#STEVE IS LIKE AN OLDER BROTHER FIGURE TO DUSTIN RIGHT????
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thinking about dustin clinging to steve even more because he doesnt want to lose another older brother figure :(
#dustin henderson#steve harrington#byler#<— target audience#stranger things#stranger things 5#st5#st5 scenarios#STEVE IS LIKE AN OLDER BROTHER FIGURE TO DUSTIN RIGHT????#couldnt think of a title 💀
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just rewatched the first two httyd movies and I can't get the idea of Steve and Eddie as stoick and valka out of my head... the dancing and the dreaming scene, them both unknowingly echoing each other while believing the other dead/incapable of change... this scene:
(taken from a meme cause I couldn't find a gif of this exchange)
just,,, steve seeing eddie for the first time in so long and how can he be mad when the love of his life is here, with him, again, something he never thought he'd see until he crossed the threshold of Valhalla?
(also steve doesn't die in this au bc fuck that noise)
#shut up anna#st tag#steddie#idk who hiccup would be in this au--either dustin or max but im leaning towards max rn#and steve and eddie would obvs not be 1:1 to stoick and valka bc i like steve as an older brother instead of a parent figure#too much to do away with#but i can see eddie saying 'stop being so stoic--shout scream say something!' so fucking clearly jesus#and steve just tells him the truth: hes just as beautiful as the day he lost him#they will have time to talk later. right now steve gets to hold a living breathing eddie and any hurt is gossamer thin and fading#anyway
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Late night fic idea that I'm definitely going to try and write at some point!!
Definitely very angsty. Steve's got bad parents. A few arguments. And Steve basically restarting his adult life. But it would definitely have a happy ending! Walk with me here.
In early 1987, Steve gets into a nasty argument with his parents. About how much of a disappointment he is, how he can't hold a good enough job, that he's just not who they wanted him to be. They tell him, pretty loudly, that if he can't grow up, then he needs to get out.
He, of course, is very upset by the result of this argument. Because he's trying his damn hardest at this whole adult thing. He's trying his damn hardest to be the person everybody wants him to be; the older brother, the best friend, the boyfriend—the good guy. Yet, even though he's completely emotionally devastated, he still goes to Eddie's because they have a date.
He's not very attentive during the date. Ignoring Eddie's comments sometimes. Giving half answers. And Eddie takes it the opposite of something wrong with Steve—no, he thinks there's something wrong with him. They end up having their own nasty, explosive argument. One that ends with Eddie muttering something along the lines of, "God, I hate you so much right now." He doesn't mean it, knows he doesn't mean it because it's too easy to just say a bullshit claim than talk it all out, hash it out as it is, figure out the root of the problem. However, Steve doesn't know this. Steve thinks Eddie means it.
Thinks that Eddie's just been putting on this interested facade to save Steve's lonely, battered heart. That maybe the novelty of their relationship ran out a long time ago. Eddie's just now telling it as it is; the same way Nancy had. A bullshit relationship, one that never meant anything. (And similar to Nancy, they don't really mean it. It's all just moment of passion stuff).
Steve leaves Eddie's. Leaves with his heart dropped out of him, wet and dead on Eddie's carpet. He leaves with bile in the back of his throat, eyes that ache, a head that's too messy to sort through. And then, the only idea that becomes clear to him: he has to get out.
Get out of Hawkins.
Because if Eddie was thinking something like that all along, who else has been thinking the same thing? Dustin? Max? Robin?
He goes to work. Submits a letter of resignation. Gives the courtesy of two more weeks. And then...
He packs all that he thinks he needs in a couple bags: a backpack and a duffel bag. He sells his car, the only money he now has to his name, plus whatever his last Family Video paycheck is. Steve gets on the closest bus, one that'll take him to a shuttle, and he takes a train out of Indiana.
Goes west. Goes to a shitty neighborhood in Sacramento, as far as he can get. He got the transfer request sent over to a Family Video here, he'll start there soon. He stays in a hotel for a couple nights, a couple nights before he finds a last minute lease for a shitty apartment.
And he just stays there. Stays in Sacramento.
He calls Robin's house once on a payphone, that way he can't be tracked. Robin's not home when he calls. He gives a message to her mom: "Tell Robin that I'm sorry. And...and that I love"—he'd sigh—"Yeah. Yeah, just tell her that I'm sorry, please. I did what I had to." He hangs up, doesn't give another way for him to be contacted and he moves on.
Some years pass. He hasn't been taking care of himself all that well, it's noticeable in how he looks. Scraggly facial hair, heavy eyes, lanky and skinny body, he's mowed down most of his hair. Just looks like an imposter in his own skin. He's working a different dead-end retail job—some supermarket, one that's owned by a corporation, he's one in thousands; somebody not cared for. His social life is nothing. He's weird around other people, weird in general; trauma that's been left unsolved, nightmares that keep him awake (so his neighbors now have a vendetta against him), stares too hard, doesn't like to talk anymore. He's hollow. A man who nobody knows, no connotations, no stupid hierarchies or nicknames attached to him. He's just Steve Harrington, some guy.
Yet, in the time he's been there, he takes up a few hobbies. Ones that work well with his secluded lifestyle. He picks up painting and photography. Things he never thought he'd be interested in. But...but he gets too bored, so he tries.
Finds out that he's good. Finds out that he's good enough for his own small studio space. For a small exhibit in the local art museum. And there, on the floor of his exhibit, idling between people who want to know more about the guy that keeps showing up in his paintings: brown eyes and pink mouth and smiles that are too big for his face; and the woman: a bob with bangs, crystal blue eyes, and a kindness that shows in her soft smiles; it's there that he sees an all too familiar face.
Eddie meets his eyes. Older, grown into his body, same brown eyes, same long curly hair. And there's a sheen of tears in his stare. A recognition he never thought he'd receive.
And there's silence. People passing them by.
Until, when the exhibit is empty except for them, Steve can only muster a simple, "Hey." And a smile, something thin that doesn't feel very real. Didn't want to be found, not yet. But in the paintings, he's been dreaming; he's been searching.
From the entryway of another exhibit, one that connects to Steve's, Robin appears. She's got that '90s pixie. And cherry stained lips. Grunge eyeshadow and an ill fitting, hole-riddled t-shirt that Steve slowly realizes is one he wore; those red Converse from Scoops, faded black Sharpie, but the only text that's still dark (as if it's been written over and over) is one he put there: "Dingus was here". She doesn't even speak. Only knows. Tripping over her own feet, dashing across the waxed floor, sliding across it with clumsy limbs. Crashing straight into Steve, hefting him up in her arms, squeezing him so tight he can't breathe.
When she places him back down on the ground, standing side by side with Eddie, the two of them simply staring at him in awe and relief, Eddie finally speaks for the two of them.
He fucking speaks. His voice is dripping with relief, yearning rich and honey-sweet in the vowels. Words full of love that's been stirring slow like a stew in his heart, thick and clogging.
"There you are, sweetheart. There you are."
#stranger things#steddie#platonic stobin#steve harrington#eddie munson#angst and hurt/comfort#eventual happy ending#fic idea
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episode six: the spy
Steve looks like a kicked puppy as you storm ahead of him and Dustin, putting enough distance between you guys so that you can’t hear their conversion that follows. “Shit…” “You’re awful with women.” Dustin says, now continuing to walk. He doesn’t bother to follow after you, knowing that you need your space to cool down. “I wouldn’t follow her, by the way. Let her cool off.” Steve sighs, now walking as well, “Yeah, I know.”
Summary: dustin and steve haggle a butcher, you throw some meat at steve and then have a weird conversation about love, you stop dustin from becoming an incel, and then you wrestle some demodogs like any real woman would. side note: steve is hot protecting the kids.
Rating: general, violence and swearing
Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, violence and swearing, blood mention and ptsd mention, weapons, fire, probably more
Words: 17.1k (i fear how much longer these next few chapters become)
Before you swing in: its here !!! god, this chapter was ROUGH. the conversations between bug and steve took many rewrites and editing. i wanted to get it just right, and finally i think im satisfied with where they landed. bug and steve aside, i absolutely loved writing this chapter with the kids. i sincerely hope you guys enjoy, this chapter took blood, sweat, n tears lmao
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You’re the first to break the silence as you all stare at the hole Dart created in the wall in shock.
An obnoxiously loud yawn escapes your lips, and Dustin and Steve shoot you simultaneous weird glances. You feel your face heat up in embarrassment. “Sorry… It’s been a long day.”
Steve huffs. “Yeah, no kidding.”
Dustin clears his throat before standing up. He wipes off some dirt that got on his jeans and then offers you his hand so that he can pull you up as well. You accept it and stand, your bones a deep, weary type of heavy that only comes from pure exhaustion.
“Okay,” Dustin begins, and you can already see a plan forming in his mind. “Steve, you’ll spend the night here so that way we can all get up bright and early to start our search for Dart.”
Steve attempts to argue, but Dustin puts his hand up to shush him and continues with his speech. The older boy throws his hands up in the air and gives you a look of disbelief over your brother’s antics. You stifle a laugh, which he only rolls his eyes at. Steve, whether he likes it or not, will have to get used to Dustin’s… Dustin-ness.
“If he escaped through the tunnel, then we have to assume that there’s an opening somewhere above ground.” Dustin finishes.
You nod your head slowly, still unconvinced. “Okay, but how do we find him? Better yet, what happens when we do? It took Nancy with a shotgun, my knives, Steve’s batting skills, a ton of fire, and almost dying a bunch of times to take down the Demogorgon.”
Dustin lets out a tired sigh. “I’ll figure it all out, alright? For now, let’s just get some sleep. Maybe it’ll come to me in a dream or something.”
“A dream? Seriously?” Steve looks at the two of you as if you guys will start laughing and tell him it’s all a giant joke. Unfortunately, it isn’t.
Steve spent all last year and most of the summer getting to know you. He’s used to your quips and soft spoken teasing, but Dustin? He’s uncharted territory and you’re secretly relishing in seeing Steve fumble around him. You’ve never had anyone else interact with your brother before, only Jonathan, so this change is odd, but welcomed.
Dustin pays no attention to you and Steve as he begins heading up the steps, back to your home. Once he disappears, you nudge your shoulder against Steve’s. “You know you don’t actually have to spend the night, right?”
“Ya know, I can’t quite tell if the kid will let me leave or not.”
You laugh. “He’s harmless… Mostly. I promise I won’t let him bite, but I also understand if you want to leave.”
Steve looks away, sensing the undertones of what you’re saying. You’re giving him another out, one last chance to leave and go back to pretending like everything's okay. You wouldn’t blame him, and you get a sense of deja-vu from that night at Jonathan’s. When you tried coaxing Steve to leave, to spare himself from everything he inevitably ended up suffering from.
After a minute or so, Steve shakes his head. “I’ll stay. You need my help.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say need–”
“Shut up and let me help you, Y/N.”
You sigh. There’s no arguing with him, he’s made up his mind and your truce that you shook on ten minutes ago burns your hand. He’s staying.
“A ‘please’ would’ve sufficed, but fine.” You link your arm around Steve’s and make your way up the cellar steps. “C’mon, Dustin is probably waiting for us with some new insane plan for where you’ll sleep.”
–
You know that your mom is safe, off at the other side of town, searching for your dead cat, but it’s still lonely walking into your empty home. Dustin is standing in the living room waiting, but you can see that it makes him uneasy as well.
Steve follows behind you and takes a look around. When he spots the lumpy, old, sagging couch in front of the window, he frowns. It’s barely bigger than he is, his feet would definitely hang over the edge. “This my bed for tonight?”
“It’ll have to be, unless you want to come snuggle with me in my bed.” Dustin says.
“I wouldn’t, he kicks in his sleep,” you tell Steve, attempting to make light of the situation.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” he snorts. Then, as if he’s done this a million times before, Steve flings himself onto your couch and his feet do indeed hang over the edge. “Oh, yeah. This will definitely be cozy.”
You wince. “I’m sorry, you’re still free to go home. I completely understand and–”
“Unless…” Dustin begins to brighten up and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Pure horror washes over you; you know that look on his face. He’s scheming.
“Dustin, whatever is about to come out of your mouth–”
“Y/N has this giant bean bag in her room. Practically takes up the whole space, and, luckily for you, my new friend, it’s Steve-sized.”
Steve whips his head to face you, a curious look on his face. “You don’t say, Little Henderson?”
Both boys look at you, a matching glint of evil in their eyes, and you realize you’re trapped. When did they manage to sync up to make you miserable?
You weigh your options against your morals. On one hand, it’s your room and you and Steve are still warming back up to each other. However, on the other hand, Jonathan has spent countless nights on that bean bag himself.
Dustin’s right. Steve would fit perfectly.
Damn him.
You shuffle your feet, averting Steve’s eyes. “I mean, I guess you’d fit.”
“You guess? Steve, she’s had Jonathan sleep on that thing like a bajillion times.” Dustin waves his arms out, gleeful that he’s won. “In fact, I think our mom specifically bought it just for him.”
He now steps closer to Steve and eyes him up and down. “I’d bet money that you two are about the same size, so as I stated earlier: it’s Steve-sized.”
“I’m actually taller than him, so…” Steve mumbles to no one in particular, but quickly clears his throat and changes the subject. “And I’d finally be able to see Y/N Henderson’s room? Count me in.”
You blush furiously. He’s getting a kick out of all of this and he’s such a little shit, honestly. You’re not sure why the thought of having Steve Harrington in your room, eager to be in your room, makes your stomach flutter and your cheeks burn painfully.
Steve sees your blush and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “C’mon, Y/N. It’ll be like a sleepover.”
“You’re far too pleased about all of this.”
“We can pretend to be back at Bookstrordinary. I’ll even stack some books that you definitely have in your room.”
Dustin stands between you and Steve, his face alight with joy and curiosity. “Can I please know when you two became best friends?”
“No, you hid Dart from me.”
“I’m not gonna live that down, am I?”
“Nope.”
Steve clears his throat, clearly amused by your banter with Dustin but still unsure about everything going on. “So… What do ya say, Y/N?”
You bite your lip and look at him. He’s pathetically too large for the couch, it wouldn’t be fair to just force him to sleep there because of the weird way he makes you feel as if you’re floating yet falling all at the same time.
Exhaling, you give in. “Fine, but do not touch any of my books in the room.”
“Yes!” Steve high fives Dustin and you roll your eyes at them both.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. It’s late, can we please just go to bed now?”
Dustin sends you a wink, which thankfully Steve doesn’t see. “Sure, sis. Have a good night.”
And with that, probably because he senses you’re about to throw a shoe at him, Dustin flees the living room and runs to his room. As soon as he’s gone, Steve bats his eyelashes at you and playfully teases, “Take me to bed, Y/N.”
You snort, despite how exhausted you are. “Never say those words to me again.”
He laughs and stands up, following behind you as you guide him towards your own room. A part of you feels like you should give him a house tour, but logistically it’d be useless. You can’t imagine that Steve would be over at your house again once the Dart situation is handled.
You have to remind yourself that there are still roses for Nancy, currently wilting, in the backseat of Steve’s car.
They’ll work things out eventually, or maybe they won’t, but Nancy Wheeler still has Steve Harrington’s heart. He is her’s entirely.
Lost in thought, you almost miss the turn to your room and have to grab the back of Steve’s jacket and yank him towards your bedroom door.
“Hey–”
“Sorry, my room is here.”
“You Hendersons are just a delightful bunch, ya know that?”
“Be thankful you don’t have to meet our mother, honestly.” You fling your bedroom door open and gently push Steve inside.
As soon as he’s in your room, you watch as he takes it all in. His eyes scan every corner of the room, and you hold your breath as you wait for them to land on the Spider-Man poster he gave you for Christmas last year.
When Steve sees it, he smiles shyly at you. “I see you kept the gift.”
“Duh,” you walk over to your bed and sit down. “Still one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given.”
“One of?” He asks, tone light but curious.
Unconsciously, your fingers go to your bee necklace from Jonathan. You play with the pendant and smile softly. “Sorry, Jonathan kinda beat you to it.”
“I figured,” he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, uncomfortable. “I noticed the necklace the day I gave you the poster. Didn’t want to, uh, assume. I guess. But the necklace was from him?”
“It was,” you clear your throat, talking about Jonathan with Steve has always been such a foreign feeling for you.
Steve seems to be thinking the same thing and starts to wander around your room instead. You silently thank whatever god is up there for giving you the motivation to clean your room earlier that week. Normally you’re a neat person, but ever since Will started showing signs of post-traumatic stress, you’ve spent more time obsessively researching rather than tidying up.
Therefore, there’s still books strewn across your desk alongside some comics. Steve sees a Spidey one and holds it up with a laugh. “He’s everywhere.”
“He is.” You say proudly, now getting up to go into your closet to pull out the blankets and pillows usually reserved for Jonathan.
Steve wanders around some more as you dig through your closet. He lingers in front of your dresser, which holds photos of you, Dustin, and Jonathan.
“Here,” you hand the bedding to Steve and motion to where the bean bag is.
He looks up from a photo of you and Jonathan from last year. It’s your favorite of the two of you, he stands behind you in the picture with his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. You’re both smiling widely at the camera, the moment captured by Will because he wanted to try out the camera Jonathan had gotten that summer.
“You guys are really close, huh?” Steve asks.
You nod, although confused by his question. He spent half the summer with you and Jonathan at your job. You had conversations about your friendship together, but you suppose it’s different seeing the excess of love you have for the boy within your room. Jonathan is everywhere, if you look hard enough, you’ll find him.
Steve pauses for a second, as if he wants to say something else, but shakes his head and turns towards the bean bag. He arranges the pillows so that they’re flush against the wall facing your bed, which you think is an odd choice, but say nothing. Once he’s arranged the pillows and blankets, Steve turns to you and clears his throat.
“I hate to ask this, I really do, but I also don’t want to sleep in these jeans,” he waves his hands over his pants, which have always been a bit tighter than you thought was necessary. “Any chance I could wear something of Jonathan’s?”
You think for a moment and dig through your dresser. “I’m not sure, but if I can’t find anything of his then I think my old camp t-shirt can fit. As for pants, won’t your boxers work fine?”
Steve’s face turns red and he clears his throat once more, speaking in a slightly squeaky voice, “Y–yeah, I guess so.”
He’s stumbling over his words, which makes you pause. There’s no possible way that he’s nervous right now. He’s usually so confident and comfortable around you. Hell, last summer he offered to be your first kiss (by kissing his fingers and pressing them against your lips, but still).
“Are you shy right now, Steve?”
“What? No!” He scrambles to the other side of the room, putting as much distance between the two of you as he can.
You raise your eyebrows at him, but your cheeks are flushed as well. “Okay then, whatever you say.”
It’s painfully quiet after that as you continue looking for something for Steve to wear. You swear that Jonathan has left behind some of his things, and right before you lose hope, you spot a pair of gray sweats and an old The Clash t-shirt of his.
“Here,” you toss the clothes to Steve without even checking if he’s looking. You hear a crash and know that he, in fact, had not been looking.
“Gee, thanks.” He says sarcastically, but you giggle.
“No problem,” you begin to gather your own pajamas before pointing towards your door. “There’s a bathroom to the left, down the hall. You can change there.”
“Then our sleepover can commence?”
You wave him off, but you smile anyway at his question. You missed his boyish charms. “Sure, buddy. Go change.”
Steve salutes you and then leaves the room, softly closing the door behind him. You change while he’s gone and tie your hair up. After a few minutes, you assume Steve has had enough time to change and make your way over to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth. You’re so excited to go to bed.
However, the door is closed when you approach, meaning Steve is still changing. You knock on the door, “Are you almost done in there?”
“I’m having… problems.”
Your hand hovers over the door, mid knock. “Problems?”
There’s only silence for a moment, almost as if Steve is contemplating elaborating. Finally, after several seconds, he says “I’m definitely taller than Byers.”
You roll your eyes and begin knocking again, just to annoy Steve, until he finally swings the door open. Before you can even stop it, a loud laugh escapes you. The sweats are at least five inches too short on him, while Jonathan’s shirt is a size too small. He looks absolutely ridiculous.
“It’s not funny!” Steve whines, his face once again red. “I thought you gave me Jonathan’s clothes, Y/N!”
More laughter escapes you, making your ribs begin to hurt. Every time you try to speak, you laugh even harder, and it’s impossible for you to get any words out. Steve watches, not amused in the slightest, and crosses his arms as if to appear more dignified.
“I’m sorry,” you manage to gasp out, more laughs threatening to spill from you. “I guess they’re clothes from when he was fourteen.”
“I’m reconsidering our truce from earlier.”
This gets you to stop laughing, and you gasp and smack Steve’s chest. “You wouldn’t dare!”
He sighs, hanging his head low. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“Exactly,” his admission makes you giddy. ��Now, either make yourself cozy in the bean bag or watch as I brush my teeth. Your choice.”
