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sadieshairbrush · 3 months ago

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Stranger Things: Clementine

A/N: omg it’s my birthday! Just want to put out there that my ADHD ass does not have anyone to proof read these so I’m sorry

Summary: Clementine tries to get back to what she knows, feeling that ‘outta sight outta mind’ type beat. Little does she know she’s tripping. Tommy and Carol are assholes, shocking,

Chapter 2: The weirdo on Maple Street

Here we are in the Wheelers basement, dripping wet and in quite the predicament. I’d distracted Karen as the boys took the kid downstairs.

When I told her I thought to walk the boys home after the whole mystery surrounding Will she was pleased to say the least.

I promised I’d walk the others home after they said goodbye to Mike, and that I wouldn’t over stay my welcome tonight. But she didn’t seem to mind either way.

I shut the basement door behind me, watching on as the odd kid sits on the couch, alone and intimidated by the line of boys facing her.

She has mikes jacket over her shoulders, not doing much to shield her from the wet cold she’d just endured. God knows just how long she’s been out there.

“Is there a number we can call for your parents?” Asks Mike. But before she can answer, Dustin cuts in.

“Where’s your hair? Do you have cancer?”

Then Lucas.

“Did you run away?”

They have a lot of questions, a lot of curious itches to be scratched. But watching on was painful. Her eyes are darting like mad between the three, unsure how she’s meant to handle the attention.

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Mike tries again.

“Is that blood?”

Lucas leans forward, hand closing in on the spot under her nose where, sure enough, dried blood is gathered.

Mike, before Lucas can lay a hand on her, smacks his hand away. His shoulders are stiff, arms waving madly.

“Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She’s freaking me out!”

“I bet she’s deaf,” Dustin interrupts.

He tests this theory by clapping his hands in her face suddenly enough to even make me jump.

“Hey! Are you chronically stupid?”

I kneel in front of the girl. Not that I’m fully sure what I should be doing in this situation, but I knew scaring her out of her wits wasn’t exactly the plan of the century.

The more I look at her, the smaller I realise she is. Her knees are knobbly, a sheet of goosebumps over them. I look up at her, but she doesn’t meet my eyes. She’s laser focused on the rain dripping from the ends of my hair. Maybe she’s just looking at my hair, thinking about it.

Why doesn’t she have hair?

Unlike Dustin, though, I didn’t suppose it was appropriate to ask this soon.

Why is she wearing a man-sized shirt?

Where was she heading so late at night?

Why was she by herself?

“You don’t have to be scared now. You’re safe here.” For now. I mean, for all I know she could have a crazy abusive parent out scouting for her to bring her back to the home she may have run away from.

But she’s here for now, and no one here was going to lay an unwanted finger on her.

Mike fumbles with his fingers behind me. I could feel the concern radiating from him onto my back as I crouched low.

I thank him in my head for being the only one not to ask stupid questions.

My eyes flicker back to her tiny legs, faintly blue with the nipping cold, red in other spots as the heat of the Wheelers basement rivals the near frozen patches of skin. “You must be freezing.”

And Mike’s presence is gone in a flash as he fishes around in his dryer basket, a flash of thunder making the girl jump out her skin for a moment.

God, I should know how to be as comforting as I want to be in this moment. But I’m clueless with overly friendly gestures. All I can do is soothe her with a quick, “it’s fine, don’t worry,” as Mike comes back with a rather warm looking pair of sweatpants and a sweat shirt.

The girl looks unsure as he approaches, but her eyes look soft. From the second we bumped into her in the woods, she looked vulnerable, even allowed me to hoist her into my arms, wrapping her bare legs around my waist tight as a belt when we promised we’d take her somewhere safe.

“Here. These are clean, okay?”

She takes them from him with less reluctance than I’d let myself expect. She brings them to her face, resting her cheek on the warm, fuzzy fabric. Surely she knew what she was holding in her hands.

She starts, stripping off the jacket before getting to her feet. Then her hands are at the hem of that massive yellow shirt, and she’s tugging.

“Hey, hey, no!”

I wasn’t expecting us all to yell at the same time, not meaning to startle her when she’s in the position she’s in. Then again, no one’s really thinking when we start yelling for her to stop what she’s doing to save her decency.

While the two are being as dramatic as can be, Mike is encircling her wrist lightly, guiding her hand away from her clothes, voice soft yet firm enough to be helpful.

“Are you two stupid?” I whispered, harshly, knocking Dustins hat off his head, and tugging at Lucas’ hood. “Are you actually stupid? You don’t have to be that dramatic!”

“She tried to strip!” Lucas argued, and I hushed him with an almost growl. Luckily, Mike was already guiding her to the bathroom.

“Strip? Strip? No wonder girls don’t talk to you!”

I leave them in their offended states to assist Mike.

She’s wandering towards the bathrooms open door, eyes flitting around the place as she goes.

Mike moves to close the door behind her, and she catches it before it shuts.

“You don’t want it closed?”

She blinks, adjusting herself slightly.

“No.” In a voice so tiny it might as well have been a whisper.

Mike is taken aback, but he doesn’t really let it show, still lingering in doorway.

“Oh, so you can speak. Okay, well…” he struggles, looking over his shoulder for a little help.

I look from him, to the girl.

“It’s alright, Mike. Talk some sense into those two for me, will you?”

I push him aside softly as he nods, closing the door behind us with a soft click.

I was a little unsure at first, having really nothing to say. Sure, there are a lot of questions tumbling around in my head. It’ll be a little while until it’ll be appropriate, so I don’t bother.

I work in silence as I run the water in the sink, hand under it until I can feel it’s warm enough.

“Towel… towel…” I mumble, searching the cupboards until I find one to run under the tap.

“Come here,” I instructed, sitting on the closed toilet.

Hesitantly, she stands herself In front of me, eyes drawn to the mascara running under my eyes. “I should have brought a hooded jacket, I know,” I muttered, playfully, approaching her neck with the towel slowly enough to give her time to understand what I’m doing.

Her eyes flutter closed at the heat as I clean off whatever dirt and grime sticks to her skin. Her arms, her legs.

“Are you okay taking this off now?” I spoke, gesturing towards the sopping wet t-shirt.

“Yes.”

With the confirmation I needed to continue, I lift the top over her head, frowning at the print I couldn’t see clearly until now. When had she been to Bennys?

Focussing back onto the girl, I carry on. I wanted to be quick. I hated the idea of her standing here, cold, exposed in front of a stranger. It’s worse because she doesn’t seem to understand that standing naked in front of someone you’ve known for a half hour wasn’t normal.

“Leg up?” I ask, hand out to clean off her filthy feet, careful not to be too harsh in case there’s any cuts of scapes. There are a fair few, but she got off lightly considering the circumstances.

“Hold on now.”

I grab the clothes, opening the sweat pants in front of her as I knelt down. “Go on, step in.”

She put her hand on my shoulders and seemed in a rush to be dressed, eyes already following the sweatshirt as I unfolded it, hands above her head before I’d even asked.

Of course she was eager. Who knows how long she’s been out there freezing her ass off? I’m not even sure I want to know, I decide.

“Do you- have you- do you need anything? Pads? Anything like that?” I asked.

Her furrowed brows gave me my answer, but I decide I’ll leave her something in case there’s an unexpected accident. Now that she’s all set, we can figure out how we can help her further.

“Nevermind. Are you ready to go back out there?”

With a nod, she lingers closer to me than she had been. Maybe she was begining to feel safe, after all.

“Good,” I smiled, leading her back to the main part of the basement where Mike had set up a small fort with a sleeping back. Hes on his feet at lightening speed at our approach, walkie-talkie in his hand.

He’s thrusting it into my hand before I’d even had a chance to speak.

“Mike, what’s this? And what the hell is this fort about? She’s not staying in your basement like ET.”

“It’s a walkie, so you can talk to me without my mom picking up. It won’t reach Dustin or Lucas, but I can reach Lucas, Lucas can reach Dustin, and you can reach me.”

I blink back at him, confused.

Why the hell do we have to secretly communicate? If he thinks he’s keeping this child hidden down here he’d better think again.

As she wonders towards the the tiny fort, I speak lowly to Mike, out of her earshot.

“Okay, great, and what are we doing about little Mowgli over there? Because we’re not keeping her holed up in your depressing basement. There are roaches down here hanging themselves. We’re calling child services.”

“Yeah, and what are we supposed to tell them when they ask how we found her? Do you really want my mom to know you accompanied us on our little adventure?”

He’s got me there. One little lie, and it all begins to spiral.

“Okay, fine, then what?”

The plan was that she’d spend the night in the basement, and ring the doorbell the next morning and tell Karen she’s lost, and let her handle it.

“Fine, just take care of her, alright? And make sure she knows the plan,” I sigh, squeezing his shoulder.

God, this is insane!

I usher the others upstairs after a rushed goodbye to Mike. All I’ve got to do is get the kids home safe, then walk back past the Wheelers house to get a good nights sleep. Maybe.

I sat through school the following day trying to forget. By the time schools out, it will all be over. Done, dusted and taken care of.

It helps that in only a few hours, I’d be out, drunk, careless. Just the way I liked to be every few weekends. So Sue me.

It was a difficult feat. Everywhere I turned, I could already hear of the vanishing Byers boy.

Wasn’t it too soon for the news to have spread like this?

“His creepy brother’s probably just got him buried in the backyard,” Carol would say, waving the her gum on the end of her finger, eyes glued to her compact mirror.

I look around the loud classroom, and back to Carol, thankful no one heard.

“For Gods sake, Carol, don’t you have any sympathy? That little boy is missing, his brother will be worried sick.”

Wills brother, Jonathan was in the year below. Jonathan the weirdo, he went by. Although I never folded into calling him such a thing. I wish I could say I’d done more to stop it…

“Oh, come on, Clementine. You’ve heard all the shit about how creepy he is.”

“What happened to never believing rumours unless you start them yourself?” I ask, drumming my fingers on my desk.

“I can’t keep up with that moral standard if I don’t remember which ones I started,” she appeals, snapping her mirror shut. What a girl like Carol deserves is a good left, right, goodnight if I had anything to say about it. If I’d had more violent tendencies I might have taken care of that myself.

“Moral standard? Give me a break.”

I was the first out of my seat when the bell rang, eager for the day to hurry on by.

“Jesus Christ, what’s with you today?”

She’s by my side as the students file out the door, gum smacking in my ear.

“Sorry, I’m just impatient to leave. I’ve never needed a drink more in my life, and the days not even over yet,” I admit with a longing moan that makes Carol laugh out loud.

“That’s what I like to hear!” She bumps my hip, grinning like the Cheshire Cat when she catches Tommys eyes down the hall.

“Ladies,” he greets, slyly, encircling Carol in his arms as we meet half way, Steve by his side. “Looking forward to tonight?”

“You have no idea,,” I beam, never more relaxed in the couples presence. Things have been entirely too tense, and I’m looking forward to unwinding. “Plus, this guy has a pool.”

Steve nods slowly, a brow quirked slightly.

“It’s also November. You’ll be complaining all night if you swim.”

All too much of my spare time was spent in Steve’s pool, and nothing done a better job of reminding me of how little my problems were. Even if I had been accompanied by these absolute losers I genuinely called friends.

But something told me that playing drunk Marco Polo fully clothed or otherwise wouldn’t help me in this case. Still, I tried my best to ignore the nagging voice that told me this.

“Speaking of live and let live, did you…?” I trailed off teasingly, nudging Steve’s side and we’d begun to weave through the halls. “You did, didn’t you?”

“Oh, did I do that thing that you told me to? I did,” he smirks, pulling the back of my collar to hide his slight embarrassment. This is a new development. “While you spent your night alone being boring, I was in for a steamy, sexy night of studying for a test I’m not even taking.”

The thought of us being in that house at the same time was unsettling. Truth be told, part of me couldn’t help but find it funny too.

“Hey, what’s wrong with a quiet night every once in a while?”

“Look, it’s your girlfriend,” Carol laughed into Tommys shoulder, eyes on a distracted Nancy, still fitting in a moment to study as Barbara read questions off her revision notes.

“Did you invite her? Or were you too… distracted to ask last night?”

Instead of answering, because he so knew I was right, he plucks the notes from Barbara’s grasp, smoothly making himself comfortable at Nancys side as Tommy reaches up to tickle Barbaras ear.

“I think you’ve studied enough, Nance.”

“Steve––“ she tries, reaching for the card as he’s flicking through.

“I’m telling you, y’know, you got this. Don’t worry.”

Sweet as morning dew. Ripping the cards from Steve’s hand and offering them back to Nancy with a laugh got her attention on me, and I looked between her and Barb who lingers behind. Again.

“You’re not busy or anything tonight, are you? ‘Cause Steve’s got the house free. Another one of his dad’s conferences. You’re in, right?”

“In for what?”

“No parents?” Carol cut in, spelling it out for her. “Big house?”

“A party?”

“Ding, ding, ding!” To which Tommy laughs as if his girlfriend is as funny as she thinks she is.

A match made in heaven.

“It’s Tuesday,” she tries. Her tone almost sounds like she’s sure we must have made a mistake. And of course Tommy and Carol are quick to make fun of her, unflinching when Steve waves them off.

“C’mon. It’ll be low key. It’ll just be us.”

“Don’t even think of it as a party. Just a little hang-out with the six of us.”

“What do you say?” Steve’s eyes flick towards Barb for a second, knowing it wasn’t my job to make sure he includes her. “Are you in or… are you out?”

Before she’s even given the chance to truly contemplate the invitation, Carol diverts our attention. “Oh, God. Look.”

Jonathan Byers.

Like a caged animal at the zoo, we all stop to stare. We don’t mean to- at least, I don’t- but here we are, doing it anyways.

I don’t see him often. I don’t usually have a reason to talk to him since we’re not in the same year. But I feel magnetised, unable to tear my eyes or chase my thoughts away. Thoughts of whether or not he’s learned anything new, thoughts of deeply wondering what he was feeling, how he felt when he realised his little brother had dropped off the face of the Earth.

“Oh, God, That’s depressing.”

In a way, Steve’s right. He’s pinning up missing posters. None of the others know of the severity in which my stomach twists. I went looking for his brother just last night, and he doesn’t even know.

“Should we say something?” Nancy wonders.

“I don’t think he speaks.”

“God, Carol, were you just born a bitch?” I grumble, crossing my arms with a huff.

“Oh, come on,” Tommy begun, smiling teasingly right at me with a nudge that might have made me stumble had I not seen it coming. “How much do you wanna bet he killed him?”

And believe it or not, this is how this idiots brain actually worked. It’s not even the case of speaking without thinking. Plenty of thought went into those words, and he thought he’d go ahead and say them anyways.

“You know we all think you’re a douchebag, don’t you?” I retorted, eyes still trained on Jonathan as Steve hits Tommys chest.

Nancy moves away from us towards Jonathan. As soon as she’s out of earshot, Steve speaks to Tommy. “You are, you know. Total douche.”

At some point, Nancy follows Jonathans gaze towards us. Can’t say I blame him. If Nancy keeps us as company, he might find it hard to believe the sympathy she’s likely expressing.

I offer a small, awkward smile. It’s not like I didn’t mean it. But is a smile enough? Does he think I don’t care? He probably doesn’t even know how much I’ll be thinking of him after seeing him today.

When the bell rings for our next class to begin, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, and waited for Nancy to reach my side.

“So, Kaminskys test? You’re gunna nail it! Tell her she’s gunna nail it, Barb.”

“You know you will,” she says with a smile.

“Attention Faculty and students. At 8pm tonight, there will be an assembly on the football field in support of Will Byers and his family. All are encouraged to attend.”

And there’s that deep, despairing feeling of guilt.

The ride home that day felt silent, although it was full of noise.

Loud jokes, voices shouting over each other. But I couldn’t get out of my own head, even when Steve pushed his knee against mine to snap me out of my trance.

“Clementine… hey.”

He was leaning to my side slightly, trying to get a good look at me as I blinked.

“Hey, you’re home.”

Sure enough, we were right outside my house, bright, shiny and promising. “Oh…”

I started, unbuckling my seatbelt. I hadn’t even registered Carol and Tommy leaving.

“Thanks. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Are you alright? You’ve been weird all day,” said Steve, stopping me from opening the door.

He looked a little more offended than he did concerned, so I just nodded.

“I’m okay, I’ll feel better soon,” I promised, forcing a smile.

Luckily Steve wasn’t someone who’d paid enough attention to realise this, and he nodded satisfied.

“Alright. Are you staying over?”

“I don’t know, maybe. Dad’s been kinda freaked out lately so I might have to sneak back before he checks on me in the morning,” I explained, fixing a fallen strand of his hair to which he doesn’t blink.

In reality, I wasn’t concerned about my dad. I just knew my anxiety on last nights situation wouldn’t allow me to stay longer than I needed to.

“Well, if you change your mind, you have plenty of stuff at mine,” Steve reminded me. “Just say the word.”

I smiled genuinely this time. He’d never admit it, but Steve knew I sometimes craved company. Though if he told me he knew he’d run the risk of embarrassing me beyond belief.

“I will. Just remember to make Barbara feel welcome tonight too, okay? I know Nancy will be taken care of but Barbara’s new to this,” I warned, exiting the car, not waiting for an answer. I gave him a wave goodbye, and headed towards the door.

Empty home. Plenty of alcohol. I smirk to myself as I make my way up the stairs.

After a quick shower, I find myself stopping short at the sound of Mikes voice in the bedroom.

At first I was confused, because why the hell am I hearing this 12 year old that I wasn’t really involved with until recently in my room after school hours?

That was until I made out what he was saying, holding my towel tighter as I tumbled to the floor, digging around under my bed where I’d shoved Mikes walkie-talkie.

“Clementine, pick up! It’s about Will! Over!”

Oh, God! They found him, didn’t they?

I mean, there are many things this could be about, but I wasn’t about to dismiss a gut feeling.

“Mike? Hey, what? What’s up?” I hurried, clutching my towel closer to my chest. “Did you find Will?”

“Clementine, you need to say “over” when you’re done so I know you’re finished.”

This kid. Here I am, towel clutched to my chest, hair dripping onto my carpet, kneeling on my bedroom floor to entertain this conversation, and he’s really pushing it.

“No. Answer me, idiot.”

“Over!” He sighed. “We haven’t found him, but I think we can. Over.”

And there goes my heart, breaking on me again. I thought by now his persistence might have worn off, that he’d come to realise that the best thing to do was to let the police handle it.

“Mike, please. Listen to me. The police will find him, they know what they’re doing. They’ve dragged me home a million times at Wills age.”

“Will isn’t like you. Over.” He argues. “If you’re not going to help, don’t. We can do it ourselves. Over and out.”

“Mike!” I tried, only met with radio silence. “Mike!”

Nothing.

With a discontented huff, I lightly fling the walkie-talkie aside. At least he didn’t have to worry about the girl anymore, assuming this morning had gone according to plan.

I got dressed into the pixie boots I’d been bothering my friends about until buying them that weekend, trying to ignore the tight knot in my chest.

But the sun was setting, and the gang were outside just as I’d finished my makeup.

So shut the hell up, Clementine! And have fun!

When I lock the door behind me, the familiar jeering from the BMW begins.

“Hey, lady!” Carol shouts out the window. “You look fine.”

I teasingly scrunch my nose, settling in beside her, her perfume settling into my nostrils. With an exchange of a couple compliments, Steve finally clears his throat as he starts the car.

He watches me through the rear view mirror, eyebrows raised, expectantly. At this, I lift the bag full of beer cans into his view.

“Not that! You’ve not said hi to me or Tommy.”

“Hi, Steve. Hi, Tommy.”

I spoke flatly then I glance at Carol who tries not to grin too wide. God, is Steve high maintenance or what?

“She saw you like five hours ago,” she defended as she rummaged through the bag filled with Schiltz and Heisler beer.

“Yes, Clementine! Steve’s got some pot. Might be able to get Nancy to relax a little for once.”

“Or we could be super nice and not be pushy,” I suggested, ignoring Tommys scoff from the passenger seat. “That’d help her relax. And we need to talk about Barbara.”

“What about her?” Tommy asks, already with a disinterested tone.

“You need to try harder with her. She’s just trying to make sure Nancy is comfortable, and we’re not making it easy for her to be around us.”

“We just have a bit of fun,” he answered, now with a slow grin. “We all tease each other, maybe she just needs to learn to take a joke.”

I don’t like it one bit. I know how I’d feel if the shoe had been on the other foot. If it was me being treated like a joke by a bunch of people just because my friend liked them.

“Alright, we hear you. Play nice, alright?” Steve warned with half a heart.

I mumble a quick thanks as Carol cracks open a can, shoving it into my hands. We hadn’t even pulled up to Steve’s driveway yet, and already I’m being insulted.

“Get the stick out your ass,” she comments, not unlike I suspected she would. “We promise we’ll be extra, extra nice.”

I stared for a moment at her never-faltering grin then took the beer from her and tipped it back.

The car erupted with unnecessary whooping and applause making me roll my eyes. But I smiled nonetheless.

“‘Atta girl!”

Following the momentum, we started the party a little early to get nice and tipsy before the girls arrived. “We have to set the tone, don’t we?” Was the excuse.

“Duh!” I agreed, sitting on the chair opposite Steve, trying to ignore the couple eating each other on the couch. “You never did tell me how it went last night.”

“That’s because we didn’t do anything.”

Now this, I might have believed. But the smile on his face is one of pure satisfaction and it makes me not so sure. “Nothing? Not even a little?”

“We made out. And I helped her study for Kaminskys test.”

“Wait, you actually helped her study?” I questioned, suspiciously. He couldn’t have passed last years chemistry with the help of Steven Hawking. “That wasn’t an innuendo?”

He shakes his head, and I let out a small sound of understanding. “I see. But tonight?”

For a second he looks caught out. As if I’d be mad that he preplanned sleeping with Nancy. Or maybe it was how unromantic the setting was. In a house with all his friends in it?

“Steve, seriously?”

“I like her, alright? And I always listen to you when you tell me I’m not thinking clearly or whatever but… I want this. And I want to keep seeing her.” He explains as though asking for permission. I mean, he basically is asking for permission, I know that much.

I sigh, his face looking genuinely innocent.

“And if she says no?”

“Then no! Clem, you think I’m an animal or something?”

“I think all teenage boys are animals,” I clarified, gulping at my beer. “But I believe you so…“

And there it is. The words he’s wanted to hear leave my mouth for God knows how long hadn’t even come out, but he knows. You can see it happening, his eyes lighting up, beaming smile stretching across this entire face.

“You’re the Devil, Steve Harrington.” Yes.

“You’re the best, Clementine Chase!” Thank you!

Heard it before. But it made me happy anyways.

I’ve had this feeling lately that he means it, and I wouldn’t stand in the way of that.

A few drinks in, the doorbell rings, and Steve is wearing a killer smirk, ready for tonight’s inevitable affairs.

Tommy and Carol, who were still going at it like ––well, teenagers ––were eventually forced apart by my unsought and sudden presence above them.

“Move it, losers. We got company to entertain.”

The pair snicker at one another before pulling away, and I find myself having to remind them once more to play nice. Though, Raise a Little Hell by Trooper playing loudly around the room wasn’t helping me make my point.

