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sheisjoeschateau · 11 months ago

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“Oh, so do WE love Steve…” | Part VIII

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER VII WARNINGS/NOTES: t.w.'s - strong language, more angst, mentions of death, injuries, Max in a coma, fearful tears, shared sadness, end-of-the-world terror talk, tough conversations and brutal honesty, jealousy and regrets. 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Not a super action packed chapter, but we unpack a lot in this one. Sh*t gets addressed that needs to be addressed. Dr. Owens delivers some hard news. Robin to the rescue, big time, for her platonic soulmate with a capital P. Platonic Stobin in full swing. Eddie still has no chill, but is the zany friend that everyone needed. Eddie & Robin bonding. Argyle becomes a therapist. Nancy faces some hard truth. Jonathan faces harder truth. Jopper being the ever-observant grandparents. Murray being Murray. Steve and Bauman Squared are more in love than ever. And the kids? Little legends.

ANOTHER LONG ONE. AGAIN: PROOFREAD UNTIL MY EYES BLED. IF THERE ARE STILL TYPOS, SORRY BOUT IT. 18+

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“Dislocated the shoulder, but no break. Popping it back into place isn’t going to be a picnic, but it’s way better than a break. So we’re off to a great start. Let’s take a look at your ribs now…”

Dr. Owens had you seated on the edge of the bed in Joyce and Hopper’s room downstairs. Murray, Steve and Robin all stood nearby, alongside them. They all watched anxiously.

Argyle and Eddie were on kid/teen duty. They made sure to keep them out of the room, which they managed to convince them of by going upstairs to sit with Max and read to her out loud.

You hissed as Dr. Owens made contact with your ribcage, and he frowned. “Possible fracture there. Good news is, if they were broken, you’d be on the ground in pure misery. They might even just be really badly bruised.”

You sighed. “I’m good with that.

Murray felt both relieved and frustrated at the same time. God, he hated doctors. Especially ones who served as double agents for the government. But Dr. Owen’s had more than proven himself to be trustworthy, so your uncle was putting up with him. For your sake, especially. You were basically the only kid he was ever gonna have.

“Best bet is to rest, ice them regularly and let them heal for about six weeks.”

You frowned. “Not so good with that.”

“Welp, you’re gonna have to be,” your uncle told you. Steve and Hopper nodded. You huffed, and Steve was selfishly grateful to know that you would have no choice but to stay home and out of danger.

“Alright, let’s check that heartbeat, shall we?” Dr. Owens asked with a smile. He took out his stethoscope, placing the instrument inside of his ears and blowing hot air onto the cold circle that would be placed over your heart. You brought the collar of your shirt down so that he could place it on your chest, and he listened closely while you waited.

Dr. Owens' smile slowly faded, and a prominent crease began to form between his brows. Robin clocked it, along with Steve. Hopper tried not to react, but Joyce’s fidgeting definitely gave it away.

“W-what’s wrong?” Joyce asked, unable to help herself.

Dr. Owens just held up a finger, politely gesturing for them to wait. You furrowed your brow, suddenly aware of the fact that something seemed to be the matter.

Steve swallowed, unblinking. What now…

Murray was not happy at the tension in the air, looking over at Joyce anxiously.

Dr. Owens eventually cleared his throat, pulling the stethoscope out of his ears with a deep inhale. He looks at you kindly, eyes solemn. You stare back, questioning.

“Well, umm…it’s normal. Not surprising, given the electric shock, but uh…your heartbeat’s not at its normal steady rhythm.”

Robin heard Steve suck in a breath, placing a hand on his forearm as they all looked at Dr. Owens.

“Cardiac arrhythmias is normal in these cases,” he tells you. “A heart arrhythmia occurs when the electrical signals that tell the heart to beat don't work properly. The heart may beat too fast or too slow. Or the pattern of the heartbeat may be inconsistent. A heart arrhythmia may feel like a fluttering, pounding or racing heartbeat. Some heart arrhythmias cases are harmless. Most, in fact.”

“Well, what about this one?” your uncle asked, voice grave.

Dr. Owens sighed. “Too soon to tell,” he said apologetically. “But it’s important that it remains monitored.”

“What do we do.” …Steve’s question sounded more like a statement, laced with worry and dangerously voice low.

Dr. Owens looked at him sympathetically. “I can get a prescription that will help. An antiarrhythmic medication. No surgery is needed unless it’s severe. It might not be.”

“How can you tell?” Joyce asked, worriedly. “I mean – what are the signs that we need to look for?”

“Fainting, chest pain, dizziness.” Then, to you, “If you feel like the heart is fluttering, or leaping inside of your chest, definitely make note of it. Scale it, 1-10, how bad it is. Be honest with yourself. Don’t tell yourself you’re more fine than not, and vice-versa. Don’t let it panic you, but just…stay alert.”

Steve wanted to pull every single one of his perfect hairs out. How the hell was that supposed to help? What happens if you wound up passed out on the floor, dead before they would get you proper help?

“Yeah, but what if — w-what if —”

That's all that Steve could mutter. Robin squeezed his forearm tighter, masking her own fear as she gnawed at her bottom lip relentlessly. Murray stared at Dr. Owens, visibly upset. Hopper looked pale, along with Joyce.

“How fast can you get us that medication?” Hopper asked, like a protective papa.

“I’ll get it to you tonight. Maybe tomorrow morning,” Dr. Owens promised. “I can bring as much as you may need. Meantime, I’ll leave the stethoscope so that you can monitor the heartbeat. Here, let me show you what to look for.”

Dr. Owens instructed Steve and Murray on how to monitor your heartbeat, and you ached as you watched Steve look consumed with dread as he did his best to keep it together and not freak out. Hopper and Joyce took notes, too. Everyone listened to your heartbeat, Steve most of all.

You took his hand. “Remember, it’s still there,” you murmured to him softly. He nodded, knowing you were right but still not content with the reality of things. Robin gave you a sympathetic smile, grateful for you and your courage.

Then, you looked at Dr. Owens with gratitude. “Thank you. For being here, and…helping out. I know you’re putting yourself on the line.”

Dr. Owens gave you a deeply appreciative look, along with Hopper. He wrung his hands. “Appreciate that, kiddo. Truly.”

Everyone went over the plans that would go into effect, given the mandate taking place in just a few short days. Hopper mentioned that it might be best for Dr. Owens to seek shelter with them, if things went south for him — given his compromised identity as an accomplice to them vs. the government. The doctor couldn’t argue that, saying he would think about it. Steve and Robin mentioned to him that Eddie needed looking over as well, which he said he’d do before he left.

While the adults talked, Steve and Robin walked with you out the bedroom door. You looked outside the living room windows, hating the thick cloud of infected air that had only gotten worse — seemingly overnight. It was dense, congested with alternate dimension disease.

“Seriously, hate that I can’t even get some damn fresh air,” you sighed.

“Last thing you need is bad air in your lungs,” Steve told you, his fingers reaching to massage the crown of your head. You sighed, knowing that he was right.

The kids heard you all walking out of the room, Mike and Lucas peeking their heads around the doorway leading into Max’s room upstairs. They made for the stairs, followed by Dustin, Will and El, rushing towards you all. Eddie and Argyle shouted after them, but they quickly rushed over to you.

They swarmed you all with questions. Is your shoulder broken? What about your ribs? Are you hungry?

“One at a time, kiddos,” Robin warned.

“No broken bones,” Steve told them, “But possible fracture. Ribcage. So no bear hugs, no tackling, no…rough-housing.”

Mike cocked an eyebrow at him. “Speak for yourself.”

Lucas smacked him.

“Thank you, Wheeler,” Steve said wryly. Mike smirked.

“Also, we gotta keep watch over Bauman’s heartbeat,” Robin pointed out.

El looked worried. “How come?”

You gave her an assuring head rub before carefully pulling her in for a hug. “Just a bit of an irregular heartbeat. You know. Given the shock and astral-planing and all.”

El held you tight, cautious of your ribs.

“…guess this means no coffee then, huh?” you asked, depressed at the mere thought. Caffeine was no longer your friend.

“That is correct,” Steve told you with a light kiss pressed to your head, then El’s. “Alright, kitchen everyone. Breakfast. Let’s go.”

“Bauman, we need to pop your shoulder back in place,” Dr. Owens hollered after you, and you dreaded the pain that awaited you.

Eddie made it downstairs with Argyle. “I’ll fix up a feast, big boy,” he told Harrington, giving him a quick couple pats on the shoulder. Then he squeezed your cheek. “Keep that heartbeat in rhythm, sweetheart. I’ll make you a sweet mixtape for inspiration.”

You chuckled deeply, appreciating his sense of humor deeply. Even Steve did, shaking his head and grateful for the cooking assistance. “Don’t kill my toaster, Munson.”

Steve walked back into the bedroom with you, holding your hand while you had your shoulder popped back into place. It was gnarly. Plenty of pain medication followed that, one that took your heartbeat into account. It was bound to knock you out at some point, so Steve and Robin made sure to get you back into the kitchen for some food before you’d need to head back upstairs and knock out asleep.

Hopper and Joyce helped out by adding some pancakes, sausage and eggs to Eddie’s cereal bar. Murray was already day-drinking. Dr. Owens stayed behind to join you all, at the invitation of the adults. Currently, he was going over notes that Hopper had given him in a seat next to Murray.

Argyle saw Jonathan round the corner – looking glum. “Yooo, bro-cha-cho. Purple palm tree delight?”

Jonathan blinked, slowly brought out of his trance. He looked tired, head hung low. Honestly, he looked like shit. “Oh, uhh…maybe later. Yeah.” He gave Argyle a sad smile before sulking off towards the front door while pulling a bandana over his mouth and nose — leaving the house.

“YO, GIMME SOME.” Eddie spoke with a mouthful of fruit loops. “Air’s shit anyway. Why not fry my lungs s’more?”

“Fry it with what?” El asked innocently.

Eddie swallowed the sweet cereal awkwardly. “...candy.”

Steve rolled his eyes as he poured everyone a glass of juice, and Robin held back a snort with all the strength that she could muster while divvying out plates.

“Really lame, gross candy,” Hopper threw back over his shoulder while flipping pancakes. He eyed Munson with a protective dad look on his eyes.

“The weird peanut butter smelling kind,” Murray added, reading a newspaper and gritting at the taste of his straight vodka.

“Thank you, Murray,” Joyce reprimanded him.

You were seated next to El and Mike, not allowed to help given your sharp shoulder pain and the medication beginning to sink in. Steve placed your food in front of you, along with the kids’.

“Fresh pot of coffee going on,” Hopper announced while cooking.

You sighed, turning to Steve. “Baby, do you —”

You stopped, catching yourself. But so did everyone else. Too late now.

“...have…decaf…?”

Steve’s heart swelled, his cheeks flushing.

Lucas and Dustin made eye contact, trying not to laugh or get giddy. Mike and El did, too, along with Will. All the kids were in on it now — thanks to last night’s impromptu sleepover in Max’s room, unbeknownst to the rest of the household. The OG party knew the secret, but they also agreed (thanks to Dustin’s firm warning about Murray’s rampage last night) not to press either you or Steve about it yet. Big emphasis on yet.

Robin poured syrup in slow motion, and Eddie bit back a shit-eating grin. Argyle looked unfazed, though, dishing up a plate of food.

Hopper was grinning down at the pancakes he was serving up, back turned to everyone still. Joyce unabashedly looked like a very happy mama, as Murray’s eyes peeked over the newspaper gleefully.

“Yeah, baby, I do,” Steve said, shooting you a wink and moving to go get some. You blushed at Steve’s returning the pet name. Steve walked towards the large pantry, passing Nancy — who you saw was now standing in the doorway, having heard it too. She looked tired, similarly to Jonathan. You gave her a soft smile, which she reluctantly returned.

Walking towards you, she asked in the smallest of voices —

“How're you feeling?...”

You could tell that something was wrong, wanting to ask but also not. “Shoulder’s screaming, but not broken thankfully. Just out of the socket, Dr. Owens’ popped it back into place. I’ll be alright. Thanks, Nance.”

She gave you a relieved, tight-lipped smile. You gave her as soft a look as you could, and Mike chimed in to break the tension.

“Nancy, I swear, Jonathan’s gonna turn into a palm tree if he keeps blazing it up,” he snorts, the joke very ill-timed. But Dustin’s chuckling, along with Lucas’s, keeps him in a state of oblivion. Something flickers in Nancy's eyes, and to your surprise she chuckles too — humorlessly. Darkly.

“Yeah. You can say that again.”

…so she agrees with her brother’s joke? Nancy moved to dish herself up a plate, expression bitter and her movements aggressive. You felt bad and you didn’t even know why.

Mike definitely looked confused, along with his friends. Will looked concerned, along with Joyce. Mother and son made eye contact.

Steve returned, ready to make a pot of fresh decaf. He brought an extra coffee pot with him. Rich kid perks.

“Morning, Nance,” he acknowledged her, moving to make the coffee.

Her heart seized, voice tight. “Hey.”

Hopper made uncomfortable eye contact with Murray, who buried himself deeper into his chair with the newspaper. He did not account for this sort of awkwardness when going on a rant last night… Hopper shot him a high-raised eyebrow while flipping another pancake.

Steve heated up the pot of decaf, taking a plate that Joyce dished up for him and moving to sit next to you. Mike made room for him, not even questioning it. That made Nancy scoop more than enough eggs onto her plate than necessary.

Hopper clocked it. “You, uhh…need some cheese, or…?”

Joyce gave Hopper a disapproving look, old married couple behavior in full swing. Nancy looked down at her plate, embarrassed. “Oh…n-no, I’m —”

Nancy awkwardly moved to sit down at the table next to Dustin. Robin gulped, knowing what this was all about. Finally, everyone was seated at the table – aside from Steve, who stood to pour you a cup of hot decaf coffee before bringing it over to you. You sipped it, eyes becoming hooded with exhaustion as the pain medication set in. Steve scooted his chair closer so that you could lean on him if needed. Nancy had to peel her eyes away, staring down at her food — playing with it, unable to stomach eating it now.

She couldn’t even be mad. How could she? What right did she have to be mad? And who would she even be mad at? You? Steve? Jonathan?

Herself. She was mad at herself.

That’s what she realized last night, when she and Jonathan didn’t get a wink of sleep in their room. They’d stayed up, hashing it out once and for all. It was a hurricane of sadness, harsh truth and reality – all at once. Words that had been left unsaid. Feelings that had never been expressed. Regrets, empty promises and words of disappointment. All aired out like dirty laundry. He had asked how long she’d been falling for Steve again, which she had countered by asking him how long he had been planning to dump her while he was in California. Jonathan had been stunned into silence, asking how the hell she knew that and if she had spoken to Argyle. Nancy’s eyes, filled with tears, had stared at him with the look of utmost betrayal. “It was a hunch. Until right now.”

Neither of them got closure that night. Nearly 5 hours of back and forth, and it got them nowhere. They went to bed angry. Sad, heartbroken and lost. But sleep didn’t find either of them. Instead, they both stared in opposite directions — backs turned to one another in a shared bed. The morning had re-ignited the argument whenever they heard Dr. Owens arriving, because when Jonathan had moved to get up, Nancy asked him bitterly: “need to go hide your stash?” That started back up all sorts of hissed, whispered arguing.

“Nancy, where’d Jonathan go?” Joyce’s question, soft and a bit worried, rattled Nancy’s thoughts.

“He just…wanted to get some fresh air.”

Everyone was silent. Dr. Owen’s looked up from his files. “It’s really bad out there. He really shouldn’t be breathing any of that in.”

Nancy grit her teeth, fork scraping across her plate and making Robin cringe at the jarring sound.

Mike snorted as he ate more pancakes. “His lungs are already in rough condition as it is. Probably doesn’t even matter.”

Nancy narrowed her eyes down at her plate of toyed breakfast food, nauseas. She nodded her head bitterly, speaking through gritted teeth: “Agreed. What’s it matter? Likely irreparable anyway.”

No one missed the double meaning behind that as she rose to stand and dump her plate into the trash. She quickly made her way out of the room, knowing the damage was already done but not having it in her to care. Nancy couldn’t get away fast enough.

Eddie looked so uncomfortable but also sympathetic. He knew this was a result of last night, along with Robin. They shared a quiet, concerned glance. Mike and the kids were just confused. What was her deal?

Steve’s brow was furrowed, along with yours — however, you were already feeling the medicine kick in so everything was starting to feel fuzzy. Your fingers were wrapped around the hot cup of decaf, warming them. You were wearing a few rings that Eddie had gifted you while in the upside down, and as Steve focused on them now he realized just how hot you looked wearing them. He took in your slightly hooded eyes, moving to stand. “Wanna go lie down?”

You nodded, excusing yourself and thanking Dr. Owens again. He told you that he’d make sure to get the medication later today, then to Eddie — “Hey Munson, let’s go check on how those stitches are holding up, yeah?”

Eddie gulped. He hated needles and doctor tools.

Robin smirked. “Let’s go show him my handywork.” They all moved off to the living room, followed by Hopper.

Joyce looked perplexed still, unsettled by Nancy’s exit. She turned to Will, speaking softly, “Did Jonathan tell you anything? Is something wrong?”

But Will shook his head, shrugging, just as confused and concerned. “Nothing,” he whispered back. “I was gonna ask you that.”

The eldest and youngest Byers looked pensive, thinking. Wondering. Worrying.

Mike’s face was quizzical. “What do you mean? Why would anything be wrong with them?”

An incredulous scoff from behind the newspaper made everyone turn in Murray’s direction. The grouchy man just sipped on his morning cup of poison, minding his business — even though he stuck his nose in everybody else’s.

Joyce’s eyes narrowed at the front page of the Hawkins Press. Of course…

“Hey, Mur?”

Murray cringed at Joyce’s sugary sweet, all-knowing tone… Hesitantly, he lowered the paper by just barely an inch. He internally winced at the motherly eyes that bore into his soul from the table.

“Wanna go help me start clearing out the basement?”

Oh my god, Joyce Byers is going to murder me in Steve Harrington’s basement.

That’s all Murray thought while he set down his newspaper, swigged the last of his drink and followed her downstairs. He began to mentally write his eulogy.

Hopper grunted, setting his fork down. “Ahhh, geez,” he huffed, standing up to follow them.

The kids all eyed each other, left alone at the table — no adults or older teens in sight. What the hell just happened?

***

Steve got you upstairs safely, tucking you into bed and making sure you had water at your bedside table along with a walkie so that you could signal for him if you needed anything. It made you chuckle.

“What?” he asked you, quizzically.

You shook your head. “Still wondering why you’re considered the mom?”

Steve shot you a wry look, no heat in his eyes. You were already beginning to doze off, the better pain meds doing their thing – thanks to Dr. Owens.

With a little shake of his head and fighting a smirk, Steve crouched to kiss your forehead, then your neck.

“Careful, Harrington,” you murmured sleepily. “Don’t wan’g’my heart rate up.”

“Shush, I’m keeping it steady,” his lips murmured into your jaw. You hummed in approval, feeling yourself beginning to drift off as his breathing tickled your neck. Steve whispered that he loved you, and you faintly whispered it back as you fell asleep.

Unable to contain himself, Steve placed his ear to your chest for a moment — listening to your heartbeat. He frowned to himself, hearing the sporadic beat. Thump. Th-thump, thump. Thump thump. His throat started to burn, along with his eyes. But your fingers gently scratching his head, ceasing as you finally fell asleep, kept his emotions at bay.

Steve reluctantly pulled himself a way, pressing a lingering kiss to your hand before making his way out of your bedroom door.

He jogged downstairs to meet with the adults again, checking on Eddie as he was finishing up with Dr. Owens. The older man smiled at Steve.

“I gotta say, Harrington. Your friend’s a natural caretaker. Could be a nurse one day.”

Robin gave a smug grin. “See? I’m not just a band nerd. Turns out, I’m a real geek. A medical one, at that.”

Steve smirked back at her. “Yeah well, hope you like blood and needles and guts.”

“Psh. After the shit we’ve seen?” Robin scoffed. “Think I can handle it.”

“Touché,” Steve nodded.

“Speak for yourself,” Eddie grumbled. “I never wanna see my own blood ever again. I feel like a voodoo doll. Vecna can suck my whole hairy ass.”

“Thaaaank you, Munson,” Robin cringed. “Love that visual.”

“He can honestly suck mine, too.”

Dr. Owens muttering that was ten times more disturbing than Eddie. The three teens were awkwardly quiet, aside from Eddie finally chuckling out of pity. The older man didn’t even notice as he packed up his belongings.

“Alrighty then,” Dr. Owens said politely. “Best be off. I’ll be back tonight with the prescription for your lady.”

Steve blushed slightly at that, giving the doc a thankful nod.

“Keep an eye on her,” Dr. Owen’s said kindly. “She’ll be alright. She’s a tough one. Murray’s got one helluva soldier for a niece.”

“She’s bad to the bone,” Eddie reveled.

“Made of steel,” Steve agreed, fondly and voice soft. But he nibbled at his lip, mind elsewhere. He was still worried, and the doctor could tell.

“Just make sure she stays horizontal and lets those ribs heal. That’ll do her heart some good. And don’t fret. I’ve seen way worse.”

Dr. Owens’ gave a firm pat and squeeze to Steve’s shoulder, hoping it would give him plenty of assurance. Steve gave him a quick, tight-lipped grin, pretending it helped. Robin looked at her best friend worriedly.

With that, Dr. Owen’s made his way out. Hopper met him at the doorway, walking out with him.

“STEVE, WHERE’S THE PUDDING?”

Dustin’s sudden shouts from the kitchen made everyone jump.

“Jesus H. Christ —” Eddie hissed, clutching his heart.

“Henderson,” Steve exhaled, raking a hand through his hair as he turned to march towards the kitchen. “I swear to god.”

“Lemme handle it,” Eddie huffs. “Yo, BUTT MUNCH. WE JUST HAD BREAKFAST.”

Stepdad of the year.

Steve would normally wave off the offered help, being the assigned mother of the group. But even as the kids all made noise with Eddie, he found himself just…letting him take care of it. He needed a break. Needed to think.

“Steve, Joyce is asking where the keys to the basement breaker are,” Erica was asking him as she rounded the corner.

Steve blinked, nodding and wrapping his head around the request. But Robin stepped in, sensing his internal overwhelm.

“I’ll get them,” she told Erica, shooting a quick look at Steve. “Kitchen drawer, yeah?”

He nodded, sighing with relief. Robin made her way there with Erica, and Steve took that as a chance at escape. He could feel his chest tightening, breathing constricting a bit. Yikes, he needed some air. But that wasn’t an option either. Best bet was the nearest empty room. Max’s room was closer than his. Steve quickly bound the stairs, pinching his nose and slipping into the room quietly — needing a moment, just a moment.

El walked out of the hallway restroom, right after Steve had closed the door. She made for the stairs, heading down to find Hopper. When he walked back inside from his chat with Dr. Owens, the two of them made for the basement — telling the kids to follow, while Robin told Lucas she would handle replenishing Max’s feeding tube upstairs. She knew how to, since Dr. Owens had given strict intrusions to not only the adults but also to her. She, along with you and Steve, knew how to handle it thoroughly. Robin found herself oddly keen on helping people with the medical stuff. It gave her a newfound sense of purpose. She headed upstairs, pep in her step — who knows? Maybe she’d found her calling, she wondered to herself.

She opened Max’s door, freezing when she found Steve on the other side of it. Her heart sank.

Her best friend stood leaning against the wall to the right of the door frame — facing Max’s bed. His face was scrunched, pained.

“Steve…” Robin murmured, heartbroken. She quickly shut the door, locking it and placing a hand on his shoulder. The sight of a tear-track on his face, glistening in the gloomy natural light of the room, made her frown.

Steve looked at her for all of a millisecond, feeling caught but unable to stop now. His emotions were definitely catching up with him, and Robin wasn’t surprised — given just how long he’d been keeping shit in. She’d known for a while now: Steve Harrington needed a good, long fucking cry. She watched him pinch the bridge of his nose, his pretty face crumpling even more and shoulders shaking as he bit down on his lip hard.

“Steve, hey, it’s just me,” she whispered kindly, hugging and rubbing his shoulders while resting her chin there. He kept as much noise trapped inside of his throat as possible, mainly just letting it all come out through a quiet flow of steady tears as he stood tensely. He gratefully clasped onto one of Robin’s hands — with the one hand he wasn’t holding to the bridge of his nose with, willing the tears to stop.

“You’re really overdue for this,” Robin nudged him gently, squishing her cheek deeper into the curve of his shoulder. “Seriously, I’ve been wondering when the hell you were gonna let it all out…”

Steve coughed on what seemed to be half a laugh, half a sob. He was frustrated with himself. With everything. Your heart is failing you now and maybe forever. Max is still in a coma. His loved ones are all in danger. His kids can’t catch a break. His parents left. Hawkins is basically dead. And the upside down just gets closer, no matter how many gates they’ve closed over the last 3 years.

SO YEAH. Robin was right. Steve needed to fucking cry.

She stood there with him for a little while, letting her presence comfort him and not pushing. Steve really did hit the jackpot with her in the best friend department.

“Sometimes, I wonder if she’s still there.”

Steve’s voice was thick, low and vibrating the room. Robin knew who he meant, following his gaze. Max.

Robin hummed. “Trust me. That little firecracker is very much alive and can’t wait to tear into all of us with her redheaded temper and sarcastic wit.”

If Robin had been looking at him, she would have seen the corner of Steve’s lips quirk up briefly in amusement. She was right, of course.

“Think she knows?” Robin asks softly, still leaning onto Steve. “About…anything?”

She felt Steve take a deep breath, exhaling deeply as he rubbed his face. “M’not sure,” he murmurs, thoughts grim. “Honestly, I hope not. That’d mean she’s still trapped in there. Somewhere dark. Vile, and awful.”

Robin shuddered at that, hating the thought. She decided to ask something different. Lighter.

“Think she knew you were head over heels for a girl you swore you couldn’t stand?” She turned her head on Harrington’s shoulder so that she was looking up at him with teasing eyes and a wiggling brow. “Vowed to hate, forever and always, cross your heart and hope to die?”

Steve shook his head, beginning to grin. He looked at Max the whole time while doing so, imagining his little sister/daughter figure giving him hell for falling for you but completely loving it. Because while he knew that Max loved him — that little shit loved the hell out of you.

Steve’s frown suddenly returned, face crumpling all over again. It broke Robin’s heart as she watched fresh tears fill his eyes, which he trapped from falling by quickly scrunching his eyes shut again and digging the heels of his palms into them. It made Robin want to bawl. But she held it together for Steve’s sake, lifting her head to turn and hug him tight. She shushed him softly, desperate to calm him. Comfort him, assure him.

Steve sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, forbidding his cries to make noise. He couldn’t. Not right now. He could scream into a pillow later. Right now, he just let Robin hold him until he got it together again.

Eventually, Steve pulled back — swiping at his eyes and nose, sniffing hard. Robin looked at him sadly, rubbing his arms and letting him steady his breathing.

“Jesus, Robin, a heart arrhythmia…”

Robin had a feeling that was what was weighing heavily on Steve’s mind. You, and your newly failing heart. It made her upset, too. Deeply upset. It worried her sick. But she couldn’t let Steve sense that. Not right now. She needed to be there for him — and by extension, you.

“We’re gonna steady it, Steve,” Robin promised, voice low but fierce.

Steve shuddered a sigh, eyes downcast and mind racing as he carded his fingers through his hair. “It’s the end of the fucking world and all our heart rates are already on edge as it is —”

“So we keep her here,” Robin interrupted, gently. “Out of harm’s way, as best we can. We don’t let her put herself in a position to freak out.” She paused, thinking. “Yknow, come to think of it, Bauman’s probably the coolest outta all of us big kids. Pretty sure that chick has freaked out the least.”

Steve rolled his eyes fondly. Oh, you. “Yeah, because she’s a fucking sociopath like her uncle.”

Robin genuinely laughed at that, unable to help it. Steve smiled, too. But a few tears met the smile and the breathy laugh he let out. Robin thumbed them away sweetly.

“She’s great,” Robin told him. “Really great. Stupid great. Maybe my favorite lady I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. Aside from Vicki.”

Steve sniffed. “You tryna steal my girl?”

Robin cocked an eyebrow, happy to hear him teasing. Good, it’s working. “Oh, so she is your girl now, huh? Exclusive, off-limits?”

Steve bit back a big, bashful smile — looking at her almost shyly and nudging her foot with his shoe. He turned to look at Max, nodding in her direction.

“Think she’d approve?”

Robin looked at the sleeping girl, too. She smiled sadly. “Depends. Of you two as a pair? Yeah. You’re mom and dad. As far as she’s concerned, neither one of you has anyone else out there deserving of you both. So I’d assume she feels you guys deserve each other more than anyone else deserves either of ya.”

Steve actually smiled at that, eyes sparkling as he looked at Max. He took a minute to take in her still form, thinking back to when he first met her with the kids. She was a badass. You’d have thought she’d been fighting monsters all her life. She actually took better to the whole upside down shit than he had, whenever he went over to Jonathan Byers’ house to apologize then got roped into all the madness. He had to give it to her: Max was hardcore.

“I really need this shithead to wake up,” Steve chuckled humorlessly.

Robin did, too, squeezing his arm as she shook her head at Max’s sleeping face hooked up to a breathing tube. “When she does…it’ll be a helluva reunion.”

Steve liked that. When.

“And whennn your girl gets her strength back,” Robin continued, “along with her ribs back in tact, you know…given you, Byers and Munson took her to pound town…”

Steve made a face. “Gross. Don’t say that, no.”

“Damn, Harrington, get your head outta the gutter,” Robin popped her hip into Steve’s side. “Even when I’m being serious, talking about resuscitation — not sex…you’re still jealous…at a hypothetical.”

Steve gave her a wry look, but then placed his cheek on top of her head as he looked at Max.

“As I was saying…” Robin murmured, a smile in her voice. “When your girl is back up to speed, she will give you all the heart attacks to make up for it. You won’t be able to stand her guts but you’ll be so in love with her it won’t matter. And then Max will wake up…give you two shit for it…then be a mess of joy because the two babysitters turned enemies have suddenly become lovers.” Robin paused, smiling to herself. “And I’ll be the happiest, proudest, most sappy-go-lucky best friend in the world.”

Steve breathed a sigh at that, content. It brought him peace in this moment — the idea of you, perfectly fine and all in one piece. The idea of his kid waking up, her memory still intact along with her sarcasm and quick wit. The idea of his best friend being so happy to see him so happy.

He threw an arm around her, and the two best friends just stood there for another several moments to revel in the quiet of it all — allowing themselves to dream. Allowing themselves to believe.

***

Meanwhile, Eddie definitely did not feel guilty for having eaten the last 3 puddings that Henderson had selfishly stashed for himself. Little bro’s just gonna have to cope, he thought to himself as he jogged up the stairs.

He almost broke into song, Master of Puppets rambling on inside his head -- but stopped himself when he heard voices. Tense voices.

Eddie’s pace came to a slow, and he became not only more aware of his steps — but the voices, too. Where they were coming from…to whom they belonged…

"So he was then. He was going to break up with me."

"Listen, I...I realllllllly don't wanna...speak outta term here..."

Only one guy under this roof talked that slowly, and only one lady under this roof spoke with that crisply.

Argyle and Nancy.

"Look, just -- tell me exactly what he said."

"That is what he said, man, I swear..."

Eddie could hear Nancy huffing exasperatedly. For a rich family, Steve's parents' house had some really cheap, thin doors...

He crept closer, still standing a few paces down. Just in case he needed to bolt, should someone catch him listening in -- or in case one of the two speaking on the other side of the door barged out of the room. Eddie listened, his senses on high alert and his curiosity burning.

"Then he was going to break up with me -- God, I knew it. I just knew it!"

Wait, Eddie thought. Jonathan was going to break up with her...? And Argyle knew...? But then...wait, then how did Nancy...?