Steve shrugs and steps to the side so that there’s room for you to enter the bathroom. It’s a tight fit, but he ends up sitting on the edge of the tub and just watches as you begin the process of brushing your teeth. “I didn’t actually think you’d stay, ya know.”
“I know, but I’m bored and you’re here.”
You spit into the sink. “Fair, I guess.”
“Plus,” he picks at his nails, trying to look disinterested while wearing Jonathan’s too small clothes. “We still need to have that talk.”
You pause, toothbrush hanging from your lips as you stare at Steve, wide eyed, in the mirror. Honestly, you were hoping he would’ve forgotten about that. It’s not that you don’t want to know whatever he has to tell you, but you’re tired and still reeling over the fact that he’s spending the entire night in your room.
“Oh, right.” Turning the faucet off, you finish brushing your teeth and awkwardly wipe your face. Steve watches quietly, and once you’re done, you motion for him to follow you back towards your room.
As soon as you’re back in your room, Steve immediately curls himself upon the bean bag and brings the blanket all the way up to his chin. Dustin, as always, is right: the bean bag truly is Steve-sized. “Cozy.”
You laugh at him as you crawl into your own bed. “Yeah, I’d hope so. Jonathan has slept in it for years now.”
“Well, uh. Speaking of Jonathan…” Steve sits up a bit so that he can properly look at you. “I wanted to talk. Ya know… About you and him. Nancy, too.”
He pauses, furrows his brows, and then adds. “Actually, I want to talk about what really happened this summer. Everything. I want to know everything.”
“Everything is a lot,” you dodge, turning away from the boy.
Steve sighs. “Y/N… I missed you.”
Missed.
“I want to be friends again, be how we were before, but… I don’t know. There was a lot unsaid between us. Even from the start. I mean, I understand. I do.” His eyes never leave yours, despite how much you try not to look back at him. “You’re, well–If we’re going to be friends again, I want to start from the beginning.”
“The beginning?”
Now Steve is the one who looks away. “I don’t know, it’s stupid, I guess–”
“It’s not stupid, Steve.” You reassure him. He’s trying, he’s inviting you in after everything you did to him, and it’s all you could’ve asked for.
But you’re fucking terrified.
You and Steve became close before, sure, but it was something more surface level. An act between the two of you. While Steve was able to read you over time, learning and asking and paying attention to you, there was still so much you never let him in on. What you haven’t let anyone in on, besides Jonathan.
If you start from the beginning with Steve, someone you know has come to view you as this selfless and kind person, you’re scared that it’ll change the way he sees you.
But Steve is looking at you from the bean bag, looking ridiculously cozy with the blanket wrapped around him and his usually carefully curated hair has fallen in his eyes; his gaze is open and trusting. There isn’t a pressure behind it, he would understand if you backed down, but you promised him you’d try.
To try is to be human.
And you really, really missed Steve.
“I moved here when I was twelve. My family and I had moved all the way from Virginia after the divorce. I remember being really mean, back then. An angry kid with all this hurt within her that she perpetually displaced upon everyone else.”
“Angry?” Steve asks, his voice soft.
You shift uncomfortably in bed, but you remind yourself that you agreed to this. If you’re going to begin again with Steve, then he deserves to know the true person he’s befriending. “Angry. I didn’t take the divorce well. At all. I acted out a lot, closed myself off, and was just a fucking awful person.”
Shifting again, you take a deep breath. “My anger got to the point where Dustin, who was nine, had to practically plead with me to be nicer to him. He was a kid.”
“So were you,” Steve gently chimes in, but you roll your eyes at him.
“Being a kid didn’t give me an excuse to abandon my loved ones like I did. Like my father did. It wasn’t until Dustin called me out on my bullshit that I realized the irony of the situation. There I was, blaming everyone else for my own problems and running away, because I was so hurt by my father doing the same to me.”
Steve clenches his jaw, and you know he wants to say more, but you watch as he exhales deeply and decides against it. “Okay, so you were mean and then you became kind again after something traumatic… So what?”
“I’m sorry?”
“I mean,” the boy sighs. “I was a dick for like, ten consecutive years. It took losing a fight to Jonathan, embarrassing myself in front of Nancy at least five times, losing my bullshit ‘friends’ Tommy and Carol, and some blonde guy with a fucking mullet before I was even able to become a decent person.”
You frown. “What’s your point?”
“My point is that you came back.” Steve shrugs. “The second someone you loved asked you to, you came back to being the selfless angel that you are. Which, by the way, is an impressive feat in itself.”
He says this as if it’s obvious and that the months you spent hurting everyone around you can be redeemed. As if you haven’t spent every waking hour tirelessly devoting every piece of yourself to those around you to make up for them. To repent for your anger.
Steve takes your silence as more defiance, and he runs a tired hand through his hair. He’s merely a few feet from you, at the foot of your bed on the bean bag, and yet it feels as if he’s inches yet yards away. “I know I can’t change your mind, but… I think that’s what matters the most in the end, ya know? You became kind.”
“So did you,” you finally say, not quite ready to accept what he’s saying.
Now it’s Steve who looks away. “Still working on the whole ‘kind’ thing.”
“Isn’t that what matters in the end?” You tease, feeling yourself warm with pride when you get him to laugh.
“Touche.”
Silence falls over the two of you, letting the tension lazily slip away for now. Your body hums with energy; the only other person you’ve told about your father to is Jonathan. You both have long since bonded over shitty father figures. However, even when you had whispered these truths to Jonathan back when you were thirteen, you don’t remember feeling quite so raw and vulnerable as you do right now with Steve.
“I meant it, you know,” you catch Steve’s eye. “Back when you first drove me home last year. You’re alright. Not too shabby, honestly.”
This time a full body laugh cascades through the boy, He clutches at his stomach as he doubles over, breathless with joy. “Thanks, Y/N.”
Steve is still laughing and this is the happiest you think you’ve seen him in months. The realization makes all the warmth you’ve felt earlier, vanish. You remember the hurt on his face earlier this week on Halloween, the tears in his eyes when he confessed that Nancy didn’t love him.
You know how plagued Steve is about never being good enough, and for the first time since you’ve truly gotten to know him: you understand him in that very moment.
Your eye catches on Steve’s adam’s apple as he swallows. It’s a tragedy, really, how attractive he is. You suppose it’s what caused his downfall, in the end. A pretty boy, rich and popular yet easily able to be taken down; it must be a lonely life with all that vulnerability.
“Can I tell you a secret?” You whisper, voice cutting through the darkness of your room as Steve seems to remember where he is, why and how the conversation started in the first place.
“Always,”
“I’m scared of the compulsive need I feel to take care of everyone. It’s like… I don’t know, this debt that I feel I owe for existing, for the fear I feel because of my father leaving. I overcompensate for this fear now, terrified I’ll become mean again.”
Steve stares at your ceiling. “The whole ‘debt’ thing, I understand. Believe me. Rather than being a perfect angel, however, I just try my fucking hardest not to disappoint everyone around me and make them leave.”
Nancy, as she always seems to do, lingers between you and Steve now; you both can feel her presence without him having to say her name. He told you what she did to him, you tried to reassure him that it hadn’t been his fault, but Steve isn’t an idiot.
Nancy never loved him. He knows this, now.
You don’t say anything, you don’t think he’d want you to. Giving him some time, you allow Steve a few minutes to collect his thoughts, sensing he has more to say. Then, softly, he whispers back to you, “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Always,” you echo.
“I just want to be loved.”
With just one confession, a string of six words in succession, Steve Harrington crushes you.
The words come crashing upon your chest and you wish you could tell him how easily you see yourself falling for him. How, even if you can’t admit it just yet, you’re already falling for him. You think you have been for some time now.
Somewhere, in between him driving you home last year and the way the summer sun kissed his face months later, you began to fall in love with him.
While you’re thinking this, Steve is laying in the bean bag, absolutely terrified of the words that have come out of his mouth. He’s always had the fear, deep down, that he was unlovable, but to admit the fear out loud… He’s never felt so weak before.
You’re silent and Steve thinks he’s finally done it. His pathetic need to be liked and loved by everyone around him has finally scared you away. How couldn’t it scare you away? You so naturally are loved by everyone while Steve compulsively demands it because he’s still that scared ten year old boy with a father who never showed him love.
Then, because you’re an angel, you give Steve the response he hadn’t even known he needed to hear. “It’s natural to want to be loved. We all do. It’s human.”
He exhales at your words, still staring at the ceiling as if to somehow lessen the impact of what you’re telling him. There’s something there, hanging in the air after your words have disappeared, that Steve can’t quite understand.
It almost sounded like you were trying to reassure yourself, as well.
“What’s the deal with you and Jonathan?” Though Steve’s voice is steady, you can tell that he’s trying not to sound too interested.
The question is a simple one, but it’s the hardest question you’ve ever had to answer. Everyone asks you, sooner or later, if you and Jonathan are together. You never blame them for asking, because ultimately the two of you are closer than the average friends, regardless of gender.
It doesn’t make the question any less painful to answer, though. It doesn’t make hearing Jonathan’s laugh cut any less deeper.
As for Steve, he’s asked this question before, albeit with teasing and disbelief whenever you’ve told him there’s nothing there. Despite the numerous times you’ve corrected him, he’s never quite believed you.
This time, it feels different. There’s a weight behind Steve’s question, and your silence is all the answer that he needs. “You love him.”
The words aren’t a question, and they harbor no malice. He says them as if they are a fact; you suppose that it is. You don’t say anything, but you do nod your head at him. “I do… I think I’ve always loved him, honestly.”
You’ve never, ever said those words out loud. Not to anyone.
And now, you’re confessing them to Steve, who doesn’t have to ask you why your voice now holds melancholy within it. He knows, he’s always somehow known. Jonathan doesn’t love you, a fact in which Steve has never been able to wrap his head around. He’s watched the two of you for years, how easily you love one another, and yet somehow the love never blossomed into something more.
Everything stills between you and Steve, allowing both your confessions to surround the two of you. “I’m sorry.”
Steve’s apology only causes you to shrug. “He’s still mine, at least for now. Is that so bad?”
“I mean, I guess not, but… Doesn’t it get exhausting?”
“God,” you squeeze your eyes shut, finally able to voice all you’ve been feeling to someone who can understand. “It feels like this crushing weight upon me every time I see him smile, like it’s a burden, carrying all this love within me without being able to express it freely. I just… I never thought that love could be so exhausting. ”
As the words start to come out, you find that you’re unable to stop. “I grew up with Jonathan, I learned the way he breathes and the way his hands feel pressed against my skin, but so much has changed and…” Your breath hitches. “He’s not someone I reach out to first anymore. It almost feels like I can’t. I love him, I do, but I also miss how it used to be before I realized everything.”
The pressure of tears builds behind your eyes and forces you to stop talking. If you say anything else, you’re afraid you’ll start crying. While Steve has been so lovely tonight, it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to console you so pathetically.
Steve seems to hear the tears lacing your voice and speaks for you, having finally pieced together everything he’s been unable to articulate since November of last year. “With Nance, it feels like I’m always somehow two steps behind her and her feelings. Constantly playing catch up while the rules keep changing on me… I get the whole ‘love is exhausting’ thing.”
Though you know Steve means well, his words fucking terrify you. If he feels the same way towards Nancy, a girl who never ended up loving him despite how much he poured his heart out for her, what does that mean for you and Jonathan?
For the first time, you question if the exhaustion you feel surrounding your love for the boy is really something else. Something different, disguised as exhaustion.
You wonder, deep down, if you’ve started to fall out of love with Jonathan.
Who are you if you have?
The boy has become so intertwined within your life, the threads and strings and lines have tied you to him indefinitely. He’s the reason behind your everything. If you no longer love Jonathan, then who are you, really?
The realization washes over you like cold rain in the middle of winter. It spills over you and pricks at your skin and you suddenly want the conversation to end. While you’re so relieved to be talking to Steve again, the conversation has left you with more realizations than resolutions.
“It’s late,” you fake a yawn, desperate to cut the conversation short. “We should go to bed. Knowing Dustin, he’ll have us up at the crack of dawn to start looking for Dart.”
Steve sees right through you, he knows he’s somehow crossed a line and that you’re once again retreating. You’re closing yourself off from him again, but he’ll take whatever he can get from you. You’ve told him more than he ever thought you would, so for now he’ll play along.
“Goodnight, Y/N.” He says, watching as you reach for your lamp and turn the light off. Then, as soon as you’ve rolled over and closed your eyes, you faintly hear his final words. “Don’t we make a pathetic pair?”
You remember, before drifting off to sleep, feeling relief wash over you that Steve once again considers the two of you a pair.
–
You wake up the next morning to the faint sounds of Dustin getting ready. His shower can be heard from your room, and through the years it's become your morning alarm. Yawning, you roll over and rub your eyes and take a few minutes to let your brain wake up.
Bits of yesterday’s events come back to you.
Dustin confessing about Dart.
Locking the Demodog in your cellar.
Radioing everyone in the party for help and getting no response.
Going to the Wheelers for Mike and coming back with Steve.
Dart going missing.
And, most importantly, your bizarre conversation with Steve last night.
The boy in question lets out a loud snore from the bean bag, blankets haphazardly twisted around his legs, and you stifle a laugh. Even in his sleep, Steve Harrington somehow catches all the attention in the room.
You throw your blanket off and get out of bed, tiptoeing so as to not wake up the sleeping beauty, and head outside to your kitchen. If yesterday was any indication of how long today will be, then you need all the coffee in the world to get through it.
The coffee has just finished brewing when you hear Steve stumble into the kitchen. His eyes are bleary and his hair is the worst it’s ever looked. “I guess even Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington can’t escape bed head, huh?”
Steve acknowledges your quip only by grunting, still stumbling around through your home. So he isn’t a morning person, you think with a smile while bringing your coffee mug to your lips and taking a careful sip.
Eventually Steve makes it to your kitchen table and plops down, letting out a loud yawn and smacking his lips. He looks pathetically endearing, really, especially given his outfit that looks even worse after sleeping in it. The shirt has ridden further up, exposing a bit of his stomach (which you divert your gaze from, feeling yourself blush), and one of his too-short pant legs has ridden up to his knee.
“You really are a natural beauty in the morning, Steve.”
“Ha,” he says boredly, looking around the kitchen. “Do you guys have any food? I’m starving.”
You toss him an apple from the fruit basket on the counter, and Steve only just manages to catch it in time to avoid it hitting his face.
“Christ!” He exclaims, glaring at you when you chuckle at his reaction. Maybe it was a little mean, but you see the small smile he tries to hide.
“Is this all I get? An apple thrown at my face?”
You walk over to the table and set your mug down. “Were you expecting a home cooked meal?”
“You’ll have to earn a Y/N Henderson breakfast,” Dustin says as he enters the kitchen and joins the two of you. His hair is still wet from his shower and he drips onto the counter, which makes you cringe. He’s such a boy, sometimes.
He makes his way over to the fridge and rustles around, looking for something to eat. Truthfully, the reason you threw the apple at Steve is because there’s no food in your house at the moment. Your mom normally goes to the grocery store on Saturdays, and in her frantic rush to find Mews she hadn't left any money for you to go to the store.
“There’s no food,” you inform your brother.
He sighs dejectedly, grabbing a banana and then plopping himself next to Steve at the table. “All right, are you two awake enough to discuss the plan?”
You nod immediately at Dustin’s question while Steve slumps further into his seat, groaning. You run a hand through his hair to try and settle down his theatrics. Dustin sees this and raises an eyebrow at you, but you shake your head and motion for him to keep quiet.
“So,” he takes a bite from his banana and begins speaking with his mouth full, which you make a face at. “I was thinking we lure Dart with bait to a secure area that we can catch him in.”
“Wait,” Steve sits up a bit in his seat, careful to not knock your hand off his head. “That’s all you got? That’s the entire plan?”
“Yes. Is there a problem?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he begins eating as well, his mouth also full and disgusting to look at, “Do you know how we’ll lure him? Or where? Better yet, how will we even catch him?”
Dustin narrows his eyes. “Okay, so it’s a working idea. You got anything better?”
Steve opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He pauses for a second before seemingly drawing a blank and closing his mouth; he sinks back into his seat in defeat.
“That’s what I thought.” Dustin says smugly.
You take another sip of coffee, enjoying the mug’s warmth around your fingers. “Well, we at least know what Dart likes to eat.”
“We do?” Steve questions, looking up at you.
“Oh, just wait until you hear this,” you motion over to Dustin. “Go on, tell Steve what you’ve been feeding Dart.”
Now it’s your brother’s turn to sink into his seat, embarrassed. He mumbles something that Steve can’t quite hear.
“What?”
He mumbles again, only a tiny bit louder this time.
“Little Henderson, I can’t understand you.” Steve says, smirking when he feels you laugh against him.
“I said he eats Musketeers Bars!” Dustin shouts, now incredibly defensive.
In sync, you and Steve share a look. While you have an exasperated fondness on your face, Steve looks like he’s questioning every choice he’s made in his life. It’s cute that he thinks this is the weirdest things will get.
“Okay…” Steve looks over at your brother. “Unless you plan on buying out an entire candy store, we need something else for bait.”
In the corner of your eye you see Mews’ cat bed laying against the window, and an idea pops into your head. “Dustin, did Dart only eat the candy bars before he killed our cat?”
“Yeah, why?”
As you walk over to the kitchen sink to place your mug in it, you begin explaining. “Then clearly he’s outgrown his sugar needs and would probably eat just about anything with flesh on it.”
Steve wrinkles his face with displeasure, not enjoying the thought of going after this monster that craves meat. He’s already done that, and call him crazy, but he really doesn’t want to experience anything like that ever again.
Dustin’s eyes light up, following along with what you’re saying. “Raw meat! You’re a genius, Y/N!”
“And then we can follow the train tracks to that old junkyard, the one that El brought you guys to last year. It’s a straight shot, Dart won’t get lost, and then we catch him.”
Dustin squeals. “That’s perfect!”
He stands up to hug you, which you gladly accept. “Yeah, yeah. We Hendersons are known for our genius,” you gently push your brother away and start exiting the kitchen. “I’m going to go shower and get ready. Steve, you’ll take Dustin to the butcher and see if you can haggle some raw meat out of him.”
“Uh… can I change first?” He asks, running a hand through his hair with displeasure.
Only now does Dustin notice Steve’s appearance and he lets out a loud cackle. “Oh, I think you look great!”
You shoot your brother a warning look, not wanting to upset Steve too much. He’s the only one with a car, and the party still hasn’t responded to Dustin’s calls, so he’s all you have right now. Plus, after last night’s conversation, you’re sure he’s feeling just as wound up and tense as you are.
“We can swing by your place on our way to the train tracks. Your house is right next to it, anyways, and Dustin and I can scout the parameters while you shower and get yourself all pretty. For now, just go to the butcher's shop, please.”
“But–”
“Please, Steve?” You pout, daring him to argue with you again. Steve is only able to stand his ground for about five seconds before he groans and nods his head.
“Fine–” You quickly hug him before running towards the bathroom to get ready.
Once you’re gone, Steve searches for his keys while Dustin stands in the kitchen, shocked. “I so need to know when you two became such good pals.”
“Go wait by the car, Little Henderson.” Steve waves him off, though he’s secretly pleased with how the morning is turning out so far.
–
“C’mon, man. It’s just chunks of raw meat, it doesn’t even matter what, uh, body parts they are, I guess.” Steve argues with the butcher, having no idea why you’ve sent him on this journey with Dustin. Neither of them have any idea about butchers and meat, so they’ve been arguing back and forth for a solid ten minutes with the guy.
“And I already told you, it’ll be $15. Take it or leave it, pretty boy.” Pat, the butcher, says.
Steve scowles at the name, “That’s insane for five pounds, you realize that? It’s just a bunch of meat chunks from god knows where, it’s not like we want prime rib you dirty sack of–”
Dustin cuts him off, snatching the boy’s wallet from his back pocket and pulling out a twenty. “Ignore him, please! Here, thank you so much for your lovely service, good sir.”
Pat narrows his eyes at the boy, and for a split second Dustin is afraid that he’s trying to figure out the best way to skin them alive, before he simply grunts and takes the money.
Relief washes over Dustin and he scrambles to grab the bags of meat, tugging at Steve’s sleeve in urgence until he gives in and begins to help as well. Within a few seconds, they’ve gathered all they need and head towards the car.
“Keep the change!” Dustin calls out behind him.
As soon as they’re in the car, he yells at Steve to step on it. It’s already been twenty minutes since they left the house, and he knows from experience to never keep you waiting.
“Okay, okay, god.” Steve complies, pushing down on the gas and speeding away from the butcher’s shop.
The smell of raw meat immediately infiltrates the car, so Steve rolls down the windows and sighs. This is definitely not the weekend he had in mind. He thought he’d apologize to Nancy, kiss and hopefully make up, and maybe even swing by your place to tell you the good news.