Steve was showing the girls through to the living room in no time, and they looked no more awkward than I’d expected them to. I guess that goes for something.

“Now the party can really get started!” Tommy jeered, cracking open yet another can. “Take a seat ladies, catch up.”

“We’ve had some pre-drinks,” I explained, guiding the pair to the couch. I thought it best not to mention it had been the designated baby-making area in years previous. It look a lot of tongue biting not to make that joke, one that would normally come naturally.

The pair shuffled over to where I’d guided them, and I handed them a drink each.

They look towards each other, then take the beer with hesitance.

“You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to,” said Steve, taking Nancys coat, then motioning to Barb who decided to keep hers on.

“But we’ll judge you super hard if you don’t,” Carol began, batting her lashes as she throws back her own.

“Don’t listen to Carol, her family tree doesn’t have a lot of branches,” I told, throwing a glare her way. One she shrugged off entirely.

Of course.

“No, I- I’m cool to drink. It’s a party, right?”

This makes Steve smile, watching as Nancy cracks her can open.

“Cheers!”

The real party was outside. The girls don’t know it, but there nothing like fresh air when you’re drinking. Not much feels better than a cool breeze against the flushed skin and burning cheeks brought on by alcohol. But they’d discover this soon enough.

“You’re good with hangovers, right?” I asked, aimed at either one of the two.

Nancy already sat semi-comfortably on a lounger, cracking a smile as the couple in front of us carried on, pushing each other around, tickling each others sides.

Barbara, on the other hand, almost disappears into the back, open can of beer growing flat.

“Will I get hungover from beer?”

I want to laugh. God, do I want to laugh. but the idea that it might be taken menacingly helps me bite my tongue.

“Depends how much you drink. Plus you don’t normally drink, do you?”

After a beat, she shook her head. She smiled with flushed cheeks, as if the admission were embarrassing.

“Well, we’ll look out for you,” I promised, cheering my can against hers. “Hangovers aren’t fun, right Tommy?”

“Huh?” He stopped mid-tickle, capturing his giggling girlfriend in his arms. “Remember our hangover got so bad we skipped school for two days?”

It was one of those hangovers that felt like the world had shifted ever-so-slightly, and would never be the same again. Everything was dark, no one knew if they’d said anything regretful, if we’d been in a fight, if we’d ever recover from the sickness churning in our stomachs.

Steve hadn’t mastered smoking and drinking and opted to smoke, and Carol had been at camp. But we never bring up the camping as to not embarrass her too much. Or else, we’re in trouble. We laugh at the memory, one of the only fond ones we have together despite how horrible the experience was in itself.

“It’s only beer,” I told with a smile. “You’ll be fine.”

It wasn’t much, but it went for something. I could tell by the way her shoulders relaxed, and how quickly she tipped back the contents of her drink. The couple were back to annoying the life out us all, an unnecessarily loud scream drawn from Carol when Tommy threatens to push her into the pool.

Then Steve cutting a hole into his can and lapping like hell at the thing. I’d call it the dumbest party stunt in the book but I’ve seen him do a lot stupider at these things.

“Is that supposed to impress me?” Nancy flirts, eyeing his movements as he takes a seat near by.

He watches her in mock surprise, popping the cancer stick that he’d propped on his ear between his lips.

“You’re not?”

“You’re a cliché, you do realise that.”

It’s all smiles and beckoning eyes, and Steve lights his cigarette as he speaks.

“You are a cliché. What with your grades and your band practice…”

I wish I could smile at the pair, but I found myself thinking back on Mikes words from earlier.

Quite abruptly, I found myself wondering if I should go to the Wheelers and to make sure nothing bad was going on.

Was that stupid?

Too drunk to keep a singular train of thought, I lean into Carol who wraps an arm around my shoulder. I’m able to bring myself to focus on Nancy, now with a beer and the small knife in her clutch.

Steve starts an encouraging chant of, “chug, chug, chug!” And I found myself unable to join in, even when it was Barbara’s turn, Barbara who couldn’t be more interested but done so for Nancys sake.

I only snapped out of my disinterest at the clanging of the small knife on the ground.

Tommy chuckles as Barbara sucks her bleeding finger into her mouth and she pushes Nancys attempts to help away.

The cut was deep between her thumb and finger, enough to make a grown man flinch.

“Barb,” I began, guiding her away with a hand on her back. “I’ll show you the bathroom.”

“Can I use it?” Barb looks towards Steve who scrambles off his lounger, motioning her into the house. “Okay, thanks.”

As we move through the house, I stop by the kitchen and point her towards the bathroom door.

“Barb,” I sighed once she’d appeared again, bandage wrapped over her hand. I’d made a snap decision. “I think I’m going to leave early, just not feeling it tonight,” I lied. I don’t suppose there’s another excuse for this decision. It truly just came on out of nowhere but it’s not ignorable.

“Oh, did you want a ride home?”

“No, please stay. Tommy and Carol are dicks, but I promise Steve’s alright. And it might be good for Nancy to have you there,” I tried, hand on her arm. It was flitting, but she nodded anyways.

“I just meant I could drive you home then come back.”

“No, I’m fine. The fresh air might be good for me.”

Why I ever thought I could get through this night unbothered by earlier is beyond me. It was different when I thought this whole situation would work out. But the more drinks I down, the more what ifs begin to dance around in my head.

I was left alone to wander into Steve’s kitchen, and I’d gone straight to the phone, hoping like hell I could remember the last couple of numbers of the Wheelers.

“Hello?”

I’d remembered, alright. I consider myself lucky it was Mike who picked up in the first place, probably picking up from his grungy basement. I don’t know how I’d ask Karen to speak to her 12 year old while I’m drunk out my face.

“Mike. I have a bad feeling.”

Radio silence. Either there was something he didn’t want to tell me or he was offended by the insinuation that anything had gone wrong.

“Mike?”

“She’s still here.”

I cursed under my breath at him. I knew something was off, and that I wasn’t totally crazy.

“Why? You can’t just-“

“Clementine, she’s in danger. No one can know where she is, alright?” And for a second, it’s as though he’s deciding whether or not he should say any more. But then he hits out with someone so agonisingly ridiculous I don’t even know if he’s joking. “She knows where Will is.”

“That’s not scary?” I hiss, grip tightening on the phone. “Did she say where he is?”

“El can barely speak!” He argues, exasperated once more. Truly, it’s his permanent state. “And it’s not that simple. El can do things. With her mind. I think Will was taken by the same bad guys that were after her, but that’s where it gets… funny.”

I don’t believe what I’m hearing. Am I seriously this drunk off a couple of stupid beers? Likely. “Slow your goddamn roll! El? Bad guys? What do you mean do things?”

“El is short for Eleven — that’s her name — and there are creeps after her,” he rushed, desperate to get to his next point. “I’m trying to tell you that we’re on a rescue mission. Will is in serious, serious danger.”

And with that I’m out the front door with Mikes words ringing in my head.

The plan was for the kid to stay there one more night, and I’d be filled in tomorrow. “Keep this discreet,” he’d warned.

“Shut up, you moron.”

This week is one from hell, and it isn’t over yet. Not even close…

#original character #steve x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things rewrite #tommy and Carol are douches #barbara holland #justice for Barb #eventual romance #friends to lovers #slow burn #like crazy slow

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eddiessluttywaist · 2 years ago

Text

as if

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie taunts reader daily, but… she kinda likes it? just never does anything about it. not until she has to tutor him, anyway.

pairing: bully!mean!perv!eddie munson x perv!fem reader

word count: 7,901 words

content/warnings: swearing, some angst at the beginning kinda, mention of death (barb), SMUT MDNI (y/n is 18), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, bully kink (?), dominating, arguing, breeding kink, hate sex, brief masturbation mentions, mocking, teasing, anxiety kinda, spitting, invasion of privacy (eddie goes through her things), eddie’s a dirty lil pantie stealer and sniffer, y/n is a c*m sl*t, bulge kink(?), dacryphilia, groping, choking, daddy kink if you squint real hard, mentions of virginity (y/n is not a virgin), pet names (doll face, princess), degradation (use of slut). i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!

a/n: i have to say tbh i don’t see eddie ever being a bully so this is technically like an au!eddie?…but also… uhhhh very hot. makes my brain wiggle with heat waves so here we are. hope you like it! <3

part two - part three

As if.

It’s a simple statement, really, and you meant no harm when you said it. It was just something to be said… that didn’t mean he didn’t hear it though.

That also didn’t mean it didn’t tick him off.

You were surprisingly pretty to be in the geek group, but in the cruel and tyrannical world of high school girls..? Alas, no amount of lip gloss or cute skirts could free you of the fact that you were smart. Not only smart, but a geek. A nerd—who was shy around most—and you got along with nearly all of the teachers because of how well-behaved and intelligent you were. And, on occasion—although you always tried your best to not come off this way—a bit of a know-it-all.

That was the final nail in your coffin, really. Correcting Carol Perkins in American History in front of everyone back in your freshman year. (Her sophomore year and already irritable about having to take a freshman course 2 years in a row). You meant well, but she had it out for you ever since. The tyrant, as it was, made it entirely impossible for you to make your way up the food chain.

So in your sophomore year of high school, back in Autumn of ‘83, you were among the peasants just like him—even as a senior (for the first time). He took a quiet interest in you. You were cute and soft-spoken. You were a sophomore, though, and the fact that you were 15 at the time made the 17 year old scrunch up his nose whenever he remembered. He could still look, though, right? There was no harm in that…

Nancy and Barb took notice of it all pretty quickly. The way that the senior would scan over your outfits everyday. The way that he might’ve smirked a little if you had to bend over to pick something up, simply staring at your behind rather than coming over to get your things for you. The pair would exchange glances that you were adorably unaware of, over his attention that you were also so endearingly oblivious to. One day, they finally burst over it in the hallway, and he overheard.

“I think a senior likes you.” Nancy teased, gripping her Geometry textbook to her chest.

“What?” You had let out a slight laugh, digging through you locker. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh my god, seriously?” Barb interjected. “Aren’t you supposed to be smart? Observant?”

You were all wide-eyed over that, pouty lips opening and then closing as you struggled to find your words before finally landing on a frustrated huff and a simple “Shut up.”

“He stares at you all the time.” Nancy pushed with a teasing smile.

“Like you can talk.” You teased, slamming your locker shut before resting your back against it. “Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington is totally all over you.” You smirked at the way her face instantly heated up.

“I- He- It’s not like that.” She insisted, completely flustered. And while Barb agreed with you, she wasn’t interested in letting you direct the conversation elsewhere.

“Besides he’s just a Junior. The guy who likes you is a Senior.” Nancy tacked on.

“Like there’s really that big of a difference?” You raised a brow.

“There is.” Barb scoffs.

“Well then if it’s such a huge deal… can’t you just tell me who it is?”

“You seriously don’t know?” Barb questioned and the ginger-brunette pair tilted their heads while they looked at you with a sort of exasperated disbelief. You just gave them that wide eyed look again and shrugged your shoulders.

Barb broke first with a scoff and a bright smile. “Eddie Munson. He stares at you all the time.”

Eddie Munson. He wasn’t popular by any means, but he was still a Senior. He was still attractive to you, and could still make an underclassmen blush if he gave them any attention simply because he was older and a little dangerous. He just didn’t show any interest in any of the other younger students, just a little curiosity towards you.

“Eddie Munson?” You had laughed a little, which made him furrow his brows as he listened in just around the corner of the hall at his own locker. You were being dismissive out of nerves, not out of any sort of malicious intent, but that’s not how he took your tone. After all, he was a cynical man.

“As if.”

After that he was a bit bitter towards you. Then he was a little mean. And then he was just plain cruel. He was an asshole. He was a bully.

Since his interest being pointed out to you, you occasionally glanced over at him to see if he really was staring. But he either acted like you didn’t exist, or whenever his gaze did meet yours the corners of his lips turned down and his brow frowned with disgust before looking elsewhere.

When Barb went missing, you and Nancy were temporarily joined at the hip in your efforts to figure out what happened. Then one day Nancy went cold on you. Started making excuses and hardly speaking to you otherwise. You didn’t understand, finding yourself completely alone as you scattered “Missing Person” posters all over Hawkins.

You had no idea what happened with Barb at the time and still had no clue what happened with your friendship with Nance to this very day. Maybe the loss was too much. Maybe Nancy couldn’t handle the reminder of your perfect trio. She was always closer to Barb than you. Maybe Barb missing and then turning up dead made it too difficult for her to face you. Maybe she was all caught up in two guys being completely obsessed with her, which admittedly made you a little jealous.

Soon enough you seemed to be completely off one another’s radars. It made high school even lonelier for you. You eventually found some new friends in other corners of the “Smart Kids” lunch table, but it was never like it was with Nancy and Barb.

So by the time he started getting a little mean, there wasn’t really anyone to protect you. Your new friends were skittish around the metalhead. Nance and Barb would’ve stood up for you once, but that support system was obliterated back in ‘83.

So when he shoved past you in the halls later in your sophomore year, no one gave it any thought. When he was pulling your hair in your Junior year then acting all innocent when you turned around to confront him, still no one cared. Now in your Senior year—and him in his third—whenever you thought he couldn’t be worse, he proved you wrong and did so with a devilish grin.

He pulled your hair. He tripped you. He stood behind you in line at lunch and would flip up the back of your skirt. He smacked your books out of your hands. He openly mocked you while leaning back in his chair at lunch with that smug look on his face. He mimicked your contributions in class under his breath, knowing you’d hear him and trip over your words. He snuck filthy messages into your locker that made your face burn with embarrassment and disgust—disgust for him and for the way his perverted words made your thighs press together. He would speed up whenever you were walking or biking home just to scare the shit out of you. He would take any opportunity to shove you or throw things at you or press his body up against yours in a derisive and vulgar manner—especially in gym class. He would “playfully” hump you from behind and nearly knock you over whenever you bent over and there was no teacher paying attention. Or spank you. Or pinch your ass.

He was horrible. Disgusting. Obnoxious. Crude. Vile. He made you go home with tears in your eyes most days, but the worst part was how much you liked the attention. You hated yourself for it. You wished you were running to the nearest adult to tell them every last thing he did to you. You wished you were standing up to him and calling him a disgusting pig in front of everyone which surely would’ve pulled out some “Ooo”s and maybe even some of the Seniors that hated him would’ve joined in. Maybe even had your back, even if it was temporary.

But you didn’t because by now when he pulled your hair, you had to refrain from whimpering or moaning. When he tripped you, you thought of the things he could do to you now you were already on your hands and knees. When he flipped up your skirt you always gasped and shoved him away, secretly hoping he’d do it again—even starting to wear only your cutest pairs of panties to school. When he smacked your books out of your hands, you actually liked that it was him causing you to bend over or get on your knees to collect your things again. When he decided to mock you from over at his spot at lunch, you got butterflies from the way he said your name and the way his dimples sunk into his cheeks. When he mimicked you in class, you tripped over your words because his voice and tangible presence got you all flustered and hot. When you got to your locker, you secretly hoped to see the torn off corner of some notebook page flutter onto the floor with the most obscene words. When he sped up to scare you, you thought about screaming something so bold at him that he would screech to a halt and reverse before telling you to get in his van, now.

You liked when he threw things at you like balled up paper to your cheek in class or a basketball to your side in gym. You liked when he shoved you or pressed against you because in his attempts to intimidate you with his touch and his proximity, it made your knees weak. You liked how he pinched your ass or gave it a little smack when you bent over and your teacher wasn’t looking. And you loved when he would thrust up against you whenever you were bent over and there was no teacher around at all, because his bulge pressed up against you (even while he was laughing devilishly) made you ache.

He was so utterly horrible to you, and yet when you found yourself grinding on your hand at night on top of your pink, white and yellow quilt—you were thinking about him and how mean he was. You were thinking about how mean he would be as he fucked you. Taunting you and teasing you and mocking you. You spasmed around your fingers and choked down your cries at the thought of him bullying your cunt.

It was all a fantasy, though. He never interacted with you longer than a few seconds, and was always with him in control. If you walked up to him and told him you wanted him to fuck you like the bully he was, he probably would’ve died laughing right before your eyes and told everyone he knew about your embarrassing lust for the guy who made your life a living hell. But now you were being cornered into spending time with him, and being faced with a real-life scenario where you were together made your palms sweat.

“I know he’s a difficult young man, but if you tutor him I’ll figure something out with the principal. Some sort of extra credit maybe.”

“There’s no one else that could tutor him?” You choked out, nerves on edge. Ms. O’Donnell gave you a sympathetic smile and shook her head.

“All busy.”

Busy, my ass you wanted to huff out. They were probably all avoiding him like the plague. O’Donnell was desperate to get his grade up and get him out of the damn school, which you didn’t blame her for, but god… why you?

“Okay…” You relented, a sad twitch for a smile when she sighed in relief and thanked you incessantly.

“I’ve already spoken to him about needing a tutor, I’ll let him know the good news, okay?”

You nodded with a meek “okay,” and tried to go on with the rest of your day as if you weren’t wracked with fear, excitement, concern over your excitement. You were on edge all day, and nearly jumped out of you seat when you were called to the office over the speakers about 5 minutes to the end of your last class. You swallowed anxiously, collecting your things and trying to ignore the “ooo”s over you being summoned to the principal’s office—assuming you were in trouble.

You trudged towards your destination, pausing when you spotted him slack in one of the chairs by the front desk that he frequented more than anyone else. You considered running in the opposite direction and making up some lie to Ms. O’Donnell the next day, but then Mrs. White beamed at you after happening to glance away from her clunky typewriter.

“Miss Y/L/N! Come on in, dear.” She spoke cheerfully in a way that went through you sideways. Eddie’s eyes shot up to you, smirking around the fingernail he was chewing at and clearly considering spitting it at you if Mrs. White hadn’t been paying attention. You toyed with the ends of your sleeves anxiously, listening to Mrs. White discuss the details Ms. O’Donnell had ready. What topics to go over (which was just about everything). How many times per week she wanted you to tutor him (at least once/week). The only thing left out was when and where.

“Oh that’s up to you two, hon.” She chirped. “Just compare your schedules.”

“It’s not in school? With a teacher around?” You questioned anxiously, but she was oblivious to your worries.

“Nope, no need for supervision. We like to give the tutors space from the teachers while they work with others, we find that the students that need help take to that better.”

“Sure do.” Eddie spoke up, and you nearly flinched at how close he sounded. You glanced over and he must’ve just gotten out of the hard plastic chair cause he was slightly leaned back to give his body a stretch causing his chest to puff out a little, his hands moving to rest by his hips as he tugged his jeans up.

“What? Scared of me ‘r somethin’?” He whispered playfully, a hand moving up to rest over his heart as he feigned offense before his act melted away to show his usual smirk. He winked at you, and you swallowed nervously as you looked back at Mrs. White again who was blissfully unaware of his malevolence.

“So here you go… those worksheets and… a time sheet.” The woman grinned as she placed the last paper on top before sliding everything over. “You just have to add the dates that you study together, and you both have to sign each time. Ms. O’Donnell said writing a quick synopsis of what you went over would be nice too, but not necessary. The most important thing is seeing a difference in Mr. Munson’s grades.”

“Sounds good to me, Pam.” Eddie smiled at Mrs. White whose sunny demeanor sunk into a more serious expression while you put the papers away neatly in one of your folders.

“What have we talked about, Mr. Munson? Use my first name again and you’ll find your butt in detention this Saturday for such disrespect. Again.”

He puts his hands up as if apologizing for his actions, but he was still grinning ear to ear. Mrs. White eyed him with a tight lipped scowl, then looked at you.

“Good luck.”

You were gonna need it.

The ride to your house in his rusty van was surprisingly quiet beyond his music. You were on edge which he enjoyed like always, but he was clearly saving the torment for when he was inside your home. You wished your parents were home, even if they were tucked away in another room, but they were both gone for the weekend to attend your Aunt’s wedding. Not that you’d let him know that.

“We’ll be studying in the dining room. And no funny business. My dad’s in his office and he doesn’t like being disturbed while he’s working.” You lied seamlessly, making your way over to the dining table, Eddie lazily sauntering along.

“Oo does daddy have a temper?” He teased in a whisper. “Gonna come out and spank you if you bother him too much?”

He gave you a mocking pout and your face scrunched up with irritation.

“Just sit so we can get this over with.”

“I’m sorry are you under the false impression that you’re in charge here, doll face?” He questioned, keeping his anger mostly disguised by his inquisitive tone.

“Well, I’m the tutor so-“ You scoff out, avoiding looking at him as you pulled all of your study materials from your bag.

“Yeah and that means something to me because…?” He drew out his last word as he spun on his heels and casually walked away.

“I- what-“ You sputtered. “What are you doing?”

“You know it’s awfully rude to have a guest and not give them a tour of the place.” He spoke casually, grabbing the ends of picture frames hanging on the walls to get a better look at them before letting them drop back again. You were hot on his heels, fixing every frame he left crooked. He paused at a picture of you from camp in a bikini with some of the friends you made that summer, smug and sucking at his teeth a little as he eyed the image of you.

“Real cute…still got it?” He looked over at you, his hair shifting over his shoulder as he eyed you. “Wanna model it for me? Make all this worth my while?”

Your cheeks were starting to turn pink.

“We have to study.”

“Eh.” He shrugs, and looks over to spot the staircase behind him. He slunk around the corner and made his way up the carpeted steps.

“Hey- hey! You’re not allowed up there!” You shout after him, rushing to follow after him. He was already on the second floor when he turned and shushed you.

“Don’t wanna make daddy angry, right? He’s hard at work if I’m remembering correctly.” He whispered with a joking concern for your father’s focus who wasn’t even here, and you worried he knew that. He continued on along the hallway and you stayed behind him, wishing there was something you could do to get him to stop. He opened doors along the way, inspecting the interior with a mild curiosity. The upstairs bathroom. Your parent’s room. The spare bedroom. Then-

“Ah, here we are.” Your bedroom at the end of the hall.

“Please get out of my room.” You pleaded, but he continued on his quest. He looked at the makeup on your vanity, toppling some of the products over like a careless cat before moving on. He toyed with any photos in your room, sniffed at the perfume bottles on your dresser.

“Eddie-“ You started, clenching your jaw as he found the perfume you wore the most often and sprayed some of it on the crotch of his jeans. Then he just kept a hold on it as he waltzed around your room, spraying it several times just to waste your favorite product.

“That’s rude.” You spoke up, your lips pouting slightly. He snickered at your comment, how you sounded like a wronged child.

“Aw well if you need to touch up your perfume at all, you know where to get it.” He grinned, pointing to his groin before continuing to go through your things. The concept was strange but still made you clench simply from the thought of having to rub at his bulge to get something you wanted. He didn’t waste that much of your fragrance, but the idea was still burning in your mind.

He muttered disapproving comments at the posters on your walls and the cassettes he rummaged through until he got bored. You were nervous about interfering even as he invaded your privacy, until he was opening your top drawer to go through your panties and bras.

“Hey! That’s too far!” You gasp, rushing over to slam the drawer closed again. He shoved you back and opened it again.

“Quit being so fucking uptight.”

“Quit going through things that don’t belong to you!” You talked back which was still surprising him every time you did, but certainly didn’t let it show.

