#Steve Harrington x henderson!reader comfort

[bettyfrommars]

When the Night Comes

Steve Harrington x Reader

I received an ask from @madaboutjoe for option #2 from our Stranger Prompts which is: You mistake him for the man who is supposed to be your blind date, and he goes along with it, with Steve. I put my own spin on it and made it extra weird.

18+ONLY for horror, mention of gore and adult themes, fear of the unknown, hurt/comfort I suppose, she/her pronouns used for reader. WC: 11.8k

Summary: After being single for a while, a personal ad in the classifieds catches your eye, and the guy who posted it invites you to meet for coffee. There's a tree blocking the road, causing you to detour, and once you get to Hawkins you find it's not at all what you expected. Mention of Robin, and appearances from Hopper, Joyce, and Eddie Munson.

Author's Note: This was inspired by the horror show From (which I highly recommend), but you do not have to be familiar with it to understand/enjoy this. In fact, it might be even better if you don't know anything about it. Also, the Benny's described in this fic is a cross between the original burger joint and the diner in the show.

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It was mostly by accident that Steve and Robin took over Benny’s. One day, they were hunkering down there to hide, scared as hell, trying not to make a sound, and the next thing they knew, they were painting the walls and adding items to the menu.  

When caught in a hellscape, it was important to have a place to go to bask in the illusion of safety, even if just for a meal.  

Things generally slowed down in the afternoon on Wednesdays, as it was post lunch rush and right before the seniors dropped in for that early bird special.  Robin was with Vickie tending to the farm animals across town, and the only customers at the time were Claudia Henderson chatting with a friend over coffee and pie.  Steve would bus the table once he made a list of supplies he’d need to go searching for the next day.  .  

At a booth nearest the front door, in his trusty red and black flannel that was missing two buttons and a pair of jeans, Steve wore a white apron around his waist. He took the blue bandana off his head to let his glossy mane flop free, running a hand through it a few times, sweeping it to one side.

2

“Is this it?” You mumbled from behind the steering wheel of your car, peering ahead through the windshield at the first signs of a town after a long stretch of forest.  The pavement was cracked and worn, giving you a passing thought about where their tax dollars were going if not to those improvements.  The Welcome to Hawkins sign was just as weathered and also pockmarked with bullet holes.  

A certain gloom settled around the town, like those places that exist in the lower valley between two mountains, nestled in a sea of fog.  The afternoon had been fairly bright and sunny until you approached the Hawkins border and had to take your sunglasses off in order to see.  

He said you’d be able to see it from the road, that burger place Steve said he’d meet you at.  You took a right down the first street and craned your neck to read a sign scrawled in black marker on a sandwich board out in front of the post office:

62 Days Without Incident

You didn’t have long to ponder it before you were pulling into the parking spot at the far end of Benny’s.  One of the windows had a menacing spider web crack in it that appeared to be mended with duct tape, and if not for the station wagon in the lot and the dim lighting inside, you’d think the building was abandoned.

Hawkins felt like someone's memory of a town, and the memory was fading.

“It’s just coffee,” you whispered, pacing on the other side of the building near your car.  “It’s just coffee with a complete stranger.”

A complete stranger you contacted through a personal ad in the paper, to be exact.  

You considered having a smoke first, but didn’t want the nicotine smell to cling to you.  Maybe he was also an occasional smoker, you’d have to wait and see.  You stepped into view of the front window, and then jerked yourself back to lean against the slate gray wall, cringing as if you’d just stubbed your toe.

You hadn’t been on a date in over a year, but there was something about the ad in the classifieds that made him sound so…normal.  Unlike the others. 

SWM 5’10, brown hair, hazel eyes, 30yr old business owner, hopeful romantic seeks SF for friendship and adventure with the potential for something more.  I like to cook and want to make you laugh. UB kind, curious, homebody looking for LTR.     

You’d left a message for him in the extension given by the paper, and then he’d messaged you back almost immediately, inviting you to an afternoon coffee date at a diner in Hawkins.  

You were 98% certain that he did not have the voice of a serial killer, whatever that meant.  

Fairly new to Indiana, you’d never ventured to Hawkins before, and there happened to be a downed tree blocking the exit you would usually take to the highway, forcing you to use the backroads instead.

A glance at your watch let you know you were fifteen minutes early, all things considered.   

The interior of the diner was cozy dark wood with cream tile at your feet.  Burnt orange nestled here and there as accents, including on the vinyl covers for the booth seats. A cigarette smoldered in a brown glass ashtray nearby, and to your right, two women spoke softly across the table to each other, but paused mid-conversation to nod suspiciously in your direction.

Maybe you’d have a chance to find a seat and order something to drink before he—-

3

Steve had to do a double take when he looked up at the sound of the bell ding.  There was a stain on his white Hanes tee the shape of Australia and faint purple moons carved under overly caffeinated, bloodshot eyes. 

 At first, he assumed you were just another patron, but then you met his casual stare with enthusiasm, and offered a nervous yet generous smile, beelining in his direction as if the two of you were familiar.  

You were new, and such a thing was a rare and unsettling thing to see in Hawkins.  

He’d asked Robin to put fliers up at the post office and the library announcing that they were looking for waitstaff help, but that was only a few hours ago.  Surely, someone wasn’t inquiring already.

It was hard for you not to run in the other direction when you saw how handsome he was.  What the hell was a guy that good looking doing paying to post a personal ad?  Better question—-what was a person like you doing answering one?  

He’d been frowning down at the notepad in front of him before he glanced up, warm maple hair long enough to tuck behind his ears. Brown diner mug near his elbow, confusion tightened around his eyes when you jutted an arm out to shake his hand.

You introduced yourself.  “And I thought I was the early one,” your cheeks felt hot, clutching your bag to your side.  

“Uh, hi,” was all he could manage at the time, returning the generous hand squeeze.  It took him a few seconds, but then he realized what the only possible explanation could be.  “You must be here because of the ad?”

You slid into the booth seat across from him.  Maybe he was trying to be funny, like it was some type of dry wit.

“Am I not what you were expecting?” 

“No, no, that’s not—” he stammered, jerking his arm to the side so fast that he hit the coffee mug, causing liquid to splash out onto the table. He clawed some napkins out of the dispenser to wipe up the spill, a stray curl of hair bobbing over his forehead as he did so. “I just mean, I wasn’t expecting you this early, that’s all.”  

You weren’t what he’d been expecting to walk through his door that afternoon in many ways.  

First of all, he was attracted to you, so taking you in as an employee might not be the brightest idea, but also, why had he never seen you around before? Even if he didn’t know everyone in Hawkins personally, they’d all for sure crossed his path at one point.

The town was funny like that.

A hard pit in his stomach told him that you weren’t from town at all, and he really hoped that was not the case, for your sake. 

A few beats of silence hung in the air, and the bell dinged again to herald the exit of Claudia and her friend, chattering as they went.  

“Is the food good here?” You settled back in your seat, eying the display case near the register while shrugging out of your coat.  “The pies look yummy.”

Like a trout thrown to the ground, Steve’s mouth opened and closed a few times, and he pushed the sleeves of his flannel up to his elbows, finding his words.  “They’re pretty good, yeah, I think. The guy who makes them is a bit of a nut and takes his pastries pretty seriously.”

There were creased paper menus that looked hand-typed tucked in between the ketchup and the tiny, tableside jukebox.  You grabbed one and put it in front of you, eyes roaming over the words without really reading a thing.  

“I didn’t expect you to be so handsome,” your tongue was often faster than your brain, and you flicked a nervous glance up at him after realizing what you’d said.  “Sorry.”

Totally inappropriate for a professional conversation, but why did it make Steve feel all tingly? 

“Don’t be sorry,” he muttered.  To avoid eye contact, he picked up the nearby pencil and started drawing squiggles on the yellow notepad in front of him.  

“Do you have any experience waiting tables?” He cut right to the chase, not that any experience would make a difference. He wasn’t going to be able to pay you, anyway, that wasn’t how it worked around there.  

You were not at all thrown off by the question; you figured there’d be a good helping of small talk.

“For a year in high school, yeah,” you were flicking the corner of the menu with your thumb.  “It was a 24 hour waffle house. Met a lot of interesting people.”

“I bet.” He tried to sound casual, but the nervous eruption of a laugh bubbled out.

So, there it was: you were definitely not from there.  

The idea that you would soon go through the stages of shock and denial and depression that was common for everyone who resided in what they’d once known as Hawkins, made his stomach drop.  

He didn’t want to be the one to watch the light drain from your eyes.  

4

You straightened up from staring at the menu to search for whoever might be behind the kitchen hatch.  “Do we walk up there to give our order? Or will someone come to the table?”

“That’s, um, I can—let me,” Steve stuttered before taking a breath. “Uh, do you know what you want?”

“Just iced tea for now I think,” you were concentrating on the offerings, bottom lip sucked in between your teeth.  “I’m not very hungry. Some of those steak fries maybe? Would you eat some with me?”

There were plenty of mysteries about the town that no one had been able to solve yet, including the way vegetable crops and farm animals showed up in various spots out of the blue. People found garbage bags full of packaged, grocery store quality bread in their backyards as if dropped from the sky.  A few months ago while scavenging, Jonathan Byers stumbled upon a concrete door in the ground that led to a bunker stocked with endless dry goods. Steve didn’t ask questions much anymore, he was just grateful they had resources.

He figured whatever trapped them all there wanted to toy with them and fattened them up for the kill.  

There was something very casual and familiar about your disposition that made him even more curious about what universal tide washed you up onto his shore.

To most people, ending up in their corner of the world felt like a punishment, but one that they’d somewhat adapted to over time. One day, hopefully, you would find your peace with it too.  Maybe even share a piece of pie with him and tell him stories about what he’d missed out in the real world.  

For now, you’d have iced tea and fries and pretend none of the horrors were real.

Steve got up from the booth, tucking his chin as he spoke.   “I’m serious, I’ll make you anything you want.  I mean, within reason.”

Your head snapped up.  “Wait, you work here?”

He couldn’t help but frown at your genuine display of confusion.

“I kinda run the place, yeah. It’s not much but,” he shrugged. “My best friend and I, we—”

You blinked a few times.  “I feel so stupid, I didn’t realize—”

“You’re not stupid,” he interrupted, planting his hands square on his hips. “Gimme…ten minutes, okay? Just need to throw them in the fryer.”

Your head snapped a few quick nods in a row, unable to settle the feelings of embarrassment.

“Oh, wait,” he spun around, snapping his fingers once in the air.  “You like lemon in your tea?” 

“Sure.” The more you looked around, the more you sensed something was really…off about the place.  Not just the diner, but the entire town. 

Outside, the grass was either dead or overgrown and there’d been a wrecked car--possibly and old Chrysler LeBaron---sticking out of an empty public pool on the corner when you first drove in.  You remembered the way those two women at the other table glared at you, like maybe you were not at all welcome there at all, no matter what the tattered doormat out front said.  

Steve returned to set your iced tea in front of you.  There were a couple cubes of ice in the glass, a pretty lemon wedge perched on the lip, and a straw sticking out of it with the paper end still on to protect the sanitation of it.  The only odd thing was the pint glass that it came in: it said Shiloh Inn Lounge on it.  

“Sugar?” At first you thought he was calling you by a pet name and it gave you a heart palpitation,  but instead he set a few packets of actual sugar down that were all different brands. “If you like.”

His eyes were kind and weary and you sensed a weight hanging in the air like maybe he wanted to tell you something but didn’t know how.

He hovered there, refusing to sit back down, and you took that as a hint that he just wasn’t feeling a connection.  If that was the case, you didn’t want to waste any more of your time.  

“If you’re not interested, I understand,” you took the paper off of your red and white striped straw.  “That’s what things like this are for, right? To see if you want to get to know someone better.”

He frowned, cocking his head to one side, curling his lip. “Not interested?”

“You know…in me.” You squeezed a bit of the lemon in. A seed shot out and almost got you in the eye.

Steve softened, crossing one arm over his chest to hold onto the other, absently guarding himself.  “Okay, but why wouldn’t I be interested in you?”

You snorted a laugh.  “You can just say I’m not your type, it’s fine.  You don’t have to be weird about it.”

Outside, an avocado green Ford Pinto pulled up to the curb and parked.  

5

“Why did you come here?” He asked, massaging the elbow area where he clutched his arm.

You considered the weight of that question and all of the answers you could give.  Practically everyone you loved was either dead or no longer a part of your life.  You hated your job with the intensity of a thousand suns, but you’d acquired too much debt to up and quit.  There was no family money or support to act as a safety net; no savings account to pull from.  The last time you were in a committed relationship, you had your heart tramped, and to be honest, your wounds from that were still open and weeping.

All things on the table, you had no business floundering around in the dating world.  You were the walking wounded just looking for a distraction from the emptiness.  

Why did you come here?

“To meet you, obviously,” you scowled into your drink, trying to mask a hot wave of insecurity.  It felt like a hornet was stuck in your throat.  “But I can just go back the way I came, it’s no biggie.”

“See, that’s just it,” he wet his lips a few times.  “You can’t go back the way you came. No one can.”

His heart stuttered at the idea of having to break the news to you right then, or ever, but it would be dark soon, and he’d need to make sure you were safe. Leaving you out without protection, out there for The Others to find you was not an option.  

That made you bark a laugh.  “Oh yeah? What is this? Hotel California?”

The accuracy made him feel like someone just dropped an ice cube down the back of his shirt. “Something like that, yeah.”

The front bell dinged again and in walked a dark haired woman with one of the most likable faces you’d ever seen.  The shins of her jeans were dirty like she’d been working in the garden, and there was a tear in the shoulder seam of the hunter green button-down shirt that she’d left untucked.  It was about 2 sizes too big for her, sleeves rolled up so that her hands wouldn’t drown in the material.  

She looked right at you and a vacant smile quivered at the corners of her mouth, as if she was forcing it in place with all her mite. It felt like she had absolutely nothing to be smiling about, but wanted to put you at ease. 

“Hi I’m Joyce,” she held one open palm up in greeting, approaching with the caution of someone trying not to scare off a feral cat.  

“Word travels fast,” Steve muttered under his breath, introducing you.

“Hopper saw the car on his way by,” she progressed to wringing her hands in front of her.  “And I came over to see if it was true.  To see if…see if you needed any help…

…it will be dark in an hour or so.”

They were having a private conversation with their eyes right in front of you and a heady mix of disorientating fear prickled the back of your neck.  

“I think I missed something,” you fisted a handful of the material on your jacket, ready to head for the door.  “I think this was a bad idea.”

But the two of them were blocking your path at that point, and you sensed they had no intention of moving.

“Hey, listen,” Joyce made a steeple out of her hands as if she were about to pray.  “I know this is absolutely not what you want to hear, and believe me, I know it’s bonkers, but we can’t let you get back on that road tonight.”

Your mouth went dry and you turned to Steve thinking he might offer comfort, but his jaw was set, muscles ticking on one side as he ground his back teeth.  

“You can’t be serious.”  You let out a chuckle that was void of humor.

Joyce vibrated loving mother energy and as much as you wanted to get out of that diner, you also wanted to hear whatever it was she had to say.  Maybe even get a hug from her.

“I know this sucks,” she continued.  “It sucks and there’s a lot we need to explain to you, but pretty soon…the roads won’t be safe.”

Your breath caught in your chest, tightening there.

“There’s a spare bedroom at my place,” her expression made it seem like she was offering you a trip to Disneyland. “Clean sheets, I’ve got some soup on the stove. I can take you there now and we can have some coffee, you can meet my sons, and I’ll tell you everything, but you can’t drive back into the woods.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll pass,” despite the tough exterior, your voice wavered.  “Not to sound ungrateful for the hospitality, but this is crazy.”

You waited for them to burst into laughter and tell you they were kidding.  Ha. Ha. 

“It is fucking crazy, tell me about it,” Steve mumbled. “We just want to make sure you…” he trailed off, staring up as if trying to remember his lines. 

The entire thing was turning out to be some twilight zone shit, and it was no longer amusing. Sure, Steve was hot and you already liked him plenty, but clearly there was lead paint in the water or black mold in the walls because the two people in front of you were off their rockers. 

Your steady gaze landed on your blind date.  “Is that why you put the ad in the paper? So that you could get me here and abduct me?”

“Paper?” Confused, he frowned at Joyce and then at you.  “What paper? What ad?”

Ice and thorns shot through your blood.

“The personal ad, Steve. The one you put in the gazette, the one I answered.  You left a message saying to meet you here.”

When they talk about a “pregnant” pause, well that pause gripped the air like it was having quadruplets. 

“Personal ad?” Joyce peered at Steve, but he only shrugged and shook his head like he had no idea what was going on.  Because he didn’t. 

You raised your voice then, practically shouting.  “And why do you two keep looking at each other like that? What am I missing? You invited me here for coffee and now you’re telling me I can’t leave? This is bullshit, I’m sorry, I’m going.”

You prepared yourself to fight to get beyond them, but they parted easily and gave no resistance when you bolted from the booth, strapping your bag across your body with a grumbled curse.  

“I didn’t put a personal ad in any paper,” Steve said softly, but his words had enough impact to make you freeze in your tracks halfway to the door.  

6

Hawkins, as they knew it, didn’t even have a circulating newspaper anymore.  Nancy and a few others kept The Post going for as long as possible to keep morale afloat with a sense of normalcy, but after a while started to run out of supplies and purpose for such an endeavor, especially since they had no line to the outside world.  She did publish a pamphlet every so often that announced local events, and whenever one of The Others got a hold of a member of the community, she would be the one to break the news to those who weren’t privy to the information.  

…62 Days Without Incident….

“Who did I come here to meet then?” You kept your back to them, asking the question more to yourself.

“Sweetheart, I promise I’ll explain everything to you once we—” Joyce hugged herself as she spoke, watching you storm the rest of the way to the door and then jerk it open to the tune of a violent rattling of the bell.

“Please, wait!” Steve jogged to your side.

“I want you to have this,” he tugged down the front of his shirt to pull out a quarter size, oblong chunk of rock attached to some type of cream colored string.  He lifted it up over his head, fluffing the back of his hair in the process, and held it out to you.

There was some sort of design on the smoke gray stone, a symbol that itched a part of your brain as being familiar.

He had it dangling in front of your face and your stare narrowed beyond the swinging cord to find the colors in his hazel eyes swirling like some uncharted universe.  They made you want to go swimming in the stars.

“If you want to go, I can’t stop you,” he shifted close enough for you to smell the fruity scent of his hair product and coffee on his breath.  “But please wear this.”

You winced at the necklace without touching it.  “What is that?”

You might as well have been asking him to teach you conversational German in the span of ten minutes, even though he only knew a few letters from their alphabet.  

“As long as you have this with you inside wherever you are, They can’t get to you.  I’m telling you, I don’t even know how it works.  But, if you won’t stay here with me or go with Joyce, I need you to put this on and keep all of the windows up on your car.  All of the doors stay locked, got it?”

“Who is They?” You did not receive a verbal answer to your questions, only more clandestine looks.

It hit you like a flying brick just then that they were indeed not being malicious, nor were they trying to drug you to put you in a well and skin you alive.  Steve and Joyce truly believed everything they were telling you: 

Some unspecified Things come out at nightfall and kill people, but wearing a stone around your neck magically keeps them at bay. Got it. 

You didn’t know why they came across as so sheltered and endangered when anyone could hop on the highway and be back in civilization in ten minutes.  There were probably wild animals out there in the woods; coyotes and wolves and maybe even bears, and those were the things that showed up to terrorize the locals at nightfall, not some nocturnal horde of zombies.  

Your survival instinct won out over curiosity, and you mumbled “bye Steve” over your shoulder, dashing out into the parking lot.

Behind you, Joyce took hold of Steve’s arm to keep him from following in your wake.

“She’ll have to learn this one the hard way, unfortunately,” she whispered to him. “Like most of us did.”

They watched you throw yourself in behind the steering wheel, and then heard your door lock after it slammed shut.

“I’ll fix up the cot in the supply room just in case she—-” he didn’t finish, but Joyce knew what he meant. 

You’d be back once you realized there was nowhere else to go, and hopefully your pride wouldn’t keep you out too long after dark. He’d wait up and keep the light on.

Without one of the stones of protection, it wouldn’t matter if you were in a concrete bunker, The Others would still be able to get to you if they wanted to.  

Maybe if you got stranded in your car, you’d be smart enough to hide under a blanket and stay quiet until morning.  

What if you tried to run from them on foot or, worse yet, tried to physically defend yourself? 

As far as Steve knew, those things they called The Others couldn’t be stopped. 

7

You literally squealed out of town, tires leaving fishtail skid marks on the pavement. 

“What the fuck was that?” You mumbled, breathless, eyeballing the two in your rearview mirror as you got back on the highway and were swallowed up by fog.  

The misty forest continued for about a mile, and then it wasn’t long before you were approaching another town.  Had you somehow passed through a similar place without realizing on your way in? Seemed impossible, but you rationalized it as first date nerves getting the best of you.

And what a fucking bonkers “first date” that had been.  One for the books. 

Shame because Steve had one of those faces you’d never get tired of looking at.  

All the same, you were grateful to be out of Hawkins, but you needed gas.  You’d be able to get home with what you had in the tank, but didn’t want to have to take time to fill up on your way to work in the morning.  

On your right, you passed another weathered Welcome to Hawkins sign.

No, that was a mistake.  The natural light was fading rapidly but surely you’d misread it without your headlights on.

You slowed to honor the speed limit through to the center of whatever town it was.  There was an establishment called Melvald’s, a Radio Shack, and further down was a Family Video, but the streets were deserted.  It was barely dusk and not a single soul strolled the sidewalks or drove by in a vehicle.  

A church bell rang in the distance, and you spotted a woman hustling three young children up a flight of stairs. The youngest didn’t seem to be taking the steps fast enough, so she picked him up and carried him the rest of the way to a door that slammed shut as once they were all inside.  

They were acting as if the moonlight was poison and they couldn’t get any on their skin.

Pink and orange blossomed over the horizon while the sun sank behind the mountains, and the church bell persisted with its haunting tune.  A little further and there were cars parked outside of fenced houses, but not a single human or animal to be found. A pair of seats on a swing set swayed back and forth as if occupied by ghosts.

Coming to a halt at a stop sign, there was a very familiar sight:

62 Days Without Incident

The same sandwich board, the same cursive handwriting in black marker in front of the same red brick post office building.

“Nononono..no. This is not right…” you started mumbling to yourself, inching along the pavement.

It wasn't long before you spotted the empty swimming pool with the back end of a wrecked car sticking out of it.  If you turned down that first street, you knew you’d find Benny’s Burgers and Steve probably at the front window, waiting with flex cuffs to tie you up in his basement.

You’d missed a turn, that was all. That was the only explanation.

You went extra slow the next time through the forest, making sure to spot whatever exit or turn you’d missed before.

But then the trees opened up to a town and there was the Welcome to Hawkins sign.  Melvald’s and Radio Shack.  Family Video. 62 Days Without Incident.  Wrecked car in an empty pool.

White knuckle grip on the wheel, frustrated tears welled hot at your lash line.  

“This can’t be right.”

You tried it again, going no more than 10 mph through the woods, and it didn’t help that the smog was billowing thick as cream.

Why hadn’t you passed any other cars on the road?

On your fourth time back around, after a good cry, you reasoned that maybe you’d taken the wrong way out of town somehow, but you’d have to ask someone in the morning and try again due to the staggering lack of visibility you were currently faced with. 

Plus, according to your gas gauge, you’d be coasting on nothing but fumes soon.

Wiping wet cheeks with the back of your hand, you flicked the blinker and coasted in under a metal awning alongside two gas pumps that were connected to a single mechanics garage and a mini mart.

“Please be open,” you said to the glass front door of the service station which, once again, looked like it had been abandoned for the evening, or possibly for the entire year. 

When you turned the engine off you realized that the church bell was no longer thumping to the beat of your headache, and the dead calm silence settled around like a veil, much like the ambiance of a horror film.

The type of horror film your character didn’t make it out of.

You shook your head and thought about slapping yourself in the face.  This was all just some wild mixup.  You’d get gas, get a room at the motel you’d spotted a few blocks back, and find your bearings first thing in the morning.  

Deep breaths in and out of your nose a few times while you sat trying to psych yourself up to get out and find someone to pay for the gas, pending the pumps weren’t dry.

Relief blossomed when you spotted a person approaching from the street.  With each steady step, they took their time to cross the distance, as if calculating if they should .