Instead, he has buckets of raw meat in his car and his head is swimming from his conversation with you from last night. While he’s happy it happened, there’s still so much Steve feels like you aren’t telling him. To top it all off, he hadn’t been able to sleep in his own bed, but rather a bean bag that Jonathan apparently has slept in a million times before.
As Steve is moping, he realizes that there actually wasn’t even a real need to spend the night.
“Hey, Little Henderson,” Steve gently hits Dustin’s shoulder to get his attention. “Why did I have to spend the night at your place?”
“Oh, you didn’t.” Dustin says as if it’s no big deal.
Steve turns his head towards him, “I’m sorry, what?”
“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d actually spend the night if we’re being honest. I just thought it’d be funny to mess with you.”
“I tried arguing with you, but you shushed me!” Steve exclaims, putting both hands back on the steering wheel aggressively.
The younger boy shrugs, “What are you, seventeen? Eighteen? Why would you listen to a thirteen year old?”
“Well, I–” As much as he wants to, Steve really can’t defend himself on this one. Shit. It’s not like he can tell Dustin that he mostly stayed because his sister is pretty and makes him feel safe.
Dustin smiles, happy to have won the conversation at hand, and decides to really rub it in as they pull up to the house. “I also thought it’d be hilarious to pair you up with my sister. Hope you two made smart choices last night.”
And with those words, Dustin springs out the car, leaving a speechless Steve behind. He turns the car off and sits there for a moment, completely at a loss for words. He’s only spent a total of sixteen hours with the kid, and already he knows he’s in for a world more of trouble.
If you’re Hawkins’ sweetheart, then Dustin is the town’s horribly terrifying weasel.
Meanwhile, you’ve just finished lacing up your shoes when Dustin walks in.
“Where are the rubber gloves that mom likes?” He asks in lieu of greeting you.
“In the closet, second shelf, next to her cat figurines. Where’s Steve?”
Dustin rustles around the closet and pulls out three sets of gloves, “In the car, moping.”
There’s a crash and then he tosses two buckets onto the carpet. You crouch down and grab the buckets, placing them on the table. “Why is he moping?”
“Why is who moping?” The man in question walks in, throwing himself on the couch and narrowly dodging the third bucket that Dustin throws out. “Why do you guys keep throwing shit at me, jesus!”
“Language! There’s kids around,” You snap your fingers at Steve, who quickly cowers in shame. “And if it makes any difference, the bucket wasn’t intentional. The rest were, though.”
Just as Dustin is finishing up in the closet, you spot a can of gasoline and an idea sparks in your head. If you learned anything at Jonathan’s house last year, it’s that these Demogorgon things really hate fire. “Hey, grab the gasoline as well.”
He does as he’s told, no questions asked, and then hands it to you. You add it to the pile on the table, along with two backpacks from your brother and your beloved switchblade.
Steve gets up from the couch to investigate your stash, nodding approvingly. “Not bad, guys. What are we going to put in the backpacks, though?”
Dustin goes into the kitchen and begins grabbing the few items within it. The remaining fruits in the basket, a few pieces of bread, a bag of chips, and some water bottles. “One bag will have our food, the other will have our weapons.”
And with that, you guys are all set to head out. While Dustin is distracted with grabbing his backpack, you run towards Steve’s car and throw yourself into the passenger seat. Every man for himself.
“What– Y/N!” He calls after you, but he’s too late. You’ve already buckled yourself up by the time he and Steve get into the car themselves.
“She beat ya, buddy.” Steve teases, flashing you a proud smile.
Dustin grumbles in the backseat, unamused, and for a moment you think he’ll leave it at that. However, because he’s Dustin, you see from the rearview mirror as his eyes spark with revenge. “So, Steve.”
The tone in his voice terrifies you.
You place your head in your hands and sigh, mentally preparing for whatever your brother is about to say.
“Yes, Dustin?”
“How long have you been friendly with my sister?”
“Dustin!” You whip your head around, lunging towards the back seat to swat at the boy, but he quickly scoots over to Steve’s side and avoids your hands.
Steve, however, surprises you by simply shrugging and taking the question in stride. There’s no embarrassment on his face, no ounce of hesitation in his voice. “About a year now.”
“A year?” Dustin exclaims, having completely not expected such a response. “Y/N, how could you keep this from me?”
“She didn’t hide anything from you, buddy.” Steve defends you, eyes focused on the road. “I convinced her to be my friend after I saved her life–”
“You saved her life?”
“And then bought you boys snacks at the hospital afterwards. Then, because I really wanted to be her friend, I basically stalked her at work every day and annoyed my way into her life. We’ve been pretty close ever since.”
Dustin’s jaw is practically on the ground after Steve’s quick explanation, left speechless for the first time in his life. As for you, you’re admiring the way the early morning sun causes Steve to glow. You’ll never be over how often his beauty distracts you; you wonder how Nancy, or really anyone, could deny him love.
If you didn’t know Steve, if you passed by him on the street one day as complete strangers, you’re sure that a part of you would fall in love with him.
Even with pieces of his hair standing all over the place, his shirt still being too small, he was a delicate kind of handsome that made you feel a certain warmth.
“Did I forget anything, Y/N?” Steve’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, and you quickly divert your eyes away from the way his arms look while holding the steering wheel.
“No, uh.” You clear your throat, still recovering. Steve seems to be in good spirits for once, it’s a breath of fresh air seeing him so content, and yet it also serves as a stark reminder that you made the right choice when you first distanced yourself from him. He’s just too easy to love. “I think you pretty much covered everything. Unless Dustin has any questions?”
“Give me three to five business days to process this, please.” Your brother mumbles from the backseat, which you and Steve laugh at.
The rest of the ride is relatively peaceful after that, and a few minutes later you arrive at Steve’s house. It’s different in the daylight, only ever having seen it late one night driving the boy home from the Halloween party.
It’s a beautiful home, the smell of chlorine fills your nose. The pool, you remember Nancy mentioning his pool when she explained what happened to Barb. You shiver, now aware that you’re in the same place that your friend took her last breaths at, just a year ago.
“The tracks are just over on the other side of the street, and I shouldn’t be too long, so you Hendersons can start figuring out the plan in the meantime.” Steve instructs you and Dustin, getting out of the car and entering his house.
Dustin begins getting out as well, so you unbuckle your seatbelt and follow. Thankfully you decided to wear jeans today with a simple tank top and cardigan with your knit socks; though it was late October, it’s unusually sunny outside and the walk from Steve’s to the junkyard was easily four to five miles.
The two of you walk over to the tracks and you survey the area. You’re not sure what exactly you’re looking for, but you figure it’s best to look focused in case Dustin yells at you.
“We’ll need to go that way,” Dustin points in front of you, and you nod as you follow along. “We can drop the meat chunks every few sleepers so we don’t waste any of it.”
“Sleepers?”
“These.” Dustin’s shoe scrapes against the bottom wooden planks.
“You would know what they’re called.”
“Ha ha, any more quips or can I continue?”
You put your hands up in surrender and Dustin begins to speak again.
“Then once we get to the junkyard, we can dump whatever meat is left in a pile and put the gasoline on it. Once Dart is distracted and eating, we’ll light it on fire.” His words catch a bit at the end, and you suddenly feel bad for him. He clearly still cares about Dart, but you know your brother understands the risks of letting the Demodog live.
Without saying anything, you reach over and pull Dustin in for a hug. He fights it at first, but after a couple seconds he gives in and hugs you back. You aren’t the most affectionate pair of siblings, but you love your younger brother fiercely. Not for the first time, you wish you could’ve done more to prevent him from discovering the Upside Down.
You know it’s irrational to blame yourself and feel guilty, but maybe if you’d been more involved last year, then maybe he wouldn’t have so many nightmares.
“I’m sorry about Dart,” you say softly against his hat.
Dustin breaks away, shrugging his shoulders. “Gotta protect the party, right?”
“Right.” You flick his hat. “C’mon, let’s go back to the car and start putting the meat in the buckets.”
True to his word, Steve is ready to go after about twenty minutes. He walks out of his house, freshly clean and put together, right as you and Dustin finish preparing the bait. He approaches from behind you, and you can smell his cologne. Memories from when he’d have his arms around you and you’d smell the familiar scent now wash over you.
Clearing your throat, you turn to hand him gloves and a bucket, but almost drop it when you see him.
He looks good. Like, frustratingly good. His hair is back in its usual style, but he’s wearing a dark blue polo and a gray jacket that fits him criminally well. You almost feel underdressed standing next to him with your ratty old cardigan, which you know is ridiculous to be concerned about. Plus, you’ve always known that Steve was attractive, so it’s stupid to be affected by it suddenly now.
You guys had one emotional conversation.
“Y/N?”
Steve’s staring at you quizzically, and you quickly snap out of your thoughts and hand him the bucket full of bait and instruct him to put the gloves on. He listens, dutifully putting them on and placing the bucket on the ground and starts searching for one of the backpacks in the trunk. He’s seemingly in a much better mood now, which you’re thankful for.
“Dustin! This is Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin?”
Lucas’ voice rings out from Dustin’s walkie, and you perk your head up, relieved that he’s okay. The radio silence from the party was something that unnerved you immensely. With Dart on the loose, Will’s increasing episodes, who knows what else is happening in Hawkins at the moment?
“Well, well, well, look who it is.” Dustin responds, placing his hands on his hips like a disappointed mother. You chuckle at him and continue helping Steve unload the trunk.
You hear Lucas sigh into the walkie. “Sorry, man. My stupid sister turned it off.”
“Tell Erica I say hi!” You call out, knowing Lucas will hear you. He always resented the fact that his sister is so nice to you. You’re the only living person who didn’t receive Erica’s insane insults, which is something you’re very proud of.
“Y/N?”
“Hi, Lucas!”
Dustin shoos you away and continues to speak. “Well, when you were having sister problems, which really aren’t that hard to handle–”
“Says you,” you butt in.
“Dart grew again, he escaped, and I’m pretty sure he’s a baby Demogorgon.” Your brother finishes. By this point, you and Steve have pretty much unpacked everything in the car.
“Wait, what?” You’d kill to see the look on Lucas’ face right now.
“I’ll explain later, just meet me, Y/N, and Steve at the old junkyard.” As Dustin wraps up the conversation, Steve shoves his bat into the bag and you watch him with disappointment. He’s trying really hard to make it fit, and you almost pity the boy. Bless him.
There’s a pause before Lucas asks, “Steve?”
Dustin doesn’t elaborate, instead instructing his friend to bring his binoculars and wrist rocket. You suppose it’s a good idea to add more weapons to your arsenal. Better safe than sorry.
“Steve Harrington?” Lucas asks again, this time even more confused.
“He’s a friend,” you say, shoving your own weapons into the bag and slinging it over your shoulder.
Steve closes the trunk and says, “Damn straight I am. Alright, let’s go.”
You follow after him, saying goodbye to Lucas as Dustin tells him to be at the junkyard stat.
Dustin stashes his walkie in his own bag and then the three of you are off. Your brother and Steve walk a bit ahead of you as you all throw the meat chunks onto the ground, doing as Dustin instructed. It’s slow work, but you’re happy to have some time to yourself while the boys are distracted with each other. Their friendship wasn’t something you’d expect, but you’re incredibly happy about it.
You love the party, you’d do anything for them given all that you’ve been through together. However, as they grow older, you can’t help but notice how much they’re changing. Mike hasn’t been himself since El disappeared, Dustin is now hyper focused on science, Lucas is becoming his own person, and poor Will is just trying to recover from the trauma of last year.
It’s been hard watching them grow apart, in a way. Nothing will ever be the same after the Upside Down, you know that, but watching the party slowly drift makes you sad for your brother. You’re glad he’s seemingly found someone like Steve to bounce jokes off of and feel appreciated by. You know that someday the kids will all come together again, it’d be impossible not to with how strong of a connection they all have, so you try not to worry too much.
You shove the thoughts down, you need to keep focused on Dart and contacting the rest of the party. So, you dutifully place the bait down and follow behind the boys and feel the time pass by. After about an hour of nonsensical conversation between Steve and Dustin, you hear the older boy finally ask the question of why your brother even hid Dart in the first place.
“It’s complicated, okay?” Dustin defects, clearly uncomfortable with the change in conversation.
You keep your distance from them, but you keep an ear out just in case you need to intervene.
“You claim you wanted to get famous off of it or whatever,” Steve drops meat onto the tracks and kicks his foot. “Call me crazy, but you don’t hide something that supposedly makes you famous.”
He has a point, and Dustin scrunches his face up. He casts a glance your way and you do your best to appear distracted by the job at hand. You know Dustin’s guilty face well, so whatever he’s about to tell Steve will be good. When Dustin shuffles closer to Steve and lowers his voice, you get closer as well so you can listen.
You’re his older sister. It’s your damn job to be nosy.
“It was for this girl.”
Simultaneously you and Steve react. He hums in approval, almost proud, while you scoff. “I knew it.”
Dustin turns around, horrified. “You knew?”
“Duh, you’re awful at hiding things from me. After Max was just conveniently outside the AV room when Dart originally escaped, I pieced it together immediately. Also, side note: you’re too young to be impressing girls. I told you to just be yourself, dummy.”
Steve lets out a snort. “Pretty ironic coming from you, Y/N.”
Suddenly you feel uncomfortable with his attention on you.
“I’m sorry?” Your voice is steady, but you can feel your hands shaking as you continue throwing the bait.
“Ya know, your massive crush on Jonathan ever since you were twelve.” He laughs, as if it’s the funniest joke in the world.
Dustin clears his throat aggressively, pointing to your hands. Steve sees the way that they shake, the tension you now carry in your shoulders, and he’s become familiar enough with you to know your anger cues. The teasing smile that had been on his face drops. He runs towards you so he’s now by your side, and Dustin sighs in disappointment.
“I didn’t, like, mean anything by that, you know. I–uh, I was kidding, Y/N.” Steve tries to catch your gaze, but you pointedly stare straight ahead and clench your jaw. He’s stumbling over both his words and the tracks beneath his feet, trying desperately to appease you. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
“You’re an asshole, Steve Harrington.”
“Y/N, please, I said I was sorry–”
You finally face him, grabbing his elbow to ensure he doesn’t move. “I told you that stuff about Jonathan in confidence. You don’t get to throw it back in my face, joking or not.”
It doesn’t help that you’re already confused enough as it is about the boy and your feelings towards him. To have Steve tease you about it, especially because he knows how painful jabs about Nancy are… It really fucking hurts.
Steve looks like a kicked puppy as you storm ahead of him and Dustin, putting enough distance between you guys so that you can’t hear their conversion that follows.
“Shit…”
“You’re awful with women.” Dustin says, now continuing to walk. He doesn’t bother to follow after you, knowing that you need your space to cool down. “I wouldn’t follow her, by the way. Let her cool off.”
Steve sighs, now walking as well, “Yeah, I know.”
They walk in silence for a little while, Steve hanging his head in shame and Dustin leading the way, frustrated by being stuck with two overly emotional teens.
After a while the silence eats at Steve, so he decides to continue the conversation from earlier. “So, this girl… is she someone you’ve known a while?”
Dustin shakes his head, “No, she’s new at our school. She’s super cool, though.”
“I remember back when I based my attraction to girls on their coolness.” Steve mumbles.
“And look where basing it off their hotness has gotten you.”
“Ouch,” Steve rubs at his chest, wounded.
Dustin laughs and flings some bait at him. “I thought that if I showed her Dart, she’d think I was cool, too, and like me.”
Steve sidesteps the thrown bait and tries to comprehend what the younger boy is saying. “So, you kept something that you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who… you just met?”
“Alright, that’s grossly oversimplifying things. And anyways, who are you to give me girl advice? My sister is literally three hundred feet ahead of us because you pissed her off with one singular sentence.” Then, almost as if as an afterthought, Dustin adds, “congrats, by the way. I’ve never seen someone piss her off so quickly.”
“Look, this isn’t about me, okay? Sure, I messed up with Y/N, but it isn’t like I was hitting on her to begin with,” Dustin makes a disgusted face as Steve quickly continues, panicked. “So she doesn’t count. I just feel like you’re trying way too hard, man.”
“Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, alright?” Dustin grumbles.
Steve shakes his head, slightly amused by the boy’s antics. He’s so much like you, and yet so different, and Steve is realizing it’ll take a lot to keep up with the kid. “It’s not about the hair, dude. Chicks dig more than just a good hairstyle.”
“You’re literally known as Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”
“Hey, ‘King Steve’ is also there.”
Dustin flings even more bait at Steve, now annoyed with him. “Whatever man, it’s not like you’d be any help anyways.”
“Oh really? Well, Little Henderson, I’m about to blow your mind: the key to girls is just acting like you don’t care.”
“Even if you do?”
“Yeah, exactly.” Steve now brightens up, happy to finally be getting through to the boy. For Steve, he’s long since learned that the best way to avoid getting hurt is to pretend that he doesn’t care. “It drives them nuts.”
“Then what?”
“You just wait,” Steve looks ahead, watching you and feeling like a complete dick. He really hadn’t meant to hurt you, hell the two of you were finally starting to get somewhere and yet… Steve fucked it up. As always.
He can see that your shoulders are still tensed up, you’re walking faster than you need to be. He feels a heavy weight in his stomach, one that he’s never felt before; he doesn’t like it. “You wait… until you feel it.”
Dustin furrows his brows. “Feel what?”
Steve tears his gaze away from you and turns back to Dustin, beginning to explain the electricity between someone you’re interested in. Being the geek that he is, Dustin turns it into a scientific discussion and Steve does his best to steer the conversation back.
“No, like sexual electricity.” He explains.
As soon as the words leave Steve’s lips, you whip around and shout, “Are you seriously talking to my little brother about sexual electricity?”
Both Dustin and Steve freeze in place, dumbfounded. You let out a loud groan and continue stomping away, now even more aggressively throwing the chunks at the train tracks.
“How did she even hear me?” Steve whispers, terrified.
“I don’t know,” Your brother whispers back, also equally frightened. “Sometimes I think she has powers like El.”
Once you’re a safe enough distance away from them, Dustin hesitantly brings the girl conversation back up. “Hypothetically, what do girls like?”
Steve takes a second to answer, carefully rolling the question around in his mind. “It depends on the girl. Some girls want you to be aggressive, ya know? Go in for the kiss, make them feel protected. Strong, hot and heavy. Like a lion.”
Dustin hums to indicate he’s following along, but ‘like a lion’ has him a little worried about the reliability of the conversation. He knows that Steve is a lady’s man, but he’s also never seen him with any girl besides Nancy, and the one time he saw him with you, he had immediately pissed you off.
So for all Dustin knows, it could be lies.
Steve continues his confusing explanation. “But others? You gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy… like a ninja!”
“Okay, what type is Nancy?” Dustin asks, hoping to get the teen to stop making stupid analogies. Lions, ninjas… maybe it was all lies.
The question catches Steve off guard and he stumbles a bit, feeling the familiar sense of protectiveness, insecurity, over the girl as well as a new sense of loss. What type is Nancy? If he had been asked this a week ago, Steve would’ve told Dustin that she’s a nice girl, a girl he could happily bring home to his parents and proudly wrap around his arms. Now? He’s not so sure.
Not when he can still see the anger and disgust in Nancy’s eyes that night at the party.
“Nancy’s different,” he recalls his conversation with you from last night, how he’d confessed to always feeling two steps behind the girl and how exhausting it all is. “She’s just different. Let’s move on to the next question.”
Dustin notices Steve’s change in demeanor but doesn’t say anything. He supposes that you and him have a lot in common, then. “Okay, what type would you say Y/N is?”
Once again Steve isn’t expecting the question Dustin asks. “What–” he trips over a twig and just barely manages to catch himself. “Why would you ask me that? She’s your sister, and I don’t even like her–”
“Relax, Romeo. She’s just similar to Nancy and the girl I like, and I figured you’d know Y/N well enough by now considering you guys slept together–”
“I slept on her bean bag–”
“And have been friends for like, a year. Plus, she’s in love with Jonathan, you’re in love with Nancy, and coincidentally they’re in love with each other. Figures that there’s some type intermingling between the four of you.”
How the hell does everyone know about Nancy and Jonathan? Steve thinks bitterly.
He’s silent for multiple seconds, absolutely at a loss for what to say. He doesn’t know where to begin or what to even deny. Technically the boy is right, as much as it hurts Steve to admit. He’s all but lost Nancy to Jonathan, and you’ve lost Jonathan to Nancy.
In an extremely messed up way, you and Nancy do have the same type. On top of that, both you and Nancy are close to Jonathan, so it’s safe to assume there’s similarities to the both of you that Steve doesn’t even want to touch on right now.
Even more importantly, Steve has yet to really decipher why your presence alone can make or break his entire day. Why, after months of not talking, it now feels like he’s finally come home again with you back in his life.
He looks at you again, still angrily throwing your bait, and he supposes that you’re a lot like Nancy in certain aspects, and yet completely different from her. “Y/N is also different, I guess. She’s incredibly intelligent both emotionally and academically. Isn’t she like the top of her class?”