“Yeah well quit pissing me off before I put you in your fucking place.” He seethes, giving you an angry warning look that felt like fire all over you. You wanted to cry, to tell him to stop being so mean to you, but it would be useless. You’d just end up feeling pathetic as he laughed over your misery. You just had to stand there and watch as he kept going through your underwear drawer.

“Ooh, cute. I don’t think I’ve seen these yet.” He clicked his tongue and blew out an impressed breath as he held up a black lacy number. “‘d love to leave some stains on these for you, doll face.”

“You’re disgusting.” You blurt out, but the thought of his cum spurting onto your new pair of panties made you feel warm. He smirked at your frustration, tucking the underwear into his pocket.

“Those are new!”

He shrugs, shoving the drawer closed again with enough careless force to knock over a picture frame perched on top. He doesn’t seem to care until he’s spinning around with his finger pointed at you and that wicked look on his face.

“You know what, though? You bring up a great point.” He tugs the lace from his pocket and holds it up to his nose before letting out a disappointed sigh. “Now that’s a problem. Still smell like whatever cutesy store you got ‘em from.”

You have a moment of hope that he’s trying to be nice and provide an opportunity to give them back to you, even if he’s going about it in a dirty way. But that doesn’t last long, even when he’s tossing them back to you.

“Why don’t you put ‘m on for me, huh? Then when you give ‘em to me on my way out I’ll have proof of how fucking wet I get you.” He spoke so smoothly as he got closer to you, that it almost blanketed the filth of his words as something soft or even sweet.

“As if.” You scoff out in a huff, and there’s a fury to his gaze that you don’t understand.

“Yeah… as if.” He murmurs darkly, getting closer to you. You swallow nervously and take a step back. “Cause fuck me, right? I’m just some good-for-nothing asshole who you wouldn’t give the time of day. Not a priss like you.”

“I-I’m not a-“

“Oh dad!” He’s suddenly shouting at the top of his lungs in a sing-song manner, his body whipped around to face your doorway, and your eyes go wide.

“Stop-“

“Hey! I just wanna meet Mr. Y/L/N! Spending time with your lovely daughter!” He spoke with a passionate respect that you knew was coming from a hateful place. He had gone to your doorframe and was listening for any kind of response. A verbal acknowledgement. The sound of steps or creaking floorboards to tell him there was actually going to be someone to confront him.

His grin became devious as he went to the steps again. “Hello?” He calls, dragging out that last vowel.

“Will you quit it!” You hiss, tears prickling at your eyes now at the thought of him realizing you were all alone. Just you and him. And that you had lied to him.

He was turning around, sure now that the only people in this house were you and him. His dimples were pushing into his cheeks again as he sucked at his teeth, approaching you at the doorway to your bedroom like a cocky killer. The kind that you saw in horror movies that knew they had their prey cornered and could have some fun with it.

Out of nerves and a need to keep a barrier between the two of you, you took a quick step back and went to slam your door shut so you could lock it, but he got there in time to stop in with an outstretched arm. He pushed it open so harshly that you were sure there would be a dent in your wall where the doorknob was forced into it.

God, you couldn’t stand the way he looked right now. So proud. So smug. That shit-eating grin that told you he knew he was winning. That fury from before still lingering. He noticed the gloss to your eyes and tuts as a mocking pout reaches his lips.

“Upset about somethin’, doll? Someone got you all worked up?”

You huff out your nose, your lips screwed into a frown and your eyes still stinging with unshed tears.

“You’re so… so… mean! I hate you!” You shout, and without even realizing it you had stomped your foot at your last statement. It makes him pause, his expression unreadable for a moment as he considers everything until it all lands on amusement. He crosses his arms over his chest, grin wild and his hair flowing with him as he tilts his head with intrigue.

“Did you just stomp your foot at me, princess?” He teases, and your face feels so hot you wonder if he can see the flush of pink even through your foundation. He can. You refuse to answer him, fighting back the urge to fully cry in front of him. He’s getting closer though until he’s brushing up against you and looking down at you. God, he’s so warm.

“Aw… such a sensitive girl. Look at you.” He murmurs as he continues backing you two up until you’re pressed against the wall, one of those posters he disapproved of crinkling against your hair. He’s making fun of you like always but there’s a softness around the edges of his words. Blurred by a desire to do just about anything to you. He reaches his hand up to drag the pad of his thumb over your pouty lower lip before bringing his hand down to grasp you by your chin.

“Bet your pussy’s just as responsive as the rest of ya, huh?” He whispers as he makes you look up at him. Your nostrils flare momentarily and you keep looking up at him but you still won’t speak and you still won’t let those tears fall.

“I bet your cunt is just as weepy. All hot and wet when I’m fucking you into shape.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to refrain from whimpering or letting your lips part for a soft sigh. Anything that would confirm how badly you want him to figure out just how right he is. But then his anger flares back up as he’s gripping your jaw now, squeezing just enough to make it uncomfortable.

“Speak when you’re spoken to.” He demands in a low voice with a sort of growl to it that makes your knees weak. You part your lips as you consider answering him like you’re told, and he raises his brows while waiting. Then, in a brazen defiance, you spit in his face instead.

He’s so solid it’s almost like he doesn’t care. Not a flinch or a crack in his demeanor. Then he’s moving his hand from your jaw to your throat and gripping onto it enough that you gasp.

“I’ve been spat on my whole fucking life, you think that’s gonna make a difference here, princess? Think that’s gonna make me respect you? Think you’re brave?”

Your hands reach up to rest over his on your neck, a mewl vibrating from the back of your throat. He leans in closer to your face, your lips parting wider as he tightens his grip.

“It just makes me think you’re stupid.” He finishes before spitting directly into your open mouth. He’s releasing you from his grip right after, wiping your saliva from his cheek while you catch your breath. A soft moan escapes you before you can keep it at bay and his inflated ego is tangible. He’s eyeing you with a sort of amazed intrigue that pulls him back to you, his arms lifting to place his hands on the wall on either side of your head.

“You like it, don’t you?” He laughs and you shake your head furiously, but he isn’t buying it. “You could’ve gotten my ass suspended—hell, even expelled—ages ago. And yet…?”

“I just felt bad that you’re such a fucking idiot.“

“Dirty girl.” He hisses inward through his teeth as if burned by your words, but you were just egging him on.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” He wondered in a soft tone, hand back to your jaw as you stayed quiet. “Will you kiss daddy with that mouth?” He added with a lazy grin, exuding dominance and arrogance.

You became a little slack jawed at the implication, and he was on you. Hand still on your jaw, he pressed his lips to yours. You feigned protest at first with a few kicks and smacks, but then he had your wrists pinned against the wall and you sunk into the kiss. He kept you pinned for a few moments, until he was sure you were relaxed. He dropped his hands down to completely engulf your waist in his arms, and keep you pressed against him. The kiss was filthy with anger-fueled lust and slips of moans on your end and grunts from his.

“I hate you.” You whispered in between kisses, his hands moving to grip your ass now.

“Yeah you do.” He chuckled proudly against your lips before beginning to trail his lips down your jaw to your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed, hands settled on his muscular back as he sucked and bit at your neck, messy hair tickling you. More sounds slipped from you with no attempt to hold them back, a teary whimper hanging on your lips after he bit down on your neck hard enough to pull a yelp from you.

“Gonna mark you all up…” He muttered against your skin, making your head swirl.

“Gonna have you walking into school and have everyone know who you belong to.” He pulled back now, breathless and his full lips all pink with attention. His eyes were dark with lust, and it all made you whimper. The sound made him laugh in disbelief.

“Yeah? Such a slut. Bet you can’t wait to walk in with my hickeys all over you. Might even fuck you in the back of my van beforehand. Make you go to class full of my cum.”

You almost can’t believe him or yourself as you nod your head dumbly with a desperate pout. He groans at the sight and pulls you to him again, his lips back on yours as his hands reach down to hook under your thighs and lift you up. You’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist, a soft cry escaping when he starts grinding against you. He’s so hard and feels so pressed into his jeans, you’re both afraid and alight at the thought of just how big he probably is.

Eddie made his way over towards your bed until his legs made contact with your bed frame. He pulled away from the kiss to drop you on the bed carelessly. You lifted your torso up by digging your elbows back into your mattress, legs bent up at the knee and parted for him while you watched him undo his belt. He noticed you staring, and his gaze traveled along your form. Your knit sweater. Your pleated skirt.

“Take that shit off.” He said with a slight jut of his chin in the direction of your top, hands paused at the waist of his jeans and boxers. You hesitated at first, mostly at his hesitation to pull down his bottoms, but also out of nerves that your body wouldn’t be good enough. He made fun of you for just about everything. Surely he would tease you for that too.

“Did I fucking stutter?” His voice rose just a touch, his expression showing his impatience. At that your eyes went a bit wide again, and you lifted your sweater over your head and then the t-shirt you had on underneath. His hand was under his undone jeans, palming himself through his boxers as he looked over your naked torso.

“Bra too.” He murmured, and your nerves subsided from the way he looked at you. It was all hunger and lust and some impatience, but that was common. But no mockery. He wasn’t gearing up to make fun of your body cause he’s been waiting to see it. It was even better than he imagined, and he stopped a groan in his throat when you unclasped your bra and put it off to the side.

“Fuck…” He sighed out, squeezing his hard cock in his fist. You arched your back, which he initially enjoyed, until he realized your hand was moving to unzip the back of your skirt.

“Hey.” His harsh tone broke through, his free hand slapping your thigh. “Did I say take the skirt off?”

Your lips parted, and he jerked his head forward with a wide, frustrated gaze. It was as if he was saying “Hello? Earth to Y/N?”

He rolled his eyes as you shook your head no, and moved your hands away. He muttered under his breath and settled himself between your legs before deciding you weren’t close enough. His hands grasped your thighs to pull you closer, a surprised giggle bubbling in your chest from the action. He didn’t acknowledge it because he was trying to not let it show that it made him want to smirk. Just like when you get all teary-eyed. Or stomp your feet. Or finally get enough nerve to talk back. Even getting a giggle out of you made him smug, despite the fact that he had only ever seemed to enjoy making you miserable.

Eddie flips your skirt up onto your stomach, licking his lips at the sight of the light blue cotton panties he had already seen in the lunch line today. He finally tugged his jeans and boxers down below his balls, and started pumping his dick in his hand. Your nerves lit up at the sight of it—thick and with a bit of a curve to it. You wanted to see more of him, but the likelihood of that was slim to none. He enjoyed the control he had in this relationship, and that meant he liked having you almost completely naked in front of him while he was practically still dressed. He smirked as pre-cum beaded up on his tip and let it drip onto the fabric of your underwear. He dipped down to drag his tip along your covered slit to make a mess of your panties with his pre-cum. You inhaled sharply at the feeling, biting the inside of your lip whenever he nudged your clit.

“I like these panties…” You complained, knowing how much better it would be for him to ruin a pair of underwear you love.

“Aw…” He tutted, leaning over you as he mimicked the pout on your lips. “Don’t tell me that cause then I might have to cum all over them. ‘N I thought you wanted it inside.”

You mewled again, nodding your head which he mimicked too. The little shake of your head, the sound you made.

“Such a whiny, needy girl.” He said as if he cared. He hooked a finger under your panties and tugged at them, fighting the fabric over your legs one handed before holding them up to his nose. His eyes were trained on the sight of your sopping pussy as he breathed in, his cock twitching in his fist. He cursed under his breath, only pulling the fisted cloth away to stuff into his back pocket. His now free hand moved forward to drag his fingers through your slit, proud to feel how soaked and puffy you were already.

“You a virgin, doll?” He purred, tilting his head with a sickeningly sweet grin, the curled corners of his lips devilish. It was saccharine and mean. He figured you’d say yes because no one at school seemed to want you, but then you shook your head.

You lost your virginity at that summer camp you were at in the picture he was ogling earlier. It was awkward and felt strange, and you didn’t have much experience beyond that, but you weren’t a virgin. You thought he’d like you better this way anyways, already ready for him to fuck, but it ticked him off.

“No?” He asked, pushing two thick fingers into your cunt and making you gasp. The pressure on that sweet spot right at your entrance was buzzing with pleasure, but it still ached a little. “Guess you’re the little slut I always thought you were, hm?”

He was pushing his fingers in deep and curling them up into that spongy spot that made you whine and your thighs tremble.

“Who is he?” Eddie urged, his expression back to the irritation you were familiar with. You weren’t answering, all of your focus on his thick fingers and the rings that adorned them pinching the edge of your entrance.

“Who. Is. He?” He repeated, moving his face a bit closer to yours in bursts with every word, his head tilting to the left then to the right then back to the left to punctuate his words. He was slowing it down for you like you were dumb, and his fingers stopped moving—all of this making you huff.

“No one-“ You whine hopelessly, and he was starting to pull his hand away but you shot yours out to grip his wrist and keep his fingers deep between your legs. “No one, no one important.” You continued. “It was at summer camp, he’s not even from here. Please-“ you nearly sobbed, and it was enough to make the man groan as he leaned over you.

“Oh… please what, doll face?” He murmured, hand that had just been wrapped around his dick sinking the mattress down beside your head.

“Please- please don’t stop.” You whimper softly and he smiles sweetly down at you while pulling his hand away anyways. It was just for a second, enough to make you want to cry, but then he was plunging them back into your fluttering hole again. He added a third finger, barely giving you even enough time to enjoy the first two, the stretch making your lips part a little.

“God, you’re desperate.” He snorted, his hand angling a bit differently to let his thumb catch your clit. He watched with pride as your head tilted back and your back arched. Your thighs kept twitching and your walls were clamping down around his fingers more and more—he could tell you were close.

“Eddie…” You drawled, breath catching as your body braced itself for the mind-altering pleasure of your orgasm, but just as you approached the top—he pulled his hand away. You let out a distressed cry that made him laugh. He cooed at you, his hand that had been pumping his cock moving to rest on your cheek. Knowing where it had been made it even better, made it filthier. It made you wonder how many times he had just touched his dick before touching you.

“That’s for letting some random loser fuck you.” He whispered after leaning down so close that his nose was occasionally brushing against yours.

“‘m sorry…” You whine, tears of pleasure and pain having already slid down from your eyes and back towards your ears—leaving your hair damp and cold.

“You’re sorry, what?” He urged, nudging his tip against your folds.

“I’m sorry I let someone else take my virginity.” You were a blubbering mess, teary-eyed and needy.

“You’re gonna make up for it, though, right?” He purred, his tip already pressing into you and you nodded enthusiastically with a cry, your hips twitching forward.

“That’s my girl.”

Your lips parted, your lower lip quivering when he pushed into you until his hips were flush with your ass. You let out a sort of choked whimper and he groaned.

“Fuck you’re tight…” He sighed with content, sliding back before sinking back in until his tip was kissing your cervix. “Not even a virgin and I’m still gonna have to work to split this cunt open, huh?”

He was grinning again over that, over the grip your walls had on him from such a foreign stretch. It ached in the best way possible except for the occasional thrust that pinched and made you yelp out a small “ow.”

“S-so big… you’re so big…” You babble, your mind fuzzy. Your pupils were all blown out and you watched him fuck into you like it was the best dream you ever had. You eventually tilt your head back, letting out a happy hum as your hips push outward to feel him as deeply and as harshly as possible. He mimicked the sounds you made and the expressions you made from his thick cock hitting all the right places and stretching you enough that you knew you were going to be sore. All day tomorrow you were going to get brief pangs of aching that would remind you of how full you were of Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. He was all you could focus on, and you didn’t even realize you had been whimpering his name over and over under your breath until he made fun of you for it.

“Fuck you.” You huffed defensively, only for his amusement to bolster.

“Ha!” He cackled right in your face as you looked up at him with glossy eyes, pink cheeks and pouty lips. “Already are, sweetheart.”

Soon enough your sounds annoyed him though, especially the more demanding they got. Harder. Faster. Slower. More. Please. So he flipped you over onto your stomach and had his hand on your head to press your cheek into the mattress as he mounted you again—all with a casual “God, just shut up.”

At this new angle he was driving into you with a force that reverberated throughout your whole body every time he slammed into your cervix or that gushy part of you. You felt dizzy and breathless, every stroke of his cock against your ridged walls shooting off sparks. After being so close just from his hand to now, you were steadily approaching an orgasm again—just praying he’d let you keep it this time. He must’ve noticed because his free hand was reaching down to rub your clit. Your eyelids fluttered, a sob being muffled by the comforter you were biting down on. The sound of skin smacking, the tired springs of your bed squeaking, Eddie’s panting and grunting, the chain of his wallet clinking every now and then, the wet and pornographic sound of his cock plunging in and out of your pussy—it all seemed so loud for a second and then felt muffled the next as you came undone around him. You moaned out his name, whimpering cries on the tail end. You could feel your walls fluttering around him, clamping down and then blossoming back open then clamping down again in a mind-swirling rhythm.

“That’s a good girl…” He purred in a way that might’ve been too sweet from him if it wasn’t laced with a condescending tone. “Gonna cum in you, ‘kay?”

“Uh-huh-“ You moan, body aching as he picks up the pace again, fingers tangled in your hair with a painful grip. You can’t see him, but his head is tilted back completely blissed out as he fucks into you. You felt amazing, even better than he imagined which was pretty damn astonishing considering the pedestal he already had your pussy on in his imagination. He was so close, and a brief thought of getting you pregnant nearly sent him over the edge. He was mean. So fucking mean. That was the most devious thing he could do. Fill you up and make you all round with his kid.

“Shit-“ He pants out. “Gonna fill you up, babe.”

“Please-“ You beg, pulling an incredulous chuckle from him.

“Such a good girl… always take everything I give her.” He breathes out, leaning down to trap your body between him and your bed, his hand moving your hair away from your face. “Takes everything I give her at school, and she’s gonna take everything I give her in her bed, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, please-“ You sob, gasping out with the next few sharp thrusts against you until there was this warm feeling blooming inside you as he groaned against your back. He gave a few more thrusts after cumming inside, letting out happy puffs of air. You remembered how content that guy was when he unloaded into his condom inside you in camp. That blissful look on his face before he pecked your lips then lied next to you. Eddie didn’t bother with a condom, didn’t press a little peck to your lips and he wasn’t so quick to pull out either. When you squirmed a little he shifted so he was pushed up deeper into you, pulling a gasp from you which made him smirk against your skin.

Eventually he leaned up to bite your shoulder and then he slid out of you. You were still a little out of it, purring out a whiny hum as you nuzzled your quilt. Your legs were still spread and slightly bent up while you laid there on your stomach, and as he adjusted his softening dick back into his boxers he saw his cum slowly started to seep out of you and onto your comforter. Ever the gentleman, once his pants were zipped back up and his belt was buckled he landed his palm on your ass cheek and turned you over as you huffed over the action.

“See you Monday.”

“But we… we have to…” You fought to find your words through the haze. Study. You had to study.

“Bye, doll face!” He called out as he made his way downstairs.

You pouted a little, wanting to beg him to come back and stay with you. Maybe even go another round, but you were so spent that you just laid there.

When you got your energy back enough to force you to get up, you went to pee and clean yourself up before heading downstairs. Unsure of what to do with yourself, you made your way over to your backpack and you spotted the writing on the time sheet. A smile tugged at your lips. Instead of the date he wrote his phone number, and for the synopsis of today’s tutoring session he wrote “sex ed” with a winky face, and then signed where he was supposed to.

God, you were so fucked. And you were going to need a new time sheet.

#eddie munson smut #mean!eddie munson #bully!eddie munson #perv!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things smut

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the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 1 year ago

Text

Bob Seger

Ship: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Is there a handbook for what to do when your crush walks into your store to buy a gift for his girlfriend? There should be!

Word Count: 5,432 words

Warnings: Stancy, Steve being deeply in love and then getting his heart broken, brief mention of Steve's asshole dad, pining reader, hurt/comfort, Tommy & Carol, language, innuendo

Note: Inspired in part by Steve's rendition of Old Time Rock & Roll.

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Nancy hadn't been herself, not since Barb disappeared, and her mood had only been getting worse every day. Steve could feel her retreating into herself, hiding from the world and from herself and from him. He could feel Tommy and Carol getting progressively more frustrated with her (and with him for putting up with it) with every passing day.

And it's not like Steve blamed Nancy. Her best friend had gone missing while Nancy hung out with people Barb wasn't the biggest fan of. And, to rub salt in an open wound, Nancy had been having sex with Steve while Barb disappeared.

Steve felt a little guilty, to say the least. He'd had the thought of If I hadn't wanted to sleep with Nancy so bad, she would have gone home with Barb and they'd both be safe. But after a while, he wasn't so sure about that. The longer he thought about it, the more he became convinced that if Nancy had gone with Barb, they both would have gone missing.

Whether it was through his own guilt or because he wanted to make Nancy feel better, he wasn't quite sure, Steve found himself driving to the record store just off Main Street after school got out. He'd blocked out the noise of Tommy and Carol bickering, Tommy in the passenger seat and Carol leaning forward from the back seat, too busy trying to remember which bands had played from the radio the night he was studying at Nancy's house, and whether or not Nancy had actually liked them. He didn't want to screw up his little surprise by getting her music she wouldn't listen to—or a vinyl she already owned. Maybe he should have discreetly snooped through her pile of records before he'd made up his mind to do this...

Tommy sharply elbowed Steve in the ribs. Before Steve could snap at him, he said, "You're overthinking this, man. She's either gonna pretend to love it and not actually care, or she's just gonna not care."

Behind them, Carol giggled. It sounded far more sinister than it should have.

Steve glared at him for a second before he made the turn into the store's parking lot. "You're no help, you realize that?" He parked the car and turned to the two of them. "You're gonna stay here and wait, got it? And don't do anything stupid, I'll make you clean the back seat this time."

Carol grinned. "What if it's the passenger seat?"

"Or the driver's," Tommy added, leaning back to kiss Carol, before Steve could snap that the passenger's seat was Nancy's seat. Steve felt his throat constrict.

"Do not get it on in my fucking car," he warned, "or I'm never driving you anywhere ever again."

He got out, slamming the door behind him, and sent a warning glare back over his shoulder. Tommy flipped him off through the windshield. Beside Steve, an elderly woman gasped in offense and Steve winced.

"Sorry about him," he muttered, but the woman was already scurrying off into her own vehicle. Steve sighed and pushed open the front door to the record shop.

A little bell above the door chimed once as he swung the door open, and then again as it closed behind him. Steve had only been in the store a handful of times, but he loved it more and more with every visit. The walls were plastered in old vinyls, displayed so that the name of each band was readable. No vinyl was the same color, some of them blue, some red, some multicolor, but all of them were different. A small gold plaque designated the oldest vinyl the store had on the walls, which was a reddish Vocalion from 1922 and was positioned directly above the door.

Rows and rows of alphabetized vinyls spread throughout the store, which was bigger than it looked from the storefront. In the lefthand corner nearest the door, a cashier's desk was set up, though there was no employee behind it. A plastic sign read I'm in the back! I'll be back soon!

Steve headed for the aisles of vinyls, then recognized what was playing over the speakers—Bob Seger's Night Moves.

Humming as he flipped through the stacks, Steve didn't notice the door to the back open, or you walk out of it and back to your desk.