“Oh thank god, a person,” you said on an exhale.

8

He was balding, but his dishwater blonde hair was combed over to try and hide it, he wore an oddly formal brown suit jacket and slacks. Polka dot orange and chocolate necktie, his hands relaxed at his sides, he reminded you of a used car salesman thinking he spotted an easy mark.  

The smile was wide and plastered to his face, unwavering, as if his teeth were clamped shut and he was gritting through some private pain

“Hey,” you said, stepping out of the car, but keeping the open door in front of you as a barrier. “I was hoping to get some gas.  Do you happen to know if anyone works here?”

His pace did not falter, nor did his deranged grin. 

You thought maybe he hadn’t heard you clearly at first, so you waited for him to get a few feet closer.  Nearly three car lengths away at that point and you made the decision to stay put, ignoring the sharp gut instinct telling you to start the engine and go.  

“Sorry, do you work here?” You weren’t sure why that came out of your mouth considering his attire. “I only need a couple gallons.  I have cash if—-”

“You shouldn’t be here,” the smiling man said, maintaining a show of teeth.

He also said your name.  Somehow, he knew your name.

An alarm went off in your gut.  “Do I know you?”

You hadn’t yet had time to process the idea that you’d gone to the wrong place entirely for your date, and Steve wasn’t even the one you were supposed to meet.  

The smiling man got closer, only a car length away by then.  

With a start, you noticed that a woman in an old fashioned Nurse uniform—like the type one might wear for Halloween��was not far behind the man in the suit, headed toward you at the same pace with her hair done in two platinum blonde braids..

Her smile was not as wide but just as unsettling.  

“Hello?” You yelled in the direction of the service station, knowing you should go over and try to knock, but your feet felt like they had concrete shoes on.  

“Hello?” A high-pitched voice came from somewhere behind you, and it was clearly mocking, complete with a maniacal giggle at the end.  

You spun around to find that the smog was a curtain, and you were unable to see beyond it.  It was gathering around you legs too, as if preparing to drag you into the void.

Disoriented and panting, you watched a car come flying up over the curb, gunning the engine so hard that one of the hubcaps flew off.

The avocado green Ford Pinto caught air for a second before the bumper crashed into the smiling man, bending him in half like a rag doll.  It pinned him into the stone of the building with a loud, sickening crunch. 

You would’ve screamed but your breath caught on a sharp inhale, making you choke.  

Clearly broken by the impact, the smiling man’s expression never faultered, and he was still staring pointedly at you while bits from the wall crumbled around him.

Black blood dripped from his lips and eyes like tar.

“Fuckfuckfuckwhatthefuck,” you babbled while Joyce flapped her arms to try and get your attention from the window of the passenger seat.

“Hurry, get in!” She shouted, her voice cracking at the end.

Steve was driving, and he backed up enough so that the body of the smiling man slumped to the ground.

Throwing the vehicle into park, Steve bolted from his seat with what looked like a baseball bat covered in jumbo nails like a medieval mace. 

He swung to strike the woman in the nurse uniform with it, but missed, and she hissed at him. Her mouth grew 5 times its original size, crowded full with rows of sharp teeth.  Her eyes stretched into empty, cavernous holes with nothing behind them, her fingers were long claws and her…her….

It was then that you realized you were screaming.

9

“Steve watch out!” Joyce had a hold of your hand, dragging you along with all of her mite.

The thing that was once the woman in the nurse uniform let out a shrill cry just before the nail bat made contact with its skull.  Its head whacked into the side of the Pinto and bounced off, causing a spray of black blood.

It barely made a difference.  

It lunged jerkily and swiped at him; mouth gaping, eyes two spirling tunnels to hell, but before it could make contact, Joyce pulled a tiny firearm out of her sleeve and took aim, cracking the thing in the cheek with a bullet. 

“I hate these things,” she muttered under her breath while the tip smoked, and you weren’t sure if she meant guns or the Other thing that tried to take a bite out of Steve; possibly both.

The nurse stumbled back behind the pumps and fell out of view.

“GET. IN.” Joyce was stronger than she looked as she stuffed you into the back seat of the Pinto.  In haste, you scraped your knee on a piece of metal behind the passenger seat, but had no idea until you saw the blood running down your leg some time later.  

The smiling man shuffled to his feet like he was being tugged up by strings.

His guts were spilling out of him but yet, he was able to stand.  Stand and smile.  With inky ooze dripping from everywhere like melting wax.  

Joyce was in the process of shutting her door as Steve backed up.  You felt the jarring bump when the wheels went over the nurse.  

You caught Steve’s eye in the rearview mirror.  “Are you okay?” He demanded.  “Did any of them touch you?”

On the seat next to you was the nail bat; some of the nurses’ blonde hair was sticking to it.

“No, uh, no, I don’t think so. What are they? Did you just kill that woman? Take me back to my car.  Tell me what is going on!”

He was lightning fast on the gears once he’d backed up into the street, just in time for you to see the nurse sit upright; black tar leaking from the hole in the back of her head. 

“That’s not a woman,” he grunted, flooring the pedal. “It's not even human.”

“What does that mean?” Shaking, you listened to your own horrified voice as if from a distance.

Joyce swiveled in her seat to give you the best comforting twist of her lips that she could muster.  “I’ll do my best to explain, back at the diner.”

“Why aren’t they dead?” You whined, staring back at the nurse one last time before the gas station disappeared in the smog.

Through the window you saw that there were more of those Things that resembled people lining the sidewalk, standing shoulder to shoulder. They swarmed in from the shadows one by one to watch the vehicle pass with vested interest.  

Their eyes followed you like the pinto was a one-man parade. Or perhaps a meals-on-wheels.

“Where did they all come from?” You asked, almost certain you wouldn’t get an answer.

“Your guess is as good as ours,” Steve sighed.

He was awfully calm considering what you’d just witnessed.

From the rearview mirror dangled a similar stone to the one Steve wore around his neck, suspended by cream string or twine.  

There was a crackling noise and then a new voice sounded like it was coming from a radio.

“Joyce, are you there?” A pause and more crackling. “Need you to talk to me Joyce. Harrington? Anyone?”

There was a CB radio attached to the dash.  Joyce unhooked the mouthpiece from its metal hinge and put it to her mouth, depressing the side button.

“I’m here, Hop,” Joyce was doing her best not to sound rattled, adjusting her collar.  Her glance flicked to the back seat.  “We’re safe.  We got her.”

The following silence hissed static before Hopper cleared his throat.  “Good, that’s good.  And Steve?”

“He’s here,” she assured.  “Not a scratch.”

Jim was all the way on the other side of town about to take his shoes off and have some of the potato vodka his buddy Scott distilled in his basement when he got word that Joyce and Steve were going after you.  He’d begged Joyce to wait for him, but knew she wouldn’t.  He’d sped to the scene as fast as he could.

“I’ll be at Benny’s in two,” he said.  “Be careful. Over and out.”

10

Gravel crunched under the tires as Steve pulled into the diner.  Three of the things with the same posture as the smiling man were slinking out of the woods.  Two from the left, and one from around the corner on the right.  

They had the same lock-jawed grins, but this time, one was a high school boy in a green letterman’s jacket, one was an elderly woman in a robe with a shower cap on her head, and the third was a boy no older than twelve.

Disarming at first, but then you recognized the dead eyes, assessing you like a shark.

“There’s more,” Joyce gestured behind at the handful that were meandering up from the street. They all had a certain gait to them; like those serial killers in movies to go at a snail pace, but somehow always catch up to the victim. 

Steve looked over his shoulder to get a look through the back window, and then his gaze landed on you again.

His scowl was more stern than he meant for it to be.  “If you run, I can’t promise I’ll be able to save you again,” he swallowed, softening.  “Joyce is going to head into the diner first, you follow her, and I’ll take up the rear, got it?”

You thought you gave a response, but maybe not.

“Nod if you understand,” he rumbled.

“I understand,” you said weakly, noticing that your cheeks were wet.

The things had the gait of zombies, but they were far from brain dead, and their skin suits weren’t composed of rotting flesh.  Aliens, maybe? Vampires? How the fuck was this even happening? 

“Ready?” Joyce had her fist around the door handle, ready to jump out and push her seat forward for your exit.

The old woman and the little boy with a mop of raven hair were only a few yards away, and you remembered how the nurse’s face had changed into a horrific maw of terror.

“Don’t look at them,” Joyce urged.  “You just grab onto the back of my shirt and keep your eyes forward.  They’re scary fuckers, but they are also really slow.”

You broke through the wall of fear that had you frozen in place, and tried not to think about how close the old woman was when you bolted from the back seat and tripped.  

Of course you would trip.

Your knee caught all of your weight making you gasp in pain, but a surge of adrenaline pushed you through it, snatching Joyce’s hand as you went.

“Good to see you again, Joyce,” the old woman purred.  “Who is your friend?”

“Fuck you!” Joyce said from the front door of the diner, yanking a janitor cluster of keys from the crossbody bag she wore.  

You kept your gaze glued to the back of her head, but peripheral vision showed that the duo were almost within arms reach.  Ice cold breath prickled down your spine.

Steve was behind you then, warm body crushed against yours, shielding you from the Others while Joyce undid the lock. All of you practically landed in a dogpile on the floor inside the diner.  

Joyce sank down on the ground right where she was on the tile, panting while the strange Others begin to huddle at the entrance, peering in at you with salacious intent.

“She’s pretty,” the little boy said. “We just want to introduce ourselves.”

“You can’t keep her from us forever,” said the guy in the letterman’s jacket. Now that you had a closer look, you could see that the gums around his pearly white teeth were the color of rot.  

Steve rolled his shoulders back, nostrils flaring while he maintained the stand-off with nothing but a single pane of glass between them.  .

You took hold of his arm, unnerved by how close he was and how easily the glass could be shattered.

“Steve, get away from—-”

“They can’t do shit,” he snapped, more to them than to you. He pointed to a stone that was ten times the size of the one around his neck and mounted on the wall.  “They can’t touch us now.”

How those rough cut rocks with some type of symbol carved into the surface kept anything out was another mystery.  Was it like the symbol of the cross for demons and vampires?

Were those things some breed of demon?

Blinded by a sudden white flash, you had to shield your face when a pair of headlights bounced into the lot. 

“It’s Hopper,” Joyce sounded relieved, getting to her feet.  

The three that had been crowding at the door to leer in at you shuffled off to go and check it out.

The next thing you heard was the discharge of a gun.  The jolt of it made you throw your arms around Steve, but then you quickly pushed off, clutching a hand over your heart.

Another gunshot, and then another.

One more for good luck.  

A large man in a tan uniform and a substantial mustache squeezed his thick shoulders through the diner door, holstering his gun.  He took his hat off once he was inside and swept a large hand through the new haircut Joyce had given him.  

Outside, you could see the high school kid face down on the ground, sprawled like a starfish.

“It won’t kill them,” Hopper said, as if he could read your thoughts.  “But it does slow them down a bit.”

He fished a toothpick from his front pocket and bit down on it.  “We try to keep bullet use to a minimum, but that sure felt good.”

“You didn’t have to come,” Joyce tucked herself under his open arm and hugged him.  “I told you Steve and I had it covered.”

“Yeah, well,” he closed his eyes and perched his chin on the top of her head.  “It’s not every day we get someone new in town.”

You must’ve looked like you were about to throw up or pass out because Steve started making comforting circles on your back with the flat of his hand.  

“You guys are only a few miles off the freeway,” the synapses in your brain were still fighting for a chance to make sense of it all.  “How do the authorities not know about this?”

You couldn’t peel your attention away from the sprawled body out on the pavement.  In the distance, groups of Others lumbered toward the building.

“I am the authorities,” the man introduced as Jim Hopper said with a glint of humor in his eye.  

“She’s with me,” Steve blurted. The comment came so far out of left field that everyone turned to stare at him like he had lobsters crawling out of his ears.  

“I mean,” he stammered, nibbling his bottom lip. “She can stay here with me if she wants, on the pullout in the store room.  I’ll be fine in one of the booths.”

There were 7-8 of those things waiting outside the door at that point, including the ones that had been shot by Hopper, but those were all rising like marionettes by then.  A busty woman with long red hair joined the stalkers, as well as a balding middle-aged man, and what appeared to be an elderly Priest.  

Hopper put his hat down on a nearby table and sank into a chair as if it was just another day.  “Coffee if you’ve got it.”

“Um, yeah, sure, I’ll make a fresh pot,” Steve moved around the partition toward the kitchen, grazing your hand with the tips of his fingers to urge you to move with him.

He leaned over to whisper.  “We need to wait 15-20 minutes before they can go back out.  Those things will get bored and wander off somewhere else.  Back to hell or wherever they are from.”

“Sit here,” he tapped the end of the counter and a padded stool so that he could talk to you while he made the brew.  

11

He put several scoops of grounds into a filter at the top of the machine and made sure it was filled with water.  He’d removed his flannel at some point, and you caught yourself watching his back muscles twitch under the thin material of his white tee. The water he used was not from the sink, but in a plastic gallon jug with a duct taped handle.

You were still standing when he turned and wiped his hands down his denim-clad hips.

“That guy at the gas station,” you started.  “The one you…the one in the suit, he…”

Tasting bile, you tried to find your words and Steve did not try to rush you.

“That thing…he knew my name. How could he know that?”

On an exhale, Steve leaned forward to rest his forearms on the counter.  He wanted nothing more than to be able to put you at ease and say you had nothing to worry about, but alas.

“Yeah so it’s one of those mysteries I’ve been trying to figure out since I got here,” he opened his hand and ran his thumb over the calluses on the opposite palm.  “They know things they shouldn’t know and they survive things no living organism should survive.  The only way we know how to kill them is—-”

“Since you got here?” You blurted.  “Did you just show up like I did? How long have you been here?”

“Well, I guess you could say I showed up like you did, but not really,” he rolled his head, stretching the sides of his neck so that something popped.  “One day I was in a place I refer to as Normal Hawkins, and then I was in this very different version of the same town.  We all were.”

“Wait, so,” you frowned, simultaneously comforted by the familiar warm scent of brewing coffee. The machine spit and sputtered. “You mean this isn’t Hawkins?”

“No, it is,” he swiped a tongue over his top teeth. “It’s hard to explain.  Robin and I have been reading up on, you know, alternate universes and such.  Parallel worlds.  We think this might be one of those.”

“Robin?” Your eyebrow shot up.  

“My best friend. I mentioned her before.”

“Oh yes, right. Where is she tonight?”

“Safe at home, I hope,” he went over to get a couple mismatched mugs from a light blue drying rack. “We used to live together but she moved in with her girlfriend and—” he stealed himself, realizing he was about to ramble on about his personal life.   

“We’re out of cream today, but I have a lot of sugar,” he plucked a few packets from his magic apron pocket: one pink, one white, and one brown.  

He loved offering you sugar.

He took the other two steaming mugs over to Joyce and Hopper while you stirred in the white crystals with a tiny spoon.  It crossed your mind that maybe never left your apartment, and were actually asleep on the couch, dreaming all of this.  

Easing down to take a reluctant seat, you perched on the edge of the stool. The deep orange of the upholstery was worn and split down the middle, exposing the white stuffing.

You took a peek over your shoulder to find that half of those Things were gone; only the redhead, the priest, and the high school kid remained.  Where the bullet hole tore through his cheek was almost completely healed, but the weeping black blood remained like tear-soaked mascara.

His evil smile widened when he caught your eye, making you swiftly spin away.  You scooted down to the opposite end of the counter so that you wouldn’t be within view.

Steve observed your seat change and did what he should’ve done when they first got there, which was to walk over and pull the shades down to cover the glass on the door.  He was so used to ignoring them, he’d forgotten what it was like to comprehend their existence for the first time.

“I promise, you’re safe in here with us,” Steve leaned in to whisper. “I don’t know how the stones work, but they do.”

In a few days, it would be exactly two years since he’d been forced to cohabitate with those…ghouls.

A ghoul was the closest he’d come to describing them.  But they weren’t a typical braindead zombie on the ravenous hunt for fresh organs like he’d seen in the old George Romero movies; they were unfortunately intelligent and possessed some type of psychic ability or hive mind.

The only thing that could kill them was decapitation, which also synced up with common zombie lore. If bitten or attacked, the person afflicted did not turn into one of them, which was a small mercy.  Steve’s good friend Tommy had been one of the first to meet such a fate; they’d buried all of his mauled body parts out near Skull Rock.  

Twenty months later, there were several rows of marked graves to accompany him.

“Steve?” He liked the way you said his name.  

“Uh huh,” popping a hip out to rest it on the counter, he took a sip of his coffee from a Star Wars Ewok mug, addressing you over the rim.

“So, you never put a personal ad in the newspaper?” One hand was trembling, so you slotted it between your knees. 

He inhaled to speak, but you continued.  “The voice message I got sounded just like you, and it told me to meet you here.”

Your mug was beige with brown lettering that said: Accountant’s Never Die, They Just Lose Their Balance.

“It wasn’t me,” he said softly.  “Believe me, I would never want to drag anyone into this.”

He continued, frowning.  “I wonder if it was Other Steve that put the ad in the paper?

“Other Steve?”

He shrugged.  “I mean, if this is a case of parallel worlds, there is a chance that there is another version of me back in that other version of Hawkins.  The version that didn’t keep us trapped like rats in a cage.”

Even though it sounded ludacris, you considered it, because even that was quite a bit more comforting than the alternative.

He said your name, making you look up.

“So, you were supposed to go on a date with some other Steve guy?” It had been a while since he felt that particular brand of jealousy. “What a small world.”

“You could say that,” you swallowed, feeling judged. “I should’ve known that the only promising personal ad would lead to more horrors.”

He gave a low chuckle, feeling bad for the other parallel version of him who probably waited at Benny’s for a solid hour, thinking he got ditched.  

If only Other Him knew you were absolutely worth waiting for.  

“Steve?” 

“Mhmhm,” he scratched the stubble on his jaw.

“Are we dead?” It bubbled out of your chest as you stared into your coffee.  “Did I die out there on the highway or something?”

“I don’t think so,” he said, tucking his chin. “I’ve wondered that too, like, a lot, but I don’t think this is the end.  I think we’ll make it out of here one day.  I know we will.”

Something vibrated in the shared silence and you found yourself staring at his parted lips.

“I’m not ready to die.”

Your whisper was interrupted by a sudden, obnoxious noise coming from the back room.

It sounded like the rattling of a doorknob, like someone trying to get in.

12

“Stay here,” Steve instinctively grabbed the closest and biggest knife, held it aloft like Michael Myers, and went to investigate.

He put a hand over the stone under his shirt too, reminding himself that this building was protected.  Those things could try to open the door, but even then they’d be powerless to step over the threshold, much like a vampire without a proper invitation.

The ghouls that had been huddling like cattle at the front door were all gone as far as you could see, and you wondered if maybe they’d wandered around to try another way in.

“What’s going on?” Jim scooted his chair out and stood to see why Steve was holding the knife like that.

Without answering, Steve made his way around a metal supply rack, eyes narrowing on the brass knob of the back door.  

It was wiggling violently, causing Steve’s heart to explode in his throat.

The jostling stopped only long enough for there to be a loud thud and quake of the door frame while whatever was on the other side rammed itself against the wood. 

By then, Hopper had unholstered his gun and was on his way over.  

You and Joyce had the same idea at the same time and both started looking for a weapon.  Joyce found a pair of scissors, but all you could find was a fork.

“Let me in, motherfuckers!”  A voice shouted from the other side of the door.

Another thud, more frantic twisting of the knob.

“Wait,” Steve put his hand up to slow Hopper from going ahead of him.

The possible intruder went still.

“Munson?” Steve asked.  “Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me man. You need a secret code or something? I’ve got one of those freaks on my ass, please open the fuck up!”

Hopper’s shoulders sagged and he lowered his weapon.  Out of habit, Steve checked above the door to make sure the protection stone was still mounted there before he searched to see where you were.  The ghouls were capable of mimicking voices to trick people into dropping defenses for them, but if there was even a tiny chance it really was Eddie, he had to check it out.

He planned to drill a peephole in that door the first chance he got.

Steve twisted open the lock and stepped way back.  “It’s open.”

The guy who blew into the kitchen before slamming the door behind him to lean against it shivering was definitely not one of those things from earlier.

Panting, Eddie clicked the lock.  “Fuck me Harrington, that thing almost got me. There were two of them, fuck, maybe ten.  I stopped counting once I started running.”

“Eddie, what happened?” Joyce pushed by Hopper.  “Where are your shoes?”

It was just then that you realized Eddie’s feet were bare. He wore a pair of tattered jeans and a worn shirt with the faded phrase Hellfire Club on the front.  His long hair was wet and if he’d already taken a shower, the looks of his feet said he needed another one.

“Leave it to me to lock myself out of the trailer again,” his teeth were chattering, and without asking for one, Joyce handed him a multicolored, crocheted blanket from the broom closet to put around his shoulders.  “I was headed over to find Wayne at Claudia’s, but then I got cornered and well, the rest is history.”

“Why didn’t you use the front door?” Steve crossed his arms with the point of the knife sticking up.

“I don’t know, man,” Eddie pulled the blanket tight around himself like a cocoon and shut his eyes tight.  “Why doesn’t anyone do anything?  Sorry if I scared you or whatever.”

Joyce introduced you as Eddie shuffled out to the dining area, and all he said was, “hey,” in greeting before he slumped into one of the booths, adjusting so that his back was to the wall and his legs straight along the bench seat.

“You got any shoes I can borrow?” The visitor with the long, wet hair asked Steve. 

Steve put the knife back in the slot with the others.  “Borrow as in I get them back tomorrow or borrow as in they become yours and I’ll never see them again?”

“Just forget it,” Eddie grunted.  It wasn’t long before Steve threw a pair of flip flops at him and brought him a cup of coffee.

“Looks like it’s safe for us to split,” Jim announced a few minutes later, putting his hat back on. The parking lot was quiet, and even if there were any creepy ghouls nearby, they’d be able to get behind the wheel of their cars without making contact.  

“You need a ride back to your place, Eddie?” Joyce asked while she walked their coffee mugs over to the back sink. “I still have a spare key from that time you let me and Will stay there.”

“Yeah that’s cool,” Eddie said absently.  His attention had shifted and you realized he was staring at you.

“So, wait, you’re new here?” Eddie asked. 

“Just came into town a few hours ago,” Steve answered somberly.

You’d been sitting with your back to Eddie, but then turned on your stool to make eye contact across the room.

“Shit, that sucks,” Eddie blurted.  “I mean, you don’t suck, but just like, I’m not sure what type of bad luck makes people end up here.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you simply nodded a few times in agreement; it did, indeed, feel like bad luck, or something worse.

After a beat, Eddie cleared his throat.  “You, um, don’t happen to have any smokes on you by chance?”

“Yeah, I do, actually,” you could almost hear a soft whine of relief come out of him.  “Well, not on me. There’s an untouched pack in the glovebox of my car but it’s…”

You trailed off realizing that your bag with all of your ID and personal shit were back in the car, too.  You’d left in such a hurry, the keys were probably still in the ignition. Fuck, the last thing you needed was for someone to steal your car and your bag.  Could those zombie things drive? You’d almost forgotten about that secret pack of Camel Lights that you’d stuffed in there for emergencies, but you never expected it to be for an actual emergency.  

“Yeah? Where’s your car?” He sat up, alert.  

“Back at the gas station,” Joyce rolled up one of her oversized cuffs.  “There was a run in with a few of those Things earlier and we had to leave in a hurry.”

“I should probably go back there and get my things,” you mused. 

“Not a good idea, not tonight,” Steve interrupted, swinging his arm out as if to block you from the rest of the group.  “In the morning I’ll take you.  Those things usually don’t bother with inanimate objects, unless they are attached to a living-breathing human.”

Eddie mumbled. “Better not catch one of them enjoying a fresh cigarette, or I’m gonna be pissed.”

You stood up, addressing Eddie. “If you want to go by there and take the pack, you are welcome to them. I quit a while ago, so—”

“Yeah, so did I,” Eddie blew a raspberry of a laugh. “But not willingly. They don’t exactly grow on trees here.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest again, rolling his shoulders back.  “I don’t think anyone should be making any unnecessary stops tonight.”

“I agree,” Hopper voiced.

“I’d say it’s necessary,” Eddie countered, knowing that Steve was right.  The safety of morning light would come soon enough.  