"Look, Nancy," Argyle was sighing, sounding pretty worried despite his usual lackadaisical tone. "He didn't want to, alright? I'm a bro. I know when a brother's down bad, he was just freaking himself out, you know -- because of where you wanna go to college...where he wants to go to college..."

"Oh, that is so NOT an excuse."

"Which is whyyy I told him to talk to you --"

"Then why didn't he. Huh? Why didn't he??"

Eddie gulped. He could hear the genuine hurt and betrayal in Nancy's voice. Sheez, Byers was in for one helluva fight...

"Honestly, I'm asking myself that too, Nancy," Argyle was huffing this out, matching her energy. Even he sounded exasperated with his best bro. "But I'm also remembering that...like...that creepy Vecna dude kinda threw off everybody's groove. I mean -- I came to pick them up from the house and it was all getting shot up and stuff, liiiike...shit kinda hit the fan...you know...?"

"That's...still, that's not..."

"Annnnd you guys were all caught up in the shit going down back in Hawkins, man...you know? Chrissy, and...that coworker of yours, annnnd...that other random dude who hung out with... shiiiit, what was his name...? Jake...?"

"Jason," Nancy muttered lowly.

"That guy."

"Look -- Argyle." Nancy huffed again, flustered at life but regaining her edge. "Upside down stuff aside, Jonathan still took the time to talk this out with you. Not me, you. For weeks."

There was an awkward pause before Argyle spoke.

"...yeah, that's pretty bad..."

"He could have called. He could have written me. He could've, he could've, he could've. But he didn't."

"Why didn't you tell him that?"

"...what?"

Oh shit, Eddie gulped.

"Whenever we all got back here," Argyle explained. "Back in Hawkins. Why didn't you confront him about it?"

Another awkward silence.

"...I..." Nancy stumbled.

"Why didn't you go up to him, call his ass out, and call him out for not talking to you?" Argyle was suddenly sounding pretty sure of himself. It was out now character for him. Oddly? It suited him.

"I...I..."

Meanwhile, Nancy was uncharacteristically not sounding sure of herself.

Argyle gained speed.

"Think about it! You say you knew something was off...you say he was giving you mixed signals...you say he got back and suddenly acted like everything was fine, but that you sensed things still were not fine...so then why let it go? Why not tell him yourself? You're a loud woman."

"Whoa, what?" Nancy stuttered.

"You are!!! That's a compliment! You're loud and proud. You wear the damn pants. You have a gun collection. You don't hold back, even if you don't say fully what it is that you mean. Your poker face is shit."

"Argyle...!"

"You've been avoiding it too, Nancy," Argyle cut her off.

At this point, Eddie was frozen as he listened. Damn. When did Argyle become a therapist?

Clearly, Nancy was asking herself the same thing. Because it was quiet. Severely quiet.

Eddie started tracing shapes into the carpet with his mind while he stared at the ground, waiting to hear more dialogue. But it was crickets.

Finally, he heard Argyle sighing deeply. "Maybe if you both just...I dunno, man...listened to each other. Like...heard one another. You both just keep using whatever it is that you ask each other to like...one up each other...and it doesn't get either of you anywhere, man... Just hear each other out."

A tap on Eddie's shoulder made him flinch back, nearly jumping out of his skin. He whipped around to see Robin, staring at him with wide eyes. She held a finger to her lips.

Eddie couldn't believe that he managed to keep the scream trapped inside of him. He sagged with relief, heart pounding and silently pantomiming strangling her. Don't scare me like that. Her head bobbed back and forth as he shook her by the shoulders, and together they realized that they were both in on the secret:

Nancy and Jonathan are not alright.

Together, they softly crept down the hallway into Steve's bedroom. As Robin closed the door, Eddie whirled around to speak in a hissed whisper.

"Holy shit, what the fuck, this is like a soap opera --"

"Shhhhh," Robin hissed back, swatting at him to keep quiet.

"I'm literally whispering."

"And spitting."

"Sorry."

They continued whispering through gritted teeth, relieved to have each other to confide in. Eddie and Robin were beginning to feel like the zany aunt and uncle of the group who knew too much about everything going on around the house. It bonded them for sure. They knew about you and Steve, which also became a topic of whispered conversation right now as they sat cross-legged on the floor of Steve's bedroom.

"Sorry, but can we talk about how off we were trying to push Wheeler back on Harrington?" Eddie's eyebrows were raised practically to the top of his hairline.

Robin scoffed at themselves, shaking her head. "I'll say..."

"It was right there under our noses and we just..." Eddie moved his hand in a straight line, "...breeeeezed onnnnn past it."

"Yeah, but honestly?" Robin whispered eagerly. "I thought Bauman hit a sore spot that could never be repaired. Steve seriously was in love with Nancy. Like, really in love."

Eddie chuckled lowly, shaking his head. "Trust me. I said the same thing. To his face directly, while we were in the upside down. Told him that what Wheeler did -- diving into the lake after him -- was the most unambiguous sign of true love I'd ever seen in my life." He paused, thinking. "But what I failed to realize was that...it was Bauman who freaking lunged for him first on the boat. And the way he clung to her hand, despite also looking mad at her for doing that --"

Eddie was reliving the memory, realizing something. Robin was, too.

"He was mad that she put her life on the line," Robin nodded along, slowly stitching together his thoughts.

"But it was just so fast," Eddie pointed out as he agreed. "Literally, one moment Harrington's back to the surface, getting ready to hop back on the boat. Next, he's being tugged down by that -- that thing... And Bauman just -- lunged for him. And he grabbed her hand, but the look he shot her?... It was so...conflicted..."

Robbin nodded, swallowing hard. "Like he grabbed her hand back gratefully, but also hated what she'd just done to herself by putting her life on the line."

"Which is whyyyy," Eddie continued, figuring it all out. "Whenever she got dragged underneath with him, and the two of them went at it -- bickering like crazy when we all got down there with 'em and fought off the bats...he was so mad at her. And she was mad that he was mad."

Robin scoffed a laugh, pace palming. "And all we saw was Nancy diving in after him --"

"After Bauman already beat her to it," Eddie muffled into his palms. “Duuuuude, they’re so in love. Been love. Unambiguously in love.”

"We are idiots," Robin giggled, face palming.

"Not as big as they are, though," Eddie corrected, snorting. They both snickered like big kids into their hands, trying to keep quiet.

Eddie finally sighed, thinking fondly. "Those two are actually stupid fucking adorable."

Robin smiled wistfully. "Yeah. Yeah, they are." She bit her lip, thinking. "Honestly, I've...I've never seen Steve this torn up."

She told Eddie how worried she was for her best friend. How worried she was for you. How desperately she wished that all of this would go away. How she prayed that Max would wake up, and that Vecna would choke on his own guts and that the upside down would cease to exist.

Eddie nodded, eyes solemn as he gnawed on his cheek. "I wish I could've known Chrissy better."

Robin's brows pinched together. She could see the genuine remorse -- maybe even regret -- in Eddie's eyes. Had there been...feelings there...?

"Wish that I'd..." Eddie mumbled, eyes on the ground searching for the words. "That I'd just...I don't know. Tried to notice, or care about something other than living in my own world all the time."

Robin gave his hand a squeeze, shooting him a synaptic tight-lipped smile. Eddie squeezed her hand back, gratefully.

"You're doing that now," Robin reminded him softly. "Chrissy sees that."

Eddie looked at her, his eyes going glassy. He looked like a sweet puppy when he got emotional. Robin noted just how wholesome that was as she placed her other hand on top of theirs.

"We seriously need to kill this son of a bitch," Eddie whispered, angered anguish briefly flashing in his dark eyes.

Robin nodded fiercely. "We will."

They took a few moments to just be in silence, letting it all land.

A light knock at the door broke through the tranquility of the silence, concluding the tender moment. Eddie and Robin looked at Steve's bedroom door, taking a second before Robin rose to answer it. Eddie figured that was best, given she is the platonic soulmate of the room's owner.

Neither of them were sure what to expect exactly, as far as who was on the other side of the door. Robin half expected it to be Steve himself. Eddie's expectations looked a lot like one of the kids.

So when they saw Jonathan standing on the other side, that made them all go stiff.

He still looked awful. Eyes rimmed red from exhaustion, a little bloodshot. His hair was messy, not sure how to sit on his head. These days, Jonathan looked haggard. While he was never the pretty-boy type, Jonathan was always good looking in a moody, brooding sort of way. The unconventionally attractive type. Lately? He just looked worn down, tired and a little bit like a bum. Definitely not the type of guy you would expect Nancy Wheeler to be going steady with, given how polished and precise she is. Opposites attract, but at this rate the two of them were becoming contrasts of one another.

"Hey," Jonathan said softly, timidly. He looked caught, but so did Robin and Eddie as he looked at both of them.

"Hey," they awkwardly repeated.

After a long, awkward, pregnant pause, Jonathan finally cleared his throat and gave his legs a little pat -- as if that might help break the tension.

"Is uhh, is Steve here?"

Robin shook her head. "No, he's with Bauman. I told him to go take a nap, since Dr. Owens got her so early and I know he's not sleeping."

Jonathan's eyes softened, looking sympathetic and giving her a light nod. He scratched his neck. Eddie clocked some weird sort of guilty glint in his eye. Like something was really on his mind and he needed to get it off his chest. There was almost an anxious twitch to him.

Eddie began to realize that he knew what this was about. About why Jonathan was looking for Steve, and why he looked so glum. So anxious.

Because Eddie was there that day. When you fell. When you died. When Jonathan tried to step in and bring you back, before Steve was finally able to step in. Eddie was there, watching it all happen. He watched Steve fall apart, fraying at the seams. He watched Jonathan exhaust himself with the attempted CPR. He watched how it completely exerted him, no doubt thanks to the lack of decent nutrition and lung damage that was due to the purple palm tree delight. That had to have to have set Jonathan's lungs on fire, as he desperately tried pumping air back into your lungs. Eddie had watched Jonathan lean back, only for Steve to verbally tear into him.

DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING STOP.

IT'S NOT WORKING, IT'S TOO LATE.

NONE OF US GAVE UP ON YOUR BROTHER. FUCK YOU, BYERS. FUCK YOU.

The storm of words between Harrington and Byers was no doubt long overdue. That was evident with every single word that Steve spat at Jonathan, and every word that Jonathan bitterly wept. Both men had shrieked at each other, shrill and angry and hurt.

Eddie had watched as they both went at it, Steve lashing out and Jonathan feebly fighting back. He might not have been close with them in high school. He might have run in completely different circles than them. He might not have known anything about the two of them, or what sort of crucial role they played in each other's lives, or how the upside down not only existed but also forced them to merge worlds. But fast forward to yesterday, when you were dead at everyone's feet and no one knew if they would save you -- Eddie saw 3 years of unspoken words go flying between Steve and Jonathan. He watched it all unfold, ugly and loud and anguished.

Because while Steve might have found some sort of silent (albeit avoidant) peace that he inwardly had made with Jonathan Byers, his bitterness was still there. Festering, festering, festering...never truly unloading itself whenever he projected onto you.

Because you hadn't taken Nancy away. Jonathan had.

Maybe that's partly why Steve got so livid with Jonathan. Because he could now. Now that you were gone, or so they'd thought, he had no choice but to scream at Jonathan. To finally let him have it.

FUCK YOU BYERS. FUCK YOU.

Steve had screamed that in Jonathan's face, voice wrecked from angry tears and shrieks of pure fear. It was fucking personal.

And Jonathan had taken it. Like he deserved it. Because maybe a part of him did. Maybe, just maybe, a big part of him did. Not because he wasn't a decent guy. Hell no, Byers was a great dude. He had just...lost his way. And that was fine. But really, he wasn't as present as usual -- given his more frequently ~high~ state, and his newfound friendship with Argyle. That wasn't a bad thing. It just...changed things.

Eddie had watched Byers go from the super observant, introverted wallflower to a nonchalant, low-key absent-minded, slightly lazy guy. Not nearly as driven as before. Not that he was ever this super academic, wildly driven type to begin with. Still, there had been something more to Byers prior to now. Something alive. Lately? Byers looked like he was simply surviving. Doing just a bit more than the bare minimum to get by.

Meanwhile, Steve had grown exponentially. He'd gone from being an entitled, snobbish rich kid who made C's and D's to a street-smart hero who knew how to protect and care for both kids and his friends, along with being trusted by the adults involved in all of these terrifying circumstances. He wasn't the teacher's pet growing up, but he certainly was the favorite now. He was Steve Harrington: bad boy turned supermom/superboy. He wasn't quite superman. He'd lost the girl, because Lois Lane had chosen Bruce Wayne over him. But along the way, he'd unexpectedly fallen for Gotham City's badass princess who floated under the radar until she found her way into the circle of Hawkins Heroes -- the upside down underdogs. Steve was strong, he was loyal and he was true.

So that afternoon next to the electric fence, those two men were having a 3-year standoff without even truly acknowledging it. It was bound to blow up in their faces at some point. And you had been the catalyst.

Eddie took all of that in by looking at Jonathan Byers as he stood in Steve Harrington's doorway, looking into the eyes of the former jock's best friend and his new unexpected friend of a metalhead.

"When he's up...I need to speak with him."

Jonathan's voice shook a bit, nervously. But he made eye contact with both Robin and Eddie. His eyes were sincere, remorseful and eager. "Please."

***

:) thank u all for reading. thoughts on this chapter? guesses as to what might go down? TAGLIST: @xprloki @erastourvip @get0ut0fmyr00m @Eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00 @poppet05 @wiltedflowersundertowers Originalthingparadise Pleuviors pumpkinonice Ihaveproblemsihaveproblems Brinleighsstuff Definitelynotherr sucker-4-angst notlilyyyy

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roanofarcc · 1 year ago

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PROJECT SUNSHINE

the complete masterlist or read on Ao3

stranger things season 1-5. a steve harrington x hawkins lab!oc

when another product of Hawkins National Laboratory finds herself fleeing from a long survived nightmare, she crashes into the life of one unsuspecting teenage boy. together, they are dragged into the dark mysteries that begin to consume the small town of Hawkins, Indiana.

SEASON ONE. the lost children of Hawkins, Indiana

SEASON TWO. the return

SEASON THREE. the cruel summer

SEASON FOUR. the deal with god

SEASON FIVE. the end

coming soon...

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x orginal character #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #stranger things au #project sunshine #stranger things moodboard #byler #jancy #jopper #elmike #willel

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skyfallslayer · 8 months ago

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Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter Three

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: An Increasingly concerned Nancy looks for Barb and finds out what Jonathan’s been up to. The boys pair up with El for an investigation. Joyce is convinced that Will and Steph are trying to talk to her. Meanwhile, Steve feels like someone’s watching his every move.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 15,209 (Oh, lord)

🎲Date: 05/27/24

🎲Warnings: Angst; Heavy Language & Dialogue; References To Broken Friendship; Talks of Kidnapping; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Talks of Mental Health Issues; Bullying of All Kinds; Physical Fighting; Lying; "Death"; Crying (Lots of it); Brief Mention of Corpses; Gun Use; Implied Unloving Parents; Will & Steph's Mental Strain - Joyce's Too; Hopper Being a Great Cop & A Total Mess; Dustin Being a Gangster & A Total Mess; Steve's 'Asshole Era'; Steve's Emotional Damage. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

-This also contains me not knowing how the fuck the Upside Down works despite so much research.-

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: So… this is a very long, very intense one. Very emotional too. Hopefully y'all are ready for this. I notice a lot of you readers are spitting out theories and I can't help but love them. But unfortunately I have to stay silent and let you guess wait 🤭. While rewatching this episode, I totally forgot how fucking good of an actress Winona Ryder is. Seriously, rewatch the scenes with her and the lights again and you'll see. Any who, Happy Memorial Day everyone! Enjoy!

Steve practically had to “bully” Tommy into taking his girlfriend home last night. It was hard for him to make eye contact with her after their argument – A real argument, not just some mindless bickering they’ve done in the past that doesn’t pack much heat, but a real, real argument – and when she came back to his room only a few minutes later telling him that Barb must have left already and needed a ride, he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

Was this making him feel and look like a coward? Probably. But it’s not like he didn’t want to risk having another eye opening conversation with her again.

Eye opening, my ass. There was no “eye opening”. I’m just being paranoid. But was he though?

Nancy, oh, sweet Nancy, always talked about how she was aiming for journalism as her major. For a while, to be honest, he couldn’t really see it. Sure, curiosity was practically tattooed on her heart, but the months they’ve been dating he hasn’t seen anything else that screams “I’m a Journalist”.

That was until last night.

He’s not sure why he never put that box away after their friendship ended, he doesn’t know why he didn’t just stuff it into his closet or under his bed, but the fact that someone had found it in his spot he called “out of sight, out of mind” shocked him. The little box that could fit under his dresser, completely oblivious to anyone who stands next to it. Of course out of all the days for someone to finally have spotted it was the day he brought his girlfriend to his home (Still, it might have been better for her to find it rather than his parents. They sure were… nosy).

And of course she would be the one to break him down when he was trying to forget, forget because it was the best option here.

And his girlfriend was smart, one of the traits he most admired, and she could read through his lies most of the time, a trait he hates. Loathe. But… did he really think he could have avoided all this? That once he put a lid on their friendship she would suddenly vanish? Every single thing about Stephanie Henderson would be forgotten? That was the plan, the “dream” so to speak. I guess dreams don’t always stay dreams unless you put work into them.

“So who is she to you?” Nancy asked, standing up and flashing the memorabilia at him.

She was just… just some kid he knew since they were five. Nothing more than that, It shouldn’t be more than that. She was just some girl that had confidence radiating out of her as they lock pinkies and swore–

“I’m not jealous. I’m just curious.” Nancy replies, honestly. She takes another look at the photos in her hand before looking back at him. “I mean, if she isn’t your friend anymore, then why do you hang on to all this stuff? Or better question–”

“Nancy, stop, it’s just–”

“Why did you break it off?”

His brain short circuits again. “What?”

“I said, ‘Why did you break it off?’ I mean…” She flips through some of the photos he has, memorized. “From what I see, you two remind me of Barb and I. You two look like you were tied at the hip. So why break it off?”

Because he had to. He needed to. God knows if he didn’t, her and her family would be… Jeez. He could barely remember it, not wanting to remember it.

The memory was blurry. So blurry. Maybe it was the many hits in the head for his shitty memory, or maybe he was really, really trying not to remember it.

What was his parents planning on doing again that made him so… scared?

“Look, I just want to understand you. I mean, every time I think I have you figured out you throw me through a loop.” She gives him a reassuring look as she picks up the box, shuffling whatever was remaining around. “I mean, from what I see, you seem like a completely different person then. I just wonder if it’s a good thing or a bad–”

No… no. He still doesn’t understand what she meant. He hasn’t “changed”. He’s still the same person since the day he was born. What was she even getting that from? A couple glances at some photos gave her a new impression of him? There’s no way. It’s laughable. It’s totally laughable. Everything that’s happened between him and Henderson was totally laughab–

“‘CAUSE IT WAS MY FAULT!! OKAY?!” Steve snaps, startling them both (He can’t believe he just lost his cool like that). He swallows again, head spinning at the memories (Why did he fucking leave the box right there?). “I just… there was an incident and… it… shaped my decision, okay? But it didn’t involve me or her with a gun, it was… s-someone else. Someone I know. I don’t know why I’m holding onto it, I…”

That certainly wasn’t laughable.

Sometimes that memory is hazy, which he preferred, but the other times it was crystal clear. Too clear. Just a heated exchange between him and someone else just before it went to shit. He still remembers the pain in his bicep, the wind feeling like it was getting knocked out of him with someone’s loud scream. Then came the sinking realization that Henderson wasn’t bouncing up to her feet like he did.

It still… fucks with him sometimes. Taunting. Haunting. Torturing.

Nancy breaks eye contact, and only reverses it when she gathers the right words. “Look, Steve, I’m sorry I intruded, I probably shouldn’t have but… I’m just trying to understand you.”

Steve shakes his head, still confused. “I-I…” He shrugs, and crosses his arms defensibly. “What’s there to understand?”

Exactly. There’s nothing. N-O-T-H-I-N-G. Nothing. She doesn’t need to go digging around Pandora’s box.

But Nancy looked at him with eyes full of pity and took another step closer. “I don’t know what the reason was for you two to stop being friends, but all I know, from what I gathered, she wasn’t the one to end it.” She places Steph’s flier on his chest that he subconsciously grabbed, and said one last thing before leaving his room. And that was,

“Maybe there was a good reason for you to end it, but that’s not an excuse for you to stop being who you really are.”

But I haven’t changed. I’ve been the same person since I was born. Even his own gut coiled at his denial. The heaven’s beyond were probably busting a lung. Hell was shaking its head. He just keeps telling himself that lie and maybe it’ll come true one day.

Yeah, right.

This boy’s been telling himself that for almost two years now and hasn’t even sunk in yet.

Steve sighs, rolling in his bed to face his alarm clock; The red numbers glaring at him. It hadn’t even gone off yet, he still has about an hour but…

Another sigh. School. Right.

He didn’t even feel like going, too mentally exhausted from staying up pretty much all night, completely alone with his thoughts – His very dangerous, troubling thoughts. He didn’t want to go, but his parents were going to be home any minute now from their trip and were not going to be happy if they saw him just lying around. They were surely going to berate him for missing a day of learning. Except...

Fuck. Going wasn’t an option, his brain hurts and his body was dragging and he really, really didn’t want to see Nancy’s pitiful eyes, or listen to Tommy’s mocking, or Carol’s sexified comments. Fuck, no. Fuck.

Where can he hide out for the next eight hours? He started putting what was left of brain together as he threw something on, not even trying to dress to impress today, and snagged his precious car keys. He is about a foot outside his bedroom when something tells him to stop. His chocolate eyes stare at the box on the end of his bed, something deep inside tells him not to leave it unoccupied.

He swallows, wanting to tell his subconscious to fuck off and leave him be, but…

“Fuck it.” He races back over, making sure the lid was on before taking it with him.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

It’s been… how many days since then? They don’t know. They stopped counting every time they ran into trouble. Like… right now. Traumatized by the beast pulling an innocent woman into the Harringtons’ pool and violating her before coming after them. They were lucky to have some kind of head start or otherwise they might have been goners. But–

Jesus. It was getting hard to breathe in this place, the cold weather was getting to them too.

Eventually, miraculously, they had escaped from their predator when their bodies finally gave out.

“Fuck.” Stephanie gasped as the two of them collapsed in someone’s backyard. They both sat on their hands and knees, a line of sweat dripping off their icy noses. She sniffles and pants, her breath being seen in the air. “This is getting ridiculous.”

It really, really was. They can’t even take a break without worrying if that thing would come after them.

How am I supposed to figure out how to get out of here if I can’t even stop to think? She sits back on her news, frowning. “Why does it keep coming after us?”

Will sneezes, and sniffles before resting his body against the side of the random house. He starts fiddling with his frigiding fingers, worried if he was going to say something wrong. “I don’t think this time it was. It looks like it was attacking someone else.”

“That’s true.” She sighs, taking her cap off for a second to rest. “However, we either were at the wrong place at the wrong time, or that thing was following us and grabbed the first prey it saw.”

He nods. “Yeah. But that doesn’t explain where the person came from. Does… that mean we aren’t the only people here?”

“I don’t know.” Are there actually more people here? “I mean, I guess on the bright side, if more people are going missing someone’s gotta know what’s going on, right?”

That honestly didn’t cross her mind at all while being here. She was so worried about keeping herself and especially Will alive that she didn’t think about what was going on on the other side. How was her family reacting? His family too? And what about the town? Did the police actually give a fuck this time?

I really hope it’s Hopper. He seems like the only one who gave shit last time. Stephanie prays he’s on her case as she subconsciously tries to grab the chain around her neck, only to find nothing. Her heart sinks as she looks down and feels around the front of her shirt.

“Shit.” She says, dreadfully. Did she really lose her–

“What?” Will replies, concerned.

“Uh, I just…” Fuck. “I just uh, lost my necklace.” She frowns again. “I didn’t even realize it.”

Now it was his turn to look sad (I guess you could say he was just copying her expression). “We can go look for it if you like.”

She’s already shaking his head. “No. It’s okay. I could have lost it on the first day here without realizing it.”

“Can you replace it?”

“It’s… I don’t know. It was a gift.” She looks over at him, his expression seems so broken over her confession. “It’s okay, Will. It’s not a big deal.”

“I know, but still.”

Stephanie couldn’t help but crack a small smile on her peach lips, and ruffle the boy’s hair. “Don’t ever change, kid. You’ve got a good little heart.” That seemed to do the trick because the boy blushed and seemed all proud of himself.

“Do you think it’s safe to rest here for a bit?” Will asked, as she looked around.

“Yeah.” She nods. “I think we’ll be fine. How about you pull out the blanket?”

They both shrug their backpacks off, and keep their guns by their sides pointed safely away; Will unrolls the blanket they took from her house and scoots closer. Steph tucks the fabric under their feet before the boy snuggles up to her side. Dying from the cold was off the menu for the both of them. For most of the time they stayed quiet, controlling their breathing and rubbing their cold hands in their laps.

“There’s something I don’t understand though.” Will blurted out. I guess this was the thought that came to mind in the moment of silence.

“And what’s that?” The older girl asked, sparing him a glance.

“If that thing is supposed to… you know, kill people, then why bring them here?” He stares up at her nervously. “Why not just kill us in our world? Why the extra hassle to bring us here?”

Her eyes widened slightly, those words hitting her like a truck. “That’s… a good question.” A really good question. It was something else she hasn’t thought about either. If the beast could go between worlds, why bring them here for the kill?

Will must have noticed the wheels turning in the girls head and looks down hopelessly. “It’s going to be hard for people to find us then, right?”

Stephanie says nothing, and gnaws on her bottom lip because he’s right. If they’re stuck in another world then…

How are their loved ones going to know?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

When Jonathan woke up the next day he wasn’t expecting his mother to be leaving before he did. “Mom? Where are you going?” He asked, as she stopped upon hearing him speak.

“Oh, I’m going to town. I’m going to pick up a few things.” She replies, putting her belongings into her purse. “I was… you know, thinking about maybe getting some stuff Will likes to eat so he can have it when he gets home. Or, you know–”

“Mom?”

“And maybe a new phone? Our old one’s obviously not fine, so–”

“Mom?” Jonathan tries again, getting a hum. “You sure you’re okay going by yourself? I can miss school again if you don’t feel comfortable yet.”

“No, no, don’t do that. Go… I just need to get out of the house. I’ve been stuck in here for a few days.” Joyce replies, reassuring her oldest. “I’ll be okay.”

“Okay.” He nods. “But if something happens just… call the school and I’ll be there.”

“Okay.” She says, giving her a quick hug. “Thank you, sweetie. I’ll see you later.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

In the early morning at the Wheeler’s house, the boys were planning a mission to finally figure out what happened to their friends.

“We just tell our parents we have AV Club after school. That’ll give us at least a few hours for Operation Mirkwood.” Mike explains, the three of them gathered around the upside down D&D board.

“You seriously think that the weirdo knows where Will and Steph are?” Lucas said, making the other boy eye roll.

“Just trust me on this, okay? Did you get the supplies?”

“Yeah.” He nods, and shows off what he’s got. “Binoculars... from ‘Nam. Army knife... also from ‘Nam. Hammer, camouflage bandana…” He grins. “And the wrist rocket.”

Dustin looks at him strangely, almost laughing. “You’re gonna take out the Demogorgon with a slingshot?”

“First of all, it’s a wrist rocket. And second of all, the Demogorgon’s not real. It’s made up. But if there is something out there, I’m gonna shoot it in the eye–” Lucas snaps the rubber and startles his friend. “And blind it.”

“Dustin, what did you get?” Mike asked, trying to get straight to the point.

“Well, alrighty.” Dustin starts pouring stuff out of his bag, also proud of what he grabbed (Which is totally not what Mike told him to bring). “So, we’ve got... Nutty Bars, Bazooka, Pez, Smarties, Pringles, Nilla Wafers, apple, banana, and trail mix.”

“Seriously?” Lucas said, disappointed.

“We need energy for our travels. For stamina. And besides, why do we even need weapons anyway?” He points to the girl on the couch. “We have her.”

“She shut one door!”

“With her mind! Are you kidding me? That’s insane!” Dustin could almost laugh with all the stuff he could think of about her powers. “Imagine all the other cool stuff she could do. Like…” He quickly looks around and grabs a giant toy version of the Millennium Falcon. “I bet that she could make this fly!” He stands in front of El and holds it out. “Hey. Hey. Okay, concentrate. Okay?” He lets go of the toy that quickly drops to the floor. “Okay, one more time. Okay. Use your powers, okay?”

“Idiot.” Lucas mumbles once the toy drops to the floor again.

Mike sighs. “She’s not a dog!” He says, taking it away from him.

“Boys!” Karen calls out from above. “Time for school!”

He crouches down in front of Eleven as the rest of his friends make their way up stairs. “Just stay down here. Don’t make any noise, and don’t leave. If you get hungry, eat Dustin’s snacks, okay?”

“Michael!”

“Coming!” Why must he be rushed? “You know those power lines?”

“Power lines?” El asked, confused.

“Yeah. The ones behind my house?”

“Yes.”

“Meet us there, after school.”

“After school?”

“Yeah, 3:15.” It took a second for Mike to realize that she didn’t understand. “Ah. Hang on.” He unstraps his watch and ties around her own wrist. “When the numbers read three-one-five, meet us there.”

“‘Three-one-five’.” She repeats.

He nods. “Yeah. Three-one-five.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

“Did you get any rest?”

Her tired blue eyes looked back at him, his face scrunched up in concern for the girl that almost tripped two seconds ago. And to answer his question, it was ‘no’. Their little rest had turned into sleep, but once again she couldn’t dare close her eyes with the beast lurking somewhere (She’s honestly surprised she’s still standing at this point).

“Yeah, I got a little.” She said, hoping that sounded convincing.

Will narrows his eyes and steps in front of her, stopping them from walking any further. “No you didn’t.”

“Will–”

“Why aren’t you getting any sleep?”

She sucks in a breath. Guess there was no point in arguing with a twelve year old. “Because I’m keeping an eye out.” She tries taking a step around him but he follows.

“That’s bullshit.” He replies, shocking her (She’s honestly heard him cuss before. Which is ironic since he hangs out with three boys that act like cussing is their first language).

“Will, it’s true. I’m keeping an eye out.”

“Yeah, I understand. But you can’t keep missing sleep because of that.”

“Someone’s got to protect you. Just like I promise.”

“Well how are you supposed to do that when you can barely stand?” That seemed to strike a nerve. “Can you just… next time we sleep, I’ll watch and you actually sleep.”

“Will–”

“And, if I hear something, I’ll wake you up immediately. How’s that?”

Well… she can’t say no to that face. She sighs. “Okay. I’ll sleep.” She replies, getting him to smile. “But you wake me up if you hear anything, okay? Don’t you even think about doing the opposite and handling it yourself. I don’t want you to wound up hurt or dead. Got it?”

“Got it.”

The two of them continued their unwanted detour that ended up being Hawkins’ little downtown. This place looked more like the apocalypse than their neighbourhoods. Dark, abandoned, quiet and completely trashed. It seemed a little scarier to walk around than the previous routes they took.

“Maybe we can hide out somewhere here?” Will asked, as they stopped at an intersection to look around.

“Possibly. If anything’s open we can. I want to avoid making too much ruckus in case that’s what attracts the monster.” Steph said, thinking.

They walked slowly and carefully by each store, peeking inside to see if anything got their attention. Stephanie blissfully sighs upon seeing a familiar sign and points.

“Dude, I kill for some chicken parmesan right now.” She says, smiling at the thought of eating Italian at ‘Enzo’s’.

“Hmm, meatball’s sounds good. But I think I really want my mom’s Sloppy Joes.” Will admits, and can already picture it in front of him.