"Mmm, sweet summertime, summertime," Steve sang, keeping his voice low, still embarrassed by his voice, an instinct his father made sure he would never shake.

But you heard it, even with the volume of the radio. You looked up from the desk, gaze scanning the rows. You spotted the back of Steve's head and recognized him immediately. That hair was unmistakable.

Heat burned in your belly. Suddenly, you really wished your coworker hadn't gone home just ten minutes earlier, complaining of nausea. If she'd just stuck around a few more minutes...you wouldn't have to face your long-time crush who was absolutely not available, happily dating Nancy Wheeler and unlikely to leave her any time soon.

You resisted the urge to hide your face in your hands. Sure, you'd liked him since middle school, long before he'd become part of the popular crowd and back when his hair was still a mess that hid his eyes from the world, and yes, you had two classes with him, but it's not like he'd know who you were, right? You'd keep relative anonymity and he would remain none the wiser of your long-standing admiration of him.

But then the song changed to The Fire Down Below and Steve was shimmying where he stood, singing the line "Here comes hot Nancy, she's steppin' right on time" with the hugest grin on his face.

You sighed. The school, your best friends, the entire senior year was right—Steve Harrington was down bad for Nancy Wheeler.

The tiniest bit of hope that he might one day notice you was dashed every time you heard that loving croon of his voice every time he sang Nancy's name.

This is why we don't get our hopes up, you told yourself, echoing a sentiment your best friend had drilled into you ever since Steve became the ladies' man that made him so popular in high school. Not that it erased the previous middle school years of drooling over Steve, back before anyone else had really considered him attractive.

You watched as Steve meticulously went through every record in the store, clearly searching for something specific. You normally would have gotten up and approached a customer taking this long, but it was Steve. You knew the instant you got up from your stool, your legs would give out underneath you. And if that didn't happen, you'd walk into a shelf on your way over to him. And if that didn't happen either, you'd start stuttering the moment you tried to talk to him. And if that didn't happen, you'd turn bright red and combust on the spot when he either asked for your help or turned you away.

Too stuck in your head, you didn't even realize the record had stopped playing until you heard Steve's singing stop. A pang went through you at the sound of silence—Steve's voice was almost more soothing than the music itself.

You turned around and dug through your pile of vinyls the store let you play until you found another Bob Seger—the album he'd released last year. Steve had been singing Bob Seger, and you desperately wanted him to keep singing.

You cleaned off the record before placing the needle down. A few bars into Even Now, you turned back around and squeaked, jumping in surprise.

Steve was standing at your desk, a pleasant but awkward smile on his face.

"Uh...hi," he said. "Sorry if I scared you."

You blinked at him and cleared your throat, hoping your voice didn't come out squeaky. "It's...it's fine. Can I help you with something?"

"Uh, please, I'm looking for—" He snapped his fingers. "You're in my chemistry class, aren't you?" You nodded, meekly adding that you were also in English together, and he beamed. "I knew I recognized you from somewhere!"

"Yeah, uh... Hi, Steve," you said. "You said you were looking for...?"

Steve shook himself out. "Oh, yeah, um... I'm trying to find a record for Nancy, my girlfriend, because I want to cheer her up after...everything. I'm sure you've heard about it."

The tiredness in his voice surprised you. But you nodded without bringing it up. "I have. How's she holding up?"

Steve sighed. "Not...fantastically. That's why I'm doing this, I want to get her something to take her mind off things."

You raised your brows. "So you decided on a record?"

Steve shrugged, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. "I thought it would be something we could dance to, and that that might make her feel better."

Your heart squeezed. How are you so sweet? "Alright, makes sense. What does she like to listen to usually?"

Steve shut his eyes as if thinking for a moment, then said, "She likes ABBA and Michael Jackson, she has a Fleetwood Mac tape but only ever listens to Rhiannon, but she sings under her breath every time Journey comes on the radio, doesn't matter what song it is. She's got Madonna, Bowie, Blondie, and The Beatles already as tapes and vinyls, so I don't want to get her those."

You blinked at him. "You really do pay attention to everything, don't you?"

Steve smiled shyly. "I...I guess so, when it comes to Nancy."

You left the back of the desk, hoping you weren't visibly shaking too much. "Let's go find you a Journey vinyl, okay? They just released a new album a few months ago, I'm pretty sure we've got it on vinyl..."

Steve followed you to the J section and the two of you started flipping through, both of you softly singing along to Love's The Last To Know as you did.

Halfway through the song and completely through the Js section, you interrupted the song with a gasp.

"I know where it is! Wait here," you told him, and hurried into the back room. You dug through the most recently delivered box of records until you saw the familiar blue album cover of Frontiers, letting out a victory cry as you grabbed it.

Steve was leaning on the shelf, still singing "We lost our way and our love's the last to know" so mournfully you wondered what heartbreak he'd been through before.

"I got it!" you said, grinning and holding the record aloft.

Steve beamed. "Thanks! I really appreciate it. I know I was kind of...out of my depth for a bit there."

You shrugged. "Eh, that's nothing. I've had people come in here demanding records we don't carry from bands that only just released music." You rolled your eyes. "'No, sir, we don't carry Metallica, and even if we did, the album came out last week, so we wouldn't have it yet anyway!'"

Steve snorted with laughter, handing you cash to pay for the vinyl. "Let me guess, it was the Munson kid."

"The Munson kid," you confirmed.

"Thanks again," Steve said, though he didn't seem inclined to head out the door.

"Any time," you said, instantly regretting the words because if you saw Steve at your workplace more than this, you were going to have a heart attack, but you paired the words with a kind smile anyway.

"See you in class tomorrow," he said, stepping out the door and waving goodbye. You watched him go, putting the record in the back seat, snapping at Tommy and Carol in his car, and pulling out of the parking lot.

You let go a tense, nervous breath. The pain in your chest eased. Well, at least Steve knew of you now. And even if his dedication to Nancy was unfailing, at least you might get to talk to him now, even if it only worsened the ache in your heart.

~❊~

Steve skipped third block.

The entire school seemed to be talking about why—or at least, his entire gym class, who had told a story about Billy Hargrove getting in his face the entire basketball game, and then Nancy dragging him out of the class to "talk" about something. At first, everyone had assumed they were banging in the locker rooms, until somebody reminded them Nancy hadn't been in first block, and she never skipped, and that Steve usually drove her to school—but he hadn't missed first block. Then when he'd come back, upset and angry, from his talk with Nancy, people started to put a story together.

You weren't sure you wanted to believe the story, or the many versions of the story, that were floating around you chemistry class. It didn't line up with what you knew of Steve, or what you knew of his relationship with Nancy, most of which you heard straight from him.

But then again...

You shook yourself out of your head, your gaze straying back toward Steve's empty seat. You sighed, pulling your notebook toward you and copying down the notes on the board as neat as you could—undoubtedly you'd need to give them to Steve when he decided to come back to class.

But when your best friend came into the class, handing your teacher a doctor's note, her wide eyes already told you Steve wasn't coming back today.

She sat down beside you, hissing your name. You looked at her. "What? What's wrong?"

"Is there a reason I just saw Steve Harrington crying in his car?" she whispered to you.

Your eyes went huge. Whatever had happened between him and Nancy, it wasn't good. "Keep your voice down and don't tell anyone else about that," you said.

She flipped her notebook to a blank page and started writing. "You better fill me in on everything I missed today," she said.

"Obviously, but only once I know exactly what happened," you said. "Which means only once Steve tells me what happened. However long that takes."

~❊~

It became painfully clear that Steve didn't want to talk—to anyone. He snapped at anyone who tried to bring it up with him, and his mood was waspish. The situation was made worse by the rumors spread by Tommy and Carol—that Nancy had only been with Steve for his money and the sex; that she left because Steve wasn't good enough for her; that she was cheating on him with Jonathan.

You knew that the jibes about Jonathan hit Steve a little too close to home. The same rumor had circulated last year when Will and Barb went missing, but this time, you were almost positive they were true.

Nancy was entirely unbothered by the whole thing. Seeing her prance around with Jonathan, not caring that doing so was hurting Steve more than anything, made your blood boil.

On your way to the record store for another one of your slow closing shifts, a week after Steve skipped chem class, you saw the two of them walking together along the sidewalk. You rolled your eyes at them. You had once thought Nancy to be the luckiest girl in the world: smart, pretty, and dating the hottest man Hawkins had to offer. Now you were certain she was the most careless, throwing it all away for a mediocre man.

Steve's car was in the store's parking lot when you arrived. You parked next to him, looking over to find him in the driver's seat, staring into his lap.

You got out and knocked on his window. "Steve? You okay?" He looked up, sporting red-rimmed eyes. You could hear Bob Seger's Comin' Home playing quietly on his radio. "Oh, Steve..."

Steve got out of his car. Voice quiet and rough, he asked, "Can I hang out for a while?"

"Yeah," you said. "Whatever you need."

His lip trembled. "A...a hug?" His voice as meek and barely there. But you heard it and the request made your heart break. You enveloped him in a tight hug, letting him soften into your hold. You remained that way until Steve decided he was done, not caring how many of your classmates walked by, staring in wonder at Steve clinging to you, new gossip already burning on their tongues.

~❊~

A good day meant boppier music at the record store as soon as you started your shift and shoved your coworker from the mid-afternoon shift out the door. So you swapped out all the mellow music in the stack of records beside your record player with music with a good beat that you could dance to while you restocked and reshelved.

Not even half an hour into your shift, the Naked Eyes record spun into Always Something There To Remind Me. You turned up the volume as high as you could without destroying the speakers and being chewed out by your managers, singing along and dancing by yourself while you worked.

"Well, how can I forget you, girl? When there is always something there to remind me!" You finished stacking your records in the aisle and turned back for a new pile. "Always something there to remind me. I was born to love her, and I'll never be free, you'll always be a part of— Steve!" You careened into his chest, grateful you weren't holding anything, because it all would have dropped to the floor. Steve's arms looped around you, stopping you from falling. "Don't sneak up on me, you scared me!"

"The doorbell rung!"

"Well, I didn't hear it!" You finally looked up at him, heart beating wildly out of your chest at the feeling of his chest against yours, his arms around your waist. You realized he looked downright miserable. "What happened?"

He sighed. "Remember how I said I was gonna try and patch things up with Nance?"

"Yeah..."

Steve's lower lip started to tremble. "It...it didn't go well."

Your heart dropped to your feet. "Oh, Steve, I'm...I'm so sorry."

He sniffled. "It's, uh, it's over. She...she doesn't love me, has never loved me, I'm still bullshit, and she's been sleeping with Jonathan. So..." He heaved a heavy sigh. "It's over. Completely, totally, officially over."

"Steve," you whispered. "I'm so sorry, honey. Is there anything I can do?"

He smiled, lips trembling and eyes watering. "Change the song?" The words came out with a little hiccup and a laugh.

You realized what the song was about. "Oh! Yeah, sure, right—sorry. It's such an upbeat song in the actual music, I didn't even think about the words!" You untangled yourself from his arms to change the record. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Nothing romantic, please," he said, sitting down on your stool. "And, after you're done..."

You looked at him, sensing his hesitation. "Yeah?"

"Can I have another hug?"

You smiled at him, looping your arms around his back where he sat. He fell into you, burying his head in your shirt. "Of course, Steve."

You held onto Steve as tightly as he held onto you, praying he wouldn't notice the fast beat of your heart while he wallowed in his grief. It was a strange feeling, for Steve to be hiding from the world, form Nancy, from his broken heart in your arms, all while you harbored a horribly deep crush on him and a secret, guilty delight that it was over with Nancy.

"I just..." Steve huffed, clearly trying his best not to sob into your shirt. "I don't know where I went wrong. I don't know why I wasn't good enough."

Without really meaning to, you put your hand in Steve's hair. "Does there need to be a reason? Some people just aren't meant for each other, Steve."

Steve looked up at you with his red rimmed eyes, tears on his lash line. He hesitated a moment and then said, "If I tell you something...promise me you won't just...laugh at me."

Your heart broke for him. How many times had he told Tommy or Carol or, what the hell, even Nancy something, only to be laughed at, for him to ask that of you? "Of course I won't laugh at you, Steve." You squeezed his shoulder. "Why would I laugh at you?"

He didn't answer your question. "I know it sounds...ridiculous, but...I just—" He sighed. "I thought Nancy was the one. I've never been happier with a girl before, and she was honest, she was smart, she was determined, she had goals, she was nothing like the girls I was with before, and she made me feel alive! I thought for sure that I was... That I was maybe gonna spend the rest of my life with her."

You bit your lip. "There was no maybe about it, was there, Steve?"

He sighed, letting his head fall back into you. You muffled your grunt as he hid his face in your stomach, his arms sliding up your back and hold you closer to him. "No," he mumbled into the fabric of your shirt.

You smoothed your hand through his perfect hair and kissed the top of his head. You froze, hearing his tiny intake of breath. "Oh, I'm...I'm sorry, that was kind of...automatic, I guess?"

Steve peeked up at you and tugged you closer to his body until your feet hit the legs of your stool he was perched on. "It's okay. Um... Can you...keep doing that? With my hair?" Pink tinged his skin. "If you don't mind."

"I don't mind," you whispered, rubbing your fingers across his scalp. He sighed, pushing into your touch. Heat bloomed across your body.

"Sorry," he whispered. "I know this is...weird. But, um, Nancy never... Never really touched me or— Or held me or anything, so..."

"You don't have to explain yourself," you whispered. "Not to me, not to anyone. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, slowly relaxing in your arms.

"I've got you, Steve," you assured him. "I've got you."

~❊~

Before he'd even pulled into the parking lot, Steve was mentally apologizing to you. You'd told him time and time again when he visited you while you were working that you enjoyed your slow closing shifts. It meant there was no one to bother you while you were in the middle of a restock, making you forget where you were; it meant there was no one to complain about the music you played, so you could listen to whatever you wanted; it meant your final hour was spent just closing up shop instead of shooing customers out the door—except for Steve, who had become a regular and always stayed until you left, sometimes to give you a ride home and other times just to have a friend around.

But today, he wasn't coming alone. His car was full to bursting with young children: Dustin, Max, Lucas, Mike, and Will, all of whom he'd been tasked with picking up from their after school activities for the day. He had tried to get them to go home quickly, but his attempts to rush them out of his car had led them to discover that he was seeing a girl, which they all took the wrong way, of course.

Sort of.

Now that Steve was prowling the world alone again, he'd realized his initial estimation of you—pretty, smiley, shy with new people but confident with your friends—was right, but it was a muted reality compared to how you really were. It was like he'd been looking at you with sunglasses covering his eyes this whole time. Now that those glasses were gone, the record shop girl had become more than just his best friend.

And he was really hoping the kids were not about to point that out.

As per usual, you were playing Bob Seger when Steve pushed the door open. He'd yet to figure out if you played Bob Seger so much when he came to visit because you loved Bob Seger, or if you had (correctly) pinned Steve as a fan.

(Not that Steve had ever told anyone he was a fan; he let them think the only reason he even knew about his music was because of Carol's obsession with Risky Business.)

You weren't at your desk like Steve had expected; you were carrying a huge stack of records in your arms, shelving them as you walked along the rows, singing along to Sunspot Baby without a care in the world.

"Sunspot baby," you sang. "She sure had a real good time."

"I looked in Miami, I looked in Negril," Steve joined in. You turned with a grin, heading back to your desk. "The closest I came was a month old bill."

You noticed the kids as you put down your stack. "You brought company today, I see."

Steve gave you a look while the kids were still behind him. You stifled a giggle. "Uh, yeah, these are the kids. Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Max Mayfield, Will Byers, and Mike Wheeler."

Dustin walked straight up to your desk. "So you're the girl Steve talks about all the time?"

"All the time, huh?" you said, smiling in a way that suggested you were sure Dustin was exaggerating.

"Every time we see him," Mike groaned. You stared at the younger Wheeler in surprise.

"Oh, really? Is that so, Steve?" you teased.

He rolled his eyes, unable to stop his blush. "Sorry to interrupt your quiet shift. They wanted to stop in and grab some records."

"No we didn't—we just wanted to meet you," Lucas said. Steve's calm expression became painfully forced.

The young redhead snorted. "Speak for yourself." She looked up at you expectantly. "Do you have any David Bowie?"

You grinned. "I like you, you have good taste. Back side of the first row."

Max grinned and dragged Lucas with her.

You looked back at Steve. "Do you have enough room in your car for one more?"

"Need a ride when you leave?"

You nodded.

"Yeah, I've got room. I'll just make the kids rearrange."

You laughed. "You don't have to do that," you insisted.

Steve leaned across the counter. "Don't worry about it—I want to. I'd feel terrible if I left you to get home on your own."

You smiled at him, noticing Dustin nudging Mike and Will and pointing in your direction out of the corner of your eye.

~❊~

Somehow, the kids' presence lightened up the rest of your shift. Time passed quickly with them there, adventuring through the store and asking you question after question about the vinyls lining the walls.

You waved off Steve as he tried to get the kids to leave you alone. "They're fine, Steve. It's okay. You wanna help me get everything packed up? I've gotta lock up soon."

"Oh, yeah, sure." Steve took the vinyl off the record player and slipped it back into its case. He glanced over his shoulder and called to the kids, "Hey, guys! We're gonna head out soon."

You ran through your closing tasks as quickly as you could, anxious to head home for the night.

"Alright, everybody out. Got everything?" you asked, ushering the kids to the door and taking out the key. You set the alarm system for the building and locked the door behind you.

Steve put a hand on your back. Warmth bloomed through you from where he touched you. "You're all ready to go?"

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

The kids opened the doors of Steve's car, jumping in quickly. Dustin made his way to the passenger's seat. Steve stopped him, gently shoving him toward the back seat with everyone else.

"Hey—move it, Henderson, she's got the passenger's seat."

You stared at Steve. "No, no, it's okay, he can—"

Steve shook his head, holding open the door for you. "Come on, it's fine, just..." He gestured into the car. The kids whispered and giggled at him. He sent them a glare and Dustin's annoyed face shifted into a gleeful smirk.

You got in the front seat, unaware of the glances being exchanged in the back or the glare Steve was giving them.

"Seat belts!" Steve said as he got into the driver's seat. You giggled at him as the kids groaned. You caught the way his face lit up when he looked at you, and butterflies tickled your insides.

Once the kids had listened and all were buckled, Steve pulled out of the parking lot and started his way through Hawkins, dropping them off one-by-one: Will first, on the outskirts of town, his mother waiting at the door; Max, who was relieved the Camaro wasn't in the driveway; Dustin next, his new cat sitting on the front step; Lucas, who was immediately met with his snarky young sister; Mike last, Nancy already at the door—saying goodbye to Jonathan.

You glanced at Steve. "You alright?"

Steve looked at you, releasing a deep sigh. "I'm okay," he said. "I...I'm doing better now."

"Good," you said. "You deserve it."

Steve gave you a curious look before he said, "Let's get you home, right?"

"Right."

And if Steve drove slower the whole way back to yours compared to driving the kids home, you weren't going to say anything.

When he got back to your house, Steve pulled into the driveway and sighed. "Well. Home sweet home," he said.

You looked at Steve with a smile. "Thanks for the ride home." You picked up the bag you had put on the ground. You got out, then stopped yourself before you could close the door. You crouched to look at him in the car. "Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?" Was it just your imagination, or did he sound nervous?

You took a deep breath. Now or never.

"I talk about you all the time, too."

For a moment, Steve processed your words. Then his eyes went wide. Hope bloomed on his slack-jawed face. "You..." He bit his lip, holding back a smile. "You mean that you..."

"Yes, Steve," you said, voice quiet. "Always have. Just ask my friends—they'll give away my secrets just as quickly as Dustin gave away yours." You drummed your fingers against the roof of his car. "Do with that what you will. It's up to you if...you want to even acknowledge it or not." You closed his door and started for your front door.

A door squeaked and then slammed shut moments later; running steps approached you.

"Wait!"

You turned as Steve's hand fell on your shoulder, pulling you close to him. He yanked your body close to his, his arms sliding around you, his hands gripping your shoulder blades. For a split second, you reveled in his hug, noticing the difference in it, relishing in the love in his arms instead of the misery.

Those few seconds became nothing as Steve pulled back. You gave a sound of protest, quickly squashed by Steve's lips.

Your heart had stopped beating, but was simultaneously pounding. You moved on instinct, looping your arms around his shoulders, yanking him down to you. Never once did your lips part from his as the two of you grappled to hold each other in the best way possible.

Thunder boomed overhead. You gasped, pulling apart.

"Was it supposed to storm?" you asked.

"I didn't think so," Steve said.

You kissed him again. Steve smiled into the kiss.

"You should get home before it pours," you whispered against his lips. But neither of you made any move to let go of each other.

Steve adjusted so that his head was against yours, his mouth at your temple. "See you tomorrow in class, then?"

You hummed. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

Steve pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I don't wanna leave."

You looked up at the sky, watching the already-grey skies grow darker as storm clouds rolled in. "We're going to get soaked if we stay out here, Steve."

Steve squeezed you tightly. "Tomorrow, then." He kissed your forehead again. "I'll see you tomorrow...sweetheart."

You beamed at the nickname while Steve blushed while he gave you the moniker.

"And to think," you whispered. "You'd known me all this time, but this? This happened all because you stopped in my store one day."

Steve hugged you tight to his chest. "I wish I'd noticed you before, sweetheart, really I do."

You kissed him. "Well, you've noticed me now." Light rain started, dusting Steve's hair until it sparkled. "Now go, before that pretty hair of yours gets ruined."

He grinned, brushing his hand through it. "I knew you liked my hair."

"Always have." You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Always will."

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Steve Harrington

part 2? lmk!

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the S.H. taglist!} @ohatropa@nix-rose@live-the-fangirl-life

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xsolaresx · 5 months ago

Text

daryl dixon.: love goes through the fire

pairings: daryl dixon x fem! reader wife!

summary: after being kidnapped and tortured by Negan, the reader does everything she can to make Daryl feel better.

warnings: angst! sad! graphic description of Glenn and Abraham's death! mention of torture! only depression from here on!

word count: 3,9k

Author @xsolaresx

notes: English is not my first language, so there may be some grammatical errors.

The noise still bothered me every night. Whenever my eyes closed, even for just a second, the sound of the bat repeatedly hitting Abraham's skull and then Glenn's tormented me.

One hit after another, and at the end Negan's diabolical laughter.

I could still feel Glenn's blood dripping down to my knees, I was so close to him that after it was over I was covered in his blood and the scraps of skin that flew off. No matter how many baths I forced myself to take, that sticky feeling of fresh blood never left my skin. And sometimes I still found a patch of my skin with a crimson tinge impregnated in it.

My dark circles told anyone who saw me that I hadn't slept for days. I kept reliving the moment like an endless loop in my head. I still remember how that day began, that week, that month, how the whole situation ended the way it did.

Hilltop had enemies, and Alexandria needed food. One thing led to another.

First the massacre at the outpost, then the kidnapping of Carol and Maggie. Everyone had questions about whether it was the right thing to do, whether killing so many people was worth it, whether it was worth seeing another sunrise under so much blood.