Steve shut off the overhead lights and released the blinds that covered the door to peer out.  Eddie shuffled over in Steve’s flip flops and the blanket around him like a little kid leaving for a sleepover.

The three made the decision to take Hopper’s Bronco, and Joyce told Steve to take care.  She kissed his cheek while Eddie gave him a fist bump that Steve seemed unsure how to respond to at first.

“See ya later, alligator,” Steve told them before turning the lock to seal the building again.

You stood side by side and watched until they were safely on the road.  In their wake, something bolted out of the woods and threw its head back to wail like a beast.  It had a bald head and pointed ears and crouched to all fours like an animal.

“Why is that one different than the others?” You asked, clutching onto Steve’s arm.  

“We think those are the older ones,” he cleared his throat.  “But there are only a few of them that I know of.”

“Why do you think they’re older?”  Your gaze was locked on the Thing as it lumbered back out of sight.  

Steve shifted on his feet before pulling the blinds back down.  “It’s just a hunch really, but they seem to be faster and smarter than the others.  Those are the ones that can mimic voices.”

You shrugged away and put your face in your hands.  “This can’t be real.  This has to be a fucking nightmare.”

“It is a nightmare alright,” Steve agreed with you.  “But the thing is, we’re not asleep.”

“How do you know that though? This is probably one of those deep REM dreams that we won’t even remember once we wake up.”

“If this is a dream,” he had his hands on his hips and the sides of his mouth wiggled with a repressed grin.  “How can I find you when we wake up? Do you have a phone number I can call or?”

You shifted your gaze to the floor so that you wouldn’t get lost in his eyes.  “When you wake up, put another personal ad in the paper for me to find.”

“Deal,” he offered a genuine smile that time.  The guy had perfect teeth; it almost made you self-conscious.

13

You had the impression that Steve lived somewhere on the premises, but that was not the case.  The “spare room” he’d mentioned was a cot in the pantry. Apparently he lived in the family home he’d grown up in, but crashed at the diner more often than not. He changed the sheets and threw a Sesame Street comforter on that had probably once been on a twin bed for a child while you were in the bathroom. He handed you a spare toothbrush and before you went in, you asked if the toilet worked.

“Why wouldn’t it?” Steve was honestly confused.

“Well,” you gestured around vaguely.  “If this is some type of post-apocalyptic wasteland where nothing new comes or goes, where is the electricity and water coming from?”

There was a main generator that powered the town, but he didn’t have a chance to get the words out.

Your throat constricted.  “We are dead, we have to be.”

“Because the toilets flush?” He chuckled.

You bristled with annoyance and turned away.  Not annoyance with Steve in particular but with your shit show of a life that refused to let you know peace.  

“Hey listen, I know—-” Steve reached out for you only to freeze his hand in mid-air.

There was music coming from the dining area.

The sound was shrill static at first but then the chorus bloomed, and it took you a second to recognize that the song was When the Night Comes by Joe Cocker.

“I just wanna be the one you run to

I just wanna be the one you come to

I just wanna be there for someone

When the night comes”

“Steve…what is happening?” With each word you were moving toward the sound, disregarding the protests of your gut.

“Let's put all the cares behind us

And go where they'll never find us”

With the only other light being the moon shining through the slats in the blinds, the neon red and yellow caught your attention.

At a table near the window was a replica of an old jukebox, no taller than a bowling ball.  There was a coin slot at the top and white buttons at the bottom to choose from the flipcards with song titles on them.  As you approached, you checked out the window above it to see the shadows made by rows of trees and wondered what could possibly be lurking there, observing you.

“It does that sometimes,” Steve was a few steps behind, combing fingers through his hair.

“Two spirits in the night

That can leave before the morning light

When there's nothing left to lose

And nothing left to fear”

You stood at the end of the booth and stared at the machine.  “Is it the same song every time?”

“Different ones,” his chest was inches from your back, his warm breath on your neck. “But this one is a favorite.”

“I know there'll be a time for you and I

Just take my hand and run away”

“Do you want to wear this?” He’d picked up the flannel and put it over your shoulders.  “I saw you shivering.”

“Think of all the pieces of the shattered dream

We're gonna make it out some day”

Without taking your eyes off of the jukebox, you let him wrap the wool shirt with a quilted lining over you and then, without hesitation, your hand slipped into his and he held it there, interlacing his fingers to step to your side.

A strange weight lifted off of you at the idea of not being able to go home.  

“Do you really think we’ll get out of here one day?” You asked in a whisper.

“I just wanna be there beside you

When the night comes”

Steve admired your profile.  “I hope so,” his voice was a murmur.  “But it doesn’t seem so bad here all of a sudden.”

The jukebox did not run on batteries and it was not plugged into a socket on the wall.

You tipped your chin up slowly to meet his gaze and, just then, out in the street, something inhuman scampered through the parking lot and into the woods.  

His thumb gently rubbed along yours and you could smell a touch of cologne on the flannel.

“Steve, I think we should have some pie.”

He was staring at your mouth while he nodded in agreement.

The music cut off before the song was finished, and the jukebox went dark.

-----

My friends, thank you so much for reading. Hope you enjoyed.

-----

[love-hs28]

Thank you, this is all I needed.

Summary: You come home to Steve having a rough night, but all he needs is a few sweet moments with you to make up for his awful day. gn!reader A little bit Henderson!reader, but not impactful to the overall story Comfort 700 words Posted on: 5-25-24

Your keys jingle as you unlock the front door to Steve’s house, not bothering to knock because he already knows you’re coming over. You slip off your shoes and set your overnight bag on the steps leading upstairs. You take your hair out of your ponytail from work and make your way to the kitchen, where you can hear the sink water running and dishes being done. 

“Hellooo,” you sing-song as you walk to sit at the island, “whatcha doin?” 

Steve slightly turns his head and gives you a soft smile, but the lighting is too dim to make out much of his face.

“Hey,” he turns back around, “just cleanin up a bit.” 

“Funn, funn,” you grab a clean glass from the counter and walk to the fridge to get some juice.

“So,” you set your glass on the counter adjacent to Steve and pour yourself a cup, taking a long drink before immediately refilling the glass and returning the jug back to the fridge. “I was thinking, the boys are going to the arcade tomorrow and Dustin asked if I could give them a ride, and I thought that maybe you could come with me and we could hang out at the arcade for a bit? We don’t have to spend a ton of money cuz I know I definitely won’t be winning much, but it could be fun, you know? Plus it’s always entertaining to see them get all worked up against each other.” 

You wait a beat for Steve to answer, and when he doesn’t, your brows raise in question. “Sooo what'dya think?”

He clears his throat and turns to rub his chin on his shoulder, nodding his head. “Yeah, yeah that sounds fun baby.” 

You tilt your head a bit, confused because he’s acting kinda off.

“Hey, you okay?”

You hear a sniff and Steve nods, but doesn’t say anything.

“Baby,” You start to get up and Steve turns the water off and roughly dries his hands with the towel on the counter before leaning his hands against the edge of the sink, letting out a shaky sigh.

You come up behind him and gently set a hand on his upper arm. 

“Stevie, what’s wrong,”

He lets out a sob at your whisper and turns around into you, burying his head into your neck. Your eyes widen for moment in surprise; Steve has always been hesitant to show this much emotion. You hold him nonetheless.

“Ohh, baby. It’s okay,” 

His shoulders shake and your heart breaks for him. You gently rub his back and bring a hand up to cradle his head, your only source of light being the soft glow from the lamp across and room and the moonlight coming in through the window above the sink. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” You gently ask.

Steve shakes his head and holds onto you tighter, arms wrapped around your waist. You gently run your hands through his hair while softly rubbing his back. You let him catch his breath and when his crying slows down, he leans back to wipe his face, letting out another shaky breath.

Your hands come up to his face and wipe the remaining tears as his hands rest gently on your hips. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

He shakes his head and comes back to lean forward and rests his forehead on your shoulder, your hands falling to his waist. 

He sniffs. “Just a shitty day. I’m sorry. Don’t know why I’m such a mess tonight.” 

It’s your turn to shake your head and you rub his back once again. “Don’t apologize. I’m sorry you had such a bad day, that really sucks. It’s okay to cry, I don’t mind. I’m here.” 

His breathing becomes shaky again and you think he’s about to start crying more, but he takes a deep breath and wraps his arms around you, lifting you up and bringing you to sit on the countertop, all without letting go of you and re-burying his face in your neck when you sit down. 

Your hands keep rubbing over his shoulders and back, and he sighs contently, “That feels nice.”

You smile and hum in response, not stopping your movements.

“Thank you. This is all I needed.”

You smile softly and kiss the top of his head. “‘Course. ‘s what I’m here for.” 

You stay like this for a few moments more, share a sweet kiss, clean up the kitchen a bit, and go upstairs to shower together and get ready for a good night’s sleep. 

a/n: Hope you enjoyed! I've been on a posting kick recently so we'll see how long that lasts :) Thank you thank you thank you for all of the love you've given on my last few posts! As always, leave requests and everything for me please :) <3

xoxo

[bookshelf-dust]

healing

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 5,445

warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??

a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333

————

November 1985

“No.”

“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?” 

Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make. 

“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes. 

She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”

The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”

Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table. 

“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”

Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around. 

“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.” 

Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment. 

It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down. 

You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro. 

Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money. 

But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.

There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way. 

Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are. 

You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?” 

He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy. 

When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”

He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up. 

“Hey. Glad your test is over?”

That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”

You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch. 

“You have work today?”

Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment. 

Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge. 

“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.” 

You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”

The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her. 

“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say. 

The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is. 

“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice. 

“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.

“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation. 

Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek. 

Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it. 

“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”

“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”

Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together. 

Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale. 

He smiles at her, and El considers that a win. 

You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door. 

He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do. 

When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do. 

Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger. 

He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side. 

“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him. 

He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him. 

“Besides what?” 

You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself. 

Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless. 

“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again. 

“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it. 

“You know what.”

“I want you to go.”

“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”

————

The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there. 

Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims. 

She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom. 

Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…” 

You and Billy. 

You and Billy Hargrove.

Sharing a room. 

Sharing a bed. 

Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall. 

“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything. 

“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”

That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”

You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?

Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?

“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”

He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”

He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them. 

“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”

You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh. 

“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”

You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that. 

“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you. 

You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”

Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether. 

“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”

You nod your head, and try to move back from him. 

Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”

You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”

Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win. 

“Really?”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back. 

“Yeah, baby.”

Baby. 

It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”. 

And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.

“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”

“Mhm. Thought so.” 

This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.

“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.

When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips. 

You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind. 

You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them. 

Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one. 

“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.” 

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.

————

Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out. 

“Right hand blue.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”

Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card. 

“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”

“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger. 

He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can. 

Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask. 

He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.” 

“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”

“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass. 

“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”

You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder. 

“Something funny over there?” Steve questions. 

You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”

His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”

Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either. 

The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing. 

It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way. 

————

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you. 

You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in. 

He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you. 

When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own. 

You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this. 

He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.

“C’mere then.”

You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”

“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”

“Billy.”

“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side. 

Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined. 

He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?” 

“Yeah.” 

Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?” 

“Yes.” 

He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.

Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before. 

He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him. 

“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.” 

You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck. 

“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break. 

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”

He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous. 

It’s just me. 

“Do they hurt at all?”

Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean. 

“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”

You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed. 

He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them. 

“Goodnight, Billy.”

He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop. 

“Goodnight, baby.”

————

When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.

Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look. 

You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in. 

Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on. 

Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction. 

You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble. 

“Sleep okay?” she asks. 

“Mhm. You?”

“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.” 

You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up. 

“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”

You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”

“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”

You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”

“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet. 

“Oh my god.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”

“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”

“Or lack thereof,” Robin says. 

“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.” 

Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.” 

He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being. 

“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”

————

Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water. 

It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down. 

It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool. 

You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water. 

“Whatcha doin’?” 

Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you. 

“That sounds nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does. 

“Okay.” 

He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do. 

“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”

“I understand, Billy.” 

You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see. 

“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say. 

“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”

He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water. 

Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with. 

When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest. 

He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child. 

“You motherfucker!” 

You get him back, and he’s laughing. 

Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.

You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder. 

“Billy!”

“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water. 

You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating. 

When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so. 

“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”

You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it. 

He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them. 

He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.

Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.

It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks. 

When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.

Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” you respond.

He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat. 

“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”

“Damn right you are.”

You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you. 

“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy. 

“So much for that,” Billy says.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

————

“I’m regretting this, Billy.”

“Stop whining.”

Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this. 

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off, please.”

“Make me.” 

There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.

He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”

And you’d do it again. 

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No. Shut up and take it.”

By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.

You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content. 

He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up. 

He’s never had this before.

Hell, you’ve never had this before. 

And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro. 

You’re healing him. You. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[idyllicwillowtree]

God Eddie, You're So In Love With Me. (part 2)

Genre: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader, fem!reader, angst/fluff, hurt/eventual comfort, friends to lovers

Summary: Being in Hellfire, you’ve been exposed to your fair share of bullying. One day, Jason takes it a step too far.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: bullying, anaphylaxis, poisoning, no physical descriptions of Y/N so you don’t have to look like Dustin, reader uses she/her, reader has a peanut allergy, swearing, angy Eddie, hospital

Author’s note: Thank you so much for the positive comments on part 1! I was feeling insecure about this fic so that was very nice y'all are so sweet <3

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Part 1

Eddie looked to you, hoping to see you looking up at him and smiling that way you do whenever he uses his renaissance voice. Instead he met your panicked eyes.

“Hey Henderson,” Jason called from across the cafeteria. “What happens now? Should we call an ambulance?” Andy shoved at his shoulder playfully and chortled alongside Jason.

Panic gripped you as you connected the dots.

“Yeah,” you wheezed, “call an ambulance.” 

All the Hellfire members whipped their heads toward you, witnessing an angry rash spreading across your skin and your breathing becoming audible as you tried to suck in as much oxygen as possible.

Eddie’s heart clenched painfully as he looked down at you, remembering the severity of your allergy after Dustin explained it to him one time. Still, Eddie was taken aback by the speed at which your symptoms were progressing.

You reached a hand out to Eddie as the choked coughs took over. He ignored your hand in favor of catching your body before it hit the ground. With trembling limbs he carefully lowered you to the grimy tile of the cafeteria floor.

“Fuck,” Eddie cursed, “Dustin! What do we do?!”

Dustin had froze. Panic set in as he watched his older sister struggle more and more to take in a full breath. A small crowd began to gather and the excited chatter of the cafeteria simmered into hushed whispers and gasps. Everyone was watching, and not in the way Eddie was used to.

“Henderson!” Eddie snapped. 

At that, Dustin went to work. “Mike, go call 911! Lucus, see if the nurse has an epipen. GO!” The sheep dispersed. Dustin picked up your bag with trembling hands and began digging through your books and school supplies, searching for the epinephrine injector he swears you kept in there.

Eddie turned his attention back to you, trusting that Dustin had the rest handled. At the look of panic in your blotchy and swollen face he almost froze too. A chilling dread spread through his veins as you began clawing at your throat, doing everything you could to open your airways. 

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me princess. You’re gonna be alright, gonna be just fine, you hear me? D-Dustin will getchu your meds and you’ll be good to go,” Eddie rambled, trying to convince himself just as much. He gently cradled your warm face and stroked your hair to try and soothe you.

With every second passing you became closer and closer to death. Eddie looked up in desperation. His red-headed neighbor (Max, he thinks her name is) snatched the backpack out of a distraught Dustin’s hands and turned it upside down, emptying its contents. Robin was there too and put a comforting arm around your brother while Max took over the search for the injector. Eddie was vaguely aware of a teacher trying to pry him off of you but he’d risk getting expelled for shoving a teacher if it meant staying by your side. 

“Got it!” Max exclaimed, holding the orange and clear tube triumphantly. She slid to her knees on your otherside, not hesitating to jam the needle into your leg and holding it there.

Eddie flinched at the force it took to inject you. You took your first full breath, allowing him to take one as well. Your eyes were drooping slightly as the medicine was introduced into your system.

“Hey, there she is,” Eddie said gently.

Your tired eyes met his and he could’ve sworn the corners of your lips twitched upwards.

The paramedics arrived and Eddie hesitantly let you go so they could treat you. It was a blur of navy blue and red as they hooked you up to numerous tubes and slid an oxygen mask over your head. 

You became slightly more alert at the sight of strangers surrounding you as the stretcher clicked into place, raising you a couple feet off the ground. You moved your head tiredly trying to catch sight of anyone you knew. Anyone to comfort you.

“Dustin, go with her,” Eddie told the curly haired boy. He looked up at him with wet eyes that clenched at Eddie’s heart. “She needs you, go on.”

Eddie watched the determination emerge on the freshman’s face as he walked through the paramedics declaring that he was your brother, allowing him to be by your side. 

Swallowing thickly past the dryness in his mouth, Eddie watched you get rolled out on the stretcher. 

He turned numbly to see that Lucas and Mike had returned and started digging through your lunch, in an attempt to find out what it was that could’ve caused your reaction. As the two predictably began to bicker, Eddie grabbed the cup of applesauce and slowly brought the spoon out. To his horror, he scooped out a few small round nuts mixed with the smooth texture of the applesauce. 

His darkened eyes snapped up, immediately finding Jason. He at least had the decency to look scared, his skin white as a sheet. True terror shining through as he came to realize the severity of what he did. He shook his head slightly, pleading with Eddie. For what, he wasn’t sure. But he could give a shit.

The grip on the applesauce tightened, causing it to tremble, before he launched it in Jason's general direction. A fire of rage lit up Eddie's entire being, consuming any reason or restraint within him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! You could’ve killed her!!” Eddie roared, the words ripping from his throat like a thunderclap.  Every fiber in his being screamed for justice, determined to ensure that no harm would ever come to you again. 

“I-I-I didn’t think…I didn’t mean to-” Jason blubbered.

“Not good enough!” Eddie snapped. He charged forward, driven by the need to avenge your pain. Just when he was closing the distance between them a thick arm wrapped around his upper body. “LET ME GO!”

Eddie struggled against the firm grip that held him back from doing to Jason what he should've done a long time ago. If Eddie was strong enough, he could've saved you, stopped all of this bullying in its tracks before Jason had ever even looked in your direction. His strength never came from muscles or brute force, but from his anger—the primal need to protect those he loved. He was so consumed by his rage that a red haze blurred his vision. Or were those his tears?

“Eddie, man, don’t do this,” Doug said, doing his best to calm his friend.

“Please,” Eddie pleaded, losing some of his fight. “Just let me go.” 

“Dude, if you get into a fight you won’t be able to see Y/N in the hospital,” the bassist whispered in Eddie’s ear. He looked over and saw Principle Coleman closing in on them, there wasn’t much time left. “We can handle it, just go while you can.”

A wave of overwhelming frustration washed over Eddie as the struggle against Doug’s hold diminished. Tears welled up in his eyes as his chest released his rage and tightened back up with helplessness and despair.

He didn’t let it consume him though, taking off in the opposite direction of the principle, his sheep following close behind.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the van ripped into the hospital parking lot, Eddie finally took notice of how many stowaways he had. Lucas, Mike, Max, Robin, and even Nancy all burst through the double doors at the back of his skunky smelling van and made their way to the emergency room entrance.

Eddie was the first one through the doors, eyes scanning the waiting area for his curly haired friend. What he wasn’t expecting to see was the one and only King Steve sitting with the boy. 

Steve noticed them first, taking the lead on letting them know what’s going on. He explained that you’d be fine but the doctors are running some tests and getting you hooked up to the necessary machines. It’ll be a little longer before Eddie gets to see you with his own eyes.

Eddie turned on his heel and walked through the doors he just came through as Steve explained that your mom was called but was on a trip with her girlfriends and won’t be able to make it back until tomorrow.

The disinfected smell of the hospital only offered to heighten Eddie’s desire for a cigarette. He finds solace in the only coping mechanism he has under his belt, even if he knew it was bad for him in the long run. The stress of the day weighed heavily on him as he leaned on the brick wall of the hospital outside. The familiar routine of lighting up offered a good distraction, the only way to momentarily ease his anxiety.

That was until your brother found him. He silently stood next to him, not feeling the need to fill the silence with anything but the gentle breeze and the birds chirping in the distance. But it made Eddie feel uneasy.

“I’d offer you a smoke, but I don’t want to corrupt you more than I already have,” Eddie said with a sad laugh.

Ignoring Eddie’s comment, Dustin asked, “you remember that one time when Hellfire came over to my house for a session? When the theater kids needed the drama room at school?”

Eddie nodded his head slowly, releasing the smoke from his lungs as he did so.

“I was still in middle school so I had only heard about you from Y/N. She had this weird way of speaking about you. It was in a way I had never heard her speak about anyone before.”

Eddie’s heart punched against his ribs painfully, his insecurities taking over.

“She was nice enough to let me watch your campaign so I could get ideas for the campaign I was doing with Mike and Lucas, and our other friend Will. I think she regretted it because of the Reese's Pieces incident.”

Eddie couldn’t help but start chuckling embarrassingly at the memory. “God, that was so stupid,” he smacked his forehead in an attempt to stop his mind from reliving one of the most embarrassing moments of his life. 

-

The Hellfire members flooded into your home, bringing chips, candy, and drinks to share. Your first time hosting the club was going great, until Dustin noticed the bag of Reese’s Pieces in Eddie’s hand.

“My sister is too nice to say anything but-” Dustin started.

“Stop, Dustin-”

“-we can’t have those in the house.”

Eddie’s eyebrows pinched beneath his bangs, “what? Why not?”

“She’s allergic to peanuts.”

Before you could roll your eyes at your little brother and reassure him it was fine, Eddie turned and chucked the bag out your kitchen’s open window leaving you standing there in shock and Eddie horrified by his own impulse.

-

“I think that’s when she fell in love with you.”

Eddie’s head whipped over to Dustin. The kid had the audacity to look smug after completely shattering his world view. His mind spun with the revelation.

Love, a word so potent, was now intertwined with his thoughts of your relationship. Eddie knew he liked you, a lot, but his brain never brought him to love. He replayed moments from your friendship in his head, searching for the signs, trying to decipher if Dustin was telling the truth. If the sentiment was truly real. A mix of surprise and uncertainty overwhelmed him, but there was also something warm and hopeful there. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

He needed to see you and hear it from you directly. A million thoughts and memories raced through his mind, but one thing was clear–he needed to be with you, to tell you how he felt.

part 3

tags: @beeblisss @fishwithtitz @leah-loves-lilies

[munsons-melody]

angeleyes

summary: after seeing nancy get pulled into a trance, eddie gets worried the same might happen to you and makes you a tape with your favorite song on a loop, even though you're broken up

pairing: eddie munson x female!henderson!reader

cw: bit of angst but ends with fluff

recommended songs: 'disillusion' and 'angeleyes' by ABBA

word count: 3.3k

a/n: did i start crying while writing this? yes, yes i did. also NOT PROOFREAD! also feedback is always appreciated :)

masterlist

part two of this fic called ‘your song’ can be found here

i do not consent to having any of my works republished, translated, or posted to any other site except here. if you see my works anywhere but tumblr, it has been republished without my knowledge, consent, or permission.

-

the two of you were together for almost a year. you were inseparable from the start but as months passed, you each kept getting busier and busier and whenever you were together, it would end in a giant screaming match with one of you crying while the other stormed off with no apologies in store till days later.

even though you knew the two of you were in a rough patch, you never expected the last fight to be your final one. you were at each others throats, a silly bicker turning into a full blown fight. you were both teary-eyed, throats sore from screaming and holding back tears, pacing all around the trailer. neither really knew what the fighting was about, but it didn't stop the screaming match that definitely caused the whole neighborhood to wake up from their peaceful slumbers

you still remember the exact moment you felt your world shatter. you stood in eddie's room, wiping the tears from your cheeks as you diverted your eyes from him to the floor, littered with his clothes and various items. you didn't want him to see you cry as hard as you were.

all you wanted was him to say anything like "i'm sorry" or "come here" and have him wrap you up in those strong arms of his, while he stroked your hair and told you he loved you and the two of you would be alright. but nothing of the sort came. the quietness deafening after the two of you stopped fighting.