Dustin nods, proud of the Henderson intelligence, and Steve continues.
“Right. I’d say she’s like Nancy, except she’s softer?” Steve cringes at his own words, suddenly uncomfortable with comparing the two of you. In his mind, you’re both your own separate entities that infatuate him in different ways.
You both burn Steve; Nancy is like a shot of whiskey, the thrill that follows the burn. But you? You’re a fireplace after hours of being out in the cold, the burn of it warming his bones.
“Y/N is just… she’s special, but everyone knows that. Your sister is the most caring person I’ve ever met, and I know I’m a lucky son of a bitch to be someone she trusts.”
Dustin snorts. “Yeah you are.”
Up ahead, you finally slow down and face the boys, now waiting for them to catch up and call out, “C’mon, ladies! The sun sets soon, I don’t want Lucas waiting in the cold all alone.”
“Looks like I’ve been forgiven.” Steve says, relief evident in his voice, something that your brother doesn’t miss.
Dustin lets out another loud snort, patting him on the chest, “Oh, my sister may be forgiving, but she never forgets.” With that, he walks away to catch up with you.
“Well, isn’t that ominous.”
You greet the boys with a tired smile, knowing there’s no use holding resentment towards Steve. He couldn’t have known about your mixed feelings towards Jonathan, you know he had only been trying to get along with Dustin.
Things are still weird between you two, despite the conversation from last night, but it’s hard to stay mad at Steve and honestly, you don’t really want to be mad at him. It’s been so lovely having him around again, and your own confusing feelings can wait.
Steve leans in close to you, gently grabbing at your hand so that you don’t walk away. “Hey, we okay?”
His eyes are full of concern and his voice is sickly sweet like honey. With the honey, the remaining bits of anger vanishes. “Of course we’re okay.”
Steve exhales deeply and you giggle at him before remembering that Dustin is quite literally a few feet away from you two. Coughing, you hold up your bucket to point out how it’s almost empty. “I guess in my rage, I flung more than I intended. How are your buckets holding up?”
The two boys hold their buckets up, giving you a mock solute to indicate that all is good. You laugh, impressed by how synched they’ve become in such a short time.
“Alright, then. Let’s get going.” As you all begin to walk in line again, you ask, “What were you guys even talking about, anyways?”
The boys glance at each other in a conspiring way, which causes you to roll your eyes. They’re acting like you asked for their deepest and darkest secrets. They seem to have a silent conversation for a couple seconds before Steve finally speaks up.
“I was just giving Little Henderson some girl advice. Nothing serious.”
You raise your eyebrows, your heart swelling a bit at the idea of Steve giving your brother advice. It’s sweet, really. “Girl advice, huh?”
“Yeah, why do you sound so skeptical?”
“Because you’re terrible with girls.”
Dustin now butts in, “He told me to be aggressive.”
“I did not!”
“He also said that you’re softer than Nancy.”
You make a face. “Thank you? I think?”
Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “You two are the worst people I’ve ever met. You know that, right?”
In unison, you and Dustin reply, “We get that a lot.”
Steve stares at the two of you with slight horror in his eyes. “Yeah, alright. I’m out.”
You grab at his sleeve, gently stopping him from storming away. You give him an apologetic look and pull him close so that your chest bumps against his. “You’ve gotta get used to the Henderson humor, Steve.”
He looks surprised by your tugging at his sleeve before he lets a smile cross his face. He doesn’t do anything else, but he also doesn’t back away, either, and you find yourself blushing a bit under his gaze.
You clear your throat and let go of his sleeve, stepping back a bit. “Anyways, why don’t you tell me what wise advice you have for my brother.”
The smile that was just on Steve’s face vanishes as he looks away from you. “I was just telling the kid to not fall in love with his little crush. He’s too young for heartbreak and all that other shit.”
“I’m not in love with her!” Dustin exclaims in disgust, but you’re too distracted by Steve’s words to assure your brother that you believe him.
“Well, I believe that love is something beautiful.” You say, your words only meeting Steve’s turned back. He doesn’t acknowledge you, but you know his indifference holds no malice. He’s still hurting, still in love with Nancy Wheeler. “Dustin, you may be too young to be in love, but don’t listen to Steve. To love and be loved is the luckiest thing we can ever do, regardless of how it ends.”
Dustin blanches at your words, grossed out now. “Okay, okay, stop! Love is gross. I get it.”
You softly mumble sorry to him, now suddenly remembering that he’s only thirteen. When you were his age, the idea of love also grossed you out. Now, love is a concept that you’ve found a comforting warmth in, even if it's burned you a few times and has left you more exhausted than exhilarated. One day he’ll understand (in the far off future, hopefully).
For now, you flick your brother’s hat and follow after Steve, finishing the rest of the bait journey in silence.
–
By the time the three of you get to the junkyard, it’s already about midday.
It’s different from how you imagined it, filled with old cars and a giant school bus. It’s more open, too, not as “junkyard” as you assumed.
You, Steve, and Dustin stand at the top of the hill, surveying the area. Your feet ache from the walk and the sun is hurting your eyes. Seeing you squinting, Steve wordlessly hands you his signature Raybans and motions for you to put them on.
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, this will do. It’ll do just fine,” He says, satisfied as he begins to walk down the hill. Then, as an afterthought, he says to Dustin, “Good call, dude.”
Dustin beams with pride and you fill with so much happiness, seeing the boy getting along so well with Steve, that you almost regret not having them meet sooner. However, there’s no time to wallow in what-if’s and you put Steve’s sunglasses on to follow after the boys.
Immediately you and Steve get to work, working seamlessly together side by side, months of him joining you in Bookstrordinary finally being put to use. While you and Steve silently scatter more meat and grab supplies, Dustin surveys the area.
Just as you’ve dumped the remaining meat in the middle of the field, you hear Lucas’ voice call from a few yards away, “I said medium well!”
The boy is with Max, who looks slightly displeased, yet curious, to be here. Despite her still obvious hesitation, you still feel excited seeing the girl. You’ve been meaning to talk more to her, she seems like such a lovely girl.
“Who’s that?” Steve asks you.
“Max! She’s great, and–” You start gushing about the girl, eager to go and say hi, before you see the crestfallen look on Dustin’s face when he realizes why she’s with Lucas. You remember, then, the weird tug-of-war between the boys over her. Shit.
You grab at Steve’s hand and pull him aside. “Actually, Steve, why don’t we start finding some panels to cover the bus?”
Steve gives you a questioning look, but when you silently motion towards Dustin and he sees his despair as well, he catches on and just nods, following along. Without having to tell him, he understands that you want to leave Dustin alone so he can talk to Lucas.
As always, you’re forever thankful that he can read you so well.
After guiding Steve away, you and him begin to prep the junkyard alongside Max. While the boys are talking, you take this as an opportunity to get to know the girl better.
“So,” you begin, helping Max carry a large piece of wood over to the bus. “I see you’re back again.”
“Looks like it,” she shrugs, not really feeling like talking. Seems like she’s still mad at you for yesterday, taking Lucas’ side over hers.
You sigh. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”
“That’s a first.” Again she deflects, but you know she’s doing it out of hurt rather than maliciousness.
“I know you don’t really like me right now, which I totally understand, I just wanted to let you know that while I don’t like that you’ve been dragged into this mess, I’m happy you’re here.”
Max frowns at you. “You guys act like I’m going to like, die or something.”
A scrap of metal that you’d been carrying slips from your hands. Steve hears this and comes rushing over to help, but you gently wave him away and focus on Max. “I don’t know what Lucas told you, but it’s all true. It’s dangerous, being here, and I just… If you ever get hurt, any of you kids, then it’d be on me and I’d never forgive myself.”
“Way to be a buzzkill, Y/N.” Steve nudges you, trying to get you to smile before your ever-present guilt bears down upon you.
Max bites her lip, still disbelieving, but she recognizes the pained look of protectiveness on your face. It’s not something that someone can easily fake, and from what she’s heard about you, your kindness is one of the few genuine things in Hawkins.
Before she can say anything else, Steve lets out a huff and grabs a chair to bang on the car that Lucas and Dustin are talking behind. “Hey! Dickheads! How come it’s only Y/N and some random girl helping me?”
“Language!” You chastise.
Steve sends you a thumbs up, not really listening. “We lose light in forty minutes. Let’s go!”
Dustin and Lucas reluctantly start helping, both calling Steve an asshole and throwing him dirty looks, which you can’t help but laugh at.
Lucas sees you laughing and points at you. “Are you the reason Harrington is here?”
“Mhm,” you respond, nailing another piece of wood to the bus. “He’s done more to help than you have, so either pick up some metal and help or go sit in a corner and sulk. Up to you.”
Steve high fives you. “Yeah! What she said!”
Lucas’ shoulders sag, completely at a loss as to how any of this has happened. “This is so weird.”
“Dude, I’ve spent all day with them. Imagine how I feel,” Dustin groans. “I think I died a little when I found out they’ve been friends for like, a year.”
“A year?” Lucas gasps.
“Guys!” You throw pebbles at the two boys to break up their little gossip session. “One, I’m incredibly hurt you two didn’t think I had any friends besides Jonathan. Two, start helping before I throw more rocks.”
“Yes ma’am,” both boys grumble in unison, which Max finds pretty impressive.
After that, the five of you get to work. You guys use every item available in the junkyard to secure the bus, hoping that with enough stacked against it, you’ll be safe from Dart once he’s lured. Barrels are rolled, more sheets of metal are placed against the bus, and within the next hour or so you’ve successfully managed to build a decent base.
All that’s left is to pour the gasoline trail, which you help Steve with as the kids watch from inside the bus.
“I’m getting major deja-vu right now,” you mumble as Steve pours.
“Gasoline at Jonathan’s?”
“Mhm. God, he wouldn’t believe what we’re doing right now.” You know he would’ve loved this bizarre interaction. You, Steve, and the kids all in a junkyard trying to lure a baby Demogorgon.
You’ve definitely had better babysitting days, and Jonathan would have a field day with this one.
Once you’re done with the gasoline, you and Steve return to the bus. He waits behind you, making sure you’re securely in the car, before he heaves the old bus door closed. As soon as the door is closed, you and Steve exhale together.
You share a look, both in silent agreement to keep the kids safe no matter what. It’s your guys’ job to keep them safe, to fight for and protect them.
Deja-vu again. You’re back in Jonathan’s house, holding a switchblade while Steve wields his bat.
“Ready?” He asks you, extending his hand out for you to grab.
You interlock your fingers through his. “When am I ever?”
Steve laughs, dispelling away any remaining uncertainty and fear. You know, that no matter what, that he’ll be by your side to help. With this in mind, you join the kids further into the bus.
Lucas climbs the ladder up to the top, something you’re not fully okay with, but he’s the one with the binoculars and you the switchblade, so it makes the most sense. As the boy climbs, you sit down next to Steve as he flicks his lighter on and off. You’re pressed shoulder to shoulder, his presence grounding you.
Dustin paces, and all you can do is watch him as you try to settle your own nerves. Max has seated herself at the other end of the bus, her arms crossed as usual.
After a few moments of silence, she finally speaks. “So, you really fought one of these things before?”
Steve nods and you hum in agreement. “Unfortunately.”
“And you’re, like, totally, 100% sure it wasn’t a bear?”
“I mean, to be fair I also had that same thought last year–”
Dustin cuts you off. “Shit, don’t be an idiot, okay? It wasn’t a bear.”
You roughly grab at your brother, yanking him towards you to shut him up. “Dustin–”
“Why are you even here if you don’t believe us?” He sneers at Max, something you’ve never, ever seen your sweet brother do. “Just go home.”
Max clenches her jaw and you send her an apologetic look, but she rolls her eyes at you. “Geesh, someone’s cranky. Past your bedtime?”
“Max, wait–” She ignores you and climbs up the ladder to join Lucas. You groan once she’s gone, now more than ever wanting to strangle your brother. “Dustin, what the hell was that?”
“That was good, Y/N!” Steve says, a proud smirk on his face. “He showed her he didn’t care, just like I told him to.”
“Oh, so it’s your fault my sweet, innocent baby brother is now some woman hating misogynistic piece of–”
“I don’t hate women, Y/N.” Dustin tiredly says, before directing his next words to Steve. “And I don’t care.”
Steve winks at the boy, but immediately flinches back when you raise your hand to smack him. “Yeah, cower away, you idiotic and moronic–”
“Y/N, stop overreacting and Steve, stop winking at me.”
You raise your eyebrows at Dustin’s tone and he quickly clears his throat and steps away from you. Steve puts some distance between you two as well, scooting away a bit so that he’s out of hitting range.
It’s quiet again, both boys now scared of your anger, and you anxiously wait for Dart to show up.
Steve goes back to flicking the lighter, Dustin paces again, and you tap your foot nervously. The silence is killing you, it’s always been your least favorite part of the Upside Down. The waiting, hoping you’re prepared for when all hell inevitably breaks loose.
You flick your own blades out, admiring the way the blades catch in the moonlight, when you hear a loud growl come from outside. Instinctively you raise your blades to your face while Steve and Dusin scramble to peek through the metal sheets to look out the window.
“You guys see him?” Dustin asks as he crouches next to you.
You shake your head. “No,”
There’s nothing outside, only a thick haze of fog that has settled over the junkyard.
“Lucas, what’s going on?” Your brother calls up to his friend.
“Hold on!” The boy responds.
Your heart begins to beat faster, your blades never straying away from your face, poised for a fight. Steve sees the way your knuckles whiten over your weapon and he grabs your spare hand, gently coaxing you to calm down.
Your fingers tighten around Steve’s and you remember his words from last night, promising you that he’ll be there, and you believe him.
From the bus’ roof, you hear Lucas call down, “I’ve got eyes! Ten o’clock–ten o’clock!”
There, in the haze of fog, you see a hunched figure stalk its way towards the bus. Seeing Dart, you’re filled with complete dread. He’s grown again, much bigger than you’ve ever seen him.
He’s practically the size of the Demogorgon from last year, the same one that almost killed you and Steve.
“What’s he doing?” Dustin asks, as if anyone else would have any more information than he does.
“I don’t know,” Steve sighs, his eyes never leaving Dart.
You squeeze his hand again and hold your breath as you watch the Demodog. He slowly approaches the bait, inspects the area, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in it. You send a silent prayer to whatever god is above that your plan will work.
It has to work.
However, Dart starts to back away from the bait and Steve leans even closer to the window. “He’s not taking the bait. Why isn’t he taking the bait?”
“I don’t know,” you want to cry from exhaustion and fear and defeat.
Dustin looks over at you. “Maybe he’s not hungry?”
Something seems to click, then, for Steve. His eyes light up with an idea, and before he can even get his words out, you grasp at Steve’s arm and try to talk him out of it. “No, absolutely not. You’re not going out there.”
“Maybe he’s sick of cow.” Steve tries to make you let go of him, but you quickly tighten your hold on him and fight back. “Y/N, let me go, I can run fast and–”
“You can’t just use yourself as bait!” You plead, but Steve has always been stronger than you and he drags you behind him as he makes his way towards the bus door. “Steve, listen to me!”
“Steve? Steve!” Dustin finally catches on to what’s happening and he grabs at the teen as well. “What are you doing?”
Steve ignores you both and with a quick jerk of his arm, he frees himself from you. As soon as you’ve let go, he runs towards the door and snatches his bat from the ground. You curse, knowing there’s no way in hell he’s going out there alone, so you follow after him.
Dustin sees this and panics. “Y/N, please don’t tell me you’re going–”
“Stay put!” You command, scrambling after Steve, who has now begun to open the door. He tosses you the lighter, which you toss to your brother. “Just get ready, Dustin!”
“Y/N!”
“I love you!”
Dustin continues to shout, his pleas laced with more fear than you’ve ever heard from him, but you force yourself to leave. Just as you’ve stepped outside and re-closed the bus door, Dustin pounds against the glass that you’ve locked, tears in his eyes.
You look away, despite how fucking hard it is, and it takes everythin within you to leave.
Steve saved your life last year.
Now it’s your turn.
It’s tense outside as you and Steve walk back to back, weapons out. He twirls his bat a few times, a move that you find yourself smiling at due to its familiarity. With your back against his, you whisper to Steve, “You look for Dart, I keep an eye for anything else?”
He nods, and together the two of you slowly follow the sound of Dart’s chittering.
“C’mon buddy,” Steve taunts, beginning to whistle.
“I know we named it a Demodog, but I don’t think whistling will help.”
“We could be about to die, and you’re seriously questioning what I’m doing?”
You shrug, eyes now on the skyline as the fog slowly thickens. “Habit.”
Steve chuckles, which brings some comfort to the fucking awful situation at hand. He whistles some more, continuing to taunt Dart. “C’mon. Dinner time.”
“Again with offering Dart meals while we’re near him,” you shake your head, not at all liking where any of this is going.
“What? At least human tastes better than cat.” Steve responds, now at the pile of raw meat.
You both stop here, Steve facing the bait and you facing the bus, still scanning for literally anything else that could possibly go wrong. Because you’re Y/N Henderson and nothing can ever, ever go right for you.
Dart lets out another growl, now having spotted Steve, and the teen swings his bat around. You spare a quick glance behind you and see Dart, who has placed all his focus on you and Steve.
Well, at least the live bait plan is working.
You turn away again, and as soon as you do, you see the other Demodogs now suddenly appear. Your blood runs cold when you see the two up ahead, one directly in front of you and one on top of the cars.
For a moment, your words seem to fail you and no sound comes out when you try to speak. All you can do is stare at them, overcome with fear. You’re back in Jonathan’s once more, the fear strangling you as the memories paralyze you.
From the top of the bus, Lucas yells, “Steve! Y/N! Watch out!”
“We’re a little busy here!” Steve yells back, eyes still on Dart.
The Demodog in front of you starts to approach, which finally seems to break you from your spell. Shakily, you tell Steve, “There’s more.”
“What?” He tries to turn around, but you shove at him to not lose sight of Dart. You can’t distract him now. Another Demodog has joined.
“Three o’clock! Right in front of Y/N!” Lucas screams, his voice cracking with fear.
“Y/N?” Steve fully turns around now when he realizes that you’re also in danger, and when he sees the three other Demodogs, he lets out a curse. “Shit.”
Suddenly, you and Steve are surrounded by Demodogs, more than you ever could’ve imagined. More than the two of you can even fight on your own.
Back at Jonathan’s, it had taken guns, fire, knives, and bats to kill a grown Demogorgon.
You don’t think your knives and Steve’s bat will be enough for Demodogs.
“Steve! Y/N! Abort!” Dustin has flung the bus door open, screeching for the two of you to get out of there.
It’s too late. Dart has opened his mouth and is running towards you two, his friends joining as well.
“I go left, you go right!” Steve has just enough time to direct you before Dart lunges.
You dodge, going right as instructed while Steve flings himself on top of a car to avoid the monsters. As Steve hits Dart with his bat, crouched against the car, you narrowly avoid the other Demodog and drop to the ground as it jumps over your head. “Shit!”
Steve swings his bat again and tries to make his way over to you, but you’re off the ground in a heartbeat and run to him instead. Two of the Demodogs are on him now, and there’s only so much damage his bat can do. Breathless, you run over and stab at their backs, doing everything you can to give Steve an opening to run.
Faintly, you hear the kids in the background cheering you guys on, urging you two to come home.
One of the Demodogs lets out a harsh screech as your blade pierces its skin. It crumbles to the ground, giving Steve just enough of an opening to begin running towards the bus. When he goes to run, you notice one of the Demodogs eying him, and before you can even process what’s happening, you’re throwing yourself in front of him and you feel nails tear at your ribs.
You scream, clutching at your side in agony, feeling blood quickly beginning to spill from your wound. “Fuck!”
“Y/N!” Steve starts to run toward you, pale with fear.
“No!” You shove him back towards the bus; you can’t let him get hurt because of you. “Go, I’ll be fine!”
He tries to argue, but you take a deep breath and grip his jacket tightly, practically flinging him inside the bus just before Dart lunges again. Together, the two of you stumble up the steps and barricade the door.
As soon as it’s closed, Dart begins slamming against it with his entire body.
Steve uses his legs to hold the door closed while you lay sprawled on the ground, trying to steady your breathing as more blood spills from you. The room is spinning and you’re pretty sure you can taste blood in your mouth.
Awesome. Cool.
The kids are screaming and Dart’s body causes the entire bus to rock as his friends now join, throwing their own bodies against the bus as well.
“Are they rabid or something?” Max screams, but everyone ignores her.
Steve, quick as ever, finds a spare piece of metal and wedges it against the door and uses his legs again to hold it in place. He looks over at you on the ground and feels his heart jump to his throat. You’re pale, a sheen of sweat now dotted across your forehead, and there’s now a concerningly large pool of blood where you lay. “Dustin, go help your sister!”
Dustin looks up and finally notices your injury and almost faints at the sight. In a daze, he runs over to you and kneels down, terrified of how much blood there is. “Oh my god.”