“Sloppy Joes are awesome too. I wouldn’t mind eating that when I get back either. Then Enzo’s.”

“Totally Enzo’s.” He chuckles. “Uh, so when we do get out of here, how do we explain this to someone?”

“What? This?” She gestures to the open air. “You mean that telling the authorities that we were abducted by an eight foot tall creature with just a mouth and brought to a creepier version of Hawkins doesn’t sound truthful?”

He makes a face. “I… I don’t know. They might think we’re crazy.”

“Crazy, but it’s true.” She shrugs. “I really do wonder how we’re going to explain this.”

“I hope my mom contacted Chief Hopper. I know they were good friends growing up, I’m sure he believes her.”

“I hope it’s him, I don’t really like some of the people he works with.”

Will tilts his head, confused. “You don’t like cops?”

“No, I don’t certain cops here. I don’t trust them as far as I can throw them.”

“How come?”

“Well–” She cuts herself off and stops, eyes trailing to something inside one of the shops. She takes a second to make sure she’s seeing that right before pointing and saying, “November 6th.”

Will perks up at that. “That’s the day when we had our D&D campaign. The night we disappeared.”

“Yeah.” Steph looks around her hand following up to another object, a clock. “Nine Twenty-Three. That’s probably around the time we disappeared too.”

“But why is everything stuck this way?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, didn’t this place exist beforehand?” Will asked, head spinning. “How come everything is stuck on the night we disappeared?”

She purses her lips. “It… exist because of us? Or does time run differently here?”

“This is making my head hurt.”

She chuckles. “You and me both, kid.”

They continued their walk, popping into a few shops when they saw something useful, like another set of matches or even a sleeping bag they could share. They eventually ended up at a hunting store and scavenged there. Steph started grabbing a couple boxes of shotgun shells and ones that could fit inside Mr. Harrington’s pistol. It felt strange to have something like this in her possession, especially given the history of it. A very… bittersweet history of it.

Stupid, Harring– The small box tv on the counter startled her when it made a noise. When her gaze locks onto it, she realizes it’s not even on. She sighs, shaking her head. Now I’m imagining shit? This is getting fucking ridiculous.

She starts making room inside her bag for the ammunition when–

|| –Those Poor Children. ||

Stephanie nearly drops everything and grips the gun and starts frantically searching for the voice. What in the fucking–

|| Jesus, I know. I can only imagine what their families are going through. ||

|| It’s such a shame– ||

“What the…?”

“Did you hear that too?” Will asked, eyes full of hope as she looked between him and empty space behind the counter.

“Huh? Um… Y-Yeah. I-I did.” She swallows and then realizes something. “Wait… is that what you– Is that what you were talking about?”

“Yeah!” He shakes his head eagerly. “I told you, I swear I could hear my mom and Jonathan talking that night. I told you I wasn’t crazy.”

Stephanie takes a deep breath, still in a bit of disbelief I mean– This changes everything she’s thought about this place. “If we can hear somebody, then…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence. It was so shocking.

“Maybe we can talk to them. I know for a fact my mom heard me when I called the phone. She even responded when I talked back.”

“So it’s totally possible.” She goes silent to think, an idea coming to mind in a matter of seconds. She grins. “Follow me.”

Will of course does, a little intrigued by the fact that they found themselves climbing to the top of an old bell tower that overlooks most of Hawkins. “What is this place?”

“Somewhere I probably shouldn’t have been hanging out at when I was young.” Steph admits. “Don’t worry, the tower hasn’t been used in decades ‘cause the bell’s broken. Alright.” She smacks her hands together. “We have to figure out a way to get someone’s attention. Whether it’s your family, my family, friends, or hell, even some random stranger. We just need to get someone’s attention.”

“But how? I’m not even sure how any of this works.” Will asked, truthfully. He’s still not even really sure how he was able to contact his mom that night.

She hums, scratching her head. “Where’s your house at?” He gets close to the edge, looks around and points to it in the distance. She nods and starts doing the same as she speaks, “Alright, well there’s mine, Lucas’, and Mike’s. So we got options. We just need to figure out how you were able to speak to your mom that night. If we can figure that out, maybe we can do it again.”

“All I really did was just dial my house’s number and she picked up.”

“Okay. Maybe it’s just that simple after all.”

“Well… I know whatever happened that night, it fired the house’s phone. We’re going to need a new phone.”

“We can get one. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll move on to another house. Hopefully, one of our friends will pick up.”

And they have to. This is our only plan right now. She waves for him to go first. “Careful going down, it’s more tricky than going up.”

“Okay.” He says, doing what he was told.

She starts to follow closely behind when another voice appears.

|| I am such an idiot. ||

She froze, her heart sinking again. She looks back at one of the corners of the tower, and an aching feeling in her gut.

“Steve?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Steve had a cigarette in one hand, and his other tangled up his own locks; One leg was dangling off the tower, while the rest of his body laid against the arch of the opening. Today was stupidly sunny, barely any clouds and no smell of precipitation in the air for a chance of rain – the aesthetic was the complete opposite of his mood right now.

He took a puff of nicotine and blew it out like a long, heavy sigh. The shit from last night keeps replaying in his head, provoking him to do or say something he’s probably not supposed to (or is supposed to, his subconscious yells at him) – He still doesn’t understand why he suddenly ended up here out of place. He could have gone to skull rock, or even the quarry, or maybe even just running around the mall hoping no one realizes he’s a teenager and asks why he’s not in school.

He groans, closing his eyes, listening to the traffic below and people bickering, praying nobody looks up and finds him here. Again, why did I pick this place?

“I am such an idiot.” He mutters, then the insecurities he had slowly started to fade away when he felt a presence nearby. Worried that maybe a cop finally found him, he changes his sadden look for something cooler before opening his eyes and looking.

But strangely enough, no one was even there.

“Huh.” Steve blinks, swearing that he could feel someone was watching him. Maybe though? I mean, this was an old church that may or may not be haunted.

He shakes his head. “Fuck this.” He puts his bud out on the ground and stands up to leave.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Hey, Where’s Steve? I didn’t see his car in the parking lot.” Nancy asks, butting into Carol and Tommy’s conversation. She honestly wanted to see him to give him another apology, she still felt bad for prying so much about something she probably shouldn’t have seen. And I want to see if he’s in a good mental state today.

She watches the couple spare a look and gets worried, “What?”

“You haven’t seen him yet?” Carol said, as she shakes her head. “That’s weird.”

“Steve never skips school.” Tommy adds.

“What did you guys argue about last night?”

“Us?” Nancy said, pointing to herself. “You think he’s not here because we fought?”

“It’s a possibility. He finally has a girlfriend who’s charm finally made the King skip class.” Carol said, arms cross. “I’d say that’s an achievement.”

She scoffs. “First of all, It was just a disagreement, nothing more. A second, there’s no way that’s the reason he’s not here.”

“Maybe you hit one of his insecurities you were yelling about last night.”

Nancy holds her tongue and ends up just leaving in a huff. Every time she thinks she’s finally on their level, she’s pushed back down. She sighs and enters her first class of the day. Her gaze follows over to where her friend would be at, but atlas, her desk was empty.

She reaches out and taps the girl in front of her shoulder. “Hey, Ally. Where’s Barb?”

The girl raised an eyebrow. “Um, shouldn’t you know?”

Nancy’s stomach dropped. “You haven’t seen her anywhere... at all?”

Ally shakes her head just as the bell rings and everyone’s ordered to sit down, leaving the Wheeler to wonder if she stayed home too because of their bickering.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“There she is. Emerald City.” Powell announced as they pulled up to the one and only laboratory in Hawkins. They were going off really their only lead at this point, and hoping it plays out.

“I heard they make space weapons in there.” Callahan replies, getting a look.

“Space weapons?”

“Yeah. You know, like, Reagan’s Star Wars. I guess we’re gonna blow the Ruskies to smithereens.”

“Hey, can I help you?” The guard asked once the police car rolled to a stop just in front of the gate.

“Uh, yeah. We’re here for a tour.” Hopper lied.

“Oh, we don’t give tours.”

“Okay... A quick look around.”

“You have to get clearance for that. You can contact, uh... Rick Schaeffer at the Department of Energy.”

“Maybe you seen it on TV.” Hopper pushes, not backing down from this. “We got two local kids missing. We have reason to believe they might have snuck in here.”

“Like I said, you have to speak to Mr. Schaeffer.”

Hopper exhaled through his nose, and turned the car and placed his hat on the dashboard; His partners beside him grew quiet, and let him have at it. “What’s your name?”

“Patrick.”

“Patrick, I got a panicked mayor, and I got reporters breathing down my neck and I got two very upset mothers.” He said, his face growing softer, more wounded like. “Now, I know the kid’s not in there, but I gotta check off this box. Patrick, would you do me a favor? Would you speak to your boss and see what you can swing for us? I’d really appreciate it. I’m talking ten minutes, tops.”

Just ten minutes to see if they were in there. That’s all that the police chief needs…

And wants.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Steve heads inside the shop nearby, his stomach growling for food. It completely slipped his mind this morning – or afternoon now – he’s completely lost track of time.

Now what kind of junk sounds appetizing today? He starts wandering around, not at all familiar with this layout or the shop for that matter (Why didn’t he just go to the sandwich shop next door again?). As he slips through one of the aisles, he notices the person in front of him struggling to reach for something off the high shelf.

Deciding to be a nice boy, he reaches up and grabs it down for her. “Here you go, Ma’am.”

“Oh, thank you.” She said, surprised and grateful. “How kind of you.”

“Early Christmas shopping?”

“Oh, I wish. No, I just need a new phone in case my son calls the house.”

He nods. “Your son lives far then?”

“Um, no, h-he’s missing.”

Oh?

Oh…

Oh!

Steve’s eyes widened at the realization. “Oh, oh my god, I’m so sorry. You’re that kid’s mother.”

“I am.” Joyce says, shifting her weight around.

“Am… so sorry, I-I didn’t know, I–”

“Like you said, you didn’t know.” She puts the phone into the shopping cart. “It’s okay.”

“Okay, um…” This was awkward, right? Steve shifted on his feet too, not really sure how to wrap this up. “Uh, do you have… uh… heard any updates?”

Joyce shakes her head, sadly. “Not yet. I know the Police Chief has put many of his guys and volunteers to work. But I think at this point they covered all of Hawkins.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I just, uh–” He trails off, struggling to make a sentence. “Sorry, I was just being nosy. I don’t really hear much news, I…” He swallows. “I went to school with the Henderson girl, so...”

Is he making any sense? Hopefully she’s understanding what he means– Fuck, his heart’s racing so fast.

“Oh, yeah?” Joyce said, looking bittersweet – Looking like she was a mother staring at her hurt child (How come his own mother never looked at him like that?). “Must be hard knowing someone you knew is missing.”

Damn, right on the money. “Yeah.” He says, his throat feeling tight.

She hums, and then gives him a stern expression. “Shouldn’t you be in school though?”

Annnnddddd… Fuck.

Nice Going, Harrington. He scolded himself as he racked his brain for a believable lie. “Oh, uh, I-I graduated already. I was a grade ahead.”

“Oh.” She says, apologetically. “My mistake.”

“No worries, seriously. It happens all the time.” At least he didn’t say something stupid, and needs to get out of this conversation before he does but… damn his little heart sometimes. “Uh–” He gestures to her cart full of different items. “Do you want me to pay for some of that? For bothering you? Or uh, I… I know you’re probably–”

“Oh, no!” She shakes her head. “No. Thanks, but I can get it. Money’s a little tight, I’ll admit, but there’s nothing I can do about it. You know?”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I appreciate the offer.” Joyce smiles, and subconsciously pats the young man on his shoulder. “You’re very sweet. Take care.”

“You too.” He says, seeing this as he exits and walks past her.

Joyce watches as he turns to another aisle, growing a bit sad by the interaction.

Alright, do I have everything? She has a new phone, some groceries– things she knows Will would like–

The display of string lights flickered for a second.

Confused, thinking most likely it was probably a short circuit, she doesn’t understand why she ended up muttering her youngest name, “Will.”

Coincidentally, the light flickers shortly afterwards. “Will!” She says, again, hope blooming in her chest. Then, all the lights on the display shined for a few seconds.

God, call her crazy, but maybe this was a sign that her son is still close by.

Before anyone could blink, the checkout counter was filled up with so many boxes of Christmas lights, some just the basic color, and some of the tri-colors. She can only imagine how much this is going to cost her, but who cares! If this is strangely how she can talk to her son, then this is what she shall do.

Her Boss, who was the clerk for the day, looks at her worriedly. “Joyce–”

“Just ring me up, Donald.” Is all she said, patiently waiting until he was all finished. Without sparing another word, she gathers all the bags into her hands and races to her car.

Donald sighs while watching her leave. “That poor woman.” He says, just as Steve comes up to the counter with his snacks and drinks. He raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be minding your own business?” Steve said, becoming bitter again.

“Mmm, hmm.” He scans everything and a price pops up on his screen. “That’ll be Five-Fifty.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

“Found a phone.” Will said, almost immediately as they entered. It shouldn’t be a shock since this is the place his mother works at.

“That should work.” Steph said, smiling. “Let’s get a move on.”

Will gets up on his tippy toes to grab it, slowly pulling it off the shelf when something presses his hand. Startled, he falls back and the older girl grabs the box before it falls.

“What happened?” She asked, worriedly.

“S-Something touched me.” He says, taking a step back.

“What?” She hands him the box and peeks over the shelf herself (She’s not exactly tall either). There was nothing odd out of the ordinary, just the normal dust and native plants that grew in this world. She frowns. “I don’t really see anything.”

Suddenly the display of lights flickered. Out of instinct her hand reaches for the pistol at her side. Then her heart sinks at the next thing.

|| Uh, do you want me to pay for some of that? I know you’re probably– ||

“Steve?” Stephanie says, surprised.

So she wasn’t crazy after all. She did hear him.

Will looked up at her, stunned too. “Steve Harrington?” He asked, but before she could speak another voice could be heard.

|| –I can get it. Money’s a little tight, I’ll admit, but there’s nothing I can do about it. You know? ||

|| You sure? ||

|| Yes. I appreciate the offer. You’re very sweet. Take care. ||

“Mrs. Byers?/Mom?!” They both erupted, then went quiet to see if they could hear anything else.

Nothing.

“Shit.” The oldest said, and now gnawing on her lip again, nervously (And completely forgetting about Steve for the time being). “That might have been our chance.” She hears the boy drop the phone somewhere next to her. “Will?”

The boy seemed fascinated with an idea swirling around in his head. Stephanie finds herself just watching, waiting to see what he had in mind. Will reaches up and lets his fingers brush the display of some string lights, the lights getting a little bit hazy – It was almost like his touch was giving them electricity.

|| Will. ||

Joyce’s voice broke through very faintly, but they both heard it and nearly cried.

“Touch the light again.” Steph said, urgently. Will does what he’s told and they both stay quiet again.

|| Will! ||

“She hears us.” He says, happily.

“Holy shit…” She chuckles. “I have an idea. Touch all the lights.”

Frantically, they rush to touch all the lights they saw on display, not even questioning how this was even possible, they just hoped Joyce got the message. Once the hue died down they both held their breaths, and crossed their fingers. And then…

|| Just ring me up, Donald. ||

Stephanie threw her hands up. “Yes!” She says, with Will laughing beside her. “Thank you, Ms. Byers.”

“My mom’s the best.” He said, with a warm look.

“Hell, yeah she is. And forget the phone–” She locks eyes with him, determined. “I think we figured out a better way to communicate.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“And you think these missing kids may have crawled through there?”

Hopper spares the man a glance before looking back at the drain. Somehow, he convinced the security guard to let him and his guys in, but so far their theories are turning out pretty sour. “Well, that was the idea.”

Their “Tour Guide”, I guess you can call him that, made a fact that was all smug and prideful. “Yeah, I just don’t see how that’d be possible. We’ve got over 100 cameras. Every square inch covered, plus all my guys. No one breaks in here. Certainly not some kids.”

Hopper perked up at the news, eyes trailing to a few cameras in view. Now it was his turn to be the smug one as he asked, “Those cameras, you keep the tapes?”

Well… I don’t think the guide was expecting that reaction.

Now, the three of them were following the man inside, the hallways swarmed with men in lab coats, and a security team blocking a room that was marked “hazardous”.

The police Chief found this a bit suspicious and asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, what do you guys do in here?”

The guide chuckles. “You’re asking the wrong guy.”

“Staying one step ahead of the Russians?”

“I expect. Something like that.”

“Who’s in charge here?”

“That’d be Dr. Brenner.”

“And he builds the space lasers?” Callahan asked, eagerly.

“Space lasers?”

“Ignore him.” Hopper replies, sighing. They eventually entered the surveillance room, the three of them watching the screen closely. “This is the night of the 6th and 7th we’re seeing here?”

“That’s correct.”

Hopper narrows his eyes, waiting to see if he sees anything unusual. However, to his surprise, the tape only lasted less than a minute. “Is that it?” He asked, in disbelief.

“Like I said, we would have seen them.”

And then the cops were practically shoved out of there, and the guide gives them their condolences for the tired search (Yeah, what an asshole, right?).

“The night of the 7th, we had a search party out for Will and Stephanie. You remember anything about that night?” Hopper asked, seeing if he wasn’t the only suspicious one.

“Mmm, not much to remember. Called it off.” Callahan replies, thinking.

“‘Cause of the storm.” Powell adds.

“Yeah, a lot of rain that night.” Hopper says, arriving at their car. “You see any rain on that tape?”

“What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know.” He spares a look at the building, a sinking feeling in his gut. “But they’re lying.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, the boys were outside shifting through the playground for some rocks. Mike picks one up and shows it off. “How about this one?”

Dustin looks and shakes his head. “Too big for the sling.” He says, getting on his knees to do some digging. “So, do you think Eleven was born with her powers, like the X-Men, or do you think she acquired them, like... like Green Lantern?

“She’s not a superhero. She’s a weirdo.” Lucas replies, rolling his eyes.

“Why does that matter?” Mike snaps, offended. “The X-Men are weirdos.”

“If you love her so much, why don’t you marry her?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Mike, seriously?”

“What?”

“You look at her all, like…” Lucas makes a giggly face, and softens his body language, followed by a higher pitched voice, “‘Hi, El! El! El! El! I love you so much! Would you marry me’?”

“Shut up, Lucas.”

“Yeah, shut up, Lucas.” Their bully, Troy, announced as he stomped towards the group. “What are you losers doing back here?”

“Probably looking for their missing friends.” James said, smirking.

“That’s not funny. It’s serious. They’re in danger.” Dustin hisses, annoyed.

“I hate to break it to you, Toothless, but they’re not in danger.” Troy bites back. “They’re dead. That’s what my dad says. He said that Byers was probably killed by some other queer. And maybe your sister’s been killed by some crazy stalker who is into weirdos like her.”

The two bullies laugh as Dustin looks like he’s about to strangle someone. No one says anything about Will like that. And nobody especially says something like that about his big sister.

Mike sees this, and puts his arm in front of his friend to soothe him. “Come on. Just ignore them.” He says, and starts to leave, only to be tripped – and face planted into the ground.

“Watch where you’re going, Frogface.” Troy spats, but he instantly gets a taste of his own medicine.

To everyone’s surprise, Dustin was the one to deliver the karma, which was forcibly shoving him to the ground.

Everyone stared, and before someone could speak he shoved James too and scrambled to pick up Mike.

“Lucas! Let’s go!” Dustin yells, and silently tells Mike to go. As they were leaving, he flips the bullies the bird and snaps, “You shitheads need to keep Will and Phanie’s name out of your mouths! Got it?!”

And then they broke off into a Usain Bolt type sprint.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

They finally ended up back on Mirkwood, guns loaded, backpacks full, and hope in their chest. If this works, if Joyce does this right, then maybe they can finally communicate to the other side. All they needed to do was tell her where they are, and maybe they could figure out a way to get back.

It sounded easy, and they just hoped it was.

The two of them were silent for most of the walk, and when they got to this specific road, the boy grabbed her hand, shaking. She says nothing, ‘cause nothing needs to be said about it. If that’s what made him feel safe then so be it.

“Do you think it’s negative emotions?” Will eventually said, breaking the ice.

Stephanie tilts her head, confused. “Hmm?”

“Do you think that’s how we can hear some people? Through negative emotions?” He looks up at her. “Like my mom, she must be worried about me, maybe that’s why we can hear her?”

Her eyebrows shoot up, shocked. It’s definitely a plausible theory (But would that apply to Steve as well? And if so, why is he so worried?). “Maybe.”

“But would that go with us too?” He adds, the wheels in his head really were turning today. “I mean, is that how the beast picks their victims? Because they’re in a bad mental state?”

Well, now that makes sense if you put it that way. “It’s possible.” She said, nodding. Yeah, that’s completely possible.

It explains a lot of things. More or so she wanted to admit. She knows these last two years were… interesting to say the least. Definitely could qualify as a ‘Bad Mental State’. And… she also has felt a bit stressed about school and talks about her future. But if she knew herself was in a bad state, then that means–

“Then… are you okay?” Steph asked, realizing something. The boy froze, like actually froze when she said that. It was a trippy sight to see. “Will?”

“What?”

“Are you okay?” She tries again, a bit gentler this time. “Mentally?” Nothing. “Will–

“I… I’m fine.”

And then he lets go of her hand and starts walking a bit quicker– not even realizing he was doing so. She stops, concern on her face. She wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction from a simple yes or no question. She makes a note for herself that when they do get out of here she’s going to have a talk with him (Or at least tell Joyce about her concerns).

She sighs. Always got to be the therapist, Henderson.

She takes a step to move but stops, her eyes trailing off the road to her right, right into the void of the trees. It was weird. She felt like someone was standing right there – The same kind of presence back at the clock tower.

“Huh.” She turns her attention back in front of her, then proceeds to freak out a bit when she notices how far Will was. She cusses and breaks into a sprint to catch up quickly.

Completely unaware of who that presence really was.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Steve steps over the barricades, his feet sinking into the leaves. Curiosity got the best of him you could say, or maybe the conversation last night really was getting under his skin (Like he’ll ever admit that), but he found himself here. Standing at a… crime scene, I guess.

Her car went off road with herself and the Byers boy in it. Not long afterwards, they ditched it.

His brown orbs trailed from the tree the vehicle hit and down the long road. He also knows, from what he’s heard, they both ran back to the boy’s house and then the trail went cold after that. But that’s the part that tickled his brain a bit.

Why run all the way back home, a place you’re probably the safest at, and then leave it? It didn’t make sense in his book. Hell, it shouldn’t make sense in anybody’s book. What was the urge for them to run away from home and into the thick woods that surrounds Hawkins?

He rubbed his chin and started thinking like he was going to solve this or whatever. Like…

He then scoffs at himself.

What the fuck am I even doing? What is he doing? Why did he drive himself here? It’s not like he should care anymore. I mean, he shouldn’t care anymore. His parents would have his head if they knew–

Then there it is again.

That strange feeling that someone’s watching him.

He turns around, half expecting a cop to be there to scold him, the other half expecting nothing and– Oh! What do you know? It was nothing.

But even if it was nothing, he swears someone is standing there, watching his every move. Almost like this presence was here to judge him and see what other stupid things he can do today.

It was definitely giving him the heebie-jeebies.

He frowns, and looks away. “What the fuck…?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It took her an hour, but Joyce got all the lights up. She strung them all through the house, up along the wall and hanging gently off the ceiling. She hopes that she’s not losing her mind – She knows how silly this looks; Putting up Christmas lights in November (I mean, the holiday’s not that far off but still). She was expecting some reaction to happen, some or maybe all of them would immediately start blinking; Instead, her doorbell rings and she’s met with Karen Wheeler.

Not wanting to be rude, Joyce invited her and her youngest in. Karen pops in a casserole she made into the oven, sitting next to the worried mother and tries to see what state she was in.

Joyce chuckles nervously when her guest notices the festive decoration. “Will always loved Christmas, you know. So I thought if I... I put the lights up... I don’t know, he... I’d feel like he was home somehow.” She covers part of her face with her hand. “I-It’s silly, I-I know…”

Karen shakes her head. “No. No, it’s not silly.” She takes the other woman’s hand in hers, giving her a gentle squeeze. “How is Jonathan holding up?”

Joyce takes a deep breath. “You know, he’s good at taking care of himself. He always has been, you know? I…” She scoffs. “I mean, he thinks I’m losing my mind, but…”

“Joyce.” Karen says, softly. “I want you to know something. If you need anything, anything at all... Ted and I are here for you.”

This sentimental moment caused them both to become oblivious to the lights flickering on in the hallway, a walkway pointing towards Will’s room. The only one who didn’t miss it was Holly, who was now sliding off her chair to follow.

“Thank you.” Joyce said, sincerely.

Karen smiles. “Okay.”

The two women continued to talk, Joyce even bringing up Mike’s feelings about the whole thing – and even wondered if Claudia and Dustin were okay too. Meanwhile, little Holly Wheeler watched the lights flickered on and off, guiding her to the bedroom. Her eyes watched in awe as the many, many lamps that were lingered around Will’s room turned off and on one-by-one in a symphony-like way.

She giggles and claps, excited to watch this “show”. Then…

They all stopped and the nightmare began.

Her happiness starts to pool away as she hears a scary sound. She then turns white as a ghost when she notices one of the walls was moving and stretching out towards her.

Who knows what would have happened if Joyce hadn’t come in and grabbed Holly, handing her back to her mother.

“She shouldn’t be here.” Joyce said, scared in both tone and facial expression.

Karen didn’t notice the seriousness of her look as she apologizes, “Oh, I’m sorry. She’s quite the explorer these days.”

“Wait, did you see something?” The worried Byers brushes her off, and the little girl nods quickly. “What did... what did you see? Tell me. What did you see?”

“Joyce!” The blonde scolds, but she’s already being shooed away.

“Karen, thank you for the casserole, but I need you to leave.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Nancy tapped her foot repeatedly, impatiently waiting for the person to pick up the phone. “Come on, come on, come on…” She mumbled, gripping the payphone tight. “Come on–”

[ ‘Hello?’ ]

Oh, thank god. “Hi!” She says, eagerly. “Hi, uh, Ms. Holland, it’s Nancy.”

[ ‘Oh, Nancy, how are you?’ ]

“Good. I’m good. Um, I was just wondering, uh, is Barb there?”

[ ‘Mmm... No, she hasn’t come home yet.’ ]

“But she did come home, right? After the vigil?”

[ ‘No, she said she was staying with you last night.’ ]

Shit. Nancy mentally scolds herself. “Right, yes. She did, sorry. I meant, did she come home this morning? I think she left some textbooks and she was gonna go pick them up.”

[ ‘Oh, um, no, I haven’t seen her.’ ]

“Do– do you know what? I just remembered... she’s at the library.”

[ ‘Nancy, will you please have her call me as soon as you find her?’ ]

“Yeah.” She shakes her head, frowning at how worried Barb’s mother was sounding. “Yeah, I will. Sorry to bother you.”

She hangs up the phone, frustrated. This wasn’t like Barb at all. In the past when they’ve had some disagreements, she’s never once disappeared like this. The only thing Barb’s ever done that was “extreme” was she did the silent treatment for most of the school day.

This is so weird. This whole day’s been weird. She sighs and digs out some more change for the machine, and dials another number she knows by heart. The whole time as it rang she was nipping at the tip of her thumb. To her surprise, a voice she’s never heard before answered the phone.

[ ‘Hello?’ ]

The voice was a bit husky, but sweet with a pinch of sass.

Nancy’s confused, and twirls the phone cord around her finger. “Oh, I’m sorry, who’s this?” She asked, wondering if she dialed the number wrong. “Is this the–”

[ ‘This is Jessica. How can I help you?’ ]

Jessica?

Jessica? Who’s…

Her eyes widened.

Oh.

Now she recognizes the name.

It was Steve’s mother – The woman she hasn’t met yet – The woman she’s “meeting” for the first time over the phone.

She swallows, nervously. “Oh, I-I’m… sorry. I was trying to get a hold of Steve.” She replies, feeling a bit awkward (and nervous?).

[ ‘Steven? And who are you to him?’ ]

Well she sounds lovely. She can hear the snobbishness in her tone, almost offended that someone was calling for her son. That’s a little weird.

“Um, I’m his girlfriend.” Nancy replies, trying to sound confident. “I was just wondering if he’s home? I haven’t seen him at school day and I’m a little worried.”

Then came the very long, very uncomfortable pause. For a second there she thought the mom hung up, it was so quiet.

[ ‘Girlfriend? That’s new. ]

“Did Steve not tell you about us?” Nancy asked, a bit hurt and a bit confused. He seemed so proud to show the whole school that they were dating, how come he never told his mother?

[ ‘What’s your name?’ ]

Skipping my question. I love it. “Um, Nancy. Nancy Wheeler, Ma’am.”

[ ‘Wheeler, you said?’ ]

“Um, yes.” Now she was puzzled even more. Was this a bad thing–

[ ‘That’s wonderful!’ ]

Nancy blinks. “It… is?”

[ ‘My son’s dating a Wheeler! I almost can’t believe it.’ ]

And the woman was laughing with joy(?), which Nancy puts to the side. She just needs to get an answer to her own simple question. “That’s… wonderful, um… is Steve there?”

[ ‘No, he’s not. *Sigh* I swear if that boy’s skipping school, we’re going to have a problem.’ ]

And I think I just made everything worse. She straightens herself up, ready to end this. “Okay, Well… thanks, Mrs. Harrington, I’ll see if he’s maybe hiding out somewhere in the school.”

[ ‘Okay. Well, you have a good rest of your day, sweetheart.’ ]

Sweetheart? Nancy shakes her head again. “Thanks. You too.” She hangs up the phone. Well that was even weirder than the last one.

She crosses her arms, turning to head inside only her eyes to beeline to Carol and Tommy following someone closely – Tommy looking pissed off, especially.

“What the heck?” She says, and hurries towards them.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hopper and his partner entered the library with an idea – an idea hanging on a very thin thread that is. So, he puts on his best smile and takes off his hat, strolling up to the woman at the desk. “Hey, Marissa. How you doin’?”

The librarian pursed her lips. “You have a lot of nerve showing up here.”

He blinks. “What?”

“You could have at least called, said, ‘Marissa! Hey, it’s not gonna work out. Sorry I wasted your time. I’m a dіck’.”

Oh, now he remembers. “Yep.” He said, agreeing immediately. “I’m sorry. Uh... Maybe we could go out again next week?” She, and even Powell, made a face at him that gave him his answer. He smacks his lips and looks around. “Newspapers? You guys got newspapers around here?”

Marissa nods and shows them where they all are. “We have the New York Times, the Post, all the big ones. Organized by year and topic. You can find the corresponding microfiche in the reading room.”

“Okay, we’re looking for anything on the Hawkins National Laboratory.”

“Well, shouldn’t you be looking for that missing kid?”

“Yeah. We are.” Hopper pushes, and adds, “So, why don’t you start with the Times, and we’ll check out the Post.”

She scoffs in disbelief and walks off, Powell stepping up with a look on his face. “The librarian?” He said, getting a shrug.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Nancy sped up when she saw who they were stalking in the parking lot. Why would two people like Tommy and Carol go after a kid like Jonathan Byers? Nothing that went through her mind would give her that answer. When she got closer is when it got more intense.

Tommy was practically manhandling Jonathan, yelling and trying to take his bag away from him. The eldest Wheeler sped up even more, full on running now.

She manages to step between the two of them, arms out in defense. “Hey! What’s going on?”

“This creep was spying on us last night!” Tommy said, pointing furiously. “Nicole says he was taking pictures of us by the pool.”

“I was looking for my brother.” Jonathan replies, holding his bag close.

“Bullshit. Now let me see.”

“Back off!”

Nancy steps in between them again. “Tommy, stop!” She yells, making him scoff.