"maybe we just aren't good for each other anymore," eddie muttered out, and you looked up at him with bloodshot eyes

"what? no! don't say that, please" you said, inching forward but he moved back to avoid your touch

"i think we should break up y/n" he said. it was like someone knocked all the oxygen out of your body as your heart started pounding

"eddie-" you tried but he shook his head, a couple of tears slipping down his cheeks

"y/n, please, just go" he said with anger hidden in his voice, facing away from you

"fine" you said, your blood boiling. you stormed out of his trailer and walked out into the cold evening air, using your walk home as a way to cool down and soon enough your anger turned into more sadness

once you arrived home, you couldn't help but let the tears flow freely, feeling as if your heart was broken into a million tiny little pieces

"shit are you okay?" dustin asked you as you crumpled onto the couch, not caring that you would most likely have to explain why you were crying.

"no" you muttered out, curling into a ball and putting a pillow over your face. he walked over to you, sitting on the coffee table across from you

"did you break up?" he asked and you nodded, turning your head to smush your face into the pillow, letting your tears soak into the fabric of the pillow

"shit shit you're gonna be okay i promise" dustin said with a panic

.

eddie's trailer was in pure chaos as everyone ripped his room apart, looking for some tape that wasn't a heavy metal song to aid nancy in freeing herself from vecna's trance

"music! we need music!" robin screamed out as you watched as she flung a handful of cassettes onto eddies bed, Eddie swiftly picking one of the iron maiden tapes up and screamed at her "this is music!" 

right as you grabbed another box of tapes you heard steve yell "guys!" and all of you ran to the small living room, littered with debris surrounding the mattress that served as your 'landing pad'

you looked up to see steve holding nancy on the floor and you immediately thought the worst, your heart pounding as it skipped a beat, not prepared to see the potentiality of your best friend dead in steves arms 

"she's okay! we're going to come through!" steve's voice rang out, laced with urgency. everyone nodded as they cleared the area. you watched as the two of your friends individually climbed up the makeshift rope and fall through the gate onto eddie's mattress

you saw everyone, or at least assumed everyone, swarm nancy, asking question after question of "are you alright?" and "what happened"

nancy just stayed quiet, holding her arms to herself blinking away tears, and you broke away from the group to get her some water as she slowly sat down on the couch

you moved through the all too familiar kitchen of the munson trailer, wanting to reminisce about the memories you shared with eddie in this kitchen, but refusing to do so due to the fact you a) didn't want to waste time helping nancy and b) didn't want to relive the memories that would just break your heart even more

once you handed nancy the water, you let her be, not wanting to overwhelm her or pressure her into talking about what just happened. you went back into the kitchen, not wanting to be in any ones way, and stood there with your arms crossed

this time you allowed yourself to let those memories creep back in. the early mornings where you would make pancakes for you and eddie's breakfast, and what would be wayne's dinner when he came home before he would go to sleep. the times you would teach eddie how to cook when you felt like making dinner together. the late nights you spent listening to the radio and would dance under the refrigerator light. the times you two would spend after hours of endless sex where even when you tried to have a break from each other to get some water just to end up fucking on the kitchen floor. 

hell, you even smiled to yourself about the time eddie accidentally bruised his knuckles after enthusiastically waving his hands around while in conversation and smacking them on the cabinet, and you of course had to kiss them better.

you heard some shuffling and mumbling behind you and turned to the hallway just to make eye contact with eddie as you watched him drag dustin down the hall and into his room

you heard the door close and some muffled voices, but you couldn't make out the conversation 

-

eddie shut the door and turned to dustin who stood there, confused as ever as to why he was being dragged down the hall 

"what is y/n's favorite song?" he asked with urgency. dustin looked taken aback.

"excuse me?" dustin questioned, looking at eddie as if he had five heads

"your sister, y/n, what is her favorite song?" he repeated with a stern tone

"shouldn't you know?" dustin snapped with an annoyed look upon his face. even though eddie was one of his best friends and someone he looked up to, this breakup between his sister and him was so new and fresh, he didn't know how to act in this situation

"well it changes with her, like it changes all the time man... for a while it was killer queen by queen and then it changed to dreams by fleetwood mac then it changed to, i think, amoreena by elton john? ugh" he groaned

"eddie, why do you want to know? didn't you two break up like a couple of months ago?" dustin pointed out and eddie shook his head, rubbing his temple 

"it was a little over a month ago but-" eddie started before dustin interrupted him 

"and didn't you break up with her?" he questioned further, crossing his arms 

"well technically but i-" 

"'technically' my ass! you completely broke her heart and now you want to know her favorite song? why do you even care all of a sudden? you didn't seem to care when she would come home crying after seeing you at school all day. you didn't seem to care when she wanted to go to her favorite place in this goddamn town but didn’t cause she was scared she'd run into you there. you didn't seem to care when she spent all of her money to buy you those stupid concert tickets for your birthday..." dustin's voice trailed off from his originally loud tone

eddie looked down, a lump forming in his throat

"i didn't know any of that..." he admitted, moving his head up to look at dustin with glassy eyes 

"what?" dustin said and eddie nodded, sniffling 

"i didn't know she did any of that, especially those tickets" eddie said, his voice cracking which mirrored the cracks forming in his heart

eddie sat down on the bed putting his head in his hands, feeling completely and utterly stupid 

"i am the biggest fucking idiot for breaking up with her. it was just the heat of the moment with that stupid fight- and i can't even remember what it was about! i was just tired of the fighting! and now it's been a month but i haven't even talked to her until all of this shit went down but god i love her so goddamn much and i will be damned if something happens to her- if nancy can get under his trance at random who knows if she's next" eddie ranted, standing up and putting both his hands on dustins shoulders

"please dustin, what is her favorite song?" he pleaded. dustin looked at him with sympathic eyes and sighed 

"angeleyes" he muttered out and eddie stared at him with a confused look written across his face

"i think her favorite song right now is angeleyes by abba... i always hear her listening to it and singing it around the house..." dustin told him and eddie's eyes widened 

he ran to the door to open it but as he did he it revealed you standing there, with your arm and fist up in a knocking position 

"y/n" he breathed out and you looked into his eyes, the knots turning in your stomach reminding you of the heartbreak he succumbed you to and you blinked, looking past him at dustin standing there

"sorry, uh we're heading to max's next door, it's safer over there" you said bluntly before turning around and walking down the hallway, steve wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you headed toward the door 

eddie watched you leave and made a b line into the cabinet that sat adjacent to their kitchen, opening the door and starting to rummage through the boxes

"what are you doing? didn't you hear y/n?" he heard dustin ask as he approached behind him

"i know for a fact that we have that abba song on an album somewhere" he rumaged some more before pulling out a handful of tapes by ABBA

"my mom loved them so we had a lot of their tapes," eddie explained, walking back to his room and grabbing a blank tape 

he looked on the back of each tape till he saw the small words ‘angeleyes’ on the back of the voulez-vous album

he put both in his boombox, playing the song and pressing record so he was able to make a loop of the song 

"eddie we need to regroup with everyone next door" dustin pleaded and eddie shook his head

"we can meet them after we get a good loop of at least 10 minutes" he said before turning back to his dresser 

"we shouldn't risk being here longer than we already have, what if someone hears us or even sees us in here?" he pleaded again and eddie shook his head, being stubborn as a mule 

"fine, we'll be all over there where its safe and you can be over here with the fear of being caught" dustin said with annoyance, starting to leave eddie's room when eddie walked over and stopped him 

"just wait 5 more goddamn minutes" eddie told him with an angry tone 

"jesus christ okay" dustin responded with his voice higher than normal 

eddie heard the end of the song and quickly paused the two tapes, and rewinded before pressing the play and record buttons 

he sat on his bed, listening to the song and the lyrics hit him like a train 

'Sometimes when I'm lonely, I sit and think about him And it hurts to remember all the good times When I thought I could never live without him And I wonder, does it have to be the same Every time? When I see him, will it bring back all the pain? How can I forget that name?'

shit he thought to himself, continuing to listen to the lyrics of the song 

'Look into his angel eyes One look and you're hypnotized He took my heart and now I pay the price Look into his angel eyes You'll think you're in paradise Then one day you'll find out he wears a disguise Don't look too deep into those angel eyes'

once the song ended, he rewinded and played it again, internalizing each word he heard from the song 

he came to his senses that both of you were hurting just as much when it came to this break up and he felt guilt and resentment gnawing away at him

how in the world could i ever get her back? he questioned himself, feeling as lost as ever

he heard the song again a couple more times as it was recorded onto the blank tape, feeling like a piece of his heart was shattering with each note

he finally felt satisfied with the loop he had made, and quickly ejected the tapes from where they sat and slipped it into his walk man and shoved it into dustins bag along with a pair of headphones, and they carefully walked out of eddie's trailer and to max's trailer next door

-

you stood next to robin in the kitchen, the two of you hungrily snacking down a pb&j after finding your appetite now that you knew everyone was safe and was able to take a breather from the traumatizing experience you all shared 

"here's one for you and nance" robin said, handing the plates to steve and he smiled before turning to nancy who was in the living room 

"where's eddie and dustin?" max asked you, making a sandwich herself and you shrugged, gulping down some water 

"i'm not sure, i mean i told them we were coming here and that was almost 20 minutes ago" you said, wiping your face

"should we go check to make sure they're still over there and not getting sucked back into the upside down?" robin asked and you nodded

"yeah i'll go, you two finish eating" you said, putting your plate in the sink and walking out to the front door but you noticed the two of them running across the street from eddie's trailer to max's and you switftly moved from the door as they jumped in 

everyone stopped and stared at them since they were out of breath

"where were you guys?" lucas asked and dustin looked at eddie before looking at you and then back to lucas 

"uh sorry we had to reattach the caution tape to the front door so it didn't look suspicious" dustin said, and everyone seemed to buy the lie, nodding to each other as everyone convened in the living room

-

you sat in the stolen rv in the back, looking out the window at the birds playing in the trees. it was parked on the side of the store where there was room to fit it without taking up spaces in the main lot.

you heard dustin and lucas up front near the steering wheel in some conversation when you felt the seat dip next to you.

you turned your body to see eddie sitting there looking at you. 

"hey" he said softly

"hi" you said back, turning to face back to the window 

you hadn't really talked to him over the past few days, not knowing what to do or say since you hadn't spoken since your breakup

"y/n can i please talk to you?" he asked sweetly, and you looked at him again, seeing his eyes in a fixed stare

you just nodded, turning to face him completely

"the reason i was late coming from my trailer earlier wasn't because dustin was fixing the caution tape" eddie started, reaching for dustins bag which was by his feet. you blinked at him, muttering an "okay?" which came out with a more annoyed tone than you intended 

he pulled out a walkman from the bag, and popped the tape out 

"y/n... i don't know what the hell will happen next but i know for a fact if anything happened to you and we didn't have a way to save you i-" he said, wiping a few tears from his eyes

your brows furrowed as you looked at the tape and back at him, meeting each others gaze

"i made this, uh, it's like a 20 minute loop of angeleyes by abba... dustin said it was your favorite song... after seeing nancy be put in that trance just so vecna could talk to her really freaked me out, and i don't know if he'll somehow use you as a pawn in his game, so this is for you" eddie said, fiddling with the tape before replacing it back in the walkman and handing it to you

"oh eddie..." you said, rubbing your thumb over the piece of technology

eddie's heart fluttered as he heard you say his name

"listen, nothing will happen to me, i promise" you said, grabbing his hand in yours. the fact that he was in the shittiest situation to ever occur and he was still thinking about you just made your love for him grow strong, which in turn only fed into your heartbreak because he wasn't yours to love anymore, and he had made that very clear

"yeah but if anything does, i want to- no i need to tell you... i love you y/n henderson. you were the best thing to happen to me in this godforsaken town and the fact that i messed things up will be something i will always regret. i hate that i told you i wanted to break up. i didn't- i was just so sick and tired of always fighting. i've never had someone like you in my life and i thought you were going to break up with me so i went and pulled the trigger before you could. this past month has been pure agony for me, and dustin went and rubbed salt into the wound when he told me about those tickets you got for my birthday, and jesus- im just, im sorry and i love you" eddie told you, rubbing his thumb gently over the back of your hand 

you cupped his face, leaning in to kiss him, craving his lips on yours. he kissed back before you pulled away to look at him

"eddie, i don't even know what to say" you muttered out and he shook his head 

"you don't need to say anything, i just needed to tell you how i felt just incase" he said and you took in a deep breath 

"i've hated you so much these past few weeks for what you did, but fucking hell i love you more than words can say eds. it was very stupid of you to assume i would break up with you just because we were going through a rough patch but, maybe when all of this is over and you learn not to be an idiot, maybe we could have a picnic by lovers lake, just me and you," you said softly, and eddie smiled 

"yeah?" he asked, his eyes lighting up 

"yeah, maybe i can even tell you about the concert tickets i spent all my money on... it was supposed to be a surprise but i guess dustin ruined that" you joked, and eddie chuckled 

"oh honey you didn't have to spend all your money on me, especially not on tickets," eddie said, brushing his fingers through your hair to push it back on your shoulder 

"but you deserve it, your birthday's coming up and ozzy osbourne was going on tour and i knew you wanted to see him" you shrugged with a small smile 

he kissed you passionately, and you melted into his touch, feeling the warmth of his lips on yours and you didn't realize how badly you needed him till this very moment. it was soon interrupted however as the door to the RV swung open, and you pulled apart, watching everyone clamber in yelling that we needed to go

the engine of the RV roared to life as steve sped off the premises, leading you guys onto the next part of your adventure to killing vecna

fin.

[withlovemark]

all of the moments that led me to you.

warning: steve's black eye (nothing new), violence, mentions of blood, a fight between steve x billy

pairing: steve x reader, light billy x reader (not really, this isn't a love triangle lol)

words: 4.5k+

summary: the title speaks for itself -- a series of moments with steve harrington

an: i was going to post everything as one fic but i kind of hit writer's block in the middle of year 1985 so i'll post this for now instead and hopefully gain some inspiration to continue :)

-

yr. 1984

i. the first meeting ft. dustin henderson

the words “code red” hitting your ears every five seconds, the stomping of feet running around the house, the back door opening and closing several times - babysitting is weird. not one kid is ever the same, some are easy-going, others can be a real pain in the ass. 

you hoped you got an easy kid today. one that just stays in front of the television, binging on crackers and occasionally asking for your help. obviously, you were wrong. 

if it wasn’t for the fact that it pays well while simultaneously allowing you to do some of your own studies and looking good on your college resume, you wouldn’t even be here.

but you are here. seated inside the henderson household. 

“hey y/n, can you please drive me to my friend mike’s house?,” dustin runs into the living room, an exasperated expression on his face, interrupting your reading. 

“are you okay?” you ask, worried about the kid you just met when his mother called an hour ago trailing on about how she saw your babysitting flyer some time back. and even though she knew that she had to book a date at least two days beforehand, she still asked if you could watch over her son. 

“just for today” she said, as she needed to look for her missing cat. her promise of double pay, convincing you to accept her request. 

“i’m fine, i just really need you to drive me to mike’s,” dustin says hurriedly, eyes hopeful that you wouldn’t ask anymore questions. 

“why?” you ask and the boy’s shoulder slumps, doing his best to not roll his eyes at your persistence. he’s obviously not used to  asking for permission. 

“i uhm forgot my book there and i really, really need it to study for my exam tomorrow,” he sends you a toothy grin, trying to convince you that that was all there is to it. you’re no fool. you notice the slight change in his voice, his fingers anxiously playing with his pockets, right leg slightly bouncing up and down - indications that he’s lying.

“you know your mom’s not paying for my gas, right?” you reason, not wanting to give in to his request and hoping you could just have a calm afternoon.

dustin sighs, his smile disappearing, “fine. i’ll just go behind your back and bike there and if i end up missing or in a ditch somewhere then it’ll be your fault,” he counters, personality quickly switching from the boy who said “please.” 

you sat there, flabbergasted, “are you…blackmailing me right now?” an eyebrow raising, you couldn’t believe how diabolical the curly headed boy is. 

“i’m not blackmailing you. i’m simply telling you what's going to happen if you don’t drive me,” he smiles, an almost devilish smile, tone hardening with every word and you truly do not know whether you’re terrified or impressed. 

letting out a quiet chuckle, you shake your head, “alright, c’mon kid,” you say, grabbing your car keys off the table, “but we’re going back as soon as you get it.”

——

you should’ve known not to trust him, finding yourself hurriedly getting into the back seat of the car of the last person you ever expected to interact with - steve harrington. 

pushing his forgotten red roses towards the other end of the car, you take your seat in the middle. 

“wh-what are you doing?” dustin turns from the passenger seat, facing you as steve takes in your presence, eyes on his rearview mirror, a confused expression evident on his face. 

“y/n l/n?,” he questions, finally remembering where he has seen you before, “you’re in nancy’s grade?,” he asks, more a question for himself than you. 

you nod, “steve harrington,” acknowledging his presence for the first time. 

 “why are you with dustin?” he wonders. he didn’t know much about you. only that you and nancy were sometimes studying in the library together. she’s told him before that you always get the top grades in class and she wanted to be around more motivated people like you. 

“i’m his babysitter and i’m coming with,” you simply answer his question, keeping the explanation short. it’s weird enough that you were inside the car of hawkin high’s famous “king.”

“since when did you have a babysitter dude,” steve reverts his attention back to dustin. 

“i'll explain later,” dustin reassures him quickly before turning back to you,  “and uhm, you don’t have to come, i have steve now,” he points to the guy in the driver seat like you don’t see him. 

from what you’ve heard about steve, you’re not sure you trust leaving the young boy with him. he’s known for being notorious, having bad company and overall, just a guy with the money, the looks and the popularity that somehow has every girl wanting him and every boy wanting to be him. you’re not sure how that guy can be trusted with kids.

subconsciously, you eye steve suspiciously, causing him to put two hands up in surrender “hey, i have no idea what’s happening either,” he defends, shrugging nonchalantly. 

snapping out of your daze, you focused your attention back on dustin, “look dustin, steve isn’t the one being paid to watch you right now,” you start to explain.

“hold on, you’re getting paid for this?” the older boy interrupted.

you ignore him, attention still on dustin, “if something were to happen to you, your mom would be looking for me. i’m responsible for you kid, i-,”

“fine! there’s no time,” he cuts you off, obviously in a rush. 

“you can come, just,” dustin contemplates, already regretting the words that slipped from his lips, “just don’t blame me for getting you into this thing.”

at that, steve snaps back to reality, “wait, wait, wait, if this ‘thing’ is about ‘that’ then she definitely can NOT come,” steve declared, his voice laced with a seriousness you didn’t think he could have. 

“well, are you going to drag her out of the car so she doesn’t find out about this thing?,” the younger boy replies, a sarcastic tone evident on his lips. 

“guys, i can hear you,” you piped in, eyes going back and forth between the two boys, having absolutely no clue what they’re referring to. 

“dustin, im not joking ok!,” steve ignores you, “we can’t tell people about this,” a serious expression appearing on his face, one you’ve never seen on him before, “we’ll get in trouble, you know that. besides, we shouldn’t involve anyone else into this anyway!,” he protested. 

he didn’t sound like the steve you would hear about at school. he sounded responsible, protective. he sounded like…a babysitter. 

“i know that steve, that’s why i told her to leave!,” dustin shouted. 

“well, she’s clearly still sitting in the backseat of my car!,” steve’s voice raises with every syllable. 

“can someone just explain what’s happening?” you try butting in, rolling your eyes, completely fading into the background as they continue their bickering.

“i don’t see YOU trying to do anything about it!,” dustin throws the argument back to steve, his patience on thin ice.

“she’s YOUR babysitter!,” steve points out yet again, ears turning red, veins popping and finally pushing the young boys’ limit. 

“fuCK!, we don’t have time for this steve, we really have to go NOW!” dustin shouts, losing his temper. 

steve, ready to reprimand him, before you decide you’ve had enough.

the series of “thing” and “this” has your mind spinning and your curiosity getting the best of you.  

“SHUT UP!” gaining the two boys’ attention, their bodies turning towards you, “both of you. shut. up.” you enunciate, loud and clear.  

“i promise i won’t blame you…or you,” glancing at the two boys, “for whatever the hell this thing is…just put your seatbelts on and drive,” ending their argument as you sat behind the passenger seat, clicking your own seatbelt into place. 

steve gives up, letting out a sigh, “fuck it,” before finally stepping on the gas. 

ii. the babysitters and an angry billy hargrove

you should have never picked up mrs. henderson’s call and you definitely shouldn’t have agreed to babysitting. what was the point of having your own terms and conditions when you didn’t even follow them yourself?

you should, however, have listened to steve and dustin when they told you to leave.

the day isn’t even over yet and you’re already questioning everything you knew. in a span of a couple of hours, you have been introduced to a world you couldn’t even imagine. having to pinch yourself a couple of times to make sure you weren’t just dreaming. 

everything was strange. 

you’ve spent the whole afternoon dropping meat, trying to bait something called a demogorgon. met steve’s spiked bat. got questioned regarding your relationship with billy hargrove from his very own red headed step-sister. came face to face with the said demogorgon, who, by the way, had demogorgon friends and were actually a pack of demodogs. almost died in a junkyard. walked in the dark woods just to end up in a creepy laboratory. felt the awkward tension between steve, nancy and jonathan. understood why will byers was called the zombie boy. stood behind steve while holding a random kitchen knife you grabbed from the byers’ kitchen — and to top it all off, encountered a little girl who flung the finally, very dead demogorgon through the window then unlocked the front door, all using only her mind. 

in conclusion, monsters and superpowers aren’t just a thing people read in their comic books.

“how are you holding up?” steve breaks you out of your thoughts, your eyes snapping to his voice. 

everyone else has left, leaving you the only two teenagers to act as the adults once again. 

the strangest thing of all of this was somehow, steve harrington went from being the popular jock to a guy whose simple presence can provide you comfort. everything you knew about him has changed. 

it’s amazing what shared trauma could do. 

you shoot him a small smile, “well, i definitely wasn’t expecting all this,” you look around the mess around you, “to be a part of that thing” you refer back to the boys’ banter, trying to keep the energy light despite everything that happened. 

he gives you a sheepish smile,  almost like he was sorry, regretting that he allowed you to be a part of this. 

“it’s not your fault. i chose to come,” you say, reading his thoughts and putting an end to them. 

“where did you put the demogorgon?” you continue, changing the subject, reassuring him that you were ok. at least, as much as anyone could be ok in this situation. 

“we stuffed it in the fridge,” he shakes his head, arms crossing, like he couldn't believe it himself, “‘for science’ dustin said,” steve quotes the younger boy with a grin.  

“right, of course, all the important things,” you chuckled, matching his grin as the two of you continued to clean the broken fragments that have scattered around the house. 

you thought it was over, that you could all just wait for everything else to unfold in peace but after a few minutes of silence, the kids were back on their feet, ready to "get off the bench.” you’re not sure how steve has the energy to continue arguing with them when you’re completely exhausted. 

the sound of an engine brings a silence to the house, max running towards the blinds recognizing the car that has made an appearance in the driveway, “shit, it’s billy, he can’t see me,” she says frantically, eyes meeting yours, a silent call for help. 

“i got it, just hide,” you hushly ordered, quickly making your way to the front porch. steve tried pulling you back but you were out the door before anyone could protest, resulting in him looking through the peephole. 

billy’s momentarily confused expression at your arrival wasn’t lost on you and if you were in his shoes you’d probably have the same one on, “hey sweetheart, what are you doing here?,” his husky voice taking up space in the cold, night air.

standing a couple steps away from him, his hand immediately finds a spot on your waist, pulling you closer. you placed a hand on his chest to keep some distance between the two of you, aware of the audience you have, “i’m babysitting a kid, his friend lives here,” you explain, smiling sweetly at him, hoping that he won’t suspect anything and leave as soon as he came. 

“have you seen my sister?” he asks breathily, face inching closer and closer to yours, a smirk on his lips. if it was any other day, you would have enjoyed his attention, maybe even be up for some fun. right now though, you just want him as far from max as possible. 

“no, why would she be here?,” feigning innocence, you hope he believes your lie. 

“she’s been hanging out with a couple of kids here, a bunch of bad influences,” he huffed, eyes quickly glancing around you before pulling you even closer.

“i haven’t seen her, she’s probably at the arcade, have you checked?,” you hope he doesn’t hear the shakiness in your voice. 

“you know what i like about you sweetheart?,” he muttered, placing a harsh kiss below your ear, his grip on your waist starting to dig into your skin. you know he has caught you. 