“I’m fine,” you wince, trying to clench your teeth and bear through the pain. “Honestly, this is like a paper cut.”
“Y/N–” The sound of glass shattering cuts Dustin off as a Demodog breaks through the window. Everyone screams, and your brother grabs your arms and drags you further towards the back of the bus to avoid any glass getting on you.
Wearily, you watch as Steve does whatever he can with his bat, and a part of you wants to laugh. He looks like he’s playing the hardest game of wack-a-mole ever.
Meanwhile, Lucas and Max have joined you and Dustin. When they see you, Lucas lets out a choked scream while Max covers her eyes.
“Are you okay?” Lucas kneels over you as well, and you find his sincerity endearing. He’s always been the sweetest in the group, the most comforting.
“Never been better,” you wheeze out.
Dustin instructs Lucas to stay with you while he tries to radio for help. “Is anyone there? Mike? Will? God? Anyone!”
“God would be pretty nice to have.” You remark, pain making you even more delirious than usual.
Max looks at Lucas. “She’s losing it.”
“I think I’m doing great, all things considered.”
Dustin continues to scream into his walkie for help while Lucas tries to stop your bleeding. Max is running around, looking for anything to help, and Steve is still stuck at the front of the bus playing wack-a-mole with Demodogs.
The situation is so fucking grim, and you’ve never wanted to laugh more.
Then, to make matters even worse, the ceiling of the bus starts to creak. You see the faint outlines of what suspiciously looks like Demodog footprints on the roof. In slow, agonizing footsteps, Dart makes his way over to the emergency exit on top.
He leers over, and Max, who is at the bottom of the ladder, screams.
Steve shoves the kids back and you try to get up, but Lucas pushes you down and shakes his head at you.
“You want some? Come get this!” Steve places himself between Dart and you and the kids, screaming at the thing and waving his bat around, and you’ve never been more attracted to him.
Dart lets out a blood curdling screech, his mouth full of rows of razor sharp teeth that killed your cat just the other day, and you cling onto Lucas’ hand. Another screech, and just before Dart strikes at Steve, it jumps off the bus and runs away.
Everyone freezes, unsure what to do, as more distant growls and howls can be heard from outside. Steve and the rest stand up, and you notice Lucas holding Max’s hand, and at least something good came out of this hellhole of a day.
“Any help here?” You finally ask after a minute or so, still lying helplessly on the ground as you bleed.
“Shit!” Steve drops his bat. “Where did it get you, where’s the bleeding? Dustin, did we pack any bandages, or–or an EMT stretcher or–”
“Steve,” you grab his hand, urging him to calm down. “It scratched the fuck out of my ribcage, but I’m not dying. I promise.”
“You’re not?” Dustin asks, tears in his eyes.
“I’m not. I just…” you shift, wincing at the pain. “I just really need a bandage and I’ll be good as new.”
Steve swallows, a frenzied look in his eyes, and nods. Without thinking, he tears a piece of your bloodied cardigan off and gently lifts your body up so that he can wrap the shred of cloth around you. He weaves it tight, his movements slow and delicate, his eyes never leave yours.
You can feel his hands shaking as he tends to your wound and ties the cloth with a knot. When he’s done, even though you’re aware of the kids’ eyes on you two, you bring his hands to your lips and kiss them. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” He whispers, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. Dustin coughs, which seems to make Steve remember where he is, and he clears his throat. “Right, well. Try not to lose any more blood, yeah?”
“I’ll try,”
Steve nods and stands back up, knowing Dustin and Lucas will want a moment with you, and makes his way back outside. He knows that they’re all still in danger, even if for some reason the Demdogs seem to have left.
Once Steve is gone, Dustin and Lucas help you stand, and as soon as you’re up, both boys try their best to give you a hug without hurting you.
“Don’t do that ever again,” Dustin sniffs, squeezing your uninjured side tightly.
“What he said,” Lucas sniffs as well, though he tries to hide his tears from you.
You laugh, your own tears evident as you hold the boys tight. “I promise.”
“You saved Steve,” Max notes, though her tone is neutral, you can see she’s impressed.
“I had to even out a debt.”
“Guys,” Steve calls from outside. “The coast is clear.”
Slowly, you and the kids make your way out of the bus. It takes some help from both Dustin and Lucas, but eventually you’re able to walk on your own, holding your side, and walk down the steps.
“You okay?” Steve is by your side as soon as you’ve stepped down, holding you so that he’s not touching your cut. You’re thankful for his support, the pain still making you feel woozy.
“We’ll talk later,” you motion towards the kids, not wanting to worry them any further.
He nods, although he hates that you feel like you can’t focus on your own safety.
“What happened?” Lucas asks the group.
“I don’t know.” Max looks around, and you think she’s finally starting to understand what she’s gotten herself into.
Dustin points to you and Steve. “Maybe they scared ‘em off?”
“No,” Steve shakes his head. It couldn’t have been that easy. “No way.”
“They’re going somewhere.” You finish for him, confirming your worst fears. Suddenly, more pain shoots through you and you wince again, squeezing your eyes shut.
Steve bends his head down, guiding you a bit away from the kids so that they won’t hear. “Hey, we don’t have to follow them. We can go home, you know.”
“We can’t.” You clench your jaw as pain rings throughout your body. The goddamn Demodog got you good. “We have to follow. It’s all connected, Will and his episodes, Nancy and Jonathan with the detective, and I’ll be damned if I back down now.”
“So we follow?��� Steve asks, trusting whatever call you make.
You nod, knowing you have to do this. While you guys are safe for now, you know that everyone else has to be in danger; you have to protect them. “Unfortunately.”
-
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#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#stranger things#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things rewrite#slowburn#angst#wtlws#m's writing#this chapter almost killed me#but bug and steve FINALLY TALKED !!!!#also ilu lucas ur my baby
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inspired by this post by @ruelogy
ao3
Eddie knows he got to Hawkins a little later than everyone else. He wasn't born and raised in the six miles of town with the same eight people his whole life. There was a whole social services kerfuffle that meant he didn't land in this small town hell hole until he was the ancient age of thirteen. He knows he's destined to forever be the freaky new kid with the shaved head and the group home eyes who joined in the eighth grade. But even without all that he is fucking positive that there was no Henderson in any of his three graduating classes.
Yet here Henderson the supposed younger sits painting him a mystery week after week. Steve said this, Steve did that, Steve may very well be a delusion if the way the others giggle and sigh every time he gets brought up is any indication. Cause it goes like this: Henderson comma Dustin is a fellow Hawkins transplant. Son of a single mother -- divorced or widowed, Eddie knows enough now to be sure that fueled the Hawkins gossip mill for weeks -- who brought her young son with her. Son, singular. Dustin joined the first grade class of Michael Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair, and William Byers and that is as they say history. If there had been sons, plural, this mysterious older brother should have by all of Eddie's figurings joined Hawkins junior high right around the same time as a miserable Eddie. There should have been whispers about two new kids, there should have been someone for him to commiserate with, befriend.
Yet week after week young Dustin sits at Hellfire spinning yarns of a brother who was, what, homeschooled? Sent to a private military academy? Boarding school? Stayed at home with the mysterious father that Dustin doesn't mention -- and Eddie knows enough about fathers that go unmentioned not to break the silence -- but suddenly decided after he graduated to come join his mother and brother in Hawkins? Cause the thing is, Hawkins isn't that big. If pressed he's pretty sure he could name at least 90% of both of the classes he was supposed to graduate with and at least 75% of the group he's stuck with this year. He'd at the very least recognize them on sight, and not just cause he's dealt to the greater portion of the high school. Eddie pays attention, there are only like 400 students at the high school at any time, he should by all accounts be able to say, "Oh yeah that scrawny, bespectacled loser is Steve Henderson."
Except maybe there is no Steve Henderson, he's already faintly sure there's no Suzie so what's one more fictional friend from Dustin Henderson. Maybe this Steve is just the product of a fractured mind brought on by too much hands on parenting. Eddie knows people think all of his bad behavior is the product of underparenting, but if the opposite causes imaginary siblings he'll take the hand he got thank you very much.
Cause, sure he's doing his best to be third time lucky with this whole high school thing. He does know that compared to the should be starry eyed, but actually unsettlingly wary freshmen he is an ancient being of chaos. Yes, he feels every ounce of the five year gap between 19 and 14 when he speaks to them. But beyond all of that, he is still young. Still capable of swooning now and then; and the now is when Dustin describes his big brother and the then was all the other times Henderson the older has been detailed.
"Well that's cause I'm not really sorry, Mike," Henderson is on a tear already when he makes it to Hellfire, "I told you I have plans already."
"It's not that big a deal," Lucas placates, "we can do it another day."
"My parents won't be out of town another day," Mike sneers, "Will, you wouldn't ditch out on an all night Nintendo marathon for a date with Steve would you?" He says it like Will is the voice of the populace or something.
Maybe he is, and going by the way Will flushes a bright pink up to his bowlcut the voice of the people would in fact rather go out with Steve Henderson than hang out in a basement playing video games.
"It's not a date, he's my brother, and yeah dude I'm gonna skip out on watching you scream at Mario to go to an all night Stephen King movie marathon." Dustin says.
And swoon. That sounds like a dream.
"Like Steve would ever do something that cool, you can just say your mom won't let you come over cause my parents aren't gonna be home." Mike is surlier than usual, a trait he has noticed happens a lot when Henderson the elder gets broached. Eddie's theories range from misplaced sibling jealousy to repressed queer crush on Steve.
"C'mon kiddies save the tantrums for your mommies," he doesn't have a taste for it regardless of the answer, puberty is a bitch he's glad to be seeing the back of and Wheeler can go from being an angel to the kind of brat you do want to narc on just a little. "The rest of us have hoards to slay, maidens to save, things that don't involve listening to your play date fall apart."
He desperately wants to ask Henderson where they're movie night is taking place, because it sounds amazing and not at all because he wants to finally see this mysterious brother.
“It wasn’t even mine!” Henderson is moaning by the time Eddie makes it from O’Donnells to the cafeteria. He wasn’t that late, five minutes to plead his case for his grade at most, but Henderson could monologue with the best of them and it took about as much to get the kid going as it did Eddie, which was saying something.
“And you and Erica made fun of what was under my bed.” Lucas says with a smirk and a roll of his eyes.
“What was under your bed?” Will asks.
“We are not going to let Dustin get out of the fact that his Mom found his Star Trek porn that easily,” Mike shrieks, he sounds like he’s trying to mind his volume but it’s still too loud for a public venue, “You gave me shit for weeks about that Penthouse you found under my bed.”
“We gave you shit because you stole it from your dad,” Lucas corrects, not that anyone but Eddie hears it.
Cause as Lucas speaks Dustin is shouting, “It wasn’t fucking mine! It has to be Steve’s but try telling my mom anything about her favorite son.”
Three sets of disbeliving eyes look over at Dustin, but it’s Mike who says, “There’s no fucking way anyone is gonna believe it was Steve’s dude, just give it up.”
“I don’t even like Star Trek that much!”
Eddie has been having dreams of a mystery boy with a gorgeous head of hair and Dustin’s sweet smile. He likes horror but will pretend to get scared so he has a reason to hide his face in Eddie’s neck, and when he gets there he’s a biter. “Now, now Henderson, what kind of self-respecting nerd doesn’t enjoy the dulcet tones of Mr. Spock.”
Henderson wrinkles his little nose, what a twerp or maybe he’s thinking of his brother’s zine again, “It’s okay, but who goes to sci-fi for philosophy when you could watch space battles and deathstars.”
Eddie spares a prayer for Dustin’s English grade. “Well at least one Henderson has taste.”
He’s never had a younger sibling in Hellfire before, Gareth and Joey are only children and Jeff is way older than his miracle baby sister, so it is a treat to watch the way Henderson goes red, white, and then green as he cycles through a series of emotions surrounding his brother so fast it gives Eddie a headache.
“Dude, he probably bought it for you not knowing what it was,” Mike says, “it’s not like Steve is watching Star Trek.”
"You didn't see it."
"Maybe it was a prank?"
Eddie tunes them out, returning to the Steve in his imagination. They're slipping out of the movie they just finished, the one they bought tickets for, Steve giggles -- Eddie thinks he'd have a nice laugh, thinks he makes his brother laugh a lot -- and tugs him into The Voyage Home. "You gonna think of your favorite captain while we hide in the back row, Stevie?"
"Kirk is an Admiral now, he has been for three movies. Some fan you are."
He wonders if it’s creepy, this mental file he’s compiling on Henderson’s brother. It’s not like he knows the guy, truly a backwards fucking miracle in this two stoplight nothing of a town, but Eddies’ always liked something that he can sink his teeth into and pull apart. That’s what Steve Henderson feels like to him, like if a rubix cube was also a steak. He’s lost track of the metaphor in his own head, it’s whatever.
Cause Steve Henderson loves horror movies, but watches sappy romance flicks with his mom when they both have the same day off. Steve Henderson’s favorite color is yellow, but he only wears it on days that he can barely get out of bed; Dustin says that like it’s a warning sign for the others “Steve has his yellow sweater on today,” explaining away his absence at the arcade that afternoon. Steve Henderson could have any girl he wants -- this factoid Eddie takes with a salt, lime, and tequila -- but he never goes on dates anymore and only hangs out with his best friend and coworker. Steve Henderson baked a brownie so good Jeff moaned in the middle of Hellfire but can only over or undercook pasta when he tries.
Dustin loves his brother. Dustin thinks he’s the worst person to ever grace this side of the planet.
That Eddie thinks is at least typical for siblings, barring the Byers who seem to be so close knit they’d put the Bradys to shame.
“Henderson, my man, why the long face? We’re about to begin the most dangerous leg of your quest yet!” Hellfire was getting a delayed start -- the drama club was actually using their prop closet, go figure -- it was just him and Henderson lurking outside so Eddie did have to find his fun where he could get it.
“Steve and Robin went up to Indianapolis and they’re gonna be gone the whole weekend.” And yeah, he probably could have guessed it was about big brother Henderson. Dusty has the cutest case of hero worship when he wasn’t wishing big brother dead. “They say they aren’t dating, and it’s just for her birthday, but a weekend trip seriously it screams romance.”
“And you’re mad they didn’t bring you?”
“I could have been out of the way! Do you know the kind of specialty tech shops they have up there? I need some things you can't get in Hawkins to improve Cerebro and it's twice as much to get them mail order. I could make myself scarce for a couple hours so they can get it on.
He smacks the bill of Dustin’s cap, knocking it down over his eyes, but nobly refrains from giving him a noogie, “Dusty if you ever want to pop your little Mormon girl’s cherry, maybe don’t say shit like ‘get it on.’”
“Suzie is an angel, don’t be crude, man.” Dustin’s hands are quick as they smack him away, that must be another little brother trait.
“An angel, huh, another point in the ‘girlfriend isn’t real’ category. How many imaginary friends do you have, kid? A girlfriend in Utah and a brother that no one but your party has seen.”
The rest of Hellfire starts to trickle in, having used their time waiting for their table more wisely than Eddie has. Dustin’s comment is delayed only momentarily as he says hi to the rest of the freshmen that he definitely saw only a few minutes ago. “For the record, Suzie is very real. And you…” It’s the way he trails off that makes Eddie nervous, the way a light goes on in his eyes that sets the hair at the back of his neck on end. His danger instincts are finely honed and that's the same, 'I'm smarter than you look' Henderson was wearing when he managed to sniff out half the traps Eddie had laid out last session. "You should meet Steve, I bet I could get him to pick us up next week instead of Nancy."
He thinks this must be what the raccoons behind the trailer park feel like. The obvious trap of the shiny silver cage that's been baited so sweet it's hard to resist walking in anyway. "Sure, Henderson, tell the mysterious brother to stop by. Have him bring one of those zines that definitely belongs to him."
Dustin is especially vicious as dispatches with every creature that Eddie throws at him that day. It’s hard to be that upset, he’s feeling pretty fat and happy sitting in whatever animal control rodent trap Henderson thinks he’s got him in.
The next week’s session comes in a haze of vague daydreams and intense session prep. He’s had Steve Henderson on the brain for so long that he all but forgot about his little tête-à-tête with Dustin the week before. Forgot if not for the way that Baby Henderson is vibrating at the Hellfire lunch table when Eddie arrives.
“Steve is coming to get us from Hellfire today!” Eddie personally thinks this doesn’t quite deserve the level of reaction that it’s getting, but Henderson is so worked up no one even needs to prompt him to keep him going. “He had to leave right after his weekend trip to go deal with lawyers and shit.”
“Are they still..?” Lucas trails off, he’s clearly concerned but for all that Eddie hates that the kid is looking down the barrel of jock life he is extremely emotionally adept.
“Mom and Steve both said it was handled now. They won’t answer me when I ask any questions.”
Ominous, everything about Steve Henderson was so fucking weird. A kid who didn’t exist all through high school, that he’s never seen in town, who has lawyers now?
“Maybe Hop could,” the kid started to ask, hopeful.
“Mom says that it’s Steve’s business and we should all stay out of it unless he asks for our help.” Will responds by rote, something he’s clearly already tried before.
“So the infamous Steve Henderson is going to grace us with his presence today?” Eddie knows the answer already, but like most of his vices he can't resist indulging.
"He's taking us all out for ice cream after," Dustin agrees, "you could come too Eddie, I'm sure Steve wouldn't mind!"
"Steve minds everything," Mike grouses.
"Steve always buys your triple scoop sundae."
Eddie thinks Steve Henderson would have elegant fingers. He thinks about how they might toy with the straw of his milkshake while he smiles, coy and teasing, at Eddie, who he's charmed by. This Steve lets Eddie snatch the cherry from his drink, blushes when he gets his stem returned tied in a knot by Eddie's tongue.
"Well if Steve is buying, who am I to refuse an invitation?"
He does not end Hellfire early because Steve Henderson is coming.
He does, by pure coincidence, need to piss 15 minutes before things are set to wrap up. If that gives him enough time to clean himself up a bit that's just luck. This isn't for Steve Henderson.
His bathroom break, and definitely not pre-date primp session, puts him at the back of the pack when Steve Harrington's maroon beemer pulls into the lot. It feels a little bit like sophomore year again. When his hair was in another awkward stage of growing out and curled around his ears, he didn't have his mom to help him with the curls anymore and he didn't know what to do with them now that they seemed to twist and turn in new directions post-buzz. He caught the sweetest looking boy with puppy dog eyes staring and he'd been so embarrassed about getting caught he'd touched his own locks. Hairsprayed into oblivion and locked firmly into place the touch was ripped away and a shy, 'what can you do' smile was shared between the two of them. It feels a bit like junior year when Steve Harrington broke the keg stand record as a sophomore. Rounding the corner from tipsy into drunk or maybe bypassing it altogether for blackout, he wandered over into Eddie's domain. He had that same shy little wave, but a stronger confidence. He sidled up to Eddie and wrapped a curl around a finger. He tugged, just a bit, the way kids do when they want to see if it'll bounce back. "Yknow you'd be pretty if you were a girl." The slip slide of his definitely drunk tone didn't take Eddie out at the knees any less.
The car curves up closer to the front steps and Henderson is shaking like a rocket leaving Canaveral. He actually starts to take a step toward the still moving car when four hands clamp down on him saving Steve last-name-to-be-determined from a vehicular manslaughter charge. Eddie is the last to release him when he hears that car slide into park. The engine has barely had time to rumble to a stop before Steve Harrington is out of it. A toothy smile splits his face and, hidden behind Byers and Wheeler, Eddie watches as Steve Harrington proceeds to engage in the nerdiest fucking handshake he's ever seen. Steve Harrington finishes dying by what seems to be lethal lightsaber disembowelment and waves at the other three teens.
"Alright let's rock n roll if you twerps want ice cream before I drop you off. Joyce will kill me if you're late."
"Steve, can Eddie come with us?"
As Henderson asks Eddie now sees the exact size and shape of the trap he is in. The actually dweeby, dungeon master and drug dealer forced to watch the hot, once cool older brother bow to the obligation of Midwestern courtesy now that he's been ambushed with Eddie's existence. Or worse he'll have to stand there and pretend to be unbothered while King Steve shoots both Hendersons hopes and Eddie's dreams in the face with one curled lip.
He never could have imagined the furrow of confusion between his brows. The way lips wrap themselves around his name, tasting it. He hadn't, in his many fantasies, pictured golden brown eyes though he often thought of them snapping up to him like they were now.
A rosy blush blooms across Steve's face. He has the same shy finger wave he did as a freshman. "Depends, Dust, are you gonna give up your shotgun dibs or are you gonna make your troop leader sit in the back with the rest of the Party.”
He watches as if in slow motion as Henderson lunges for Steve, the elder is laughing as the younger wraps his arms around his neck. There is something very intensely attractive about the lingering jock of it all. How Steve is still upright even as his teenage brother dangles from his neck. “You know it’s Dungeon Master, you get it right with Erica!”
