#Stranger things babysitter
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lukas-dusk · 7 months ago
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Pov : Eddie survive the upside down and just join the babysitter club
Jonathan : You really put everything aside and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?
Nancy : Three counts of resisting arrest.
Robin : Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks.
Steve : Several traffic violations.
Argyle : Also, that’s not our van.
Eddie : I have never been so terrified in my life.
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ashwhowrites · 11 months ago
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Dustin's babysitter
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Eddie x Dustin's babysitter
A small idea that ran through my head. I hope you guys enjoy this🫶🏻 and thank you for reading!
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Dustin wasn't a fan of admitting he still had a babysitter. His friends always teased him but his mom was just scared of the world and wanted extra eyes on him. Dustin loved his babysitter, Y/N. He always had a blast with her, she interacted with him and he liked to believe they were good friends.
Dustin groaned when he saw Y/N's car pulling up to grab him from hellfire. He hated his friends knowing, and he didn't want to admit to Eddie he needed a babysitter.
"Awwww Dusty's little babysitter is here!" Mike mocked, his voice like a baby.
Dustin blushed and rolled his eyes. So much for not wanting Eddie to know, Dustin thought.
"Woah! Henderson, do you still have a babysitter? Aren't you like in high school?" Eddie asked, confusion on his face and a slight smile peeking out.
"My mom is paranoid, okay!" Dustin argued he tried to quickly walk to her car as she still drove up, but he yanked open her door before she even parked.
"You okay?" She asked, Dustin sighed and nodded. It wasn't her fault he was embarrassed. She was simply doing her job.
"...well let me meet this said babysitter." She heard a deep voice say, definitely older than the young teens she was around.
Then a face appeared in Dustin's open window. She saw dark curly long hair and dazzling brown eyes. This boy was much older, and she was thankful for that because he was damn hot.
Eddie wasn't sure what smart-ass remark he planned to make. He met her eyes and found himself wishing he needed a babysitter. She was gorgeous, hot, and sexy all at once. In simple jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, but he swore she glowed. He snapped out of his daydream and turned on his charm.
A smirk on his face as he held out his ring-filled hand, "Name is Eddie Munson, and you are?"
"Y/N, it's nice to meet you." She said with a polite smile as she shook his cold metal hand. The weight of his rings made his hand feel heavy, yet she didn't mind.
Dustin watched between the two, eyeing the way they stared, and didn't let go of each other. He awkwardly coughed, causing them to jump apart with embarrassed smiles. Eddie pulled back his hand and held it behind his back.
"I'll see you around, Eddie." She said and pulled out of the parking lot. Eddie straightened his spine as he watched the car take off.
"Wow, she's -" he started but Mike and Lucas cut him off.
"Hot," they said in unison with a knowing smirk.
"Yeah, hot." Eddie agreed, his mind filled with her and her only.
~~~
"Pizza is coming at 7, so just don't be later than that," Dustin said to the gang as they circled in the hallway.
"Do I have to be there?" Max asked with a sigh, she did not want to spend her Friday night at Dustin's house.
"Not like you have anything better to do," Dustin argued with a glare. Max sighed but agreed that he was right.
"So my house before 7!" Dustin said one last time, the gang nodded and everyone understood.
"Having a party little man?" Eddie asked as he walked up, overhearing the conversation. It was a Friday night and he kinda hoped Dustin's mom had big plans for the night.
"Sorta! Why? Are you interested?" Dustin asked excitedly, Eddie was slowly becoming like a big brother and he wanted to hang out with him more.
"Will your mom be there?" Eddie asked slight hope in his voice.
"Nope!"
"Then I'm there," Eddie said with a wink. He couldn't wait for tonight.
"Okay! Bring your apron!" Dustin said as the final bell rang. He was quick to walk down the hall for class.
"WAIT! APRON!?" Eddie called after him but the halls got loud with all the commotion.
~~~
Once school ended, Eddie raced him with excitement. He dug through his closet to find his best clothes, and he picked out his best jewelry. He sprayed cologne all over himself and covered his lips in chapstick....just in case.
He didn't want to seem too eager so he waited to show up around 7 o'clock. He knocked on the door and rocked on his heels. He planned to talk Y/N's ear off all night and then ask her out. And hopefully, end the night with his lips on hers.
"You made it!" Dustin cheered as he opened the door. Eddie walked through and saw the gang all covered in flour.
"What's going on?" Eddie asked
"Bake sale!" Dustin said as they walked into the kitchen. Eddie did not know what he got himself into. A bake sale? Eddie does not bake, he gets baked.
"Oh hell no, I'm not baking." Eddie laughed, he took in the room and noticed Y/N wasn't even there.
"Where's your babysitter?"
"Right here," Steve said as he walked into the kitchen. A towel over his shoulder and a dirty apron on his body. "You must be Eddie?" Steve asked.
"Son of a bitch!" Eddie groaned.
~~~
After Eddie's big fail of a Friday night, he didn't have much energy for Saturday. Of course, Henderson has two babysitters and Y/N wasn't there the night he was around. And he got stuck baking over a hundred cookies. Safe to stay, he learned his lesson of jumping into plans.
Eddie was trying to work on his campaign when his line rang. He groaned and walked over to pick it up, figuring it would be Wayne. But instead, he heard Dustin's familiar voice on the other line.
"Hey! I got this new video game, wanna come over and try it? Mom's gone so you can bring your beers."
Eddie had to admit, drinking and video games were tempting.
"Babysitter gonna allow that?" Eddie asked.
"Y/N wo-" "I'm on my way" Eddie cut him off and raced to his room. Once again, he found his best clothes, sprayed himself in cologne, and grabbed a beer case from his closet.
Eddie prepped himself during the car ride. He had limited time to make his impression on her and a little time to get her number. He didn't want to ditch Dustin too much so he needed to give equal time to the young kid. And to make it not noticeable Eddie was going for the hot babysitter.
~
Dustin raced to the door to answer it when Eddie knocked, excitedly dragging him to the couch as he had the game all set to go. But before they could start, Eddie's prayers were answered.
"What's Eddie doing here?" She asked confused, Dustin didn't need permission but she wasn't aware he invited anyone over.
"New video game!" Dustin said, remote in hand.
"Nah uh, you still need to clean your room. Mom said that before the new game." Y/N reminded him with a stern tone. Dustin sighed but listened. His shoulders slumped as he walked into his room. "ONE SECOND EDDIE!"
"I'm sorry to make you wait. He didn't tell me." Y/N said, "But you can play if you want while you wait for him."
"Wanna join me?" He asked, holding out Dustin's remote with a smile. This was his chance.
"I don't know how to play," Y/N said, a little nervous. She didn't want to look like an idiot in front of Dustin's incredibly hot friend.
"I'll teach ya, baby. Come sit." He patted the cushion next to him, excitement in his stomach as she shuffled towards him. She tried to fight off the blush on her cheeks from the nickname.
She sat next to him and tried to listen to his instructions, but her nose caught his scent and traveled to her brain. All she could focus on was how amazing he smelled, how his T-shirt fit him in all the right places, and how his jeans touched her legs.
"Ready?" He asked, his head turned to look at her. She felt her breath get stuck in her throat, she had no idea what to do. She coughed and snapped herself back into reality. "let's do it!" She smiled.
Within the first five minutes, Eddie could sense she was struggling, he reached over and held his hand over hers. His fingers and thumbs pressed her fingers into the correct buttons. Again his scent filled her nose and his hair tickled her neck.
His hands felt warm and rough, but she liked it.
"See, you got it!" Eddie encouraged, slowly taking his hands off hers as she focused on the game. She was playing it by herself and successfully!
"Like this?" She asked but her eyes were still on the screen. His head turned as he looked at her. "like that" he whispered.
She turned her head to look back at him and held her breath when she noticed how close their faces were. She bit her lip as his eyes looked at her lips, her eyes, and back to her lips. She couldn't help but look at his lips as well. They were so pink and looked so soft.
"Did good?" She breathed out, her eyes still on his lips.
"Very good." He whispered, his right hand cupped her cheek and he slowly leaned in. He smiled as her eyes fluttered shut and her head moved forward. He closed his eyes and killed the space between them. His lips were on hers as he softly tasted her. He felt a fire burning in his stomach and fuzziness all over his body. Her hand slipped from the controller and moved to his chest. Her palms rested against him as she kissed back.
"ALL DONE!" Dustin screamed, causing Y/N to jump back and shuffle over. Eddie groaned in disappointment as Dustin interrupted.
"I'll leave you boys to it." She said softly with a smile, her fingertips touching her lips as she stood up, a little dazed.
"Can I get your number? Maybe take you on a date?" Eddie asked before his chance was up.
"Oh absolutely. I'll go write it down." She said as she rushed to the kitchen. Eddie couldn't help but keep his eyes on her as she walked away.
"That excited to play?" Dustin asked, seeing the huge smile on Eddie's face.
"Very damn excited," Eddie said, his smile never leaving as Dustin pressed play.
Eddie scored a date with the babysitter.
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queenie-ofthe-void · 5 months ago
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Hear Me Out, Keep Me Guessing
Steddie || wc: 2.5k || rating: T || tags: alternate first meeting, pre-S4, Eddie is a rollercoaster of emotions, Steve is over it, fluff and flirting || ao3
Inspired by my own post
☆☆☆
“Okay, Munson. What’s your fucking problem?”
Eddie hops on top of the wooden picnic bench to gain a slight height advantage over whoever’s decided to fuck up his day, when he spots none other than Steve Harrington headed towards him through the trees, fighting his way through brush and bramble.
“Well, well, well. How the mighty have fallen. Crawling through the dirt just to visit his former court jester.” Eddie smirks, hears Harrington mutter something under his breath that sounds a lot like jesus christ before he finally makes his way over.
Harrington’s looking up at him, squinting into the sunlight, and Eddie’s slightly repelled by his sudden desire to run a hand through King Steve’s hair. It shines in the sunlight, matching the flecks of gold in his brown eyes.
Eddie takes a step to the left, casting him back into shadow again where he’s just his normal, asshole self and not the angelic image Eddie conjured from his horny, queer little brain.
He can’t remember if it’s his turn to talk or Harrington’s, but it seems the King’s lost the plot as well. Completely zoned out, he’s just standing there staring up at Eddie, mouth dropped open and eyes wide in a way Eddie will certainly not be thinking about later tonight. Absolutely not.
Eddie coughs. Loud and obnoxious enough to break whatever trance they’ve found themselves in. Harrington awkwardly chuckles, running a hand through his hair. An image of Steve leaning against lockers, towering over a girl with heat in his eyes and a hand in his hair floods Eddie’s brain before he can shake it out like an Etch A Sketch. What the fuck is even happening to him?
“Yeah, Munson. Like, what the hell is your problem?” It lacks punch and drama the second time around, but it gets them back on track. Harrington props his hands on his hips, his lip juts out into a tiny pout, and Eddie wonders if he thinks standing like a disappointed mom is effective in getting what he wants, or if being adorable just comes naturally to the former King.
“You’ll have to be more specific, my liege.” He watches as Harrington brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration and he makes a mental note to develop a better, more refined taste in men.
“The kids, man. Why aren’t you friends with the kids?”
“Kids? What the hell– what kids?” He hops down from the table. If this is going to be a legitimate conversation and not a shake down, he figures it’ll be easier on even footing. Harrington takes the seat opposite him, his shoe accidentally knocking Eddie’s ankle.
Steve doesn’t move his foot. Neither does Eddie.
“My kids, man. They said they tried talking to you all week and you wouldn’t even hear them out!”
Eddie watches his fingers tap absently on the table top. He’s biting the inside of his cheek, and it’s shocking that Eddie is just now realizing that Steve’s actually anxious. Normally Eddie considers himself better at reading people, when he’s not distracted with puffy, pink lips and a confusing line of conversation.
He looks down, rewinding the past week. He’d made it through his first week of his third senior year without anyone getting in his face. Maybe he’s old enough now that even asshole seniors like Jason Carver have decided to leave him alone. Thankfully it seems the offer also extends to Gareth, Kenny, and Jeff, who’ve only reported minor name calling and a light shove.
That’s where he spots them, stops the tape midway through lunch on Wednesday when a group of three freshmen approached the table. He’d spotted the curly-haired kid earlier in the week, bravely decked out in a Weird Al shirt and a hat from some science camp. The kid was enough of a freak to earn free admission to Hellfire, but the other two required a bit more thought.
Eddie clocked Little Wheeler through the station wagon window Monday morning when he’d cut Nancy off in the parking lot. The kid seemed alright, but with a priss like Nancy as a sister, it was a tough call. The other kid seemed a bit too sporty, and a little too interested in basketball tryouts.
When the three amigos started talking DnD, the guys invited them with open arms. It was a relatively peaceful lunch. Exciting even, at the prospect of adding new members to their campaign. They’d mentioned trying to convince a few of their friends to play. A girl named Max Mayfield, who turns out lives a few trailers down from Eddie.
But when the curly-haired kid mentioned Steve Harrington, the Hellfire boys clammed up tighter than nun’s ass. His named dripped from their mouths like it was covered in gold, the hero-worship rotting them from the inside and Eddie wouldn’t stand for it. No true freaks would stand to be friends with an asshole bully like King Steve.
Of course the freshies tried to argue, saying he’d changed. It didn’t matter to the Hellfire boys. Clearly the freshmen were corrupted, and they couldn’t be trusted. So he’d sent them on their way, and the three of them posted up in the corner of the lunchroom every day since. Far away from jocks and freaks alike.
Now, Eddie looks across the table and sees false bravado slathered over the anxiety etched into the former King’s face. He doesn’t know how three freshmen freaks found themselves under the wing of Steve Harrington, but it seems the feeling is mutual. Steve cares about these kids.
“Yeah,” Eddie says, “I remember them. What’s it to you, Harrington? Aren’t they a little too old for a babysitter.” The joke falls flat when Steve sighs, heavy and exhausted, like somehow a rich boy from the Loch carries the entire world on his shoulders.