“you can’t lie for shit,” pulling you away from him, gaze darkening, he howled with laughter as you followed his line of vision, seeing four kids peeking through the window — one, with very bright red hair. 

frustrated curses slip from your lips as you shoot them an angry glance before billy grabs your wrist, dragging you right behind him as he pounded on the door, coming face to face with steve. 

“harrington, am i dreaming or is that you?,” he mocks, his hold on your wrist tightening. 

“yeah it’s me, don’t cream your pants,” steve rolls his eyes, hands on his hips like a disappointed mother. 

steve notices you wince under billy’s hold, “let her go man,” he orders, taking a step towards the wider boy. 

billy focuses his attention back on you, for a second you see a feeling of betrayal flash through his eyes but that was quickly replaced with a snarled expression, like he was completely disgusted with the thought of you. 

“is there a reason why you both are here alone?” his dark voice causes goosebumps to rise throughout your body. 

you’ve heard of how violent he can be but until right now, he has never shown that side to you. 

“what are you saying?,” you almost couldn’t recognize him anymore, breath hitching in your throat. 

“are you fucking him behind my back, sweetheart?,” billy’s voice grew menacing, “you know i don’t like to share,” he continued accusing you, his free hand coming in contact with your neck, forcing you to look at him. 

“dude, no. we’re babysitting,” steve answers for you and motioning towards the kids like it’s the most obvious answer in the world.  

“you’re hurting her,” he emphasized, “just let her go,” gently stepping closer, steve has his arms slowly reaching for you, hands up, a signal that he comes in peace. 

steve hopes billy will focus his attention on him instead, just wanting to get you out of there. he feels responsible for your safety and well-being. 

“gladly…” billy shot him an evil smirk, “you can’t trust bitches anyways right, harrington?,” he scowled, violently throwing you against the wall. 

your head makes a direct impact with the concrete, causing you to fall to the ground, a whimper slipping through your lips. you hear the kids' screams and a punch being thrown as you feel your vision slipping between darkness and light.  

you make out dustin running towards you and grabbing your hand, trying to get you to sit up. a couple of unsuccessful tries, he pleads “i’ll come back okay, just stay alive,” as he makes his way back to his friends. 

the proceeding events were all a blur and it felt like you were watching it through static television. one moment you can hear victorious cheers. the next moment, you hear something break and steve is suddenly lying on the floor a couple feet away from you, bloody faced and barely breathing. billy continuously throws his punches and the kids scream in fear. you try to get up but your body betrays you, only allowing you to reach out your arm towards the brown haired boy. 

somehow, the sound of the punches halted and billy fell to the ground. a sigh of relief escapes from your lips while the slow rise and fall of steve harrington’s chest becomes the last thing you see as you completely fade into the darkness.

—

the next time you open your eyes is to another set of screams, waking you up from your much needed slumber, if you can even call it that. you ignore the pounding in your head as you try to regain your vision. the first thing you feel are the strong arms in front of you, acting as your seatbelt, as you try to piece it all together. 

a couple minutes of confusion later, you finally recognize what’s happening, joining steve in full babysitter mode. the yelling of “no’s!,” and “stop the car’s!,” filling the tiny vehicle. 

“great, now they’re both awake!, i told you we should have just left them!,” mike cursed dustin annoyingly. 

“we were not going to leave them there, mike!,” dustin retorted, “c’mon guys i promised you’ll be cool, okay? just calm. down,” he softly ordered, like he was the babysitter and you two were his children. 

you scoff, “dustin, don’t fucking tell me to calm down!,” somehow fearing for your life now more than ever. 

“everyone just shut up, i’m trying to focus!,” max yells as lucas yells the directions in her ear. 

max makes a harsh turn causing a chorus of screams to rise. your hand immediately clutching around steve’s arm, face burrowing in his neck, seeking for protection, afraid of the crash that luckily never came. 

you’re not even too sure what happened the rest of the night but somehow you all made it out unscathed, besides the fact that you and steve are probably suffering matching concussions. 

iii. the heart-to-heart

in the tiny bathroom of the byer’s house, you find yourself standing in between steve harrington’s legs. his body feels familiar now, especially after you seeked comfort in each other in the dark tunnel, the two of you thinking it would be your last breaths. in some way, the miracle happened and the screeching demogorgons ran straight past the two of you, like you weren’t even there. 

you remember looking up at his golden, brown eyes. being that close to him, you noticed how beautiful they actually are and finally understood how he has charmed every girl at school. 

‘i guess it wouldn’t have been too bad dying in steve harrington’s arms.’ you thought to yourself.  

brushing those thoughts away, you bask in the moment of solitude within the commotion that is taking place behind the bathroom door. everyone reunited here, checking up on each other.

“does it hurt?” you ask him as you gently pat the alcohol covered cotton pad around his eye, cleaning up the bits of red that have stained them.

he slightly winces, hoping you didn’t notice, “i’m fine, this isn’t my first rodeo,” he assures, sending you a wink before completely regretting the tiny action, a frown briskly replacing his smile, causing small chuckles to slip between your lips. 

“you know, you should really stop getting into fights, i could’ve sworn you had a black eye just a year ago,” you remember it like it was yesterday - steve harrington walking the halls of hawkins high without his two minions for the first time, looking like he had fallen off his throne as the hushed whispers grew louder until they finally made its way throughout the school in a matter of minutes. 

you could tell he wasn’t at all the person he was trying to be and for a second, you saw yourself in him. you wanted to get to know that steve. the steve that may understand you. but that second didn’t last long. 

“so you were watchin me?” he teases, a smirk on his lips resulting in a playful shove and an eye roll from you.

gently grabbing his chin, you stare straight into his eyes, “of course i was. you’re steve harrington,” you remind him, “everyone watches you,” stating the facts before letting go and going back to removing all the dried up blood from his pretty face. 

he clears his throat, shrugging his shoulders, playing it cool, “yeah, i guess you’re right,” he says dumbfoundedly, making you laugh. 

“you’re ridiculous,” you quietly comment, a smile still on your lips. steve focuses on your light touches, trying not to wince every time you get near his open wounds. you notice his knuckles going white, gripping the toilet seat he was sitting on and ever so gently, hurried your actions. 

“there, all clean,” you softly declare as you slip from his space, turning around and putting all mrs. byer’s first aid kit back into place. he quietly thanks you, leaning his head back a bit to rest, his eyes shutting for a second. 

“thanks, by the way,” you break the silence “for protecting me earlier… with billy and all the upside down things,” you explain, looking at steve through the mirror. he nods, not entirely sure he’s deserving of your gratitude. you protected him as much as he protected you. 

“is he always that violent with you?” steve asks, an eyebrow going up. 

you immediately shake your head,  “no, he’s never laid a hand on me, i don’t know what came over him,” you say honestly. 

“why billy hargrove?” he asks, causing you to pause your actions, paying attention to him.

“what do you mean?” you reply, turning around to face him once again, your back against the tiny kitchen sink. 

“well, you didn’t leave dustin alone even though you just started babysitting him today, you care about having seatbelts on, you immediately covered up for max and just now, you took care of me when you should be taking care of yourself,” he points out, “you’re responsible and kind and you care and, well, billy is just a huge dick,” he finished, a hand flailing in the air as you stare at him, stunned at his observations.

you compose your thoughts for a while, not at all ready to have a heart to heart with steve harrington in a bathroom. 

instead, you throw the question back at him, “why nancy wheeler?” 

“you cannot possibly be comparing billy to nancy,” he replies quickly, a disapproving tone laced in his voice.

“i’m not,” you say defensively, “i’m just saying, she hurt you too but you’re still with her, you-”

“i-i don’t know if we’re actually still together,” he sadly replies, cutting you off, eyes dropping to the floor and you think back to the woods earlier that night — nancy emerging with jonathan right by her side. 

“but you still love her,” you continue, “even though she’s hurt you, you still love her,” you finish, trying to make a point.

“so, you’re in love with billy?” he concludes.

you scoff, wanting to say yes and finally drop the subject but the mere thought of agreeing with that sentence makes you visibly wince. 

“god no, i’ve been on a couple dates with the guy, it’s far from love,” earning an even more confused steve to face you. 

“i don’t know if it’s because i got my brains punched out or i really am just dumb but i completely lost you there,” he admit, a tiny smile on his lips and all you could do is sigh. 

heart to heart talk it is. 

“you’re not dumb, i just-” taking a deep breath, you prepare yourself.

“we all have our own reasons why were with someone,” you begin, “i’m just so tired of the perfect good girl image that has been imposed on me, it's like people just see me as that and nothing else,” as soon as you start, the dam breaks, flowing. 

you find yourself entrusting your deepest thoughts to him, “i can’t be fun because good girls aren’t supposed to be, i go to parties and people are confused that i'm there. you know, i even joined the cheerleading team so people can see me as something more? but all that does is fuel the assumption that i can do everything and still get shit done...that im not capable of mistakes and bad decisions. that i’ll turn out to be something great when really i’m just so damn scared all the time,” your voice breaks but before he could comment, you cleared your throat and continued. 

“i guess being with him makes people finally see me out of my stereotype” you confess, waiting for him to say something. the silence becomes overbearing and you feel completely vulnerable under his gaze. 

“oh,” steve responds, before bursting into laughter and you feel like a complete idiot, eyebrows shifting downward. god, you’re so ready to dramatically walk out of this bathroom and slam the door against his face but before you could do that, he notices.

“hey wait,” he says, gently grabbing your arm, asking you to stay as he arranges his thoughts.

“i’m sorry, i’m just relieved that you’re not actually in love with him because you deserve a lot better than billy hargrove,” he says charmingly, his cool facade still on display. 

“i know,” you agree, stopping yourself from rolling your eyes, “is that all?” you ask, still annoyed. 

“yeah,” steve starts, “i-no,” you give him time. you know that he’s having a war in his mind right now, the same one you just had. 

he avoids your gaze, thinking to himself, until finally, he puts his defenses down, “i understand you,” he confesses. 

“if it makes you feel better, it’s not at all greener on this side, i wished people looked at me less, i wish i didn’t have to go to all these parties just for people to respect me,” steve rattled on, feeling the weight fall off his shoulders with every word that falls off his lips, his facade disappearing bit by bit.

“i completely gave up on school because everyone has already expected me to fail and i started to believe them…it’s tiring having to pretend i’m this ‘king’ steve,” he quotes, “when really i am spiraling and have no fucking clue what i even want in life...i’ll probably just end up having a stupid job i hate and being as bitter as my father,” he sadly chuckles.  

“i’m just as scared as you,” he ends with a small smile, eyes meeting yours. he feels lighter after having said it all out loud for the first time and he can’t quite comprehend how he feels so safe sharing his saddest truths with you. 

but as you cast him a kind smile, the words “fuck stereotypes,” making its way to his ears, he can’t help but be thankful for the spilled truths and ajar doors. 

steve mirrors your expression and you’re glad you finally got to meet him. not “playboy” steve harrington and definitely not steve “the king” harrington. 

just steve. 

-

next: yr. 1985

an: a lil bridgerton reference there hehe ... thank you for reading! let me know if you're interested in reading the other moments i had planned :)

feel free to inspire me by dropping your thoughts, comments, suggestions, etc. here <3

[beady-eyed-munson]

When eddie was little, wayne was the only one who could hold him without him crying or becoming restless.

Reaching out a grasping hand over his parents shoulder when theyd take him to leave.

When he learned how to walk, wayne used to have to stop and make him wait outside the bathroom because hed trail behind his legs like a shadow.

Wayne had to give him one of his flannels so he could sleep at night.

I think he knew... babies have a way of picking up on things like that..

Eddie was supposed to be his.

Eventually as life took hold, eddie saw wayne less and less.

He learned to exist by himself. not even really remembering wayne..but he always felt lost, til he was brought back to his door.

[broccolisoupy]

I have this Idea where the reader is Dustins older sister who works at the movie theatre in Starcourt mall and she meets Robin Buckley (who works at Scoops Ahoy duh) and they keep having this tension between them but none act upon it. Would anyone be interested to read it or is it wack because I barely see any Robin fics on here and now im doubting if anyone would like it. Let me know, kay byee!

[caxde]

drunken confession | steve harrington x reader

summary you're Dustin's older sister, a night out with you're friends makes you see that here might be more between you and Steve (7.5k)

warnings fem!reader, fluff (a lot), mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!!, mentions of alcohol use, tabacco and anxiety (briefly). and eventual smut (p in v, hj unproteccted) english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 

“So, are you going out tonight?” Dustin asked once again, making you center your attention on him, you stop daydreaming. 

“Um, I dunno. We’ll get some drinks, better if you don't wait up I think.” You answered, looking at him. Your brother always seemed like he had more to say, like there was always a puzzle, or an equation that he had to solve in the back of his mind. 

“You’re gonna have to talk to mom.” He scuffed, almost like a laugh. 

“What? Why?” Your eyebrows scratched as you asked, your shoulders got high, and so did your voice. 

“She’s not letting you the car again if you’re out drinking.” 

“Well, I’m not driving so…” You finished, letting the fork in your plate, the clinking of it ending the conversation briefly. 

It seemed like it was going to be a quiet night anyway. Just you, and your friends, nothing unusual. Though you still didn’t know if you’d be drinking in someone’s house or out out. 

Because those are two very different things. 

If you were in someone’s house, you’d be calm, the lights won’t annoy you, the music won’t be too loud, and there won’t be too many people. 

And you’d promised yourself that even if that happened, you weren’t going to overreact, because these things are normal, and it is okay. You're safe, in someone's house, and out in a club or bar. 

- 

Thankfully the bar was still empty when you arrived. 

And the first round of beers went down pretty quickly. 

So did the second one. 

Nancy was excited. You could tell she was really happy, finally having received her acceptance letter to the college of her dreams. She couldn’t stop blushing every time somebody new walked into the bar and said congratulations. 

Robin was as chatty as ever, as she normally was to be honest. You’d found out that Robin gets excited over other peoples’ excitement, and you often thought to yourself what a good cheerleader she would make if she wasn’t as clumsy as she is. 

Eddie was quiet. It wasn’t unusual, not this early in the evening. He always gets more comfortable once he gets used to the people that are wherever you guys end up, and once he realises that nobody looks at him like he’s a freak anymore, in fact, since Corroded Coffin was gaining a bit of a reputation people tried to get close to him, talk to him. He’d never say it, but he loved it. 

And, Steve. 

Well, he was just electric. Something happened whenever you two were in the same place. He’ll participate in whatever conversation is going on at the table, but for a moment, however brief, he’d look at you, and you swear time would stop. 

You didn’t know why that happened, you just enjoyed it. 

And it was happening right now, as you were finishing your second beer, and he was already asking for the third round, his hand up with the empty bottle, once the barman saw Steve, he putted five fingers up, Steve nodded. 

And as it always happened after two beers, you needed to go out, get some air and smoke. And as always, Eddie walked out with you. 

“You doing okay Henderson?” Eddie muttered as he offered you his lighter, smoke already escaping his lips as he talked. 

“Yeah, just thinking.” You answered quickly, just before lighting the camel you had in your pocket. 

“You need to stop doing all that thinking.” He laughed, trying -with no success- to make you at least chuckle. “You wanna talk about it?” 

“I think you already know if I’m being honest.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, pleading that he won’t make you actually say it. 

“For what it’s worth, I think he’s just as much in his head as you are.” He admitted, as he took one long drag of his cigarette, almost gone now. 

“You’re only saying that because you’re my friend.” You brush it off, not really ready to believe that he might be right, not wanting to believe him, in case he was actually right. 

“And I’m also his friend.” He added, looking into your eyes, a soft smile in his face, and something else that you can’t recognise now. “And honestly, you two… something’s going on, it’s not hard to see it.” 

“Nothing has happened. Nothing can anyway.” You add, as you throw your cigarette to the floor, stomping on it so it’s definitely put out. 

“Why would you say that?” Eddie asks, his eyebrows raised, curiosity filling his voice. 

“Because he still likes Nancy.” 

-

Everyone had paid for one round. And you were now debating if you should go home or stay for a little longer. 

Nancy wanted to leave, and so did Robin. 

Eddie didn’t mind.

Steve wanted to stay. 

And you weren’t sure why but so did you. 

So, the table only had three new beers now, and a louder conversation. 

The bar had filled up, and the music was louder now. So of course you needed to scream a bit to hear each other. Again you weren’t really talking about anything important, just enjoying the company they provided, and the warmth that you felt being in a space with your favourite people. 

“Edds, I’m going out for a smoke break, wanna come?” You asked softly, the yellow packet already on your hand, trying not to feel nervous as you feel Steve looking deep into your eyes. 

“Um, not really… I really need to take a piss.” He laughs a bit more than necessary, the alcohol finally taking him over. 

“I’ll come.” Steve's voice finally could be heard. That stupid smile in his lips anytime he gets to spend quiet time with you. 

“Come on.” You smiled shyly as you stood up, a bit too fast, feeling the alcohol all at once once you finally were out of your chair. 

The cold air was the first thing that you felt, hitting you right in the middle of your chest, though you did not feel its coldness, at least not now. Not when he was right there beside you.

You’ll deny it every time somebody asks, but the way he lights the cigarette was hypnotizing. 

His long fingers curving to stop the wind from blowing away the flame, his lips holding it tightly, his eyes looking down carefully so that he does not burn himself. And just the way his nose and parted lips would shine in a soft orange light once the flame was ignited, it made him look both peaceful and angelic. But honestly, that wasn’t the best part. 

The best part of his little ritual came when he’d scooch over you, his face still -even if it was soft enough that he wouldn't notice- scrunched up, concentrating so that the flame wouldn’t disappear. His hands covering the end of your cigarette now, and he would look at you attentively, holding the lighter until smoke came out of your lips. 

You didn’t pay attention to him in that moment -you never could if you didn’t wanna burn yourself- but if you did you’d see the way his eyes couldn’t stay away from the way your lips look. 

And then, he’d always say and do the same thing. 

First, he takes a step back, so he’s not actually so close to you in case it would annoy you, but his feet would stay pointed at you, just like his attention was fully with you, and the way you look up at him. her and her dove eyes. He thinks he could see them even if he closes his eyes. 

Then his free hand would travel to the top of his head, retouching his hair once again, he does that right before he tilted his head to the left.

Then he always asks the same thing. 

“So, how are you doing?” 

And you’d always say the same thing. 

“Good, I’m doing good.” 

But really, you wanted to say. 

“I’m always good when I’m with you.” 

But it didn’t matter how much you'd drink, you never find the courage. 

But for some reason, today, after he asked you how you were doing he kept talking. 

“I’m not gonna lie to you Henderson, I’m getting pretty drunk today.” And he laughed. I could listen that laugh forever, you kept thinking. Though you didn’t need to say it, he knew it as soon as you smiled up at him and bite your lower lips as you looked at him. 

It drove him mad. 

“Honestly?” You asked as he kept laughing. He nodded and scratched the bridge of his nose with his thumb, cigarette still in his hand. “I’m getting drunk too.”

“Can I tell you something else?” He demanded, his eyebrows raising for just a second, your cheeks starting to hurt from just how much you were smiling. As soon as you nodded he lowered his head, and his voice. “It’s a really stupid thing.” He added, his words slurring a bit. 

“It’s never stupid if you say it.” You say back. It always happened, when you were drunk you could not lie, and with that, you’d say things more sincerely, calmer and softer. Even more when Steve was the one listening to them. 

“You look really pretty today.” 

You were expecting everything but that. Your face lighted up, your eyes shined brighter and you didn’t even know your smile could grow wider. You shook your head and scoffed. A friendly and shocked reaction over such sincerity. 

“You’re an idiot.” It’s the only thing you managed to say back. 

But he knew you were happy. Just as much as he knew his heart had skipped a beat as soon as he saw your eyes squint for a second. It was becoming impossible to act normal around you, he realised. 

You stayed there, under the cold starry sky, not saying anything, and it didn’t matter. You didn’t need to. 

Once you finished smoking in such a comfortable silence it was hard to go back inside, but even if you wanted to stay in that quiet moment, you headed back, only to find Eddie deep in a conversation with a girl you didn’t know. 

Well, it wasn’t really a conversation, more so he had his arm around her waist and was following her out. 

Steve laughed in shock first, after looking at you. 

“Guess that means we’ll have to drink his beer.” You add in a chuckle. 

- 

Your body was all warm and fuzzy. You weren’t going to drink anymore. 

But Steve seemed to keep going, you weren’t sure why, probably just the habit, oblivious to you, it was to calm his nervous thoughts. 

The bar was about to close, and that meant that it was getting quiet again, no need to scream anymore. 

“Your ears get red when you’ve had enough to drink.” You point out touching the tips of Steve’s ears, brushing his hair behind them. You were giggly and touchy, even more so now that no rational thought was in your brain. 

“Well… so does your nose.” He replays back, his eyes softer, as he lets his index finger touch the tip of your nose. “bub.” He adds. You’re not sure if he says it as a reaction to touching it or as a pet name, but you don’t care either way. 

“You’re wasted Harrington.” You giggle as you say his last name, your hands travelling down his neck, into his chest, falling clumsy -but softly- into his lap. He loses his breath for a second as he lets himself enjoy the way your skin feels against his. 

“Like father, like son, right?” He half jokes as he raises the beer he still is working on finishing. 

“What?” You shake your head at him. “No, no way. You look just like your mom.” You add. Your voice feels like a soft song to him at that moment. People never tell him that he looks like his mom, even if he always wanted that. 

“You’re the first person to say that, y’know” He confesses, his hand now resting on his hand, his eyes looking deep into yours. 

“Well… It’s true. Your mom’s beautiful, and so are you.” Your cheeks go red as soon as you realize what you just said. Though you mean every word of it. 

“You think I’m beautiful?” He asks, for a second it seems like he’s mocking you, but you know him well enough to know that he’s just shocked at the way you say things, so truthfully, so honestly. You always have the ability to leave him speechless. 

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” You sound more sure of yourself now, as you snatch a little beer from his bottle, he looks at you with his eyebrows raised, surprised and in absolute awe of you. 

“Not handsome?” You shake your head no as you giggle a bit at him, “Beautifull” He elongates the last L, a grin appearing on his lips. 

That stupid Steve grin. 

“Beautiful people are soft and kind. Not just on the outside, but all of them. That’s you.” His whole expression softened, even more if it was possible. His eyes were a pool of honey and coffee, and they could not stop looking at you, with pure adoration. 

“You’re the one being an idiot now.” 

You giggled as you felt the last sip travel down your throat, you nodded before looking back at him. 

“They’re closing, we should go.” You point out once you see the lights of the bar light up. The universal sign that the night had come to an end. 

-

The ride home was always fun, and worth remembering, every single one. 

This one however, was special. 

Your hand rested on the back of his head, playing with his hair lazily, not really thinking about it. It felt nice, and it was the closest you could be to him. 

That’s what you thought anyway.

What you didn’t expect was Steve deciding to let his hand rest on top of your thigh, not striking it, not squeezing it, it just rested there. His thumb drew a repetitive pattern, a kind of gesture that to you meant I’m here, but to him it screamed I don’t wanna leave.

Once he stopped the car in front of your house, he whipped around to look at you. Once again, he said nothing. He just looked at you. You knew what Robin would say if he saw that, probably something like stop admiring at each other and go to bed, please?. Eddie would probably just laugh and give you a little shove. But right now, the only thing that escaped your lips (that might be trembling because of your nervous heart, or maybe it was because his hand was still in your thigh, and yours was still on the back of his neck) was a soft “Thank you” And he just shook his head, a its nothing gesture. 

Though you weren’t ready for him to get out of his car once you were already on the steps of your house. 

“You okay Steve?” You asked as you saw him approaching. 

He didn’t say anything. 

He just hugged you. 

It had never felt like this. His hands holding you closer than ever, his head resting on the nape of your neck. Of course you returned the feeling, holding him thigh, not wanting to let go. Your head rested on his chest, and you could smell every inch of him. Aftershave, a deep cologne, the beer that you had drank and cigarette smoke. You closed your eyes for a second, trying to memorise how it all felt, how his respiration slowed for that moment, how he took a deep breath before letting you go and how he looked down at you, his honey eyes shining. His cheeks a bit flustered, and you're guessing that yours are too. 

“Yeah. Good night honey.” 

honeyhoneyhoney. 

-

“It would just be a quick drop, you wouldn’t even be five minutes late I swear!” Dustin whined again. He knew he was getting you annoyed, and frustrated, he could tell by the way your eyebrows were scrunched up and your nails were getting buried into your waist, holding tight onto something so you wouldn’t snap at him. 