“You’re defending this creep, Wheeler?” Carol asked, in disgust.

“First of all, you really going to believe what Nicole said? The girl’s like the boy who cried wolf.”

“Nancy–”

“Lastly, so what if he has photos of us at the pool? It wasn’t like we’re naked.”

“Naked or not, he still took pictures of us!” Tommy snaps, taking a step closer as she takes a step back.

“Pictures or not, he was looking for his brother–”

“How do you know, huh? How?”

“Because he’s been hanging out missing poster signs of him and missing school because he’s the big brother.” Nancy looks over her shoulder, locking eyes with Jonathan. “Go.” He hesitates. “Go, man!”

Not wasting another opportunity, he hustles off towards his car. Tommy tries to lunge towards him, but Nancy isn’t letting up.

“What the fuck, Nancy?!” Tommy shouted, and she chose to ignore him by walking away once she knew Jonathan wasn’t around. “Nancy!”

“Nancy, get back here!” Carol yelled.

“Nancy, you such a fucking princess! Wait until your boyfriend hears about this!”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Dude, I can’t believe you did that!” Lucas said, as they bike away from the school. “You know Troy and James are not going to let that slide.”

“I don’t care!” Dustin says, bitterly (and if he could cross his arms right now he would). “I don’t like when people bad mouth my friends, bad mouth my sister! I mean, for Christ’s sake, she was giving Will a ride home. What’s so bad about that?”

He doesn’t care if James’s waiting tomorrow to give him a wedgie, or Troy’s fist plummeting into his face, he doesn’t care. Both Will and Phanie had their fair share of bullying themselves, or whispers of derogatory names and speeches – All because Will was the “quiet kid” and wears “colorful” clothing; All because his sister wasn’t a “girly-girl” and a total nerd. He’s heard that all throughout his life, and sometimes he said something, sometimes he stays silent when told too – He probably should have done that today.

But those… fucking bullies just had to poke him when he was the most stress. Stressed out with each day that none of them had come home.

Jeez, he’s either going to get scolded or praised by his mother if she finds out about that interaction.

“And don’t even try to convince me to beg them for forgiveness. They don’t deserve it and I’m standing my ground.” Dustin adds, shutting his friend up. As they rode closer and closer to their houses, he frowned, worriedly.

I just hope El knows what she’s talking about. He just wants to find them both soon (Safe and sound would be a plus).

The boys continued to ride until they arrived at the power lines behind the Wheelers’ house. Mike shouted and told the girl to hope on, warning all of them they only had a few hours to pull this off.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Joyce was standing in her kitchen with a cigarette when Chester started barking. She looks up to see the lights in the living room start flickering, and hurries in there. As soon as she entered they died down. Then, slowly the light directly above her activated, and then made a pathway to the other side of the room. Her fingers laced around them, and followed, ending up being directed at a bundle of them lying on the floor.

She rushes to take them in her hands, sitting down and taking a deep breath. It was now or never to find out if she was really losing her mind or not. She closes her eyes, and whispers,

“Will... are you here?”

There was a brief pause followed by the ball lighting up and fading. She chuckles in excitement, completely over the moon with fresh tears in her eyes.

“Okay, good, good, good, good. Are you…” How should she do this? “Um, blink once for yes, twice for no. C-Can y-you do that for me, sweetie? Can you do–” The ball lights up again just once as she feels a tear run down her cheek and hugs the object.

She can feel it in her bones, in her heart now. She knows this is her baby boy. She knows that her son is still with her.

Joyce smiles and sniffles. “Oh, good boy. Good boy. Okay, Will, um–” Another deep breath. “Is… Is Stephanie with you too?”

One blink. The girl who was kind enough to pick up her son is still with him despite all this time. She can finally put some of that guilt away now.

“That’s wonderful news.” She said, her expression growing bigger. However, this was going to be the hardest question yet to ask. “Baby, I need to know…” She swallows. “Are you guys alive?”

One blink and her heart skips a beat. She thanks any God who’s listening for this.

Her lip quivers as she follows up with, “Are you guys safe?”

Two blinks.

Her son and Stephanie were not okay.

Now, Joyce was shaking like a leaf as she clenched the lights tighter, her mind running a mile a minute on what she can do. What could she say that wouldn’t revert to playing twenty questions four times over?

“I need to know where to find you two, honey. Where... where are you? Can you... can you tell me where you are? Can you…” She chokes, her cheeks completely stained. “Please, baby. I need to find you. Tell me what to do. Please just... Will…”

She didn’t know how long she sat there and cried, wondering what she could do for her baby, for Steph; But at some point a light bulb idea appeared. She suddenly found herself stringing some lights on the wall over her couch, a row of three, before popping open a can of black paint and began brushing letters on.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

“How do we get my mom’s attention when we can’t see what she’s done?” Will asked after hours of walking back to his home, he was disappointed to find that his house still looks the same. I guess their theory about earlier was right–

This world was stuck on the day he and Steph got kidnapped by the beast.

The oldest walked around a bit, thinking. Unfortunately, despite all the lights Joyce bought, they can’t see any of them. “Did she put it in your room, maybe?” Stephanie thought, and wandered inside.

Nothing. Of course. The only thing she saw that was possibly different was some scratch marks on the wall, ones that would be too high for a dog to do.

She swallows and leaves, meeting the boy in the hallway. “Did you have scratches on your wall before?” Will gives her a weird look and shakes his head. She hums. “We got to find those lights quickly. I think that monster’s been lurking around here.”

They found themselves back in the living room, and started moving their arms around, squinting too to see if something would appear. All hope was starting to seem lost until her hand hits an object above, a glowing hue appears for a split second.

“Whoa…” Will said, in awe, and suddenly, they both swore they heard a dog barking. “Chester?”

Steph took this as a sign to keep going, hitting the same spot again before gently moving her hand along the imaginary line. She trails to the little cabinet against the wall, feeling around until she hits something that makes light.

Come on, Ms. Byers. Please tell me you’re home. The two of them waited anxiously, waiting for the woman to speak, waiting for–

|| Will... are you here? ||

Joyce’s voice broke through, breaking them.

“Mom.” Will breaths, coming down to sit on his knees. “What do I–”

“Start feeling around. Just like I did.” Steph said, coming to sit next to him. He nods again, keeping calm and feels around – His fingers touching something that made the hue appear again. “Perfect. Just like that.”

|| Okay, good, good, good, good. ||

“See?” Steph says, happily. “It’s working.”

“Mom.” Will says again, smiling. Now, they just have to stay silent and listen.

|| Are you… Um, blink once for yes, twice for no. C-Can y-you do that for me, sweetie? Can you do– ||

Of course they can. So Will reaches out and touches it once.

|| Oh, good boy. Good boy. Okay, Will, um– Is… Is Stephanie with you too? ||

One touch. Will is eternally grateful that he’s not alone in this scary place.

|| That’s wonderful news – Baby, I need to know… ||

There’s a pause, and they hold their breaths.

|| Are you guys alive? ||

Their hearts clenched at how painful she sounded.

His poor mother. I can only imagine what she must feel like. Steph thought, and touched his shoulder, trying to give him some comfort.

He touches the air with a shaky hand, trying not to beat himself up over how much his mother was suffering.

|| Are you guys safe? ||

They frown, and he touches the air twice.

I’m sorry, Mom. Will says, trying not to picture the state she was in after that answer.

|| I need to know where to find you two, honey. Where... where are you? Can you... can you tell me where you are? Can you… Please, baby. I need to find you. Tell me what to do. Please just... Will… ||

“Mom?” He croaked, after she went silent. “Mom?”

“Ms. Byers?” She said, worriedly.

“Mom, please… where did you–”

Then they heard the couch scrap across the floor, hitting the wall, followed by the sounds of hammering.

“What is she doing now?” He asks, both of them standing and hearing the string lights she must have in her hands clink together, and move along the wall. “Why is she hanging up more lights?”

Although he was puzzled, Stephanie was not. She walks over to the couch, getting onto the cushions and feeling around, the hues returning when she hits a certain spot. She laughs blissfully.

“Oh, your mom’s a genius.” Steph said, with a huge smile on her face.

Will gives her a look. “I don’t get it.”

“Watch closely. See–” She touches a line of lights near the ceiling. “Eight.” Then the middle. “Nine.” Then the bottom. “Nine. It makes twenty-six. Your mom’s a freaking genius.”

“Still not getting it.”

“Don’t you see? She didn’t just hang up more lights–” Her smile grows, and soon will his. “It’s an alphabet wall.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Nancy wasn’t sure what she was going to do. First Steve doesn’t come into school, and now no one knows where Barb is. She decides to kill two birds with one stone after school, and takes a drive over to the Harrington house. A quick driveby shows that her boyfriend’s car wasn’t there, so she figures he must have just skipped school because of last night’s disagreement. As for her best friend though, she couldn’t have said the same thing.

She slows down and parks directly behind Barb’s car, jogging over and taking a peek inside. Everything was the same, Barb’s purse was on the floor board, and the sweater she changed out of was laid in the seat.

No. No way. She couldn’t believe this. If Barb didn’t drive home last night then where was she? She tried to come up with excuses, tried to make up ideas that would lead to her coming home without her car but…

Nothing made sense.

She about cried on the way home, on the verge of a breakdown as she thinks only but the worst of the worst.

“Hey!” Her mother calls out as she enters the house. “You’re home early! How was the game?” When her mother notices how quiet she was, it is when she meets her daughter halfway. “Nancy? What’s the matter?”

“I-It’s Barb.” Nancy croaks, shaking. “I think... something happened. Something terrible.” She hopes she’s just over exaggerating, but she doesn’t know about that.

She can’t shake off this dreadful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“I don’t know, Chief.” Powell begins, really on the fence about all that they read.

“What don’t you know?” Hopper asked, confused.

“This lady, Terry Ives, sounds like a real nut to me. Her kid was taken for LSD mind control experiments? She’s been discredited. Claim was thrown out–”

Hopper sighs. “Okay, forget about her. Take a look at this.” He slides over a newspaper clipping he printed out. The headline said: ‘MK ULTRA EXPOSED’. He points to a familiar face in the picture. “Dr. Martin Brenner.”

“Who?”

“Brenner. He runs Hawkins Lab.”

“Okay…”

Hopper sits back in his chair with disbelief and scoffs. “You don’t find that interesting?”

“Not really.” Powell said, with a shrug. “He was involved in some hippie crap back in the day, so what?”

“No, this isn’t hippie crap. This is CIA-sanctioned research.”

“Doesn’t mean he had anything to do with our kids.”

“Come on. Look at that.” Hopper points to the other people in the picture. “Hospital gowns. All of ‘em. Now, that piece of fabric that the teacher found by the pipe. That sure looked like a hospital gown to me, huh? Am I wrong?”

“I don’t know, Chief.”

“Come on, man. Work with me here. I’m not saying that there’s some grand conspiracy–” (You sure about that?) “I’m just…” He sighs, exhausted. “I’m saying maybe something happened. Maybe Will and Stephanie were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and they saw something that they shouldn’t have.”

Powell makes a face. “It’s a reach.”

“It’s a start.”

Before more could be said, Powell’s radio goes off, and Callahan starts speaking.

[ ‘Hey, Powell, is the chief with you?’ ]

Hopper wastes no time to reach over and take the radio off his partner’s shoulder, answering it, “Hopper here. What do you got?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The boys follow Eleven through the woods, the sun finally setting, slowly engulfing them in darkness if it wasn’t for the lights on their bikes. To everyone’s shock and confusion, she had brought them to a familiar place.

She turns around and faces them, replying, “Here.”

Mike gives her a look. “Yeah, this is where Will lives.”

“Hiding.”

He shakes his head. “No, no, this is where he lives. He’s missing from here. Understand?”

“What are we doing here?” Lucas asked, dropping his bike in annoyance.

“She said he’s hiding here.”

“Um…” He looks around. “No!”

Now it was Dustin’s turn to look annoyed. “I swear, if we walked all the way out here for nothing–”

“That’s exactly what we did. I told you she didn’t know what the hell she was talking about!”

Mike sighs and looks at her. “Why did you bring us here?”

“Mike, don’t waste your time with her.” Lucas replies, fed up and tired.

“What do you want to do then?”

“Call the cops, like we should have done yesterday.”

“We are not calling the cops!”

“Hey, guys?” Dustin says, something catching his attention.

“What other choice do we have?” Lucas yells again.

“Guys!” He snaps, drawing their attention to the police cars rushing by, followed by an ambulance. Their sirens were blaring loudly, and were heading in a direction they all knew where it led to.

A dreadful feeling came to all of them instantly.

��Oh no…” Mike whispers.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Stephanie wrote on the wall with a marker the best she could, drawing the alphabet in each row. They couldn’t see the lights or the letters Joyce probably scribbled on too, but they could make do with what they had.

“This should probably help, right?”

“Definitely.” Will agrees with a nod.

“Good.” She smacks her hands together. “Alright, come on Mrs. Byers, talk to us. Ask us some questions.”

“Come on, Mom.”

They waited and waited, until they finally heard her speak.

|| Okay. Okay, baby, talk to me. Talk to me. Where are you guys? ||

“What should we say?” Will asked, as he climbed onto the couch.

“Uh…” What could they say? “Here! Right Here. Tell her that.”

“Okay.”

Will Reached up and started touching right above each letter, listening – His mother repeating back whatever he touched.

|| ‘R’. Good, good, good, good. That’s good. Come on, come on. ‘I.. G... H... T... H... E... R... E…’.‘Right here’. ||

Stephanie frowns, worriedly. Yeah, I know it doesn’t make any sense but it’s true.

“Come on, Mom. Understand. Please.” Will begged, quietly.

|| ‘Right here’? I… I-I don’t know what that means. I need you to tell me what to do. What should I do? How do I get to you guys? How do I find you? What should I do? ||

“Um…” Will looks over at the teenager. “What should we tell her?”

Steph’s mouth opens and closes quickly. What do they tell her if they’re not even sure what this place is? “Fuck… um…” She scratches her head. “How about–”

. “I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING.” .

The vicious voice seemed to spread itself around the house like a disease making the hair on their necks stand, and a chill ran up their spines. And then all the supposed “dead” electricity started going off, turning the whole house into a light show; Radios and TVs started going frantic; Fans turning on and spinning around too.

Will starts looking around all disoriented. “Steph, what’s going on?”

“I–” She gasps as she hears the infamous growl in the distance, then the sound of the beast trying to bust through the wall behind her. “Will!!”

The boy frantically writes something out of his mother, just as the monster’s claw broke through the house. Steph takes a quick shot to stun it enough for them to run out the back door – From there, they were off running into the forest.

Again.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Joyce set the brush down, her alphabet wall was done and ready to use. She takes a few steps back so she can see the whole thing, and rubs her hands impatiently.

“Okay.” She breathes, mentally preparing herself. “Okay, baby, talk to me. Talk to me. Where are you guys?” It takes only a second for a letter to appear. “‘R’. Good, good, good, good. That’s good. Come on, come on. ‘I.. G... H... T... H... E... R... E…’.‘Right here’.”

What?

That doesn’t make sense. What do they mean they’re right here?

“‘Right here’?” She says again, puzzled. “I… I-I don’t know what that means. I need you to tell me what to do. What should I do? How do I get to you guys? How do I find you? What should I do?”

She sees the light flicker again, and waits to see what they spell. Slight spoiler…

It was not what she expected them to say.

They were letters that were going to take her breath away.

And then all the lights in the house turned on and flickers rapidly, a sound of growling coming from behind. Scarcely, she turns to find something trying to crawl out of her wall. Terrified to even scream or speak, she starts to back away towards the door as a beast breaks through the wallpaper and hisses.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The boys biked faster and faster, trying to catch up to the emergency vehicles, fearing the worst was yet to come. Just like they suspected, they ended up right at Sattler Quarry.

Meanwhile, Hopper was shaking, praying that what Callahan told him was not true. He arrives at the scene to find paramedics going deep into the water, two stretchers trailing behind. He doesn’t even know if he parked the car or not as he rushes out; A terrible, terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He runs and blends into the crowd of firemen, waiting (im)patiently for their findings.

“Oh, Jesus.” He mutters, trying so hard to keep his composure. “Oh, God. Please tell me it’s not the kids.”

The boys and El hid behind a truck, hearts in their throats as they watched as a waterlogged body of a boy was being loaded on the stretcher – soon followed by a larger female.

As soon as he saw the clothes, as soon as he saw the color of their hair, Hopper knew he was too late. Not wanting to break down right there and scream, he turns away and heads to his car. How in the world was he going to be able to tell Joyce and Claudia about this? How was he going to tell them that he failed to save their children after they begged him to? What could he have done differently to change this atrocious outcome?

The boys were shaking their heads from afar, not wanting to believe what they’re seeing. It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare. It has to be! They can’t really be–

“It can’t be them.” Mike choked, shaking his head. “It can’t be.”

“It’s Will and Steph.” Lucas says, lips quivering. Both boys were a mess, almost coming undone, but Dustin…

Oh, Dustin.

He felt like he was about to faint.

“Phanie…?” He whispers, taking a step back while holding his head. No. No. No, No, No, No, No, No, No, No, No– No! This can’t be real! This can’t be! She can’t be–

“It’s really them.” Lucas said, after getting another look once the bodies were brought back to shore. Tears were in his eyes, and they were ones he wasn’t even going to try to hide like he normally would.

Same thing goes with Mike, who was hugging himself, and sobbed. His best friend was gone. A girl that was like a sister to him was gone. He just couldn’t… wait. “Dustin?” He begins, looking over his friend who seemed so far away from this world.

It was a scary look, enough for even El to get scared and worried. She reached out to him, to comfort him; She even muttered his name for the first time.

To everyone’s surprise, he slaps her hand away.

“‘Dustin’? ‘Dustin’, what?!” He snaps, hatefully. “You were supposed to help us find them alive. You said my sister was alive?! Why did you lie to us?” He points at her, scaring her again. “What’s wrong with you? What is wrong with you?!”

Eleven stays quiet, not even sure what to say from his outburst.

“Say something! Give me an answer, damn it!” He yells, as Lucas and Mike take a step closer.

“Dustin–” Mike tries, but the boy shakes his head and backs away.

“Screw this! Fuck everything!” Dustin turns around and grabs his bike, his friends ushering him to calm down before taking off. But whatever they say wasn’t going to be enough. The Henderson was practically up the hill when they finished their speech, and wasn’t planning on slowing down no matter what happens.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, not too far down the road, Joyce was running for her life – running whatever that thing was that crawled out of her wall. She was so scared that she didn’t even realize a car was coming towards her. Luckily, it stopped mere inches away, causing her to scream.

“Mom?” Jonathan says as he gets out. “Mom, what happened?” His mother couldn’t speak, only reaching out to grab her son and hold on to dear life. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I got you.”

But everything is not okay. Far from it.

Because in the distance, police were coming to inform them of the unfortunate news of their son and brother.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Steve slips through the sliding door in the back of his house since it was much quieter. He really didn’t feel like facing his parents just yet, and he knows this is around the time at night where they sit around with a glass of wine/beer and watch their shows. He’ll just see and deal with them in the morning, and hopefully they don’t notice any signs that there was a party last night.

He walks lightly across the floors, his mind set to go for the stairs which was going to be a bit tricky since they do tend to creak in some spots. A quick look into the living room he finds his dad on the couch, and his mother standing up but facing the opposite way.

Perfect. He thought and made his move just as his mother’s voice broke through.

The black, wavy haired and brown eyed woman was pacing around a bit, clearly upset about something – or someone to be exact.

“The boy was skipping school today, Richard. Can’t you believe that? How is suppose to keep up his grades?”

Steve had to hold back from groaning as he eye rolled. Here she goes again. He chooses to ignore it, and is about to when he hears the next thing.

“If it wasn’t for his girlfriend calling we would have never known.”

He froze as soon as his foot touched one of the steps. Nancy called?

His girlfriend actually called the house? She was actually calling because she was wondering where he was at? Even after their fight? He could smile because it warms his heart that she cares, but he was also devastated that his mother was the one to pick up the phone. He hasn’t even told–

“On the bright side, he’s dating a Wheeler. A Wheeler! You know what her father does for a living, right?” She chuckles with excitement. “It’s perfect. I can almost cry.”

And here comes another eyeroll. See this is why he didn’t bother mentioning this girlfriend this time around to his mother. He knew once she found out who her family was it was going to be a game changer.

Jesus, Christ. He can’t wait to see what’s in store for him in the morning.

“Well, it beats the other choices he’s had in the past.” His father said, pouring salt into old wounds and making him shake his head.

These freaking people, man. I swear. Steve starts to go up the stairs when he hears another voice; This time it was on the TV.

. < In Other words– breaking news. The bodies of some local children, William Byers and Stephanie Henderson have been found. > .

He froze again, this time more rigid and cold.

No.

No, he didn’t just hear that right.

No, his mind’s just playing tricks on him because of last night…

Right?

. < The children have been missing since the 6th, and local authorities and it’s volunteers worked many hours to bring them home, only for it to end in a tragedy. > .

“About fucking time.” Charles said, raising his beer with joy. “Damn weirdo. I guess our worries about her hanging out with our son again are put to rest.”

Jessica sighs with relief. “Thank God for that. I was tired of seeing her face everywhere.”

“Amen to that.”

He listened to his parents laugh, and clink their drinks together as the world started to spin around him.

No.

This isn’t right. This isn’t right. This isn’t right. This isn’t right. This isn’t–

He’s not sure how much noise he made, or if he made any, but Steve was out the door again in a split second – running straight for his car where he’ll speed off to the unknown parts of Hawkins.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Dustin stumbles inside his house, slamming the door with more force than necessary. Maybe it was necessary ‘cause it got his mother’s attention. She came from the other room, asking what’s going on as he stares at her with a red face and puffy eyes, cheeks stained with tears that wouldn’t stop falling.

“Dustin? What’s wrong?”

He felt like something was wrapped around his vocal cords, and there was a knife sticking into his chest, and there was something hot poking at his lungs. He has to speak. He has to tell her. It’s better if she knows from his lips rather than a man in blue.

“Dustin?” She tries again, getting closer.”

“M-Mom…” He begins, his whole body starting to tremble. “St-Stephanie… sh-she’s… she’s…” Oh, god. Why can’t he freaking say it?

“She’s what?” Claudia asked, worriedness creeping up onto her features.

“Sh-She’s… she’s gone.” He whispers into a sob. “Th-They found them both in… I-In the quarry.” Another sob. “Th-They’re b-both gone. M-Mom. St-Stephanie’s gone…”

And then his mother started to shake her head and said ‘No’, followed by Dustin’s reassurance. This went back and forth for who knows how long, but it ended with Claudia being in the same state as her son – a hobbling mess.

“I-It’s true…” He gasps. “I-I saw it my-myself. They’re r-really b-both gone.” And then he broke down again, this time in her arms. She holds him tight, trying to be the strong one here.

“Shh, baby, we’ll get through this.” She soothes, rubbing the curls on the back of his neck. Her son grips onto her clothes, burying his head into her chest and lets out never ending gasps for air.

“Mommy…” He choked, as his ears picked up on the sirens in front of his house.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Steve’s surprised the gas pedal hasn’t gone through the floorboard yet with how much force he’s applying. He doesn’t even know where he’s going, doesn’t even know if he’s hit something, or runs a red light, but he does know that he’s not anywhere near the speed limit.

The news story was still playing around in his head and it was certainly not helping the situation.

. < From the looks of it, the poor children had plummeted into the quarry and ended up drowning with possible hypothermia. But the mystery still remains on why these two disappeared in the first place. Hopefully, the police can find the answer to that, and bring some closure to the grieving families. > < Hopefully so, Liz. I can only imagine what they’re going through right now. > < Everyone here at WCPK would like to give our condolences. And we advise everyone watching to give a moment of silence for the children. > .

Steve slams on the breaks, the wheels spinning and making an awful sound as he stops along one of the abandoned roads in the town. He starts breathing heavily, which slowly turns into panting. His heartbeat was in his ears, his throat tight and dry, his brown eyes starting to gloss over.

“Fuck…” He whispers, in disbelief. No matter how many times he thinks this is a dream, thinks that maybe they were wrong and it was two other kids they found, his guts tells him ‘No’ and ‘This is real’.

“Fuck…” He says again, the pain was slowly turning into anger which eventually led to him banging on every surface in his car. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!”

Stephanie Henderson was dead. The girl he knew since five was dead. The girl he made promises with was dead. The girl who was there for him at his every low was dead. The girl who was the only one to make him really laugh and smile was dead.

The girl he had to give up to protect was dead.

Stephanie Henderson… The girl that was his friend.

No.

Screw that!

He didn’t want to make that choice but he had to.

The girl that is, and will always be, his friend is dead.

She was just supposed to keep moving on in her life, she was just supposed to keep hating him until she completes her dreams. She was supposed to stay in Hawkins and pretend not to know him until her dream life opens up and whisks her away.

She was supposed to be alive and safe.

She wasn’t supposed to be dead at the bottom of a quarry with a boy she offered to protect.

Everything he did to make sure she lived was now pointless.

Now, tears rolled down his face, his hands trembling and his lower lip quivered. Every emotion he kept locked up from their old friendship had returned and it was eating him away, tearing him bit by bit, suffocating him till he turned blue.

He still couldn’t believe it. He wishes he could blink and reality would reveal it was just another dream.

He knows it won’t be like that. It never will be. So instead…

Steve found himself screaming until his throat ran raw.

(TBC)