But he plays it off, trying to meet Eddie’s quip halfway. “Babysitters get paid, dude. I do it from the goodness of my heart or some shit.” Steve leans back, scrubs his hands over his face like he can erase whatever’s behind his eyes.
Eddie stares at him, hoping to catch a glimpse. The only consolation is Steve puts his other foot on the opposite side of Eddie’s, his ankle now fully cradled between Steve’s.
“They’re nerds, man.” Harrington states it like it’s a fact and not an insult he’s hurled at Eddie a hundred times over the years. “They’re freaks, you know– like you.”
Moment officially broken, Eddie scoffs, pushing away from the table wondering why he ever entertained talking with Harrington in the first place. As he grabs his lunchbox off the forest floor, he hears shuffling behind him.
“Wait,” Harrington shouts. “Just, fuck man, can you just let me finish?”
“Finish what, exactly?” Eddie snaps, whirling around to crowd into his space. He wears big and scary like how the King wears his crown and how assassins wield their blades. With enough power and confidence to scare off any enemy. “Finish listening to you shit on the little guy? Listen to you harp on the freaks of the world, or how you corrupted your little pions?”
“What?” Steve asks, lips pursed and eyebrows scrunched. Eddie’s not surprised his jock-rattled brain couldn’t find that word in its very limited dictionary, but what does surprise him is that Steve doesn’t back down. They’re practically nose to nose, so close Eddie can spot a small freckle on his lash-line, and Steve’s standing here like he doesn't have a care in the world while Eddie screams in his face.
It’s quiet again. He can hear the rustle of tall grass and birds overhead. He can feel Steve’s breath on his lips and Eddie can’t remember what they were talking about. Again.
Steve grabs his shoulders, and in his daze, Eddie lets himself be maneuvered back to sitting at the picnic table, while Steve stands in front of him.
“Are you always big and loud and obnoxious? Can you just cut the shit for like, five minutes so we can have a normal fucking conversation. Jesus christ, you’re practically perfect for them.” The last part is quieter, seems more like an unfiltered afterthought.
“Ok,” Eddie says. If Steve’s willing to take the crown off long enough to talk with Eddie, then maybe he can shed his own metaphorical battle vest. “Say what you have to say, then.”
Steve clears his throat, shuffles slightly as he gains his footing. He looks at Eddie with a determined set to his shoulders.
“Henderson, Sinclair, and even Wheeler– they’re my kids. I’ve spent the last nine months watching out for those little shits because all they’re good at is getting into the worst kinds of trouble.” Eddie tracks him as Steve paces the forest floor, rambling and raking a hand through his hair like it helps him think. “But I remembered you didn’t graduate, right? And you run that Dungeons and Dragons club–”
“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie interrupts. Steve stops, turns to face him, and shoots him the bitchiest glare Eddie’s ever seen, but before he can say anything, Eddie pushes on. “You, Steve Harrington, King of Hawkins High, leader of meatheads and bimbos alike, know what Dungeons and Dragons is?”
Steve sighs, hands back on his hips as he rolls his eyes. “Ha ha, Munson. Don’t worry it’s all against my will, okay? I’m not coming to steal your freaks and weirdos so I can lead them too.” He smirks, and it pulls a laugh out of Eddie, shocked that Steve’s willing to joke around with Eddie at all, let alone when it’s at his own expense.
“Now, quit interrupting me, you’re as bad as Henderson.”
Eddie mimes zipping his lips closed, only to open his mouth to swallow the imaginary key. Butterflies explode in his chest at the sound of Steve laughter, and Eddie wonders if bashing his head into a tree would be a decent excuse to explain the red flush erupting on his face.
“Anyways,” Steve chuckles. “They’re smart as shit but don’t know when to give something up just to get out of a fight. I’m surprised they haven’t gotten their asses handed to them already, and everyday I pick them up all I'm thinking about is which one of them I’m gonna have to stitch up. Sure, some of the guys in the grade below were alright, like Andy. But guys like Hargrove, like Carver.” Eddie can practically see the dark cloud form over Steve’s brow.
He remembers as well as anyone the fallout of Harrington v Hargrove, Fall 1985. There’d been endless rumors about what happened, each one more ridiculous than the last. Now he’s left wondering if it’s not really about Nancy, or drugs, or Billy fucking Steve’s mom, but about these kids. The timing checks out, nine months on babysitting duties lines up pretty well with when Steve showed up to school beaten and broken.
Maybe Steve isn’t all he seems to be.
“Guys like Carver won’t mess with you. They’re too scared you’re using DnD to worship the devil and get kids into sodomy and drugs and shit like that. I told them that you’d be cool. That you’re big and loud, that you play DnD like them. You're smart and you read the same nerdy books. I told them they’d be safe with you, man.” Steve rubs his face again, until his hands fall to the sides and he tilts his head up towards the sky. “I just need to know someone’s looking out for them. Please, Eddie, just–”
“Okay.”
Steve’s attention snaps back to him, relief written plain as day in the wide set of his smile. “You’re serious?”
Eddie can’t help but smile back. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Steve smile so unguarded, and never aimed his way. The sheer brightness of it fills him with warmth he wants to wrap himself up in.
All on top of the fact Eddie's never gotten this many compliments from anyone before, let alone from a guy as gorgeous as Steve Harrington. His ears are practically on fire.
“Yeah, Harrington. I’ll share custody of your little nuggets.” Before he knows what’s coming, Steve sweeps him up into a hug, lifts him fully off the ground and can feel the tinkling of his laughter on the shell of his ear.
“Thanks, Munson. Damn, you have no idea how freaked out I’ve–”
“What about the other stuff?” Eddie can’t stop himself from asking. He has to know, deep in his bones, that Steve is thinking this through. That Steve won’t change his mind in a few days or months and decide it’s time for Eddie Munson to eat dirt.
He lets Eddie go, but holds his shoulders at arms length to look him in the eye. Any lingering mirth has been replaced with intent curiosity. “What stuff, Munson?”
He can tell by Steve’s tone they’re both talking about the same thing. Rumors that’ve haunted Eddie since eighth grade after Davey Richardson beat him up under the bleachers. It didn’t matter that Davey kissed him first, all that mattered was he was popular and Eddie was weird.
He’d grown numb to the slurs over the years, but how could he forget hearing the reason why Byers beat the shit out of King Steve. The only surprise from that fight was it sounded like he never even tried to fight back.
“Harrington, if I don’t get to act loud and obnoxious, then you don’t get to play dumb.” The intensity of Steve’s stare reminds him of the few conversations he’d had with Chief Hopper before he’d died. The man could tear Eddie down to the bones with one glare, and he’s sure it’s the only reason the Chief brought him back to the trailer instead of a jail cell.
“Eddie,” Steve says, tone firm, “I’m not that guy anymore. I don’t care about the shit people say, especially self-righteous assholes like Carver. The only thing I give a shit about is you watching over the little gremlins and not selling them drugs, so I can breathe easier when I don't have eyes on them.”
Steve shakes him lightly, like it’ll sift this world-changing view into his brain, then pats his shoulder as he passes by him.
“Wait,” Eddie shouts, always a glutton for punishment. He spins around to catch Steve walking backwards away from him, hands in his pockets, effortlessly cool. The sun’s catching his hair again and there’s a smirk on his lips. “You really don’t care?”
Steve laughs, taking a step back. He chews on his bottom lip, and he smiles when he catches Eddie looking. Because he knows. Steve knows now, before Jeff or Wayne or anyone else.
“Eddie, whoever you decide to love or fuck– or not– is none of my business.” He turns to leave, and as Eddie relaxes he hears Steve call out, “unless you want it to be.”
Steve’s light laughter follows him out of the woods, and Eddie plops himself down in the same spot on the same wooden bench in the exact same forest as he always does every Friday after school. Except a twenty minute conversation with Steve Harrington leaves Eddie feeling like his world's been turned upside down.
Maybe ‘86 will be his year, after all.
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worth-the-chaos · 1 year ago
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Adventures in Babysitting Masterlist (ongoing)
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Series Summary: As Dustin’s babysitter, you encounter the perils of the Upside Down as you try desperately to rid Hawkins of the evil lurking just below the surface. However, you’re not alone; you have the gaggle of kids as well as the one and only Steve Harrington by your side as you risk your lives attempting to solve the mysteries of your once quiet rural town | steve harrington x fem!reader (message me to be added to the taglist!)
Chapter summaries and links below the cut!
SEASON 1
Part 1 - You haven’t been babysitting Dustin for very long. Underestimating his tendencies for rebellious behavior, you realize too late that he’s snuck out, with your dire search for the boy leading you to the last place you wanted to be: Steve Harrington’s house. | Word Count: 6.5k
SEASON 2
Part 2 - With the events of last fall in the past, you attempt to move on, still working on your academics and babysitting Dustin. You and Steve have drifted since your encounter with the otherworldly, but he begins to make more active efforts to talk to you, making sure you have an invite to Tina’s big Halloween party. | Word Count: 6.3k
Part 3 - Billy is still hitting on you, Steve’s still mad, and Dustin’s still a pain in the ass to babysit. When he tells you and Steve that there’s a massive problem of upside down proportions, the two of you have no choice but to drop everything to help the boy, reprising your roles as badasses who eradicate the supernatural in Hawkins. | Word Count: 7.0k
Part 4 - Looking for Dart isn’t easy, but it gives you and Steve a lot of time to have a heart to heart, as you slowly start to realize your feelings for one another. | Word Count: 6.5k
Part 5 - The situation with the demogorgons gets increasingly more dire, leading you to the Byers’ house to wrangle four kids that can’t listen to save their lives (literally) while everyone tries desperately to save Will and the world. | Word Count: 8.9k
SEASON 3
Part 6 - It’s summer, and you and Steve are working at Scoops Ahoy so that you can make money while Dustin is at summer camp. The lines between friends and something more continue to blur as your relationship with Steve gets more intimate, allowing doubt to creep in…and the Russians are invading Hawkins. | Word Count: 6.4k
Part 7 - You continue attempting to translate the code, commencing your operation to determine the nature of Russian involvement in Hawkins. Robin and Dustin continue their attempts to push the two of you together, tired of the mutual pining…oh and Erica has enough sass to probably take out an entire Russian army. | Word Count: 5.9k
Part 8 - Well, the five of you do get in that secret room, but the problem is you can’t quite find a way out. Tensions rise as you realize the gravity of the situation, the forced proximity revealing hard feelings between you and Steve. | Word Count: 7.2k
Part 9 - Held captive by the Russians, tensions rise and as you and Steve attempt to navigate communicating in a drugged up haze, your feelings for each other become even more apparent. | Word Count: 7.4k
Part 10 - The Russian invasion and the upside down begin to merge as you meet up with the rest of the crew. You are in the fight of your lives as you scramble to try to stop the monstrous creature from the upside down before it destroys you. | Word Count: 5.8k
SEASON 4
Part 11 - Steve and you are finally officially dating, the kids are finally in high school and no longer need any sort of official babysitting, and life is overall pretty damn good. You try to push aside the unease settling in your chest, but how long can you ignore it before it manifests into something much worse than you could possibly imagine? | Word Count: 6.7k
Part 12 - The evil that you thought you had gotten rid of is still very much lurking within Hawkins. You, your boyfriend, and your friends race against time to try and find Eddie before it’s too late. | Word Count: 6.5k
Part 13 - As you all attempt to connect the dots of the gruesome murders occurring around your small but sinister town, secrets start to spill when Steve realizes you’ve been keeping things from him. | Word Count: 7.2k
Part 14 - Nancy and Robin take a shot in the dark and Steve tries to protect you from the supernatural. When the darkness comes to get you, will his love be enough to protect you? | Word Count: 6.0k
Part 15 - Racing against the clock, you and your friends desperately attempt to connect the dots before it’s too late. Your efforts bring both progress and peril as you and your boyfriend dive headfirst into life-threatening scenarios in order to save each other. | Word Count: 8.8k
Part 16 - For all your encounters with the Upside Down you hadn’t had to deal with it directly. Now, in a fight in foreign territory, you and your friends must struggle to find your way back to the Hawkins that you are familiar with. | Word Count: 9.7k
Part 17 - After finding out more information about Vecna, you and your friends prepare for the worst, and tensions rise as you mentally prepare for the possibility of a future without you in it. | Word Count: 7.7k
Part 18 - You venture into the Upside Down once again in an attempt to find Vecna and stop him in his tracks before he can bring about the end of the world as you know it. With Steve and your friends by your side, you fight against time to get to Vecna before he can get to you. | Word Count: 7.2k
SEASON 5
Coming soon!
BLURBS
Steve takes care of your injuries | Word Count: 2.2k
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brbsoulnomming · 26 days ago
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Heart On Your Sleeve Part 7
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!
-----
Steve's half asleep on the couch when Dustin arrives the next day, and Robin lets him in.
“Hearts out,” Dustin demands immediately.
Steve winces. “Not a good idea, bud. My ribs are-”
“It's not your ribs,” Dustin interrupts. “You think I didn't see some blood when you were waving your heart around? Don't treat me like a baby, Steve, come on.”
Robin looks at him, and Steve shrugs.
“Okay,” he says, and Robin takes his heart out from her chest.
It looks better than it did yesterday, but it's still pretty pulpy, and Dustin goes pale.
“Steve,” he whispers, voice cracking.
“It's getting better,” Steve promises.
Dustin frowns, looking between him and Robin. “Are you having trouble breathing again? Why is Robin holding it?”
“It heals better when someone else has it,” Steve says. “Some kind of science thing.”
Dustin's frown deepens, then smooths out, and he holds his hands out to Robin. “My turn.”
“Dustin, I'm not going to ask you to-” Steve starts.
“You can't ask, I'm telling you I'm going to,” Dustin retorts. “I'm the first person who carried it, remember?”
