough reason to give him a chance.

“okay, tom showered after his nap. there’s formula in that cabinet, and his pajamas are folded on the bed. there’s some lasagna from lunch in the fridge if you’re hungry. i’ll be back before midnight,” you said quickly, grabbing your coat and slipping it on in front of the mirror.

you could feel his gaze burning into you.

gator had never been subtle about looking at you, but this felt different. his eyes seemed to follow every movement, lingering on you as if he already knew where you were going and, more importantly, who you were going with. the thought clearly didn’t sit well with him.

“is there a special occasion or som’in?” he asked from the couch.

it still felt strange seeing him without his uniform. at first, you’d been surprised whenever he showed up in gray sweatpants and plain t-shirts, but after he’d mentioned that he’d cut back his shifts and started taking more days off, you’d slowly gotten used to it. right now, he was watching tv with tom sleeping peacefully against his chest, one arm resting protectively around him.

his eyes moved down to your shoes.

“you ain’t wearing boots.” he pointed toward your black heels.

“i have a date.”

the reaction was immediate.

something shifted in his expression, so quickly you almost missed it. his jaw tightened, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he stared at you for a moment too long. you hadn’t expected it to affect him that much.

truthfully, you’d never really thought about what it would be like for either of you to start seeing someone else. after the divorce, you’d deliberately avoided the subject. once, though, you’d overheard two women talking behind you in town, clearly assuming you couldn’t hear them. “they say he spent hours at that bar on the side of the road.” the thought had made your stomach twist. you’d ignored it anyway. the town wasn’t big, and if gator ever decided to date someone, or even just spend too much time with someone, you’d probably hear about it before long. at least you’d been relieved to know he seemed to be careful about keeping that part of his life away from you after you moved.

still, you couldn’t help wondering how you’d feel if you were standing where he was now.

gator had always been possessive in ways you’d learned to recognize long before the divorce. back when you were still married, he made sure everyone knew you were his wife. once, during dinner, he’d pulled you into a kiss right in the middle of the restaurant simply because he’d decided the waiter was flirting with you.

he’d always been like that with kissing. he wasn’t particularly fond of soft caresses or lingering touches, but when it came to kissing you, he could never seem to get enough. even when everything between you had started falling apart, he had still possessed that frustrating ability to make you forget why you were angry with him with a single kiss.

you shook your head, forcing the memory away before it could settle too deeply.

“have fun, then.”

his voice was flat.

he turned his attention back toward the television, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek again as if he was trying to swallow whatever else he wanted to say.

you walked past him, your heels clicking against the floor. for a moment, the faint sound of the television and your footsteps were the only things filling the apartment.

you reached the door and didn’t look back.

you didn’t need to.

you already knew he was watching you leave, his eyes following every step until the door finally closed behind you.

and judging by the way his jaw had tightened when you’d said the word date, you had a feeling that little black dress was going to haunt him for the rest of the night.

—————————

the date was ok, you didn’t expect much of it, but he was nice and your friend kept the conversation interesting when the two men got distracted talking about work and boring stuff. he seemed interested in you and didn’t make a face when you mentioned tom, instead he sounded eager to know more about you. he said that he obviously wanted to see you again, so he asked for your number and you gave it to him.

you had forgotten how interest felt, but you didn’t want to start comparing things with your life with gator again, so simply tried to push those thoughts away.

when you got home, you thought he had fallen asleep on the couch as always. but the night had slipped away and you were 3 hours later than you promised. and instead he was washing the dishes, apparently from the dinner. he didn’t even look at you this time, just kept concentrated on his activity.

“its ok, let me finish that so you can go home,” you broke the silence after taking off your coat and leaving it folded over the back of the couch.

home, he let out a short scoff at the sound of that word. he couldn’t even call it like that. he was being really good at hiding how miserable his life was from the moment you slipped away, or more accurately, from the moment he pushed you away.

you ignored his reaction and came closer.

“how was it?” you stopped in the middle of your way to him, he looked at you with his deep eyes, some strands of his short hair getting in the way. “your date,” he repeated, as if you didn’t already understand what he meant, you hated that tone. the arrogant tone again, the same he used when he was nonsensically mad and wanted to make you feel guilty.

“—you seemed irritated,” he said, his voice carrying that familiar, lazy drawl, though his knuckles were white against the counter.

“you are being ridiculous,” you snapped, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. you didn’t want to look at him, but his eyes were burning into yours. “i’m not irritated, gator. i’m tired. and frankly, it’s none of your business how my night went.”

he let out a short, sharp scoff, turning his head away for a second before looking back at you with a cocky, defensive smirk. “oh, so it’s going to be like that now? not even a ‘thanks for watching our son, huh? just straight to the cold shoulder. come on, now. i’m just making conversation, dontcha know? a guy can’t ask how the big night was?”