A/N: Did I emotionally destroy all of you enough? I apologize a bit if so...

~~~

-Taglist is Open-

@ladygrey03 @poppet05 @tooearlyforthis @lovesfics @lordzzz

@mirkwoodshewolf @sadbitchfangirl @olivewisp

@emsownuniverse @unspecifiedvisitor @smaryamsstuff @kitty49646 @jinxeee @bookkeeperlove

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queenimmadolla · 9 months ago

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I haven’t mentioned it yet but Jonathan and Nancy have their first born (a girl, Laurie) just before Maple is born and i can’t stop imagining the cute little baby photoshoots Jonathan has for them—whenever Reader and Eddie take the kids back to Indiana—in their poofy little dresses, frilly baby socks with big bows on their heads as the babies fumble around and interact with each other.

It’s the first time Maple is encountering another baby and it’s so obvious they like each other, even though Laurie has to be stopped numerous times when it looks like she’s trying to eat Maple’s face (she’s got no teeth, so it’s harmless), and Maple likes to pull at Laurie’s hair because it’s her new interest, along with anything shiny things (it’s NOT harmless, Laurie wails, you try to stop Maple every time while she’s all :D and Eddie sympathizes with Laurie because he’s had Maple yank enough hair off his head to make a wig with).

#pennyverse #eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson #maple 🍁#jancy #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler

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fluffansmut · 2 years ago

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Masterlist

Eddie Munson x reader

I’ve got you sweetheart - smut, aftercare, fluff

I can tell - sick fic, hurt/comfort

Use your words - smut, Dom!Eddie, Sub!Reader

12 fics of Christmas - Christmas themed stories, fluff, smut, hurt/comfort

Clear your head sweetheart - smut, Softdom!Eddie, Subby! Reader

Are you leaving? - angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

I can never be her - angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Clementine - hurt/comfort, fluff

You’re the one I want - angst, fluff

Hellfire fuck -smut

Like you haven’t done that - three parts, smut, established Jancy and Jopper.

part1

part2

part3

Eddie x fairy!reader , part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5 - fluff, fairy & crybaby!reader, blurb

Fairy’s first Christmas - advent calendar, fluff, fairy!crybaby!reader

Steddie

Lean on me - hurt/comfort, friends-to-lovers

Ronance

Use your words - light smut, Dom!Nancy, Sub!Robin

We’ll be down for dessert -smut, insecure!Robin

Ronance x reader

Take it like a good girl - smut, Dom!Nancy, Softdom!Robin, Sub!reader.

Jancy

How was the pullout?- smut

The fruity four

They seem a bit…queer? - teaser, steddie, Ronance

What if-ing - steddie, ronance, slight smut, fluff

Jim Hopper & Wayne Munson

Hawkins unofficial support group for unofficial fathers - hurt/comfort, fluff, slight angst

#eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #ronance #robin buckley x nancy wheeler #robin buckley x female reader #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler x jonathan byers #Jancy #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #masterlist #the fruity four

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curiositydooropened · 2 years ago

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Better Off - Part Two

Four years since Argyle's wedding, Robin invited you and the gang to her boss's lake house. Hoping good memories will be made, you're forced to wrestle with some ghosts of your past.

This fic runs in the same Universe as My Whole Life, Too.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader, Eddie Munson x Reader

Wordcount: 14,132

Warnings: second chance romance, angst, fluff, sex and sex adjacent (minors DNI, thanks!), recreational drinking and drug use, mentions of pregnancy and parenthood, mentions of the loss of loved ones

Navigation • Masterlist • Part One

---

Your gaze blurred on ribbons of gold and ivory, stretched and pulled and flipped as a man in candy stripes worked his taffy on its puller. The air smelled sticky sweet of vanilla and lemon and warmth, and you bundled tighter into your sweater with each burst of cold air and ding of a bell at the door.

Another worker with rolled sweets pressed and smacked them onto the countertop, the scattering of beads pulling your focus and stirring you from your daze. She offered a sample with a kind smile, and you thanked her before popping the sticky sour drop into your mouth.

It ached at the stress sore just between your teeth and molars, but you supposed you deserved the slight agony. With a sigh, you dropped your shoulders and allowed Robin to shove you gently back to the cobblestones streets, the outside air a misty chill. Large, grey clouds loomed in the distance, the forecasted storm apt weather for your current state of mind.

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” Robin groaned for the four hundredth time that day.

You managed to plaster on a smile, though you could feel the dishonesty behind it, and gave her a hand squeeze. “Shut up, please.”

“Yeah, Robin, we’re fine,” Nancy agreed sidling up on her other side, that special Nancy-Wheeler-determination etched between her brows. “All of this shit needed to be aired out anyway. You just facilitated it.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “That makes me feel so much better.”

You shrugged. “I’m glad it’s all coming out now, when I have you two for support.”

Nancy’s facade nearly broke then, the glimmer of emotion in her eyes, but she gave a curt nod. “Me too.”

Robin groaned and started back on your path down the western side of the road. This little lakeside town was full of antique shops and souvenir stores. Every store had something you liked, in a black or navy, or in a Devil red or forest green, smoked charcoal or honeyed yellow. You’d given up a few stores ago now, understanding the Universe was just mocking you.

Other than the looming storm clouds and the lingering guilt from the night before, you supposed you were having a lovely, if not much-needed girls day. In any other scenario, you’d be delighted to walk such a pristine little village, smelling the early summer buds and tasting at each little eatery along the route. Plus, the company was ideal.

“Robs, I’m coming to visit you immediately, I hope you know,” you linked your arm with hers and fell into step. “You’ll never see me because I’ll spend the entire trip holed up in a bakery, elbow-deep in baguettes, but I’ll be there. You’ll teach me French?”

“Bien sûr,” she snickered, tugging you into a vintage clothing shop.

The window display had a little black dress á la Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and the place smelled of mothballs and rose-scented perfume. It reminded you a bit of your grandmother, on your mother’s side. She had an oversized hatbox that was passed down to you, chock full of love letters from soldiers in the war.

A similar hatbox sat near the register, pale pink and pressed satin, and you jimmied the top off to see if any secrets lay inside. No love letters, but a collection of multicolored silk scarves. You pulled one from the top, white with thin, navy Breton stripes and tied it around your neck. “What do you think, Robin? Will I fit right in?”

Robin abandoned her post near an oversized button bin, hands already full, and waggled her eyebrows, dropping her haul to the countertop. “It’s perfect,” she chuckled, caressing it between her thumb and forefinger.

You watched her blue eyes scan your features, smile softening, and eventually her padded shoulders dropped in a sigh.

“You can’t run away to France with me.”

You smiled at that. “Why not?”

She shook her fringe from her eyes. “Eddie’s not mad at you, you know.”

You swallowed, nodded. “I know. I’m still going to apologize.”

“And for what it’s worth,” she dug through the box in front of you, avoiding your gaze. “Steve did love you, maybe does love you.”

You sighed and untied the scarf around your throat, suddenly suffocated by the stuffy air in here. “Steve loves the idea of me.” You pinched at the bridge of your nose, remembering you were talking to his best friend too. “I just mean… I don’t think it’s fair to start something again when I can’t be certain how I’d like to finish it.”

Robin nodded. “I can appreciate that stance. It’s very… mature.” She commented with the flair for dramatics that would put Eddie to shame, pulling a rose-covered scarf from the box with a flourish and tying it around her head.

You snorted.

“Guys,” Nancy’s voice was so meek from the corner of the room, you barely recognized it. When you turned, she was holding the world’s smallest knit sweater, navy blue with a great white whale, and she was crying.

—

You recognized the calm from ten years of coastal living. That sweet, soft lull in birdsong, the electricity in the air. Clouds blackened the sky, and off-shore docks groaned under whitecaps’ wake. You stood in your room, looking out the tiny window at the billowing tops of trees, fingers idling at the satin ribbon around your neck, Robin’s treat. You couldn’t focus in the silence, only hearing the thrum of your heart against your ribcage. You could sense Eddie in the room next door, could feel smoke and anxiety attached to a string around your finger, reminding you of the atrocities you’d enacted. Calm before the storm.

With a deep breath and a decided snap of tension, you toed out of the room, floorboard creaking with each step toward atonement.

Only, Eddie’s room was empty, door wide, belonging strewn about like he’d moved in. His window was bigger than yours, curtains drawn and window cracked. A cool breeze whipped around your knees, billowing the soft chiffon of your skirt. You sighed and crossed, moving a handmade ashtray from the window sill to the side table. A well-loved copy of A Wizard of Earthsea sat beside the lamp, dog-eared to all Hell.

You tugged the window down and latched it when something glinted to the North, catching your eye.

From this vantage, you could just make out the tip of the dock, and the boat in its mooring, rocking mercilessly back and forth. You cursed and turned heel to find Steve waiting in the doorway, hands stuffed into his pockets, eyes turned up at you like he’d been waiting and didn’t know what to say.

“Did you guys wind the boat up?” You asked before he had a chance to speak.

He opened his mouth, brows furrowed, and that was enough of an answer to have you shoving past him and down the staircase to slip into your sneakers and out the front door.

“What are you-?” Robin called out from her cozy spot on the sofa.

You waved her off with a “Be right back!” and let the slap of rubber to wood lead you down the winding staircase, past the patio and fire pit, and to the end of the dock. Halfway there, you heard Steve calling after you, heard his curses, the distinct thud of his own feet on your tail.

The boat swayed under its awning. Steve’s voice was lost on the wind. Waves thrashed against rocky shores.

“Hold that steady!” You called after him, pointing to the bow, and he rushed as instructed, wind whipping at auburn hair, the navy collar of his polo.

The boat had been placed under the dock, tied to a safeguard by a tight rope, but you knew that if it wasn’t cranked upwards and out of the water, the metal casing surrounding it could cause some serious damage, depending on the intensity of the storm. And, as you put all of your strength and effort into cranking the oversized metal wheel, the storm began to show you just how intense it could get.

Wind rushed between your legs, stretched wide for leverage, slicking your skirt to your thighs as the sky opened up and rain began to pour. A deluge of oversized drops, ice cold, that trampled your hair and soaked your skin, slipping your fingers from their handhold. You cursed, but Steve was right there to help, hair stuck to his temples, biceps flexed as he cranked the boat upward and out of the water.

You hated that you couldn’t look away, frigid wet to the bone, standing between Steve and the house, waves spraying the shoreline, unmoving as he stared back at you, blinking away rainwater, licking it from his lips.

A crack of thunder startled you both, and you ran, slipped on the wet floorboards of the dock to be caught in strong arms, hands that gripped your cardigan at your waist line and pulled you in close, warm, led you to an abandoned beach hut to wait out the storm.

The space was musty and dark and damp, and you were uncomfortable under skin-slicked clothes, pressed against a splintering wooden bench with molding life vests in neon orange. Steve hovered over you, breath heavy in his warm chest, droplets from his hair shaken into your eyelashes and across the tops of your cheeks. His hands remained on your waist, a tether, a buoy, anchoring himself to you and you to the ground for each roll of thunder from above.

Rain pelted the tin roof too loud to hear the racing of your heart, too loud to hear your own anxiety screaming at you to leave, to run back up the hill to safety, too loud to stop you.

Steve’s grip tightened on your waist, tugging at the material of your skirt, and the tip of his nose met your temple, ice-cold, in a line. Then his cheek was pressed to yours, stubble and sunscreen. His breath warmed the lobe of your ear.

You helped him lift you onto the bench, the whole thing wobbling under your weight, but you had faith in his grasp on you, his weight between your legs as he helped to hitch your skirt up one thigh, material tacky to goose-pimpled flesh. His hands were ice-cold, but you were on fire as he trailed fingertips from your hip to your knee, hooking your leg up higher on his hip.

Another roll of thunder wracked through his shoulders, a quake around your frame that you squaring him to face you. His expression was unreadable, pupils wide, but lips drawn downward, jaw clenched. His far-off gaze lingered on your lips, and he licked his own, pawing at the underside of your thigh.

This was the moment of no return. You knew it. You knew he could feel it. Something deep inside was clawing its way up, trying to remind you of all of the heartache you’d endured in the last four years, but the rain wouldn’t let up, and his hand kneaded your flesh in a way that felt so right, so familiar, felt like home.

You caught his elbow to stop his movements, and he tensed, shoulders receding in defeat, like he’d just been waiting for you to stop him, like his mind had been racing like your own.

You breathed his name, like a prayer, and his gaze snapped back to yours. “Touch me.”

Drowning your better judgement, you trailed your fingers down the rope of muscles in his forearm to grasp at his wrist and guide his hand to where you needed him most.

God, it felt like coming home. Steve’s hands were made for you, a perfect form to all of the places you needed him, as if he’d made you himself. You were plaster, and he Michaelangelo. He flattened creases formed over time from wear and stress, and kneaded them smooth and soft.

He stretched and hit places that had your eyelids alight with stardust, places you hadn’t hit in years. Your fingernails caught on the breadth of his shoulders and the rain against the roof dampened the sinful sounds pouring from each of your open mouths. He worked you like he’d been born to do it, a sailor devoted to a life at sea, or rather returning from too many years landlocked, eager and determined.

He muttered affirmations hot and damp against the shell of your ear that had you keening, begging for him to keep going, desperate to stay afloat, until the band snapped and the buoy became untethered, rope unraveling within you.

The rainfall slowed and the sunlight fell in shallow waves across patches in the siding. Your breath evened against the damp planes of Steve’s throat. Clarity began to sharpen the softened edges. A chill wracked through you, soaked through, and you forced him from your space. Gently, you hopped from the bench, skirt falling around shaky knees.

The beach hut door opened with a creak, and you stepped out into the sun.

—

Your eyes remained unfocused on the candlelight, too warm and itchy under an afghan and dry clothes to listen to the nostalgia being shared in the adjacent seating room. You hadn’t left the dining table, reassuring everyone you were fine, just exhausted, when you hadn’t eaten more than a few bites of your dinner. All you could focus on was Steve’s grip around the top of his beer bottle, condensation dripping between the soft pads of his fingers.

“Hey.”

You startled at the intrusion, and tried to blink away the residual flickers in your eyesight, focusing instead on the forlorn look on Jonathan’s face as he scooted into the seat beside you, offering a chocolate bar. You took it with a soft smile, peeling back the plastic wrapping and hunkering further into your patched blanket.

“Remember last month when we were eating pizza at 3AM, laughing about how crazy this trip would be,” he released that cheeky half-smile you hadn’t seen since he’d heard the news.

You snorted, snapping off a section of chocolate to let melt on your tongue. You rolled your eyes, passing it back for him to break off a piece. “Yeah, how’re you feeling?”

He sighed, ran a hand down his face, shrugged. You watched him stare into the flame for a while.

When he didn’t speak, you reached your hand out to take his, and he met your gaze again with a wry smile, squeezing your hand. “At least I’ll be seeing a lot more of you.”

“You will?” You grinned.

He shrugged. “Unless Nancy wants to move overseas. But if that’s the case, I suppose we’ll just take you with us.”

Your heart ached at the sentiment, and you felt your emotions start to stick in your throat. He was moving to be with her. He was dropping everything he loved, everything he had, to be with Nancy, wherever her dreams took her. And although that made you wildly happy for them, it also further drove home that ache in the pit of you, that spot that hurt.

A pair of knuckles wrapped at the doorway, stirring your attention from Jonathan. Nancy and Eddie stood side-by-side, hands shoved into pockets or hid in the sleeves of oversized sweaters. Nancy mumbled a goodnight, tiny frame dwarfed beside the gangly man beside her, both of their curls haloed in candlelight.

“I’ll go with you,” Jonathan hoisted himself upright, planting a soft kiss to your cheek before he followed Nancy up the winding staircase and into the darkness beyond.

Eddie lingered, shuffling closer to break a piece off your candy bar on the table. “Hey,” he mumbled.

“Hey,” you sighed. You hadn’t spoken to him all day. More accurately, you’d been avoiding him all day.

Another burst of laughter echoed from the living room. Eddie nodded toward the kitchen and moved the chocolate to his cheek to ask, “Wanna chat?”

With a swallow and a nod, you pulled your chair out from the table and gathered your unfinished dinner plate to follow him into the kitchen, discarding your blanket at your place setting.

Eddie sidled up to a counter, silhouetted in moonlight, and he stayed silent while you scraped your scraps into the garbage and rinsed your plate. When you were finished, you hoisted yourself to the countertop beside him, shoulder’s hunched, heels kicking at the baseboard cabinet. The light flickered warm from the other rooms, laughter trickling in in intervals of hushed tones.

“I’m sorry about last night,” you both simultaneously, followed by a snicker of understanding. You elbowed him, and he swayed dramatically, sinking his weight back into you.

“Shut up,” you scolded. “I’m actually sorry. I was being a dick. You did nothing wrong.”

“That’s not true,” Eddie countered. “You didn’t deserve what I said. At least, not the way I said it.”

You sighed and linked your arm with his, resting your head atop his bony shoulder. You felt the press of lips to the crown of your head, his cheek to your hair.

“You do know I just want you to be happy, right? And that I love you?”

“I know,” you smiled, tilting your head to kiss at the seam of his band tee. “I love you too.”

“I, uh…” He raked a hand down his face, callouses catching on stubble. “I talked to Steve today, while you guys were out. He told me what he said to you.”

You swallowed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I told him to grow up.”

You pulled yourself upright to see that Cheshire grin poking dimples into pale cheeks.

“And that him hating it just made me want to do you even more. With him watching.”

“Eddie!” You shoved at his shoulder, and once again he sunk further into you, hiding a cackle behind his hand. “You perv.”

“Come on, you know he’d be into that.”

Your face heated at the idea. Your mind flashed back to that dark look in Steve’s eyes, in the beach hut, watching you get off on his thick, warm fingers, the bob of his Adam’s apple, the steady rise and fall of his broad chest beneath your palms.

“I would to,” Eddie elbowed you out of your daydream, and you landed a punch, harder this time.

“Stop!”

He snickered and dodged your next attack, rubbing the sore spot you’d left on his bicep. “You’re fiesty under emotional duress.” He grinned. “What does it say about me that I find that really sexy?”

“That you need help,” you snorted.

He caught your wrist and pressed your hand to his sternum, deepening his voice. “Yeah I do, sweetheart.”

You scoffed as his rumble turned into a laugh, and since you couldn’t take your hand back, you gripped his t-shirt to pull him closer, resting your forehead to his chest. He tucked you under his jaw and released your wrist in favor of wrapping you in a tight hug. Cigarette smoke and sunscreen and rumbled laughter and lithe limbs and still, somehow, it wasn’t enough. Something dammed at your throat, and you clenched every muscle in your body to rid yourself of the anxiety building.

Eddie began soothing ministrations up and down your spine. “You need to talk to him.” He mumbled into your temple, breath hot and chocolatey against your skin. “I mean, really talk to him. Like just the two of you, hash it out for hours. You get out everything you need to. Let him tell his part. We both know you won’t be able to make a decision until you get everything out on the table and really look at it, as a whole.”

You swallowed, your throat dry. “Make a decision?”

He pulled away, pressing soft hands to your cheeks, dark eyes beneath a furrowed brow. “Promise me something?”

You hummed.

“Promise me you’ll talk to him sometime this week. It can be right before we leave, for all I care. But I need you to tell me what you figured out before you get on that plane.”

There was something hopeful in his gaze, features softened to that lost little boy you’d tutored. There were too many meanings behind his words, too many things that spun in your mind and caught somewhere in the ventricles of your heart. “Eddie…” You muttered.

He released your face and wiped nervous hands to his jeans, suddenly shier than you’d seen him in years. “Christ, I didn’t mean it as like an ultimatum or anything. I’m not that guy.” Not like Steve. He scratched at the back of his neck, took a few steps backward. “I just need to know if I need to hide the liquor bottles or if Hawkins’ is getting a new resident.”

God, why did each phrase feel like an extra stab in the gut?

“I’m sorry,” Eddie stammered a laugh, wrapping ringed fingers against the flat plane of his chest. “I think I’ve had too much to drink.” He never drank more than one.

You reached your hand out, stretched all the way across the gap until the tips of your fingers brushed the silver of his rings.

He sighed and took your grasp, allowed you to pull him back into you.

“I promise I’ll talk to him,” you chewed on the inside of you cheek, ducked to catch his gaze. “And I promise I’ll talk to you.”

The dimple tucked into his cheek beside those plump, pink lips, stretched thin in an awkward smile. He nodded. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

Then, he leaned to press his lips to yours. It was chaste, soft, a cascade of curls around your face, and lithe fingertips against your cheekbone. Your eyes didn’t have time to flutter closed. Then he was kissing your knuckles and bending his slender frame into a dramatic bow.

“Goodnight, m’lady.”

You managed a choked laugh. “Goodnight, Eddie.”

—

Kneading dough was grounding, cathartic. It made you feel like everything was right in the world. Soft, sticky between flour-caked knuckles, the dull thud against the rolling board, the squeaky wheels of the rolling pin, the sweet smell of apples caramelizing in a nearby mixing bowl, all of it felt like heaven to you. You were at peace with an apron tied around your waist, lakeside wind sweeping in through the opened window, oven making the small space a bit stuffy and warm.

The others were down at the patio, or out on the water, you weren’t sure. You stayed behind to think, to clear your mind, to distract yourself from the constant tipping of a scale one direction or the other. You’d tossed and turned all night thinking of Steve’s hands and Eddie’s lips and the complications to your life that each one brought. So you decided midmorning should be spent centering yourself, alone with your craft, and at peace.

You’d pressed the dough into its tin, trimming the edges and balling the scraps to be rolled and cut into strips for a lattice work top. You poured the apple slice mixture, all cinnamon and sugar and nutmeg and clove, watching the sun sparkle against their wet flesh. You indulged in licking the spoon, tangy and sticky. Then you sprinkled flour to your surface again to start rolling out the remaining dough, humming to yourself as the birds chirped outside.

You flattened and cut and worked a lattice and ate the scraps, admiring your handiwork before you placed it into the oven and set the little wind-up timer on the stovetop. It was shaped like an egg. Your mom had one when you were young. It disappeared somewhere over time, or in the move. You contemplated stealing this one.

You poured yourself some fresh-squeezed lemonade, tart and sweet, and leaned yourself against the countertop. You watched the sparkle of waves just off-shore and sipped and tried not to allow your mind to wander until the subject of your wandering mind entered your kitchen with mussed hair and sun kissed skin, pulling expensive sunglasses from the freckled bridge of his nose.

“Smells amazing,” Steve smiled, reaching past you for a glass to pour himself some lemonade. You watched his forearm handle the full pitcher with care. You watched the length of his throat as he drank. You watched his tongue dart to lick a drop from the corner of pink lips. He set himself against the counter opposite you, ten feet away and still too close.

“Where’s everyone else?” You asked, praying for Robin to come prancing in with a bucket of ice cold water.

“On the boat. They just left.” He set his glass beside him. “We should talk about yesterday.”

You turned to start the washing up, sink full of mixing bowls and measuring cups. The counter was white with flour. You turned the tap on hot, and the rushing of water into a metal sink had your brain buzzing with images of rain against the tin roof of the hut. You swallowed. “Yesterday was a mistake.”

You weren’t even sure you said it out loud, didn’t dare look to him for confirmation. You just held your front two fingers under the water to gauge temperature, although to be honest, you wouldn’t be able to tell scalding from freezing right now anyway.

“Sure, yeah, totally,” his tone was oddly light. Out of your peripherals, you caught him entering your space, sidling up to the opposite side of you now. He smelled of expensive cologne, deliciously Steve. “Or… we could just make some adjustments to our truce.”

You looked up at him then, caught breathless by the dark look in his eyes. You swallowed. “What?”

He shrugged, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Well, we agreed to be civil and not bring up the past.” He held your gaze. “We only have a couple of days left. Might as well… I don’t know, make the most of it?” His jaw was firm, but there was something playful in his tone, a fire behind his eyes you hadn’t seen in years.

You scoffed. “You’re serious?”

He shrugged again, leaned into your space to brush flour from your shoulder, sweeping your hair back as he did so. God, he was good. “You had fun, didn’t you?”

“Steve,” you peeled yourself away, scrubbing melted sugar from the rim of a measuring cup.

“Come on,” he boxed you in, his frame folding around yours, warm and broad and strong. “You’re on vacation.” The tip of his nose found the shell of your ear, sending sparks from skull to tailbone. “You deserve to relax, babe.”

Babe. So flippant, so casual. It’s what he called you, before, when it was just the two of you playing house in hotel rooms. You elbowed him off of you, grateful when he respected your boundaries and stood a few more feet away.

With a sigh, you turned off the faucet, only the singular measuring cup squeaky clean. You dried your hands on a hand towel embroidered with dairy cow and its milkmaid, and you turned to face Steve.

He had a fantastic pokerface, to add to the list of vast differences between he and his housemate. Where Eddie showed every last thought that came into his mind, Steve remained stoic, strong brow furrowed, jaw tight, keen eyes watching your every movement. He kept his shoulders squared, but lax, and his strong arms kept him upright against the lip of the counter, strong arms you were desperate to have wrapped around you again.

“Be civil, no bringing up the past, and have fun while it lasts,” you agreed before your brain caught up with your words.

All at once, Steve crowded your space again, pressing your backside to the damp countertop, an arm to either side of your hips, dipping his nose to meet yours.

You pressed your fingertips to his chest to push him away a few more inches. “Don’t call me babe.”

His lips split into a grin at that, and he chuckled a low rumble in his chest. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you want.”

He was eager, so eager, and you felt the buzz in your waist, the flutter under your sternum. You watched his tongue wet soft, pink lips, and were suddenly reminded of the third grade, of Tommy H.’s birthday, of the surprise smooch in a treehouse and of wanting to savor that kiss for the rest of your life. As Steve dipped his head low once more, you turned to face the oven, ducking away.

“And I’m not going to kiss you.” An odd boundary you didn’t know you had until it was there, presenting itself in a panic clawing at your chest. You just knew if you kissed him, you’d be done for. You’d be packing everything you owned into a U-haul and signing the lease next to his name. Just like Eddie said.

Steve’s stoic facade seemed to falter for a split second before he nodded and pulled away. He eyed you for a beat too long before he lowered his voice to ask, “Am I allowed to kiss you?” And the implications in his tone had your knees weakening.

You swallowed in a vain attempt to lubricated a parched throat, and nodded.

He emitted a groan from somewhere deep, and you bit down hard on your lip as you watched King Steve Harrington sink to his knees before you, hands traveling up your skirt to knead at the flesh of your thighs like it grounded him, like it made everything right in the world.

He tugged your shirt free from the waistband of your apron and skirt, watching you, amber eyes painted black. His breath was hot against your stomach, your hip bone. “Can you see the front door?” He asked.

You peeled your gaze from him to look through the entry way to the front door. You nodded.

“Good. Keep watch for me, sweet girl.”

—

“Scale of 1-10, how hot do I look?” Robin did a pose, hair stuffed under a wide-brimmed hat and blue blazer sleeves rolled.

“Ten,” you and Nancy affirmed simultaneously, blotting your own pink lipsticks in the full-length mirror on the back of Robin’s bedroom door. You wore a low-cut blouse with flowy sleeves, and Nancy looked sleek in black, and she helped stick a bobby pin into your scalp when a curl threatened to fall out of place.

“What are the odds there’s a single, hot lesbian looking for a hook up?”

“At a country western bar?” Nancy peered back at your friend, and you chuckled.

“Robin,” you reassured. “I promise there will be at least one single, hot lesbian looking for a hook up.”

Robin sighed. “Yeah. Me.”

She’d picked the venue for your night out, spotted it on your walk through town the previous morning, and convinced the group to go after their late evening naps. The sky had started to soak in peaches and golds, and the warmth had cooled from a breeze that billowed curtains and chilled your fevered cheeks. You’d spent the day distracted, praying no one would notice the smile that ached at the corners of your lips. You were thankful for the excuse to be chipper.

“Ladies, I need advice,” Argyle called from beyond the door, and you gently led Nancy to the side so you could open it to meet him. He wore a leather vest with a spearmint button-up beneath it, and in his hands were two ties, one a shocking pink, the other a bolo with a cubic design in brass.

“Bolo, always,” you confirmed.

“That’s what I said!” Eddie called from the next room over.

“Alright,” Argyle nodded and toed back to his own room to put his tie on in a mirror.

Nancy slipped out beside you to meet Jonathan at the top of the stairs. Your heart ached in your chest when you watched his lips meet her temple, and his hand slip into hers. They shared sweet words and walked down the stairs together.

Robin shoved past you. “Sorry, gotta brush my teeth. Will you check on Steve for me? You know he always takes the longest.”

You stood in her doorway for a long moment, staring at the wood of Steve’s bedroom door from across the hall. Your hands clammed up at your sides, but you released a held breath and closed the distance to wrap your knuckles against the panels.

“Come in,” he called from inside, and you turned the handle and pushed yourself inside.

Steve’s room was a mirror of your own, window facing the water, slanted ceiling, headboard against the opposite wall. His bed was neatly made, pillows stacked at attention just like his mom taught him. The bedside lamp illuminated everything soft and warm.

Steve stood at a dresser putting on his watch, forest green polo taught over the muscles of his back. He glanced up at you when you entered, cheeks turning up in a grin. “Hey,” he greeted.

“Hey,” you breathed back, propping yourself against the wall beside the door. “Robin wanted me to tell you to hurry up.”

“I’m ready,” he held his hands out to show himself off, and you admired the stretch of denim across his thighs.

“You look good,” you affirmed, swallowing when he closed the distance between you, eyes flickering to the hallway just to your right hand side.

When the coast was apparently clear, he placed a hand on your waist. “So do you. Tonight should be fun.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you nodded. You felt giddy again, like he had you pressed up against the school lockers, hiding from the principal between classes.

“Yeah?” His voice graveled, and he pressed himself even closer, wedging his thigh between your legs.

“Dingus! You ready or what?” Robin shouted, and all at once, Steve was gone, his warmth replaced by cool breeze.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” he groaned, fidgeting with the watch at his wrist. “Thanks for the help,” he waved it your direction, and you furrowed your brow before noticing Robin’s head poked through the doorway.

She narrowed her eyes your direction, but grabbed Steve’s other wrist to lead him out and down the stairs.

You took a minute to calibrate, a few calming breaths, before you followed them. When you rounded into the hallway, you startled at the sight of Eddie in his own doorway, lithe frame covered in black, damp curls hung in his eyes. That dimple carved deep into his cheek.

“You look smoking hot,” he greeted.

You rolled your eyes but hooked your hand into his elbow and let him escort you down the stairs to meet the others.

—

Tequila was great after the initial burn. Once the tang of lime shocked your taste buds, you were smooth sailing. The music was live and loud. The room filled with smoke and the sweet smell of alcohol. Wooden walls were lined with neon beer logos and antlers. A dart board sat in one corner, a pool table in another. You were warmed from the inside, tingling fingertips and toes.

The first round alone had you doing things you ought not, like catching Steve’s gaze over the top of Nancy’s head. He’d been staring, lips glossy and eyes hungry, and you couldn’t look away until Argyle bought round two.

Round three had you on the dance floor, pressed against the warm rumble of Eddie’s chest while he hummed a balad just under the crooning of the band’s lead singer. Flirting with Eddie was another thing you ought not do, but holding back felt impossible, tequila or no. Especially when he held you so close, thigh between your knees, swaying you back and forth to some slow and sultry tune.

“Have I told you you look smoking hot tonight?” He indulged in another rake of your features, not shy from peaking down your blouse.

You sucked your cheeks between your teeth to avoid the smile aching at them and managed to shrug. “Might’ve mentioned it.”

He chuckled, shaking his hair from his eyes. “Yeah, I like that top.”

“I look better without it,” you countered, cocking a brow.

“I know you do, sweetheart.” His dark eyes shone under dim lighting, and his plump lips turned up at the corners. He was all curls, cigarettes and spearmint, and something in his eyes sank your heart. It was Eddie’s heart on his sleeve again, that poker face slipping just long enough to show you the longing beyond the lust.

You swallowed and placed a hand to his cheek, thumbing over scruff and stubble. His name caught in your throat.

“Song’s almost over,” he mumbled, nuzzling his nose with yours. “Do you trust me?”

You nodded, and the air was expelled from your lungs when he dipped you low. He gripped your thigh at his waist, and you felt the trail of his nose up your sternum and throat as he pulled you upright, breathless and warmed.

Your audience whooped and hollered from their high-top.

Stage shy, you allowed Eddie to take your hand and tug you back to the table. His grip was strong, thumb administering distraction circles upon your wrist. Nancy slid you a full glass of iced water, and you thanked her for it.

“Okay, why the fuck are you both so hot?” Robin scoffed, chugging her own red plastic cup of water.

“Born this way, Buckley. Don’t act so shocked.” Eddie reached over to flick her forehead, and she swatted at him.

“She’s right though,” Jonathan pitched in, saucy grin playing on boyish features. He slung an arm around Nancy’s shoulder, and she grimaced before shoving him off.

“Yeah, you guys should make a porno,” Argyle nodded, mustache turned down in thought before he snapped his fingers. “Baker and the Beast.”

“Jesus Christ,” you snorted, thankful for the water to hide your warming face. You took a long drink, praying for the ice to cool you down.

“Sex Dungeon Master,” Robin chimed in, and you nearly did a spit take.