Steve looks at Robin. She shrugs, and he can feel that she's not opposed to it, so he shrugs back. She hands his heart over to Dustin. There's some fumbling as Steve gives Robin's heart back to her and takes Dustin's instead, and then -
Huh.
Dustin is just as stubborn as he's always seemed, but underneath that is a quiet fear and a sense of love deeper than anything Steve's ever felt - other than from Robin.
“Come here.”
Steve gives him a hug - or as much of a hug as he can manage - then leans back on the couch again. “Breakfast's in the kitchen,” he says, already closing his eyes.
The next time he opens them, it's to the sound of half a dozen gremlins talking in what's probably supposed to be hushed tones.
“How did you all even get in here?” he asks.
They jump, then Dustin juts his chin out.
“I called them,” he says.
“We are here to help,” El says solemnly.
“Dustin told us what happened,” Lucas says.
Steve grimaces. “Look, you guys don't have to-”
“Will it work?” El asks.
Steve blinks at her. “Will what work?”
“If I try to heal your heart. Dustin says he looked it up, and it works best if it's someone you care about. Am I?”
Oh, that's just cheating. How is he supposed to protest with those eyes looking at him.
“Yeah, Ellie, of course you are. It'll work.”
She holds out her hands determinedly. "I don't have my powers. I couldn't save my - my dad, but I can do this. I can help you."
And that's that.
The next thing he knows, they've scheduled up a rotation along with Robin, and taken over his house, setting themselves up to watch TV or play games or do whatever else.
He finds himself alone with El, and he looks at her for a moment before asking, “Do you like cookies?”
Of course she likes cookies.
Steve can't actually do much work, but he can sit at the kitchen table and give directions, and she determinedly follows all of them as she puts together cookie dough.
He can feel the rough edges of her grief and her hopelessness, and he tries to give back as much support as he can.
She isn't alone.
“May I ask you something?” she asks, when a batch of cookies are in the oven and they're eating cookie dough.
“Sure,” he says.
“Dustin is not your brother.”
That's not a question, but he answers it anyway. “Not the way Mike is Nancy's brother or Will is Jonathan's, no.”
She frowns. “I don't understand,” she admits. “Mike says you are brave. That he likes you better now that you're not Nancy's boyfriend. I thought - you are like Mike.”
Oh, he is definitely remembering that for later. “Like Mike how?”
“Mike stepped off of a cliff for Dustin.”
Steve's brain screeches to a halt. “Mike what?”
“There were mouth breathers - bullies. They threatened to hurt Dustin if Mike didn't jump. He did. I caught him,” she's quick to reassure him, like that's what he's stuck on. “So - I thought you are like Mike. You protect your friends.”
“Like you, too,” Steve says, deciding to table the whole Mike thing for now. “You protect your friends.”
She smiles at him, a tiny, fleeting thing before her face scrunches in confusion. “But Max and Dustin and Lucas were not always your friends. Max says you jumped in front of a demodog the day you met her. I don't understand.”
Yeah, Steve's not sure he really understands either - a feeling she must pick up, because she looks even more confused.
“I just - wanted to help.” It sounds even lamer than it did when he said that about cleaning up the graffiti at the theater, but it's what he's got. “Maybe - we don't have to be like anyone, you know? We can just be like us. We can just want to help.”
Her expression smooths out, and he can feel - she kind of likes that.
“What I like,” she says, which is clearly a call back to something else with the way she's feeling, though he has no idea what.
It's okay. He doesn't really have to know what, he thinks - they understand each other.
And they have cookies.
He calls Mrs. Byers, just to make sure she knows where Will and El are.
She does, of course, but he also wants to check on her.
Her voice is unsteady and thick with grief, but she tells him not to worry about her, asks how the kids are doing, how he is.
He doesn't want to worry her, either, but he tells her what the kids’ plan is, how hard they're trying to help him.
How guilty he feels about it.
She's gentle when she tells him to let them help, that they care about him and they want to be able to do something good. He promises he will, and that he'll look after them.
He wishes he could do more.
Mike's up next, like he wants to get it over with.
Steve wants to tease him about the whole thinking he's brave thing, but when he's hit with everything Mike feels - worry and love and pride and protectiveness and how can I keep them all safe what am I supposed to do, he finds he doesn't want to give him a hard time.
Mike's angry at him, but he's angry at him because he's scared. Because he doesn't want to like him, doesn't want to trust him, but he does.
Mike likes him a whole lot, actually.
And Steve guesses that Mike can feel his own slightly amused fondness, because the kid scowls at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” Steve replies.
He thinks for a while, while Mike sullenly sits at the kitchen table with him and pretends like Steve doesn't know that he actually has feelings.
Eventually, even though he knows it's going to get him scoffed at, he says, “Do you know why teams have co-captains?”
Mike rolls his eyes. “Because they're too stupid to figure out how to play themselves?”
He tamps down on his irritation, though he knows not quickly enough, because Mike looks smug.
“So there's more than one person to make the hard choices. So if one person can't be there, the other can. So no one has to be in two places at once. So one person doesn't have to be everything to everyone,” Steve continues.
Mike scoffs, but Steve can still feel that it resonates with him. “Your stupid sports game is way less important than real life danger.”
“Yeah, sure. But so is your dragons game, and you guys use that all the time.”
He can feel that Mike wants to protest, though he also reluctantly thinks that Steve's right.
“So, what, you think we should pick captains for our Party?” Mike asks.
“Nah. You're already the party leader, right?” Steve asks. He knows that's how Mike sees himself, knows that's the pressure he puts on himself.
Now more than ever.
“But last time and this time, we had to split up, right? And you can't be everywhere.”
“You don't get it,” Mike says. “It's my job to protect them. How am I supposed to do it if I can't look out for everyone?”
“You get some help. Look - that's what I'm here for, all right? Let me help watch out for you guys.”
Mike snorts. “You?”
Steve raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, I think it's worked out so far.”
Mike glances away. Whatever he's thinking of, there's the faint memory of fear and an unbidden, reluctant wash of relief, of safety.
“Fine,” he mutters. “Whatever, you're in the Party.”
Steve doesn't point out that he's already been in it, according to some of them. He has a feeling that's the most he's going to get out of Mike, for now.
It's enough.
It's easy, with Max and Lucas.
Probably easier than it should be.
He and Max swap, and he sits with her angry, confused grief. He can feel her daring him to say something, so - he doesn't.
He opens his arms, and he says, “Come here,” and she's exhausted enough that she does.
He hugs her tight while she cries into his chest, angry with herself for crying and angry with Billy for being so terrible and saving her life anyway. Angry with Steve, too, but that one's too complicated for him to figure out with the echoes of the feelings he gets from her.
“I'm here,” he says after a while, even though it makes her cry harder. “I'm right here.”
He sits with Lucas, after, staring at the door where El and Max have retreated to try to get some sleep.
“I don't know how to help her,” Lucas says.
He doesn't sound lost, but his heart beats in Steve's chest, and he can feel it anyway.
“Me either,” Steve admits, because he knows Lucas can feel it from him, too.
“What am I supposed to do?” Lucas asks.
Steve thinks for a moment. “Be there for her. Don't push her, but make sure she knows you're there. That you're not going anywhere.”
Some of the helplessness fades, and Lucas nods.
“Yeah, I can do that.”
They're quiet for a little bit.
“I want to try out for the basketball team,” Lucas says suddenly, then shoots an almost shy little look over at Steve at his pleased surprise.
“That's awesome, man. You want to get some more practice in after a few weeks?” Steve asks.
Lucas nods, then hesitates. “I don't think that Mike and Dustin and Will are going to like it.”
Steve frowns. “They like me okay.”
“Well, yeah, but that's different. We used to think you were a douchebag.”
It startles a laugh out of Steve. “Wow, thanks, Sinclair.”
Lucas shrugs, unapologetic. “We know you aren't now. But they're going to think I'm abandoning them.”
Steve considers. “Are you?”
“No! I'll still play D&D and stuff with them, we'll still be the Party. I want to prove you can do both. I want - I don't want people to mess with them. I want to do what you did.”
Steve swallows, suddenly a little choked up. He wishes he could blame it on his injuries, but he knows damn well Lucas can feel how touched he is.
“You're gonna be great, man,” he says when he has himself more under control. “You're gonna be way better than I ever was.”
When Will's up in the little rotation the gremlins have worked out, he lingers a few steps away, hesitant.
"Hey, man, you don't have to," Steve says awkwardly. "I can tell the other gremlins that you're needed at home."
Will looks at him for a moment. "Do I count?"
"What?" Steve asks.
"You didn't hunt a demodog with me, or barricade a bus in a junkyard, or fight off a bully, or go to the Upside Down tunnels, or invade a Russian bunker. You just let me into movies for free and let me hang out at your house with everyone. Is that enough?" Will's tone had been very matter of fact, but it goes a little bit more tenuous there.
"Yeah," Steve says. "Yeah, it is."
Will comes up to the table, holding his hands out expectantly, and Steve drops his heart into them.
It doesn't hurt, but by now, he doesn't expect it to. Steve's not sure he'll ever be able to thank any of the kids for this, but if Joyce is right, if being able to do something helps them after everything they just went through, then he guesses he's glad for that.
The awkwardness lingers a little after they've exchanged hearts. Probably because now they can feel an echo of each other's feelings. It makes Steve scramble for a topic.
"Mike and Lucas apologize to you yet?" Steve asks.
Will looks at him in confusion. "What for?"
"You think I didn't notice they've been kind of shitty? My money's on Mike being more insensitive about it, but Lucas has been right there with him, you know? Ditching Dustin half the time since he's been back, and before that it was always you playing fifth wheel."
Will looks a little surprised. “How'd you even notice that?”
"Because the same thing happened to me," Steve admits.
"I doubt it," Will mutters.
"It did!" Steve insists. "I had two best friends growing up. Then in middle school, they started dating, and suddenly every time we hung out I was the third wheel. It drove me nuts at first."
Will frowns. "Wait, but. You were always dating girls."
"Well, yeah, because I knew I was supposed to. I did a lot of things because it was what I was supposed to do." Steve'd liked all of them well enough, enjoyed dating them - especially once he started having sex and realized how good at it he could be - but he's not going to pretend like there isn't a reason his relationships didn't last very long.
Nancy'd been the only one he could see a forever with.
The kid's brows furrow, like he's not really sure what to do with that information.
"My point is-” Steve points at him with his spoon. “-don't let them rush you, or make you feel like you have to do something you don't want to do just to fit in with them. They're a lot better friends than mine were; they'll understand."
Will considers that. "Jonathan says I should never like something just because people tell me I should. That it's okay that I'm a freak, because he's a freak, too.”
“Yeah?” Steve asks. “What'd you say back?”
Will scrunches his nose. “I asked if that was why he didn't have any friends.”
He shouldn't, but Steve gives a little snort of laughter. Oh, no, Will is funny.
“Your brother has friends,” Steve protests, to counter his laughter. “He's got Nancy and me.”
Will rolls his eyes. “Nancy's his girlfriend.”
“Point in your favor,” Steve admits. “Still leaves me. And Robin will be his friend.”
Will toys with an apple from the fruit basket on the island. “Are you and Jonathan even really friends? It's not like you guys hang out.”
“Ouch, Byers, I thought you were the nice one,” Steve says, giving the kid a fond little smile to show he doesn't mean it. “There's different kinds of friends, I guess. Did, uh. Did Jonathan ever tell you how I got involved with all this?”
“Not really.” Will says with a shrug. “Just that you and him and Nancy fought a demogorgon.”
“That's because your brother's a good guy,” Steve tells him, then nudges the chair across from him.
It only moves a handful of inches, making Steve grimace - he'd wanted to kick it all the way out from under the table, but clearly he's not at full kicking strength. Still, it does the job, and Will takes a seat.
“I saw Nancy and Jonathan together on her bed one night, when she and I had just started dating. She couldn't tell me about the Upside Down stuff yet, but I knew she was lying, and I thought they were seeing each other behind my back.”
Will's looking at him, eyes huge, and it makes guilt twist in his stomach at the thought of what he said to Jonathan that day.
“We got in a fight the next day,” Steve admits. “I was really mean to him. So I went to your house later to apologize, and that's when I stumbled in on him and Nancy setting their trap. I gotta tell you, it was a really rude awakening, getting my apology speech interrupted by a demogorgon.”
“Try getting your bike ride home interrupted by one,” Will says dryly.
For a moment, Steve wonders if he should feel guilty bringing it up and potentially traumatizing the kid, but - Will doesn't look like he wants to be tiptoed around, and he can feel the faint trepidation from the kid's heart beating in his chest. The fear that someone's going to treat you different.
So Steve snorts instead. “Okay, you've got me beat,” he concedes. “You win the gold medal of demogorgon attacks.”
“Thanks.” It's just as dry, but Will's smiling at Steve like he said the right thing, so he'll take it. “Do I get an actual medal?”
Steve gives a surprised little laugh. “You know what? Sure. Come on.”
His pace is slow as he heads upstairs, and out of the corner of his eye, he's pretty sure he sees Will's hands twitch like he's debating trying to help him up. Steve resolutely ignores it until they get to his room, and then he unearths his first place medal from the medley swimming relay in eighth grade.
“Hang on, let me-” Steve digs around for some duct tape and a sharpie, then slaps a strip of tape on the back of the medal, pressing it down to get it to stick well. He writes demogorgan attack on the tape, blows on it to get it to dry, then hands it to Will with all the solemnity as if he was actually presenting him with a first place medal.
“Oh my God,” Will says, looking a little gobsmacked. “You're a nerd. You're one of us!”
“Hey! You spread that around, and I'll take your medal back!” Steve threatens.
“No way,” Will retorts. “Come back when you get dragged into the Upside Down by a demogorgon for dinner.”
“No thanks,” Steve says. “It's all yours.”
Will is beaming at him, and Steve kind of hates to ruin the mood - but he also really has to sit down. The downside to having them all on a rotation of heart exchanges is that he can't hide when it gets really bad.