“no, a guy who ruined his own marriage doesn’t get to cross-examine me at two in the morning,” you said, your voice dropping to a harsh, dangerous whisper so you wouldn’t wake tom upstairs. “you don’t get to stand there and play the jealous ex-husband. you threw that right away a long time ago.”

the smirk flickered on his face, faltering for just a fraction of a second before he forced it back up like a shield. “i was working. i was doing what a man’s supposed to do for his family. providing, yah? keeping things running.”

“that’s bullshit gator, you were absent and a fucking coward!” the words ripped out of you, raw and heavy with the weight of months spent staring at a crib alone. “you turned cold. you looked at me, looked at our baby, and walked out the door because it was easier than facing your own life. my father abandoned me, gator. i know the story. i knew the signs before you even did. and you sat right there and made me feel like i was crazy for drowning while you watched from the shore.”

gator shifted his weight, the arrogant posture slowly draining out of him, revealing something much more fragile underneath. his shoulders dropped.

he looked down at the towel in his hands, twisting the fabric between his fingers over and over.

“i didn’t… i wasn’t trying to leave you like that,” he muttered, his voice losing his performative harsh posture. it sounded small now. hurt. “seeing you out tonight… with him… it just… it feels like i’m being erased. like i’m already gone.”

“you did that to yourself,” you said, though the anger in your chest was starting to ache instead of burn.

“but if it makes you feel any better… i don’t hate you anymore. i’ve already forgiven you.”

gator snapped his head up, his eyes wide and glassy. “what do you mean?”

“for tom,” you whispered, nodding toward the stairs. “because you’re here now. because you’re actually trying to be a decent father to him, and he deserves that. i forgave you for his sake.”

instead of looking relieved, gator’s face crumpled, the anger and stubbornness he’d been holding onto disappearing all at once. something like pure anguish crossed his features, and a heavy, choked breath caught in his throat.

“no,” he whispered, his voice trembled as he took a step closer, completely dropping whatever defenses he’d been trying to keep between you.

“oh, no. that’s… that’s not what i need, yah.” he swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on yours. “i don’t want you to forgive me just because of what i did to our son.”

he took another step, his voice breaking slightly.

“i need you…” he paused, struggling to get the words out. “i need you to forgive me for what i did to you, too.”

a tear finally broke free, tracing a slow path down his cheek. he looked completely undone, stripped of the tillman armor he’d worn so effortlessly for so long. for the first time, he didn’t look like the tough, arrogant man you’d learned to know. he looked terrified. almost like a boy who had finally realized he’d become the very thing he’d spent his whole life trying not to be.

“he… he never really looked at my mom,” gator choked out, his chest rising and falling unevenly as the shadow of his father seemed to settle over the kitchen. “not really.”

his voice cracked.

“he just used her. ignored her until there was nothing left of her.”

he dragged a trembling hand over his face, struggling to breathe through the words.

“and when tom was born, i looked at you, and i felt so much… so much damn pressure.” his eyes dropped to the floor. “and all i could think was… i’m gonna ruin them. i’m gonna destroy them just like he destroys everything.”

his hands covered his face as his shoulders began to shake, a ragged sob tearing through his chest.

“i didn’t want to be like him,” he whispered, the words muffled behind his palms. “i… i don’t want to be like him.”

he lowered his hands, his face wet with tears and completely exposed.

“i don’t want to be my father.”

the sight of him completely shattered, this man who had spent his whole life trying to prove he was strong, now bleeding out emotionally on your kitchen floor, finally broke through the last of your anger. for the first time, you weren’t looking at gator as the man who had hurt you, but as the person underneath all that anger and pride, the boy who had grown up watching his father destroy everything around him.

you finally understood where some of his fear had come from. not as an excuse for what he’d done, because nothing could erase that, but as the truth he’d been too afraid to show you before. he was opening up to you in a way he never had, letting you see the parts of him he’d spent his whole life hiding.

and maybe, right then, that was all you needed from him, honesty, vulnerability. something real.

because, in the end, you’d both been doing the same thing since the day you met. you were just two broken kids who had grown up surrounded by things that taught you how to hurt, desperately trying to build something different without knowing how. two people terrified of becoming the very things that had raised them, even if you’d both failed in different ways along the way.