“Full Metal Banging,” Steve piped in to everyone’s surprise. You looked up at him to see a playful smirk across those sinful lips, and he shrugged, nodded, took another sip of his beer. “I’d watch it.” Something in you ached at the low tones of his voice.

Eddie shook a ringed finger Steve’s direction. “I fucking knew it! I knew you liked to watch. Harrington, you dirty dog!”

Steve merely shrugged, pokerface stoic again while his eyes offered you something more salacious. You wondered if the rest of them caught him staring the way you did, wondered if they could tell what transpired between the two of you in the beach hut, in the kitchen.

A new song kicked on, much faster, more familiar than the last, and Eddie finally released your hand, now cold and clammy, to snap his fingers in Robin’s direction. “Come on, Buckley. Your turn.”

Robin sighed and extended a hand for him to take. “Fine, but no cleavage licking.”

“Come on,” Eddie whined, and before they trailed off to the dance floor, you heard him say, “I washed my tits before we came!”

You laughed and fell into a spot beside Nancy, avoiding Steve’s gaze as you drank your water and attempted to sober yourself up. Maybe three was your limit, maybe two, but you felt just primed enough to give away all of your secrets.

“Nancy,” Argyle stood from his seat and tightened the bolo around his neck. “May I have this dance?”

Before the warmth of Nancy beside you had been replaced by air conditioning and the smell of stale beer, a strong hand had slipped itself between your knuckles.

“Jonathan, watch the table,” Steve said, pulling you onto the dance floor.

Under a swirl of lights, and to the fast rhythm of bass and drums, you were tucked close to Steve’s front and backed toward the center of the dance floor. People swung and dipped around you, and Steve bobbed and weaved your way through them with laughter rumbling deep in his chest. God, you missed that sound.

He was wildly off tempo, and a little off-balance, but maybe that was the tequila affecting your equilibrium. He had one hand to the small of your back, the other swinging wildly, and he stepped on your toes more than once.

“You’re a terrible dancer,” you leaned in to shout into the shell of his ear.

He pulled back to shoot you an incredulous look before pulling you in close again, breath hot on the side of your face. “You taught me how to dance.”

You shook your head, but released a laugh that bubbled high in your chest. “I did not!”

“Yes you did,” he argued. “At prom. I told you I didn’t know how to dance, and you promised you’d teach me. So if I’m horrible, that’s on you.”

You smiled into his chest, and allowed your mind to wander. You wondered what she would think of you now, senior-you, prom-going-you. You wondered how she’d feel, swept around a dance floor in King Steve’s arms all these years later.

You could still remember walking down the staircase to meet him. You could still see the flush of his cheeks when he saw you, could remember the distinct kick of butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey, dingus!” Robin’s voice sliced through your memories. You blinked back into focus to find her and Eddie beside you. Eddie was using Robin’s hand to swat at Steve’s side.

“Will you two grow up?” Steve scolded, ever the dad of the group.

“We have a question for you two,” she ignored him, continuing to prod at his bicep and then yours when he spun you to use as a human shield.

“What?” You laughed.

“What’s the best sex you’ve ever had?” Robin’s voice carried over the music, swam in your head, heated you from the inside out as you felt the stares of intrigue from your dance partner and hers.

You snorted, shook your head, and avoided their gaze. “Yeah, I’m not answering that.”

Robin booed you.

“You’re so drunk!” You laughed.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Eddie grinned, sidling up beside Steve. He had mischief in his eyes. “We can handle it.”

Steve squared up then, stopped your sway, and his mouth stretched into an equally devilish grin. “Yeah, Munson can handle it.”

You cocked a brow, still in Steve’s grasp, and looked straight into Eddie’s big, brown eyes, conjuring a memory you knew would earn a reaction from the both of them. “Campsite at the coast? Back of the car?”

Eddie nodded, big, dramatic, hair swinging in front of his face. He pointed at Robin. “That’s what I said!”

“Holy shit, Harrington, you want some ice for that burn?” Robin cackled, high-fiving you and Eddie both.

When you found Steve’s gaze again, he was blinking back at you, mouth slightly ajar. You tried and failed to bite back the giggle that bubbled in your chest, doubling over into his stunned chest while you wheezed a laugh, tequila taking over.

You heard Robin and Eddie yell run and squeal beside you, and when you looked up, they were spinning manically away. Steve’s mouth had closed, and he licked at his molars, nodding slowly. You worried for half a second before the corner of his mouth turned up, and he spun you away and back. You yelped, narrowly avoiding a speaker.

You crashed into his chest and laughed the tune of his own rhythmic chuckle, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck to hold yourself steady.

“If I had known this is what it’d take to make you happy, I’d have gone down on you at the beginning of the week,” Steve grinned.

“Steve!” You admonished, glancing around to make sure no one was around to hear what he’d said. You were far from the table now, and definitely out of earshot.

“Tell me about the campsite.” When you met his gaze again, it was that same delicious look that set you on fire from the inside out, unwavering.

You breathed his name again, faltering a little on your feet, but he caught you.

“Come on,” he swayed your hips in his hands. “I gotta study my competition if I want to know how to come out on top.”

You licked your lips, searched his honeyed eyes for any sign of a trap, but he was just as tipsy as you were. Tequila painted the hollows of his cheeks pink. “It was the middle of the day. Campers everywhere. We had to be quiet.”

Steve’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His grip on your waist tightened, and he pulled you impossibly closer. You could feel every ripple of muscle beneath the luxurious fabric of his top. He looked around the room before his eyes trailed your face, your lips, down the front of your blouse and back. “This is a room full of people, and the music��s so loud you wouldn’t have to be quiet.”

His words sent heat through you.“You’re drunk,” you sucked in a smile and glanced back across the room at Jonathan drooping in his seat, a soft smile on his face as he watched Nancy and Argyle dance. Robin and Eddie twirled and dipped in a far-off corner.

Steve pressed the tip of his nose to the baby hairs at your forehead. “So take advantage of me.”

In that moment, you realized Steve Harrington could be dangerous, commanding, a force to be reckoned with.

—

The hot, sticky glow of three shots of tequila faded to heart palpitations and a burn in your calves. Though, that could be the dancing, the grin that ached at your features, the early morning burrito, or the anticipation that kept you buzzing, bouncing the balls of your bare feet against floorboards while you counted the creaks and footsteps outside your door.

You turned in earlier than the others, feigning exhaustion related to old age, just to prop yourself against the headboard for nearly an hour before the raucous laughter died down beneath you and the sounds of your compatriots readying themselves for bed filtered in under your bedroom door.

Anxiety replaced that warm, fuzzy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You listened to Robin’s hiccups on high-alert, pulse thudding to her steady rhythm. You toed to the door, pressed your ear to the wood to listen to the mutterings of goodnight, the faucet running in the bathroom, the steady pad of feet just beyond.

Your hand hovered over the lock on your brass knob, but you snatched it away, pacing to the foot of your bed and back. Once, twice, three times. You caught your reflection in a mirror above the bedside. You’d left your makeup on, curled hair falling around your shoulders in tendrils. The bra you wore beneath an oversized t-shirt pinched at the skin under your arm, but it was the prettiest you’d packed in periwinkle lace to match the panties hiding beneath plaid night shorts.

You were making a mistake. Throat dry, you crossed back to the door, reaching for the knob to lock it and turn yourself in for the night.

The cool brass turned under your touch, and the door swung your way, narrow, allowing a shadowed figure to step into the honeyed glow of your bedside lamp.

“Hi,” Steve smiled, towering over you, breath fresh and hair mussed.

You swallowed. “Hi.”

“Sorry,” he hissed, closing the door behind himself. The click emitted feather-light. “Robin wouldn’t let us go to bed. I was worried you fell asleep.”

You shook your head, managed a weak smile. “Nope.”

“Good,” he said. “Are you cold?” His warm fingertips ghosted the skin beneath the hem of your shorts, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake.

You shivered, shook your head again, allowing your eyelids to go heavy as his other hand came to cradle to your cheek.

“Do you still want to do this?”

He had the power to see right through you, always had. You released a shaky breath, shoulders to your ears in a shrug. You swallowed. “I don’t know.” Honesty spilled out. You hadn’t felt this vulnerable with him since Louisville, not this nervous, not this jittery.

A crease tucked between his brows, and he dropped his hand from your thigh to catch your fingertips in his. “I’m not going to push you.”

“I know,” you squeezed his knuckles, hands dwarfing yours. “You never have.”

He smiled at that, nodded toward the bed. “Want to just hang out?”

You nodded and drew him to soft covers and an old mattress. It sunk under your weight, a burst of air puffing out between you as Steve plopped himself down, hands resting on his chest, hair splayed against patchwork. You were drawn to him, fingers itching to run themselves through his hair, to trace the bridge of his nose, connect-the-dots with his freckles, but you hesitated, tucking your knees to your chest.

He turned his head to look at you, lazy smile crossing beautiful, dark features. “I’m glad I sobered up.”

“Yeah?” You were on the fence.

“Yeah.” He groped around the blankets until he found your hand at your side. He massaged at your wrist, your palm, wide stroke with his thumb that smoothed aching joints and eased your mind. He pulled you ever-closer, before trailing your pointer finger over the bridge of his nose. His lashes fluttered closed, and he hummed as you painted his cheekbones with your fingertips, catching on the stubble of his jaw. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you whispered. He brought your fingertips to his lip, soft and pink and damp. You exhaled his name.

He looked at you then, eyes dark, and placed a kiss to your palm, your wrist, the flesh of your forearm, tugging you gently from your fold until you leaned over him, your hair a curtain separating you both from the glow of the bedside lamp. “Do you want me to leave?”

Your throat was dry, your breath staggered. You shook your head.

Steve’s hands found your waist, smooth dregs of his palms up your ribcage until his thumbs met the underwire of your bra. “Do you want me to stay?”

You nodded, sucking in a breath when his hands worked higher, palming at silk and lace.

“I need to hear you say it, babe,” his voice was hoarse, thick.

You faltered on the pet name, a rule broken, his eyelids heavy, warm hands on your breasts, but you didn’t want to think anymore, didn’t want to worry or panic. So you washed it all away, pushed guilt to the back of your mind, and threw a leg over him to straddle his slender waist. “I want you, Steve.”

He sat up, pushing you both upright to drag the soft cotton of your top up and over your head. He groaned at the sight of you, and you felt his lips find purchase at the crux of your throat and shoulder, his mouth wet and warm.

You sunk your fingertips into his scalp, indulging in the vibrations of his voice against your skin.

He pushed the lacy straps down your arms, pressing soft kisses into the bits of flesh that were creased and red. He reached around to undo the clasp, and relief flooded your waist from where the elastic bit at your skin. You released him, allowing the scratchy fabric to fall to the ground at the bedside, and Steve lowered himself back to the mattress.

You felt self-conscious, suddenly, as he drank you in, hands ghosting the bits of your flesh that were marred or torn, burn-scarred, pock-marked. You wondered if you’d aged since he last saw you like this, if you had more wrinkles, more pudge, if the weight of you sank different onto his slender hips. You wondered if your boobs sagged, if the flesh of your thighs doubled over your panty line.

Steve’s eyes didn’t give anything away as he raked your frame, hands molding to you like they were meant to, and after too long of a moment, he spoke. “Shit, babe. My memory doesn’t do you justice. You’re fucking perfect.”

A chill caught on your spine, a chuckle of embarrassment building at the compliment, and you folded yourself back to him, squirming under the scrutiny. “You think about me often, Harrington?”

His nose brushed yours in a nod, and he palmed the swell of your thighs beneath your shorts, grinding you down onto him. “Every single day.”

The honesty stuttered your breath, his fanning your lips, and you knew if you didn’t back away now, you’d be lost to him. As he leaned forward to close the gap, you turned your head, cursing yourself when soft lips met your cheekbone.

You avoided his gaze, moving instead to press a kiss to his jaw. Stubble scratched your lips, you chin. You nosed at his throat until he turned his head, and you wrapped your lips to his soft earlobe, delighting in the rumble of his chest against yours.

His hips snapped into you once more, hardened length pressed to the inseam of your thigh.

“Then we better give you something to remember,” you hissed into his ear.

Before you could act on your promise, Steve had you rolled over, pinning you to the bed with his hips. His lips were on you, hands kneading, frantic, eager. He pressed himself upright to strip his t-shirt, collar first, and when it hit the ground, you both heard the pad of footsteps on the floorboards outside.

You froze, suddenly remembering where you were, who occupied the room all around you. Your pulse thundered in your skull, anxiety licking at every inch of you, until you felt Steve Harrington’s perfect teeth graze your nipple and everything coursed through you like livewire.

“Can you be quiet for me?” He hissed to your skin, gathering your wrists to pin above your head, and you gave a fervent nod, swallowing the saliva flooding your mouth.

Steve was trouble, danger, desperate kneading hands and the rhythmic snap of hips. He was brute strength and roped muscles and demanding. He worshiped and praised God and you and mumbled praises into the crux of your throat, your sternum, building you to the highest high before crashing down on you like a wave.

Even after all this time, he knew how to work you, how to mold you, bend you, command you in hushed tones, hand over your mouth to keep your sinful sounds from spilling between his fingers. He delighted in the challenge, wanted you begging but silent, asking if you wanted more, asking if it was good with his chin to your shoulder, your face buried into his to muffle your moans.

He was strong, confident, delicious, salt-to-the-wounds and salt of the Earth, and you fell apart on his hands, his lips, the crash of his hips like waves across a rocky shoreline. Your eyelids sparkled, the ceiling spotted with starlight, and you came down with the weight of his head on your chest.

Steve placed a chaste kiss to your collarbone and looked up at you, a smug grin etched upon his features. He rolled himself to the side, breath ragged. You closed your eyes and listened to the deep in-and-out, trying to match your inhales with his, to slow your heart rate, to stop the pulsing of every muscle now aching in your body.

“How was that?” He whispered into your neck, turning to wrap his arm tightly around your waist.

You huffed a laugh, shrugged. “Top five, at least.”

He gnawed at your throat and squeezed you tighter into him, both of your bodies sticky with sweat.

Sleep tempted you, darkening your vision, weighing you further and further into the warm squish of the mattress and your pillow. Steve’s breathing calmed against your back, his nose tucked under the shell of your ear, and you wondered if you’d fallen asleep so easily in the last four years.

Steve muttered your name, and you hummed, drifting on the edge of bliss. “I do still think about you every day.”

And you wish he hadn’t said it, wish he hadn’t broken the spell, wish he hadn’t reminded you why you were here, what this was all about. The moonlight filtered in through treetops out the window beyond, and you tucked the blanket higher around your shoulders. Maybe there was no harm in late night truths whispered between lovers.

“The campsite wasn’t the best ever,” you confessed, voice weak. Steve loosened his cradle. You turned to face the ceiling, staring up at vaulted shadows. “Remember that first night in Louisville? I hadn’t seen you in so long, and we were tiptoeing around each other all night, but then the door’s closed in that elevator…”

Steve had propped himself up beside you, cupped your cheek. You felt the soft pad of his thumb against your lower lip. “I really want to kiss you.”

The only rule left to be broken, and your heart ached for it. You took a deep breath and avoided his gaze. You couldn’t do this to yourself again, couldn’t do it to him. It was selfish of both of you. You slipped from his grasp and out of the covers, digging through the dark for your t-shirt and sleep shorts. “The other’s will be awake soon.”

—

The sun cast the tops of your cheeks and nose in warmth, golden light filtering through your eyelids while you bathed in a lounger, allowing your Munson-special pancakes to settle. Your friends seemingly revived from breakfast, splashed a level below you, voices and laughter filtering up the wooden walkway. You battled the melancholy of your final full day with memories from the night before that had a smile aching at your lips.

You sighed and let your mind drift to the weight of Steve’s body against yours, the slam of his hips, the tight grasp of his hand to your wrists above your head.

“I’m heading up to take a shower,” his voice sliced through your daydream, graveled from a late night. “You guys need the bathroom before I go up?”

Nancy shook her head beside you, glancing up at him from above the sunglasses perched on the soft bridge of her nose.

Steve looked to you, and you squirmed under his gaze, shaking your own head with a smile. “Kay,” he smiled back. “Be back in a bit.” And you couldn’t resist in watching the slope of his thighs as he climbed the hill beside you to walk into the house.

“Holy fucking shit,” Nancy slammed her book down on her lounger.

You jumped and sat upright, glancing around you for something to cause her reaction, a giant bee, a severed arm.

“You slept with Steve.”

You halted your search and slowly met Nancy’s gaze. Her lips were pursed, and there was something twisted in the way she looked at you, like she was both pissed and proud she’d cracked the case.

You cowered under her gaze, picking at a sliver in the lounger, and fumbled through an excuse. “I don’t know what - ”

“Don’t bullshit me,” she snapped. “I saw him walking out of your room at 5AM when I got up to puke, and that little exchange you two just had confirmed it.” She waved her finger in the air to exemplify her point.

You felt your face heat. You didn’t appreciate the accusation in her tone. “Okay, so? We’re consenting adults.”

Nancy stuffed her arms under her armpits and turned to face you. “So are the two of you back together?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, the ragged rate of your breath speeding your pulse, or maybe it was the other way around. “No,” you huffed. “We’re just having fun while we’re here.”

Nancy rolled her eyes.

“Hey, no, don’t come at me with that. What about you and Jonathan, huh? Or should I say Robbie?” It was a low blow, and the moment it fell from your lips, you wish you could it all back.

Nancy sucked her lips between her perfect teeth and turned back in her sun lounger, hands flattening against her lower abdomen. “Yeah, well we learned our lesson, didn’t we?”

You blanched at the thought and shook your hair from your eyes. “Jesus, Nancy. I’m sorry.” You mumbled.

She didn’t respond for a long minute, looking out on the water, listening to the chirp of birds along the tree line. Then, she turned her head to face you, sun sparkling off the chrome tint of her sunglasses. “Do you remember that summer after Louisville? That night out on the Cape, just us girls?”

You barely remembered it, a drunken night out in a bar where everything smelled like the country club Steve’s parents frequented. You remembered sequins sticking to your face on a tiled floor. You remembered watching couples spin on a dance floor and wanting to splash your drink in the face of every single one of them. You remember feeling empty, broken, lost.

“I don’t think I realized how in love you two were before then.” She continued, turning back to sunbathe, as if this was the easiest breeziest of topics. “I mean, I knew you were close. You always spoke about him like family. And we all knew you were fucking, even though you tried to hide it.” She raised an eyebrow at you.

You swallowed.

“But that night’s when I realized how heartbroken you were.”

You closed your eyes, released a shaky breath, tried to maintain the happy memories that were quickly slipping from between your fingers, an anchor of your past traumas rocketing you to the bottom.

“I can’t begin to imagine how he felt.”

“Nancy,” you chided, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Come on,” she argued. “He won the fucking jackpot with you. Plus, he’d been burned too many times by other self-hating idiots to let himself get close enough to you. That’s why he never asked you to be his girlfriend, why he never left Hawkins to be with you. He was terrified you’d bail, and then he realizes he can’t live without you and what do you go and do?”

That hit somewhere deep, a dull ache that spread like hot liquid through your chest. “I didn’t…”

“Of course you didn’t know,” she muttered, offering an innocuous wave to Jonathan who swung his arms in the air from the level beneath you, perched atop Argyle’s shoulders in the shallow water, Robin atop Eddie. “You guys haven’t talked in four years. And it wasn’t my job to tell you. My job, as the best friend, is to tell you you don’t need him. That you’re strong and beautiful and independent. My job is to cheer you on through your accomplishments and listen about your escapades with new and exciting men.”

God, you loved her, and you didn’t want to cry because she was right, you were strong and confident and independent, and you didn’t want to cry because Nancy wouldn’t cry, but you couldn’t help the emotion damming at your throat.

“He was supposed to tell you all of this, but clearly you two are incapable of communication.” She sat upright in her chair again and scoffed. “You know what? No. You’re going to talk to him, right now.”

You blinked, heart racing at the idea. “What? No.”

Nancy stood from her seat and grabbed you around the elbow, hoisting you upright. “Yes, right now. I’ll distract everyone else. This can’t go on any longer, or we’re all going to implode. You’re going into that house, and you’re going to hear his side of it. Because we all know you won’t be able to make a decision until you do.”

—

The floorboards creaked under your weight, a groan at each step to remind you of where you were going. Your bare feet, sun soaked, stuck to the finish. A breeze caught gossamer window dressing, but did nothing for the slick of sweat beading your upper lip, the creases of your palm, your lower back. The steam from Steve’s shower framed the bathroom mirror and permeated the upper floor with his scent, squeaky clean and expensive.

Your hands trembled against the surface of his bedroom door. You heard the shuffle of fabric on the other side, and a low, soft hum. You’d almost forgotten that about him, the way he sang when he thought no one was around. If he had an ear worm, or just felt happy about something.

You took a deep breath, pressed your forehead to the door, and knocked.

“Yeah, come in,” he called, and then “Hello?” after your lengthy hesitation.

You turned the brass knob and entered, clicking the door behind yourself. Steve stood across the room, nearest the window, tugging at his watch straps again. His white t-shirt was speckled grey across his shoulders where his hair had dripped into a freckled pattern. When he saw you, his honeyed eyes lit with recognition, something hungry in them.

“Hi,” you managed, and there must have been sheer terror in your eyes because Steve’s face flashed with alarm, and he made a slow cross your way.

“What’s wrong?” His tone reminded you of too many late night phone calls, his voice keeping the nightmares at bay.

You swallowed, allowed him to lead you to the edge of the bed, felt his fingers slot into yours, tried to ignore how soothed you felt already. “We need to talk about Louisville.”

He searched your eyes for a moment before he turned his attention to your hand in his, tracing your knuckles, brushing a thumb over your nails. “What about it?”

“I want to know what happened,” you sighed, allowing yourself to flop backwards onto a hand knit throw, the mattress swishing beneath you. “I want to know where it all went wrong, why I lost you. I guess I just need some insight, Steve. Because I’ve been wracking my brain for four years trying to figure it out.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he sighed, and you saw his teeth chew on his bottom lip. Then he brought his nail beds to his mouth, a bad habit from his youth.

You stopped his wrist, pulling his hand back into yours. “You were my best friend, and then you just quit calling.” You don’t think you’d let the hurt sink in until that moment, heard it catch in your vocal chords. You stared at the ceiling, a blur of white plaster and amber beams.

“I thought you didn’t want me to,” his voice was just as small as yours.

You shrugged, didn’t let the wobble in your jaw deter you. “We had fights before, bigger than this one. I figured we’d get over it.”

“You told me you didn’t want to marry me.”

You propped yourself on your elbows to face him. “Steve, come on. You weren’t serious. You didn’t want to marry me, not really. You were just at that stage in your life where you thought that’s what was supposed to happen.”

He rolled his eyes, shook his head, pulling his hand from yours to run through his damp hair. Flecks of water marked your skin. “Will you quit saying that? Quit invalidating my feelings like that. I didn’t just want to settle down out of convenience. That’s always bugged the shit out of me.” He snapped.

You barked a laugh, wry. “Okay, you had feelings for me. I get that. You know I love you too, but you can’t just spring a marriage proposal on a girl because she’s naked in your hotel bed. You didn’t even have a ring.”

Steve stared back at you for a long moment, and something in his eyes excited you. You hadn’t sparred in ages, hadn’t talked your genuine feelings out with your best friend in four years.

“Fuck it,” he said and stood from his seat beside you to cross to his opened suitcase, everything neatly folded and tucked inside. “If I show you this, you have to promise me you won’t say a word until I’m done talking. Alright?” He held something behind his back and pointed a finger your direction. “Not a God damn word.”

You rolled your eyes but held three fingers his direction and pretended to zip your lips. Then you caught a little black box he tossed at you. Your heart began to thunder in your chest, fingers trembling around velvet. You blinked at it a few times before looking back at him.

Steve was stone faced, if not a little pale, and his arms were crossed over his chest like he was waiting for you to say something. When you didn’t, he took a step forward, and then back, shifting weight on the balls of his feet. Then, he gestured to the box in your hand, a curse spilling from his lips. “I bought it the second day,” he said, “in Louisville.”

You couldn’t move, breath short, hands a vice grip on the box in your lap, terrified to look at it.

“We had that first night, the one you mentioned with dinner at that cantina, and we took that long walk past all those big houses, and I felt like I was holding my breath all day. And I can hold my breath for a long time, I’m a damn good swimmer. But sometimes with you, it feels like I’m drowning.”

You could remember every second of that night, had thought about it a thousand times, compared every date to it, hell every happy moment.

“And I think I just realized I couldn’t tread water with you anymore. Sink or swim, Harrington,” he groaned, scrubbing his hand down a freshly shaven face. “So the next day, while you were at your conference, I went to a jewelry store and bought that.”

Once again, your attention was drawn to the tiny box in your hands, and although your curiosity was piqued, you were still too terrified to open it.

“I chickened out pretty much the entire weekend. I think I just didn’t want to ruin the fun, and then on that last morning, I panicked. I freaked the fuck out because we were going home, and I didn’t want to be away from you anymore. So I said what I said, and we fought, and I kicked myself the whole way home.”

You were glad you’d promised not to speak, glad you’d zipped your lips, because you didn’t think you had words anyway. Too many thoughts and emotions and memories zooming through your headspace like speedboats, leaving casualties in their wake.

“I’m sorry I didn’t go to Argyle’s wedding,” his voice was soft, and his arms found their spot across his chest once more. “I know I promised you I’d go, but I think dancing with you at someone else’s wedding felt like a twisted joke.”

You swallowed, nodded.

“Please don’t think I brought it here because I thought I could win you back, or whatever,” he hurried as an afterthought. “I honestly wasn’t sure what would happen this week. I was shitting myself that I’d somehow make everything worse, which maybe I have.”

You shook your head.

“I just keep it in my suitcase,” he gestured to the box again. “I don’t care what you do with it now. Hock it, pawn it, chuck it into the lake. You know, do what you want with it because it’s yours. It always has been.”

You watched as he crossed to you, taking a slow and awkward seat beside you, just beyond your reach.

“That it,” he sighed, shoulders slumped. “That’s my piece, I guess. You can talk now. Or not, if you don’t want. No pressure. At all, about any of this,” he glanced around the room. “If you want to go back to the way things were, I totally understand. I meant it when I said I just wanted a truce for this week. We agreed you reserve the right to live your own life.”

“No,” you croaked. You cleared your throat and shook your head. “I don’t want that. I mean, I want you in my life.”

The corners of his lips turned up at that, and he let out a sigh of relief. “Good. Me too.”

“This is all just…” You clasped the box until your knuckles whitened, just to stop the trembling. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“Oh yeah, totally,” Steve stood from next to you. “I’ll give you a few minutes, or you know, whatever you need. I uh… I actually think I need some air.” He thumbed to the door.

You stood on shaky legs, nodding. “Yeah, me too. Water, I think, might be good.”

“Totally,” he held the door open for you, and the two of you walked side-by-side to the top of the stairs. The floor groaned beneath your feet.

“Come find me later?” His voice was soft, warm, forehead creased with concern.

You smiled, nodded, and watched as his lanky frame retreat down the staircase and out the front door.

—

A batch of cookies baked in the oven, caramelized brown sugar and butter permeated the air. Three other cookie sheets sat prepped at the ready on the countertop nearby. You’d washed and dried your mixing bowls and measuring cups and hung the apron on its hook inside the pantry door. Your glass of lemonade lay untouched, glinting in the afternoon sunlight.

The small black box rolled in your pruned fingertips, and you glanced around the kitchen for any signs of onlookers before cracking open the seal, hinge groaning, for a peak at what rested within the pink satin lining.

You nearly dropped it, throwing your hand to your lips to contain the gasp that rattled when you saw the perfect diamond in its fitting on the perfect, most delicate little band. It was everything you would have wanted, subtle and sleek and sweet. You wondered if you had mentioned the details, mumbled into Steve’s chest after a night out, senses liquored and secrets spilled.

Or maybe he just knew you, better than anyone else could.

You glanced around the empty house once more before risking to pull it out of its casing and slide it over the summer-swollen knuckles of the ring finger on your left hand. It was the perfect fit, sparkling in honeyed sunlight, casting rainbows against the cabinets and countertops.

“Smells amazing in here, dudette,” Argyle entered the small kitchen.

“Thanks,” you choked a laugh, shoving your hands behind your back to greet him. “How’s dinner coming?”

“Good, good,” he bobbed his head, long hair swishing against a broad chest. He sidled up to the counter opposite you. “Came here to check on you though. It’s our last day. It’s not the same without you.”

“I know,” you smiled, waving at the cookies with your right hand. “Let me finish these up, and I’ll be right out.”

“Sure,” he saw right through you, a grin forming beneath his mustache, a glint in his eye. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I’m here for you.”

The honesty there cut deep. You nodded, wondered how much he knew, felt guilty for not telling him more, or for taking too much vacation time with your petty drama.

“Can I tell you a story about me and Eden?” His eyes lit up when he spoke of her, a big grin formed across soft features.

You nodded again, toyed with the ring around your finger behind your back. “Please.”

He scratched an itch at his mustache, and you saw him twist his own ring around his finger, gold, outdated, oversized. “Remember that day in the military tent? When we were all waiting for orders, and Steve pulled you in so we could explain what the Hell was going on?”

You swallowed. You’d never forget that day, though you were grateful you thought about it less and less as time went on.

“Sorry to bring it up,” Argyle nodded, held a hand up in apology. “I only do because I remember it more vividly than any of those days. I mean, I was high for a lot of everything before, and everything after felt like one big firefight. But I remember that day specifically because you lost your mom and Steve brought you into that tent, and he just held you.”

The emotion that had been rising all day started to spill, a causeway that rolled warm down your cheeks, and you were frantic to stop the flow, trying to push back those awful memories, the flashes of orange and camo, Steve’s strong arms wrapped around your collapsing body, knees gave way. You nodded to encourage Argyle to keep going, to reassure you were okay.

He reached a hand out anyway, pulled you into the cushion of his shoulder, rubbed at your arm. “We were all so young and so dumb, and I just wanted to go home.”

You sniffled and hugged around his middle because you understood.

“Not home to Lenora, but home to this girl I met a week earlier with brown hair and brown eyes because the moment I saw her, I knew I’d do anything for her. I wanted her to hold me the way Steve held you.”

Home, this place you’d always had in Steve Harrington, a place you always would.

“That’s the day I realized she was my one-and-only.” He always waxed so poetic about his wife, and until this moment you’d always rolled your eyes with fondness for the man. Until this moment, you never really understood. “Are you picking up what I’m laying down?”

You nodded, laughed wetly. “I think so.”

The wrap of knuckles against the doorframe grabbed your attention, and you looked up to find Eddie. His hair was frizzy from air dry, and he looked impossibly lanky in a black tank top and red shorts, and the handsome smile from his face fell when he saw the tears in your eyes. “Everything okay in here?”

Your heart sank.

“All good, my dude, just talking to her about my beautiful wife,” Argyle gave you one more tight squeeze before releasing you to stand at his full height. He gave you a wink before pushing past Eddie to head back outside to be with the rest of your friends.

The two of you stood in silence for a few minutes, the breeze trailing in to float his air from his eyes. You weren’t sure how to start, what you could say to make it right, but you didn’t have to.

Eddie let out a whistle, long and low, and crossed the room to meet you. “I always knew Harrington had good taste.” Before you realized you were fidgeting with your ring, he took your hand into his, holding it up to catch the light like you had done earlier.

You swallowed, watching the subtle hurt etched between his brows. Eddie Munson, heart on his sleeve. You whispered his name.

He shrugged, dimples poking through his goatee, and shook his hair from his eyes. “I’m a big boy. I can handle it. I just want you both happy.” He ducked his head then, inches from yours. “Are you happy?”

You thought to all of the friends that had held you throughout this week, throughout the past twelve years, throughout your life, and you nodded, fighting back the new tears that threatened to spill.

Eddie caught them with the calloused pad of his thumb, a chuckle rumbling low in his chest. “I’m never going to stop loving you.”

“I know,” you laughed, closing your eyes as he pressed soft lips to your forehead.

“You know? Wow. A bit full of yourself, sweetheart,” he teased, and you swatted at him. He dodged your aim and grabbed you by the waist to pull you into a bone-crushing hug, jaw pressed to your temple.

“I love you too,” you whispered into his neck, cigarette and spice and sunscreen.

“Have you told him yet?”

You froze, shook your head.

The egg timer went off, shrill and loud, and in that exact moment, under the honeyed glow of the late afternoon summer sun, with the room smelling of your mom’s chocolate chip cookies, you felt like she was sending you a sign.

Your hands shook, and you mopped at the tears in your eyes and pointed at the oven. “Can you take those out?” You asked Eddie, breathless, heart thundering in your chest.

His lips split into that Cheshire grin, and he waved you off. “Go get him, sweetheart.”

The rubber of your soles squeaked against every wooden step on your way down. The patio was empty, sounds of splashes and crackled firewood and laughter could be heard from the shore, and when you rounded the little tin roof beach hut, you saw your friends, your family, roasting kababs and drinking beer and smiling. Nancy and Robin shared a log to sit on, while the boys stood around the grill with hands in their pockets, breeze ruffling their shirts. The smell of ash and smoke and meats rose to your nostrils, something that just felt like another sign.