He sits down on his bed while he can still do it without just dropping down onto the mattress. Will watches him for a moment, then carefully sits on the bed too, a foot or so away from him.
“So - that's why you and Jonathan are friends? You apologized and you fought a monster together?” Will asks.
“Yeah, I guess so. Look, there's different kinds of friends, right? There's the friends you have because you share a class together, or the ones you play the same sport - or, uh, hobby with, or the ones you just hang out with sometimes. And then there's the good ones, the ones who know you. Jonathan and I might not hang out outside of school, but I know he's got my back, and I've got his. Any time he needed me, I'd be right there.”
His feelings about Jonathan are - complicated, but that's the truth. Whatever else, Steve cares about the guy a hell of a lot, trusts him like he trusts very few others.
Steve's not sure what Will can pick up from him, but it must be enough to convince him that Steve's sincere, because he just quietly says, “Oh.”
“That goes for you, too,” Steve tells him. “Okay? You need me, I'm there.”
Will's cheeks go just a little pink, and there's a faint flutter of some kind in his heart, but Steve can't really tell what it is. “Okay.”
They're quiet for a moment, but it's not really awkward anymore - or at least, not beyond Steve trying to figure out how long before he's going to be able to get himself back downstairs without leaning on anyone.
“Did you date Nancy because you were supposed to?” Will asks after a while.
“Nancy's different,” Steve replies automatically, hearing an echo of himself saying the same thing to Dustin the day they were looking for Dart, and knowing it's just as true now as it was then, even if he's over her now - or as over her as he thinks he'll ever be.
Will mulls that over. “So - I might find a girl one day that's different, even if I've never liked girls before?”
There's something about the way that Will says it that sends him back into the Starcourt bathroom with Robin, watching her stare at him as he said but Tammy Thompson's a girl, waiting for it to click into place for him, and -
Oh.
Oh, shit.
Oh, shit, he thinks he's accidentally implied something he didn't really mean to imply here. He thinks about trying to stutter out a clarification, that when Steve said he did it because he was supposed to, he didn't mean that he didn't like girls - he loves girls, girls are fantastic -
But.
But there's Eddie.
Will's voice had been so small, and whatever he can feel from Steve's heart in his chest is making his eyes go wide and scared, and it -
“Maybe,” Steve finds himself saying before he really knows what he's talking about. “But maybe not. And that's - that's okay. Whoever you like, or don't like, whoever you want to date or not date, it's okay.”
Steve pauses, feels like that isn't enough, and scrunches his face up. “Unless they're like, objectively terrible. If you get a crush on some little asshole, I can and will make fun of you.”
There's a ghost of a smile there. “Like Dustin and Suzie?” he asks.
“Way worse than Dustin and Suzie,” Steve says. “I had to be nice about Suzie, because everyone thought Dustin was making her up. I'm talking no holds barred here.”
"Do you think that guy's dead?"
Steve doesn't have to ask what guy Dustin means. He grimaces a little, because even if he wanted to, there's no way he can lie with their hearts in each other's chests. "We blew up their lab, man, I think most of them are dead."
Dustin frowns, looking like he's not sure if he thinks that's a good enough answer.
"I guess," he says finally. Then, so quietly Steve can barely hear it, Dustin asks, "Am I a bad person?"
"What?" Steve asks, thrown. "You've saved the world how many times now?"
Dustin gives him a look. "The same amount of times that you have."
Steve bumps Dustin's shoulder with the back of his knuckles. "Saved Nancy and Jonathan, maybe, but not sure how much world saving I did the first time. You got one up on me."
Dustin rolls his eyes. "Basically the same."
"All right, all right," Steve says. "We've saved the world a few times. Bad people don't usually do that."
Dustin fiddles with the hem of his shirt. "Billy did. Kind of. He helped, at the end. Does that make him a good person?"
Shit, Steve is way too concussed for this.
"No," he says after a little while. "I don't think so. Maybe if he had more time, but I don't think one good thing that he did while he was already dying makes up for all the other bad things he did."
Dustin screws up his face in concentration, then nods. "Me too."
Steve'd really like to just end the conversation there, but he's pretty sure Dustin needs him to keep going, and, well.
He's always going to be there when Dustin needs him.
"What makes you think you're a bad person?" he asks.
Dustin stares at his hands for a little while. "I don't feel bad."
Steve tries to make sense of that for a moment, then gives up. "You lost me."
"I killed that guy," Dustin says, looking back up at him almost defiantly. "And I don't feel bad. I'm not sorry he's dead."
Guilt stabs through him so strongly that he knows Dustin must feel some of it, and he grimaces a little when Dustin frowns at him.
"What was that?" Dustin asks.
"I'm sorry that you had to do that," Steve says. "It's not fair."
Dustin scoffs. "None of this is fair."
All right, yeah, Dustin's got a point. Okay, new tactic.
"Look at me, Dust," Steve says softly.
Dustin pulls a face. "I am looking at you."
"Ugh, no, I mean look at me." Steve waves a hand at himself.
"You look like shit," Dustin tells him.
"Exactly," Steve agrees. "You know why I look like shit?"
There's an echo of something remarkably similar to the guilt Steve just felt.
"Because of me," Dustin says, voice small.
Shit.
"What? No! How is this your fault?" Steve asks.
"I pushed the Russian message thing. You only looked into it because I wanted to," Dustin says.
"That's not - I looked into it for the same reason I helped you look for Dart, okay? Because I'm in this, and we're in this together, and if there's something out there, it's going to find us. That's not your fault."
Dustin doesn't look convinced.
"There is nothing that's going to keep me away from being in this with you, okay? Even if you didn't push me. Even if you didn't even tell me. I'd find out, and then I'd be mad." He pauses. "Like, really mad. Like telling your mom you ditched me and got in trouble so she doesn't let you leave the house for a year mad."
"Okay, okay," Dustin says, but he looks happier. "So what was your point, then?"
His point?
Right, his point.
"I look like shit because of the dead guy and his buddies." Part of Steve thinks he should hedge around this, try to sugarcoat it a little, but - treating Dustin like he's a kid who can't handle this isn't going to do anything. "You saw my heart, Dustin. You think the guys who did that were just going to let me walk out of there?"
Dustin looks at him, eyes big. "No," he admits quietly.
"The only reason I'm still standing here is because of you. I mean it, man - I'd be dead without you. And it sucks that you had to do that, and I wish I could have been faster or better, saved you from being the one that had to, but I'm not sorry that he's dead, either. Maybe that makes me a bad person. Maybe I'm a bad person because I would do the same thing, because I'd have killed all of them to protect you and I wouldn't feel bad at all."
Dustin's lip quivers a little. "You're not a bad person, Steve."
"Neither are you," Steve tells him.
The kid's eyes look suspiciously wet. Steve shifts, straightening up a little and lifting his arms.
"Come here."
Dustin drops down onto the couch, squished into his side. Steve drapes his arm over his shoulder, gingerly hugging him, and pretending that he can't hear Dustin's quiet sniffles or feel the shake of his shoulders.
"You're like the best person I know," Steve says softly.
"You too," Dustin replies, voice a little wet. "You're gonna be okay, right?"
"Yeah. I'm gonna be fine."
His heart might not ever be the same, but with all of them trying so hard to keep it together and help it heal - it makes him feel pathetic, but he kind of thinks he might be even better.
It seems a good enough response for Dustin, who stays tucked in against his side, eyes slipping shut like he's going to fall asleep right there.
Steve wants to bitch about it, but he also doesn't want to move, so he just lets it happen.
"I used to be so jealous of Mike and Will," Dustin mutters sleepily after a while.
"Yeah?" Steve asks absently.
"All this sucks, and they had Nancy and Jonathan," Dustin says.
"Mmm," Steve agrees, feeling pretty close to sleep himself.
"I'm not anymore though."
"No?" Steve asks.
"Nah," Dustin mumbles. "You're way better than Nancy and Jonathan."
This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!
----
Part 8
Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @cryptid-system @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @persnicketysquares @samsoble @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse @breealtair @shunna @xtraordinarally @thatdamnfan @justalittledrainbamage @strangerfolks @disrespectedgoatman @amber-ambience @anxietyfulloption @thepossummoldypasta
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space-invading-pigeon · 2 years ago
Text
Everyone jokes about Steve being the babysitter or the mom friend, but no one actually appreciates everything he does until he gets sick. Steve is the epitome of a doting parent; sure, he's only twenty and the seven kids he's adopted aren't actually his in any legal way, but those kids are his pride and fucking joy. Anyone who sees Steve with those kids can tell that he loves them deeply, which is why Steve is the only person in the Party that can convince their parents to allow anything- their parents KNOW that their kids will not only be well looked after, but they'll be genuinely enjoying themselves too.
Because he's a single mom except he's actually just barely out of his teenage years with no kids, he gets a lot of shit from everyone about it; he's known almost exclusively to the Party as Mama Steve (when he isn't in earshot of course). That's all fine by Steve, he always wanted a big family and now he has it. The problems start to appear when the Party realizes that Steve Harrington flat out ignores his own needs until they're so pressing that he's physically unable to do anything.
It all starts when Robin is told by Keith, of all people, that Steve has called in sick. Robin, of course, panics and calls him, and when he doesn't answer she calls Eddie to check on him. He and Steve had gotten closer since spring break, so it wasn't unusual for a member of the party to call either Eddie or Steve to check in on the other.
Eddie checks in to find Steve Harrington, badass warrior prince incarnate, sobbing from a blanket mountain on the couch in his living room. No one has ever actually seen Steve cry before, so Eddie freaks out, but it's just the result of a high fever and watching Old Yeller by himself. After calming the sick man, Eddie managed to coax some medicine into him and call Family Video to let Robin know that, yes, Steve is alive and no, he wasn't going to die of fever, but he only manages to get Steve to sleep by reading to him (Eddie finds it disgustingly adorable, even more so later when Nancy mentions that Steve loves stories but struggles with what he calls "moving letters"). And for the next two weeks, Steve is down for the count. Joyce and Claudia Henderson take turns making sure Steve is alright (Joyce because Steve is one of Her Kids, and Claudia because Steve is the Older Son she never had) while Eddie, Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin all try to take his place.
By the end of the first day, Nancy calls it quits: Mike is a bullheaded terror who only ever seems to like Will, El, or Eddie, and even then he doesn't always listen to them, so the Wheeler siblings fight even more ferociously than usual. She can't get El or Erica to listen, either; Erica is a force to be reckoned with, and El will only nod passively before doing what she wants anyway. By the end of day three, Jonathan is out. He won't say what happened, but he told Max to be nicer to the Party one time and, ten minutes later, he was tearfully saying that the kids were little monsters.
Robin lasts longer, almost an entire week, by chattering at the kids until they give up and listen to her. She meets her match when Dustin and Erica try to commandeer the Family Video computer again: Dusting sneaks past and almost breaks the computer just trying to get to it while Erica does Erica and argues until Robin the Rambler runs out of words. The morning of day seven is very dark for her.
Eddie, through what he believes to be the universe's acknowledgement of the depth of his affection for Steve and also sheer force of will, lasts the whole two weeks, but just barely. Mike argues over everything, no matter what; Will is skittish at the best of times and disappears constantly (thankfully, not like his Upside Down episodes - the boy just can't stop getting distracted and wandering away from the group), only to reappear directly behind Eddie and scaring him into an early grave; Lucas gets frustrated easily and can never seem to find the right words to communicate his thoughts and feelings, so he snarks and lashes out before awkwardly trying to mend the situation; Erica is so completely herself that it can be dizzying when the full force of that hurricane is directed towards Eddie; Dustin practically follows Eddie around like a little duckling, demanding updates on Steve or ranting about one of his many interests; El spends most of her time with the Party learning about how girls her age act through Max or practicing her braiding on Eddie. The worst of them all, though, is Max. Despite having healed up, she's still in physical therapy to rebuild her muscle strength and dexterity, and her eyesight is bad enough now that there's talk of her getting a service animal. It isn't that she needs a little extra attention that makes her the worst, though: it's that somehow, she still chases the most mischief. Eddie has only narrowly managed to keep her from assaulting no less that nine people in the two weeks that Steve is sick, and he knows she's definitely tried to commit arson at least twice that often.
Finally, after two weeks, Steve feels better enough to return to his usual activity, and Eddie begs him to never get sick again.
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munsonfamilyband · 2 years ago
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I love the idea of Steve, who calls himself the kids babysitter having a script ready whenever anyone asks why teens need a babysitter.
All he has to say is “they’re friends with Will Byers” and it shuts everyone down.
He actually uses it on Eddie when he teases Steve about carting around the kids and Eddie gets so flustered both by how bad he fucked up (the kids are friends with a boy who got kidnapped of course their parents are worried about them) and by how attractive Steve is going full Protective Parent mode. He ends up mumbling some kind of apology and then turns to hurry away and ends up knocking over a garbage can.
The kids tease Steve mercilessly about having a crush on the guy who tripped over a giant metal trashcan the first real time they spoke and Steve just tells them to fuck off.
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 2 years ago
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Steve and Eddie are sitting down to tell Dustin that they're together.
Steve: You know how you want me and Eddie to be friends?
Dustin: Are you telling me that you two are friends now? Because if so, I told you -
Steve: No, we're more than that.
Dustin: Oh, my God! You're best friends! I knew it! See if you just listen -
Steve: No, we're more than that.
Dustin: What's more than that? Super best friends? Are you guys telling me you two are like brothers now?!
Eddie: I fucked your babysitter last night.
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infinite-orangepeel · 2 years ago
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oop i think he heard himself being called out, nobody move…
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stevesbipanic · 2 years ago
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El doesn't understand her friends sometimes.
It's to be expected she supposes, growing up in a lab there's sure to be things you don't understand about the real world.
There's things like the war of the stars and the ghost catching car that are stories her friends like. There's things like mouth breathers and bullies and jocks she thinks are a lot like papa. There's things like maths class and school projects and all the things her friends understand so easily.