“I have a lot of respect for Erica, the things she does with goblins and kobolds is masterful. You asked me about the lead up to a trap so obvious it felt like an eagle scout showing his little cubbies poison ivy." It's bitchy and nerdy in all the best ways, and then Steve H- Steve looks up at him and winks, "No offense, Munson."
"None taken, Stevie." That seems to catch them both by surprise, the lack of a certain last name to fall back to -- and weeks of imagining what it might be like to interact with the guy who is and isn't right in front of him -- has Eddie overly familiar. "I drove here though." His van stands like a monolith alone in the middle of an empty parking lot.
"Oh."
"But I could meet you there? Are you going to the Dairy Queen by the library or the haunted one?"
"It's not actually haunted," Byers pipes in with frightening sincerity.
"But yeah, the haunted one," Steve says with a boy next door grin.
"Then I will meet you and your charges there Sir Henderson." He bows and only immediately regrets it, now that the once Harrington lord of the school is out of his line of sight. His brain feels like it could short out, faulty wires sparking against memories and daydreams and general hormones.
A sheepie he saved from the slaughter snorts, another - probably Mike - whispers "Gross." There's a grunt that Eddie hopes is the traitor catching an elbow from one of the others.
But it doesn't. fucking. matter because Steve Whatever laughs, practically giggles at Eddie and his antics.
And Dustin's rocket has come in for a rough landing, "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"
Steve's hand envelopes the top of Dustin's head, he nearly palms it. It's not quite a noogie, more like he shakes his head for him. "Dusty-bun, why would you regret introducing me to your Dork Mother?"
"I'm gonna tell Ma you're being a bitch again."
"She won't believe you, I'm her favorite." He shoots another wink toward Eddie, a joke he's being allowed in on.
Level headed Dustin Henderson, who explained to him, in depth, how getting overly emotional impairs higher level critical thinking, stomps his foot. "You're so full of shit."
"I am. She chose me, she got stuck with you."
"Steve!"
He laughs at the despair he's caused, ruffling cap covered hair again until Dustin stomps out of reaching distance to climb in the Beemer with the other boys. Brown eyes are bright with mischief when he looks to Eddie, and he's struck by a thought. He was right, he hadn't ever met Steve Henderson before today. This is not the same boy who sat in the cafeteria with a closed mouth smile listening to Tommy H. and Carol. "Let me walk you to your car?" He asks.
"It's right there, Stevie, and do you really want to leave that band of miscreants alone with your car?" He's playing with fire, but the fear of getting burned has never stopped him before. He leans in close, whispers, "They might steal it."
Steve pales, a haunted look in his eye. He shakes it off, squeezing his eyes shut tight, and that soft smile slips across his face again. "Let me watch you leave then." That smile slides into a smirk, as he looks Eddie up and down.
He was right about getting burned, his face feels like it's on fire as he flees the scene. His tail is definitely not tucked between his legs because Steve is absolutely staring at his ass right now. He doesn't remember how walking is supposed to feel, but it's probably not like this. It would be embarrassing, the fact that he probably looks like a baby deer discovering he has knees for the first time, if it weren't more important that he makes sure each foot is planted so he doesn't acquaint himself with the ground below him. Safely encased in the van, he chances a look through the windshield and confirms that Steve is watching him.
He waves, and yeah it is gratifying to see the guy who at one point had half the girls in school fawning over him duck his head like he's embarrassed at getting caught staring. Sinclair leans up from the back seat, Eddie watches him clap Steve on the shoulder and make a comment on… something, probably him. It makes the rest of the car laugh and Steve thunk his head down on the steering wheel. The horn sounds, an echoing burst of noise that cuts off just as quickly as it starts when Steve jumps in his seat. The seat belt stops his jump short, and he sends another flustered wave Eddie's way when he notices him still watching.
Maybe he'll mention this to Little Red, his new neighbor has mentioned stealing young Henderson's brother and making him a Mayfield instead. A joke that makes a little more sense now. Sinclair has been making moon eyes at her and baby Hopper at lunch for the last week. That will be a better punishment than anything Eddie could do to him at the table.
He waves back at Steve, gives him his most winning smile -- the one he practiced in the mirror for charming pretty boys if he ever got out of the armpit of Indiana. Mimes driving like he's in a bad movie. Across twenty feet and two windows, he can't hear Steve laugh, needs to get to somewhere where he can. He can see the smile though, the dorky thumbs up.
He lets the Beemer pull out in front of him, watches it for just a moment as reality sets in. Reality. He's going to meet Steve Henderson for soft serve. It's a dream come true.
Arwen shifts into gear, and he slides out behind Steve and the sheepies. A whole new world of daydreaming unlocked.
Maybe next week Steve Henderson will let Nancy pick the kids up next week. He'll slip in the back doors of the school, unnoticed by everyone. Stealth bonus obscene for a fighter class. Eddie is moving slow as he moves minis and graph paper maps into the tackle box Wayne gave him, back to the door he misses his rogue slip through the door until he's already grappled.
"Was it a good game, Munson? You win?"
"It's not like one of your sports, Henderson, the wins aren't as clear cut."
Hands start to wander, "Isn't any time you pull one over on the Party kind of a victory?"
"In which case I do stand victorious, your sweet baby brother lost his brand new axe to a mimic."
"Hmm, you know what we used to do after a victory in my 'sports?'"
A hand has migrated to an especially interesting place. "What?"
"We'd hit the showers."
Eddie shakes himself out of the daydream, easing just the smallest bit harder onto the accelerator. He needs something to cool himself off with. He also really wants to see Steve again, to make up for lost time.
#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#steve henderson#eddie munson#ruelogy#inspired by another amazing tumblr ficlet#it put worms in my brain and then this happened
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Inspired by this post where the older kids get walkie-talkies
“Hey Birdie, is the Master with you?”
Steve’s call got no response, even though he knew Robin never went far without her walkie-talkie.
“Birdie? Is the Master with you?”
Steve was about to get irate until he realize why she wasn’t responding and let out the biggest sigh and eye roll.
“Is the Master with you? Over.”
Finally a crackle came on. “He is indeed. Over.”
“Can you tell him to bring some chocolate chips when you guys come over? ....Over.”
“Can do! Over.”
“Excuse me”, Eddie’s voice came on the line. “Why doesn’t Birdie get the shopping list? Over.”
“Because she’ll either forget to go to the store, or go and get distracted and buy everything except what I asked for. Over.”
“You know me so well~ Over.”
“This is blatant favoritism. Over.”
“I’ll give you the first pick of cookies for your troubles. Over.”
“Complain rescinded.”
Steve smiled. “What was that?”
“Complaint rescinded. Over.”
---------
It had started with Nancy giving them the walkie-talkies, which seemed out of character for her until she gave the reason. They were only able to save Max because they had instant communication. And when they couldn’t reach the gang in California, it felt hopeless. So it had been a precaution. If anything happened, they’d have these. Spring Break came and went. As did the rest of spring. And their purpose quickly went from emergency communication to anything that came to their minds. The first time the kids found out about it, they decried copying.
Nancy was quick to say theirs was more serious. And it was true to an extent. They had codenames, they had protocols they followed. No one ever said Code Red without meaning it. The one time it had been used, Steve called on it after Robin got hit by a car trying to save a kid. If you asked anyone else, they would’ve said he was hysterical. If you asked Steve, he was appropriately concerned for his friend who was hanging by a thread. She walked away with a bruised rib and a couple of stitches.
“This is Wave Rider, asking for permission to land. Over”, Argyle said.
“This is the Master, you are granted. Over.”
Both boys gave each other goofy grins as they stood across from each other in front of Eddie’s trailer.
“Nancy would kill you two if she saw you using them in close proximity”, Jonathan said.
“What she won’t know won’t kill her, right?”, Eddie said.
“You don’t need to tell him twice”, Argyle grinned.
Jonathan gave him a good-natured nudge while the three of them went inside.
------
Steve and Robin had left Family Video and now worked at a nearby convenience store. The You Suck/Rule board had returned. Dustin vaguely remembered it. When he saw all the You Suck tallies, he figured Steve was repeatedly striking out with girls again.
“Maybe you should give up on chicks for a while”, he said one day, when he came for a slushie. “Doesn’t seem like it’s your forte nowadays.”
Steve slumping onto the counter made sense. But Robin’s raucous laughter, not so much.
“This is Birdie to Jonner-Than-You, come in. Over.”
“Jonner-Than-You here, Birdie. What’s your status? Over.”
“Apparently Loverboy here needs to give up on women. Dusty Buns says they’re not his forte.”
Dustin was about to argue that call sign when he heard Jonathan laugh the loudest he had ever heard.
Unbeknownst to him, the board wasn’t for whenever Steve struck out with girls. It was specifically when he struck out with Eddie whenever he came into their little corner of 7-11 heaven.
------------
“Big Wheel to the Master. Come in. Over.”
“The Master reporting. What’s up? Over.”
“Is Mini Wheels with you? Over?”
There was what could only be described as indignant squawking on the other end of the line. That confirmed her brother was indeed on the other end of the call.
“That’s a roger on that. Over.”
“Tell him that even if he’s in high school, he still has a curfew. And I’m not covering for him again. Over.”
“I’ll make sure he gets the message. Over.” Eddie looked over to Mike. “Hey Mini Wheels!”
“Stop calling me that!”
---------------
The six of them had gotten together for an afternoon hangout that slowly trickled down. Nancy had to get home, Jonathan left to meet up with a study group, and as day turned to night, Argyle drove Robin to her shift at the store. Which left Eddie and Steve alone at the Harrington Residence to finish off the movie they’d started.
Steve could do this. He could be smooth. He’d been striking out because the fact it was Eddie and not just some random girl made the stakes higher. Made him doubt himself. But the King Steve shit hadn’t been totally a lie. He could bring back just a bit. Enough to get Eddie to melt in his hands.
It started with playing with his hair and giving him meaningful looks. He’d made out with girls while a movie was on a bunch of times. Depending on how ready they were, it could be easy to pull them out of it.
When Eddie looked for too long at his lips, Steve knew he had him.
“Can I try something?”, Steve asked while curling a long lock around his finger.
Eddie nodded hesitantly before swallowing. “Y-yeah, go for it, dude.”
Steve leaned in slow, giving Eddie a chance to back out. He didn’t. The kiss was slow and warm and Steve’s hand went deeper into his hair. When he pulled away, Eddie came with him for a second kiss. This one went deeper and had Eddie pushing Steve back against the couch. When they parted this time, Steve felt like he was in a daze, when a realization came to him.
He jolted up, nearly knocking Eddie off the couch as he reached for the walkie-talkie. “This is Loverboy to Birdie. Put a point down for I rule cause Harrington’s still got it baby!”, he said, snapping excitedly.
“Bullshit”, Robin replied.
Eddie took the device from Steve. “This is the Master, confirming the Harrington does in fact, still have it. Over.” He then dropped the walkie-talkie onto the floor and went back to kissing Steve.
Argyle had made the astute observation that Robin had put down a tally right after he’d done a transaction with Steve, but Eddie hadn’t wanted to believe he had anything to do with that scoreboard.
-----------
“This is Jonner-Than-You, confirming the retrieval and delivery of five nuggets and a tall drink. Over.”
“Loverboy responding, it’s supposed to be six nuggets, a tall drink, and three sides. Over.”
“Mad Max went off to have dinner with Lucky Number and the sides are not cooperating. Over.”
“You tell the rest of that club that they better get their asses in that van. Nancy, Argyle, and I didn’t slave over a hot stove just for them to-”
Jonathan held up the walkie to the rest of the Hellfire club to hear all of Steve’s tirade. No one turned down an invitation to Sunday dinner. No one.
----------
The six of them laid out in the middle of a field, blissed out. For once, none of them had anywhere to be or anything to do. A perfect opportunity to waste time by passing a joint and watching the sky.
Jonathan picked up his walkie-talkie. “This is Jonner-Than-You reporting in. I love you guys.”
“Birdie to Jonner-Than-You, I love you too.”
“Um, Loverboy to Birdie. You’re supposed to love me best. Over.”
“Wave Rider responding. There’s enough love to go around. You should know that Loverboy.”
“You guys are high as fuck. Over”, Eddie said.
“Big Wheel to the group. Quit wasting your batteries. Over.”
“Birdie to Big Wheel. Not until you admit you love us. Over.”
That started a chant of “Love us. Love us.” through the walkie-talkies which made it reverberate even more until Nancy was covering her ears and everyone ditched the walkie-talkies to dog pile on top of her. Only then did she admit she loved these idiots.
#apo writes#fanfiction#stranger things#spicy six#pushing my nancy is big wheel mike is mini wheel agenda#steve harrington#robin buckley#eddie munson#nancy wheeler#jonathan byers#argyle#can we get this man a last name?#steddie#i had a lot of fun coming up with some of the names#also stobin just work together always#they apply together#interview together#get the job together#they are a set#do not separate them
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Bet
written for @steddiemicrofic prompt: ‘pool’ | wc: #442 | rated: G | cw: none
“So,” Steve started as he plopped down on the floor next to Eddie, handing him a beer. “Who do you thinks is gonna win the pool?”
All the older teens stared at him, previous conversations stopping. “The pool?”
“The betting pool the Party has on when Eddie and I will get together.”
Jonathan frowned. “I thought you told them you were dating?”
“I did.”
“Alright, explain this to me.” Robin demanded, leaning forward from her sprawl on the couch.
Steve laughed. “So Eddie and I went on a date about a month ago, right? When we went stargazing.” He directed that last part towards Eddie. At everyone’s nod, he continued. “The Party asked if they could watch movies here that night. I told then no and well, you know how they get - they immediately started asking why they can’t have movie night here.”
“Oh boy.”
“So I told them, ‘I’ve got a hot date.’ But that’s not enough, they’re so nosy, they started demanding to know who I was going out with. Pretty sure Dustin was hoping I would say Robin.” He rolled his eyes.
“When is he going to give that up!” Robin grumbled.
Steve nodded his agreement. “Seriously, I have no idea why he is so convinced we are dating. Anyway, when they wouldn’t stop asking, I told them Eddie and I were going to the quarry.”
“Let me guess,” Nancy broke in, “they all groaned and made some comment about keeping your secrets.”
Steve grinned. “Got it in one. They stopped asking but then I overheard them yesterday talking about when we would actually get together. Apparently we are still pining over each other, maybe because they’ve never seen us make out?”
“Oh my god.” Nancy and Jonathan both looked particularly despairing given that their brothers were both part of this.
“Yeah, they were bringing up different things as ‘evidence.’ For not realizing we are actually dating, they were surprisingly insightful.”
“Like?”
Steve nodded, holding up his hand to count off examples. “Us watching each other, that time Eddie brought me lunch at work, letting him play his music in the Beemer, that one NPC couple he made. Also apparently we are always gazing longingly at each other when the other isn’t looking.”
Everyone laughed. “I mean, they aren’t wrong.” Eddie said. “But also, you’ve told them we went on a date. How are they not getting it?”
"Beats me.” Steve shrugged. “I swear, those kids are so smart but so little common sense.”
Robin nodded. “It’s true. But I think the real question is, are you going to tell them or let them figure it out themselves?”
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Here’s a little something something prompted by @nburkhardt. I wanted to go angstier but she specifically requested a happy ending lol.
Enjoy and leave your thoughts in the comments!
~*~*~*~
As fall grew into winter, Steve started to feel more and more wrong-footed. Gone we’re the dinner invitations from the Wheelers and the drop-in visits from Dustin. They had better things to do, he guessed, than have over the town’s loser for company. Just like the weather, he also grew cold. With each lost invite and every day alone, the chasm in his chest grew until there was only emptiness where his hope used to be.
One day though, it all made sense. Mike and Dustin blew into Family Video with Eddie Munson in tow. They were all laughing and speaking in weird voices that only they understood. It seemed that Steve had been replaced as the “older male figure”, still creepy, and he’d been replaced by Munson. The moat between him and the kids only seemed to widen when he refused to rent them a rated R movie and Eddie rented it himself.
He’d been replaced. After everything they’d gone through, the fate he’d always imagined but hoped wouldn’t, had come. Everywhere he looked, he noticed. He saw Munson driving the kids home from school, saw them walking in town together, and even saw Eddie being invited into the Henderson home for dinner on one particular Tuesday. His worst fear had come true; the kids didn’t need him anymore. Worst yet, it seemed they didn’t even want him.
Instead of wallowing in the well-deserved self-pity, he moves on. Steve distances himself from the kids (not that they notice) and picks up a second job. He doesn’t love working at Melvald’s but Mrs. Byers’ position was open and he was desperate. He needed to save all the money he could so that he and Robin could move once she graduated. Steve couldn’t let her leave without him just because he didn’t have the funds to leave Hawkins. He didn’t know what he’d do if she left him too.
So he worked himself to exhaustion and avoided Robin’s questions at work and Mrs. Henderson’s curious glances at the grocery store. He hides in the back room of Family Video when Munson tracks him down to gloat and locks his front door to avoid the kids if they were ever to come to his house and rub it in.
He continues his melancholic loathing until he couldn’t anymore. Eventually his lack of sleep and empty diet had to catch up to him and catch up to him it did. Embarrassingly, it caught up to him right as he started yelling about Munson replacing him right to Eddie’s face and he passed out in his arms like some damsel in distress.
When he woke up in the hospital, it wasn’t a huge surprise. He’d felt it coming just as he’d felt the kids pulling away. What was a surprise was the ringed hand wrapped in his and the soft lull of someone reading Lord of the Rings to him.
The sleeping Henderson mother sitting in the chair at the end of his bed was also a surprise albeit the hissing cat in her lap was not. God, Steve hated Mews 2.
When everyone woke up, there would be screaming and crying and an outpouring of love. Steve would see that Eddie didn’t replace him but instead aimed to join him as a part of the family. He’d show him through hand-holding, kisses, and bringing Steve lunch in his free period.
Steve could finally see how loved he was as part of the Henderson family. He also saw how fun it was to be the older brother once he could gross Dustin out by flirting with his boyfriend in front of him. And the best part? Eddie liked horrifying the kid too.
#steve and robin still leave when they have enough money#but steve brings Eddie and keeps contact with Dustin and Claudia#ugh not my best work#stranger things#steddie#fanfic#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#dustin henderson#claudia henderson
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I’ll see you in my dreams
Eddie Munson x platonic!reader / Steve Harrington x platonic!reader (this is more Eddie centric though)
WC: 3K+
CW: canon character death, grief, hurt/little comfort, angst, some dark humor, mentions of the afterlife, and the like.
A/N: I started this a while ago to kinda cope with too many losses between last year and this one. I’m not fussing over editing this one, bc it was cathartic to just… get out. Sharing this for the few that were interested, but I get not everyone’s up for a sad fic these days. If you do decide to read this, thank you <3 Tell and show your friends you love them, as much as life allows you.
Title is from I’ll see you in my dreams - Bruce Springsteen (but the live version bc it makes me cry like a baby lmao)
—————
You got the call, while hundreds of miles from home.
It’s not like you knew— not really; this was the one time you weren’t home with whatever latest disaster unfolded in Hawkins. You didn’t know the danger that tried to swallow everyone whole.
You didn’t know someone you loved dearly wouldn’t make it back.
A somber tone weighs heavily on those five words: “Did you hear the news?”
In brighter circumstances, different context in a more pleasant timeline, that question could lead to something good, something worth celebrating.
Instead, those words landed on the opposite end of the emotional spectrum; even with lack of context, your heart dropped as they hit your ears.
Maybe to an outsider, that could’ve seemed like a drastic, overnight change, but deep down you knew that this had been building for much longer than one night.
You knew hearing those words on the other end of a line could send everything spiraling, no matter who broke the news, no matter who it involved, your heart would splinter apart. Nothing would ever be the same again.
Especially not after losing Eddie.
—————
A funeral— a traditional, open casket funeral— wasn’t possible, not when Eddie’s body lay rotting away in the Upside Down. Even if he was brought home, it’s not like Hawkins would welcome a funeral for who they saw to be a murderer; it’d be no celebration of his life, or mourning the good person he was, not with the entirety of Hawkins believing he was practically the devil himself.
Even so, you couldn’t make it home in time for the very hush-hush memorial service, only among close friends, and family, being only Wayne, of course.
Everyone in the party were grieving in their own ways, as people do when losing someone they love, but the loss of Eddie had a twisted spin on it.
While your friends here saw him shortly before he was killed, before he gave up his life to try helping everyone else, you had no visual closure. That’d be unbearable, probably more-so than how you’re grieving.
Steve, Robin and Nancy saw him before they split ways with Eddie and Dustin; a plan set in motion to take out Vecna required the separation. Dustin might’ve been the one hit hardest, having to watch Eddie run off to do what he believed was right. The kid, who found one of his older brother figures, bleeding out on the ground once the bats were gone.
Dustin, too young to witness such horrors, too young to face such grief over Eddie, too young to lose his life over something no one could wrap their heads around.