“gator…” you breathed. without thinking, you stepped forward and closed the distance between you. you reached out and pulled him into your arms. the moment your hands touched his back, gator completely melted against you. he buried his face into the crook of your neck, his heavy frame trembling as he held onto you like a drowning man clutching a liferaft. he cried into your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin, letting out months of repressed terror and guilt.

after a long time, the heavy sobs began to quiet into shaky breaths. gently, you pulled back just enough to look at him. gator looked up at you through wet, dark eyelashes, his eyes red-rimmed and his lips swollen from biting them to keep from screaming. he looked incredibly vulnerable, entirely at your mercy. neither of you said a word. the silence in the kitchen was thick, charged with a sudden, suffocating heat. you looked at his parted, trembling lips, and before your brain could talk you out of it, you leaned in and kissed him.

gator gasped against your mouth, a small, desperate sound, before his arms instantly wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. he responded fiercely, deepening the kiss with a raw, starved intensity, pouring every ounce of his regret, his love, and his fear into the collision of your lips. you felt his heart pounding. he hugged you as strong and close as he could, making sure he couldn’t let you go, that he couldn’t lose you again.

he broke the kiss only long enough to breathe against your lips, forehead pressed to yours, eyes still wet.

“i’m sorry… fuck, i’m so damn sorry,” he whispered, voice cracked and low. “let me make it up to you… please. let me make you feel good.”

he kissed you again, softer this time, then deeper, hands sliding under the short black dress to grip your hips like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. he walked you backward toward the bedroom without breaking the contact, mumbling more apologies between every press of his mouth.

“i was a fuckin’ idiot… i left you alone with our boy… i’m sorry, baby… so fuckin’ sorry…”

the back of your knees hit the mattress and he eased you down, climbing over you carefully, still kissing your jaw, your neck, the corner of your mouth. every few seconds he pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes searching, then leaned in again like he couldn’t stand the distance.

“let me take care of you tonight… please… i need to.”

his hands slid the dress up and off, tossing it aside, then he was on you again, mouth open and hungry, tongue sliding against yours while one palm cupped your cheek so gently it almost didn’t match the desperation in the rest of him. he kissed down your throat, across your collarbone, lower, still whispering against your skin.

“i’m sorry… i’m sorry… let me make you feel good, sweetheart…”

he settled between your thighs, nuzzling the soft skin there, pressing apologetic kisses to the inside of your knees, your thighs, higher. when his mouth finally reached your cunt he groaned like it hurt him not to be there sooner.

“gonna make it better… promise…”

he licked a slow stripe up your center, then sealed his lips around your clit and sucked gently, fingers stroking your hips in soothing circles even as his tongue worked. every time you made a sound he answered with another soft “i’m sorry” against your folds, the words vibrating into you.

he slid one finger inside, then a second, curling them carefully while his mouth stayed devoted to your clit. he didn’t rush. he just kept going, slow and steady and so damn focused, like making you come was the only way he knew how to fix anything.

“that’s it… take it… i got you… i’m right here… not goin’ anywhere…”

when your legs started to shake he held them open wider, pressing closer, tongue flat and relentless until you came with a broken cry, fingers tangled in his hair. he didn’t stop until the aftershocks faded, kissing your thighs, your hipbones, the soft skin just above your cunt, still murmuring apologies like a prayer.

only then did he climb back up, stripping the rest of his clothes with shaking hands. he settled over you again, cock heavy and warm against your thigh, forehead to yours once more.

“let me in… please… need to feel you… need to know you’re still mine…”

he pushed inside slow, inch by inch, eyes locked on yours the whole way. once he was fully seated he stayed still, trembling, kissing every part of your face he could reach.

“ i love you… fuck, i love you so much… never leavin’ again… never…”

then he started to move, deep, rolling thrusts, hips grinding against yours like he wanted to stay buried forever. every few strokes he kissed you again, whispered another apology against your lips, against your cheek, into your hair.

“gonna make it up to you every night if you let me… every fuckin’ night… just don’t leave me… please…”

he held you so tight it almost hurt, face buried in your neck as he fucked you slower and deeper, clinging like a man who’d already lost everything once and refused to lose it again.

he came with a low, broken sound against your neck, body shaking as he spilled inside you, still holding on like he might fall apart if he let go. for a long moment neither of you moved. his breath was hot and uneven against your skin, heart pounding so hard you could feel it through his chest.

instead of pulling away like he used to, gator stayed right there. he wrapped both arms around you, tight and sure, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other stroked slow circles along your spine. he pressed soft kisses to your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, murmuring quiet little apologies and “i love you”s between them until the words blurred together.

he had finally shown you everything. every cracked piece, every old fear, every ugly memory he’d kept locked away. he’d let you read him like an open book, and there was nothing left for him to be ashamed of. for the first time since you’d known him, he didn’t flinch from the closeness. he just held you, warm and solid and present, legs tangled with yours under the sheets.

you stayed like that all night.

when you woke the next morning the space beside you was empty. a cold spike of panic shot through your chest for half a second, old instincts, old wounds, until you heard the soft creak of the floorboards in the living room and the quiet, off-key hum of a familiar voice.

you slipped out of bed, pulled on one of his plain t-shirts, and padded down the short hallway.

there he was.

gator sat in the old rocking chair by the window, tom nestled safely in the crook of his arm, a baby bottle tilted just right. he was rocking gently back and forth, humming some half-remembered tune under his breath while tom’s little fingers curled around the bottle. morning light spilled across both of them, turning the soft dark circles under gator’s eyes golden. he looked tired, but peaceful in a way you’d never seen before.

you almost melted right there in the doorway.