“It’s not about dropping you off, it’s just…” You always had trouble communicating when you were like this, when your thoughts were going faster than your actions, when you got overwhelmed by things that nobody seemed to get overwhelmed by. “I’m supposed to go to Edds show, and I really don’t want to be late, because if I am, I might not find them and then that would mean I-”

“They’ll wait for you.” He looked down at the floor, his hands had his fingers intertwined, the same anxious tick you had, it looks like he inherited that too. “Please? Will goes back to California in a couple days and we really want to finish his campaign.”

You nodded, you understood the need to see someone, a friend. You know how much Dustin misses Will when he’s not around. He nodded back, and he sat on top of your bed. Happy. Calm, not pushing your buttons anymore. 

“So… Who’s going?” 

“Where?”

“To Eddie’s show.” He gestured with his hands, a weird look in his face that you had no time to get into. 

“Um, Robin and Steve.” You add back, your voice a bit higher in pitch, turning your back so you can look into your closet, hoping to find something that might work. Your indecision -you often think- is the worst thing that happens to you. “Nancy was supposed to come but she said something came up, so…”

“She didn’t tell you?” The tone of his voice made you turn fast to him, a shocked honesty that makes you wonder. 

“Tell me what?”

“Her and Jonathan got back together.” 

“Oh.” oh. “How do you know?” Your ears were ringing, poor Steve you thought. Poor heart-broken Steve, the only thing you ever wanted for him was for him to be happy, it didn’t matter with who, as long as he actually loved the person and was loved in return. 

“Steve told me.” Even if your little brother’s voice was calm, he was still looking at you with that same look. The one he uses when he’s trying to gather information, seeking a reaction, and if you were being honest, he was getting one. 

“Is Steve okay?” You needed to know, because right now it was all you could think about, about the kind boy that deserves to be loved, even if it can’t be by you. 

“You’re kidding? He helped Jonathan get her back!” That confused you even further, why would Steve help him get the girl he’s in love, get together with someone else. You turned back and started grabbing different tops and shirts and laying them above the bed. 

“Why would he do that? Isn’t he like, in love with Nance?” The way he started laughing made your shoulders tense for a second, jumping at such a reaction. “What are you laughing for?”

“He’s not in love with her! Jesus, you can be blind sometimes…” The palm of his face brushes his face as he looks at you, a puzzled look still on yours. 

“I don’t know what you’re on kid, but I need to get ready and have no clue what to actually wear so…” He picked up the white tank top and threw it to you. 

“You’re an idiot sometimes, you know that?” Dustins i’m much clever than you tone came back as he stood up. You rolled your eyes at him and gave him a petty smile. 

“Yeah, I’ve been told.” 

-

As you parked outside where Eddie was playing, a few minutes late, you grew nervous. The parking lot was full of cars, and finding a spot took longer than you anticipated, so by the time you found a spot and got to the entrance, the queue only seemed longer and longer. People standing in a not-so-neat line, chatting amongst themselves, shivering away the coldness of the night. Cigarette smoke and off-key lyrics filled the ambient of the people pulled away. 

You realise at that moment, you didn’t have a ticket. 

Steve and Robin had gotten in with Eddie. 

And you had no idea how to get in, so you took a quick lap to see if you found someone, anyone. 

Thankfully for you, Steve was by the entrance door, chatting away with one of the security guys. Even if Steve was tall, and had a wide back, the man talking to him toward over him, it almost made you giggle, seeing him as someone smaller, when he usually was the one that filled the room, even with just his presence. 

As you walked to him, smoke escaping your lips and a scent of burnt smoke following you, you remembered the conversation you had with Dustin. And still, you didn’t believe him, at least not until you saw the way his demeanor changed when you approached him, and a relieved “Steve” came out of you. 

Steve lost his breath for a moment. 

You looked truly angelic, and you didn’t even need to try. You in that white tank top that made your breasts appear larger, more exposed than they’re usually are, your hair down, letting the left side of your neck free, as the wind blew, and your jeans hugging every curve of your body. It drove him mad. Even worse, he always loved when you wore red lipstick, like tonight. 

Of course he wasn’t in love with anyone but you. 

But you didn’t know. 

The same way he didn’t know just how much it drove you crazy when his shirts hugged his arms like that, his veins more prominent when his arms were crossed on his chest. His hair always seemed to float, like it had a gravity of his own, but that single strand of hair that felt in between his eyes made you focus on him more. His soft honey dark eyes that were only looking at you, half lidded and full of adoration. It drove you crazy.

Of course you weren’t in love with anyone but him. 

But he didn’t know. 

Just like you had thought until a few hours ago that he still loved, or liked Nancy, it wasn’t until he had picked up Robin a few minutes ago that he didn’t find out that what you had with Eddie was purely platonic. Robin had laughed just as much as Dustin did, and called him an idiot all the same. But still, you both thought that your feelings weren’t returned, because that would be too perfect to be real. Impossible, just a dream. 

However, the way your name sounded when Steve said it made you forget about everything else, and just focus on him. 

A quick hug, not like the one he had given you that night he had driven you the night after you’d spent your entire night in a bar. You had come to realise, he became braver once some time had passed, and so did you. 

So you headed inside, where Robin was waiting for the both of you in the bar, a warm welcome and a big cheers with some beers that you grabbed as you moved further into the pit. 

The crowd was electric, everyone cheering for the show to start, eager to sing along with the band. You followed along, screamed when Corroded Coffin finally came on stage, whoo’d Eddie when he asked How are you doing Indianapolis and laughed when he admitted that he missed saying how are you Hawkins. 

Robin cheered the loudest and it made Steve laugh. One of those authentic, closing your eyes and holding your stomach kind of laughs. You thought that it was one of the highlights of the night already. 

But as these things often go, once Eddie’s band was over, and the next one came, the bar got even more crowded, and the lights felt brighter, and everyone seemed to be looking at you, judging or god knows what. Everyone seemed to bump into you, and you had already pulled the glue out of your empty cristal bottle on both sides. Breathing was becoming a hard task, and so did hearing anything that was being said to you. 

“Honey” You heard Steve as soon as you felt his warm hand on your shoulder. You looked up to him, a haze in your eyes.”Are you okay?” He halved screamed into your ear, his breath lingering into your skin. 

You pull him closer for a moment, afraid he might not listen. 

“Too many people.” You’re not sure if he could hear you, or what he could do. You try even harder to relax your breathing, to stop looking around. But it all ends when you feel his fingers intertwined with yours. 

You look up to him, he just nods to Robin who nods back at him, and he starts walking to the back of the pit, the lights seem to not burn anymore, and the people are few and far between. He just stays there, with you for a second before he opens his mouth. Looking at you and the way your eyes are scanning every single person in the room, looking for something that you don’t know what is.

“Honey?” There it is again, the soft worried Steve voice, his attention only on you. 

You look back at him, as you feel his hand grabbing yours thighter. He’s the only thing you’re looking at now. 

“Do you need to get out? Get some air?” He knows you won’t actually answer, but takes the nodding that you do as a clear enough sign. 

The creaking of the door and the friendly doorman brings you back down to earth, and so does the wind hitting your chest. 

“Better?” He asks again, desperate for some sort of confirmation from you. 

“Yeah, I just- Sorry…” You sort of mumble, more to yourself than to him. 

In that moment you realise that your hands are still tangled together, and the blood rushes to your cheeks as soon as you look down at them. They fit together so naturally, you think. Like a missing piece of a puzzle. 

“Don’t apologize. We’ll stay here as long as you need, ‘s fine.” You instinctively bite the inside of your cheek as you nod at him, a soft smile, a thank you of sort appears on your face, as does a grin on his. 

Without letting go of you, he reaches down into his jeans front pocket, and takes out a box of Camel, offering you to take one. Smoking might be bad for your lungs, but it does help with regulating your breathing, and he knew that’s just what you needed, and honestly, you were craving one, so you nodded again, searching for a lighter with the cigarette already in between your lips. Before you even find it, you feel the warmth of fire close to your mouth, and you just inhale the smoke. 

“Thank you…” He shakes his head, as he inches closer to you, the same strand of hair falling between his eyes again. 

“There’s no need for that.” He whispers, his words just as sweet as he is. His free hand pushes your hair behind your ear, and falls slowly to the nape of your neck, letting it rest there for just a second, his thumb stroking the end of your jaw in soft short motions, holding you up so you look at him, your doe eyes looking deep into his, he swears he could melt right here and there. You were driving him crazier everyday with the way you looked at him. 

For a second there, he thinks you might even love him back. 

“I just don’t know why I get like that, when there’s so many… I dunno” you scoff off, as your shoulders shrug ever so slightly, enough for him to catch, enough for your hair to move again and let the smell of your shampoo reach him. “I’m okay, don’t worry.” You say with a smile. 

He looks deep into his eyes, looking for any sign that you might be lying, he doesn’t find any. And he likes to think that you’re better because of him. It's funny how right he is. 

“We can stay here as long as you need.” Steve reasures you once again, getting closer again. Your body and his only a push away from touching. 

“You’re always so sweet to me.” You’re thinking out loud now, you bite your lower lip as soon as you see him mask his blush with a soft chuckle, as his grin deepens, and you stop for a second to look at his pretty pink lips. You even let yourself imagine what it would be like to kiss them. 

Steve debates what to do next. He knows you’re not lying, he knows that you’re being sincere and truthful. He can tell by the way your eyes are half lidded, looking at him like you’re in the safest space possible -even when you’re actually outside downtown Indianapolis- so in the end, he just wraps his arms around you. And he holds you even tighter when he feels you wrapping your arms behind his neck, and the way you stand on your tiptoes so you can hold him closer, your leg between his, his hands playing with the ends of your air. He breathes you in, intoxicating himself with the way you smell. You’re worried he’ll feel just how fast your heart is beating. But you’re too occupied smiling deeply and sincerely. 

He feels safe. 

Yes, there might be some butterflies, but they’re not nervous ones, it’s all just calmness. Love even. 

-

He ends up paying for your drinks, and you spend the night dancing at the back of the pit with Robin and eventually Eddie joins you. You laugh, and dance around, sing the songs off key with Robin making Eddie laugh as he joins you. Admiring the way Steve covers his face embarrassed, that the idiots causing the whole club to cheer you on as you move are indeed his friends. But what makes you have the deepest smile is everytime you catch Steve eyes, thay always seem to be on you. He even dances with you a couple times when Robin or Eddie go away to the bathroom or to grab more drinks. 

You don’t care because he is here and everything feels right. 

But the night was coming to an end, and you still were buzzing with energy. 

Even outside, where the cold wind wrapped around you you were still singing and dancing until Eddie started speaking. 

“Steve, can I take your car?” He asks, and it makes you all turn around and look at him. 

“What for? Where’s your van?” Robin followed, her voice raised a little too loud. 

“I think Gareth might have taken it.” Eddie explains as he points at his van driving away, with Gareth in the driver’s seat. You can’t help but laugh a bit, stopping slowly as you feel Steve laying his arm around your shoulders, you let yourself think of it as an embrace. Or maybe he was just cold. 

“Who’ll drive me home?” He mutters as he searches for the keys in his pocket. 

“I’ll drive you.” You say, looking up at him. Steve’s eyes shine brighter, with that look. A look you have only seen in him once before, long ago. 

“Sure.” He mutters, a grin in his face. “You won’t kill us?” He jokes as he pushes some hair away from your face with the hand that rests right where your neck meets your shoulder.

“I’ll come with you” Robin mumbles as she approaches Eddie, her eyebrows raised. 

Steve knows that if Robin could talk to him now she would plead with him, to actually make a move. He decides that she’s right. 

“Alright, let’s get home.” Eddie winks at you, a look that begs you to be careful. He grabs the keys that Steve throws him, the jingle of them making you realise that this was actually happening. 

You blame it on the alcohol. But you have to admit that holding his waist was something you have wanted to do for so long its feels fucking angelic once your fingers touch his skin, under his shirt, right above the seam of his jeans. 

Steve chews gum when he’s nervous, and the minty flavor, or maybe the amount of beer inside his system makes him say the most stupid thing ever. 

“Do you like gum?” 

“Yeah” 

“You want some?” 

“Sure.” You stop, expecting him to reach down his pocket and grab the small packet. You part your lips open expecting him to do so. Instead, Steve in a bold move opens his mouth and pulls you closer. 

Before you can even process what he’s doing, his thumb reaches your jaw, opening your mouth a bit more for you, and you see the way his tongue places the minty gum on your lips. You had closed your eyes. Thinking he was going to do something else. 

It had made you nervous and weak all the same. You can’t help but think, as you take a few steps, your hand holding even tighter onto him, that was one of the hottest things you had ever seen. 

It got better. 

After a few steps he talked again. His voice sultier, deeper. His eyes somehow were darker, but still looked like they were full of adoration for you. 

“Does that gum still have some taste on it?” 

“Yeah, minty” You manage to say. 

“Can I have some?” 

This time around, it's you who grabs him. And you can feel the way he smiles at that, and the way his fingers hold your face up again to meet him. This time it’s you who gives him the gum back. 

Only, you place it between your lips, and it's his tongue that gets it. 

In that moment you know, you’re fucked. 

And so does he. 

-

“Honey?” He asks as he sees you pulling into his street. 

The whole drive back home had been exactly like the last time. Except this time the way he would caress your leg felt hungry for your touch back, and your fingers would end up intertwined, singing the songs that came into the radio, not really paying attention, all of it focused on the way he was playing with your fingers. 

“Mmmh?” 

“My car keys may have been chained to my house keys.” He admits, embarrassed, as he covers his face. You can’t help but look at him and laugh a bit. 

“S’okay, you can sleepover.” He nods and you change directions. 

And before you know it you’re already parked, and he’s already following you inside. 

That’s when it hits you. 

Steve is in your room. 

Steve is sleeping over in your bed. 

Steve had practically kissed you. 

whatthehellisgoingon

You shake your head, not wanting to read too much into things that haven’t and might never happen. 

“I uh… I’m going to change.” You whisper, a bit of shame could be felt on your words, and Steve just nodded, lost in the sight that was you in your room. “Do you need anything?” 

“No, I… Usually just sleep with my boxers on.” That confession made you blush and bite your lower lip as you nodded. Not really knowing what to do or say. 

So you just turned around, you took off your bra, tossing it on the floor before you took off the white tank you had. You reached for your sleep shirt. An old grey shirt that was way overdue to throw away, but it was long enough and soft enough that you felt it was perfect for sleeping in. So, Steve just enjoyed the show. 

He stayed there, watching the way your body moved. He was the one that had his eyebrows raised, his chest racing and his cheeks flushed. He was lost in you. And you were painfully obvious that he was looking, maybe that’s why you take a bit longer to take off your tank top before putting on the gray shirt. Maybe that's why your heart skips a beat when you hear the sound of his belt hitting the ground at the same time that his jeans did. While you took your own jeans off, he took off his shirt. 

You knew you had to turn around now. 

And as you did you go lost in him. 

Him standing there, in nothing but his black boxers, framing all of him. Him and his chest with some hair, trailing all the way down to his waistband. That was an image you probably would never be able to forget. 

He took the first step. A soft grin appears in his lips once again. As he pushes the same flock of hair behind your ear, you can't help but tilt your head into his touch. He takes another step forwards, and just looks at you, deep into your eyes. You both chuckle, nervously at the situation, and like before, he holds you. Thight. Only this time, you can feel him against your leg. It makes you press your own legs together a bit more. 

Once he lets go, you slide into the bed, and he closes the lights, following you closely. 

“Is it okay if you hug me?” You ask. 

“Mmh.” He’s at a loss for words. 

He cuddles you, feeling you closer than ever before. And one of his hands gets lost into your thigh, right where your waistband meets your skin, tracing it. Softly. It drives you insane. Steve’s breathing into your hair, and you can feel how his breathing is fastening, just as much he can feel yours, by the way your stomach goes up and down. He can’t help himself anymore. He leaves a wet kiss on your neck. 

That’s all it takes. 

You turn around and you know you’re fucked. You can’t hold yourself anymore. You explote. 

You kiss him. 

The way his lips press against yours feels like he really wanted this, maybe even as much as you did. Your body pulls him closer, and his leg finds itself tangled in between yours. He’s lost in you and the way your mouth feels. He bites your lower lip, softly. And as soon as you feel the tug a soft whimper escapes your lips. Steve melts into you even more, his legs putting pressure in that spot between your legs that is already throbbing for him. Your hands find the back of his neck, and become buried into his hair. His soft chestnut hair. His hands begin to train up, inside your shirt. Holding your waist harder than before. Another moan escapes your kiss swollen lips, and he grunts in return. 

He tries to memorise you, and the way you look like now. To him, you’re a goddess fallen from the sky, and he’s the lucky one. 

He climbs above you, tracing kisses down your neck, as his hands travel up, up enough to meet your breast and press down, even carefully he’s strong enough and skilled enough to pinch your nipples, making them hard. And your legs wrap around him, and you can’t quite believe just how big he’s gotten just from kissing you. 

His hands take off your shirt and as soon as he looks at you he’s a goner. 

“Fuck, you’re beautifull honey.” He groans. A deep voice you’ve never heard from him. 

It makes you pull him closer. And he starts to move, his cock and your clit being only separated by the small fabric between you both. 

“Can I-” He cuts you off as he looks up at you, stopping the trail of kisses he wanted to finish on your left breast. 

“You can do anything you want to me honey” 

You can’t help yourself. The wetness patch only growing on your thong. You needed him, but you were so desperate to touch him, to see him. 

You flipped him around, leaving him laid on your mattress, his hands up in shock. He’s surprised by you in the best way possible. 

You were the one kissing him senseless now, as you grind on top of him. HE grew harder and stiffer with every time your clit pressed against him. His hands grabbed your ass in that moment, hard and burying his fingers as deep as he could. You wasted no time kissing every beauty mark that you could see, slowly going down his stomach, his breath shortening, sucking in and groaning your name in the most delicious way you have never heard anyone say it. 

Your hands found the hem of his underwear and pulled it down. He was so big. His pink tip already wet with pre-cum, and it was all because and for you. Your eyes widened with desire, you had to taste him. 

So you did. 

It only took a lick for Steve to shiver, and that made nothing but turn you on even more. His hand had now started to press on your clit through the fabric. It didn’t matter, it felt too good. 

So, as you looked deep into his eyes, you wrapped your lips around him, and you went down. 

Steve had never been more desperate, the eye contact, you and your pretty doe eyes looking at him like he was the only thing in the world. 

His fingers had pushed your thong to your side, and started messing around your entrance, it wasn’t until his waist flinched forward, making you swallow him whole, that he didn’t actually finger you. 

But once he did, he couldn’t stop, and neither could you. 

The way you moaned, with him still inside you, the way your waist moved, letting him get more aces into you, it drove him mad, he needed you, like really needed you. 

“Steve, please” You begged. 

That’s all it took. 

His hands took off your thong and pulled you up, he kissed you deeply, his tongue getting lost with yours. Your soft lips fit perfectly with his, and the wetness of his cock still in them. 

He was above you again. Three fingers in, your legs already up, he had you prepared you enough for him to enter, but anyway, when you felt the way his cock slided into you, your walls tensed up for a second, and you both moaned as soon as you felt each other. 

“God, you feel so nice honey” He whispered into your ear before biting it. 

Your legs wrapped around him, tightly, and your hands were on his back, pushing him deeper. He wanted to go slow, but seeing you so helpless, so needy for him, made him pick up the pace. With every thrust, your eyes rolled deeper into your head, your muscles relaxed, and your feet were pointed. 

The warmth of his skin felt so good against yours you felt as if it would never be enough, even if you wanted to scream his name, you couldn’t. Everyone was sleeping. So you did the only thing you could.

“I’ve wanted you for so long Steve '' You whispered into his ears in between thrusts. You felt how his head hangs lower after that, his back arched so he could reach even lower. And when you thought he was as deep as he could, he placed an arm behind you, reaching that place that even you couldn’t. 

“So have I honey.” He admitted before kissing you, a deep, wet kiss. Followed by many more repressed moans and loud groans. “I’m all yours.” 

“I’m all yours” You repeated. 

He grabbed your leg and pushed it up, he was so deep now you could feel him everywhere. You were lost in him. The way his hair bounced, the way his eyes looked at you, his lips swollen because he couldn’t and wouldn’t stop kissing you. 

He was a goner. And so were you. 

You hadn’t come this hard in so long. 

You melted into eachothers arms. 

You had a silent moment, where it was all soft kisses and caresses. You couldn’t quite believe that that had just happened. 

Or how good it had been. 

“I meant it.” You heard him whisper, his lips pressed against your ear. 

“What?” 

“I’m all yours.” He repeats. Leaving a kiss in your hair. “I’ve always been.”

“I mean it too.” You let him know, your nose brushing his, your fingers tangled with his. “I’ve liked you for so long, my love.” 

He laughs a bit. Maybe it was the confession he had just got out of you, maybe it was because you had just called him my love. 

“God, me too.” He finally admits, a weight being pulled away from his chest. “But I thought you had a thing for Eddie.” 

“And I thought you still loved-” He shuts you up with a kiss. 

“We broke up because I was falling for you.” He finally admits. 

You can’t stop smiling or kissing. 

You don’t think you ever will. 

-

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3

requests are open

[lovebugism]

Hiii can i request shy reader whos anxious about different things? I have weird anxiety lol that makes it hard for me to eat in front of people until im comfortable around them. Can i request reader x Steve who have been dating for a while and she tries to avoid eating around him, but she finally gets comfortable and Steve is just so happy, thank you!!

hope you like it angel :D — steve takes care of his anxious gf at a family barbecue (established relationship, hurt/comfort ish, cw for mentions of anxiety and unexplained issues with food | 1.1k)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

The picnic table in Steve’s backyard is hardly big enough for all of you. Even when Max and El agree to lay out on a blanket together some feet away — and when Lucas and Erica spontaneously decide to race each other to the pool — it’s still an achingly tight fit. 

You, in particular, are sandwiched between two bodies much larger than yours. Eddie sits to your right, lacking any real concept of personal space, and Steve is off to your left. The latter keeps a strong arm around your back, hugging you closer to his chest every time the wild-haired boy accidentally knocks into you.

“Okay, me and Nance are getting something to eat,” Robin announces, standing suddenly from the table, visibly overstimulated from the constant conversation. Her eyes flit to your cowering form and then to Steve’s protective one. “You guys have fun with… this.”

It takes all of ten seconds for the others to follow behind them. Dustin and Eddie file through the Harrington family barbecue together, filling their decorative paper plates like they’re at an actual buffet. Mike and Will walk on pale, lanky legs around the yard — stopping once to talk to Max and El, then again by the pool with Lucas and Erica.

You and Steve are the only ones still sitting, but he hugs you to him like you aren’t. 

You can feel the early summer breeze on your skin now, without the crowd of teenagers suffocating you. You can hear the whispering wind, and the gentle humming of his pool, and the sounds of quieter conversation in the distance. You can breathe again. Almost. Still slightly strangled by a distant worry that Steve can read from here.

“Are you hungry?” he wonders cautiously, ‘cause he knows how you are about food. You haven’t let him in on the extent of it yet, but he knows it’s there, so he’s obscenely patient with you accordingly.

You glance once over your shoulder — at the tables of grilled meat and food cooked with love. Your stomach rolls with a distant ache, an empty one. You turn back to Steve and shrink under the weight of his honey-eyed stare. “Um… Kinda,” you confess in a mousy voice, shifting on the wooden bench.

His eyes widen in a soft look of surprise. You usually take a little more coaxing than that. 

“Want me to make you a plate?” he offers, squeezing your shoulder with a gentle hand. His pink lips quirk in a sympathetic smile. “We can take it up to my room if you want— get away from all these freaks.”

Your chest warms at his efforts to accommodate you. The way he loves you makes you brave. 

“That’s okay,” you shrug, trying to be cool even though your voice trembles. “We can... We can stay down here.”

Steve’s chest swells with pride. It bubbles up like sunshine until he’s beaming with it. 

It took you months to feel comfortable enough to eat in front of just him. And here you are now, utterly adored and finally brave enough to eat with all the rest of his shithead friends around.

“Yeah?” he hums, still smiling.

“Yeah,” you nod, gaze averted to your hands, which are wringing something fierce in your lap. You force a small laugh. “But it wouldn’t be, like, totally lame if I asked you to come with me, would it?”