Steve was the closest to you, his back turned, broad shoulders in navy blue, running his hand through his hair. You hit sand and called his name, and he turned to face you with a squinted gaze, hand up to see your approaching figure.

You closed the gap in four strides, dragging him down by the collar to press your lips to his, the final rule broken.

A sound of surprise turned low when the realization hit, and you felt his hands snake around your waist and hips, lifting you on the balls of your feet to kiss him deeper. Your hands found his hair, one of his cupped your cheek, and all at once you felt at home. Once lost at sea, now you’d found your mooring.

You breathed a laugh that mirrored his, the tip of his nose pressed to your cheek, and it wasn’t until the ringing in your ears stopped that you noticed the ruckus of friends around you.

“Is that a diamond ring!?” Robin screeched somewhere behind Steve.

You sucked back a smile and pulled your hand from Steve’s hair to admire the ring on your finger. Steve looked back at you glassy eyed, mouth open to speak without words. You shrugged, smiled, allowed the diamond to sparkle in the sunlight.

“Yeah, I guess it - ” You were cut-off when Steve planted another kiss on you, lifting you into his arms.

—

The windows had been closed for the night, pale yellow curtains no longer flowing in the breeze. Your hair smelled of campfire, and your eyelids grew heavy from an eventful day. You were full of kabobs and Mom’s chocolate chip cookies, and you squished onto the tiny couch between Steve and Robin, who were flicking each other inches above your head.

“You’re both children,” you snorted, swatting their hands away as they began to flick you instead.

“Wheeler, are you crying?” Eddie’s voice turned all of your attention quickly to Nancy, who sat between Jonathan’s legs, mopping at the tops of her freckled cheeks.

“No, fuck off, Munson,” she scoffed.

You scrambled to sit upright, leaning across the coffee table to take her hand in your own. Jonathan gripped you both. “What’s up?” You bit back a smile, seeing Nancy’s eyes roll in annoyance at being the center of attention for something she’d rather keep private.

“I just never thought we’d be here.” She sighed.

“Yeah, Kurtis was really generous leaving his house with a bunch of assholes like us,” Robin agreed.

“Shut up,” Nancy groaned when you all laughed. “I just meant… after all this time, I’m really glad I still have you guys.”

“Can’t get rid of us that easy, Nance,” Steve grinned, swinging an arm over your shoulder. You leaned into him with a sigh.

“It’s true, dude. We’re like parasites,” Argyle piped in, mouth full of cookie.

You tried not to let her words seep in, tried desperately to tread water, to fight back the current of emotions that prickled when you realized you didn’t know the next time you’d all be together like this. Robin was off to France. Nancy and Jonathan had their own adventures, baby in tow. Argyle lived across the country.

You met Eddie’s gaze, warm browns and Cheshire smile. “Besides, we’ll all be together again soon. I heard there’s going to be a wedding in Hawkins.”

You cocked a brow, ready to retort, but Steve beat you to the punch.

“Hard to plan a wedding in a place we don’t live.”

---

A/N: This fic was definitely a labor of love for me. I actually had this planned before I wrote My Whole Life, Too. And I have so many other details of their lives and pasts that I'd love to dive back into. Thank you so so so much for reading xo xo

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#better off fic #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fic #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #steve harrington fluff #eddie munson angst #steve harrington angst #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #robin buckley #jancy #argyle #eden bingham

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a-sparrows-melody · 26 days ago

Note

Hello 👋,

I hope this message finds you well. My name is Aziz, and I’m reaching out with a heartfelt plea to help my family find safety and reunite with our mother. 😞

The ongoing war in Gaza has torn my family apart. My mother and newborn sister are stranded in Egypt, while I, along with the rest of my sex family members, am trapped in the midst of the genocide in Gaza. We have not only been separated but have also lost our home and are enduring unimaginable hardships. 💔

Your support can make a difference. Whether by reading our story, donating, or sharing our campaign with others, you can help us reunite, find safety, and start anew. 🙏🕊

Thank you, from the depths of my heart, for your kindness, compassion, and solidarity during this difficult time. ❤🍉

https://gofund.me/58268669 🔗

I am sorry, I cannot help you as I myself am a minor. I am posting this in hopes that someone else will.

#free gaza #gaza #israel palestine conflict #save palestine #byler #drarry #jancy #demon slayer #x reader

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strangerthings-writer · 9 months ago

Text

Welcome To My Page!

• My name is Eddie, and I’m a 20 y/o trans man who just likes to write little fanfictions… and I’m an english major!

• This is a place for Stranger Things fans to come and submit drabble and one-shot requests of their favourite characters and/or ships that they want fan fiction of!

• This page has NSFW writings, so please keep that in mind when browsing this page!

• MASTERLIST

• Request Application

What will I write?

• I write both NSFW and SFW drabbles and one-shots

• I do “x readers” and ships

• I write fluff, sometimes angst, romance (ofc)… just ask!

• I write for MxM, WxW, MxW, t4t… anything you desire

• I can interpret your headcanons into my writings! If you headcanon Steve as a trans girl? Perfect! I can write that. Just let me know in your ask!

What won’t I write?

• Any ships that involve a minor with an adult

• Major character death (just uncomfortable to write for me) or extreme angst

• I will not write for kinks that are considered too extreme or gross (kinks I won’t write for are: scat, vomit, raceplay, ageplay, anything illegal). If you’re not sure if I’ll write for something send me a dm and ask me and I’ll let you know :) *I always content warning NSFW works*

What characters/ships do I write for?

• characters marked with * are characters I do NOT write NSFW for

Mike Wheeler*

Dustin Henderson*

Lucas Sinclair*

Max Mayfield*

Steve Harrington

Nancy Wheeler

Jonathan Beyers

Billy Hargrove

Eddie Munson

Chrissy Cunningham

Robin Buckley

Gareth*

Argyle

• ships marked with * are ships I do NOT write NSFW for

Stancy (Steve x Nancy)

Stommy (Steve x Tommy)

Jancy (Jonathan x Nancy)

Ronance (Nancy x Robin)

Buckingham (Robin x Chrissy)

Jargyle (Jonathan x Argyle)

Steddie (Steve x Eddie)

Harringrove (Steve x Billy)

Mungrove (Eddie x Billy)

Hellcheer (Eddie x Chrissy)

Calicheer (Chrissy x Billy)

Lumax (Lucas x Max)*

Byler (Will x Mike)*

Henclair (Dustin x Lucas)*

More to add soon…

text divider credit goes to cafekitsune

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myownau · 2 years ago

Text

Alone Tonight

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

18+ MDNI

Summary: Your best friend is getting married tonight.You should be happy for him, and you are but… you’re also kind of in love with him.Luckily you meet someone at the wedding just as love lorn as you are.Maybe you won’t really have to be alone tonight.

Word Count: 9914

Warnings: strong language, terribly written smut, size kink, suit kink?, breeding kink, daddy king, angst, fluff, strong language, canon upside down, unprotected p in v, use of y/n, lots of nicknames, reader called a whore at one point, that’s all I think???

A/N: hello 😅 this is the first fic I’ve written in around 10 years, so please go easy on me. I’ve also never ever ever written smut before. I’m a little insecure about posting this because I’ve been silently admiring all of the incredibly written fics on here and y’all are such amazing writers!! So anywayyy, I’ve also posted it on AO3 as well, I’ll add a link at the end if you’re interested in reading there. Thank you for reading!

You don’t know why you’re here. Who convinced you this was a good idea? Oh right, it was Will. You could never say no to that kid. Jonathan being your best friend at college, and you having no contact with your family anymore, it made sense that you’d follow him home for every holiday. Just like that, Will was the little brother you never had and always wanted. Jane was like a little sister to you as well, but you were closer with Will.

This, however, was even harder than you thought it would be. You loved him. Jonathan that is. Obviously, he was your best friend. But it was more than that. You were IN love with him. Of course, you’d never tell him that. You’d never hurt Nancy like that.

She’d come to be a good friend of yours too. Picking you and Jonathan up from the airport, taking you out on girls nights when Jonathan wanted alone time with his family, trying to be your wingman when guys would look your way at the bar. She was just a beautiful person, inside and out. You could see why Jonathan loved her. And when he asked her to marry him on the Hemlock Cliffs in Hoosier National Forest, you were there to take the pictures. Memories set to film forever.

Your heart ached in these moments, but they were the only family you had and you loved them too much to run away. So even though you tried to make excuses to get out of going, you were here, sitting on a white bench 4 rows back at their beautiful outdoor wedding. Because Will convinced you it was the right thing to do. That kid. He was too intuitive for his own good. You could tell he knew how you felt about his brother, but you also knew he’d never spill your secret. Just like you’d never spill his.

——

The vows were made. The bride was kissed. The cake was cut, and you were glued to your seat in the reception hall. The majority of guests were either eating dessert and mingling, or busting a move on the dance floor. Including Will who was timidly dancing near Mike and Jane after you all but forced him to leave your side.

But you, you were looking around the room, trying to find any sort of distraction to keep you from thinking too hard. Your eyes had welled up several times in the night but you refused to let them spill. There was no point. And you were happy for them really, it was weird. You were mourning your love but you were happy that two people you cared about were living their fairytale.

As your eyes danced across the dark room you noticed someone. Standing alone in a dark corner of the room, drink in hand. He was taking large gulps and staring at the dance floor like it kicked his puppy.

Sad man? At a wedding? Sounds like good company. You grabbed your camera, putting the strap around your neck and walked over to him. The closer you got the more you could actually see his features and, oh goodness, you were fucked. He was gorgeous. Long, thick, unruly brown hair. The manliest square jaw you’d ever seen, smooth like he just shaved. Tall, and thin but you could tell there was muscle under his suit. And you didn’t notice until you were right up on him but he was covered in the most beautiful freckles with a light splattering of moles. Your heart jumped when he looked up at you.

“Hi” you said smiling, offering your hand to him “I’m y/n”

He put his drink down on the nearest table, then took your hand and shook it “Steve” he replied.

“Steve,” your smile only grew “You look like a Steve” there was no point not flirting. He was pretty and you were sad. And he looked sad too. Why not be sad together?

“What does a Steve look like?”

“Like you” you laughed, knowing it was the most obvious and dumbest answer. You thought you’d probably heard it somewhere before but you didn’t much care.

“Good one” he smirked, picking his drink back up and staring at the dance floor again. You thought, he was probably trying to dismiss you, wanting to wallow alone, but you weren’t having it.

“So, who are you here for? The bride or the groom?”

“Technically?” He cleared his throat “I guess both? We went to high school together. All of us. But really I’d say, I’m here for Nance.”

His eyes shot to the floor, jaw clenched, adams apple bobbing lightly. “You know her better?”

“We uh, we used to date actually.” He admitted, finishing off his drink and placing the cup back on the table.

Bingo. You could see it, in his mannerisms, in his eyes. He still loved her. “You still love her.”

His eyes shot up to your face. He looked worried all of the sudden, he looked like you just told him his nana died and you were the one who killed her. “No” he whispered “no I don’t.”

“Yeah…” he was down bad. But so were you. “You do. But that’s okay” you put your hands up in a defensive position “I won’t tell anyone I promise” you mimed locking your lips and throwing away the key.

He cleared his throat again “thank you.” And as if realizing you weren't going anywhere, he finally turned fully towards you. He brushed his hair back out of his eyes and looked you up and down. “So who are you here for then?”

“Both, technically” you repeated his words back to him, smirking when he caught on “but really I’m here for Jonathan.”

He looked at you and waited for what he thought you might say, seeing the look in your eye that he felt in his heart.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure” you could barely hear him over the music.

“I’m in love with him.” Your eyes welled up again but you pushed them back as best you could, taking a deep breath “so. You’re not alone.” You smiled softly at him. He smiled back, just as soft. Grabbing your hand and squeezing for just a short moment before letting go. He was warm. You wished he would have held on a little longer.

“How did you meet Jon?”

“We go to college together.” You looked around the reception hall, finding Jonathan happily holding Nancy close as they swayed to the music “although I wonder if he’ll go back now that he’s married.”

“I’m sure he will. Nance is a stickler for education. Even if it’s, camera education.”

You laughed at his description of your college degree “You know I’m also getting a camera education?”

“No kidding, is that why you have a camera around your neck?”

“Yes! Actually it is! Wow, you are observant! Pretty and smart. We’ve got ourselves a double threat!”

He giggled along with you, biting his bottle lip. “So why aren’t you taking pictures? You’ve got the camera…”

“Well, I didn’t want to work the event, since they’re my friends and all. But I always want to be ready in case I see something inspiring.”

“Inspiring eh? So you don’t take pictures of like, models?”

“Why? Are you offering to be my model?”

“No no” he huffed a laugh “definitely not.”

“I mean you are very beautiful, come on let me take some pictures of you pretty boy.” You giggle putting the camera in front of your eye and flashing him with the flasher attachment “Pose for me.”

Steve throws his hand up in front of his face and tries to push the camera away as it flashes in his eyes “Stop that,” he laughs. You put the camera down leaning with your hand on his shoulder as you laugh with him “See, now you’ve wasted all that perfectly good film on pictures of my hand.”

“Nah, it was just the electronic flasher, no actual photos were taken, although now I kinda regret it because you do have very nice hands.” You wink at him. He looks down at his shoes, blushing and trying hard not to smile. You give him a gentle nudge with your shoulder “Come on Steve. You’re allowed to have fun. Even if the love of your life just happens to marrying someone else.”

Steve looks up at you, face solemn as he remembers the reason he’s here tonight. Lost in the moment with you for the last few minutes. “Yeah, you’re right” the corner of his lip tips upward and you count that as a win.

“I know I’m coming off a bit… aggressive. Or I don’t know. Optimistic? But I’m honestly feeling pretty fucked up too.” You look down, your smile gone, a serious expression taking over. “And I know it’s not the same, because Jonathan and I never dated. But I feel like, unrequited love might be on the same level of painful. Different. But it still hurts.” You take a shuddering breath and try to smile again. “So I say screw that. No more sorrow for what will never be. Let’s live and be in the moment. What do you say big guy?”

His face lights up, he looks at the ceiling as if in disbelief that you’re real. His fingers reach out towards yours, just tickling finger tips. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

“Yes!” You fist pump the air, a little dramatic but you just want to make him smile. You take the camera strap off from around your neck and grab his hand, pulling him to the dance floor.

He follows behind you, hand in hand, a little hesitantly “I’m not a very good dancer.”

“First of all” you turn towards him, grabbing both his hands and putting them on your waist. “I don’t believe you.” He laughs at that, shaking his head. “And second of all, you’re lucky because I’m a FANTASTIC dancer.” A total lie but he’ll find that out soon enough.

He hesitantly places his hands on your hips, and with the same hesitation you put your hands on his shoulders. You sway, full arms length apart like you’re at a middle school dance. Laughing at how stiff his arms are on your waist “How old are you Steve?”

“I’m 22” he says, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Then hold me like a man” you step up closer to him, knee almost slipping between his legs. Your hands leave his shoulders, slipping down to his broad chest.

He sharply inhales, looking around the room like he’s looking for a chaperone to swoop in and scold him. But like a good boy, he wraps his arms more tightly around you, gripping the back of your dress tightly before letting go again. Tapping your back with his hands nervously before laying them flat. “Is that uh, is that, that better?”

You’re looking up at him from your much much closer position and humming in approval “yeah” you whisper. The truth is, it’s too good. Your hands are pressed into his chest and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart. From this close you can smell him. His soap and his expensive cologne. You want to rub your nose into his neck but you don’t know him well enough for that yet. You’re rocking with him to the music. Feeling the rhythm of the beat as you make slow circles.

You slide your hands up his chest and push them into the hair at the nape his neck. He looks down into your eyes, he looks a little dazed and you feel it too. Like the air is thicker than it was before and you’re sneaking glances at his lips. His perfect lips, with the most attractive cupids bow. You can see the gears turning in his head as he looks at you. “What’re you thinking about” you break the silence.

He takes a deep breath, letting out slowly through his nose. “I’m thinking that, I don’t want to be alone tonight.” He whispers, loud enough to be heard by you and only you “I’m thinking that you are so incredibly beautiful” you watch his adams apple bob again, like it’s hard for him to say these things, “I’m thinking that you were sent to me on one of the hardest days of my life so far, by my guardian angel” he gently presses his nose to your nose, rubbing against you with the softest of motions “and I’m thinking that I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your breath stops short in your lungs. Hearing all the things that you were thinking too. “You won’t hurt me.” You whisper against his slightly parted lips “I don’t want to be alone either.”

You push up on the balls of your feet, closing that small distance between your faces and pressing your lips to his tender kiss. You pull back just slightly, let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. A jolt of arousal shooting straight to your core. Looking up at him, you can see the heat in his eyes too.

Using the hair you’re still holding onto on the back of his neck, you pull him back to your lips for a searing kiss, pushing past his lips to feel his tongue on yours. And before you can even comprehend what’s happening you see a flash to your left. You both break apart and jump back. When your eyes readjust from the flash you see the actual hired photographer smiling at you with a thumbs up.

Your jaw dropped and you look over at Steve who is just as stunned. When you realize your rendezvous born of mutual pain has been captured on film and will be immortalized in the photo album of both your unrequited loves wedding album, you can’t help but laugh. Doubling over and grabbing for Steve’s arm to keep you from falling. Steve covers his face with his hand, smoothing it through his hair again, and laughing like he just got in on the joke.

You're clutching your stomach, cheeks hurting from smiling. “Come on,” you say, lowering your hand and intertwining your fingers with his. “Let’s get out of here.” You’re once again pulling him behind you, but this time it’s out the door, only taking a brief detour to pick up your camera from the table.

“My place or yours?” He asks.

“Your place, I don’t live here remember?” You smile up at him.

“Oh right” he looks around the parking lot “so I’m guessing you don’t have a car either?”

“Nope.”

“Okay good. We won’t have to come back for it then in the morning.” He gives you a wicked grin before grabbing you by the hips and pulling you in for an intense kiss. It’s all tongues and teeth and you can’t help the moan that escapes the back of your throat. You can feel all of him pressed up against you, but it’s not enough.

Without a word he’s picking you up, you squeal but wrap your legs around his waist like you’ve done it a million times. Your mid thigh dress rides up, leaving your clothed core vulnerable against his fancy dress shirt. “I knew there were muscles under that suit.” Your words are more breathy than intended. “I can’t wait to see them.” He groans at your words and walks as quickly as he can to his car with you wrapped around his waist.

“Can’t say things like that right now or I’ll fuck you in the back of my car instead of on my California king.”

“Ooo I knew you were a rich boy,” you chuckle “I could tell when I smelled that fancy cologne on you.”

“Oh yeah?” he said finally reaching his bmw. He placed you back down and opened the door for you “just wanted to go home with a rich guy, huh?”

“Mm no, I wanted to go home with a handsome, funny, strong guy. Rich is just a bonus.”

He smirked closing your door and walking around to get in on his side. Once he sat and turned the car on, he looked over at you again with a serious expression “well that’s good. Because I’m not rich. I live in a one bedroom apartment, in a tiny town, and Im the manager at the Family Video. My parents, they are rich. And they’re kind of the awful. So sometimes, they try to buy my love with weird random expensive gifts. But me? I’m nowhere close that. I’m a loser. Thats why I knew I’d never be good enough for Nancy. Why she didn’t pick me.”

You look at him from the passenger seat. Deep frown on your face. “You’re not a loser.”

“You don’t even know me” he whispered, huffing a humorless laugh without looking at you.

“I know enough.” You get up on your knees in your seat, reaching out to him with your right hand. You place it on cheek and pull his face to look at you. “I haven’t known you for very long, but I know you’re not a loser. A loser wouldn’t have been so kind to someone calling them out for pining for the bride at her wedding.” You looked between his eyes “a loser would’ve decked her for being so forward and like kind of rude.”

“You weren’t rude,” the side of his lip quirked “you were just being real.”

You smoothed your thumb on his jaw and licked your lips. “I’m so tempted to just, crawl into your lap right now and prove to you what a fucking winner you are.”

He surged forward, driven by your words, kissing you deeply. You moaned openly into his mouth, pressing your thighs together. Chasing any kind of friction you could get as your arousal built.

You didn’t want to pull away but you were also getting pretty desperate for him, and you really didn’t want to fuck in a car at the reception of your best friends wedding. “How far do you live from here?”

“Like five minutes”

“Oh that’s the best news I’ve heard all night, let’s go.” You sat back down properly in your seat, trying hard not to look at the growing bulge in Steve’s pants.

—-

Steve opens the door to his apartment, hands shaking slightly as he hangs his keys on the hook by the door. Both of you take your shoes off and leave them on the rug by the door. He looks over at you as if waiting for your approval.

Your eyes are taking everything in. It’s small but clean. And it feels like home. The ambiance is warm. Small lamps on side tables by his worn leather couch. Plants in pots scattered around the room and hanging by the windows. Framed photos placed lovingly around the room. You walked in, smile on your face as you walked over to the nearest photo. It looked like a family photo but it was just a bunch of teenagers.

Steve walked up behind you, placing one hand on your hip and the other he used to point out each person “Thats Lucas, Max, and Dustin.” He looked at your side profile “and I think you know the rest of them.

“Nancy” you pointed “Jonathan, Will, Mike and Jane. But I don’t recognize this guy. He is really handsome though, could you introduce m-“ he cut you off with a quick kiss to the neck and you squealed and giggled as he grabbed you with both arms. He held you close from behind and you melted in his arms.

“Yeah I’ll introduce you.” He leaned in again, smoothing the hair off your neck before coming in to nip at you. You breathed out a low hum.

“Well where is he? I’m ready to meet this guy.” You pushed you ass into his ever growing erection and he hissed at the contact.

He let go of your waist and grabbed your hand. “Come on, he’s right through here.”

—-

The moment the door closed he was on you. Pushing you up against the door and attacking your mouth like he would die if he didn’t get his tongue on yours. You pulled him by his belt loops, craving more contact. He growled into your mouth, grinding his clothed cock against you. “Fuck,” you moaned into his mouth. He pulled back to look at you, eyes black with lust “I haven’t been this worked up in,” you took a second to think but your thoughts were too muddled with thoughts of getting Steve naked “Years.” You whispered up at him.

“Me either” he shook his head, reaching down between you and loosely gripping the bottom of your dress. You nod at him in approval and he pulls it over your head. “Fuck” he moans looking down at your bare chest and cunt.

“The uh” you cough, a little embarrassed “the dress fabric wouldve, uh wouldve showed my panty lines and well I mean, the straps are just these little strings so obviously I couldn’t wear a bra either” you can’t stop rambling. And he’s listening, like actually listening.

“You’re really fucking cute.” His fingers trace up your side, you’re shuddering under such light touch. “And so hot. Like so hot. I don’t know how I got so lucky” he emphasizes the last word with a pinch to your nipple. You mewl grabbing his arm to keep you on your feet. “Bed” he orders kissing you once and pulling you over.

You walk over to the side of the bed and sit, fully exposed as he stands in front of you. You open you legs for him to stand between them. He’s still fully clothed. “Take this off, I want to see you.” You help him push the suit jacket off his shoulders, and get to work unbuttoning his shirt. “I may or may not have a suit kink” you mumble looking at the toned expanse of his stomach. Reaching out to touch the moles that have come into view. You want to kiss each one you find, but that would take too long. You bite your lip hard at the sight of his chest hair. Running your hands up his chest to run your fingers through it.

“Oh yeah?” He chuckles “so you want me to keep this on for you?”

“No, no” you lean forward and bite the softness of his tummy right under his belly button. “Maybe just the pants for now.”

He starts pulling of his shirt, seeming a little unsure. You’re not sure why until he pulls it off fully, determination written all over his face. Large white and light pink scars decorate his sides. They’re not ugly but you can tell he’s a little self conscious about them. You reach up with both hands trickling your fingers slowly down his sides. Looking up at him with your face pressed against his stomach “You are stunning.”

The air shifts again, thick with anticipation and arousal. He grabs you by the hips and pushes you further up onto the bed, crawling over you and settling himself between your legs.

He grinds down on you experimentally, his suit pants rough fabric rubbing against your clit and the moan that escapes you is almost pornagraphic. You’ve been worked up for what feels like hours now and this was the first bit of real friction you’ve gotten. Your pussy clenches hard around nothing. Your moan only encouraging him to continue as you kisses you hard. He starts working kisses and bites down you throat and chest. Leaving little purple marks along the way.

Cupping your breasts in his big hands, he looks you dead in the eye as he sucks the right one into his mouth. Your hips buck up into him unintentionally when he nips at the nub. Gasping into the air. Your hands fly to his hair pulling just a little too hard but he moans and pushes himself down into the mattress, searching for friction. Mm he must have liked that.

He looks like a lust filled mess. Hair in every direction, lips wet and swollen. You pull him back up to you by the hair. Biting his lip and pulling. “You like it rough huh?”

“Mm yeah” you’re writhing beneath him.

He pins your arms above your head, continuing to grind his clothed clock against your bare pussy.

“Mm you want me big boy?” You breathe. Steve stops for a second. Looking at you with this look in his eyes. This look like he’s known you, like hes been in love with you for years and you don’t know what to do with that. It feels almost to intimate. Too beautiful. Like you’re not about to have a one night stand to forget about the wedding. Like you’re about to make slow, passionate love.

He leans down, nuzzling his nose into yours and whispers “when you say stuff like that” he presses the softest kiss to your lips “you remind me of someone. Someone I used to know.”

Your brows furrow, you’re a little lost. “Oh?” Your chest is still heaving, heart rate excellerating as you start to worry.

“Yeah. A really good friend. It’s a good thing, I promise.” He smiles as he starts to trail kisses down your neck. Biting when he gets to your pulse point. You whimper against him and he kisses the spot, hot and sloppy. “He was outgoing and funny and sweet, like you. And he’d use those same type of nicknames. Always truly himself.”

His hips are meeting yours in a gentle rhythm and you’re starting mewl with every thrust. Wanting to cry out for the ache in your empty hole. “He sounds like a great guy.” You pull your hands out from Steve’s grip and go straight to unbutton his pants. The dress pants are soaked with your arousal.

“He was.” Steve smiles down at you. You stop trying to pop his button when says that. It becoming clear that this friend is no longer wandering this earth. Your chest grows tight. He’s kissing you again but your hearts not in it. Until he’s biting your lip and pulling it. He lets go and smiles with his teeth biting at his bottom lip “I told you. My guardian angel brought you to me.”

A tear escapes your eye before you even realize you were about to cry. Steve wiped it away with his big beautiful hand and rubs it down your cheek, looking at you with such adoration. You’ve never been looked at this way. Granted you haven't really dated much but you just met this guy tonight and it’s hard to understand this undeniable connection you have with him. “Steve,” you whisper, barely audible over your heartbeat “I need you.”

“I’m here” he starts trailing kiss down your chest and you know he’s about to go down on you but your past the point of waiting.

“No, I need you right now.” He stops his ministrations and looks up at you unsure. “I need you to fuck me, right now.”

“Fuck, okay” he sits up and climbs off the bed unbuttoning and kicking of his pants and boxer briefs in one go. The first look at his cock leaves you breathless.

“Oh shit” you breathe out quickly, “never wear those pants to bed again, hiding that monster is a tragedy.”

Steve looks dumbfounded but breaks into a laugh “what happened to your suit kink?”

“I take it back. I take it back so fast, fuck. Never wear a suit again. Only ever be naked, here. With me.”

“So you like what you see?” His grin is so wide and so beautiful.

His member bounces of its own accord slapping against his belly button as he crawls back up the bed and over you again. “I’m obsessed.” You know you’re stroking his ego but you don’t care “I’d call animal control on the beast but I don’t want to loose my opportunity here.”

“What are you even saying?” He’s smiling so hard you swear you’re discovering his dimple for the first time.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry I was just so taken off guard when you whipped out that 2 liter like it was the most normal thing in the world to have a cock bigger than my forearm. Fuck me.” You giggle against his lips. He kisses you deeply. Getting lost in the feeling of his mouth.

“I plan to,” he whispers “condom?”

“I’m clean. And on birth control.”

He hums into your mouth, “good. Me too. And I want to feel all of this.” He reaches down between your bodies and grabs himself, lining his fat head with your hole. “Are you ready me?”

“Well shit I hope so. I might need surgery in the morning but I want you to destroy my pussy.”

He groans at your words, cursing under his breath as he pushes past your barrier. You both let out a load moan. Finally feeling each other the way you’ve been dying to since you kissed on the dance floor.

He’s slowly pushing into you inch by inch and by now you’re thinking you might regret not letting him go down on you, but when he hits the special spot inside of you… you change your mind. You arch you back groaning. Your fingernails digging into his shoulders. He’s not even all the way in but you’re gushing around his thick length. “You okay?” He asks, concern filling his eyes.

You nod quickly “more, ah, more than okay. Please don’t stop.”

He presses his forehead to yours when he bottoms out. You feel so full. More full than you ever thought was even possible. Every bit of your cunt feels the pressure of his cock and the pleasure of it is causing your legs to tremble already. He kisses you once, gently. Just a peck. Rubbing his nose against yours and then tucking his head into your neck. “You’re so fucking tight.” He grunts.

Your eyes are filled with tears of pleasure and they start to spill as you laugh a little, “I feel like, I feel like anyone would feel tight to you with this mighty hog.”

He huffs a laugh into your neck, biting at your pressure point. He hums in agreement “Maybe. But I’m not fucking anyone.” He pulls out a little bit and thrust back into you hard and fast pulling a noise from you you’ve never heard before. “I’m. fucking. You.” He thrusts between each word and you forget everything you’ve ever said. As he starts to set a rhythm you completely forget your name, who you are, where you came from. All you can think about is your impending orgasm. All you can hear are the moans escaping both your mouths and the slapping of his balls against your slick covered ass.

Steve pushes up, holding himself with both arms as he looks down, watching himself fuck into you. “Look at that” he says smoothing his hand over your lower torso.

You pick your head up to watch and you're not expecting what you see. “Oh my..” you gasp “I didn’t know that was possible.” You see his tip poking up from inside you. The sight of it brings a deep heat to your core and you’re starting to feel the cord tighten. You drop your head back down to the soft duvet as he continues thrusting into you.

“I wonder if I just..” he starts to say but stops and presses his palm against your lower stomach, essentially pushing the head of his cock further into your vaginal wall and holds it there. You can’t help it, it feels unbelievably good and you scream. You scream so loud you can’t believe the sound came from you and you cum on the spot. The edges of your vision go white and you think you’re going to pass out. Electricity rushing through every part of you body. It takes you a second to recover and remember what was happening. When you do you look up and see Steve red faced and sweaty and looking far too sexy. “Fuuuck” he groans thrusting into you harder. “Oh shit you’re gripping me so tight I don’t think I can l-last much longer.”

It feels so good, the sensitivity is almost overwhelming but you don’t care for him to stop. You want him to cum inside you. You don’t realize until this moment but you NEED to be filled by him. “Mm yeah Daddy you gunna cum?” You whimper. He cursed under his breath and moves his arms under your knees, folding you in half as he pushes into you with unrelenting force. You keep talking, his thrust breaking up your words and making it hard to understand, but he does “Gunna fill up my aching pussy with your cum? Put a fucking baby in me and make everyone jealous that I got your fat cock all to myself.” He moans louder, fucking into you faster but his hips start to falter and you know he’s getting close. “You like that? You like when I call you Daddy? Thinking about your cum dripping out of me? Wanna cum inside my pussy and go back to the wedding with it dripping down my legs?” And that’s what does it. He cums hard, pushing deep inside of you and thrusting once, twice more.

He collapses on top of you. Completely spent. And you smile against his hair. Wrapping your arms around him, petting his hair and caressing his back. “You really do want kids don’t you, big boy?”

He laughs against your chest “what gave me away?”

“Well, could be all the photos of all the kids around your apartment and you saying you're not close to your parents. So that tells me your family is one you made. And usually people with made families like big families of their own.” You hug him closer to your chest. “But more than that, your dick twitched when I called you Daddy. And twitched even harder when I told you to put a baby in me.” You giggled, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Mm” he leaned up on his elbows, releasing the pressure of you holding all his body weight. “You’ve got me all figured out, huh? All that just from one look around my place and sex?”

“Psychology is a prerequisite. See, we do more than take pictures at camera college.” You bite you lip, looking up at him as he hovers over you, his soft cock still resting in your bruised cunt.

He kisses you so gently, he kisses you like this isn't a one night stand. Like you’ve been in love for years and he can’t get enough of you. It should scare you, but it doesn’t. You feel more relaxed and open than you have in years. Since before you even met Jon.