“good morning,” you said, voice still rough with sleep.

he looked up, and the slow, real smile that spread across his face was everything. no arrogance, no walls, just quiet, open happiness.

“mornin’, baby,” he answered, soft. “he woke up hungry. figured i’d let you sleep a little longer.”

you walked over, leaned down, and kissed the top of his head, then pressed a gentler one to tom’s soft hair. gator’s free hand found your waist and tugged you closer until you were half-sitting on the arm of the chair, his arm wrapped securely around both of you.

outside the window the day was just beginning, bright and ordinary and full of the kind of quiet promise neither of you had believed you could have. but here it was, gator holding his son, holding you, no longer running from the life the three of you were building together.

and for the first time in a long while, it felt like home.

uh……. yeah……. hngh

i think he’s lowkey a bit insatiable when you guys first start dating, and he’s trying to be a real gentleman and not, you know, beg to fuck you every other day. so there’s a few times he has to jerk off to the thought of you (a poor substitution but oh well) and he is . so filthy . when he jacks off. he really has it down to a science on how to get it done fast, but sometimes, he doesn’t really have anything better to do, and he’s so desperate at the thought of you tbh, and he’ll just lean back in bed for a good hour and jack off.

he usually leans back against the bedpost with his boxers still on and he’ll lick his hand across the palm to lube himself up a bit christtttt and he’ll slip his hand down his boxers to wrap his hand around himself. and he’ll close his eyes and rest his head back against the bed frame, and think about your hands and your tits in that low cut top you wear sometimes, and that one time you leaned over in those really tight jeans and your panties peaked out a little, and how your lips feel when you kiss him and the noises you make when he first slips it in hnghhghgh

and then he’ll stroke up and down, up and down, real slow at first, biting his lip and just thinking of you and squeezing at the base of himself. and then he’ll spread his legs a bit wider and fully pull his cock out of his boxers and use his other hand to rake his fingers through his hair. and then he’ll start to focus on his tip a lot more (like you would when you’re sucking him off) and he’ll rub at the slit like your tongue would, and he’ll take his other hand down to cup at his balls, just like you would, and he’ll think about how your nails feel scratching down his back, and the smell of your hair, and how hot you’d look laying naked in his sheets, and then he’s groaning so so deep and tugging at his dick a lot harder and he’s so sticky from precum and sweaty from how long he’s been at it, and then he thinks about how tight your pussy feels and how you whine out his name when you cum, and all of a sudden he’s leaking all over his hand and all over his boxers and his chest is heaving and he’s moaning out your name as if you were here and his head hurts from how tight his eyes are squeezed together<3

pairing: steve harrington x mayfield!reader

summary: nobody suspected anything was going on between you and steve. one sleepover between el and max threatens the secrecy of your relationship. or what if it was steve that el and max spied on instead of billy? (7.3k wc)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, secret relationship, fluff, mutual pining (steve more so), whipped!steve, banter, nosey/plotting kids, mayfield sisters have a heart to heart, swearing, both steve & reader are 18, fem!reader, detailed explicit smut, dirty talk, teasing, dry humping, marking, nipple play, munch!steve, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected pnv, creampie (i hate that word), big dick!steve, multiple orgasms, pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweet girl), the scoops ahoy uniform gets a bit of shade, set in season 3 but not exactly canon, upside down mentions, no physical descriptions of reader, no use of y/n, not proofread

authors note: rewatching stranger things and couldn't stop thinking about this concept, it latched onto my brain like a parasite. the kids don't witness anything 18+ btw, i wouldn't do that to my babies. fun fact: i originally started this blog bc i was writing a st rewrite and then old men got ahold of me

song inspo: stop the world i wanna get off with you - arctic monkeys

masterlist

Well, I know that getting you alone isn't easy to do And I don't wanna lie, and I don't wanna tell you the truth And I know we got places to go, we got people to see Think we both oughta put 'em on hold and I know you agree

The faint notes of Teena Marie's Lovergirl trickled under El's closed door, lining Chief Hopper's cabin with a lightness the paint scratched, wood panelled interior had never seen. The funk song drowned out the sounds of El's and Max's laughter, providing them with a safety blanket as they did something they swore they'd never do—spy on their neighbours using El's powers.