But Carol felt more, the deaths she had caused were beyond counting on her hands. We all kill to survive, but she was molded in this world, she wasn't raised with Rick's hero instinct, or the strength that the trauma and torture that Daryl suffered at the hands of his father and brother did to him. It was too much for her, she couldn't look us in the eye anymore, so she ran away from everything and everyone.

There was no concrete reason for so many deaths, they were evil, weren't they? They killed people, and they die at the hands of our people. We did what had to be done. We saved a community from the so-called Saviors, but it couldn't have been that easy, there were more of them, there always would be.

Daryl had to see it first hand. Denise died in front of him by her crossbow. It made him furious, we saved Dwight in the burning bush, helped him and his wife only for him to do something terrible in the end. Daryl had shown them a way, but they couldn't believe that was salvation.

He had to go back there, he had to finish what he didn't finish. He thought it was his fault that Tara no longer had a girlfriend. If only I could have stopped him before...

Everything happened so fast, Maggie got sick, we had to get her to Hilltop. I thought I'd meet Daryl at night, in our room, I'd arrive and he'd be waiting for me, he'd apologize for leaving unannounced, we'd talk and make things right, and then we'd sleep together and have a new day.

But that day never came.

They surrounded us on the road, left us with no way out and took us exactly where they wanted us. The frightening whistles were the prelude to something much worse to come. After that I only remember seeing Daryl shot and bleeding being dragged to the wheel, Abraham offering himself up and dying by the bat.

Little by little I saw the terror forming in Rick's eyes. In all the years I've been with him leading this group, this was the first time I'd seen the elder Grimes lost, with no way out and praying that this madman wouldn't take someone else from our family.

But Dixon got angry, he tried to get to Negan. And the next thing I knew, the bat with the barbed wire was next to my face. Daryl screamed so much, screamed, cried.

"It's all right, my love. I love you, it wasn't your fault” I could only look at him, knowing that he would be the last thing I saw before I left calmed me down.

Negan started smiling and swinging his baseball bat between the two of us. "What the fuck! Let's see what we've got here, guys."

“P-please... no-no”

“You'd better shut the fuck up, Rick! Or your dear son's next.” Negan shouted when Grimes tried to intervene, he knew that if I died Daryl would never be the same. "So you're a couple? Dwight's best friend has a wife? hohoho this just gets more interesting!"

“If you lay a finger on her I'll kill you, you bastard!” Daryl wasn't the type to take a beating quietly, even though he was losing blood and had a gun to his head he was going to try and fight back.

“Ah, but I'll remember that very well, dear Daryl... You know what... I'm tired of all this, why don't we just get it over with, huh?” The next thing I saw was blood gushing everywhere. One second I had Glenn, my best friend, the person who had saved me in so many ways by my side, and the next I had a lifeless body.

Daryl was taken away that night, as a guarantee that we would stay on the line. And only God knows what happened to him during those days.

I couldn't bear to see him so bruised and dirty the first time the Saviors came to Alexandria. That wasn't my Daryl anymore, he looked so fragile, wounded, defeated. He was no longer the survivor who could take it all.

“No! He's my servant now, you don't talk to him, you don't look at him, and I don't make you cut off any part of his body.” Negan shouted when Rick tried to talk to Dixon. “And that goes for everyone, even his wife, understand?” I couldn't walk away, I needed to hug Daryl, tell him that everything was going to be okay and that I was there, but I couldn't risk someone else in our family, so I just turned and walked to our house, mine and Daryl's, unable to hold back the tears any longer. The last thing I heard was Negan's shrill laughter. “That one knows how to take orders, Rick!”

A few days had passed since then, we hadn't heard from Daryl, Maggie was hiding in Hilltop, which was under threat from the Saviors. Rick went out every day in search of supplies for the Saviors, and I... couldn't leave the house. I couldn't leave the room, the bed where I could still smell Daryl.

Frantic knocks started at my door, and when I opened it, I saw Gabriel. "He's back, Y/N. He hasn't done anything yet, but he's back with Carl, they're at Rick's now and he's not back from his run with Aaron yet. I-I don't, we don't know what to do, Judith is there with them and..."

"Gabriel, breathe. It's okay.” I held the priest by the shoulders, trying to calm him down. Everyone was lost, scared. “Tell everyone to stay in their homes, they mustn't have come for anything else, so don't provoke them, okay?”

“But Judith... I... I promised Rick I'd look after her...”

“I'll go, okay?” I grabbed my sweater and left the house in the direction of Rick's. If Carl is back with Negan, it means that the boy went after him planning some revenge. He's so young, but he harbors so much anger, he's lost so much to this world.

“Hold it right there, cutie,” one of Negan's henchmen stopped me on the front steps of the house.

“I want to talk to him.”

“You can let her through, let's hear what the wife has to say” I stared at the man until he got out of my way. I was angry, the way he called me 'wife' only reminded me that every day Daryl was in prison, being tortured by him. “Hello, my dear, to what do I owe your presence in my humble abode?” Negan was sitting on the balcony with Judith on his lap asleep, Carl was next to him without the bandage on his eye with a sad and angry expression. I completely ignored the killer and turned to the boy.

“Are you all right, Carl?”

“Yeah. I'm fine, he didn't do anything,” he replied, lowering his head. I turned to Negan, who didn't look the least bit happy at being ignored.

“I want to see him.”

“You're going to have to be more specific, sweetheart.”

"I want to see my husband, see if he's alive. You can search me, I don't have any weapons after you took them all. Take me with you to him." A devilish smile appeared on his face.

“You know, I can see that you don't look so good after I took your man, but I don't know if I was very clear when I said that he's now my servant, maybe you won't like what you see, your husband isn't the most sociable.”

"I know he's not, but I've seen worse. I need to see him alive, it's okay if he's dirty."

"Ah girl, you're a tough nut to crack. But I understand, I can't go too many days without seeing my wives, Carl here has met some of them and he can tell you how hot they are! Tell you what, I'll talk to Rick, we'll settle up and if I'm still in a good mood you can come with me."

“Thanks”

“Oh how I like that word, thank you.” Then Spencer arrived, started his plan to take Rick out and ended up dying. Eugene was going to be taken away for making the bullet.

“You're gonna take me, right?” I shouted as Negan neared the gate, about to leave.

"Y/N... what? No." Rick tried to approach but I moved away, I needed to see Daryl.

“I almost forgot the wife, search her, you're coming with me in the truck”

I kept quiet the whole way, blindfolded, the truck had three seats, the driver was some kind of savior who kept quiet and Negan made me stay in the middle of them in case I decided to jump out during the journey.

“I told them to give your husband a bath, you know, to make him look more presentable, but no intimate visits, I don't want him to get too comfortable with all this” Negan said when we stopped in front of a room. “I also took him out of his cell, that's no place for a lady like you, my love”. When the door opened I saw Daryl in the corner of the room, a little cleaner, but cowering in the dark with an angry look on his face, but when he saw me he turned away from the wall in anguish. Dwight was in the other corner, standing guard. “I thought you guys would be more comfortable with an acquaintance on guard.”

“Not the best, but thanks,” I said between my teeth, looking at Dwight, who couldn't take his eyes off Daryl.

"What the fuck, baby! If you thank me one more time I won't be able to let you go, you've become my favorite." Then he left, closing the door. I ran over to Dixon, throwing myself into his arms, but he didn't return the hug, still focused on the other man in the room.

"No, no, please, look at me, darling. Don't focus on him, focus on me, please.” I ran my hands over his face and turned him towards me, tears starting to well up in my eyes when I saw the bandage on his shoulder where he had been shot. “I missed you so much, are you okay?”

“I don't think he's going to say much, he probably doesn't even remember how he does it, does he Daryl?”

"Shut the fuck up Dwight! If you don't I'll come over there and smash your face in” I turned to him who just laughed weakly and left the room.

“You have to get out of here, you can't stay, I can't protect you... them... them” his voice was broken, as if he hadn't spoken for days.

“Shiii, it's okay, I just came to see you, he's taking me back, we made a deal... What did they do to you, darling?”

“It was my fault”

"What? No, it wasn't, everything's fine at home, everyone's fine” He pulled my hand away from his face, moving away from me.

“It was my fault, Glenn, then Maggie, she died because of me”

“My goodness, no” I moved closer to him so that no one would hear. "Maggie's fine, the baby's fine, we did it so he wouldn't get suspicious. Everyone's fine” Daryl pulled me into a long-suffering kiss and began to cry, grabbing me in a hug, I sat on the floor with him still clinging to me. Dixon looked so broken, he wasn't the same strong guy who did everything for Rick. We stayed like that for a few hours, I ran my fingers through his hair to calm him down, he didn't sleep, he was on the lookout for any threat, but he closed his eyes, enjoying the affection. Until our bubble burst when someone opened the door. Daryl got up at a speed I didn't think he could manage, weakened like that, and promptly stood in front of me, protecting me from whoever came in.

"Visiting hours are over, honey. I hope you didn't take your clothes off after Dwight left." Negan entered the room with a smug smile, covering his eyes with his bat.

“I'm very well dressed, much to your displeasure,” I said, getting up and standing next to Daryl, who promptly grabbed my hand. "I have to get back, but nobody's forgotten you here, okay? We'll get you out of this, sweetheart."

“I wouldn't be so sure, but now Laura will take you back, and I hope your puppy behaves better after the visit.” Negan left and a blonde woman came in, waving us out.

I hugged Daryl one last time, kissing his forehead and left the room.

The days passed more melancholy and with preparations for the war against the Saviors approaching. Rick got help from the people at the Dump. We were on our way to Hilltop to talk to Maggie and get her support.

But when the gates opened, my vision blurred with tears... Daryl was there, a little shy, but waiting for us halfway.

I threw my backpack on the floor and ran as fast as I could to him, his arms already open waiting for me, and he kissed me with such urgency that I lost my breath. We stayed like that for a few minutes, crying and hugging, until Rick approached us in silence, his smile unmistakable.

I broke away from Dixon, making room for Rick and the others to hug him. Joyful laughter with tears coming out of me.

_______________________________

“We can't try anything without Hilltop's weapons, we have a lot of personnel, but it's still too little, and we're vulnerable that way.” Maggie said after we left Gregory's room, the asshole would rather spend his whole life under threat than fight back.

“She's right, but maybe I know someone who'd be interested in helping... they call themselves The Kingdom.” Jesus intervenes, from the corner of the room, where we're hugging, Daryl squeezes my hand with an air of hope and I can't help but smile at him with confidence too.

“Do you think they'd be allies in the war?” Rick asks, shifting in his seat. The situation isn't the best, I realize that now. I was so numb from missing Daryl that I didn't focus on protecting the community, and Rick had to handle it alone.

“They also suffer threats from the Saviors, but the community doesn't know about it, only the leader and people they trust.”

“He doesn't want to create panic or riots for no reason,” I say and everyone agrees. “So, what are we waiting for?” With a nod from Rick, everyone leaves the mansion and heads for their cars. The whole time Daryl didn't let go of my hand and I didn't make a point of complaining, he wasn't one to show much affection in the midst of so many people, but after everything that happened to him, I understand.

The Kingdom was very large, with many warriors training and many families, protected and happy. I squeeze Dixon's hand tighter when I see a couple with a newborn baby surrounded by elderly women. He stares at the couple and lowers his head.

When we enter the auditorium, the first thing that catches our eye is the huge tigress sitting next to a guy on a kind of throne. Rick shies away from approaching her, but they talk normally. Until Morgan appears, and Daryl asks me quietly where Carol is. “It's a delicate subject, but if Morgan's here she must be all right, you know she's tough.” He nods, even though his curiosity isn't quenched, he knows it's not time.

The King didn't accept our proposal, but gave Daryl the freedom to take refuge in the Kingdom for as long as he needed.

“We need to go Y/N, they can go into Alexandria after Daryl.” Rick appeared next to us as I was saying goodbye to Dixon, I nodded and he walked away.

“It's temporary, when this is over you're not leaving my side anymore, okay?” I held Daryl's cheeks and he bowed his head sadly.

“I want to go with you, I want to help put an end to this”

"You'll help, my love. Staying here, safe. Maybe you can convince the King, we need him."

“You know I'm not that diplomatic”

“Let's look at this situation as an opportunity, what do you think?” I smile to break the mood, Daryl gives a sad smile. “I'll never leave you, my love” I say more seriously so that he feels the truth, these days away from him were the worst and I don't want it to happen again.

_______________________________

“Look, look, look, Rick Grimes has come to greet me on my doorstep!” Negan and his henchmen arrived shortly after we got back from the Kingdom, someone up there is surely on our side. "I love seeing your abandoned dog face, Rick, but today my business is with your little friend's wife. Why don't you bring her to me?"

Rick nods begrudgingly, turns and starts walking towards the main house where we were all gathered, waiting for some sign of Grimes.

“He wants to talk to you.” Rick approaches and says quietly. “Be careful, he's unpredictable.”

"That's all right, Rick. I'll put him in his place, I've had enough of this.” I walk away quickly, anger overflowing just knowing that because of him my Daryl is shaken.

“Y/N, no, wait.” Rick tries to stop me, but it's too late, I'm striding hard towards Negan.

“I hear you want to talk to me.” That maniac's smile only gets wider when he sees me.

"Oh, hello, darling. How are you? Miss your husband?"

“You've got to be kidding... of course I miss him, if you don't remember you took him away from me and I'm very possessive of what's mine,” I say through my teeth. If he thinks I'm going to be compassionate and keep my mouth shut, he's mistaken.

"Wow, that's what I like about you, darling. You're tough as nails,” he says with a mischievous laugh. "The problem is that your husband was very moved by your visit, you know? And he must have thought it was a loophole for an escape."

“Wait, what?” I say exasperated, I've always loved acting. “You mean you've lost my husband?”

“I thought you could help me find him.”

“You're unbelievable...” I whisper indignantly. “If you think he's here you can look, have your goons search every house, every manhole or cupboard in this place.”

“You're always a refreshment to me, darling, you always know what I want.” I roll my eyes as he sends his men to search Alexandria.

As expected, they find nothing and leave, promising to return next week to collect supplies.

“I have to go, Rick,” I warn Grimes. To avoid the risk of them following me, I waited a few hours after they left, and night came. I need to see Daryl, he won't stay another night thinking we've abandoned him. He gets up from the rocking chair on the porch of his house with Judith on his lap and approaches.

“Okay, but be careful, make sure no one's following you.” Rick hugs me in his fatherly way. We were always close like brothers, after I lost everything Rick was there as a leader for everyone. “And send him a hug, tell him we miss him.”

“I will.” I say goodbye to him and kiss the head of a sleepy Judith, who gives me a smile. I grab a car and head out through the cellars of Alexandria, towards the Kingdom, towards Daryl.

_______________________________

“She's magnificent” Daryl was standing next to Shiva's cage when I arrived at the Kingdom. Quiet and shrunken, just stroking the snout of the tigress who melted at his touch.

“She is.” he confirms with a frown. I moved closer until I could see tears forming in his eyes. I quickly bent down, sat next to him and hugged him tightly, which he reciprocated.

"It's all right now, my love. I'm here, you're not going to stay away from me any longer.” I tried to calm his crying, which was only getting more intense. I've never seen Daryl so broken, he seemed to be accumulating all the suffering, the pain, waiting to fall apart on me. He would never do that to anyone else.

“I got scared.” Daryl says after he calms down. “I was afraid of losing you too, losing our family.”

“You're not going to lose me, ever.”

“But what if it does?” Daryl lifts his head with a more serious look. "When they tortured me, all I could think about was you, that you'd be alone out here, unprotected. They could do anything to you to make me accept the fact that I was nothing in that place. And I felt like nothing."

“No, no, no.” I pull Daryl's face so that he pays close attention to me. “You're not going to lose me, you know why? Because your wife is strong, she'll go through hell to pull you out of the fire and when I can't do it anymore I'll have our whole family helping me, because I love you, Daryl, we love you. That's what love does, it turns us into fighters, people who would do anything for the one they love. I love you, Daryl.” Tears flowed non-stop from my eyes and Daryl's.

“I love you, Y/N” His lips met mine fervently, it was a needy kiss, as if he had been thirsty for days and I was his oasis in the desert. I gave myself completely to him, wanting more and more all the time.

We were too wrapped up in our bubble, completely forgetting that Shiva was still in the cage next door, and an imposing roar from her broke us out of this bubble of lust.

“I don't think she likes not being the center of attention,” we laughed when we noticed the tigress's angry face at being left out.

“She'll have to accept it, because now my only attention is on my wife.”

#daryldixon #daryl #dixon #thewalkingdead #twd #rickgrimes #michonne #the ones who lives #amc #tv shows #daryl dixon x reader #fanfic #daryl dixon x reader wife #fem reader wife

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liyliths · 26 days ago

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౨ৎ ⋆ ｡˚ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐓𝐔𝐁

summary: you're on a wild goose chase for some kids, including one with apparent superpowers, who could've guessed? steve is also realizing he has some shit he needs to fix, and his friends really suck. then, you wind up at hawkins middle school to make a fancy bath for a kid with telekinetic powers. here's to hoping she finds will and barb safe and sound!

Steve’s grip tightened around the Coke can, his voice dropping into a dangerous tone. “I should’ve shoved that spray paint right down your throat.” Tommy’s jaw clenched at that, his expression hardening as he stepped forward, closing the gap between them. Carol scoffed, tossing her head in disbelief. “What the hell, Steve?” Steve’s eyes flicked between the two of them, his patience rapidly wearing thin. “You know, neither of you ever gave a damn about Nancy. Not even Y/N. You didn’t like them, because they’re not miserable like the two of you.” His voice was sharp, filled with bitterness as Tommy and Carol exchanged a glance, acting as if Steve were the crazy one here.

pairings: steve harrington x reader

warnings: mentions of a fight, bruises and blood, steve's idiot friends, (again, i know, i'm tired of them too) and cursing

word count: 7k

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Joyce's vehicle glided down the streets of Hawkins, bathed in the late afternoon golden glow. Hopper sat behind the wheel, his eyes focused on the road, while the golden light filtered through the trees. The vibrant fall leaves swirled around as the vehicle moved, painting the forest in hues of orange and yellow.

Inside the car, the group sat in tense silence, the weight of their mission heavy in the air. Joyce sat with a furrowed brow in the passenger seat, her fingers tapping anxiously against her thigh. Hopper's gaze was fixed ahead, his expression determined as he guided the car towards the Wheeler's house in an attempt to find Mike and his friends—along with the girl who has ‘superpowers.’

The teenagers sat in the back—Y/N fidgeted with her hands nervously, her eyes gazing out the car’s window as the vehicle’s engine hummed. Her friends, Nancy and Jonathan, exchanged worried glances, their faces etched with concern.

“Do you really think Mike is home?” Hopper broke the tense silence, his voice low, glancing in the rearview mirror at Nancy.

“I—I don’t know.” Nancy’s words were barely a whisper, her uncertainty clear as she fidgeted with her hands.

Hopper’s expression hardened. “Well, wherever your brother and his friends are, that girl is with them. And she might be able to help us find Will and Barb.” He hesitated, his tone softening. “This is gonna be hard to hear, but that body they buried for Will—it was fake. He’s alive, somewhere out there, and we’re going to find him.”

Nancy’s breath hitched. Her wide eyes met Y/N and Jonathan’s, the teenagers struck by disbelief. They were right after all…

As they neared their destination, turning on Maple Street, Hopper slowed the vehicle to a stop a distance away from the Wheeler’s house, the engine humming softly as it idled. The group examined the state of the house—government vehicles swarmed the driveway and street, with agents walking in and out of the house.

Nancy’s panic rose instantly, her heart pounding as she took in the sight. “Oh my god…” she breathed, her hands trembling. Without thinking, she threw the door open and scrambled out, with Hopper following close behind. Jonathan and Y/N exchanged a worried look before following their lead.

Hopper pulled out a pair of binoculars, peering at the agents as they moved in and out of the house. “Hold on, kid,” he muttered, but Nancy’s desperation broke through.

“I have to go home,” Nancy’s voice cracked, her face tight with concern.

“No, you don’t.” Hopper simply stated, focused on the sight in his binoculars.

“My mom and dad are in there!” Nancy’s voice shot up, frantic now, her eyes wide with fear. Her hands shook as she gestured toward her house, her breath quickening.

“They’ll be okay.” Hopper sighed, putting his binoculars down, only to be met with the sight of Nancy storming off toward her house, while Jonathan and Y/N glanced at each other, giving a small, unsure shrug.

Hopper was on the girl in seconds, grabbing her arm. “Let go!” Nancy screamed, struggling against his grip as she tried to yank away, desperate to free herself.

“Hey, hey, hey! Listen to me—just listen to me.” Hopper held the girl’s shoulders, his eyes locking with her blue ones in an attempt to get through her. “The last thing in the world we need right now is them knowing you’re mixed up in all of this,” He explained, gesturing toward the government vehicles with his binoculars in hand.

“Mike is over there! My brother is in there!” Nancy shook her head, her breathing ragged.

“No, he’s not. They haven’t found him,” Hopper insisted, his voice firm. He pointed toward the helicopters hovering in the distance, blades slicing through the air, suggesting they were searching for something—someone.

“For Mike?!” Nancy’s voice screeched, her voice breaking in disbelief. The thought of those helicopters hunting her little brother… it wasn’t real.

Hopper drug the girl back into the vehicle with the others following, the car doors slamming shut. But the tension was thick, the air becoming hard to breathe. Nancy sat between Y/N and Jonathan, her breath coming in heavy as her friends looked at her with concern. “Look, you gotta trust me on this, alright?” Hopper turned in his seat, glancing at Nancy. Joyce followed suit, both of them looking back at the teenagers. “We need to find them before they do, any idea where Mike and his friends might go?”

Nancy clenched her fists in frustration, her face tight with anxiety. “No, I don’t know!” she snapped, her voice cracking as it rose, filling the cramped car. Y/N winced at the outburst, her shoulders tensing under the weight of Nancy’s panic.

“You need to think.” Hopper’s voice was frustrated, watching the girl shake her head in complete disbelief.

Nancy’s thoughts spiraled. How had she missed the signs? Her brother and his friends had been acting strange for a while now—secretive, whispering, slipping away—but she’d been too overwhelmed with everything else, too distracted to see what was right in front of her.

“I don’t know!” Nancy shook her head, throwing her hands up in defeat. “We haven’t talked much lately.” Her voice wavered, regret pooling in her chest as her eyes darted toward her house overflowing with government agents.

Joyce leaned forward, her voice softer but no less urgent, eyes scanning the teens. “Is there any place your parents don’t know about? Somewhere he might feel safe?”

Nancy hesitated, her mind racing, but nothing came to her. Before she could respond, Jonathan, who had been quietly lost in thought, suddenly spoke up.

“I might not know exactly where he is, but—I think I know how to ask him,” The boy said, his voice cutting through the tension as the others turned to him, their attention sharpening.

Hopper’s eyes narrowed. “What are you thinking?”

Jonathan leaned forward slightly, glancing at his mom, Joyce. “Their walkie-talkies. Will has one somewhere at home.”

𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐭

The sky was slightly overcast, with the sun peeking out of the clouds. Steve Harrington sat on the back of his burgundy BMW parked in front of a quick-mart, his usual perfect hair tousled and wild. His face was still bloody from the fight with Jonathan, and dark purple bruises had already begun to form around the cuts. His jaw throbbed every time he moved it.

“You owe me a dollar-twenty,” Tommy Hagan called out, stepping up behind Steve and tossing a bottle of painkillers his way. Steve caught them as they flew through the air, and Tommy handed him a Coke to wash the pills down.

“Don’t worry, man,” Tommy continued, his grin widening as he leaned back, smug, “he’s gonna need a lot more than aspirin when we’re done with him.”

“Yeah, if the cops ever let him out, that is,” Carol chimed in, her voice dripping with cruelty. “They should just lock him up forever. I mean, did you see the look on his face? Total psycho,” She mimicked the look of Jonathan mid-fight, throwing mock punches at Tommy’s chest as he chuckled.

“He probably had that same look whenever he killed his brother, right?” Tommy added with a snicker, giving Steve a light tap on the arm. But Steve remained silent, his expression unreadable—pressing the cold Coke can to the side of his face in an attempt to numb the aching.

Carol, never one to let something go, let alone read the room—continued their tangent. “Oh god, I just got this image of him making that face while he and Nancy are screwing. I wonder if Y/N has ever joined their party—gross!” She grimaced as she said it, but Tommy burst into laughter.

“Carol, just shut your goddamn mouth for once in your life!” Steve’s voice suddenly cut through their mockery, both Tommy and Carol flinching at the unexpected outburst.

Tommy’s brows furrowed as he glanced at Steve, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Hey, what’s your problem man?”

Steve pulled the Coke can away from his face, deadpanning Tommy and Carol’s shocked gaze. “You two are the problem. You’re both complete assholes.”

The brown-haired boy pushed himself off his car, turning toward the driver’s door as he shoved through his friends. “Are you serious right now?” Tommy shot back, still baffled.

“Yeah, I’m serious,” Steve spat, gripping the car door before pausing, meeting Tommy’s gaze. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Done what?” Tommy’s voice oozed with fake innocence, as if he had no idea what he was talking about.

"You know what," Steve growled, stepping in closer to Tommy, his face tightening with anger.

Tommy’s smirk widened. “You mean calling Nancy out for what she really is? Oh-ho, that’s funny, ‘cause I don’t remember you asking me to stop.”

Steve’s grip tightened around the Coke can, his voice dropping into a dangerous tone. “I should’ve shoved that spray paint right down your throat.”

Tommy’s jaw clenched at that, his expression hardening as he stepped forward, closing the gap between them. Carol scoffed, tossing her head in disbelief. “What the hell, Steve?”

Steve’s eyes flicked between the two of them, his patience rapidly wearing thin. “You know, neither of you ever gave a damn about Nancy. Not even Y/N. You didn’t like them, because they’re not miserable like the two of you.” His voice was sharp, filled with bitterness as Tommy and Carol exchanged a glance, acting as if Steve were the crazy one here.

“They actually care about people,” Steve added, before getting cut off by the red-haired girl.

“Oh, right. Nancy—the slut with a heart of gold!” Carol snapped back, the sound of her voice grating Steve’s nerves.

That was it.

“I told you to watch your goddamn mouth!” Steve shouted, pointing at Carol, his Coke can still gripped in his hand. The sudden outburst startled her, but before she could respond, Tommy shoved Steve hard against his car.

"Hey! I don’t know what’s gotten into you, man, but you don’t talk to her that way,” Tommy shot back, jabbing a finger into Steve’s chest.

Steve had enough. He shoved Tommy back, his frustration reaching its breaking point. “Get out of my face,” he warned, stepping closer, eyes locked with Tommy’s brown ones in an attempt to push him back with sheer will.

But Tommy wasn’t backing down. In an instant, he grabbed Steve by the collar of his jacket, yanking him forward and slamming him against the car again. Steve’s hands instinctively flew up, gripping Tommy’s shoulders tightly.

"Or what? You gonna fight me now, too?" Tommy taunted, shaking Steve by the collar—threatening him, his voice thick with arrogance. "Because you couldn’t take Jonathan Byers, so I wouldn’t suggest that.”

Steve’s brow furrowed, his friend’s mocking words echoing through his mind. Tommy gave him one final shove, releasing his grip and stepping back. Steve exhaled sharply, and with one last look at the pair, he turned, angrily opening his car door.

“Let me help you with that door there, buddy,” Tommy sneered, shoving Steve into his seat, and slamming the door on him with a harsh thud. The engine ignited, and Steve wasted no time backing out—the tires screeching against the parking lot asphalt.

Tommy, not content to let it all go just yet, took off running toward the retreating car. “Run away! Just like you always do! That Nancy’s turning you into a little pussy!” His breath hitched as he shoved the back of the car with both hands, watching it lurch forward.

"That’s right! Run away, Stevie boy!” Tommy continued, his voice echoing down the street as the BMW skidded out of the parking lot, tires screeching against the pavement.

“Now what?!” Carol scoffed, throwing her hands out in frustration, standing stranded in the parking lot beside Tommy.

Steve was pissed.

His grip on the steering wheel began turning his knuckles white, barely paying attention to the road as his jaw clenched with frustration. The thought gnawed at his mind; what if he had tried to be good for Nancy? It was all wrong—all of it, and he finally realized. Y/N was right, he shouldn’t have been such a shitty person, and such a shitty boyfriend.

Y/N saw him. The real him. And the truth is—that scared the hell out of him.

He shouldn’t have let Tommy and Carol get to him, to let them spray paint those words on The Hawk about Nancy, and he shouldn’t have let his anger get the best of him. Hell, he couldn’t even blame Nancy for everything with Jonathan, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. But hey, maybe he deserved it—he hurt her too, he pushed her away like she was nothing.

He couldn’t change what he did, and he doubted he could fix it—but he knew he had to try and make it right for those he hurt. At the very least, he owed them that.

𝐁𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

As Joyce’s Ford screeched to a stop outside the Byers house, a cloud of dust billowed up around the group caught in the rush of their arrival. Hopper wasted no time killing the engine, opening the car door to rush inside the house with the others. The teens followed close behind, scrambling out of the backseats and racing up the creaky porch.

Joyce fumbled with the rusty doorknob as she unlocked it, her hands shaking as she finally pushed open the door, sending the group tumbling into the chaos of the Byers home, beginning their desperate search for Will’s walkie-talkie.

Y/N paused as she entered the home, her eyes wide as she took in the disaster before her. Furniture was torn up and overturned, with trash and discarded objects scattered across the wooden floor. The most abnormal part was the Christmas lights hanging overhead, with the alphabet painted onto the wall in the living room—almost like an organized mess.

“Woah,” Nancy muttered under her breath, her eyes glued to the lights as she took in the bizarre setup. Y/N scanned the room, trying to make sense of it all.

“What is all of this?” Y/N questioned, her voice a mixture of awe and confusion, staring at the chaos scattered across the room.

Jonathan, moving briskly down the hall, glanced back over his shoulder, his voice low and hurried. “My mom—she used the lights to talk to Will,”

Y/N and Nancy exchanged questioning looks, with the sound of more clutter echoing throughout the house—until Joyce’s voice broke through.

“I got it!” She shouted, and a small sense of relief coursed over the group. They gathered in what was left in the mess of the Byers living room, attempting to communicate with the younger kids through the walkie-talkie.

“This is an emergency, Mike, do you copy?” Nancy kept repeating, her voice echoing through the room only to be met with silence—the only sound on the other side being static. The quiet felt deafening—like a ticking reminder that they were running out of time. “We need you to answer. We need to know that you’re there, Mike!” Nancy’s voice rose in frustration, until Hopper suddenly stepped forward, pulling the walkie-talkie out of the girl’s grip. She and Y/N exchanged an unsure glance, while Joyce stood by the couch folding her arms tightly, with Jonathan leaning against the wall behind them in anticipation.

“Listen, kid, this is the chief—if you’re there, pick up. We know you’re in trouble, and we know about the girl.” Hopper’s voice commanded, the only response being radio silence as everyone sat quietly, hoping for something—anything on the other side of the radio.

Hopper’s brow furrowed as he pushed on, “We can help you, but you’ve got to pick up. Are you there, do you copy? Over!” He spoke sternly, to no avail. Nothing—again. He sighed, setting the walkie-talkie down in defeat. The man looked toward the rest of the group, rubbing the bridge of his nose, attempting to ground himself.

“Any other ideas?”

As the group exchanged unsure glances, trying to come up with something—a voice arose from the other side of the device, catching their attention. “Yes, I copy. It’s Mike, I’m here… We’re here.”

In a flash, Hopper picked the walkie-talkie back up, a rush of relief running through everyone. “Where are you?” He asked urgently, to be met with a quick response. “The junkyard, we’re piled up in the abandoned bus,” the boy spoke from the other side.

“I’ll meet you there, kid.” Hopper then set the walkie-talkie back down, hurriedly walking toward the front door as he put his jacket back on. “I’ll go and get them, you all stay here,” The chief commanded, throwing his coat on before being stopped by Y/N—who rushed out of her seat on the couch, grabbing his arm.

“I’ll go with you.” She looked up to Hopper, her eyebrows knit together with determination.

Hopper barely glanced at her, shaking his head as he pulled open the door. “No, if it’s a setup, I need you safe. No questions,” He commanded as he walked out of the door, quickly shutting it behind him before anyone could protest.

“Great,” Y/N muttered, turning on her heel to look at the rest of the group. “Now what?”

Jonathan shrugged, leaning against the living room wall with his arms folded. “I guess we wait.”

Hours had passed, and as the night fell a heavy silence settled over the Byers house, broken only by the occasional creak of floorboards and the distant hoot of an owl outside. The tension was thick in the air as the rest of the group waited anxiously for any sign of Hopper and the kids’ return.

The living room was bathed in the soft glow of a lamplight while Joyce paced back and forth, her hands wringing together nervously. She couldn’t stop glancing out the window, searching the darkness for the one thing that could put her mind at ease. Every second felt like an eternity.

Y/N sat beside Nancy, her foot bouncing on the floor anxiously as she stared ahead. The weight of the unknown pressed down on her shoulders. Was Hopper okay? Were the kids safe? There were too many questions and not nearly enough answers, and all she could do was wait.

Suddenly—the sound of a car engine broke through the silence, growing louder and louder until it filled the room with a low rumble. Heads snapped toward the window as headlights pierced through the darkness. Joyce rushed to the window, her breath catching in her throat, fingers trembling as they gripped the sill.

“Is that them?” Y/N’s voice broke the heavy silence in the room. “I hope so, sweetie.” Joyce barely whispered, her gaze still locked on the approaching car, biting her nails in nervous anticipation.

The vehicle pulled up to the house with a screech of tires, its headlights illuminating the front porch in a harsh glare. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as the group held their breath—until Joyce rushed to the front door and opened it, the teens following close behind her.

The headlights turned off and Y/N recognized the vehicle—it was Hopper’s. The chief’s figure exited the driver’s seat, watching as the kids he rescued from the junkyard scrambled over each other out of the back seats.

“Oh my god, Mike?!” Nancy’s voice broke, cracking with relief as she sprinted toward her brother, pulling him into a fierce embrace. “I was so worried about you!” The girl pulled back, gripping her brother’s shoulders, scanning his face with relief.

“Yeah, uh… me too?” Mike spoke softly, taken back by his sister's concern. As Y/N watched the pair reunite, she caught sight of Dustin standing beside Lucas, his face lighting up with surprise when he spotted her.

“Y/N? You’re a part of this too?” The curly-haired boy questioned with wide eyes, disbelief coating his tone.

“Unfortunately,” Y/N gave a small shrug. “Guess we’re all in it now, huh?”

Truth is, she’d rather not be involved in any of it—but it was too late to back out now, for any of them. As Dustin nodded, Y/N’s eyes fell on an unfamiliar face. A girl, small and fragile-looking, stood quietly by the truck. Her head was shaved, and her expression guarded, wearing a pink dress that was covered in grime and dirt.

Then it clicked.

It was the girl from the articles. They really did find her. Nancy’s gaze followed Y/N’s, her brows knitting in confusion. “Is that my dress?” She asked, gesturing at the dirt-covered pink dress the girl was wearing.

Mike looked behind himself at the girl, then shot his sister an apologetic smile. “Uh, yeah, about that…”

Everyone had settled inside and sat in the living room. Mike knelt in front of the coffee table, drawing on a piece of paper, sketching out his explanation of what he’d discovered with his friends. The lamp shined with a yellow hue as Y/N sat on the couch next to Nancy, with Hopper standing beside them, his arms crossed.

“Okay—so, in this example, we’re the acrobat,” Mike began, his finger tracing his attempt at a straight line that held the acrobat upright. The others leaned in, listening intently despite their skepticism. His explanation felt as fragile as the world they were beginning to realize they knew nothing about.

“Will and Barbra, and that monster—the Demogorgan—they’re the flea,” he continued, pointing toward the drawing of a flea on the other side of the line underneath the stick figure as the group paid close attention.

“And this is the upside down, where Will is hiding.” He gestured at the space below the line where the flea was placed. The teens exchanged uncertain glances, trying to make sense of it all.

“Mr. Clarke said the only way to get there is through a rip of time and space,” Mike set the drawing down, looking back up at the rest of the group.

“A gate,” Dustin chimed in, while Y/N furrowed her brows in thought.

“That we tracked to Hawkins’ lab,” Lucas added, drawing the others' attention. “With our compasses,” Dustin finished his sentence, eager to connect the dots—observing the confused expressions on the others, trying to figure out how to make this all make sense.

With a deep breath, the curly-haired boy continued. “Okay, so, the gate has a really strong electromagnetic field—and that can change the direction of a compass's needle.” He clarified.

Hopper, standing rigidly at the edge of the group, finally spoke. “Is this gate underground?” He questioned, his hand wiping his mustache in thought.

“Yes,” Came the soft reply, catching everyone’s attention as it came out of the mysterious girl’s mouth who had said just about nothing all evening.

“Near a large water tank?” Hopper asked again, his expression darkening as the girl confirmed his suspicions with a silent nod.

“How… how do you know all that?” Dustin glanced at Hopper, the man avoiding eye contact at the question, his lips pressed into a firm line.

“He’s seen it…” Mike thought out loud. “Holy shit!” Dustin shouted, his hands holding the top of his head in disbelief, earning a glare from Hopper—but the dots connected in Y/N’s mind. All the times Hopper had been late and came up with his lame excuses… he’d been investigating Hawkins lab for this girl? That man was absolutely terrible at keeping a secret.

“Is there any way that you could—you could reach Will? That you could talk to him in this…” Joyce asked, slightly stuttering through her nerves, and the girl with the shaved head finished her sentence—her voice barely above a whisper.

“The upside down.”

“Down… yeah,” Joyce whispered, her eyes trailing off in thought.

“And our friend Barbra…” Nancy spoke up after some hesitation, her gaze landing on Y/N next to her, then to the small girl. “Can you find her too?”

The tension in the room weighed heavily upon the group’s shoulders as they surrounded the kitchen table. The girl with powers sat in the center, eyes closed—her face eerily calm as she concentrated. In front of her, the static from Will’s walkie-talkie crackled faintly, along with a sketch of Barb that Y/N had drawn.

No one could fully understand what the girl was doing, but she’d explained enough—they knew she was trying to find Will and Barb, somewhere deep inside her mind.

The girl’s eyes twitched beneath her eyelids, rolling slightly as her focus deepened. As she concentrated—Y/N felt goosebumps forming on her arms, her hair standing straight in the air as if lightning was about to strike. She furrowed her eyebrows, her mouth open in silent shock until she noticed the lights above her flickering, the electricity in the house faltering as though the very energy was being altered.

There were so many unanswered questions, yet no one dared to speak.

Suddenly, after what felt like an eternity, the girl’s eyes flew open. Her face was pale, heavy with the weight of something unspoken. The electricity above steadied, humming back to life as the static from the walkie-talkie faded into silence once more.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. The girl couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, her expression guarded, almost hollow.

Y/N’s heart sank. The apology felt heavier than any answer could have been.

Joyce's voice trembled as she leaned across the table, her hands nervously gripping the edge. “What—what’s wrong? What did you see?” She stammered, her wide eyes darting between the girl and Hopper, who rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“I can’t find them,” the girl’s voice broke, barely audible as she stood, her face pale and exhausted. “I need to use the bathroom,” she glanced at Joyce, and the brunette nodded as she stood from her seat, quickly showing her the way to their restroom.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind the girl, Mike broke the heavy silence. “It’s like… every time she uses her powers, she gets weaker,” he explained, his voice quieter than usual. He exchanged a worried look with Dustin, who added, “The more energy she uses, the more it drains her. Kind of like how a battery runs out.”

“Yeah, you should’ve seen her earlier,” Lucas chimed in, shaking his head in disbelief. “She literally flipped a van off the road with just her mind. It was insane.”

“But,” Mike sighed, slumping into his seat, “she’s totally wiped out now. Like, she can’t even think straight after something like that.”

Joyce re-entered the room, her voice shaky, eyes darting between everyone. “So… how do we help her? How do we make her better?”

Mike shook his head, sighing with a shrug. “We don’t. We just have to wait and try again.”

Nancy, pacing beside Y/N, threw her hands up in frustration. “Wait? How long is that supposed to take?”

“I don’t know.” Her brother simply said, while Y/N noticed a figure emerging from the hall behind him. The girl stood there, her exhaustion weighing heavy in her eyes, yet her face set in a determined line.

“The bath,” she spoke, and everyone’s focus shifted toward her.

Joyce shook her head, trying to understand what the girl was saying. “The bath?”

“I can find them… in the bath.” She clarified, while everyone exchanged confused glances, trying to piece together what the girl meant.

Suddenly, Dustin's eyes lit up, a lightbulb going off in his head. “Sensory deprivation!” He exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face as if everything had just clicked into place. “That’s what she’s talking about.” He snapped his fingers and looked around, excited.

“You’re a genius, Dustin!” Lucas beamed, high-fiving the curly-haired boy who grinned proudly, his gummy smile lighting up the entire room.

“Ms. Byers, can I use your phone?” Dustin asked, and without waiting for an answer, he headed straight for the home phone mounted on the wall, dialing frantically.

“What, why?” Joyce's voice cut through, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion as she stared at the boy.

“My science teacher, Mr. Clarke," Dustin explained, the excitement in his voice building. "He knows all this stuff. He’ll know how to make a sensory deprivation tank, like a bath.”

Everyone stood in silence as they watched the boy ring his teacher, the sound of crickets chirping outside filling the cool air, with the occasional floorboard creaking. Y/N looked toward the clock on the wall, reading 10:07 PM, wondering if the teacher would even pick up the phone this late.

Dustin stood by the phone, the rhythmic ringing seeming to stretch on forever. Just as the silence became unbearable, his voice suddenly pierced the air. “Mr. Clarke? It’s Dustin!”

The boy then begged his teacher to explain sensory deprivation, and on the other end of the line, there was a long pause—Mr. Clarke clearly processing this strange late-night request—but with some persistent pleading from Dustin, he eventually started listing the steps. Joyce quickly handed him a notepad, and Dustin jotted down the instructions, nodding eagerly as he listened. “Yep, uh-huh. We’ll be careful, I promise,” Dustin reassured his teacher, shooting a glance at the others crowded around him, supporting the phone between his shoulder and ear. "Thanks for helping with this curiosity voyage so late! See you Monday, Mr. Clarke."

As he hung up the phone on the wall, Dustin turned to the rest of the group, pencil still in hand. “Do you still have that kiddie pool we used for bobbing apples, Ms. Byers?” He asked, pointing the pencil at her.

Joyce blinked, trying to recall. “Uh… I think so?” She looked to Jonathan, who nodded to confirm.

“Good, then we just need salt. Lots of it.” Dustin declared, raising his brows, his voice taking on a serious tone.

“How much is lots?” Hopper asked, his arms folded over his chest, watching the boy as he re-examined the notes he’d just written on the notepad.

“Fifteen hundred pounds.” Dustin didn’t even flinch, but the room collectively froze.

“And where the hell are we supposed to find that much salt?” Y/N questioned, leaning against the kitchen table with her hands.

Hopper scratched his chin, thinking for a moment before speaking. “I might know a place.”

𝐇𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥

The group arrived in the dead of night at Hawkins Middle School. Street lights dimly lit dark, empty roads, with moonlight reflecting off the pavement. Hopper recalled the middle school stores de-snowing salt in bulk, as well as the other supplies they needed. Everyone rushed out of their vehicles, splitting off into groups to grab supplies. Y/N, Dustin, and Lucas made their way inside the school to set up the kiddie pool, after Hopper broke the lock for them. The smell of old books and cleaning supplies lingered in the air, their quick footsteps echoing through the halls past rows of silent classrooms and bulletin boards filled with announcements and posters.

“Never thought I’d be trying to find my presumed-to-be-dead friend with Hawkins’ new girl, let alone a girl who can throw vans with her mind,” The curly-haired boy broke the silence as they walked, carrying the kiddie pool together, a smirk creeping onto his face.

“I'm not that new, jerk. I've been here for months,” Y/N shot back, sending the boy a sideways glance.

Dustin shrugged, not missing a beat. “In Hawkins terms, you're still new. We only get fresh faces once, maybe twice a year, tops. So yeah, you’re still in the 'new kid' category, sorry Y/N.”

The girl scoffed as Lucas shook his head, “Yeah, well the even weirder part here is the girl with telekinetic powers,” he chimed in, raising an eyebrow as he looked between the other two.

Dustin nodded, pretending to consider. “You’ve got a point. I guess you learn something new every day—like the fact that superpowers aren’t just comic book stuff.”

“Right,” Y/N muttered, half to herself. “Because everything else about this town is totally normal.”

The group found the gym, setting down the kiddie pool to open the doors. As they entered, the space was pitch dark—you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face. Lucas ran his hand along the wall, finding a light switch and flipping it on as the gym became dimly lit by a light hanging in the center. Sponsor flags were hanging up, with the school’s theme colors painted on the walls.

“Alright, let's get this thing to the middle,” Y/N suggested, gesturing toward the kiddie pool.

“Son of a bitch—why is this thing so heavy?” Dustin grumbled, his face scrunched with effort as they dragged the bulky pool, the plastic skidding as it slid across the slick floor.

“Because we’re doing this the hard way,” Y/N said dryly, helping the boys roll it into position. Once they reached the middle, they untied the rope holding the kiddie pool together and threw it aside. They began to pull it apart, but it quickly became clear they were in over their heads.

“Okay, um—it’s upside down,” Dustin muttered, fumbling uselessly with the sides.

“No, it’s not. Pull harder,” Lucas corrected the boy, earning an, “I am!” from Dustin, trying to make sense of the mess as Y/N tugged on one of the flaps, only to watch it flop back down, throwing her hands out in defeat. “How does this even work?”

“I don’t know—we need a strategy,” Lucas declared. “Let’s pull it back together… on three.”

The group readied themselves, holding onto the edges. “One, two, three,” Lucas counted down, pulling it apart with everyone, but the walls of the kiddie pool stubbornly collapsed on the floor with a loud thud.

“Shit!” Dustin exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. “This damn thing has a mind of its own.”