Her friends are never mean about it, they show her the movies she's missed, they stand up for her against bullies and they explain their maths homework like it's fun and easy which makes her smile.
The biggest thing she doesn't understand is why her friends are mean to Steve about the same things. Steve called the funny little green man Yoba and Lucas laughed at him for two weeks. Steve was watching the sport game on tv and Mike called him a dumb jock, but Steve is nothing like papa. Steve gave Dustin the wrong change and yelled at Steve for not knowing how to count.
El doesn't understand her friends. Don't they know it was hard for Steve too. He didn't grow up in a lab but at least El had siblings growing up, Steve was all alone in that big house he has. Steve didn't have a Papa but once Steve's dad came home and they weren't allowed to see him for a week, El checked on him, Steve's dad yells a lot. Steve got to go to school, but El knows he has trouble reading the big books sometimes.
El tries to tell her friends this, but they say it's different for Steve, and that Steve doesn't mind them teasing him. El doesn't like the word teasing, Angela would tell her teachers the same word. So El helps Steve. She brings Steve over to the cabin to watch the war of the stars together, they giggle at the teddy bears. El asks Steve to teach her how to throw a basketball, she thinks jocks can be nice. El asks Steve for help with her homework, Steve's really good at dioramas. They read the big books together, el shows him how she learnt to sound out the big words, Steve smiles.
El doesn't always understand her friends, but she now she understands Steve a lot more.
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spookystarfishzombie · 6 months ago
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ashwhowrites · 10 months ago
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No cash, no problem
Summary- Y/N can't afford to pay Eddie for the night, but he has a different payment in mind
⚠️smut- oral sex and fingering ( age gap but it's all legal )
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Single milf!reader x babysitter!Eddie
~~~
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Eddie struggled to find a job, he did his dealing but he also wanted a job so Wayne could know where the money came from. But based on his appearance and reputation in the town, not many gave him the opportunity.
Then he met a stressed-out mom in a store. Way in over her head and struggling to keep her three kids in check. He helped that day and now months later, he found himself their babysitter.
Eddie adored Y/N and her kids. He met her ex, he was a total dick and a shitty dad. The kids loved him, he got along the best with the two boys. They talked about movies and video games. He got along with everyone and he had a good relationship with Y/N.
Eddie had all the kids down for bed by the time Y/N arrived. He sat on the couch as he watched the TV low. He watched as she bent over to take off her heels. She sighed deeply and ran her hand through her hair.
"Stressful night?" Eddie asked, his voice causing her to jump and turn around. A relieved smile as she noticed it was Eddie. He muted the TV as she walked over. He eyed her dress, the way her body looked amazing. Her curves are more at notice with the tightness of the material. Her perfume smelled amazing and she looked gorgeous.
"You have no idea," she groaned, she began to dig around in her purse. Eddie assumed for cash for the night.
"Tried a date, right? Complete asshole, who didn't even pay for dinner. Then doesn't drive me home so I had to take a cab," her voice got more stressed as she dug around in her purse faster. "Which now I realize I gave the last amount of my cash to the driver and now can't pay my fucking babysitter." She groaned, throwing her purse on the floor.
Eddie held back a small laugh at her mini meltdown. "It's alright, Y/N. Don't worry about it." He said.
"No! You do so much for us and deserve to be paid. I mean you got Ben an A on his project, and Kasey won't shut up about you. I think she's in love. And Jack adores you. I mean you do more than their father." She ranter, steering away from the topic. "Can I double it next time? Or I can write a check?" She struggled to find a solution and she was so frantic about it. Eddie couldn't help but watch her fall apart.
"Those are all fine. Or honestly, it can be on me. It sounds like a shitty night." Eddie offered, he stood up, his body up close next to hers. He felt his fingers inching towards her before his brain knew.
"I need a bath then I'll be fine. But I'm still paying you some way." She smiled gently at him as she touched his arm. A short way to show her affection and a promise. She went to move away but Eddie moved faster. His hand grabbed her arm, and he brought her hand up to his mouth. He watched as she froze and sucked in the air. Her mouth slightly opened.
"I think I know a way you can pay me. A slightly different method." He whispered, then he took her ring finger, one that used to have a band around, and slowly put it in his mouth. He was crossing a huge boundary and he prepared for the slap across his face. But instead, she moaned and zoned her eyes in on his mouth as he sucked her finger.
"What's that?" She whispered, her voice cracked and she coughed to try to fix it. Her eyes never left his mouth as he let her finger go with a pop.
"Let me eat," he started, yanking her arm to bring her body smack against his. She stumbled into him but he kept them in balance, "that pretty pussy, momma." He whispered against her lips.
She wasn't sure if she got drunk off her glass of wine or if Eddie was truly hitting on her. He was an attractive boy, but he was just in his twenties and she was ten years older than him. It was way too wrong to feel this turned on.
"The kids." She mumbled, turning her head to look up the stairs. Eddie grabbed her chin and brought her face against his again. His lips were right on top of hers.
"Then you'll have to be quiet then, huh?" He smirked, raising his eyebrows as he challenged her.
"But..." She trailed off. She tried to wrap her brain for an argument but she felt like her brain shut off.
"You say stop, and I'll stop. Let me make you feel good, take away your stress. Feast on you like you've never felt. Not by that loser ex-husband and not that loser from tonight." His dirty words made her submit. A little pleasure wouldn't kill her and he was of age. And based on the hardness she felt against her thigh, it was something he wanted.
She nodded and allowed his lips to smash on hers. She gasped as he slammed her against the wall and his hands immediately slipped under her dress. She moved her tongue into his mouth and her hands went in his hair. She was rough and tugged. Harder each time she heard the growling sound he made.
She moaned against his tongue as his fingers moved her underwear aside, and his fingers fucked into her. Her head fell back and his mouth latched on her neck. She cradled his head as she began to ride his fingers. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep quiet, not trying to scar her children for life.
She gripped his hair harder when his thumb rubbed her clit and his teeth sunk into her flesh.
She got her breath back when he pulled away, but her break didn't last long. He dropped to his knees and pulled her leg over his shoulder. He growled at the sight of her wet pussy, pulsing and asking for more. He didn't need the extra wetness, but he still spit right on her clit. A way to mark her as his.
She threw her hand over her mouth the second his tongue was on her clit. He knew just how to suck and flick. He made her knees shake. His fingers were back inside of her as he sucked on her clit.
Eddie loved the taste of her on his tongue. She was sweet and way better than he imagined. He couldn't deny the amount of times he thought of doing this. And the many nights he craved to taste her just like this.
He didn't care to be clean, he was messy and sloppy. His tongue moved between her folds to taste every inch, removing his fingers just to circle his tongue inside. Her body arched off the wall and he could feel her digging at his roots.
Eddie moved his tongue back up to her clit, and his fingers entered her again. He went fast and slipped in three fingers, and then slipped in a fourth one. He felt her snapping before she even made a sound. Four fingers deep as he fucked her and spelled his name with his tongue on her clit, sucking harshly at the very end as she came.
Her body slumped against the wall but he kept his mouth on her, shoving her against the wall and he held her up as he finished tasting her. She was sensitive and shaking but he made sure to lick up every single drop.
She tried to catch her breath when he gently placed her leg back on the ground, he moved her underwear back in place and pushed the underwear against her sensitive clit. She bit back the whine, the material soaked up her wetness. He pushed her dress back down and cleaned off his mouth.
He smirked as he took in her fucked off state. "no cash, no big deal."
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Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger
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butterflysonnets · 6 months ago
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broke: byler getting murray’d
woke: byler getting holly’d
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worth-the-chaos · 1 year ago
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Adventures In Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 1
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Chapter Summary: You haven’t been babysitting Dustin for very long. Underestimating his tendencies for rebellious behavior, you realize too late that he’s snuck out, with your dire search for the boy leading you to the last place you wanted to be: Steve Harrington’s house.
Content warning: swearing, inter-dimensional demogorgon bullshit, kind of strangers to friends to lovers (not necessarily all in this chapter), stancy, slow burn
Word Count: 6.5k
Author’s note: This is my first fic and it isn’t super original; it pretty much sticks to the plot of the show, but adds you to the mix! I tend to like fics that put the reader directly into the Stranger Things universe, demogorgons and all, so this chapter roughly follows Steve’s involvement in season 1 episode 8 when he goes to the Byers’ residence. This is more of a prologue and I plan to be more original with the story as it goes on, but it will still largely follow the plot lines of the series, so if that’s something you’re looking for, you’ve found it here!
Series Masterlist | Next Part
***
You knocked quickly on the door in front of you, eyes darting left and right to take in your surroundings. You were out of place here among the upper class houses in the neighborhood, with your hand-me-down and thrifted clothes screaming the opposite of prosperity. You were antsy, weight shifting from foot to foot; in fact, you were almost confident that if any of the neighbors were out and caught a glimpse of your obviously anxious form, they’d put a call in to the Hawkins police in an instant. You didn’t belong here. You scoffed at the thought. Though every fiber of your being was telling you—no, screaming at you—to leave, you really didn’t have a choice.
Not to mention the address you were at housed probably the last person you would ever actively seek out. He probably didn’t want to see you either, if you were being honest.
“Come on. Just answer,” You muttered through gritted teeth as you raised your hand to knock once more. However, before your hand could even make contact with the nice, expensive oak of the front door, it opened and you were met with the annoyed and confused glare of the one and only Steve Harrington. The expression on his face didn’t surprise you but the state of it did. Bruises and cuts littered his otherwise perfect skin, leaving you with a lot more questions than you had originally intended on asking.
“What do you want?” His words were direct, his tone short and clipped, drained from what on the outside seemed to be quite an eventful day.
“I-I, uh…I’m sorry, but what happened to you?” You breathed out. You had more pressing concerns, but you couldn’t help but wonder why King Steve of Hawkins High looked like absolute shit.
“I don’t have time for this,” he sighed as he began to shut the door.
You reached your hand through just in time to catch it as you shoved your way into the Harrington household. You knew his parents were likely on some sort of fancy business trip, so they wouldn’t be there to reprimand you for your actions. It’s what made Steve’s house the prime destination for the biggest parties in Hawkins. Parties you were rarely, if ever, invited to.
“What the hell are you doing?! I barely even know you and now you’re breaking and fucking entering into my goddamn house!”
“Technically, I’m just entering. You opened the door.”
“Are you kidding me right now, y/n?”
You were surprised he even knew your name. You tended to blend into the background, flying under the radar in your attempt to make good enough grades to maybe, just maybe, give yourself a fighting chance at attending college on scholarships. “Will you just hear me out. Please.”
You must have sounded desperate because Steve’s furrowed brow relaxed, his expression softening before he rolled his eyes, sitting down on a pristine white couch saying, “Fine. But make it quick because I have a raging headache and my patience is wearing thin.”
You breathed in a deep breath before you rattled off your reason for trespassing.
“Well, it’s kind of a long story, but I happen to babysit Dustin Henderson—or, well to be more accurate, I just started babysitting Dustin Henderson since Jonathon Byers’ brother disappeared—and everything was going fine one minute, but then I went to check on him in his room because he was being awfully quiet, and then I noticed his window was open and he must’ve snuck out, and—“
He cut you off, “Woah, woah, woah. How does any of this concern me? I mean, it’s not my fault you’re clearly a shit babysitter and can’t keep track of some seventh grader.”
“If you would just let me finish,” you warned through gritted teeth, “I’m aware of the fact that it doesn’t concern you, but I’ve been looking all over for him and I can’t find him anywhere. I’ve checked the Sinclair’s, I’ve checked the Wheeler’s, I’ve checked every location a seventh grade nerd might frequent, nothing. So, yeah, though it doesn’t concern you, I thought I might find Nancy here, given the fact that the two of you have obviously been going out, to ask her where the hell her brother is so that maybe, just maybe, I could find the damn kid I’m babysitting before I get fired from my fucking job. Now, if you could stop being so goddamn selfish for once in your life, I would really appreciate the help.”
Steve paused for a moment while he considered this. Being called selfish stung, but you weren’t wrong. The events leading to the myriad of injuries across his face seemed to prove just that. However, there was something about you in particular saying it that cut deep. You were seemingly so perfect, granted a bit odd. You were nice, you made good grades, but other than that he didn’t know much about you, so the expletive-laced explanation was a bit out of place coming from your mouth.
“I hate to break it to you, but you’re a little too late to find Nancy here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, she didn’t say it, but I take it things are probably pretty over between us.”
This was surprising to say the least. Nancy Wheeler wasn’t someone who you would have guessed would go for a total asshole jock like Steve, but even you had to admit, he was easy on the eyes. Your heart skipped a bit at the thought, as you suddenly also remembered that you basically broke into the house of the most popular kid at your high school. One whom you’d never really spoken to in any meaningful sense before this very instant.
“What happened?” You asked hesitantly, taking a step towards Steve as your fingers hovered over his forearm. Even though you hated nearly everything Steve stood for—popularity, prosperity, assholery—you felt compelled to comfort him. Something about him was different than you expected. When he didn’t pull away, you let your hand rest there.
“Well, speaking of Jonathan Byers, we kind of got into…an altercation. I would like to say that I won, but I think it’s clear that I didn’t. I was with Tommy H and Carol and he spray painted a bunch of awful shit about Nancy and Jonathan all over town, and I didn’t stop him, so yeah, things aren’t what I would call good between me and Nancy right now.”
Your comforting instinct told you to apologize, sympathize, but you weren’t going to condone his actions. You’d seen the “Nancy ‘the Slut’ Wheeler” graffiti earlier in your mad dash to locate Dustin. Though you didn’t know her super well, Nancy had been nothing but nice to you and she definitely didn’t deserve that sort of treatment.
“Well, how do you…feel about it?” You asked gently, internally cringing at your anxiety forcing you to find something to fill the silence with.