Though not a competition in mourning, that kid had to have the worst grief of them all.
You wondered if the kids on the other side of the country felt such strange, empty “closure” as you did. Though, Mike was the only one out of that group to have any connection with Eddie, being in Hellfire and all.
Then everyone else here, the kids, the older teens— one way or another, little or large, everyone had some kind of connection to Eddie. They all had faced the same living nightmare, even if on different levels, it was all in the same realm of suffering.
Steve, who called you to deliver the bad news, knew very little about Eddie before all of this. Once skeptical of Eddie— and honestly, a little jealous over the way Dustin looked up to him, feeling replaced— towards the end, had hoped if they all made it out alive, maybe the two could be friends. Maybe they weren’t so different after all.
That hope was long gone, now.
And you, what a strange plane of grief you existed on. You left to start life over elsewhere, reluctant to leave your friends, but in need of change. Being away for almost one year, away from your friends, made this loss harder to comprehend.
Eddie would never be home when you’d return. Your mind took that as a “see you soon”, not a “goodbye”; you’ll never see your best friend again, but the distance warped your thoughts into “this is temporary.”
Death is certain, death is final, and you were well aware of that. You often had to remind yourself, though, that he wasn’t just absent because of the miles between you two, but absent forever.
Maybe that’s nowhere near as heavy as the grief everyone else has carried, and will carry until the end of time, but it certainly didn’t make this any easier to cope with.
—————
The quarry seemed like a good, quiet place to cry it out, for some reason.
Lost in your thoughts, daylight slips away; you turn to Steve, who was watching you closely, like you were too fragile to be left alone.
“Hey… you don’t have to stay,” You kick at an empty beer can by your feet, unable to look him in the eye.
You couldn’t look anyone in the eye since coming home.
“I want to.”
You sigh heavily, “Steve—“
“I mean it. We don’t have to talk, or anything.” His voice is gentle, calm, even through the moments it threatens to break. “I— I’m here for you. We all are. You know that, right?”
You nod, pulling your knees to your chest, staring out at the quarry’s water.
“M’here for you too.”
It comes and goes, fluxes and flows; grief is funny like that. Things you’d expect to weigh so heavily on your heart, don’t; instead, the tiniest details of loss engulf you in what feels like a bottomless lake of dread.
“He did this… really stupid thing, always shoving straw wrappers in my glovebox when we’d grab food somewhere.” You chuckled, already bracing yourself for the inevitable. “On the drive back here, I opened the glovebox for my lighter, and all of these— these fucking straw wrappers, all crumpled up in like… like some damn accordion—“ Laugh wavering by the threat of a sob tightening your throat, you shake your head. “Fucking goofball would say he folded them like that so they’d spring out like confetti. And the fucker was right.”
Steve laughs with you, but it’s somber, and before you realize you’re crumbling again, his arm winds around your shoulders, cradling you into his side.
“I cried more over that than when you called me with the news.”
He keeps silent, because right now there are no words to bring comfort, not without forcing a positivity neither of you can or want to carry currently. Sometimes having someone to listen is a little more soothing than screaming into the void.
“I keep— I tried calling him. Took a few rings to realize it’d only be his uncle that’d answer. Can’t listen to the mixtapes he’s made me, ‘cause I can’t bring myself to hear his voice on them with his silly intros. But I tried calling him to hear his voice again anyway. My brain feels… broken.”
The sun is fully set now, with a pink-orange hue lingering in the sky, mismatched to your emotions.
“He never got to fucking graduate. This is so wrong. My best friend is—“ A sob slips out as the force of a bleak reality settles in all over again; it gets cozy, makes itself at home in the walls of your shattered heart, when you never invited it in.
Steve’s rubbing your back softly, signaling quietly to continue, if you need. That’s when the shattered debris of your heart crumble further; at this rate, there’ll be nothing left.
Maybe it’s not so bad being heartless. It’s gotta be easier than feeling … this.
A double edged sword is the human experience, with it’s cruel lesson of grief, whichever path you take. You could be cold, bitter, but lonely, by not allowing anyone in; it’d save you the heartache of losing anyone you love. But you could also love, and be loved, experience this nightmare of life together, rather than stumbling alone; final goodbyes and a hole in your heart are the price to pay.
Maybe, it’s worth living a life rich in love and community, even if the payoff is a grim one.
“I’ll never see him again. None of us will. I kept staring at the door, expecting he’d walk through the door now that I’m home… use the spare key like he always did, waltz right in like everything’s fine. He was the only friend I had that liked going to concerts, or skipping out on a good night’s sleep to take last minute road trips in that janky-ass van of his.
“Now all we have of him are blurry, out of focus pictures, and notes with his goddamned chicken scratch handwriting. Everything in that DnD notebook he kept, all the campaigns and drawings… all his music, his battle vests—“ You glance up at Steve, finally. “The vest he let you wear, you know how many fucking times he stabbed his thumb sewing those patches? I finally got him a thimble so he’d stop jabbing himself with those whip stitches… for what? Now he can’t even fucking use it.”
The tiniest of details of loss really are the culprit of heartbreak.
It pains Steve that this is just one of those things where he can’t protect his friends from the hurt. He can’t shield you or anyone else from the inevitable heartbreak and unpredictable mourning this has and will continue to bring.
“It kills me the two of you didn’t have more time to get to know each other. You’re both Dustin’s favorites, you were so much more alike than either of you realized.” Rubbing your eyes, you murmur, “You’re both my favorite people, too. And I- I should’ve been here, I never should’ve left—“
“No, we all wanted you to be happy, wherever you went. I’m sure Eddie would’ve kept pushing for you to follow your dreams if you tried to stay.” Steve rests his head on yours; the position is a little awkward, with how you hold one another, but it’s a closeness you need, all the same. “I would’ve, too.”
For a few moments, you sit on unspoken words that come to mind; maybe they’re too bold to speak aloud, but your mouth’s always one to be miles ahead from your thoughts.
“You’re not allowed to die before me.”
It’s almost a silly demand, one that makes him snort a little, pulling back with a confused expression.
“What?”
“I mean it. You, everyone, I can’t handle this right now, how the hell would I handle losing anyone else? I could never handle losing you.”
“I’d never be able to handle losing you, either.”
“Well, I said it first, so wait your fucking turn.”
You glare at Steve, bleary-eyed and appearing just as bad as you feel, falling into a stare-off with him. It doesn’t last long; the two of you burst into laughter, real laughter, over how damn ridiculous that exchange was.
“This— this is fucked up to even joke about.”
“Oh, like dark humor’s not up Eddie’s alley? Please.” Your grins, short-lived, fizzle out, leaving the two of you in heavy silence. You don’t mean to break it, especially with such a naive thought, but you do. “He’s really gone… isn’t he?”
Steve nods with a sniffle, not bothering to pull tissues out of his pocket anymore— if there’s any even left to begin with.
“Y’know… back when my parents were around more, my mom told me something kinda comforting when my grandma died.” With a deep breath, his stare falls to the ground beneath the two of you. “I don’t know if it’s true, but she said that people visit you in your dreams after they pass. Kinda like… like, they’re telling you they’re okay on the other side.”
“Did you see your grandma?”
“Yeah, that night, actually. Maybe it’s some weird, psychological thing, ‘cause that’s kinda what dreams are anyway. Just your subconscious trying to tell you shit.”
You lean back, brow quirked in skepticism. “Since when did you become a dream expert?”
He huffs a laugh, “I got desperate trying to cope with the nightmares. Anyway— point is, I think you’ll see Eddie again. Dustin already saw him in his dreams, said he thanked him for trying to help…” Steve hesitates for a second, finishing, “… and for not allowing him to die alone.”
That just feels like a sucker punch straight to the gut.
“What if it’s just a way to cope?” The brain does some fucked up shit when you’re neck deep in pain; you and the others in the group are all too familiar with that.
“If it is, so what? You have to grieve, or it won’t get easier. And Eddie might’ve beat himself up for running away, but he wasn’t the kind of guy to leave without saying goodbye. Not to his friends, at least.”
—————
There’s a full moon tonight, with only its light guiding you through the woods, but you don’t feel unsafe. There’s no sense of threats, or danger. Just calm, like you’re supposed to be here. The clearing of the trees reveal Lovers’ Lake, with Eddie’s van parked right at the edge of the water.
Hope floods through you, overflows into unshed tears and a pace picking up, closing the distance. You round one of the open doors of the van, finding your best friend. He strums lazily along the strings of his guitar, worn notebook laying open, with his famous chicken-scratch penmanship, chaotically covering the pages.
Eddie glances up, warmly smiling at you.
“Hey, punk.”
It’s a voice your heart’s been both aching to hear again, and not ready for, not yet. The sight is even harder to take in, overwhelming as you race through emotions rapidly.
But it’s like nothing’s changed. Nothing is different, not for now, at least.
You greet him like you always have, “Hey, freak.” Climbing into the back of the van, muscle memory almost leads you to your usual spot, a mountain of pillows in the van; this isn’t a casual hang out, though, so you settle next to him, legs dangling over the bumper. “You’re really here.”
“Harrington was right, y’know. I had to say goodbye the way we’d both want.”
There’s a light mist that dances along the lake’s surface, blanketing the entirety of it, but it’s soothing to see. The stars above, brighter than you’ve ever seen in your entire life, shimmer and glitter above.
“Yeah, guess we’re not getting stoned though, huh?”
Eddie sets his guitar behind him, sighing heavily.
“Maybe later, way later, when you make it to this side someday.” He throws an arm around your shoulders, giving a squeeze. “It’s not so bad here… but it’s not like I wanted to be here so soon.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t really get to see you before— before—“ Even here, it’s far too painful to say aloud. “I should’ve been here with you, with everyone—“
“You can’t plan your life around death, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, but it’s— I know it sounds silly, but not seeing you… not being here before you l- left… my mind refuses to believe it. I’m never gonna see you again, and my stubborn brain keeps trying to convince itself you’re still here.”
“That’d be denial, I believe.” He tries coming off lighthearted, but it falls flat. “Y’know I’m always gonna be with you, right? All that corny shit, in your heart and stuff, among the stars— whatever you wanna believe, I’m there.” He pinches his thumb and forefinger together, scrunching his face up as he adds, “I’ll even be in the teeny, tiny, little straw wrappers I hid everywhere in your car.”
“Oh my god, there’s more?!” You laugh through your tears, but it fades out fast. “Well I’m a selfish prick and want you here, with all of us.” Kicking at a pebble, you watch it break the lake’s glassy surface. “How the hell do I keep going without you?”
“I don’t have an answer, but you just… do. Just know it’s not easy for me, either.” Eddie sniffles, then chuckles, “It’s gonna be boring as hell waiting on this side for you guys.”
That finally tugs a hint of a laugh out of you; he squeezes your shoulders again, hand shaking against you.
“I am okay, though. There’s no angry mob ready to burn me at the stake, and no injuries, no pain. No Upside-Down bullshit, like, at all. And, as a wandering soul in the afterlife, I get to watch all the concerts I want, for free. So there’s a perk at least.” He rolls his eyes with a reassuring smile. “Aside from that… you’re gonna be okay, too.”
Eddie pulls away, reaching in his vest pocket— out fly old, crumpled receipts, loose change, some safety pins and dice; it’s a soothing sight, to see nothing changes one’s character when they make it to the other side.
“Aha!” He pulls out necklace cord, with a guitar pick dangling at the end, showing signs of wear, tear, and love over time. Sliding it into your hand, he pushes your fingers to roll into a fist. “Want you to have this.”
“Wh— but your uncle—“
“Dustin gave him the good one,” He snorts, “but my best friend gets the one with history.”
“Is this gonna be like winning the lottery in a dream, only to wake up, still broke?”
Eddie only laughs harder, smile fond, glassy gaze, a sight you take in, hoping you never forget it after waking up. He tugs you back into a bear hug, grip trembling as you mirror the hug.
“See you later, punk.” He whispers, voice wavering. “Live a good life for me, alright?”
“Wait, Eddie, don’t— I’m not ready to say goodbye yet!” The world around you dissipates into the mist floating in, taking Eddie with it.
You jolt up with a gasp, eyes darting around the room for some sort of sign or proof that Eddie never left, that it was all just a bad dream.
But was it really a bad dream? All things considered, even if it’s just a coping mechanism, it gives some closure.
Closure. For your dead best friend.
Sobbing, you place your hands over your face, already anticipating the pounding headache this will give you. Something pokes into your cheek, interrupting your tears.
Unfurling your hand, Eddie’s guitar pick necklace lays in your palm, just as it did in your dream.
“No fucking way…”
Holding it up against the moonlight, sneaking between the blinds, it’s the well-loved pick, scratches, worn edges and all. The way it gleams against the moon’s glow, seeing it clearly, feeling it in your hands, it’s real. And you have no idea how it could’ve wound up here, in your hand, but here it is.
This necklace won’t ease your grief, nor will recollecting the dream with Eddie, but you have the closure you needed to begin properly grieving.
Flicking on the lamp on your nightstand, you reach in the drawer for your journal, scribbling down as much of the dream as you can recall, before it fades away as consciousness settles in.
Steve was right; as shitty as this entire situation is, Eddie is okay.
He may not be here, but he’s okay. And in time, you will be, too.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x platonic!reader#steve harrington x platonic!reader#I’ll see you in my dreams#my fics
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Headcanon: Wayne, Claudia, Joyce & Hopper meeting Steve's parents who are neglectful & pretty cruel to their son & realize that Steve is sooo good without having parents to help raise him (maybe he gets adopted by one of them)
Okay picture this:
Steve is 14, his parents haven’t been home in a month.
Hopper finds it weird that he’s constantly catching rides with friends or walking places when his parents are loaded and could easily have someone drive him.
He drives by his house late one night and sees one light on upstairs, assumes it’s Steve’s bedroom, and decides to stop and check in when he sees an empty driveway.
Steve comes to the door, clearly home alone, and Hop asks how long he’s been alone.
Steve’s scared to tell him the truth but he’s at the age where he’s just scared enough of cops to not wanna lie to him.
Hop is pissed. Tells him to pack a bag for a few days because he’s staying with someone he trusts. An adult.
That adult is Claudia Henderson, who doesn’t even need to know everything to know that Steve needs love.
That’s how he actually meets Dustin, ends up sharing a room with him for a couple nights until his parents get back in town.
Hopper unleashes pure fury on them, says if they didn’t want the responsibility of a kid, they shouldn’t have had one. They argue back that he’s old enough to take care of himself now and he doesn’t have any right to “kidnap” him and bring him to a person’s home they don’t know.
Claudia is there for all of it, so is Steve.
Hopper tells them they’re lucky he didn’t get CPS involved and that he still might if they don’t figure out how to be parents.
Steve is cowering in the chair in the corner, watching his parents fight for their reputation, but not for him.
He finally speaks up, finally gains the courage he needs to say that he liked staying with Claudia and Dustin, that he knows his parents don’t want him.
After hours of going back and forth, his parents agree to send money to Claudia for groceries and care of him and he gets to have a family.
When Joyce finds out, she starts having Steve over for dinners a couple times a week too, and he becomes good friends with Jonathan instead of Tommy.
He becomes another older brother to Will, and they actually come out to each other at the same time.
Will is how he meets Eddie. Will looks up to Eddie as a DM and Steve doesn’t understand most of the game, but he knows that seeing Eddie’s passion turn Will’s passion into more.
Eddie and Steve start hanging out, usually alone, usually when Wayne is at work. It’s slow, the way they fall in love.
They’re two teenagers who never really saw romantic love, not the healthy kind, so they don’t even realize they’re in it until Wayne asks how long they’ve been dating one night when they’re all having dinner.
Wayne didn’t know much of Steve’s story, not until he shared it one evening shortly after graduation.
He hugged Steve to him tight.
“You’ve got a family, a family who loves ya, but I’m here too. You’re my boy, too.”
Steve grew up feeling like a burden, feeling unwanted and unloved. But ironically, when he lost the only family he had, he gained more than he could have ever expected.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#headcanon#wayne munson#jim hopper#claudia henderson#joyce byers#found family
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Wiggly Wednesday 🧠🪱
I've been a disaster for the last month and a half and kept forgetting to post my wiggly Wednesday thoughts, but I am FINALLY getting around to it today!
Thank so much for the tag this week @tinytalkingtina and all the lovely folks who have tagged me before!!🖤💛Consider this a tag back to share those wonderful brainworms (if you'd like to):
@ataliagold @penny00dreadful @soaringornithopter @steddie-island
Because of a comment @theohohmoment made on a gif set of Eddie Kaspbrak saying it gave huge Steve de-aged by Upside Down nonsense vibes (which, I completely see the vision), the idea of Steve having to deal with being de-aged has had me in a chokehold for a couple of days now.
My brain defaulted to Steve finding Dustin first--and though he's curious at heart and more than accustomed to the weirdness of the world at this point, it still takes some effort for Steve to convince him that it's actually him. Secret handshakes and hair care secrets have to be divulged before Dustin is gasping, "Steve?!" in disbelief while Steve rolls his eyes, one hand on his hip as he deadpans, "Yeah, dude, it's really me."
"But you're...you're..."
"A pipsqueak? Kinda already had that part figured out, Henderson, thanks for that."
Dustin hums, thoughtfully, before his face breaks into a wide grin. "Technically speaking, does this make you my little brother now?"
"Not mentally!"
Dustin rallies the troops (the party) and then takes Steve to Robin and Eddie for help--maybe they were already on the lookout for him, if he hadn't shown up to pick Robin up or meet Eddie for their customary afternoon hangout session of smoking a joint and relaxing. After the initial confusion of assuming Steve must be a friend the kids have taken into their fold, it actually doesn't take nearly as much convincing as it did with Dustin to get the two to recognize him, since, well...
Robin and Eddie--they're Steve's peers, give-or-take a grade on either side. They remember Steve at this age, but with the lens of having been kids themselves. And, sure, the high school hierarchy hadn't yet been established, but Steve was still a sporty kid, a rich kid, still popular by 13 year old standards. So they know who they're staring at, once Dustin gives the whole spiel rapid fire. Realizing that Steve is now all awkward, gangly limbs and chipmunk cheeks, thought--that's a real shock, and a delightful one at that.
"Guess I can't call you big boy, anymore," Eddie comments wryly, earning him Steve's most fearsome scowl.
Even after the initial surprise of things passes, the pair of them can't stop cooing at him, pinching his face and ruffling his hair, prompting Steve to pout and grumble and tell them to fuck off about a thousand times over.
It's not much better with the kids. They aren't teasing and fussing over Steve the same way, sure, since age-wise he's landed himself right smack dab in the middle between them and Erica. But they barely listened to him before, the little hellions, and though Steve still defaults to playing babysitter, pretty much any and all authority he had has been totally lost.
By the third or fourth time they've pulled the we're older card to overrule him, Steve's had enough.
"You don't pull this shit with Erica! And she's way younger than you!"
Dustin scoffs. "Uh, yeah, that's cuz Erica could kick all our asses."
Mike and even Lucas simply nod sagely in agreement while Erica looks triumphant in the background. Even Steve can't argue that particular point, although he does huff back, "Oh, what, so you're saying I can't?"
Dustin ruffles his hair--God, but Steve really does not appreciate being on the other side of that one--and simply says, "Steve, little buddy...even before there's no way you could have."
It takes Eddie himself to break up the (mostly playful) wrestling match that ensues immediately afterwards.
It's not all bad, though. Even though at 19 Steve lets himself be a bit of a goofball, he's still used to being the "one in charge" when the party is around, at times the literal grown up in an emergency and worrying over making sure everyone is okay. That instinct is still there, of course, but...lessened when the entire situation opens up possibilities of just being a kid, even for a little while. Eddie and Robin both are only all too happy to encourage and indulge that, knowing that the general absence of Steve's parents forced him to grow up a bit too fast, and the last several years of monster hunting haven't exactly helped with things.
It's Eddie often egging Steve on to take the final step--try to win enough tickets at the arcade to claim the largest stuffed animal hanging on the wall, betting Steve he can't swing himself over the top of the swingset at the park--with a teasing, "Come on, Harrington, you know you want to."
And the thing is, Steve does, and for the first time in a long while he feels free enough that he can.
"You know, it's probably a good thing this happened now, and not, like...senior year," Steve muses, peering at Eddie where he's settled in the other swing, their shoes dragging gently through the smooth pebbles under their feet.
Eddie frowns, trying to follow his logic. "Gonna need you to walk me through that one, Harrington."
"Well, these days, I've got you and Rob."
"What, to help you figure things out?" Eddie isn't sure how much of a boon he really is for that part--Robin, sure, braniac that she was. The odds probably would have been in Steve's favor even before, though, given what mini-geniuses Dustin and the rest of the party turned out to be, especially when it came to Upside Down shenanigans.
"So I'd have a reason to even want to figure things out," Steve murmurs quietly.
Eddie's head whips to stare at him, blinking owlishly, expression a mixture of confusion and alarm.