Y/N huffed, shaking her head as she put her hands on her hips. “Okay, we seriously need a new plan.”

“Yeah, before we end up in a wrestling match with a kiddie pool,” Lucas chimed in with a playful grin, before Dustin slapped his shoulder. “Hey, man! What was that for?”

After a bit of waiting, Nancy and Mike arrived in the gymnasium pushing a wheelbarrow full of hoses, rushing to connect it to a water source in the janitor's closet. As they connected all the hoses, Mike drug the hose to the kiddie pool, helping the others hold it up. Water began to flood in the pool, while Lucas shouted at Nancy whether to turn the water hotter or cooler to get the temperature just right.

Hopper and Jonathan arrived with their supplies and worked together to pour all fifteen hundred pounds of salt into the pool. They passed the sacks of salt to each other and slit them open with a knife, watching the white crystals spill into the water.

The boys tested how much salt they needed to use by dropping an egg into the water. If it floated, everything was exactly as it needed to be: salt amount, water amount, water temperature, etc. The egg kept sinking, so they added more and more salt until the egg finally floated on the surface, the boys giving each other a big high-five in victory.

The girl with the shaved head finally arrived at the gym with Joyce, bringing the whole group back together as they gathered around the kiddie pool. Mike grabbed his walkie-talkie, turning up the static on an empty channel. Y/N watched as the girl began to take off her socks to enter the pool, with Joyce handing her blacked-out science goggles.

“What’s her name again?” Nancy whispered as Y/N stood beside her, glancing at her brother, Mike.

“Eleven—or El, for short.”

The girl took a deep breath and stepped into the pool, making her way to the center after Joyce and Hopper helped her, supporting her with their hands. The group sat around the kiddie pool, watching the girl lay back—her pink dress becoming soaked, flowing in the water.

Not even a few seconds in, the electricity in the gymnasium surged—flickering on and off. The same feeling Y/N had felt at the Byers washed over her, goosebumps forming on her skin as her hair stood like there was electricity. Everyone exchanged stunned looks with each other, until suddenly—the gym blacked out, leaving the emergency lights on, dimly lighting the room.

“That’s not creepy at all…” Dustin whispered under his breath, before getting cut off by Eleven’s voice.

“Barbra?” The girl’s soft voice echoed through the gym, while Y/N and Nancy tentatively leaned in to hear what the girl was saying—their concern for their lost friend rising. The girl began breathing heavily, and abruptly—the lights began flickering erratically once again.

“What’s going on?” Nancy questioned as she looked around with wide eyes.

“I don’t know,” Mike answered, exchanging a worried glance with the girl.

“Is Barb okay? Is she okay?” Nancy asked desperately, gripping the rim of the kiddie pool—her voice quivering. Her expression was etched with fear, searching for any sign of her friend’s fate. Eleven remained silent for a few moments, then suddenly began repeating a single, devastating word.

“Gone.”

The word grew louder with each repetition, echoing through the gymnasium, sending waves of dread that crashed over Y/N—especially Nancy. Her hand reached to cover her mouth, her eyebrows furrowed together in disbelief. Y/N placed a hand on Nancy’s shoulder, watching as tears began to form in her eyes.

Joyce placed a comforting hand on Eleven, her voice soothing as she tried to calm the girl. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Joyce whispered. Eleven's breaths came fast and shallow, her small body trembling until she finally steadied herself. The gym lights flickered and went out again, the emergency lights casting a dim glow. “Castle Byers,” Eleven spoke through the oppressive silence, her voice clear and urgent. Joyce and Jonathan exchanged glances, hope sparking inside of them as they leaned in toward El.

“Will?” Eleven called out, her voice carrying through the stillness, earning a gasp from Joyce.

“You—you tell him I’m coming. Mom is coming.” Joyce stuttered, her hands trembling as she held Eleven’s shoulders, eyes wide with desperation. Everyone's attention suddenly snapped to the walkie-talkie as a boy's voice crackled through the static—breaking the silence with a single, urgent word.

“Hurry.”

Everyone exchanged shocked glances, the gym filling with silence once again, until Eleven abruptly jerked up in the pool, water splashing—startling the group. She gasped, taking off the science goggles, and Joyce immediately pulled her into a tight embrace.

“I’ve got you,” Joyce repeated. “It’s okay sweetie, you did so good,” She spoke reassuringly, stroking the girl’s head as she comforted her.

Y/N sat frozen for a moment, then made a sudden beeline for the gymnasium doors, her footsteps echoing loudly in the silent space. She burst into the dimly lit hallway, clutching her mouth, attempting to piece together what happened in her mind. She was grateful for the hope for Will, but all she could think about was Barbra.

Did she die as soon as she got sucked up in my dream? Was there a chance I could’ve saved her if we would’ve figured this all out sooner?

She paced the hall frantically before being startled by the sight of Hopper in her frenzy—stopping dead in her tracks, his presence a sudden, grounding force. “Come here, kid,” the man opened his arms, watching as tears welled up in the girl’s eyes. She ran and clashed into his embrace, almost knocking him back.

“What if—” Y/N’s voice began to tremble, pausing momentarily as she took a deep, shaky breath. “What if I could’ve saved her?” She said, closing her eyes tight, wishing it all away—only to be met with Barb’s frightened expression, clutching onto Hopper even tighter.

“Listen, there’s nothing you could’ve done, Y/N. There’s nothing we could’ve done, it wasn’t your fault.” Hopper sighed, his voice thick with empathy, rubbing the girl's back, watching as she pulled away from the hug—meeting her teary-eyed expression.

“Everything’s going to be okay.” Hopper raised his eyebrows. “I’ve got to go meet Joyce in my car, alright? We’re going to save Will. You stay here with the kids, we will be back.” The man put his hands on the girl’s shoulders, watching her nod tentatively.

“Okay…” she managed to speak, watching Hopper’s hands leave her shoulders as he walked past her toward the exit, leaving the girl in the empty, silent hallway.

“Be safe, okay?” Y/N called out to Hopper before he left, watching him turn around to meet her gaze.

“Always, kid.”

As Hopper exited, Y/N was left alone in the middle school’s hallway, lost in thought. What now? She couldn’t just sit here and wait. Suddenly, the gym doors swung open, revealing the girl’s friends—Nancy and Jonathan.

“Y/N?” Nancy's voice called out, breaking through the stillness. Their worried gazes met Y/N’s, a moment of profound silence hanging in the air. The three stood there, united by their grief and determination. Nancy’s voice was low but resolute.

“Let’s kill that damn thing.”

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

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cptindanvers · 4 months ago

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you (remastered)

summary: y/n is best friends with nancy wheeler and barbara holland. but after her boyfriend, steve cheats on her with nancy and barb disappears, y/n becomes best friends with jonathan byers and helps save hawkins from the evil that lies beneath its surface.

word count; 1,837

set in season one, platonic! jonathan byers x reader

warnings; angsty

It took four "no"s for them to finally mean something to Steve when he asked (more like begged) you to come to the small party he was having. Steve had a record of taking advantage of his parents' frequent absences but they usually only induced your presence in his room.

You had planned on attending, initially. But when a headache formed and only intensified throughout the day, you were positive that another minute of being around Tommy and Carol would drive you clinically insane.

Frequently, different versions of how your life could've gone run through your mind. What if you'd gone? Would you and Steve be together still? Would you still have your two best friends?

You figured Steve was annoyed with you for really not showing up last night - he hadn't picked you up, hadn't waited by your locker. It would've worried you if you weren't so aware of how people's eyes hooked onto you, questions evident over their heads as they wondered why your famous boyfriend wasn't by your side.

You're starting to get really pissed off by the time the last bell rings. Steve isn't standing by the door of your last class like he usually is, ready to kiss you in the middle of the hallway without a care in the world. He doesn't take your things to your locker or carry your bag to his car, ready to take you anywhere you want to go - at least, for a while.

It's chilly once you get out to the parking lot. Maybe a walk in the finger-numbing air will help clear your mind.

You're only a few steps in before you recognize your boyfriend's side profile, threateningly looming over someone else. It doesn't take long to identify Tommy, Carol, and... Jonathan Byers.

Steve wasn't one to take things that far. He still had a reputation to maintain, both at school and with his parents. But you watched as he tore up photographs and dangled Jonathan's camera carelessly in his hands.

You've rerouted yourself, feet taking you in their direction without your brain approving the request first.

Usually, you'd stay out of it but if Steve was already ignoring you then there wasn't much else for you to lose.

And maybe you were a little exhausted, too. Perhaps you'd spent far too long being nothing more than a bystander, guilt and shame bubbling up until you've finally reached your limit.

Jonathan Byers had already lost his younger brother - he really didn’t need this.

"What's going on?" You ask to no one in particular.

"None of your business," Tommy retorts immediately.

You glance at your boyfriend expectedly - but he just shakes his head.

“Just get inside, alright? I’ll catch up with you.” Steve places his hand on your shoulder, attempting to direct you away.

It's useless - especially once you spot the photos you watched Steve tear up. Ones of your best friend undressed in his room.

You pick up one of the crudely ripped pieces from the ground, breaking out of Steve's loose grasp and stepping closer to Jonathan, fury in your eyes.

"What the hell is this?"

Jonathan's eyes jumped from you to the photo to Steve. He saw the anger in Steve's eyes but, under the tightly drawn brows, there was something else. Something in his eyes was pleading.

Jonathan averted his eyes as if it'd save him, looking at the ground as he made his choice.

"Nancy was undressing in Steve’s room last night.”

As soon as those words came from Jonathan’s mouth, his camera paid the price, glass smashing as soon as the device hit the ground.

"It's not what you th-" Steve steps closer from behind you, after the camera has left his grasp. Priorities, right?

Before he could even try to lie his way out of things, you turn sharply, your hand coming up to slap him before you could even think a rational thought.

“You’re an asshole, Steve Harrington.” You say, picking up the pieces of the ripped pictures. You weren’t sure why you decided to keep them. Proof? Revenge?

“Come on,” You begin, taking Jonathan’s hand and walking away, knowing he would be dealing with much worse than a broken camera if you left him.

You hadn't even gotten ten steps of distance before a painfully familiar voice caught your attention.

“What’s going on?”

Your head snapped to the right only to see Nancy standing there, wide-eyed and nervous.

Your anger hasn't mellowed but people are beginning to slow in their steps and turn their heads.

“I really can’t believe you, Nancy," you say quietly.

You drag Jonathan along, leaving Nancy behind with tears slipping down her cheeks.

⁂

You're not sure what you were thinking, pulling Jonathan out of there with you. You'd wanted to avoid a scene, for sure, and you didn't know what Jonathan's confession would entail for him other than punches.

"I'm sorry," you begin, words spewing out before you can control them. "For the camera. For letting them treat you like that. Not just today, for all the days."

Tears are beginning to well in your eyes and you turn away from Jonathan. Too many emotions are begging for an outlet, mainly shame and embarrassment. But the hurt is threatening to start seeping in soon now, too.

You try to focus on your breathing, on anything other than your own self-pity.

Jonathan surprises you with a cautious hand on your shoulder, as if he was scared to touch you. "Would you, um... do you want a ride home?"

⁂

"Jonathan, I need your help."

It'd been a few days after the incident with his camera and Jonathan giving you a ride home. You'd expected it to be much more awkward than it initially was - but eventually, the two of you began talking. About what Jonathan had been doing that night, about the hunt for Will, about Barb.

Perhaps that was another big source of your anger towards Steve and Nancy. Apart from the intoxicated infidelity, wasn't it their fault Barb was missing?

"Yeah?"

"Well, I... okay, this is gonna sound stupid, but listen..." There's not much of a defense you can build for yourself considering how crazy you sound - especially saying it all out loud. But you try to explain yourself, try to explain the faceless, humanoid figure you saw around Steve's house when you went looking for her the day prior - and its resemblance to a strange figure in the corner of one of the photographs Steve had ripped up.

“I know it sounds crazy.” You say, eyes looking into Jonathan’s, pleading for him to believe you.

“Yeah, it does," Jonathan nods and your heart sinks. "But I trust you." He places a hand on your shoulder, comforting you once again.

⁂

After figuring out that thing you saw had also been spotted by Jonathan’s mom, you two decided you two better learn some self-defense, just in case.

So, Jonathan taught you how to shoot a gun.

⁂

After coming back from the strange dimension in Mirkwood, you asked Jonathan to stay with you. This whole thing was beginning to get to you - other-worldly places, monsters, kidnappings. Honestly? You were terrified, and sitting alone in an empty room wouldn't do you any favors.

Jonathan gave in eventually, knowing he wouldn't be able to stand sleeping alone, either.

Having someone else in the room soothed you, enough to eventually fall asleep - even if the lights stayed on.

⁂

Whatever this monster-thing was, it was attracted to blood.

Well, it was a working theory. Jonathan had noticed Barb holding her hand like she'd injured it and, although it wasn't much to go off of, it'd do for now.

Perhaps the two of you were in over your heads but you and Jonathan had made your decision - you were going to kill that things.

Jonathan drove you two over to the gun supply store. Somewhere along the way, you began laughing.

"What?" Jonathan asked and, although he was clueless as to what was causing your amusement, he was smiling.

"Nothing," you shake your head. "It's just..." You turn to face him, even if his attention is on getting all your purchases into the trunk of his car. "A week ago. Not even. Two completely different worlds, right?"

Jonathan closes his trunk. "And now you get to suffer the consequences."

You furrow your brows.

Jonathan shrugs. "People talk."

Before you can respond, a loud honk catches both of your attention.

“Hey, freaks! Can’t wait to see your movie!” Someone calls before driving off.

“What was that?” Jonathan asked, obviously confused.

But you knew.

Steve had tried to call you and asked you to the movies to “start over”. You never picked up the phone, but you heard the voicemail.

Jonathan’s confusion only grew as you took off, a walk turning into a run as you stood outside the movie theater, Jonathan attempting to keep up. The both of you stared at the new addition to the Now Showing picture - both your names, spraypainted in red.

You knew your reputation had taken a turn once you'd broken up with Steve - it was inevitable, really. Your popularity really only was thanks to Steve. But it'd nose-dived instead of tapered off when you'd started hanging around Jonathan.

It wasn't like you didn't hear what everyone whispered, but you could usually shut it down with a look or with the truth, albeit put harshly. Depended on who was asking.

Laughter floated from the alley beside the theater. You turn into the alley, facing Steve, Carol, Tommy, and the other girl whose name you never bothered learning.

“Oh, here comes the freak couple!” Carol taunted, making kissing sounds as you stop in front of Steve.

“What the hell, Steve?” Your arms cross in front of your chest. You're on edge. Defensive. So many months together and this is how he's gonna do things?

“Well, it’s obvious you two are a thing,” Steve replied casually, shrugging his shoulders.

“What? So you can sleep with Nancy but I can’t hang out with Jonathan?"

“Oh, it's Jonathan now. So, what was Jonathan doing in your room?”

The question makes you falter - usually, when you're with Jonathan, it's out. Never at your house. Except...

You scoff. “Were you spying on me?”

“Answer the question.”

“We were- I just-” You shook your head, finding it difficult to explain that the only reason Jonathan had slept in your room was because entering another, very slimey and dark dimension had terrified you.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Steve scoffed, crossing his arms.

It's not worth it. You shouldn't have to explain yourself in the first place. Steve's upset you never called back but he was the one who fucked up. Not you.

“Come on,” You say, grabbing Jonathan’s hand and walking away for the second time that week.

“You know, Byers, you’re a screw-up, just like the rest of your family. Honestly, I’m not surprised that Will is dead. I mean, nobody misses him anyway-” Steve started, shoving Jonathan repeatedly. Steve quickly shut up when Jonathan’s fist met his face.

“Jonathan, stop!” You yell, trying to pull him off Steve while simultaneously trying to avoid getting hit.

The fistfight finally ended when the cops showed up, arresting Jonathan while you put your face in your hands in shame and frustration.

⁂

You found yourself at Hawkins Middle. You weren't sure exactly what you were doing there, something about a girl and a pool you needed to fill with salt. You were still a little confused and even more lost as to why Nancy was there. You're sure it had something to do with Mike.

Everyone was sat around the girl, El, as she floated in an inflatable pool in the middle of the school gym. She had been voicing almost everything she saw, trying to find Barbara and Will. Everyone hung on to her words, tension and anticipation hanging in the air.

“Barb…dead.”

Blood rushed in your ears as the weight that had been sitting in your chest for days began to ache. Your throat tightened and god, you couldn't breathe.

Your feet take you outside and your body folds over, hands on your knees as you try to breathe.

It feels like forever before your strangled gasps become shakey breaths and you barely register the opening of the door behind you.

Nancy's here and your resolve breaks.

Somehow, your arms find each other. Somehow, you manage not to blame her.

There was no time for tears. Nancy's eyes were full of fury once the two of you managed to pull away.

“Let’s kill that son of a bitch.”

⁂

There was a knock at the door almost immediately after you all bandaged your bleeding hands. You stuck your head out, careful to not let whoever knocked see the traps and light inside the Byers home.

“Jonathan-" Steve's presence makes your eyes widen. God, you should've made Jonathan answer it. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Something about the scene bothers him sincerely.

"Steve, you should leave," you say seriously.

Steve shakes his head and any annoyance off. "No, no. Look, I- I messed up, alright? I need to apologize.”

“No, Steve, you seriously-” You're cut off by Steve reaching for your hand - the one you'd just sliced open. Shit.

“What happened to your hand? Did Jonathan do that to you? I swear if he hurt you-”

There was no stopping Steve at that point. He managed his way inside despite your insistence, his brows furrowing at all the Christmas lights.

“What the hell is going on here?” Steve yelled, looking around in utter confusion.

Desperation was beginning to consume you - at the end of the day, you didn't want Steve involved in this. You wanted him far, far away.

“Steve.” You say steadily, picking up Lonnie’s gun and pointing it at him. “You need to leave.”

“What the hell?" Steve shouts, scared by your strange behavior. "Put that thing down! Look-”

Nancy calls your name, motioning to the flickering lights, but your attention is stuck on Steve. On making him go.

“Steve! Get out!”

Jonathan yells your name, finally grabbing your attention. “Look!”

Your head snaps, noticing the lights flickering around you.

“Shit.”

⁂

After a lot of initial screaming from Steve, the four of you had done a considerable amount of damage to it before it disappeared.

Now, Jonathan, Nancy, and you had to explain what was going on to a very overwhelmed Steve while heading back to meet with everyone else.

Most of the slack had fallen on you, naturally. It was strange, you and Steve in his car like before, only this time you were stuck having a conversation you couldn't conjure up in your wildest dreams.

"So- so that thing-"

"Demo-something. It's from... it's from a game the kids play."

"That thing is what took Barb and Will?"

"It, um, likes blood. Which is why..." you gesture to the bandaid around your hand.

"And- and Christmas lights?"

"Look, I don't really get it either-"

"No, no," Steve shakes his head. He's quiet as he pulls into a spot at Hawkins Middle but he doesn't move after putting his car into park. "I'm sorry."

It's silent as you try to find the right words to say. With everything happening, you really haven't given Steve much though. You hadn't had a chance to work through your anger or to think of something witty to say in this exact situation.

But you're still angry. Very angry.

"Just forget it, Steve."

"No, I want to apologize-"

"Just forget it. We were never gonna work out, right?"

You don't spare him a glance as you get out of the car. You have bigger things to worry about right now.

⁂

It didn't take very long for you to forgive - Nancy, at least. Drunken mistakes aside, she had never tried to go after Steve before. Plus, you think the two of you needed each other right now.

It was early December when she asked you for permission to pursue him, officially.

"It’s completely alright if you don’t want me to, we just started being friends again and-”

“Nance, it’s okay, really. You two were both drunk and you both apologized. If you like him and he likes you, then who am I to stop you?”

She gave you a big hug after that, but you couldn’t help the tug in your chest.

⁂

“You ready to go?” You asked Jonathan as he climbed back into his car, escaping the harsh December winds.

“Yeah,” Jonathan replied, turning to you. “She kissed me on the cheek.” He said, a small smile spreading on his face.

“Woah there, Byers. Aren’t you moving a bit too fast?”

Jonathan chuckled, lightly punching you on the arm. “Yeah, she’s dating your ex, but hey, a guy can dream. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You and Steve?” Jonathan asked, his smile turning into a smirk.

“Steve cheated on me.” You retort, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, well, you can dream, can’t you?”

The two of you laughed, a comfortable silence filling the car.

“Hey, why don’t you stay for dinner? Mom always cooks enough to feed an army.” Jonathan asks as you pull into his driveway.

The offer takes you by surprise. Perhaps you'd thought that once all of that was over, your friendship with Jonathan would be, too. “Oh, no, I couldn’t.”

“Come on, spend time with your favorite Byers?” Jonatha smiles, leaning over to open your door. It was really a nicer way of saying I know you don't have anything better to do - except maybe wallow.

“Fine!” You sigh dramatically, getting out of the car.

“You know you love me.” Jonathan nudges your shoulder, a grin matching yours on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever," You shake your head.

Despite everything the two of you had lost, at the very least you'd gotten each other.

⁂

masterlist / read part 2 here! / read part 3 here!

remastered, reworked... happy almost 5 years to this fic! if you'd like, you can read the original here, though i advise against it!

(p.s. part three is coming)

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst

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thinkinonsense · 3 months ago

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Eat or Be Eaten ✦ Steve Harrington x fem!oc: S1: The Vanishing of Will Byers.

╰┈➤ Summary: In the dark corners of Hawkins, Indiana holds the gate to an alternate upside-down dimension. When a little boy goes missing in the town, Johanna Hopper and her friends gather to help find him before it's too late. Along the way, Johanna finds herself getting intertwined with the likings of a strange little girl and someone she claims to hate.

╰┈➤c/w: violence, cursing, angst, mentions of death

╰┈➤ word count: 2k+

╰┈➤a/n: I posted this completed fic on wattpad, but I thought I would post it here too. If you want to be added to the future tags list, comment on this, and I'll add you. Hope everyone enjoys :)

╰┈➤next chapter here

• November Seventh, Nineteen Eighty-Three

✦ Monday mornings were truly hellish. Classes felt longer yet, the rest of the day ran shorter. Your car takes forever to warm up, even after you kick the tires and curse at it. Some mornings the only thing getting you out of bed are your friends or the coffee sitting in the kitchen, waiting for you long after your father made it an hour ago.

This morning, it was the coffee.

"Johanna? Are you even listening?" The voice snaps me back into reality.

"Hm?" I blink at my shorter, curly-haired friend.

"Did you hear what I said?"

No, I did not.

"Yeah." I nod, removing the rim of my coffee lid from my lips. "You said, 'Something, Something, Steve this, Steve that, Something'."

The taller, red-headed girl beside me tried her hardest not to laugh at my comment but a small giggle escaped her. Meanwhile, my eyes flash around the hallway and past the parking lot doors, waiting for someone else this morning.

"I didn't say that."

"But I was close though? Right, Nance?"

She rolls her eyes playfully and shuts her locker. Just past her head, I spot Steve Harrington and his obnoxious friends approaching us.

"Morning ladies," Steve says, while only looking at Nancy.