“I mean, definitely not good. I was an ass, and I know it, and as much as I hate that I screwed things up with Nancy, I think I’m more so realizing how shitty I was to Jonathan. I mean, he’s got enough going on without me making things more difficult…I need to make things right.” He stood up abruptly, quickly grabbing his car keys from a likely expensive decorative dish on the side table by the door.
“Woah, wait! You’re just going to leave me?” You asked incredulously. “Steve, I-I….I need help.”
“You can come with me,” he responded as he spun his keys around his index finger.
“What?”
“To the Byers’ house? You know, kill two birds with one stone? I apologize to Jonathan, you ask about the Henderson kid. Hell, you might even luck out and find him there, so what do you say?” He explained as he placed his hand gently on your back, leading you out the front door, down the driveway to his car. You tried not to think about the way his hand felt on the expanse of your back. Before you could say no, he was opening the passenger’s side door for you.
Your eyes met his, your mouth slightly parted as you weighed your options. Sure, you could handle yourself fine on the way to Jonathan’s house…but then on the other hand, Steve had a car and you didn’t, and with all of the weird things going on in Hawkins recently, it was probably best not to be a young woman walking around on her own, especially now that you were losing light. Safety reasons aside, the element that settled the internal argument for you was the look in Steve’s eyes. He wanted to do better. He wanted to be better. Who were you to deny him that?
You breathed in once more, shaking your head as you breathed out. “Alright. Let’s go.”
***
Being in Steve’s car was, needless to say, a bit awkward. You both had your own problems, brought together by chaos and regret, a combination which didn’t make for great small talk.
“So, Nancy Wheeler, huh?” You asked in an attempt to ease the tension, needing to rid the car of the weight of the uncomfortable silence.
“Yep,” Steve muttered, eyes focused on the road.
“She’s pretty cool. I mean, she’s always been nice to me.”
“She’s the best.”
You weren’t sure why, but this comment made your heart sink a little in your chest. Though Nancy had always been nice, you couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous of her. She stood out in a way that you never could. She was smart but had the money to back it up, which, in terms of social status, meant that she mattered and you didn’t. You were living paycheck to paycheck, barely functioning, picking up odd jobs all the time just to support yourself in the way your family couldn’t. You barely had the time to study or have fun, becoming the background character to everyone else’s life. Hell, you weren’t even sure you had a starring role in your own. She was also pretty in a way that you could never be, with her big blue eyes and thin frame making clearly even the douchiest of douchebags swoon. Steve was living proof.
“Y/n? Did you even hear anything I just said?” Steve’s voice finally flooded your consciousness, drawing you away from your thoughts and feelings of inadequacy.
You shook your head trying to clear out the negativity. “Sorry! I was-I just zoned out for a second, my bad,” You chuckled, your smile not quite reaching your eyes.
“I asked you why you were babysitting the Henderson kid anyway. It just seems like something that you wouldn’t be interested in.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I mean, I don’t know, you’re…different. Yeah, you’re nice and make good grades and whatever, but you’re also pretty edgy. You seem like one of those weird, alt kids that would be into like pretty heavy music and shit, and babysitting just seems a little too suburban-status-quo for someone like you.”
You stared at him blankly, not really sure how to answer given that his words were more a statement of assumptions rather than a question. You opened your mouth to speak, but he interjected before you could even say anything.
“That came out wrong. What I’m saying is that you’ve always struck me as a little bit intimidating because you’re actually an individual; you don’t follow the crowd which, I mean, is admirable, but babysitting? Come on. I’m as stereotypical as they come, and I wouldn’t even babysit, especially not for some thirteen-year-old misfit who seems like more of a handful than its worth.”
“Well, for starters, you’re a guy, so no shit you’re not babysitting the youth of Hawkins, and also, I just need the money, which I’m sure is a foreign concept to you. And babysitting is kind of a piece of cake…normally. Henderson is a special case; he’s too smart for his own good.”
Steve laughed and you blushed, grateful for the darkness to hide the heat in your cheeks. His words felt like they were trying to be a compliment, but you weren’t sure how to interpret them. You guessed that maybe you stood out at least a little bit more than you had initially thought. By his description, people must be noticing you to some extent. He was noticing you.
You shook your head at the thought. What had gotten into you? Half an hour ago you hated this man, but now you weren’t too sure. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought he was.
With Hawkins being a small town in rural Indiana, the drive was not long, so your conversation ended here as you pulled up to the Byers’ residence. You felt a pang in your heart as you saw the tarp-covered hole in the front of the house. From speaking with Mrs. Henderson, you knew how much of a toll her son’s disappearance had taken on Joyce. Both of you got out of the car and you made your way to the front door.
Steve knocked. When there was no response, he banged on the door again. “Jonathan! Are you there man? It’s—it’s Steve! Listen, I just want to talk.”
He continued to bang on the door. You were about to reach up and stop him, tell him that it was enough and clearly no one was home, when the door opened a crack and you were met eye to eye with Nancy Wheeler. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw you, but it only lasted for a fraction of a second before her expression settled and her brows furrowed.
“Steve, listen to me.”
“Hey. Nancy, what—“
“You need to leave. Both of you,” she added as she turned to meet your eyes. She was serious, her expression stern, but there was something else there…desperation maybe?
“I’m not trying to start anything, okay?” Steve pleaded. It didn’t make a difference, as Nancy had clearly made up her mind.
“I don’t care about that. You need to leave. Now.”
“No, no, listen, I messed up…I messed up, and I just want to make things right.” Steve was desperate, you could hear it in his voice. You wanted to try and reason with Nancy, speak on behalf of Steve, but it wasn’t your place. You went to cast your gaze downwards, trying to give the two of them a private moment, but Nancy’s gauze-wrapped hand caught your eye instead.
“Hey, what happened to your hand?” You asked hesitantly, brow furrowed, “is that…is that blood?”
You went to gently reach for her hand but she quickly drew it back and out of sight, but it was too late. Say what you will about Steve, but he was protective to a fault, and in seeing Nancy hurt, any desire to make things right with Jonathan quickly dissipated.
“It’s nothing! It-It was an accident.”
“Wait a sec. Did he do this to you? Nancy, let me in!” Steve demanded as he pushed into the Byers’ home, not dissimilar to how you had intruded upon the Harrington residence earlier. You entered behind him. Under any normal circumstances, you probably would have felt awkward, but instead you were too preoccupied with Steve’s short temper and the fires you knew you would inevitably have to put out.
Unfortunately, you didn’t have the premonition to know the literal nature of that preoccupation.
Crossing the threshold of the Byers’ residence, you weren’t entirely sure what you were looking at, but it did make your heart stop in your chest. You momentarily locked eyes with Jonathan as you looked around the room. There were multicolored lights strewn about the whole house, makeshift weapons on the coffee table, the entire alphabet painted sloppily on the wallpaper, and Jonathan’s hand had the same blood soaked gauze as Nancy’s.
“What is…what the…what is all of this?” Steve demanded.
“You need to get out of here. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.” Jonathan grabbed the fabric of Steve’s shirt attempting to force him out of the living room, but Steve planted his feet.
“Is that….is that gasoline?!” You stammered as the rest of your senses finally showed up. Your hands were trembling at your sides, and you felt like at any moment you might have a panic attack. You took a shaky breath as you attempted to calm yourself down.
“Steve! Get out!” Nancy shouted. The distinct click of a gun rang out, and Steve froze, eyes fixed on the revolver in Nancy’s hand, pointed directly at him. Jonathan’s grip loosened on Steve’s shirt as he stepped away, shock registering on his face as well.
Something was obviously very wrong. You pushed your anxiety deep down in your chest, and you took a step forward. If I could just talk to her, you thought, I can deescalate this.
“Nancy—“ you began cautiously, but as soon as you took a step she pivoted and now you were the one staring down the barrel of a gun. Your breath hitched in your throat as you slowly raised trembling hands in front of your chest. “I think you need to calm down.”
“I think you need to leave,” she responded, her voice icy. Suddenly, Steve bounded forward, grabbing your wrist and pulling you behind him. Once you were hidden behind his tall figure, you allowed yourself to break down a little, pressing yourself against him for some semblance of security.
“Is this a joke, Nancy? Put the gun down!”
“I’m doing this for you.”
“What is this?! What does that even mean?” He yelled back at her, but his words weren’t doing anything to help. His hand was still wrapped around your wrist, and his grip tightened. He was holding onto you just as much as you were holding onto him, with a fistful of his shirt balled into your delicate hand as you attempted to ground yourself. It felt intimate, and if it weren’t for your current predicament, you would have been embarrassed.
“Three. Two—“
“Nancy! The lights!” Jonathan shouted, and you peeled your face away from the solace of Steve’s back, watching as the lights flickered with a raging entropy, making it nearly impossible for your eyes to navigate the small room.
“Where is it? I don’t see it!” Nancy cried out and for the first time in the craze of blinking lights and shouting, you saw the fear on her face, her previous stoic facade shattering in the chaos. Seeing the fright in her eyes made your stomach drop, as the reality of the situation began to sink in.
Something was very, very wrong.
“Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?!” Steve shouted and you couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. Even with the family room being sporadically lit up like a Christmas tree, you and Steve were very much still in the dark.
No sooner had he said it did the ceiling begin to crack, something large writhing as it made its way into the small house from above. Nancy began shooting at it as you stood frozen. Finally, it burst through the drywall, falling to the floor on all fours. If someone asked you to describe what you had seen, you weren’t sure what you would’ve even said. It had pale skin, nearly translucent, and made an awful chattering sound as it started to gather its bearings.
“Go! Go! Run! Go!” Jonathan started shouting as he grabbed Nancy around the waist and shoved her in front of him as she darted down the hall. Steve turned around and did the same, his hands harshly grabbing at your sides to redirect you as you formed a human chain; Jonathan’s hand wrapped around your wrist, and your other hand wrapped around Steve’s as you made a mad dash to the bedroom at the end of the hall.
In all the commotion you barely heard Jonathan shout “jump!” narrowly missing the open bear trap on the floor. You shrieked and willed yourself to be coordinated for once in your damn life as you hurdled over the metal teeth of the trap, blindly trusting that Steve’s athleticism would kick in and he would do the same. A low growl sounded out just as the bedroom door slammed shut behind Steve, his momentum causing him to collide into you. You would have toppled over if it wasn’t for his quick reflexes, as he reached out to steady your shoulders.
“Shhh, you’re okay. It’s all going to be okay,” Steve frantically whispered, his hands still holding together your shaking form, as you stumbled backwards and collapsed down on the bed. His lips were dangerously close to your ear, and he brought a hand to the base of your neck, drawing his fingers down to your shoulder to reassure you. He was barely holding it together himself, scared out of his mind, but he brought you into this mess and he was determined to protect you first. “What the hell was that?!”
“Shut up!” Nancy and Jonathan yelled in unison. Everyone’s gaze then fixed on the yoyo that was precariously draped over the chair. Your heart thundered in your ears, your eyes welling with tears as you held your breath and waited. The lights continued to flicker, until a jolt of electricity rang out and they became static. The silence was unnerving.
“Do you hear anything?” Nancy asked.
Jonathan shook his head and slowly opened the door. The four of you stepped into the quiet of the hallway, eyes fixed on the undisturbed bear trap in the middle of the carpet. You all cautiously made your way back to the disheveled family room of the Byers’ house, Nancy and Jonathan prepped with their weapons in hand.
“This is…this—this is crazy!” Steve shouted, running his hands through his perfect hair.
You tugged on his sleeve trying to draw his attention away from what just happened; this was already a shit show, the last thing you needed was Steve losing his mind. “Steve, you need to calm down,” you begged, still shaken from before.
“Y/n, how the hell am I supposed to calm down?! This isn’t a situation where you can calm the fuck down! What the hell is going on?!” He continued to shout, grabbing your wrist and shoving it away. You tried not to take it personally, but it still hurt. You hated how quickly he had gone from comforting to cold.
Before you could open your mouth to speak, Nancy spoke up, “It’s going to come back! So you need to leave. Right now.”
Steve grabbed your wrist, your body lurching as your trajectory quickly changed, the inertia causing you to stumble while your feet attempted to keep up with Steve’s large strides. Steve fumbled with his keys as you reached the car. His shaky hands finally unlocked the door and he swung it open, about to sit when he realized that you had stopped following him, still positioned in front of the house.
“Y/n, what are you doing?”
“Steve, we can’t leave, are you kidding me? They’re in way over their heads. They need help.”
“It’s too dangerous. I don’t want you in there. It’s not up for discussion,” Steve argued, stepping around the door and reaching out to grab your wrist again. You quickly stepped back, pulling your hands out of his reach.
“Y/n, you’re not going back in there. I’m not joking.”
“Neither am I,” you shot back, turning back towards the door. You heard him call out your name again, but you were already through the front door, back in the discomfort of the Byers’ family room.
“Y/n, what the hell are you doing here? I said to leave,” Nancy warned.
“I’m not leaving. You guys need help, and I want to help.”
“Y/n—“ Jonathan began, but his warning was cut short when the lights began to flash again. You quickly grabbed a large kitchen knife from the pile of improvised weapons on the coffee table and met Nancy and Jonathan back to back in the center of the room.
“Where is it?” You asked, trying to shove the fear in your chest down, hoping it was a false alarm, that the wiring was screwy, that you were safe.
“Come out, you son of a bitch!” Jonathan yelled out. You willed your hands not to shake as you tightened your grip on the handle of the knife. Suddenly the lights went out, plunging the room into inky black darkness. You blinked rapidly, a futile attempt to get your eyes to adjust to the pitch black room.
You heard a low growl before Nancy exclaimed, “Y/N!”
You spun around, eyes meeting the nine-foot hulking form of whatever the hell this thing was, standing less than a foot from you. You didn’t even have time to scream as it lunged at you, pinning you to the floor. Your knife fell from your grasp, clamoring across the hardwood. You wish you could go back to when you hadn’t had a good look at the monster. Now you stared wide eyed as its face opened up revealing countless rows of razor sharp teeth as it shrieked, spewing thick drool across your face.