Steve scoffs. “Like you even have to. I’m not let you get to the corndogs before me,” he jokes and rises from the creaking bench. “We’ll be lucky if Robin and Henderson don’t eat ‘em all first.”

He gets you laughing so you don’t think twice about meandering across the yard with him — about the eyes that are or are not watching you, or the weird way you are or are not walking. 

And because he keeps you laughing (and largely unthinking), you end up stacking your plate with more food than Steve’s ever seen you eat in public before. He almost mentions it. Almost. But he opts to keep his pride to himself, instead, lest he ruin the moment.

You return to the picnic table with all his friends, noticeably less anxious about being so squished together than before. 

And maybe it’s because Dustin and Eddie can’t eat anything without being sloppy — or maybe it’s because Will’s keeping you distracted with talks of his newest D&D campaign — but you down your food with more ease than Steve’s ever seen from you. Unworried about the crumbs sticking to your fingers and the very corner of your mouth. Completely and utterly comfortable here with him, and with everyone else around you.

The sight makes his heart swell. 

It’s like he’s falling in love with you all over again.

He catches you alone for the first time when you’re tossing empty plates. It’s not exactly the most ideal spot to steal a kiss from you — by the deck, next to the garbage bins — but it’s the first either of you have been out of sight from prying eyes all day. 

So, Steve takes the opportunity and grabs it. Literally. He cradles your wrist in a gentle hand and ushers you closer towards him. Your feet stumble in the tall grass. The tip of his nose brushes the bridge of yours, and you flinch. 

“I taste like cheeseburger,” you laugh.

“I don’t care,” Steve shrugs, face screwed, visibly mourning your mouth. “I taste like barbecue. Who gives a shit?”

He ducks down to kiss you again. And this time, you let him. 

He kisses you harder than you anticipated — a long and languid peck that takes your breath away. He tastes faintly of all the food he’d eaten before, something savory and strawberry sweet. It leaves you dizzy when he pulls away, lips smacking softly as they part.

“What was that for?” you wonder breathlessly a moment later.

Steve bounces his shoulder in a lazy shrug. His kissed lips quirk in a lopsided smile. “Nothin’. I’m just… I’m just proud of you, I guess.”

He doesn’t elaborate any further. He doesn’t have to. You cower at the notion of being perceived and scrunch your nose in disdain. “For being a normal person?” you joke with a cynical scoff. “For once?”

“No. For doing something that was hard for you,” Steve argues, still smiling. His hands rest warm and wide on the outside of your elbows. His thumbs rub softly along the skin there. “And for lookin’ real cute while you were doing it, too.”

You squint, trying hard not to smile at his smiling. 

“Stop flirting with me,” you grouse.

The boy’s pink lips jut in a playful pout. “But why?” he whines. “That’s, like, my favorite pastime.”

[love-hs28]

I hope you're ready to lose, Harrington.

Summary: A competitive game of beer pong with Steve leads you to become a bit drunk, but the best kind; giggly, playful, and flirty. And Steve, of course, knows exactly how to take care of you when this happens. CW: Alcohol 1.5k Words fem!reader - ("pretty girl" is used) Henderson!reader - doesn't impact the story Sweet, sweet fluff & comfort Posted on: 5-27-24

It’s Friday night and, per usual, you and Steve are at a party. Nancy and Johnathan came with you guys too, and you had all gotten ready at your house (despite Dustin’s complaints). Steve is in the living room with a few of his old friends and the rest of you are in the kitchen getting drink refills. You and Nancy are having a conversation with one of your friends from class and Johnathan is opening a new bag of chips for you guys (because everybody knows you should never take chips from the open chip bowl). You’re sipping your drinks and laughing with the conversation as the music is blasting in the background.

A minute or two into the conversation, you feel a pair of arms wrap around you and someone sweetly kiss your neck. A smile immediately appears on your face and you twist around to see Steve grinning down at you. His hands rub up and down your waist and he leans in for a kiss as he pulls you closer into him. 

“Hey pretty girl,” he whispers before his lips touch yours, and you giggle into the soft kiss. It’s short but sweet; exactly what you needed right now. Your drink-free hand comes up to his hair and your fingers play with a few strands on the back of his neck. 

“How’re you feelin?” Steve asks, as his hands travel up and down your arms. He knows you can get kinda anxious at parties, but you sweetly smile up at him. “Good. A bit hungry though.” 

You can see a frown start to appear on Steve’s face, but Johnathan pipes in and says “I just opened a new bag of chips, here you go.”

You turn around and he hands you the bag. You thank him with a smile and grab a few out and munch on them. Your back is against Steve’s chest now and he wraps his arms around your shoulders, resting his chin on your head. You rejoin the conversion with Nancy and your friend, and a moment later you hear someone yelling that a new cup pong game is starting in the backyard. 

Steve spins you around and grins down at you once again, wiggling his eyebrows as you return the smile. 

“Wanna go play?” he asks with a twinkle in his eye.

Last time you played each other Steve beat you terribly and you ended up getting pretty drunk. But not the bad kind; nothing but happy, flirty, and giggly. 

You mirror his eyebrow raise and set your drink on the counter.

“Oh you’re on. And be prepared to lose this time.” 

Steve laughs and grabs your hand as you walk out back.

“Oh yeah? I seem to remember a certain someone getting their ass whooped last time, but sure, we’ll see about that.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, shaking your head as he winks at you. The two of you wait for the round already going on to finish and take your places. 

“I hope you’re ready to lose, Harrington.” 

Steve does a little shimmy to get himself ‘in the zone’ and laughs slyly.

“Ohhoo, prepare yourself, honey. You’re about to get your ass. whooped. again.” The crowd that has gathered “ooo’s” and you laugh. 

After your first couple turns, it’s looking up for you and you’re winning by a good amount, having only taken 3 drinks in the first few minutes. You only need to make a few more balls in and you’ll win. 

When you only have 2 more cups left, Steve starts to make a comeback. You play-banter throughout the whole thing and it eventually comes down to one-on-one; next ball wins. 

You imitate Steve’s shimmy from the beginning and crouch down to aim your ball. A small crowd has formed now, and you and Steve each have a half cheering for or booing you. 

“Oohh!” you laugh and point at Steve, “Good luck now, Harrington. Good. Luck.” 

He grins at you but shakes his head, “Don’t get too excited, honey. I could still make it. Redemption round.” 

You nod your head and shrug your shoulders, “I mean, good luck, but don’t come crying to me when you looooseeee.”

The two of you share a grin, both knowing the banter is full of nothing but love. 

Half the crowd chants “Steve, Steve, Steve!” and the other half, mostly made up of your friends, boos and tries to distract him. He does another little dance, crouches down, and puts a focus face on. He shoots his ball, aaaannndddd…

It goes in. 

A few of his buddies surround him and clap him on the shoulder. He cheers and walks over to where you’re standing and shaking your head with a disappointed look on your face, but smiling as you take the last shot. 

"I guess we tied, huh,” he pulls your waist into his as the crowd starts to disperse.

 “That just means we gotta try again next week,” you say, and lean up to give him a kiss. It only lasts for a few seconds, and he’s smiling when he pulls away. 

“You’re so cute when you get competitive, you know that?” 

You smile, blushing a bit, and playfully swat his arm. “Oh, stop it.” 

You walk back inside, holding hands of course, and rejoin Nancy and Johnathan in the kitchen. They’re laughing with your friends and you’re quickly and easily able to rejoin the conversation. You have a few more drinks, probably a bit too many, and soon everyone starts to leave the party. It’s gotten pretty late, and you and Steve are eventually the last two left of your friends in the kitchen. You tilt your head back to down the rest of your drink, and Steve starts to notice how much you’ve drank throughout night. 

“You ready to go? It’s getting pretty late,” Steve gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You give him a head shake and move to pour another drink. 

“Noo let’s stay for a bit longer!” You start to drink your newly filled cup but Steve gently takes it from your hand. 

“I think you’ve had enough, hun. Don’t want you feeling like last time.”

You whine in protest and try to reach back for it, but almost tip over in the process. 

“Whoaa, hey,” Steve sets your cup on the counter and steadies you by holding onto your arms. “I think it’s time to go home, yeah?” By home, he means his house. You make a sound that's a mix between a whine and a hum, and slouch into him. 

“Come on,” he puts an arm around your waist and leads you out to his car. He struggles a bit to open the door, but eventually gets it and helps you into the passenger seat. You slump into the leather and don’t let go of him. 

“Stevie,” you mumble and grab onto his shirt as he’s leaning over you to buckle the seatbelt. 

“‘s the matter, sweetheart.”

“Don’t feel good,”

He leans back a bit and looks at you concerningly, “Are you gonna be sick?” He quickly starts to unbuckle your seatbelt in case you need to get out of the car, but you shake your head and lean into his chest. 

“No. Jus’ dizzy. ‘m tired.”

He gives you a sympathetic smile. “I know, honey. We’ll be home soon, just close your eyes, okay? That’ll help with your head.” 

You sluggishly nod and lean back into the seat. He buckles you in once more and kisses your forehead before shutting the door and jogging around the front of the car to the driver's side. He gets in and turns the car on, cranks the heat up a bit, and leans over to brush some hair out of your face and kiss your cheek. He backs up and keeps a hand gently rubbing your leg the whole ride home. 

When the car pulls into his driveway, he looks over to see you half asleep, but not fully. He smiles to himself and turns the car off, hopping out to help you. He unbuckles you and you stir awake a bit and hum. 

“‘s just me, baby. I’m gonna carry you inside and get us to bed, okay?”

You sleepily nod and he puts his arms around you. Your head rests on his chest and you hold onto his shirt and allow your eyes to fall closed. You’re almost asleep by the time you get to his room, and he gently lays you on his bed. You grab his arm before he can walk away to get ready for bed. 

“Wait, can you help me change? 'm uncomfy.” 

“Um, yeah, you sure?” Steve gets kinda flustered and stutters. You giggle sleepily and make grabby hands towards him. 

“Yes Stevie. ‘s not like you haven’t seen me naked before ya know.”

He softly laughs and comes over to help you sit up. 

“I know. Just wanna make sure you’re comfortable.”

You nod and gaze up at him, your fingers lightly brushing over his cheek and lips. 

“I trust you, Stevie.”

He sweetly smiles down at you. “You’re so cute.” 

You giggle and blush as he kisses your forehead. 

He gently helps you get your pajamas on and take off your makeup. He lays you back in bed, and by then you’re half asleep again. He climbs into bed next to you and you subconsciously snuggle into his side, finally feeling comfortable enough to drift off. 

a/n: Hope you enjoyed!! I could not be more grateful for all of the love shown on my last few posts, it's very encouraging <3 As always, leave requests for me pretty please! :) Also, I have my first day of work today, wish me luck!! Love ya <3

xoxo

[bookshelf-dust]

how people can change

steve harrington x gn!byers!reader

word count: 4,427

warnings: swearing, like one use of y/n, mentions of season one steve's bullshit, mentions of death, enemies to friends to more type beat

a/n: my very first *full* steve fic. look at us. who woulda thought? not me. i've been working on this since february. don't look at me, i know. i know. but i think i've gotten some sort of hold on how i'd like to write steve. some of the dialogue (season 2) isn’t mine. (also the title is a lyric from strange by celeste!) let me know what you think, okay? i love you. steve loves you. don't tell me if it's bad.

————

November 1984

The door slams behind you with a deafening thud, and you take the extra five seconds to lock it. You know, that action no one else in your family seems to be capable of performing. 

The house is quiet, and you step over the map of Hawkins sprawling over the hardwoods, careful not to damage Will’s work.

Your keys clang against the table, knocking into your mother’s ashtray. It’s dead quiet again, and you freeze at a subtle interruption in the silence. There’s a muffled sound coming from somewhere else in your home, and frankly you’ve had enough of everything the last couple of days. Which is why Joyce sent you home to get some sleep, to clear your head. 

There’s no denying that you have a soft spot for Will. He’s always been your buddy. And you love Jonathan, you do, and he’s got this sick ability to know what you’re thinking or feeling before you do, but he doesn’t need your protection like Will does. 

Will is your best friend. And he’s got one hell of a support system with you, Jonathan and your mom behind him. He deserves the world. You’ve always thought that. 

You quickly infer that it’s a walkie making the sound, based on the staticky crackle, the slightly muffled voice of whoever’s trying to get through from the other side.

Yours is off—you know it is—so it has to be Will’s. Jonathan was too good for a walkie-talkie.

You step down the hallway, pushing your younger brother’s bedroom door the rest of the way open. You scan the small area for it, listening.

“Code red! This is a code red! I repeat, this is a good red! Shit, is anyone there?”

You snatch up the device, extending the antenna.

“Dustin? Is that you?”

“Jesus christ! Where have you been?” Dustin exclaims, and you swear you can hear someone else interfering with his words.

“Sorry! I wasn’t home. What’s wrong?” You sit on the edge of Will’s bed. It’s so much comfier than yours. 

“It’s Dart! He’s, he’s just…you know what? It’s a long story. Where are you right now?”

This time you definitely hear another voice, and maybe even music.

“Dart? You kept him, right? I fucking knew it, Henderson! You’re so not a good liar.”

“That’s for sure.” You can’t place the voice, not over the walkie and over Dustin’s rambling, but you do catch that and it’s enough to leave you curious. 

The boy starts to argue back, but you cut him off. “Dustin, who are you with?”

“Uh,” he coughs, “Well you see, um…Steve Harrington. I’m with Steve Harrington.”

Dustin gets a severe eye roll from said partner-in-crime, but he brushes it off. 

“What?” You’re so confused. How did that even happen?

“I know! But everyone’s been MIA!”

“Oh my god,” you say, and Dustin can practically see you face-palming.

“Look,” he shoves a handful of rogue curls back under the brim of his hat. “Can you just meet up with us? The old junkyard?”

You push off of Will’s bed, and start walking through the house again, retrieving your things. So much for a nap or eating anything other than hospital Jell-O. What are you gonna say? Fuck no? 

“Yeah, yeah, I'll be there as soon as I can.”

“Thank god,” Dustin breathes. “See you then. Over.”

You make sure to check the batteries in Will’s walkie before you go, and then you’re back in your car again, backing out just as aggressively as your mother (something you said you’d never do). 

————

“Yeah, Farrah Fawcett. You tell anyone I just told you that, and your ass is grass you’re dead, Henderson. Do you understand?” 

“Yep.”

“Okay.”

Dustin goes quiet for a minute, watching each step he takes. The train tracks are old, and there are one too many loose nails for his liking. “So what’s Y/N got against you, man?”

Steve adjusts one of the gloves he’s wearing, trying not to think about the fact that he’s gonna smell like raw meat for who knows how long. “Uh, I don’t know, exactly. Never really talked to them before. But I’d assume it’s the–”

“The assholery?” Dustin interrupts. 

“Dude.”

“What? It’s true.”

“No, yeah, you’re right.” 

Dustin catches the slip in Steve’s attitude almost immediately. “Hey, they’re good, okay? I don’t think you’re a total dick, if that means anything. You’re trying and that’s what matters, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, we will. Thanks, Henderson.”

Dustin gives Steve a winning smile. This kid could rule the world, he thinks. 

“Anytime,” Harrington. He lifts his hand up, awaiting a fist bump that Steve returns without a second thought. 

————

You wander down the trail of raw meat you’ve found, not bothering to even question what's happening or where the meat came from. Frankly, you don’t really want to know. 

At the end of your path, you catch a glimpse of familiar curls, even if they are crushed under the red brim of a hat. 

“Dustin?”

The boy practically gives himself whiplash turning around to face you. 

“Holy shit, I’m so glad you’re here. It’ll be nice to have someone older than me who’s not a total pain in the ass.”

“Hey, I heard that.” 

The voice pulls your attention away from Dustin. When you look up, Steve Harrington is walking out of the biggest vehicle in this abandoned lot: a school bus. He’s wiping his hands on his jeans and pushing the ends of his sleeves up.

Dustin looks at you. “You guys have to be acquaintances at the least, right?”

You nod at him, feeling your face burn. If there’s a word for a less-than-acquaintance, you don’t know it. But that’s probably where your relationship with this boy lies. King Steve isn’t really someone you just miss. 

But yeah, you know him. You know he’s a dick. 

“Hi.” Steve pushes his sunglasses up into his hair and crosses his arms. 

“Hi.”

You only look at him for a moment before your eyes are back on Dustin. The younger boy notices the tension radiating from you, and honestly, he gets it. Steve Harrington wasn’t exactly the person he’d planned on spending his day with, but here he was. Desperate times call for desperate measures or whatever.

“So what are we doing?” You ask.

Dustin puts his thumbs underneath the straps of his backpack, bouncing on the balls of his feet a little. “It’s a long story. Best if we talk while we work.”

You roll your eyes at him, but follow the thirteen-year-old wherever he wants to go. You’re not sure you could deny Dustin Henderson anything. 

————

You watch as Max, a young girl you’ve just met, stomps up the steps of the ladder you’ve rigged inside the mess of a bus that you’re camped out in. 

Your chest aches because what Dustin just said to her was rude, it was rude, and you can’t believe the two of them. You sit, arms crossed and leg shaking up and down, glaring at Steve.

You find it hard to believe that after everything you’ve learned tonight, about Dart, about Mews—which you’re never going to get over because you only visit Dustin’s house for his cat, never him—that this is what they’re doing now.

“That’s good,” Steve says. “Just show her you don’t care.” 

Dustin is pacing, hands deep in his pockets. “I don’t,” he breathes.

Steve winks. Watching the two of them is like watching a tennis match. You don’t even like tennis.

“Why are you winking, Steve?” 

You drag your hand down your face, sick of hearing this stupid ass conversation. When Dustin sits, the constant clink of metal where Steve keeps flicking his lighter open over and over starts to give you a headache. 

“Fuck, Steve, would you quit it already?” 

He scoffs, snapping the lid to his Zippo closed harder than he had been before. “What’s your problem?”

“You’re pissing me off, that’s my problem.”

Steve’s brow furrows. He doesn’t really understand the sudden need for aggression. 

“Is this really the time for you to be yelling at me?”

“Is this really the time for you to be a dick?”

Dustin jerks the antenna on his walkie down, clearly sick of the two of you. “Would you children stop bickering? This is a life or death situation we have going on here.”

“I’d prefer death,” you proclaim. 

Dustin glares at you. “I can arrange that if you’d really rather die, than act civil for one evening.”

“I think all of the civility,” you gesture vaguely with your hands, “went out the window when you asked me to come help fight demo-dogs.”

Steve snorts at your words, and you glare at him, an “oh, is that funny?” look on your face. 

Dustin rearranges the hat on his head, stuffing his curls underneath it once again. “Alright. I’m gonna go check on our status, you two…work shit out, okay?”

“Dude,” Steve starts, “I’m older than you. I don’t have to listen to your instructions.” He gestures vaguely with his hands.

Dustin flips him off, and that’s the only response Steve receives, leaving the two of you alone in the bus.

You remain quiet, hoping that if you do you might just disappear or dissolve into the cracked leather of the seat you're sitting on. Then there really wouldn’t be any form of confrontation.

Steve starts flipping the lid to his Zippo open and shut repeatedly again, but this time it doesn’t annoy you. In fact, it gives you something to focus on, and you know that if you had one you’d be doing the same exact thing. 

You wonder if he’s nervous. Or just bored. 

Your knee begins to bounce when you realize that he’s looking at you, that he’s stopped messing with the lighter. But you refuse to look back, staring instead at the way the moonlight glints off of the metal in between his fingers. 

“So what’s your problem with me?”

The way Steve says those words is so unlike the way he’s spoken the rest of the day, the way he’s behaved with Dustin, that you feel a pang in your chest. 

He sounds like he used to. 

“Did you even hear that? How conceded you just sounded? Like it’s funny that I might have a problem with you, king Steve?”

Obviously the use of his nickname hits a nerve. He shoves the lighter back into his pocket and sits up, tucking his hands under his knees. 

“Would you just cut the shit and tell me what your problem is then?”

You sit up, matching his stance. There’s a part of you that wants to piss him off. You ache for it. 

“You’re a dick, that’s my problem.”

Steve scoffs. 

“That’s it? Like I don’t already know that?”

You roll your eyes, oblivious to the fact that all three of the younger kids you’re with have their heads hung over the escape latch in the top of the bus, listening eagerly. 

“You think I’m just gonna put up with you, Harrington? I’m sorry, did you forget the slut shaming you and your shitty friends did publicly last fall? Because I sure as hell didn’t. I didn’t forget that you walk around like you fucking own the entirety of Hawkins because you’re swimming in daddy’s money. I didn’t forget that your girlfriend took my best friend away from me.”

You stop, and Steve just looks at you. You realize how heavy you’re breathing and subconsciously watch the steady movement of his chest, trying to match the pace and calm down. You hadn’t meant to get worked up like that. But sometimes…sometimes shit just happens. 

Steve sighs. Honestly he feels a little sick. And he could argue with you some more, say that you don’t know what you’re talking about, that that’s the past, that he’s getting better. But that feels shallow. It feels meaningless. Because he knows it’s true. That in worrying about only himself or getting the girl or impressing whoever, he hurt loads more people than he realized. 

It’s such bullshit, he thinks. This life he’s been living.

“You know, I’ve gotten plenty of earfuls about my actions from Dustin, I promise you that much. He can be very mean.” 

You snort, considering there’s absolutely no denying that. “He’s a smart kid.” 

Steve nods. He’s trying to think of a way to respond. He’s not good with words. 

“Look, I-I know I’m a dick, okay?” he starts. You decide to be brave and look at him. He seems to like that. The eye contact. It’s like it lets him know you’re paying attention. He doesn’t get a lot of that, not away from school. 

“The thing with Nancy,” he gestures with his hands, looking away from you and at the wall of the bus, like it hurts him to talk about or something. “I don’t know. My solution to not getting what I wanted was apparently to take it out on her. Tommy H. proposed the idea, and I didn’t stop it.”

“You know I cleaned it off, right?” he continues. 

You uncross your arms and sit up, criss crossing your legs instead. “No. I didn’t know that.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I broadcasted the information across Hawkins. Tommy and Carol don’t even know.”

Oh. The fact that they didn’t know tells you that he did it without needed recognition. He did it because he wanted to.

“I just—she saw it. And then there was the whole thing…”

You start to grin before you catch yourself, but he sees it. 

“It’s okay, you can laugh. I got the shit beat out of me.”

“You deserved it.”

He can’t argue with that. He won’t argue with it. “You’re right. I did. I said and did a lot that day that I regret.”

You nod, and then you’re both just looking at one another. It’s quiet out here, the same quiet you get at home, where you can hear the crickets, where you know there will be lightning bugs in the warmer months, free to roam uninterrupted by human activity. 

Steve pushes his hair from his forehead, and though he sees you track the movement of his hand, he doesn’t point it out.

“What did you mean about your friend?”

If you’re being honest with yourself, you hadn’t intended for that to come out, but being in such close proximity to Steve in this moment had just made everything spill out. 

You try to wave him off. “That was a whole thing. I didn’t mean to spill my guts like that.”

“No, it’s okay, I want to know. If you want to tell me, that is.”

You nod, chewing at your thumb nail now. Steve has the urge to reach forward and pull it free so you won’t hurt yourself, but he doesn’t. Instead he stays still and quiet, watching you contemplate a while. 

Eventually he decides to keep going. 

“I’m trying, you know,” he tells you. You look up and it gives him that little push to continue speaking. “To be better. I know you think I’m a total dick, and you’re not wrong, I know that, but I really am trying to be better. To be a good influence on those little shits.” He quirks his head upwards where he knows all three of his charges are eavesdropping, without a doubt. 

You take a second and look at him. Really look at him. He seems to carry himself differently, though it’s not something you’d notice if you weren’t looking. He’s not dressed like his mommy picked out his outfit. He looks messy. The mess draws you in. 

“I believe you. And I-I know I shouldn’t stereotype you, but it’s just—”

“I am a walking stereotype,” Steve grins. So do you.

“Yeah. I guess so. But I believe that you’re working on it. I suppose some people don’t remain assholes forever.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, though a little distracted. You still haven’t told you what you meant, but that’s not what’s really bugging him. 

There’s this pull inside him. This longing for a friend. A real friend. Not someone he knows just because their dads were up each other's asses, or someone he just sits with at lunch because they’re of the same status quo. 

And he just feels so alone right now. What with Nancy, this girl he thought he was in love with and everything, but clearly she doesn’t feel the same. What’s he even supposed to do with that? Did he ever actually know anything about her?��

It doesn’t matter. 