Without much care, I lifted my cup over my mouth again when Barb looked at me, I put my finger in my mouth, pretending to gag at the scene. Nancy, Barbra, and I have been friends since fifth grade, so it's fair to say we know each other well.

"Someone looks jealous." Tommy H laughed, watching Barb and I.

"Not jealous per-say. Disgusted? Definitely." Barb shoves my rib softly, causing me to add. "No offense, Wheeler."

Apparently, that ruffled a few feathers but luckily, the bell for the first period rang and I could make a swift exit. As I walked into the classroom, I saw that most students were still waiting for Mrs. Young. Following in shortly behind me was Steve and Carol, Tommy's girlfriend, who is possibly the most annoying person I have ever met.

Steve sits in his seat right in front of me, blocking my entire view of the board with his immense hair. Ever since Nance developed this crush on him, I soon realized that he would be around regardless of whether or not I wanted him to be.

"Hey, did Nance tell you about tonight?" He asks, twisted in his chair to talk to me.

As I try to recall anything Nancy said this morning, I lick the bitter coffee residue off my lips.

"What's tonight?"

"I invited you guys over. It's a small get-together."

"Sounds like a party."

"Well, don't rat us out to your dad and maybe it can be." He smirks, trying to charm me.

"Actually I think he would enjoy a little party."

Steve rolls his eyes and then sighs, turning around in his chair when Mrs. Young walks into the room.

For as long as I have known Steve Harrington, he's been an entitled, silver-spoon-fed jerk. It wasn't until he learned that Nancy liked him that now he is trying to be a little less of a douchebag.

But still a douchebag, nonetheless.

✮

After fifth period, on my way back to my locker, I saw Barb waiting for me. Just a few feet away stood Steve and Nance at Steve's locker, making heart eyes at each other and tripping over their words.

"What's with the long look, red?" I ask, nudging Barb's arm while I unlock my locker.

"Nothing it's..." She sighs, debating on if she should say what she's thinking. "It's just that Nance is so obsessed with Steve."

That might sound rash but lately, it seems like all Nancy ever wants to talk about is Steve.

"Yeah, like this past weekend when we were out shopping, all she only cared about finding a new sweater that Steve would like."

"Exactly! I mean, I get that but..."

Barb's voice started to fade into a void while we were heading to Nancy's locker because, in the teacher's lounge, I heard someone say my dad's name, making me stop dead in my tracks.

"Did you hear that Chief Hopper is looking for that Byers kid? Apparently, he didn't make it home last night."

Byers kid? Was it Jonathan or Will? Is that why Jonathan's not here? It has to be.

"Johanna, where are you-?"

"I gotta go! I'll see you later!"

I turned around and ran out the back doors to my car. Tapping my thumbs on my wheel, anxiously while I sped over to Jonathan's house.

There were so many questions but I was too afraid to know the answers. Jonathan's car was parked outside but Joyce's car was missing.

"Jonathan!" I shouted, knocking on the wooden door.

"Who is it-"

The door opened and I sprung myself onto him, hugging him tightly. He was stiff until he realized it was me, relaxing into the hug.

"Dude! You scared the shit out of me! I thought, thought that..." I mumbled into his neck.

"It's Will."

My heart plummeted; to my stomach as I pulled away to look at him. Wet tears still stained his cheeks.

"He's missing."

We went back to Jonathan's room. A song by The Smiths played when we walked in. He turned it down and we both slumped down on his bed.

I could not believe it. Will was the quietest and sweetest little boy, how could he have just disappeared?

"Last night, he was supposed to bike home from Mike's house-"

"Nancy's little brother?"

Mike, Will, and their two other friends were quite a few years younger than us. Seventh graders to be specific.

"Yeah. He and Mike play Dungeons and Dragons with two of their other friends, Lucas and Dustin."

"Okay, then what happened?"

"I'm not sure. For some reason, Will didn't come home last night and we haven't seen him this morning." He sighed. "My mom's downtown talking with your dad about it."

"Well, somehow people are starting to find out."

"Who told you?"

"No one. I overheard some teachers talking about it at lunch."

Jonathan nodded then rested his head on my shoulder. I know he would never ask me this but I am sure he's wondering if this is how I felt when my younger sister, Sarah passed away.

Our parents have known each other since high school but it wasn't until Sarah passed and my mom left that I grew close with Jonathan. Sure, we had met before or gone to the other's birthday parties but once we hit middle school, we started to hang out together.

We listened to The Smiths' whole album in silence; just sitting together. Neither of us said anything until we heard Joyce's car pull into the driveway.

"Oh, Johanna!" Joyce jumped when she saw me in the hallway with Jonathan. "I was just with your father... Did he... Did he tell you about..?"

"No, Jonathan did," I answered. We knew it was best not to tell Joyce that the news was being spread already. "Is there anything I can do to help out?"

"No, sweetie," Joyce says, lighting a cigarette; and taking a seat at their table. "If you hear anything from your dad, let us know."

I nod before saying goodbye to them.

The house was hollow when I returned. Most nights it was like this, Dad would work late at the station and I would be here alone. It was different when I was growing up. Don't get me wrong, I love my dad. We've had our fair share of bumpy roads behind us but now, we only have each other.

In the kitchen, the phone began to ring.

"Hello?" I answered, leaning against the fridge.

"Johanna..." Nance practically sings into the phone.

"Yes, Wheeler?"

"I need a favor."

"What favor?"

I already knew what she wanted. Nancy likely already called Barb and wants her to come with her to Steve's house.

"Will you come with Barb and me to Steve's house?"

"Harrington house? On a school night?" I say teasingly. "Wheeler, you rebel."

"C'mon, Johanna." She whined. "Please."

"I'm the daughter of the Chief, remember? They don't want me there."

"Steve does!"

I roll my eyes, popping a candy cane into my mouth.

"Yeah, so he can get into your pants."

She hesitates then says, "That's not true!"

"Sorry, Nance. Try and drown Carol for me."

And with that, she hung up.

✮

The following morning, I waited by Barb's locker for fifteen minutes before the bell for first period rang and I realized, she wasn't there. It wasn't like her to miss school.

After fourth period, I finally ran into Nance in the girls' bathroom.

"Hey! Have you seen, Barb?" Nancy asked me.

"No, she wasn't in third," I answered her.

"She wasn't in homeroom either. I asked around and no one else has seen her today."

"Did you ask anyone from her band class?"

"No." She shakes her head. "I haven't seen her since We got to Steve's house last night then she just left."

"Without you?"

That was hard to believe, they are basically attached at the hip. Barb and I are close but they were on a whole other level.

"I went upstairs with Steve for a few minutes, then when I came back down she was gone."

I could understand why she would have left, especially if Nancy went upstairs with Harrington 'for a few minutes'.

"Try calling her house and I'll check the library."

Nancy nodded and we split up. The library was practically empty so even though I knew she wasn't in here, I still checked. On my way back to the courtyard, I ran into one of Barb's friends from band, Robin.

No, literally, I ran into her.

"Ouch! Where did you even come from?" She groaned, holding her shoulder.

"Sorry! Have you seen Barb today?" I asked her.

"Um, no but I'm heading to band practice so, I can let you..."

My brain tuned Robin's voice out because just right behind her head, across the parking lot, I saw Steve drop Jonathan's camera on the cement.

"I gotta go! Thanks!" I yelled before running away.

When I arrived, Steve and his friends were walking back inside with Nancy, leaving Jonathan to pick everything up.

"Nance!" I yelled, hoping she would stay.

"Sorry." She mouthed, following Steve back to the school.

Ripped photographs were lying there too. It didn't take a genius to figure out what these were of. One half-ripened photo of Nancy's naked back with Steve's bedroom walls in the background was under my foot.

"I swear I didn't mean to take those," Jonathan explained. "I was looking for Will last night and-"

"I believe you."

We picked up everything that we could of the camera pieces. That camera meant so much to him and it wasn't a cheap one either. Joyce worked many hours and saved up to get that for his birthday.

Jonathan left afterward, mumbling something about visiting his dad. Angrily, I went back to the school. Originally, I was looking for Nancy, but instead, I found Steve in the gymnasium.

"Harrington!" I yelled, causing all of the basketball players to stop their game and look over.

Reluctantly, he followed me out to the empty hallway.

"What?" He says, trying to come off as pissed.

"What the hell is your issue?" I hissed.

"Right now, it's you."

Is he joking right now? He has to be.

"I have no issue punching that so-called pretty face, Harrington. So, tread lightly." I glare, stepping forward.

The cocky look on his face made me even angrier. I've tried to give him the benefit of the doubt since Nance likes him but I have had it with him.

"That's because Daddy and his buddies down at the station wouldn't dare put cuffs on you." He says, leaning down a little in an attempt to intimidate me.

"Whatever." I scoff, turning around to leave. A larger hand reaches for my wrists, stopping me.

"Tell that little perv to stay away from Nance."

Without hesitation, I lifted my foot and kicked him in the shin. He cussed me out as he hunched over to rub the skin. I bent down enough to be leveled with his ear.

"Don't touch me."

✮

I didn't expect to see my dad tonight so I made myself a snack before work. Forgetting dinner altogether. My vest sat on the couch while I looked around for the name tag. That's when the phone rang.

"Hello?" I answered, pulling the cord all the way to my room.

"Johanna? Hey, it's Nance."

"Hey, I can't talk for long. I have to work tonight. What's up?"

"I called Barb's house but her mom said she doesn't know where she is."

Shit. I tuned out most of what Nancy was saying after that. My heart started pounding in my chest, Will and Barb? Both missing?

"...So, can you try and talk to your dad? Maybe he can find something out."

"Um, yeah. I'll talk to him the next time I see him."

I hung up and raced to the station, forgetting the name tag completely at this point. The police station was fifteen minutes away, and I made it there in under ten.

"Donna! I need to talk to my father!" I told her as soon as I walked in.

"He's not here, honey." She said, not even looking up at me from her desk.

"It's urgent."

"Then file a police report."

Half of me was tempted to jump the counter instead, I walked back to my dad's office to see if he was back there still. Donna was right, he was already gone.

"He's out looking for the Byers boy. I can leave a message." She sighs, following me in here.

"Never mind. I'll talk to him later at home." I huffed, storming out.

"You really are his daughter." She scoffed.

I know, I shouldn't have acted that way but I couldn't help it. Barb was missing and I needed to tell him as soon as possible.

The car was freezing the rest of the way to work. Stupid heat was going out again. When I arrived at work, I got out and hit my tires, mumbling curse words under my breath at it.

"Do you need some help?" The voice startled me.

"No, thanks," I said, turning around. "Robin?"

"Yeah." She laughed, throwing it in the bin.

"You're working here now?"

"Looks like it."

It would be nice to have another girl working here with me. Right now it's only me, Keith, and Nick.

"Did they seriously make you take the trash out in the snow?" I asked, joining her by the dumpster to help her lift the bags.

"Yeah." She laughs, tossing another in.

"Assholes."

We laughed together and headed back into the theater.

✮

"Theater Two, on the left. Enjoy your movie." My voice was flat like the Coca-Cola Robin dispensed into the cups.

"Did you see Barb at band practice today? After I talked to you?" I asked her after everyone else in the lobby left.

"No. Is everything okay?" Her back was still turned, filling up the popcorn machine again.

"Yeah, I just haven't heard from her."

Robin nodded her head but didn't say much after. Keith called her to his office, leaving me in the lobby for a few minutes. I didn't want to lie to her but, I wasn't sure if my hunch was right.

Nick comes up behind me, making me jump.

"Dude, you scared me," I said, noticing the seriousness in his face.

"Johanna..."

There's this dreaded look on Nick's face even though he's avoiding my eyes.

"The cops... um, they found the Byers boy... he didn't make it."

This had to be fake.

Yet, it felt so real.

✮

The following few minutes were hazy. I grabbed my keys and ran out to the parking lot. Robin said something about covering my last few hours for me.

All those years that I mourned a sister I barely got to know, came hurling back at me but only worse because I knew Will. The summers I spent babysitting him, hanging out with him and Jonathan after school, all the memories we had. Moments I can't get back.

The station wasn't far from work and Dad's cop car was parked out front when I pulled in.

"Dad? Where's my dad?" I asked Donna again. I must look like a mess with the empathetic look she gave me before pointing to his office.

"Dad, I heard... I heard about, about Will." I barely choked out.

He let me sob in his arms until I was ready to let go but the truth is, I never want to let go.

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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zombiewhor3 · 2 years ago

Text

DEATH TRAP

daryl dixon x fem reader

WARNINGS: injured daryl, mentions of scars, gun usage, mentions of fighting, death threats, season 1-2 era tbh, mentions of Andrea/Shane

she had been waiting for Daryl to come back from looking for Sophia, she had offered to go with him but she could notice he was distressed at the fact they hadn't found his brother and well that he hadn't had a clue on where the hell she was.

she sat back in one of the cheap lawn chairs that came from Dale's RV as she had been carving a piece of wood with her blade, maybe just until it ran out or maybe she was making a stake.

whatever it was it was out of the boredom and anxiousness of waiting for her boyfriend to come back from his journey, his journey that she knew was dangerous because the woods were filled with walkers and steep hills that could surely kill him if he fell.

she looked up at Andrea who had a straw hat shaped like a cowboys, a dirt stained white tank top and a pair of jeans that obviously needed a fresh wash, she crossed her legs as she cocked her head at the sight of something slipping from the woods.

"Walker!" she called watching as Rick, Shane and Glenn had hopped over the fence, she angled her rifle, "bet i can nail him from here" she spoke with her obvious ego flashing through but Rick had told her hold back that, he had told her to let them handle it.

because after all the noise would trigger more walkers and their camp wasn't very much fit for a one hundred percent guranteed protection for them even if it was littered with barbed wire and wooden fences.

y/n had hopped the fence herself walking towards the walker, she turned to hear the click of a gun the sound of the safety being clicked off by the blonde who sat on top of the RV behind her.

"He told you to stand down! follow the order" she scoffed as she flipped back around pulling out her blade and rushing toward where the three men stood, except they weren't killing the walker they had just been simply standing around it watching it.

it only took her a few more steps to realize that it wasn't a walker but instead it was her boyfriend who was covered in dirt and drenched in water while he had an arrow through his body.

"is that Daryl?" Glenn asked as he had a knife ready in his hand, Rick had pointed his gun at him aiming for dead center of his forehead.

"that's the third time you pointed that thing at my head" he scoffed as he licked his lips clean hearing the others let out a breather of relief once they realized he wasn't a walker.

"Jesus Daryl you scared us thought you were a walker"

she sighed as she tucked away her knife back into her holster before one of the others could get a word in they heard the loud echo of a gun shot rocket through the air around them.

and suddenly he was knocked on the ground, his body out as he flopped back into the grass, y/n let out a scream as she dropped to her knees to see if the bullet had actually hit him.

she swallowed harshly as she rubbed the side of his head feeling some blood emit out onto her fingers, "i was just kidding" he remarked as they helped pick them up from the grass.

y/n could feel some tears being harshly forced back inside her as she looked down at the wounds on his body, a few scrapes and bruises from his arms to his face, an arrow through his torso, and now an almost lethal gun shot wound to the side of his head.

she had watched the others running towards the fence while Glenn had ripped off the walker ears he wore around his neck, Andrea had a look of defeat on her face as she could still see her target walking.

and well her target that wasn't a walker but yet one of them.

"what the hell happened!" Carol yelled as she watched y/n flick her eyes up to the blonde who was now hopping down from the roof of the RV to try and fix her mistake.

"he alright?" was all she asked, not an apology or even a full sense of worry lingering from her, except those two god damn dull words.

"don't worry about it Andrea" y/n scoffed as she and Rick had taken control of carrying his body up to the house, Hershel had followed behind them while he looked at Daryl's blood stained tank top.

Y/n was angry, she was scared and she was so god damn furious, so much that she could feel a wave of anger wanting to erupt like a tsunami on the women who almost killed him.

Daryl was placed down in the bed and stripped of his shirt, Hershel had gotten his table full of tools and Rick had forcefully pulled y/n out of the room so she wouldn't have to watch an arrow being removed from his body, she bit at her nails nervously.

Rick had noticed her distress and hadn't left her side even if it meant him sitting there for hours while Hershel fixed and cleaned up the wound to make sure it hadn't gotten infected.

and the subtle three hours had felt like eternity to her, because she couldn't stop pacing and wanting to get a glance through the door, even some of the others had come to comfort her all except the women half responsible for almost killing him.

and once the bedroom door was opened she could see Hershel pulling off a latex glove and patting y/n on the shoulder, without even such a hesitation she was sitting on the edge of the bed looking at him, looking at his bandages and scrapes and bruises.

"what happened?" she asked watching him lick over his lips before actually responding the full story of how he ended up like this.

"well that damn horse got scared and threw me off a cliff and i landed on an arrow, as for the walker ears i wanted a trophy" he spoke feeling as she got closer so she could rub the side of his cheek.

she frowned softly at the wound as she looked over at it, "don't be sad it was just a simple scratch and tumble" he spoke taking her hand in his and trying to soothe her.

"just a scratch? she almost killed you and well for the arrow you could've died if it hit one of your organs Daryl" she watched him smile a little almost like he was amused by it.

"i'm fine just a little sleepy that's all, promise you won't worry while i catch up on some sleep please?" he asked rubbing over the top of her hand while he could feel her gently pull away.

she nodded at him standing up from the bed and peppering a kiss on his forehead, she turned out the lamp and softly shut the door behind her, and with that she checked to see if her gun was loaded.

and it was, she had a full round left over, a full round that meant there was enough to maybe take over on walker duty because the obvious woman in control couldn't do her job right.

she thanked Hershel who sat in a reclining chair reading an old book, he smiled and replied with a simple nod at her gesture of thanks, he watched her slip out of the door her gun tucked away from his view.

she could see the others still around as the sun was just now barely setting, it was still quite visible in the sky making the day still alive as they now sat around to enjoy one another's presence and maybe just to wait on answers on how Daryl was doing.

"he's fine, he's just sleeping" she spoke to the group as she patted Glenn on the shoulder and moved along to where Andrea sat, now she was lower on the ground and not on top of the RV.

she ripped the rifle from her hands as she tossed it to where the others were sitting, Andrea had her hand on her knife to which y/n had pulled out her pistol placing it in between her eyes.

"c'mon try it" she hissed watching as her hands went away from her knife and into the air to show she wasn't going to try anything.

"woah! what the hell are you doing?!" Shane announced as he adjusted the police cap on his head watching as y/n's gaze focused on the curly blonde in front of her.

"what the hell am i doing? what the hell was she doing? Rick gave you an order and you ignored it, you could've killed Daryl, and you didn't even say anything close to an apology"

she could see Shane reach for her belt but she had placed the gun in his direction watching him back down before she focused back on Andrea who's pupils were dilated in fear.

"he looked like a walker not my fault" she remarked back at y/n watching her eyebrows raise as the tip of the gun was moved to now the dead center of her forehead making the others look around in a quite nervous terror at one another.

"you ever and i mean ever pull any of this bullshit on me or Daryl or even another one of us and so help me i'll place a bullet in you and i promise you i won't miss my target like you"

y/n remarked placing her gun back in the leather holster she could see the others staring at her like she was a monster like she was crazy but she hadn't felt anything for her, she hadn't felt anything but stupidity for trusting her.

Shane had grabbed her arm to pull her away, "are you crazy?" he hissed bitterly in a slight whisper, her eyes flicked up at him as she looked away with a roll of them.

"don't touch me or i'll put a bullet in you" she huffed as she snatched her arm away from his grasp and taking a few steps back so she could manage her way away from him.

"whatever freak show you have with him doesn't mean you can come and start waving a god damn gun in our face you hear me!" Shane shouted stepping even closer while she now was starting to step away even Rick had noticed him growing closer and closer.

"Shane back the hell away it's not your decision, let it be she did what she did even if it was wrong or right it was it is now back away"

she felt good that rick was standing up for her, but also she could sense she had been a fool to start waving a gun in someones face.

but she reminded herself that someone she loved could have been gone within a few split seconds because of her foolishness, because she didn't know how to properly follow an order she was given.

Shane had backed away poking his tongue in his bottom lip as he softly huffed at the idea of her placing a gun in her face, y/n gulped as she looked around at the others.

"i had my reasons, what if she killed him? you know how devastated we would be if he died! how devastated i would be? i'm not going to let her risk our lives! Rick you gave her an order and she still didn't stand down when you told her to!"

she watched as Glenn looked down at his shoes sinking into the dirt because he knew she was right, Dale seemed to look back and forth at both girls and Rick rubbed over the stubble of his beard while the others still remained keeping their eyes on her.

"hand over the gun" Rick spoke watching as y/n scoffed and raised her eyebrows at his demand, "no!" she uttered in disbelief at him.

"give me the gun, we don't kill the living y/n!" he yelled while he gestured his hand out for the pistol, "you get it back when you're out scavenging or hunting that's it you want safety i'm giving it to you right now so take the deal and move on"

he made a deal with her to which she un-holstered her gun and clicked on the safety while pressing it harshly into the bare cracked palm of his hand.

she watched Carol slip out of the bedroom as she set a plate of dinner in front of both of them and left with just a soft smile.

y/n had always liked Carol, she liked the way she cared for Daryl and the way she was like a mother to her, the way she was so kind and so sweet and well the way she was so homely even in the end of the world where flesh eating monsters roamed, even when her husband died and her own daughter had gone missing.

Daryl quickly stuffed his face with the food because truly he had barely been eating, unless you count raw squirrel intestines and to which they weren't very filling for him.

not with how long he had been walking through the woods, and fighting off walkers, which is why by the time y/n had actually taken her first bite he was done with half of the plate.

he could notice something was off, he could notice she was playing with her food while she stared down and kept avoiding eye contact each time he tried to pry her eyes to look at his.

"what happened while i was out?" he asked watching as she took a bite of a green bean on her plate swallowing it down harshly and poking her fork around the plate with a sad silence.

"y/n what happened while i was sleeping?" he asked this time rubbing her thigh while his thumb skimmed against the clad fabric of the dirty blue jeans she had been wearing for days.

"got my damn gun taken by Rick" she spoke flicking her eyes to look up at the man who had his brows furrowed while he was still stuffing his face with some of the food brought in by Carol.

"i threatened Andrea and Shane so he said i can only have it during scavenging and hunting, besides Andrea could've killed someone, and what if she did, we don't kill her for it?"

y/n spoke pushing the plate of food away as she looked at his plate now empty without even such as a speck left on the white porcelain.

"you're angry i get it, remember when i tried to kill that one dude back in the city but Rick told me no, because he took Glenn and i was so angry, i don't blame you y/n" he spoke with a soft smile.

"she deserves to pay for the mistake maybe not death but when i walked out there she still had that damn rifle in her hands, no one even thought to take it from her, she didn't even think to come and apologize for almost killing you Daryl."

she almost wanted to cry but he put the plates on the night stand and pulled her into his arms, he shushed her softly as one of his hands stroked over the top of her hair.

"in the end it'll happen, maybe not now but someday she'll learn from the mistake just like we do, just like i've learned not to ride horses" he joked hearing a soft sniffle and giggle come from her.

he peppered a kiss on the back of her neck.

"and i've learned to never give her a rifle"

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