“Help me! Please! Nancy!” You screamed out as you writhed under the pressure of the beast. Its clawed fingers began tightening around your upper arm, ripping into your skin as you cried out in pain. It reared back to scream its ear piercing scream again, but something collided with it, knocking it off-kilter. Its long claws dragged across the flesh of your arm, etching larger gashes as its grip began to release.
You took this opportunity to slip away, scrambling across the floor on hands and knees as you grabbed the kitchen knife, turning around to slash the monster’s achilles. It cried out, turning back towards you, this time far angrier than it had been in the first place. This was when you realized that the collision from before had been Steve, swinging Jonathan’s nail bat as hard as he could at the creature.
He had come back for you.
He continued to swing the bat with all his might, causing the monster to stumble backwards until the resonant clang of metal hitting against metal rang out.
“He’s in the trap! He’s stuck!” Steve yelled out, causing the rest of you to spring into action.
“Jonathan, now!” Nancy shouted. Jonathan hurtled around the corner, the unmistakable flick of a lighter sounding out before he tossed it in the gasoline soaked carpet. The hallway erupted in flames that were almost too bright to bear, as the four of you covered your eyes. You took this opportunity to sprint back to the family room, quickly grabbing the fire extinguisher laid out on the rug, before bounding back to the hallway.
“Get back!” You shouted as you desperately tried to put out the fire before you were all suffocated in a fiery mix of ash and smoke. You all coughed as the smoke cleared, revealing that the monster had disappeared, no longer stuck between the teeth of the bear trap.
“Where did it go?” Nancy hesitantly asked.
“It has to be dead. It has to be,” Jonathan said, though it seemed more like he was saying it to convince himself; to speak it into existence.
Suddenly the string lights started blinking again, this time in a line leading toward them in the hallway. Your breath caught in your throat, and Steve protectively pushed himself in front of you and Nancy. The lights then blinked again, this time in a line towards the front door. This time they weren’t the erratic display of chaos from earlier, but rather an orderly demonstration of cosmos. The four of you cautiously followed the lights, weapons drawn just in case.
“Mom?” You heard Jonathan quietly ask. His eyes welled with tears, and you immediately wanted to hug the boy. He’d been through so much. He didn’t deserve this; none of you did.
You followed the lights outside the house, watching the streetlight gently flicker before all trace of the paranormal phenomenon dissipated.
“Where’s it going?” You asked quietly.
“I don’t think that’s the monster,” Jonathan responded. He didn’t elaborate and none of you asked.
Steve quickly turned to you, gently grabbing your wrist. “Y/n, you’re bleeding,” he said, his eyes widening as they focused on your blood soaked sleeve.
“It doesn’t matter. Where’s Dustin? Please tell me one of you knows,” you turned to ask Nancy and Jonathan, both of them caught off guard by your question.
“Uh, I think it really does matter, y/n. We don’t even know what the hell that thing was! You can’t just ignore—“
“They’re at the school,” Nancy interrupted. She wanted to argue with you too, to tell you that you definitely needed medical attention, but she also knew you weren’t going to listen. Hell, you’d just run back into a house with an inter-dimensional threat so her and Jonathan wouldn’t have to face it on their own.
You turned back towards Steve. “Steve, I promise I’ll let you take me to the urgent care or the hospital or whatever if you just please let me go make sure he’s okay,” you pleaded. Tears were welling in your eyes and Steve realized that he wasn’t going to be able to say no to you.
“Fine, but this is fucked up.”
***
By the time you pulled into the parking lot of Hawkins middle, it was swarming with police cars and emergency vehicles. You felt nauseous and negligent, as you frantically scanned, looking for the curly mop of hair hidden under a baseball cap. Before Steve stopped the car, you flung your door open, jogging across the lot, calling out for the boy.
“Dustin! Dustin Henderson!”
“Woah, woah, woah! You can’t just jump out of a moving vehicle!” Steve caught up with you. He wanted to reach out and put a hand on your shoulder to rein you in a little, but he decided against it, not recalling which one was torn up. You had to be in excruciating pain, but you didn’t show it. She’s pretty damn tough, Steve thought to himself. Suddenly, you both saw the Henderson boy, chatting away with Lucas Sinclair, as if nothing had happened.
“Henderson!” You growled, marching across the parking lot towards the young child.
“Y/n, I can explain—“
“Do you have any idea the hell I just went through trying to find your ass?! Where the hell were you?!”
“You’re not going to believe me, but there’s this alternate—wait, what the hell happened to your arm?”
You looked at Steve, trying to silently decide how much to tell the young boy. He was just a kid; he didn’t need to be mixed up in all of this, and neither did Lucas. To be perfectly honest, neither did the two of you, but you couldn’t change what happened. You broke eye contact with Steve and looked at Dustin, lips slightly parted as you tried to find the right words to say. Before you could even say anything, Dustin broke the silence.
“It was the demogorgon, wasn’t it?”
“What in the fresh hell are you talking about?” Steve asked, growing tired of this kid who had inadvertently caused you to risk your life trying to find him instead of just listening to his damn babysitter.
“Monster, big and scary, likely inter-dimensional?”
“You…But how do you…you know about all of this?” You asked, your heart sinking knowing that you couldn’t protect him from this.
“It took Will, and we’ve been trying to find him,” Lucas chimed in.
“B-but…but there was a funeral. He died,” you stammered, your heart aching this time as you thought back to Jonathan and Joyce and how miserable they had been over the loss of the young child.
“Look, y/n, I’m sorry I snuck out but it was to find Will. I can explain the rest but it’s going to take a while and you might want to sit down,” Dustin hesitantly spoke.
“You’re so damn lucky your mom is out of town for the next few days,” you spoke through gritted teeth, but you sat down and you listened to the boy.
***
After his explanation, you and Steve were, needless to say, a bit stunned and speechless. How the hell did three middle school boys figure all of that out? And a girl with a shaved head and super powers? You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that Hawkins Chief of Police Jim Hopper knew about all of this either. What was there that you could trust? Your head started to spin and you were getting a bit nauseous at the thought.
“I mean, this is wild Henderson. It’s borderline unbelievable,” Steve chided. Dustin’s eyes widened and his face reddened, clearly mad that Steve wasn’t buying his story.
“Are you serious right now, Steve? You saw it! You saw the damn demogorgon! How could you possibly deny that—“
“I said borderline unbelievable, shit bird. Obviously I know some strange shit is going on, it’s just still fucking insane.”
You couldn’t agree more with him as you attempted to stand up, but your vision blurred and you stumbled. You would’ve fallen if Steve hadn’t immediately shot up to catch and steady you.
“Woah, y/n, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Steve’s eyes were darting all across your face. He wished he could read your mind but you just stared up at him with those eyes and it all remained a mystery.
“I think she needs to get that checked out. She’s losing a lot of blood,” Lucas chimed in, his brow furrowed under his camo bandana. He pointed at your blood soaked sleeve, and everyone simultaneously realized that blood was now dripping down your hand, the fabric no longer able to hold anymore liquid.
“No, no, I’m fine, I swear. Let me just walk it off. I’ll be okay,” you tried to sound confident, but your speech was slurred and there were dark spots invading your vision. Steve gently patted at the side of your face, attempting to keep you conscious.
“Y/n, just stay with us. We’re going to get you help. Just keep those pretty eyes open for me. Y/n, please!” He sounded desperate, and you fought to stay awake. The next thing you knew, he was carrying you, attempting to make it to an ambulance to get your wounds assessed by a real medical professional.
“Hey, we need you to take us to a hospital right now,” Steve spoke quickly as he sprinted to one of the EMTs on scene.
“What happened to her?”
“It’s a long story. Please sir,” Steve’s voice began to falter. The EMT gestured for Steve to hop in the back of the ambulance where he gingerly placed you on the gurney. Lucas and Dustin swiftly followed suit, going to hop into the ambulance, but the EMT stepped in front of the boys to stop them.
“Woah, where do you think you’re going?”
“Sir, if you could please let them come with us. We babysit them and I can’t leave them here by themselves,” Steve argued. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but it was the best he had to work with to convince the guy to take Sinclair and Henderson with them. Dustin looked at him with confusion, mouthing the word “we?” before Steve shot him a warning glance to fix his face before their story was invalidated.
You woke up in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV. You were no longer in your blood soaked clothes, your frame fitted with a hospital gown instead. You looked over to your left arm which had since been stitched up and was now wrapped in gauze, the bleeding slowing to a stop.
“Steve?” You called out, hoping he was still with you.
“Y/n! You’re awake!” He exclaimed rushing over to the side of the bed. You’d been out for the past hour. They had sedated you once you arrived at the hospital, saying it would be easier to tend to your wounds that way.
“Today didn’t really go how I thought it would.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Steve chuckled.
“I mean, my worst fear earlier was that I was going to get fired. I can tell you that I have significantly worse fears than that now,” you hated crying in front of people, with Steve being the last person you wanted to be vulnerable in front of, but you couldn’t help it as your eyes welled up and one stubborn tear slid down your cheek. Steve was quick to wipe it away, his hand reaching down to hold yours.
“I know, but on the bright side, I think you might be the most qualified babysitter in Hawkins,” Steve tried desperately to make you smile. It worked as you let out a wet laugh through your sob.
“I mean, I guess so,” you chuckled, your cheeks heating up at the compliment.
“You guess so? I know so. I don’t know anybody who would fight a monster with that many fucking teeth for some kid.”
“Nancy would,” you reminded him, your voice getting small again. The light in his eyes suddenly dissipated and he let go of your hand.
“Yeah, no, you’re probably right. I guess we’d all make pretty damn good babysitters,” he averted eye contact, preferring to look at his hands. In the time he’d been spending with you, he kind of forgot about Nancy. He felt guilty.
“You should talk to her, you know?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sure she’s probably ready to put whatever happened between the two of you behind her. I mean, you really stepped up when it mattered today,” you added. You weren’t sure why you were saying it because the thought of him going back to Nancy made your heart ache, but maybe you weren’t ready for the alternative. You weren’t ready for him to look at you the way he looked at her. Not that you thought he would, but you just felt the need to create some distance. A lot had happened and this wasn’t the way you wanted him to realize you were something special, something to hold onto.
“Yeah, I guess…I mean, I guess I’ll go talk to her. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” He looked you in the eye. Instead of seeing annoyance or indifference, you saw something new for a change: sincerity.
“Promise.”
He gave you a small smile, pausing in the doorway as he took one last look at you. You did a small wave goodbye, reassuring him that you’d be okay. With that, he took a breath and turned the corner, making his way back to the hospital waiting room where him and Nancy would patch things up. There was something about you though; something he couldn’t quite get out of his head.
He also had a sinking feeling in his chest that this wasn’t the end of whatever was going on in Hawkins. He had a feeling that the danger would linger, lurking in the shadows. He pushed the feeling aside and smiled weakly at Nancy, moving to sit in the empty chair next to her.
***
a/n: I hope y’all liked it; in theory there’s more to come (like I said earlier it’s gonna be a slow burn so yeah lol). If you feel so inspired to reboot this post that would also be pretty dope and I’d be eternally grateful <3
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brbsoulnomming · 1 month ago
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Heart On Your Sleeve Part 3
Part 1 | Part 2
written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!
-----
Dustin shows up at his house the next morning.
"You have a concussion," Dustin says when Steve answers the door.
Steve squints at him. "Did you get your medical license when I wasn't looking?"
Dustin rolls his eyes. "Haha, very funny. Are you going to let me in?"
Steve doesn't really have a reason not to.
All right, well, he's got several reasons not to, starting with the fact that Steve isn't actually feeling so great and ending with Dustin being like thirteen and somehow always around when the world is ending.
But Steve is lonely, and feeling kind of pathetic, and none of them seem like good enough reasons, so he opens the door and lets Dustin in.
"From my mom," Dustin says, setting down a Tupperware of brownies on the coffee table.
Steve immediately knows he's made the right decision, taking a massive bite of chocolate, fudgy heaven. It's only after he's devoured one and he turns to Dustin to ask him to tell his mom thanks that he sees that Dustin's plopped his heart onto the coffee table, too.
"Hearts out, Steve," Dustin says matter-of-factly.
"Why?" Steve bitches. "What do you even need to look at it for?"
"You're in the Party now! Party rules, you have to show your heart before you can get your walkie," Dustin says.
Steve pulls a face, and immediately regrets it as it makes his eye and nose burst with pain. "Who says I even want to be in your party?"
Dustin's face falls. "Don't you?" he asks, sounding hesitant and uncertain.
It makes Steve's resolve crumble immediately.
"How about we start with friends?" Steve offers.
The kid's face lights up at that, giving him a gap toothed smile, but then he nudges his heart closer to Steve and looks at him expectantly.
Steve sighs and takes his own heart out, wincing a little as the motion twinges his bruised ribs. He sets it on the table next to Dustin's.
"There you go," Steve mutters.
Now that the light's better, he can see a hole right in the middle of Dustin's heart. It's small, but it goes all the way through, and it makes Steve's own heart give a soft pulse in empathy.
Dustin catches it, looks up to follow Steve's gaze, and drops his eyes. "My dad," Dustin mutters.
"Hey," Steve says softly, reaching out without even thinking about it to turn his heart a little.
There's two overlapping holes in the same place on his own heart, and Steve rubs his thumb over them, biting the inside of his cheek at the way it still prompts a soft echo of longing. "My parents," he tells Dustin.
Dustin looks around, like he's only just now realizing that there's been no sign of them since he rang the doorbell. "Oh," he says, soft and full of understanding.
It's honestly the most understanding he's ever received about his parents choosing to be mostly absent from his life, which makes him feel kind of pathetic, but also makes his heart warm in a way he's not sure it ever has before.
Dustin reaches out, stopping just short of touching Steve's heart as he gestures to the jagged line cutting through it.
"Nancy?" Dustin asks.
Steve's jaw sets.