"Stevie, I don't--what do you--?"
He shrugs one shoulder, smile sheepish, the self-deprecating shine of his eyes jarring in a face still soft with baby fat.
"I mean..." Steve starts to count off on his fingers, "I'd just barely managed to survive my second round with all this bullshit. Nancy and I broke up. School was shit. Tommy and Carol--not like I could talk to them, or would even want to, after everything that happened. And Hargrove totally had it out for my ass. The only thing I really had going for me at the time was, you know. Looking after those little hellions."
"Sure, not being able to drive, that shit sucks, but...I'm just saying, back then, staying thirteen would have looked a lot more tempting. Plus, it'd be kinda nice to just--I don't know. Get a chance at a do-over." Pressing his face the chain of the swingset, his big, hazel eyes peeking out around it, Steve adds in an undertone, "Maybe not be such a jackass the second time around."
Eddie feels a pang in his chest. He can't resist the urge to walk his swing over so he can lay a hand on Steve's shoulder and squeeze--less forceful, more careful than he usually is. "We've all got shit we'd change, if we got another shot. Christ, I sure as hell would--you're talking to a third year senior here, after all. But, I think you're being way too fucking hard on yourself, man. You did just fine the first go-around, no retcon necessary."
Steve smiles, a soft, hesitant thing. "...Thanks, Eds."
"Anytime, Stevie."
And then, of course, from there Robin and the kids use their big brain power to break whatever curse Steve's been placed under, and Eddie helps him learn to still embrace all his silly, childish indulgences even now that he's back to being one of the 'big kids.'
#pre steddie#steddie#de-aged steve#my writing#wiggly wednesday#tag game#tag games#this kind of ran away from me#but then what else is new lol
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broken
cw: canon compliant, brief mention of suicidal ideation, discussions of death and grief, and steve's weird relationship with both
something in steve might be broken.
in the years since this whole thing started, he's watched people die. he watched a boy his age be impaled by a monster, heard eddie munson's death rattle with his own two ears. he can easily picture will byers' body being dragged out of the quarry, and he wasn't even there for it. it's easy to imagine barb's final moments too, being dragged into the upside down through the pool in his backyard.
but when he thinks of these things, there's no feeling behind them.
for months, nancy grieved barb, and just when steve thought she was starting to get better, get over that grief, halloween happened and she was back to square one.
max, for months, grieved billy. she grieved to the point of self sacrifice, to the point of writing everybody a letter in the event of her own death.
and now, dustin. he's a shell of the kid he used to be.
and something in steve must be broken. because he doesn't get it.
it's not that he's never lost anybody before. steve's earliest memory is his grandfather's funeral. he was maybe four or five. his mother had an arm around him as they sat side by side in the church pew, and something wet landed on his head. when he looked up, his mother was crying.
and steve couldn't figure out why.
when steve was thirteen, his favorite aunt died. he went to the funeral that time too. everyone was crying. everyone but steve. they'd all asked him 'are you okay?' and steve didn't know what to say. he was fine.
people die. it's a fact of life. people are born, they live, and then they die. it happens to everybody. sure, sometimes it's tragic, but it happens to everybody eventually.
what's the point of carrying something as debilitating as grief when death is inevitable?
maybe it makes him a selfish, uncaring asshole. maybe he's exactly what everybody's always said he is.
steve's always figured that when it's someone really important to him, he'll finally get it. but the goalpost of important enough keeps on getting pushed back. because eddie's dead, and max isn't out of the woods yet, and steve himself is still being monitored for the bat bites because, like owens said, no one knows the long term effects of the demobat venom.
steve could die, this time around.
and still. nothin'.
well, not nothing.
there's just discomfort where grief should be. all around him, people are crying. because they couldn't save eddie, they might not be able to save max, something may still happen to steve himself.
he's swimming in this sea of mourning, and steve is so uncomfortable. he doesn't know how to comfort anyone. he doesn't have the words for dustin, who's already lost one older brother figure just to find out he could lose another. he doesn't have the right words for robin, who fell into this whole thing at steve's side, who's had to watch him throw himself into deadly situations over and over again.
she's in a kind of pre-grieving state, because she knows that even if steve does make it through this and the upside down comes calling again, he's going to continue to throw himself in harm's way. and steve has no idea how to comfort her.
it's not that he's suicidal or anything. it's just... death comes for everybody eventually. and he knows that not dying matters more to the others than it does to him.
he's all kinds of doped up on good pain meds, and maybe that's what's numbing this whole situation, but... steve doesn't think so.
he thinks something in him must be broken.
#steve harrington#bee's blurbs#death cw#angst cw#? maybe ?#i'm probably projecting here but i've been thinking a lot about steve's discomfort surrounding death and grief#and i think his discomfort matches mine#anyway i have a lot of thoughts about how steve doesn't experience grief the way he's 'supposed to'!#autistic steve harrington#just for some flavor#character study
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Whumptober day 20
rated: t | wc: 844 | prompt: Blanket | Found Family | “You will regret touching them.” | tw: child abuse & neglect Steve doesn't have a good family. But eventually he finds one.
Steve had never really felt at home with his family. Right from when he was a child it had felt more like he was an ornament for his parents to bring out and show off whenever they wanted to impress their friends and associates. It never felt like they cared for him as their child, just what he could do for their image. When he was still young, they could talk him up all the time. He was handsome, obedient, athletic. His father would always talk about raising him in the mold to become the perfect candidate to rise through the ranks of the company and even take over one day. His mother would dress him up in tailored suits far too expensive for a child so young and drag him to her ladies lunches, where everyone would coo over how sweet and polite he was. She would jump between talking about how he would grow up to be a lady killer, a total heartbreaker, and insisting that she would raise him to be a better man, a better partner than his father was.
But of course, neither of them actually raised him. They were too busy caught up in themselves and their own lives and affairs to raise him. Instead choosing to leave Steve with his grandparents or a nanny when they weren't home and couldn't see a use for him to be around. Steve tried to convince himself that it wasn't about him, but the way he was still left in the care of a babysitter or a nanny when they were around spoke volumes.
And then there was the way he was ignored any time he tried to get the attention any kid needed from their parents. Anything he did or achieved was overlooked. Or he was told that he could have, should have done better. The most attention he got was if he did something wrong. Getting in trouble was the only way his parents seemed to make time for him, so he started to use that. Deliberately messing up in school, or committing petty crimes to get caught by the police. Anything to get his parents to pay attention to him, for them to realize he needed them around.
But it backfired. Anytime his parents got a call about his grades or behavior, their reaction was explosive. Yelling and belittling him over the phone, even over a minor infraction. If they were home, or in the area, it would be physical discipline. Spanking, first by hand then by belt. If Steve tried to fight back, the belt would be used freely across his body, even one time catching him just below the eye. They would limit the amount of food he had available, or the amount of money they left for food. Even locking him in a closet for almost a full day.
It left him in fear of his parents, but he couldn't tell what was worse. Being ignored, never hearing from them or seeing them, or having them around when all they would do was hurt him. He could see no way out of it, but he just wanted to experience the unconditional love other kids seemed to get from their parents. Something he'd never experienced.
The first time he truly experienced familial love was after the second round against the Upside Down. The bond he couldn't explain with Dustin. The little brother he never thought he would have. And with Dustin came the sometimes a little overbearing motherly love from Claudia Henderson. Both welcoming into their home, into their lives, into their hearts. Giving him the love that he'd never received from his parents.
And his found family quickly grew. Gaining a younger sister figure in Max, her trusting him to be a safe older brother figure away from Billy. Lucas asking him for advice, and also asking for help to practice for basketball, wanting to try out for the team when he started high school. The battle at Starcourt brought more in. Erica always coming to him whenever she needed something, or if she wanted to demand ice cream. Robin becoming the other half he'd never knew was missing. Becoming the close confidant, something that felt more than any other relationship. It was more than just best friends or familial, but without it being romantic. It was the closest possible bond any two people could have, and Steve knew he'd never experienced anything like it before, and never would again.
After everything with the Upside Down was over, Steve's found family was bigger than he'd ever imagined. Dustin, Max, Lucas, Erica, Mike, Will, El. Robin and Eddie and Nancy and Jonathan and Argyle. Claudia Henderson, Mr and Mrs Sinclair, Joyce and Hopper. At times he didn't know what to do with himself having such a large family that loved him, when for the first eighteen years of his life he had none. And despite the fact that it took multiple almost apocalypses to get the family he deserved, he wouldn't change it for the world.
#whumptober2023#no.20#found family#stranger things fic#steve harrington#steve harrington whump#robin buckley#platonic stobin#stobin#dustin henderson#atimeofyourwrites
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Max's Letter to Steve and Nancy
Dear Steve,
If you tell anyone what I said in this letter, I'll haunt you, and I'll haunt a good lawyer into suing you. . . You've always been like the brother I wish I had, the kind of brother that I wish Billy had been. Me and you, we're kind of the same. . .two cats who pretend like they don't like the affection they're given. It's because we're not used to it. But you deserve to be loved, Steve.
I know Nancy hurt you, Steve. Dustin kind of spilled the beans on that one. He means well, just like Nancy never meant to hurt you. I know what it's like, though, to blame yourself for someone's death. In a way, it's a form of self-preservation. She ran away to protect herself and you as well. So, she ran away to something that she knew wasn't permanent. The scariest thing in this world is something that lasts forever. Maybe like me, she got scared of that too. When I thought about my future, all I could see was Lucas at the end of the tunnel, and that scared the shit out of me. After Billy, I felt like a black hole, and I was afraid of sucking him in. We're different, I know, but there's something about us that's the same too. You and Lucas are different, but you have the same loving heart. . .patient and kind. Maybe I'm just being hopeful on my end. Maybe I'm misreading it. Or maybe without even knowing it, you've been waiting for Nancy to see you like Lucas has been waiting for me. The question is, who do you see at the end of the tunnel? Who do you see in your vision of the future? Life is short, especially in our line of work. Don't wait too long to figure it out.
Love,
Max.
Dear Nancy,
I know we haven't spent much time together, but if I survive this, maybe we can rectify that. Mike's lucky to have such a badass older sister. I wish I was that lucky. I don't know if I have any right to say this, but since I'm probably going to die, maybe it doesn't really matter. I honestly don't know what really happened, only what I heard from Lucas and from what Mike read in your diary. You didn't hear that from me. I did slap him for that one, so you're welcome, I guess. I don't know if anyone's ever told you, but. . .what happened to Barb wasn't your fault.
We're all responsible for the choices we make. Dr. Brenner chose to play God, and his actions caused the death of everyone involved. Barb's death, Billy's death, that's on him. Doing what you did, it was your choice, and it wasn't wrong to make a choice that makes you happy. It didn't cause Barb's death. I still feel guilty about Billy dying because when he was hurting me to the point where I would cry at night and wishing so badly that he would be a brother like Steve turned out to be, I also wished for it to stop. For anything to happen, and I suppose that's why I feel guilty because a part of me did want him to die. I felt like I made it happen in some way, and I felt like I was just vile as he was. And then I realized it wasn't my choice for him to be that way and that the only time I ever wanted to hurt him was to stop him from hurting others. . .from killing Steve. He would have. Billy chose not to be the big brother I needed, and I wish that it hadn't taken his death for him to realize it. I wish he could make it up to me now. I think a part of me will always feel guilty, but I'm also scared that it's what's going to stop me from living my life. I didn't kill Billy. You didn't kill Barb. Dr. Brenner is responsible. You're nothing like Billy or Brenner. You strive so hard to help people, actually help them. You care. It's just that trauma can shut you down, closes you off, and all you want to do is to run away.
The best thing about Steve is that a part of him knows that you didn't mean any of what you said to him. Whether he realizes it or not, I think a part of him is still waiting for you to heal and to see that he's always been there. When he looks at you, he looks at you the way that Lucas looks at me, and I know how scary it is. When I look at my future, I see Lucas, whose unwavering loyalty shines bright in this stupid darkness. Steve is loyal to you, too. Whether he realizes it, his love for you is what guided him down the path to making his own choices, and it led him to caring about us. It woke up the part of himself that he turned off when he realized his parents were never going to give a shit. It wasn't gone, just locked away. You were the key. . .okay, holy shit, this is some sappy shit. Maybe you should just ignore the ramblings of dying girl. Think about your future and who you picture at the end. What do you see? Life is short, especially in this town. Whenever I look at you and Steve, I see a story that's not finished yet, and maybe I'm projecting my own relationship with Lucas onto you two. Just give it some thought, and you can totally burn this letter. You and Steve are the most badass older siblings who I can see myself being closest to. I just want everyone to be happy. Anyway. . . I don't want to be a ghost anymore.
Love,
Max
#stranger things#max mayfield#stranger things s4#nancy wheeler#steve harrington#lucas sinclair#nancy wheeler x steve harrington#stancy#max mayfield x lucas sinclair#lumax#stranger things fanfiction#rueleigh writes
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Who I think the stranger things characters godly parents would be if they went to camp half blood:
El: I feel like El would be a child of Hypnos because of the dreaming aspect of their power. She would probably join the hunters when she ages out of camp.
Will: Will would be a satyr just because of how he can sense things from the upside down the way satyrs can sense monsters. He would be the one who brings them all to camp in the first place.
Mike: Mike would be a child of Hermes because I can’t figure out where to place him, he could honestly fit in any cabin. If y'all have any ideas for him I’d love to hear them.
Dustin: Dustin would be a child of Poseidon because he’s just that much of a main character. JK he’d be a child of Hephaestus.
Lucus: He’s a child of Apollo because he’s just that much of a golden retriever. Will and Nico would make a point to go to all of his games and just be the best brother and brother-in-law ever.
Max: She’s a child of Hermes because she gotta go fast. She and Mike have such a sibling rivalry, she pushes him to confess to Will at literally every turn.
Nancy: Her and Mike would have the same mortal parent but different godly parents. She’d be a child of Athena. She wouldn’t be too close with her siblings(except Mike, of course) but she’d still be really protective of them. When Annabeth and Parcy get engaged she suddenly goes full background check mode, her and robin put together a powerpoint of reasons Percy is sketchy ™.
Steve: He’s a child of Aphrodite because I said so!
Robin: She would be a daughter of Aphrodite who joins the hunters during a rebellious phase but leaves as soon as she sees a pretty girl(when Nancy comes to camp). Her and Steve have come to camp at the same time and both get claimed almost immediately, so they’ve been close since they were kids.
Eddie: He’s a child of Ares but gets claimed really late and spends a while in the Hermes cabin becoming an older brother figure to Mike. Him and Steve become head of their cabins but it doesn’t last long, they end up leaving camp so Eddie can start a music career and Steve and Robin can just fuck around. Steve and Eddie get married because they are in love and it’s totally 100% cannon, guys.
Erika: Just like Mike and Nancy, her and Lucas have the same mortal parent but different godly parents. Erika is a daughter of Ares. She gets claimed before Eddie and becomes kinda close with Clarisse.
Argile: Argile is a child of Demeter, legacy of Dionysus and uses his powers exclusively for growing weed.
Jonathan: He’s a child of Athena, he finds out right after him and Nancy break up and he just kinda: oh… oh no.
#stranger things#percy jackson#heroes of olympus#steddie#ronance#jargyle#byler#elumax#stranger things hc#stranger things headcanon
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I’m back with another AU! (Yes I’m still working on the angel fic, yes I’m considering that Beauty and the Beast AU I had ideas for)
But!
I’ve been thinking about this all morning at work (because who needs to think about work) but like
We’ve seen possession on the show already, but what if it’s different this time? End of season four, Steve doesn’t bother to get himself checked out because there’s a lot more people who need more help than him, he’ll take care of himself. It happens slowly though, he thinks maybe it’s just an infection, but it’s not. And no one figures it out until everything’s coming to a head, until they’re looking at the face of someone they love but not seeing him in it with black tendrils wrapping up over his skin. It’s Steve’s face, but it’s not Steve. And they’re all trying to break through but vecna, using Steve’s voice, just starts saying these awful things.
He tells them Steve’s fears, how he worries about them all abandoning him, how they will because they’re smarter, better, and he’s nothing. He tells them about how Steve’s desperate to protect them, to put himself in the line of fire, because he thinks that’s all he’s good for. Like it’s real insecurities and fear, but it’s amplified and twisted because Steve always knows at the end of the day that he’s loved, that it’s his brain trying to jump to worst case scenarios.
But he’s never told any of them his fears because he knows it’s not going to happen, but it still hurts that they think he’s hiding from them.
They try to have Nancy save him, because true love and all that, because she and Steve have been getting close again. Except she still doesn’t love him like that, and he doesn’t love her like that either, it’s just the conclusion everyone else jumps to even if this time they’re just being friends, because they never got to be friends the first time around.
But it doesn’t work, obviously, so Eddie tries (yes he’s alive and didn’t get eaten by bats because otherwise he’d be possessed too with this shebang and that’s a whole ‘nother story) and Eddie’s been in love with Steve forever, but they’ve been getting close too and they almost kissed the one time so he goes for it but it doesn’t work either, Steve still shoves him away and swings his bat, narrowly missing him.
So Robin tries, because he’s her dingus, her platonic soulmate, the non-romantic love of her life, and there’s finally a crack, a spark of him there, just for a moment. For that second, his hand grabs her shirt, and she thinks she’s got him, but he pushes her away just as Vecna takes back over. But there’s a crack in the shield, and that’s all they need.
El is working on getting through to Steve, on pulling him back out into himself because he’s in there, he’s just stuck. But she needs help to get through all the darkness in his head, because it’s worse this time than when it had been Billy.
So Dustin is up, because for as much flack as he gives him, Steve is his brother and he loves him. And he tells him, sobbing because he can’t lose Steve, not Steve, and he’s been through so much for years now that it all just builds and builds and they see Steve start to waver again, so they don’t give vecna a chance to take hold again.
They all start chipping in, telling him how much he means to them, how they love knowing he’s always going to be on their side and protect them, how important it is for them to know they all have an older brother in him because even if it’s not said, they love him and they know he loves them.
And as much as I love the idea of Robin or Dustin dealing the final blow to get El in enough to rip vecna out, or to give Steve enough strength to push him out, there’s one other person who loves Steve who’s so important and necessary to the party.
Erica.
She’s crying, which shows how desperate the situation has become, and she’s the least affectionate of all his kids (which is saying something because he’s hot Mike to deal with) but she steps right up to him as he’s shaking and fighting with this other person in his head and she grabs his hand like maybe she should have that first year, when she was younger and braver because she didn’t know what was out there but always knew she was safe with him. She tells him in no uncertain terms that he’s not allowed to lose this fight, because he’s never lost a fight in front of her so he can’t start now, because she’s got two brothers and they’re both losers but they’re her losers and he can’t take that from her, that he still owes her ice cream and he needs to hold up his end of the deal.
And it’s all enough, it’s her, brash and cutting and full of affection if you know how to spot it.
All the love, a little romantic on Eddie’s part but mostly just familial and platonic and pure, it sinks in and in the battlefield of his mind a little girl who’s far too young and old at the same time takes his hand and promises he’s not alone.
They didn’t bond much, didn’t have the time for it, but she loves him too because he’s kept her friends safe when she couldn’t.
And they win, because it’s my story and I like happy endings, and Eddie does get to kiss Steve, but only once Robin’s already collapsed into his arms and made him promise never to leave her again, once Dustin’s sobbed into Steve’s chest because he’s just a kid and he’s never had the change to grieve the lost childhood he’s still in.
Nancy doesn’t have to grieve losing another friend though, and it feels like redemption in a way.
Erica doesn’t hug him, but she doesn’t let go of his hand either. She’s not touchy feely, even if she did just use the power of love to save him, but it’s enough to know there’s unconditional love there, on both ends.
It’s ironic, he’ll tell them later, but his song, if he ever got Vecna’d? It’s Huey Lewis, The Power of Love.
KAT YOU JUST MADE ME CRY AT 3PM ON A THURSDAY OH MY GOD . THE POWER OF LOVE. PLATONIC AND ROMANTIC.
She tells him in no uncertain terms that he’s not allowed to lose this fight, because he’s never lost a fight in front of her so he can’t start now, because she’s got two brothers and they’re both losers but they’re her losers and he can’t take that from her, that he still owes her ice cream and he needs to hold up his end of the deal.
E R I C A. this part in particular just cut me to the bone because oh my God. my dear sweet beloved little Erica who absolutely has grown up too quick, seen things she shouldn't have, heard things she shouldn't have. Steve can't die in front of her. not after escaping the Russians and beating the Mindflayer back, not after so much ice cream eaten and still to be eaten. scoops troop doesn't lose, and she's not about to start now. 😭
I'm sure I have more coherent thoughts but I'm just running in circles around this like a rabid animal, this is GOOD SHIT, my friend
#asks#kat you deserve your own tag so this is it#steve#steve and his nuggets#erica#scoops troop#platonic stancy#steddie#also the angel au is gonna rearrange some brain synapses of mine i can already feel it#stobin
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