What matters is that he’s sitting here with you, hanging out with thirteen-year-olds and hiding from creatures Steve’s brain can’t even begin to decipher. 

“Barb,” you say. Steve panicked a little internally at the mention of her name, considering. But he keeps his eyes on you, focused on each word that leaves your mouth. “She was my best friend, in middle school that is.”

He nods. Oh. Oh. 

“We were still close when we got to high school, had a little group and everything, right? And even though high school kinda fucks everything up, I didn’t want to believe that would happen to our little partnership, you know?” 

He nods again, trying his best to pay attention. He’s trying harder than he ever has in school. He probably shouldn’t ever say that out loud.

“Anyways, she was my best friend. She was all I knew, and then we got to lovely Hawkins High, and she met Nancy. Nancy and I never really clicked, even when we tried. I guess it’s because I’ve always thought she was a pretentious bitch—sorry, Steve—but I don’t know. We just fell apart after that.”

“So Barb had Nancy and I had…no one. And the way my brain saw it was Nancy took my best friend from me, and then Nancy started seeing you, and so I saw those two from across the cafeteria, lounging with the popular kids. With you. And then she died.”

Steve is looking at you in a way he’s never looked at you before. Like he’s in awe of you. And it’s not anything negative. It’s warm. Understanding. Like something you’ve said has straightened something out in his brain, sorted something he couldn’t figure out on his own. 

“S-so it was like we took her from you, in a way?” he asks. 

“Yeah. And you didn’t. God, you didn’t. But it just felt like this…” you trail off, searching for the right words.

“Domino effect?”

“Yeah! Yeah. Exactly. And it’s not your fault, not at all. But I guess I already saw you as some dickish rich kid and that gave me another reason to stay the fuck away from you. And now that I’m saying it out loud I realize how awful it sounds because people change, you know?”

“No, I get it. I’ve been an asshole, and I’m sure I still am—Dustin can attest to that—but there are rich assholes that don’t change or probably won’t ever change. I know a few of them.”

You go quiet again. Steve doesn’t want you to stop talking. He’s starting to think he likes the sound of your voice. 

“It’s good that you’re changing, Steve. I’m sorry I said you were such a dick.”

A breathy laugh leaves his throat. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m sorry for…everything.”

“Maybe we can make a truce or something. Start over. It’s not like we really know each other that well anyhow.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s cool. Whatever you want.” He means that. He thinks he’d do whatever you wanted him to. 

“Okay. Maybe we can just try and figure it out.”

“I’d like that,” Steve says. He stops himself from proclaiming that he wants to try and fix this with you. Because you’re listening to him. You’re not mad. He doesn’t want you to disappear on him after this. 

You give him a small smile and he swears he might cry. Not that that feeling lasts. 

“Hey!” Dustin is leaning down into the bus, hands clasped together. “I’m so glad we’ve got this handled, but we’ve got a code red, so let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”

————

June 1985

The door to the back room swings open, a frazzled boy rushing in. You drop your candy wrapper on the table, and Robin keeps talking about the girl that you missed coming in this morning. She was “such a babe.”  

“Hello?” Steve stands in front of the both of you, hands on his hips. You have to fight back a laugh. 

Your eyes find Steve’s immediately, and you swear they soften, but maybe you’re imagining it. You nudge Robin’s leg where your foot is propped up on one of the supports under her chair. 

She stops flailing and looks up, seeing Steve’s hand raised where he’d been about to snap to get her attention. She quirks a brow. “Don’t you snap at me, Harrington! This is important shit.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Could you two come and help me? I’m dying out here!”

It’s one of the hottest days of the year, and Scoops has had a line since it opened at ten. 

You look at your watch. “My shift doesn’t start for…fifteen minutes.” He rolls his eyes at you, though the gesture is void of any malice it could possibly hold. 

“Yeah, well this is supposed to be my break, so get out there, Buckley!”

She stands, though she’s pouting. “Come on.”

“You took the job,” he says, shoving her through the door. Robin gives him a look that you can’t see, but you can practically feel it from across the small room. 

Steve lets out an exaggerated sigh, ripping off the hat he’s been wearing and throwing it on the table in front of you. 

You watch him rummage through a bag before he emerges from its depths with a banana and throws himself down in the chair across from you, lifting your leg up from where you’d moved it to occupy the seat Robin had abandoned. His hand is warm on the bare skin of your calf, and he shifts the chair some, laying your leg across both of his. 

“Steve.”

“Huh?” He peels the banana, aggressively fast actually, and rips off a chunk, popping it into his mouth. 

“Why do you have a banana?” 

He meets your eyes. “Snack, duh.” He chews, and then gestures at the closed window. “Been working up a sweat out there I think I deserve a break.”

You grin at him, and he feels like he might hit the floor. 

“Want some?” Steve pulls off a chunk and holds it out to you. 

“Did you wash your hands?”

He gasps, mid-chew, and forces himself to swallow. “D-did I—yes, I washed my hands, mom, I’m not four.”

“Eh,” Robin’s voice breaks your little bubble. She’s pulled the window open–that way she can eavesdrop– propping herself up on her elbows. 

That makes you laugh, and when you smile your cheek is full of banana and Steve swears something is breaking inside of him. 

“Gang up on me then why don’t you,” he says, handing you the last piece he’s got left. He tosses the peel in the trash, “what do you want anyhow, Robin?” 

“Your break is up, and her shift has started. Let’s get to slinging ice cream, shitheads!”

You wipe your hands on your shorts and hop up. Steve doesn’t move, just looks at you. 

“C’mon, Steven. It’ll be lunch sooner than later.”

He grins. His eyes look tired and you wonder if he slept any last night. He told you once recently that he doesn’t always sleep well, that sometimes he has to listen to tapes in order to keep his head from being so busy, to keep the thoughts from being so loud. 

Steve has told you a lot since last fall. There’s a significant bit more that you know that’s more than what he’s given Robin, but you know he’ll let her in. He just needs the time. 

Though sometimes you think he might be giving you everything. The parts of himself he’s never shown anyone else. Because you’ve been such a good listener, and Steve’s never really had that before. 

He wishes he had the balls to tell you more. But he can’t fuck it up this time. Not with you. You’re too good.

Steve is your best friend now. You know that. He knows it.

If yourself from a year ago could see you now, she’d probably knock your fucking teeth in. But he’s just so much more than you thought. You’re not sure you’ll ever forgive yourself for not thinking there could be more in him, though he’s told you not to be upset. You’ve told him the same when he berates himself for not having paid you more attention in school.

It’s the past. You can’t live there. And today, you’re scooping ice cream for pre-sticky kids, for shitty pay, but it doesn’t matter because you have him. You have Robin. 

You stick out your hand, and Steve takes it without a second thought. His palm engulfs yours, skin warm and a little calloused. 

“We can watch whatever you want tonight.”

He squeezes your hand. You and Robin are supposed to have a sleepover with him tonight. He suggested he sleep in a guest room and you two have his bed, but Robin said she needs to be cuddled. You said you’re not letting him sleep anywhere but his bed. 

“I thought you wanted to watch Girls Just Want to Have Fun.”

“I always wanna watch that. But you can pick first, Stevie.”

Stevie. His stomach flips at that. You don’t let it out often, but when you do it’s like Steve might just die right there. 

He straightens, deal clearly made, and you pull him up–not that you need to. 

You push through the door with him, and immediately regret it. It’s like the soccer moms can smell your fear, and you know it. 

“Breathe,” Steve says. “Dustin’s here.”

He is. The entire party. That you can deal with. 

You think you could deal with an absurd line and angry mothers for the rest of your life if it meant assembling Dustin and Lucas’ weird orders. Even if you have to endure Will’s questioning looks and his pleas that you bring some ice cream home. If you have to listen to Robin’s word vomit.

If it meant spending time with Steve, you’d do it. 

God, how shit changes.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[idyllicwillowtree]

God Eddie, You're So In Love With Me. (part 3)

Genre: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader, fem!reader, angst/fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers

Summary: Being in Hellfire, you’ve been exposed to your fair share of bullying. One day, Jason takes it a step too far.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: bullying, anaphylaxis, poisoning, no physical descriptions of Y/N so you don’t have to look like Dustin, reader uses she/her, reader has a peanut allergy, swearing, angy Eddie, hospital

Author’s note: I'm so so sorry this is so late! but I did it!

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Part 1 ; Part 2

Love, a word so potent, was now intertwined with his thoughts of your relationship. Eddie knew he liked you, a lot, but his brain never brought him to love. He replayed moments from your friendship in his head, searching for the signs, trying to decipher if Dustin was telling the truth. If the sentiment was truly real. A mix of surprise and uncertainty overwhelmed him, but there was also something warm and hopeful there. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

He needed to see you and hear it from you directly. A million thoughts and memories raced through his mind, but one thing was clear–he needed to be with you, to tell you how he felt.

The first thing you noticed was the soft hum of medical equipment surrounding you, followed by a sterile scent lingering in the air. The steady beeping of monitors consistently interrupted the silence as you slowly blinked away unconsciousness. You turned your head slightly, eyes adjusting to the brightness of your hospital room. 

First, you notice Dustin snoozing next to Steve on the couch to your right. Dustin’s mouth hung open as he leaned practically all of his weight into Steve’s side. He most likely fell asleep before Steve, making him unable to move from his spot. You would’ve felt bad for the former King of Hawkins if you thought he was actually annoyed by your little brother’s presence, but he obviously had a soft spot for him.

It was then you noticed the weight on your left hand. You turned your head lazily and there he was. Slouched over your arm, his hair rudely obstructing your view of his relaxed face as his steady breath moved a strand in and out of his mouth. You did your best to slip your hand out, a desperate attempt to push the hair out of his face, but all you did was startle him awake.

Eddie’s top half shot upwards, brown eyes as wide as saucers and hair sticking out in all different directions. He flailed his arms wildly in an attempt to fight off an invisible attacker and let out a high pitched squeak that woke up your brother and Steve. Eddie’s eyes scanned the room wildly, a mix of confusion and fear before realizing where he was.

He didn’t even notice you were awake until you started giggling at him.

Eddie’s gaze snapped to yours, he didn’t have time to memorize the way your laugh sounded right after waking up before Dustin launched himself at you. Attacking you in a hug that squished all the air out of your lungs.

Eddie stepped back a bit, unsure of where to belong in this situation. He didn’t want to interrupt a moment between brother and sister. Steve was easing Dustin off of you so you could breathe again and Eddie couldn’t help but wonder how King Steve managed to fit himself into the Henderson family so easily. He seems to blend in effortlessly into your sibling relationship that it planted a seed of doubt in Eddie’s chest.

“What happened?” you asked after Dustin sat back.

“You had an allergic reaction.”

“Oh…right,” you said quietly as the memories slowly came back to you. Of course, it’s just your luck a damn peanut sends you closer to death than any demogorgon, demodog, russian spy or mind flayer ever did.

“Powell took Carver in for questioning,” Steve said.

Dustin scoffed.

“He may not be Hopper,” Steve added, “but he hasn’t let him go despite Carver’s dad throwing a fit about the whole thing. We have a whole cafeteria of witnesses so he’ll have a hard time getting out of this one.”

You eyed Eddie standing awkwardly in the corner, toeing one of the tiles on the floor with his beat up Reeboks. Doing everything in his power to not make eye contact with you. Before you could question it, the door swung open.

"Excuse me," a nurse said gently as she entered the room, "Y/N needs rest right now. Her body has been through a lot. I suggest you all head home for the night and come back tomorrow when she's feeling a bit better."

Dustin looked ready to protest, but you squeezed his hand, silently urging him to listen. He nodded solemnly and turned to gather his things. Steve stood up, giving you a warm smile, although you didn’t send one back.

Your eyes met Steve’s with a gentle yet persistent gaze. A subtle tension filled the hospital room, unnoticeable to Eddie and Dustin. Your eyes flicked towards the former, then back at Steve, only to be met with a confused look on his face. He stared at you dumbly, mouth agape in an ‘o’ shape, trying to decipher your expression. 

You grew more urgent, eyes darting towards Eddie again, praying the metalhead wouldn’t look up and notice the silent conversation you were having with Steve.

Finally, realization dawned in his eyes and with a quick nod and a teasing grin Steve gripped Dustin’s shoulders and steered him out the door.

“What the- Steve!” 

“Anyway, get better soon Y/N/N! I’ll get Dustin home safe and sound,” Steve rushed out.

“Let me say bye to my sister!”

Steve pulled him into the hallway before Dustin could protest any more, the door swung shut and effectively cutting off their bickering.

With the other boys gone, your eyes softened as you turned towards Eddie, a warm smile formed across your face as you tried to catch his eye.

“Glad you’re okay Y/N. I’ll uh…I’ll see you around,” he moved to follow Steve and Dustin out but hesitated at the door.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?” He turned to you, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Maybe…you could stay here? I mean, only if you want to. You’ve already done so much for me already, I don’t want to force you or anything…” you trailed off.

Eddie was fidgeting, bouncing on the balls of his feet and wiping his sweaty palms over and over again on his ripped jeans.

“Do you want me to stay?” Eddie asked quietly. 

The timidness in his voice caught you off guard for a moment but you didn’t hesitate to answer, “yes. I want you to stay.”

Eddie’s eyes shine with fondness as he walks back to his chair at the side of your bed. You sent him a warm tight lipped smile as he got himself comfortable on the stiff plastic seat.

The air between you both felt heavy with unspoken feelings and words, interrupted only by the footsteps in the hallway and the gentle hum of medical equipment. Eddie stole glances at you, his heart pounding so hard he could almost see it through his Hellfire shirt. You could feel the weight of his gaze, sensing the turmoil in his head.

Finally, unable to bear the silence you asked, “what day is it?”

“Uh,” Eddie said, looking at the digital watch on his wrist, “technically it’s Saturday morning.”

 “WHAT?!” your eyes widened in horror. “Eddie, your campaign!”

“What?” Eddie asked.

“You worked so hard on it! Ugh, I’m so sorry Eddie-” you cut yourself off at the look in Eddie’s eyes. There was a vulnerability you had never seen before.

And then, without any warning, Eddie’s facade crumpled. Tears filled his eyes and flowed down his cheeks in steady streams. He turned away from you, shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs.

Your heart shattered at the sight, “Eddie, I’m sorry. We can do it when I get out of here, I promise.”

“Fuck, that’s not-” Eddie gripped his hair in frustration. He could spin fantasy stories into gold but finding the right words to express his feelings never came easy to him.

Sensing that this breakdown was not about the campaign you reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Hey,” you whispered. “It’s okay.”

Eddie shook his head, unable to speak through the tears, but he still leaned into your touch. You tugged at his sleeve gently and that was all Eddie needed to sit on the edge of your bed and collapse into your embrace. 

“I-I mean, you were the one who almost died but…but,” Eddie let out a heart wrenching whimper into your shoulder. “Fuck, it was j-just so scary. I didn’t know what to do.”

You hold him gently, arms wrapped tightly around him in a comforting embrace. You could feel him trembling, his breathing was uneven as he attempted to suppress more sobs. Your heart ached at the thought of Eddie seeing you almost die the way you did.

You stroke his surprisingly soft hair, whispering soothing words of comfort and reassurance. As Eddie’s cries subside into quiet sniffles, you continue to hold him until he slowly peeled himself away. He aggressively swipes the tears and snot from his face, keeping his gaze pointed downward.

“Sorry,” Eddie sniffed, embarrassed by his outburst.

You push the hair out of his face and behind his ear, a gesture that felt strangely natural. “It’s okay, Eddie. It’s really scary to witness someone choke to death on nothing. It messed Dustin up for a while.” 

Eddie’s breath hitched in his throat, “You’ve had uh...ana-puh-nax-sis before?”

You giggled slightly which made the corners of Eddie’s mouth turn upward.

“When I was really young Dustin and I had a babysitter that ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before coming over and that was enough to send me to the hospital. I was in a coma for two days. Dustin witnessed everything and he’s been researching allergies ever since.”

“Wow. You don’t even have to eat it to get a reaction?”

“Nope.”

“Did Harrington help out last time too?” Eddie spat the boy's name like it was venom on his tongue.

“Nah, we didn’t really know Steve back then. Although I wasn’t surprised to see him with Dustin here. They’re kind of a package deal these days.”

“I mean, I knew him and Dustin were friends but I didn’t know you guys were…uh…”

“Eddie Munson…are you jealous?” you teased.

Deny. Deny. Deny. Eddie thought.

“Yes.”

 The realization made your face slowly melt into shock. “Oh.”

You were used to the flirtatious teasing in your friendship but Eddie seemed more serious than he’s ever been. Your eyes scanned Eddie’s face, searching for any sign of sarcasm, but you came up empty.

“He’s not really my type, you know.”

Eddie's eyes widened in surprise. "He's not?"

"No," you said, shaking your head. "Steve is a great guy and a good friend, but he's like the older brother I never knew I needed. Besides he’s not a metalhead, he hates Dungeons and Dragons, he doesn’t know how to play guitar, his hair is great but definitely too crunchy with the amount of hairspray-”

Before you could say anything else, Eddie leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. It was sudden, unexpected, and completely wonderful. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you quickly closed them, losing yourself in the moment.

When you both finally pulled away, Eddie was beaming, his eyes sparkling with a mix of joy and disbelief. 

You duck your head slightly and giggle, “sorry, I haven’t brushed my teeth in a while.”

Eddie shakes his head and smiles fondly at you, “sweetheart, I’ve been waiting too long for this to let that stop me.” He grabs the sides of your head to give you another kiss, leaning back with a dramatic shmack as you parted. “I even gave up eating tree nuts all together in case this day ever came.”

He leaned in again only for you to pull away, “What?” you asked in disbelief.

“What? Is that weird? Oh god, I’m so sorry-” 

Before Eddie could panic any further, you hooked your fingers into his pick necklace and pulled him towards you. This time you were the one to cut him off with a kiss that soon morphed into a teasing smile.

When you parted Eddie’s eyes were wide and his mouth slightly agape as you said, “God Eddie, you’re so in love with me.”

the end.

tags: @beeblisss @fishwithtitz @leah-loves-lilies @wickedscorpio22 @chaoticgood-munson

[munsons-melody]

friendly little reminder here that in season 2 episode 9: the gate, at the end of the episode when hopper goes to owen’s for el’s birth certificate, the name of the place is The Hideaway (shown on the outside of the window when hop walks in)

which could it have been possibly renamed to the hideout or is it apart of the hideout? i just love to connect anything to eddie

[keerysfreckles]

time after time — steve harrington

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve's longing glance to y/n makes him decide to stay at the hawkin's middle school snow ball.

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, steve being a goofball, STEVE FLUFF!!!!!!

a/n: thanks cindy lauper for writing time after time and for my pookie wifey @keerysbrowneyes <3

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

steve harrington had a very interesting fall of 1984. he never thought he'd fight off inter-dimentional monsters again, and especially didn't see himself becoming friends with five middle schoolers.

so he wasn't too surprised while driving dustin henderson to his eight grade winter formal.

"you're gonna go in there," steve starts a pep-talk, "looking like a million bucks."

dustin nods in agreement, before flipping the passenger side visor down, examining his hair once more.

steve grunts while flipping the visor back up. he continues his pep-talk quickly, and makes sure to remind dustin to keep the lion purr out of tonight's vocabulary.

just as steve was about to pull out of the school's parking lot, a figure caught his eye. y/n l/n's figure to be exact. her light purple dress with slightly ruffle sleeves made steve's heart swoon. of course she was wearing her very worn out chuck taylor's to chaperone the dance. steve couldn't remember the last time he saw the girl wearing heels.

he watched for another moment as y/n handed two drinks to two younger girls. steve smiled when y/n did, and he knew he had to do something about it.

the whole time as he was parking his car and walking towards the gym entrance, he made a pro and con list of the decision.

pros; y/n might actually want to see him after he ignored her for a whole week, maybe he'll get to kiss her, and he just wanted to see how pretty she looked up close.

cons; she'd punch him in the face (again), she might not be ready to be face-to-face with the brunette, or she'll simply laugh once steve walks in the double doors.

what could go wrong? he thought, just as he opened the door and walked by mr. clarke.

an upbeat song was playing over the speakers while steve walked under the blue and white arched balloons. to his left, jonathan was taking pictures. in the middle were all the students, either milling around the sides, or dancing in more crowded area. and to his right, was y/n standing at the punch table.

steve felt his heart skip a beat before his feet drug him over to the poorly decorated refreshment table.

he looked over y/n's appearance once again before he was fully in front of her. her purple dress stopped just above her knees, and her hair was pulled back out of her face with a few pieces framing her soft features.

"steve!" y/n smiles once he walks up to the table, "where have you been? i haven't heard from you in a couple of days."

steve chuckles while hiding the truth, "yeah, it's just been pretty busy with senior year."

y/n nods in agreement before steve speaks again.

"how's the drink table going? anybody try and spike the punch yet?"

y/n lets out a laugh, "it's going, and i haven't seen anyone with a hidden flask yet."

a moment of comfortable silence passes before a slower song blares over the speakers and into the gym. most students grab a partner and start slowing swaying back and forth. a lightblub appeared above steve's brown hair.

"do you want to dance?"

the question immediately caught y/n off gaurd. the steve harrington, the boy who she has liked since third grade was asking if she wanted to dance with him.

"i- uh- what about the drink station?" y/n's face grows hot as she stammers out an answer.

"nancy's got it," steve gestures his head behind y/n, making her turn to see nancy walking up behind her.

"go have fun," nancy talks softly after patting y/n away from the table and towards steve.

she lets out another laugh as steve simply holds out his hand. she gladly takes it, and her heart skips at the feeling of his skin on hers. his warm hand encasing her cold one.

steve leads y/n out to the crowd of seventh and eighth graders. she can't help but laugh at how out of place she seems in the middle school gymnasium, but she couldn't care. because she was with steve harrington.

"cmon don't go all stiff on me l/n," steve teases after putting his hands on her waist. the girl's face only grows a darker shade of red while placing her hands on his firm, broad shoulders.

at the same time, the pair subtly look over each other. steve looks over y/n's simple makeup, just blush and mascara. he didn't know how she looked even more beautiful than before. y/n chuckled slightly at his attire, consisting of a red longsleeve, jeans, and of course his red nike's.

"i'm sorry i haven't reached out this past week," steve admits.

y/n shakes her head, while the two were now slowing swaying in circles as the song continued.

"it's okay steve, really. i get it, senior year has been stressful for everyone."

steve wishes he could tell y/n the truth. but he doubts she'd believe him if he said he fought of monsters the past two years, got his ass beat by billy hargrove, and became close to dustin henderson.

steve and y/n both got lost in each other's eyes. she could look into his chocolate brown eyes for hours on end and not get bored. her eyes drifted to his other features. the small creases around his eyebrows while he seemed focused on something, she wanted to run her fingers over the skin to smooth it out. the freckles on his cheeks and moving down his neck, she needed to kiss every single one. the slight smirk he always had adorning his lips, she wished she could just kiss the smirk off his face.

y/n got lost in her daydreaming, she could've sworn steve was leaning closer to her than before.

she didn't want to believe it, but she was leaning in closer as well.

"steve," y/n's voice is quiet, she fears no sound even came out of her mouth.

steve's lips were now centimeters away from y/n's. their foreheads were almost touching, and the thought of steve kissing her only made her dizzy.

however, she knew steve would catch her, feeling as his grip hardened on her waist. he leaned even closer, touching his lips to hers.

his lips were softer than y/n ever imagined. her hands move to the back of his neck, running her fingertips over the soft curls while her thumbs were on his cheeks. steve's hands held y/n so tightly, even if she did fall, she wouldn't have noticed. he held her close, deepening the kiss slightly before pulling away.

both of their lips were a darker shade now, and both teens were slightly out of breath.

to try and seem cool about the whole ordeal, y/n leans forward to place her head on steve's chest. she could hear his heartbeat, as it seemed to pick up slightly at her action.

steve smiled to himself. he actually kissed her. y/n l/n, the girl he's adored since the fifth grade formal actually kissed him back.

steve kissed the top of y/n's head, and internally thanked his younger self for the growth spurt, now making him at least seven inches taller than the girl in his arms.

the song was coming to a close, but steve didn't want this moment to end.

"do you want to get milkshakes?"

[beady-eyed-munson]

Eddie being soothed to sleep by wayne's accent