He doesn't want to talk about it.
Dustin seems to take that as answer enough, though, because he just goes back to eagerly examining both of their hearts. Steve's is bigger than his - of course it is, because Dustin is thirteen, but they're both the same deep, vibrant red, and they both beat strong and steady.
It's barely any time before they're beating in unison.
Dustin looks back up at him, beaming that wide, goofy smile of his. "Cool," he proclaims.
Every time Dustin comes over after that - and it's a lot, honestly, Steve still doesn't know what to make of it - he plops his heart onto the coffee table and waits expectantly until Steve takes his out and puts it next to Dustin's.
They never touch each other's hearts, they never even talk about it, but at least twice a week Steve's able to breathe a little easier, able to actually relax.
He waits at the picnic table in the woods after school on his first day back.
Munson looks bored at first when he gets there, but then he does a double take, like Steve's injuries are worse now than they were at lunch.
Or maybe it's just that he's up close now, instead of on the other side of the cafeteria, or maybe it's just that Steve's tired and in pain and he doesn't give a shit about pretending like he isn't.
“Jesus Christ, Harrington,” Munson mutters, dropping his lunchbox on the table.
Steve shrugs. “I'd say you should see the other guy, but everyone did already.”
Munson is looking at him with suspicion, eyes narrowed as he takes him in. Steve wonders if he doesn't buy the story that's been floating around, if it's too easy to see that he and Hargrove both look pretty fucking bad for just blowing off steam and getting carried away.
Wonders if he'll call him on it.
Munson's expression smooths out, though, and he flips the lunchbox lid open. “How much do you want?”
Steve's eyes flick down to the chains on Munson's leather jacket, but no heart there today. Not that he could see anything if it was - Munson's been wearing his heart pinned to his jacket off and on since the last half of Steve's freshman year, but it's always wrapped up tight in chains or leather so that no one could get more than a glimpse of it.
Everyone said it was a flaunt of defiance against tradition and a way he could cheat people in his deals while maintaining the appearance of a fair exchange, but Steve always kind of figured it was just because he was tired of people demanding to see it whenever he sold to them while being reluctant to show theirs.
That, and it was like everything else Eddie Munson did - loud and in your face and purposefully drawing attention to what he wanted you to see, while guarding what he didn't close to his chest.
Steve's never bothered with attempting a mutual show of hearts the handful of times he's bought from Munson before - they aren't exactly new business partners, not even the first time he actually bought from Munson himself, and frankly Steve's never needed to see Munson's heart to know he's trustworthy enough that he's not going to give him bad shit, even if he does overcharge him.
But today's different.
He gently pops open his own chest, ignoring the faint twinge of his ribs, and takes his heart out, setting it on the table next to Munson's lunchbox.
Munson's eyes widen for a moment before his jaw sets, lips thinning out in a flat line as he looks down at Steve's heart and then back up to his face. “What the hell is this?”
“My heart,” Steve replies evenly.
Munson looks unimpressed. “I'm not showing you mine.”
“I didn't ask you to,” Steve says, unable to stop himself even though he knows he's being kind of a dick.
Munson looks at him for a moment. Then, “Whatever. How much do you want?”
Steve opens his mouth to say he isn't here to buy today, but - actually, no, he could probably use some weed to dull the pain and help him sleep. It's routine for a moment, both of them ignoring Steve's heart beating on the table next to them as they make the trade, until Steve's baggie is tucked inside his jacket and Munson's shoving cash into the back pocket of his jeans.
“Pleasure doing business with you, Your Majesty,” Munson says, doing a little bow.
“Munson, wait,” Steve says.
Munson straightens, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Hargrove tried to blame this on you.” Steve gestures at his face. “Told me you sold him some bad shit.”
Munson goes very, very still. His eyes flick down to Steve's heart, so quick that Steve's not sure he would have noticed it if he wasn't watching Munson so closely.
“That so?” Munson asks. There isn't an edge in his voice - if anything, there's such a quiet neutrality to those two words that it almost feels more dangerous than if he'd tried to put a warning in them.
Eddie Munson's never scared Steve the way he does half the school - honestly, shitty as it is, Steve doesn't exactly think of him all that much - but there's no denying that Munson is no pushover. He can't tell if Munson is afraid, or angry, or just itching for a fight, but Steve didn't come here to freak him out.
He holds his hands up, palm out, and purposefully drags his gaze down to where his heart is beating calm and steady. “I don't believe him.”
Munson looks down at Steve's heart, lingering for a moment before darting back up. His expression is still unreadable. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because he said he was going to spread it around, that you were lacing your stuff with something,” Steve says. “I'm pretty sure I convinced him it was a bad idea, but just in case.”
“You convinced him it was a bad idea,” Munson repeats flatly.
Steve shrugs. “I told him he should be nicer to you, that you always sell me the good shit.”
That gets a little snort out of Munson, startled and almost amused, and Steve grins at him.
“It won't be hard to tack that onto the rumor if he tries to spread it,” Steve says. “So you should be safe.”
Just like that, the amusement in Munson's expression is gone. “Yeah?” he asks, disdain clear in his voice. “And why does King Steve give a shit if I'm safe?”
It's an obvious challenge, and for just a moment - for just a moment, Steve wants to tell him.
To tell him how the King Steve shit first came about because Carol loved fairy tales when they were little and his parents were gone so much that Tommy called him king of the castle, that he has tons of people who call him their friend but the only people who come close to understanding him are his ex, her new boyfriend, and a gaggle of middle schoolers who're waiting for him to come pick them up.
That he's more tired than any seventeen year old should ever be.
“What kind of king would I be if I didn't protect my people?” he says instead of any of that, refusing to look at whatever his heart is doing.
It's high school, it's politics, it's bullshit, but it's still a game he has to play for a little longer.
Munson is watching his heart, now, and whatever he sees makes something complicated cross his face. For a moment, Steve picks up a hint of longing, but it's gone by the time he looks back up.
“Well then,” he says, wide grin back in place as he bows again. “Consider this court jester protected, Your Majesty.”
The phone rings at one am a few days later.
He isn't asleep - had been, earlier, but a nightmare had tipped him quickly into wakefulness, and he hadn't gone back - so he answers it almost immediately.
Nothing good comes from one am phone calls.
“How many teeth do you think those things have?” Max demands without so much as a hello.
“I don't know,” Steve bitches before he's thought better of it. “You want to come over and count the bite marks on my leg?”
There's silence for a moment.
“Yeah,” Max says, and Steve's gut twists.
“It's one in the morning, Mayfield,” he says. “What are you going to do, skate over? It's dark and cold as shit out there.”
“Didn't stop us at the junkyard,” she shoots back.
He's quiet for a moment. Then, “I'll pick you up.”
She snorts. “You're going to show up at my house at one am and pick me up? Yeah, that'll be a great look for you.”
“Then it looks like you're out of luck, and you'll have to pick out the teeth marks on my leg tomorrow.”
She doesn't say anything for a while. He doesn't rush her, just settles back with the phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear.
“Why'd you do it?” she asks eventually.
“I ask myself that about a lot of things,” he replies. “Which one?”
He half expects another snappy retort, but her voice just goes even quieter.
“Put yourself in front of me. Stand up to him.”
Oh.
“I don't need protecting,” she adds, and yeah, there's the attitude.
“I know you don't need it,” he says, even though that's a lie. She does need it, they all do. “I know you can look out for yourself.”
That's not a lie.
“But you shouldn't have to. You should have someone who'll look out for you.”
She scoffs. “And that's going to be you?”
He shrugs, even though she can't see it, and it hurts a little. “Why not?”
She's quiet again. “You don't even know me.”
He does, is the thing. He knows the way her eyes looked when she said Billy was going to kill her, he knows not being able to rely on the people you should count on most, even if it's not the same.
He knows how he felt the summer before high school, when his father finally grew too frustrated with waiting for Steve's heart to change, how he picked it up and nearly threw it across the room. He knows the sound of his mother yelling, how viciously they fought. How his father never touched him or his heart again, but Steve now knew what lurked behind his eyes when he smiled too big.
He knows how his mother has looked at him with disappointment more times than anything else, after that.
But he doesn't say any of that. Instead, he says, “So let's change that. Skate park or arcade tomorrow?”
“What?” she asks, clearly thrown.
“After you're done staring at my leg wound and counting teeth like a creep,” he clarifies. “Am I taking you to the skate park or the arcade?”
“Hawkins doesn't have a skate park,” she says dismissively. “It has abandoned parking lots and dirt holes.”
He waits.
“Arcade,” she says. “And I want popcorn.”
His walkie flares to life at night, sometimes.
After the first time, he leaves it on a different channel than their usual one - makes sure the kids know which one it is, if they need to use it - and sometimes, they do.
Okay, more than sometimes. It's not like Steve's sleeping all that well, though, so he doesn't mind when it happens almost every night for a few weeks.
“Steve, you awake? Over,” Lucas says one night.
“Yeah, I'm up,” he mutters into the walkie. Then, after a moment's pause, “Over.”
There's silence, and that wakes him up more than the walkie itself had.
“Lucas?” he asks.
“What if you weren't there?” Lucas says.
“What?” Steve asks.
“At the junkyard. With Billy. What if you weren't there?”
“But I was,” Steve says, frowning.
“I know, but what if you weren't?”
Steve sits up, rubs at his eyes a little. “I'll always be there when you guys need me, okay?”
“You can't promise that!” If it was Dustin or Mike it might have been an angry bite, but Lucas just sounds frustrated. Maybe even a little scared.
“Sure I can,” Steve argues, even though he kind of knows Lucas is right. “I have the walkie, right? You guys call me, and bada bing bada boom, I'm there.”
Lucas is quiet for a moment. “Are you still trying to get Nancy back?”
“What? No, of course not. Why?”
“Dustin said you were bringing flowers to Nancy when he made you help him look for Dart.”
Right, of course he did. Do these kids keep any secrets from each other?
“This isn't about Nancy, okay? This is about you guys. I showed my heart to Dustin and I have my walkie and everything, doesn't that mean I'm in your party?”
“You actually want to be in the Party?” Lucas asks, sounding skeptical. “But you're Steve Harrington.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Steve asks.
“Aren't you way too cool to hang out with us?” Lucas retorts.
This is - quickly becoming a conversation that Steve doesn't really want to have over a walkie talkie at past midnight on a school night. He huffs out a frustrated breath of air, then pushes the talk button on the walkie again.
“This weekend. Arcade or shooting hoops?”
There's a pause. Then, “Really?”
Steve swallows down his urge to be a dick. “Yeah. Really.”
“Basketball. The park?” Lucas asks.
“Nah, we can use the hoop in my driveway. Come on by whenever.”
Lucas is good. Unpracticed, especially at any kind of teamwork, but good. Steve has to be careful, with his injuries, but they still get some good work in, and it's fun.
It's not until they're finished and raiding the kitchen for some snacks that he asks, “So what was that about, a few days ago?”
Lucas noisily pops open his can of New Coke, and takes such a long drink that Steve's pretty sure he's doing it to avoid answering. Steve just raises an eyebrow.
“Nancy used to hang out with us,” Lucas says, almost reluctantly. “She even played D&D with us a couple of times. Then she went to high school, and then she started dating you, and suddenly she's too cool to hang out with us. Then - then everything with Will, the first time, and she promised Mike they'd spend more time together, but she didn't. Just kept dating you.”
That's - a lot. He hadn't known that about Nancy, except that she wasn't as close with Mike as she wanted to be, that she didn't know how to talk to him about everything that happened. He thinks about protesting that hey, he's the one who got Nancy to talk to Mike about Will - and had to be a part of it, ugh - but again, he's trying not to be a dick.
“So you're, what, worried that I goaded Nancy into not hanging with you guys?”
Lucas makes a face at him. “No, Nancy doesn't do anything she doesn't want to do. I believe you that you'll be here if we need you for Upside Down stuff again, but why would you hang out with us for the in between?”
That's a fair question. He wants to be flippant, wants to deflect with something like because Dustin keeps showing up at my house and won't leave me alone, but -
He remembers how terrified Lucas looked with Billy pinning him against the cabinet. He kind of wonders if anyone's talked to him about it, or if it got lumped in with all the other weird terrifying shit going on.
“Because it isn't always Upside Down stuff,” Steve says softly.
Lucas goes quiet. “El says Hopper told her you guys fixed it so Billy would leave us alone.”
“I think Max did that well enough, but yeah, Hop and I had a plan.”
“How?” Lucas asks.
Bullshit, is how, Steve wants to say, but he doesn't. “Billy's on the basketball team, and he wants to stay on the basketball team.”
Lucas frowns. “So?”
“So I've been on the team longer than him. Coach knows me better, the guys are used to looking to me. Well - some of them.” In all fairness, the basketball team's been kind of split - some of them gravitating to him, some to Billy, some trickling back and forth like kids with divorced parents.
“So… you're one of the cool kids, and you like us, so the more douchebag ones stay away from us?” Lucas asks.
Steve's nose scrunches a little as he considers that, but it's… not wrong. “Yeah, I guess so. Most of them are good guys, they don't like bullying anymore than I do. It doesn't stop the ones who are assholes from doing it where we can't see it, but it helps.”
Lucas looks like he's considering that for a long moment, until finally he nods.
Steve thinks that's the end of it, but later, as Lucas is heading out to leave, he asks, “So what happens if you're not there, and you can't see it?”
Steve resists the temptation to pinch the bridge of his nose - mostly because he knows it'll hurt like hell.
“The Y is offering self defense classes,” he says, when he's gotten himself under control. “I was thinking about taking one. You in?”
Lucas is in.
This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!
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Part 4
Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy
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lukas-dusk · 7 months ago
Text
Steve : Mike annoyed me today so I told him that I can’t wait to see what he have planned for Will and him special day tomorrow.
Eddie : There is nothing special about tomorrow?
Steve : But there is something special about watching the color leave his face as panic takes over.
Eddie :
Eddie : God I love you so much.
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