After a few minutes of this, Steve leans back and sighs heavily. Removing himself from your center. You feel his cum start to spill out of you, but he uses two fingers to stuff it back into you. He really does have a breeding kink, you think. You hum in satisfaction, “you want me to put my legs up on the headboard? Make sure these swimmers have a chance?”

He smirks at you, a little sadness in his eyes as he gets off the bed to get dressed. “Don’t tease me now.” He opens his dresser and throws you a pair of boxer briefs. “Put these on, I’m not ready for my swimmers to drip down your legs yet.” He smiles recalling your dirty talk. “This too. Although I’ll be sad to cover up so gorgeous tits.”

“Whatever you say, Daddy” you slip on the underwear, biting your lip. You throw on the yellow sweater he hands you just as quickly.

“I could get used to that.” He thinks for a moment. Leaning against his dresser in just his underwear. “You look really good in my clothes.”

“Well,” you say, playing with the loose threads at the end of his sweater, “you look really good, out of your clothes.”

He snorts, “should’ve seen that coming.”

You’re both quiet for a beat. It’s comfortable. Still reveling in your activities. Until, Steve clears his throat. “So, uh, y/n. Where uh, do you live?”

“Everywhere, nowhere. Santa Barbra, California is where Brooks Institute is though. So I guess that’s where I live for now. Did Jonathan never tell you about where he went to school?”

“Nah, we’re really not that close.”

“Oh.”

“California. That’s really far.” He looks down at his feet.

“Yeah,” your voice comes out a little sadder than you were expecting, you inhale deeply “yeah, it is. But, I’m only one semester away from graduation actually. So. Who knows after that. I could go anywhere.” You look up at him suddenly feeling shy. “Could go to New York, or Florida, or I don’t know… Indiana.”

“Yeah?” Steve smiles up at you.

“Yeah! I mean why not?” You get up off the bed and stand in front of him, leaning back to sit on the end of the bed before him. “I mean. I know a little something about found family. I’m not close to my real family. The Byers-Hopper clan welcomed me with open arms and they’ve been my family since the moment we met. So my only family is… here.”

Steve nods like he understands. Watching you with glossy doe eyes.

“Plus, there’s this really handsome guy I met at a wedding in Indiana. And I mean, I’ve only known him for like, a few hours but he’s really cool and he really helped me in a tough time in my life. And he’s like really good in bed, although he doesn’t really have to try. I mean you should see this guys dongle. It’s HU-“ Steve cuts off you rant when shoves his mouth onto yours, smiling and laughing against your lips. “Oh my gosh stop” you say pushing him away and laughing “you’re going to ruin my chances with the guy from the wedding!”

He grabs your arms and kisses you again, but this time you let him. Falling easily into the kiss. His lips are so soft and you try to commit the feeling and taste to memory. “You are,” he huffs “unbelievable.”

“Yeah” you put your palm on his cheek, pushing some hair behind his ear. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“You might change your mind after I wake you up in the middle of the night with my loud, obnoxious snoring.” He nuzzles into the hand on his face, kissing your palm.

“Mm, so you wanna wake me up in the middle of night?”

He laughs, backing up to lean on the dresser again. “You really do just hear what you want don’t you?”

You put your finger on your cheek like you’re thinking about it really hard, “mmm… yes. I guess I do.” The light in the room is low and warm and as you're admiring the soft look on Steve’s face, the lean muscle of his chest and arms, you can’t help but want to take a picture. “Hey, I know you said you didn’t want to be my model…”

“Oh geez” he smirks, shaking his head.

“Hear me out, hear me out. You look incredible in this lighting. I want to immortalize this night. Can I? Even if it’s just for us. Never to see the light of day or the inside of my working portfolio” you snicker, “you just look too good, I can’t pass this moment up.”

He licks his lips, and nods “Okay, okay sure.”

You get up from the end of the bed and stand in front of him, leaning up on your tippy toes and grabbing his chin with your index finger and thumb, “Don’t move” you whisper into his parted lips, kissing him as you go to leave the room.

You pick up your camera from where you dumped it on the leather couch. You probably should have laid it down with more care, but you didn’t much care in the heat of the moment.

You give it a quick once over, seeing that everything’s fine. Thankfully. You throw the strap over your head and start walking back to the bedroom. When you look up, you notice a photo on the bookshelf against the wall by his bedroom door. You hadn’t noticed it before, being so preoccupied by Steve’s mouth. The picture is a blown up yearbook photo of young man with long curly hair complete with bangs. He has, quite frankly, a dazzling smile. You wonder who this is, having not seen him in the group photo by the door. But that’s a question for later. Right now it’s time for you to take someone else’s photo.

You take one last look at the picture and head back into the bedroom. Steve is still exactly where you asked him to stay. “Good boy.” You whisper in his ear, nipping at his lobe. He grunts his approval as you jump up onto the bed.

“So, uh, what do you want me to do? Like do you want me to pose or something?” He looks nervous.

“No baby I want you to stay exactly as you are, but you’re all cramped up and nervous looking now” you chuckle “loosen up handsome. I want that post-coital glow back.”

“Post coital glow?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Yeah! Where you’re all hopped up on endorphins and just blissed out and lose.”

“How do I do that when I know you’re about to take a picture of me?”

You pull the strap of the camera off of your neck and drop it on the bed. “You want me to come over there and loosen you back up?” You slide off the bed again, walking over to him.

He still looks nervous “how’re you going to do that?”

You place your fingertips gently on his toned stomach, slowly trickling down down down. Goosebumps are popping up all down his tummy and arms. His breath becoming uneven. Your left hand drags down his thigh and right hand lightly grips at his half chubbed cock. You look him in the eye as you grip him a little harder in your hand, “are you still nervous now?”

His forehead comes to lean on yours, “no” he whispers on your lips.

You kiss him gently, stroking him halfheartedly. “What do you feel right now?”

“I’m feeling,” his breath stutters from his chest, “like I want to bend you over and fuck you into my mattress.”

“Mmm good, keep that feeling” you peck him on the cheek and run back to the bed. You jump up on it, sitting on your knees and grabbing your camera. “Oh yes. Yes. This is perfect, keep that fucked out expression.”

“I thought you wanted post-coital glow.”

“Yeah, we can take more like that later, but right now I’m loving this look. It’s like you want to eat me alive and I love it.”

A small moan slips from his lips, “I do”

You take a series of photos. Full body, just his face, just his body. His hands death gripping the dresser he’s leaned against. His predatory eyes. His juicy wet lips. The fucking monster bulge that’s growing wildly in the his boxers briefs… that one is just for you. Definitely. You want that one framed and hung in your closet. The more photos you take the harder it is to focus, you feel yourself becoming more wet as the seconds pass. “You are… unbearably attractive.” you whine.

“Please tell me you’re done because I don’t think I can stand here another second while you're straddling my bed in my clothes.”

“Oh fuck me, okay yes yes I’m done.” You take the camera off and gingerly place it on the side table. “Come take me, pretty boy.”

That’s all he needs to hear and he’s pouncing. “I need to taste you baby, please let Daddy eat you out this time.”

You’re nodding so hard you’re getting dizzy. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

He groans deep in his throat, “it’s going to be a long night.”

—-

The next morning you wake up to an empty bed, the smell of bacon and coffee filling the space. You look over at the clock on the side table and groan. It’s 11am already and you never told Joyce or Hopper or anyone you were leaving or where you were going or that you wouldn’t be going home that night. They’re probably worried sick thinking you wandered off drunk and fell in a ditch somewhere.

You stretch your arms and back as best you can on the bed. Throwing the covers off, you slide off the bed. Immediately noting your cunt throbbing. It was a long night. And you did tell Steve you wanted him to destroy your pussy. He did his job, and he did it well. 10/10, 5 stars, Excellency Award, Employee of the month.

You walk sluggishly out into the main area, seeing Steve in front of the stove, dish towel thrown over his shoulder. Now that you’re in the open space you hear the quiet kitchen radio playing ABBA. Steve moves his hips to the sound, singing along slightly out of tune “gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight…” he still hasn’t noticed you as he slips a piece of bacon into his mouth and continues to hum the song. It’s so domestic it almost hurts.

You slide up beside him and he smiles when he notices you, bringing you into his side for a half hug while he has to focus on not burning the rest of the bacon. “Good morning, beautiful” he says after a moment. He turns off the burner and kisses the top of your head.

“Good morning handsome” you smile up at him. “Anything I can help with?”

“Nope, I’ve just finished up. How do you take your coffee?”

“Cream, 6 sugars” you cover your face with your hand.

“6… 6 sugars?” He looks baffled but prepares your coffee anyway. “Sugar fiend.”

“Coffees like, kinda gross without it. I just ugh, I just love sweet things” you’re smiling so hard your cheeks start to hurt.

“You are ridiculous.”

“Yeah… but you like it” you poke him in the side.

“I really do actually.” He’s looking at you in that way again. The way that makes you feel like you’re in love and have been for a century. You’re starting to crave that look. It’s like you’ve been starved all this time and never knew until he fed you. “Here’s your coffee, now go sit on the couch and I’ll bring you your breakfast.”

“Thank you” you take the coffee in one hand, and pull him in for a soft peck with the other hand. “Oh wait, can I use your phone? I don’t want Hopper sending out a manhunt thinking I’ve gone missing.”

“Oh no you’re good, Will called earlier. Said he figured you’d be here since everyone saw us leaving together.” He looks up at you through his messy hair, “guess we were pretty obvious” he blushes.

“I’m not mad about it” your cheeks feel hot but you cover it by sipping your warm coffee. “Okay, good. As long as they know I’m alive.”

You walk around the island to the living room and set the cup of coffee on the coffee table. But you don’t sit right away. Instead you’re drawn again to the bookshelf with the yearbook photo.

You’re still analyzing it when Steve walks in with your plates. He sets them down by your coffee and joins you by the bookshelf. He wraps his arms around your waist and sets his chin on your shoulder. “That’s the friend I was telling you about” he whispers “his name is Eddie.”

“He was incredibly beautiful.” You whisper just as low.

“Yeah” he chuckles, but there’s no joy in it “Inside and out.”

You clear your throat, starting to get choked up “H-how did he umm” you swallow hard “how did he die?”

He sighs, pulling you harder into his chest. “It’s a long story for another time, but he was a hero. And he saved my life. He saved a lot of people’s lives.”

You turn around in his arms, gently caressing his sides “is that how you got these?”

He presses his face into your hair, you can tell he’s getting emotional thinking about it. “Sort of. What caused these scars, is what killed him. It’s a lot to explain. And maybe I will one day. But it’s too much for now.”

Tears silently roll down your face, “you were in love with him too, huh?”

He looks you in the eyes, choking on a wet laugh “How do you do that?”

You look down, away from his wondrous gaze. “I don’t know, I guess I can just read people really well.” You shrug.

He pulls your chin up with two fingers and gives you a sloppy wet, teary kiss. He pulls back and looks you in the eye again, searching. “I didn’t know him that long. But yeah, I think that, given the chance, I would have loved him.”

You nod, brow furrowing. “I’m so sorry you didn’t get that chance.”

He presses his palm to your face, thumb smoothing over your cheek. “So, it doesn’t scare you? That I… that I could’ve loved a man?”

You huff a laugh, brows raising “Not at all. We can’t help who we love.” You press your palms to his hairy chest, fingers gripping loosely at the hair there. “I think you and I both know that. Hints our night together.”

He licks his lip, shaking his head, “Guardian. Fucking. Angel.”

“What?” You laugh.

“You were definitely sent to me, by a guardian angel.” He kisses you on the tip of your nose and you can’t help but to smile at that “or shit. Maybe Eddie sent you to me himself.”

You look back over your shoulder at the photo on the shelf. You can almost feel him winking at you. A chill runs down your spine. “Yeah” you look back at Steve “I definitely think it was him.”

“What, are you communicating with him now?”

“Yeah” your expression goes very serious “he told me to call you sweetheart.”

All the blood drains from Steve’s face, he goes stiff and his face looks as if he’s seen a ghost.

“Oh no way, did he call you sweetheart?? I was just guessing because you said he called you all these little nicknames I kept using.”

“That-that was a joke?” He mumbled “you were so spot on I…”

“Oh shit Steve I’m so sorry. It was just a joke, oh man what an insane guess.”

“Don’t do that again” he pushes his hand through his messy hair.

“Yes sir.”

“Fuck, I’m all frazzled now.”

You grab him by the arm and pull him to sit on the couch, “come on then, let’s eat breakfast. I’ve got a lot of questions to ask about you.”

“Oh no,” he rubs his hand over his face.

“Oh yes, I want to know everything about you mystery man. Because so far as I can tell, Nancy messed up letting you go.”

He pulls you into his chest, running his fingers through your hair. “ I could say the same. Jonathan has no idea what he missed out on. But honestly, I’m really glad he did though. Because I’m selfish as hell and I want you all to myself.”

—-

Four months later

“Hello, Steve Harrington speaking.” Steve answers the phone the same way every time. And it gives you butterflies every time.

“Hello Steve Harrington. This is y/f/n y/l/n speaking” you giggle.

“I was hoping it’d be you.”

“Who else would it be? Who else calls you? Is it other girls? Are you seeing other girls behind my back Mr. Harrington?”

He laughs hard, covering the mouth piece so he doesn’t blow out your eardrum “Hundreds of girls, calling out at all hours. I can’t sleep with all the ladies I’m drowning in.”

“Okay, see I was joking. But I fully believe it when you say that because you a massive co-“

“Yes yes alright” he sniffs “to what do I owe the pleasure of todays call Ms y/l/n ?”

“Well, I want to first thank you again for allowing me to use that photo I took of you in your bedroom for my senior art show.”

“You are welcome baby girl. If it wasn’t so artfully taken, by such a beautiful woman, I never would have agreed.”

You smile broadly into the receiver “Mmhm yes yes, well, you’ll never believe this, big boy.”

“Yeah, I’m listening.”

“That photo won 5 local awards, an offer to be hung at an exhibit in San Francisco and I was offered a book deal. They want me to create a book of my photography Stevie. Me.” You’re practically buzzing.

“Holy shit. HOLY SHIT. Y/n. I’m so proud of you. We’ve got to celebrate!”

“Thank you baby. I’m so happy I could fly. And it’s all thanks to you.”

“No way, I definitely can’t take the credit here. It was all you and your incredible eye. I’m just grateful I could be your muse.”

“And you will continue to be my muse… that is, if you still want me to move to Indiana.”

“I would love nothing more. Please say you will and that you’re coming soon.”

“How does 2 weeks sound?”

“Not soon enough”

“Thank goodness,” you sigh in relief, “because I’m actually here now.”

“What?!” Steve almost drops the phone, adrenaline rushing through his veins.

“Yeah” you take a deep breath, your chest is tight with emotion “I wanted to surprise you. I just got here, and I couldn’t wait. I literally just walked in the door not 10 minutes ago.”

“Where? Where are you? I’m coming right now.” Steve looks around the room, searching for his pants and grabbing his keys off the hook by the door, phone precariously pressed between his ear and shoulder.

“I’m at the Byers-Hopper residence, my new home. I’m staying in their basement until I can get on my own feet.”

“I’ve never been happier to live in such a small town. I’m leaving now sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”

“I can’t wait.”

—-

3 years later

Byers-Hopper Residence

Nancy and Jonathan walk in, hand in hand and you’re genuinely so happy to see them. You greet them at the door hugging each of them “hey! So good to see you! I’m so glad you could make it.” You tell them, grabbing Nancy’s hand and squeezing it.

“Wouldn’t miss it” Jonathan said, patting your shoulder.

“Well get on in there and mingle! Steve’s out back at the grill. There’s beer in the cooler and chips on the table.”

“Oh beer sounds amazing right now. It’s such a hot day.” Nancy says fanning herself.

“A scorcher.” You wink at her.

—-

Once everyone’s arrived you make your way to the back yard, beelining straight for Steve. He’s wearing his classic kiss the cook apron and you don’t mind if you do.

“Hello handsome” you push up on your toes and kiss his cheek.

“Hello my love,” he turns to you fully and presses his hand to your swollen tummy, “and hello to you too my little love.”

7 months along and you’re still not over how sweet it is when Steve addresses your baby bump. You pull his chin to you, kissing him gently. “I love you, you know that?”

He breaths a laugh “I’d hope so. Wouldn’t want to be married to someone who didn’t love me.”

You bite your lip, “yeah well. I just like to remind you.”

“I love you too, baby.” He kisses you again. So soft and sweet. You just can’t believe how lucky you are.

“Alright lovebirds, enough mackin, let’s eat!” Hopper calls from the fold out table surrounded by the family you’ve made. And unfortunately, Steve’s terrible parents.

—-

“I was just so shocked when I heard you were already pregnant, I mean you’d barely been married a year.” Steve’s moms voice is shrill.

“Oh yeah” you put on your best fake laugh, “I wasn’t surprised at all. Your son has a breeding kink. He’s wanted me fat and pregnant since… well probably since we met.”

She stares at you, mouth agape, obviously in shock.

“And I mean, have you seen your son's penis? Sure like when he was a kid I’m sure but did you know it was going to get so big?”

She blinks at you and tries to stutter a response.

“That thing is massive. I didn’t stand a chance with that semi trunk pounding into me. I think he actually just like, came straight into my uterus once. Like busted right past my cervix and came right on my eggs. I’m honestly surprised I didn’t get pregnant sooner.”

She put her hand on her terrible husband's arm, “Let’s go. I can’t stand to be here any longer. Your son married a whore.”

“A whore?” You mock outrage, “I’m only a whore for your son, which is allowed, hints the ring.” You point at it, wiggling your left fingers to watch the ring sparkle in the dimming sunlight.

Steve just smiles and waves “Bye mom and dad! We’ll let you know when our bundle of joy arrives.”

“Great thanks.” His dad shoots back, exiting through the front door.

“Well” Hopper huffs, “that was horrific. But you’re not my biological children so I think the trauma of hearing that will affect me a little less than your parents Steve.”

“Sorry Hop. You weren’t supposed to hear that.” You can’t help but laugh.

“Well then you probably shouldn’t have said it so loud” Will comments.

“Alright fiiine, I won’t speak publicly about my amazing, insane, adventurous, mind blowing sex life in public anymore.” Everyone groans at the excessive adjectives, Steve again just laughing silently, only ever encouraging you. “But when you all stop getting boners, or your sex lives get boring, don’t come running to me for stories tips or tricks. And definitely don’t look at my photo album.”

“We won’t, trust me.” Mike rolls his eyes.

“Hey Mike, did I see you sne-“ you start.

“Hey hey y/n what uh, have you come up with any baby names yet?” Mike cuts you off, finishing with a nervous cough.

You look at Will's frozen expression and wink at him. “We have. Go ahead baby, I’m ready to announce it if you are.”

Steve pulls you close, one hand around you, the other sitting on your belly. “We’ve decided to name him Eddie.” He kisses your hair.

Eddie Harrington. You know it’s cliche to name your baby after someone like this, but the man saved your husband's life. And his family. And the town. And after you’d heard the full story of what happened to them all, you knew you didn’t have any other choice. Steve’s hero, his almost love, his guardian angel. Yeah, you know it's the right choice.

Edward William Harrington. You can’t wait to meet him.

#jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #pro jancy #steve harrington #steve x reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #eddie munson #eddie stranger things

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wrayofmoonshine · 2 years ago

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Alright stranger things fans, I’m curious

#polls #stranger things #stranger things s4 #stranger thing s5 #stranger things season 5 speculation #steddie #byler #lumax #mileven #ronance #jancy #stonathan #stobin #<- platonic obviously #stancy #<- 🤢#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader

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strangerthingsreversebigbang · 1 year ago

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Round One, Side B polls are all live today! Check out our profile to vote for each bracket.

Tell us why in the reblogs/replies!

#stranger things #stranger things reverse big bang #strbb #strbb sign up brackets #Eddie Munson #Steddie #Hellcheer #Mungrove #Harringroveson #Eddie x reader #Nancy Wheeler #Jancy #Stancy #Ronance #Stoncy #Bancy

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roxymorondraws · 2 years ago

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Ship Stats Week 1 (4/1/23-4/7/23)

I’m keeping track for the month April for the top 10 ship tags and a few others. Will be posting every Friday

#Ship Stats #Hellcheer #Steddie #harringrove #Byler #Mileven #ronance #lumax #jancy #jopper #Eddie x Reader #Stancy #stranger things

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skyfallslayer · 8 months ago

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Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter Two

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: On the night of November 6th, 1983, Stephanie Henderson decided to walk her little brother’s friend, Will, back home. However… they never arrive. Now, Dustin, Mike and Lucas, and soon the exception of the girl’s ex-best friend, Steve, must band together to find out what happened. Meanwhile, Steph and Will must fight for their survival in this nightmarish version of Hawkins, Indiana.

🎲Chapter Summary: Lucas, Mike and Dustin try to talk to the girl they found in the woods; And Hopper questions an anxious Joyce about an unsettling phone call; Steph and Will must continue to survive; And Steve’s eyes get opened in a way he never saw coming.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 11,024 (Oh, my lord)

🎲Date: 5/16/24

🎲Warnings: Angst; Swearing; Implied Broken Friendship; Talks of Kidnapping; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Implying Sex; Lying; Implied Suicide; Death/Killing; Talks of Corpses; Blood; Gun Use; Steve's 'Asshole Era. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: Jesus. This was a tough one to write and edit (Hopefully I didn't make too many mistakes). But, geez. Writing different POVs, everyone's thought was a tough one. But hopefully y'all can understand 😅. Also, I am NOT a D&D player, so some of lore just comes straight from the wiki. Hopefully that's reliable enough. Anyway, sorry for the delay. Enjoy!

|| THE NIGHT BEFORE ||

“What the fuck are you?!” Will heard her scream as the creature tried to outmatch her. The light above them grew brighter and brighter, and he squeezed his eyes shut while gripping her jacket tighter. He prayed this was just another nightmare. Maybe… Maybe he’s getting his wish when he hears the silence. Does he dare open his eyes and see the truth?

He’s scared, trembling, and it heightens when he hears the girl heaving for air. So much so he clenches his grip on the fabric tighter, the strange smelling air going through his nostrils causing him to gasp himself. When his eyes snapped open is when his coughing fit started.

He hears his name being called, and hands coming around his shoulders. He almost jerks away, afraid, until his orbs settle on the silhouette before him.

“S-Steph?” He croaked, a sense of relief flooding his veins. “What just happened?” He could see the confusion on her face, looking around for clues. He followed her eyes, nose crinkling at the sight. “We’re still in the shed. But it’s… gross.”

She swallows. “Stay behind me.” She tells him, and guides herself through the door. They both shivered at the sudden drop in temperature. “Jesus, It’s freezing.”

Will and her looked around, the outside world seemed to be encased in a blue hue, the places around seemed to be tangled with vines and covered in something sticky. There was also a white powder that looked like snow, raining down from the dark skies above. A sky that didn’t even have moonlight like it did a few minutes ago.

“Did you hit your head when we crashed?” She asked after getting his attention away from the sky.

He shakes his head, almost sadly. If that had both just hit their heads, would the situation have been better? He frowns, worriedly thinking away as the older girl tries to stay calm.

“Come on.” She says, gesturing to him to follow. “Let’s go inside. I want to see something.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT ||

The rain was coming down more intensely than before, followed by the grumbling of thunder and lightning. Somehow, miraculously, the boys, mostly Wheeler, managed to convince the strange girl they found in the woods to return home with them, and hid her in the basement.

“Is there a number we can call for your parents?” Mike asked, worriedly as the girl looked between the three boys, all scared and confused.

“Where’s your hair? Do you have cancer?” Dustin spitted out, genuinely curious.

“Did you run away?” Lucas asked, skeptical.

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Mike says, just as his friend questions a red sustain on her shirt. He slaps his hand away quickly. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She’s freaking me out!”

“I bet she’s deaf.” Dustin suggested, before taking a quick half step and smacking his hands together. The sound makes the girl flinch, and he frowns apologetically. “Not deaf.”

“That’s enough, all right? She’s just scared and cold.” Mike said, silencing the two before running over to the laundry basket and grabbing some clothes. “Here, these are clean. Okay?”

The girl takes them, taking a second to be grateful before she starts stripping– The boys freak out, Mike running up to stop her while the other two look away.

“See over there?” He points. “Th-That’s the bathroom. Privacy. Get it?” She nods and he shows her inside. Just when he was about to shut it behind him, she grabs it forcibly. “You don’t want it closed?”

“No.” She finally says, surprising him.

“Oh, so you can speak. Okay, well… Um, how about we just keep the door…” He slowly moves it until there’s about three inches of space. “Just like this. Is that better?”

“Yes.”

Mike smiles and leaves her be, rejoining the group who were having a conversation of their own.

“This is mental.” Dustin said, freaking out.

“At least she can talk.” Mike points out, with Lucas shaking his head, replying,

“She said ‘no’ and ‘yes’. Your three-year-old sister says more.”

“She tried to get naked.” Dustin adds.

“There’s something seriously wrong with her.” Lucas said, touching his temple. “Like, wrong in the head.”

“She just went like…” The Henderson boy makes a motion of taking off shirt (and even knocked his own hat off his head).

“I bet she escaped from Pennhurst.”

“From where?” Mike said, eyebrow raised.

“The nuthouse in Kerley County.”

“You got a lot of family there?” Dustin teased, getting a dirty look.

“Bite me. Seriously though, think about it. That would explain her shaved hair and why she’s so crazy.”

“Why she went like…” He does the shirt motion again. In his mind this was helping him and Lucas’ case.

“‘She’s an escapee’ is the point. She’s probably a psycho.”

“Like Michael Myers.”

“Exactly! We should’ve never brought her here.”

“So you just wanted to leave her out in that storm?” Mike asks, irritated.

“Yes! We went out to find Will–”

“And Phanie.” Dustin pressures.

“And Steph – not another problem!” Lucas agrees.

“I think we should tell your mom.”

“I second that.”

Mike holds his hand up. “Who’s crazy now?”

“How is that crazy?” Lucas scoffed.

“‘Cause, we weren’t supposed to be out tonight, remember?”

“So?”

“So if I tell my mom and she tells your mom and your mom–”

Dustin’s eyes widened. “Oh, man.”

“Our houses become Alcatraz.” Lucas frowns.

“Exactly. We’ll never find Will, or Steph.” Mike says, seeing Dustin make the shirt motion once more, silently asking the question about the girl. “All right, here’s the plan. She sleeps here tonight.”

Henderson perked up again. “You’re letting a girl–”

“Just listen! In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear. And tomorrow night, we go back out. And this time, we find Will and Stephanie.”

Lucas and Dustin share a look, until one of them finally shrugged. “I guess that works.”

“Great. We’ll start again tomorrow. Goodnight, guys.” Mike bid them as he went off to start making the mysterious girl a place to rest.

“This is crazy, man.” Lucas said, once they had snuck back out. “What the hell is Mike even thinking?”

“I don’t know. Do you think his plan will really work?” Dustin asked, as they headed over to where their bikes were hidden.

“I’m giving it less than a fifty percent chance of success.” He sighs. “I better get home.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Hey, don’t look so sad.” He pats his curly haired friend on the back. “We’ll find them.”

“I just want my sister back. You have no idea.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

In the following morning, in the Byers house, the eldest seemingly was keeping it together, making the morning meal like he always does and hoping his worrying mother would have just a bite.

“All right, Mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan said, while placing the plate down in front of her, her thoughts being interrupted.

“What?” His mother said, before moving some papers. “No, be careful of the poster.”

“Yeah, okay. All right–”

“I can’t eat.”

“I just need you to eat, Mom.”

“Listen, listen. The Xerox place opens in, like…” She looks down at her watch. “30 minutes–”

“Mom–”

“And I don’t want you to go alone–”

“No, I know. I told you, I got it.”

“So I’m gonna have Karen take you, ‘cause I should be here.” She gestures around, all jittery. “Claudia will meet you there, b-but if she’s not, she’ll reimburse us for the copies of Stephanie, I–”

He shakes his head with understanding. “Okay.”

“We need to make, what, 200, 300 copies?” He nods again. “How much is a copy?”

“Mom?”

“Ten cents?”

“Mom?”

“If we– ten cents”

“Mom, Mom!” Jonathan stops her from counting the cash she had laid out, and squeezes her shoulder with her other hang to calm her. “Y-You can’t get like this, okay?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Joyce replies, taking a shaky inhale of nicotine.

“No, it’s okay.” He reassures her softly, just before someone comes knocking on their door. The mother rushed over with her son on her tail, busting the door wide open for the exhausted police officer.

“We’ve been waiting six hours.”

“I know, I came as soon as I could.” Hopper replies, nearly dead on his feet.

“Six hours.”

“A little bit of trust here, all right?” He slides his hat off. “We’ve been searching all night, went all the way to Cartersville.”

“And?”

“Nothing.”

Joyce made a choking sound and looked away. “God…”

Hopper frowns, sadly. “Flo says you got a phone call?”

“Oh, yeah.” Joyce nods and shows him their phone.

He picks it, examining the speaker part of it which was charded black. “Storm barbecued this pretty good.”

She took a step back in surprise. “The storm?”

Hopper looked at her like she had two heads. “What else?”

“You’re saying that that’s not weird?”

“No, it’s weird.”

“Can we, like, trace who made the call? Contact the–”

“No, it doesn’t work like that.” He shakes his head, and then looks at her with all seriousness. “Now, uh, you’re sure it was Will? Because Flo said you just heard some breathing.”

“No. It was him, it was Will... and h-he was scared. And then something–”

“It was probably just a prank call. It was somebody trying to scare you.”

“Who would do that?” Joyce questioned, face full of confusion and sickness.

“Well, this thing’s been on TV. It brings out all the crazies, you know. False leads, prank calls, uh–”

“No, Hopper, it was not a prank. It was him.”

“Joyce.” He begins, as she denies him again

“Come on, how about a little trust here?” She laughs dryly. “What, you think I’m– I’m making this up?”

“I’m not saying that you’re making it up.” Hopper looks at her with concern again. “All I’m saying is it’s an emotional time for you.”

“And you think I don’t know my own son’s breathing?”

“Joyce–”

“Hopper, my son’s missing. A-And not only that, someone else’s daughter is missing.” She nervously takes a puff of her cigarette. “And you know what the mess up part about that is? Stephanie didn’t have to! She didn’t have to be the sweetheart she is and take my son home. She could have just drove past him, but she didn’t! She didn’t, Hop. And now I have to live with the thought that I made someone else’s kid go missing because I. Was. Working!”

She ends with an emotional sigh, tightening the heavy tension it the room. Jonathan worriedly looking at his mother before, locking eyes with the police chief who was trying to find the right words to say.

“You hear from, uh, Lonnie yet?” Hopper asked after the small silence.

“No.”

“It’s been long enough.” He puts his hat back on. “I’m having him checked out.”

“Oh, come on!” She sighs loudly, watching him leave. “You’re wasting your time.” Then the door shuts, and rubs her temple. “Jesus. He never listens!”

Jonathan ponders for a moment, before asking, “Mom, how likely is it that Will would actually go to Lonnie’s?”

“I…” Joyce runs a hand through her messy locks. “It’s possible, but he lives a long, long way. Especially on foot. But… I don’t– maybe he would! I…” She sighs again, overwhelmed. “However, I don’t think he would have gone with Stephanie. He’s… W-Will knows your father’s not the best man, and Will, you know, has that heart of gold.”

That got a chuckle out of both of them. “Yeah.”

“I don’t think Will would have risked Stephanie like that.” She shakes her head. “No. She’s an older kid, and older sister. As much as this sounds messed up, she would have done anything to make sure Will was safe. I know it. So… my question is…” She locks eyes with her son. “What would a girl her age think is a safe place for a young boy?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| TWO NIGHTS AGO ||

Stephanie flipped the lightswitch on in the kitchen out of curiosity, but finds herself still submerged in darkness. “Just what I thought. There’s no light.” She says with a frown.

“The flash of light we saw–” Will looks up at her. “Do you think it was a power outage?”

“I don’t think there’s light here, I mean-” She starts walking around, rubbing her shaking hands together. “Look at this place. I don’t think we’re in Hawkins anymore.” She shivers just a smidge. “At least it’s a little warmer inside here.” Then she hears a distressful sound. “Will?”

The boy was pale, pupils blown wide and had a small tremble. “W-What do you m-mean we’re not in Hawkins anymore?” He asked, lip quivering with a slight pant. “B-But th-this looks like my house. D-Did w-we get taken somewhere else? Can we even g-go home? I–”

“Shit… Will–” She rushes over, hands coming up to his shoulders while she gets on one knee. “Will? Hey, bud, listen– hey.” She makes sure his gaze meets hers. “Don’t freak out. I know it’s scary, but we’re going to figure this out. Once we do, I’m going to get us home, I promise.”

The boy sniffles into his shoulder, fighting back tears. “You promise?”

“I promise.” She says it without realizing the fate of those words.

He swallows and extends out a certain finger. “Pinky promise?”

Her breath was nearly taken away by that certain question, taking her far back into a distant memory. But… like hell she’s going to let that memory change her judgment. She interlocks hers with his and repeats, “Pinky promise.”

That got him to crack a smile. “So, what next?” He asks, making her rack her brain for a plan.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT DAY ||

He woke up again to his cat’s crying. The young Henderson frowns, heart clenching at how Mews was wondering where his sister was at. For the urban legend of how cats had no emotions, he’s certainly not seeing it. He rubbed his eyes and wandered aimlessly around, the thought of calling sick into school was still fresh in his mind. Should he? I mean it made sense, and it wasn’t like the school won’t understand, so….

Was that a yes?

He walked through the hallway, curls in his eyes as slows in front of his sister’s bedroom. His cat locked eyes with him, sadness and confusion filled the slitted pupils. Mews meows again.

“She’s not back yet.” Dustin says, getting a chirp. “We’re trying. She’ll be back soon.” He starts walking away, hearing him make a sad sound once more.

“Dusty-bun, I’m going to make some posters.” Claudia said, who were gathering her belongings by the door. “I left you breakfast on the stove.”

His nervous fingers gripped his t-shirt as he tried not to sound so down. “Hey, Mom?” Her eyes meet his gaze. “Is it okay if I… stay home today?”

Claudia’s face softens bittersweetly. “Of course you can, sweety. If you leave the house for whatever reason, just leave me a note where you’re going, that’s all I ask.” She gives him a kiss on his hairline, and is one foot out the door before adding, “Oh! And be back before dark. Okay? Your Mama doesn’t need to worry about another kid.”

“Can do.”

He watches her smile and closes the door, locking it. He frowns at that action, I mean they’ve never locked their door before, and now it was becoming second nature. He was even surprised she told him he could leave the house. Or… did she not expect him to leave this place in the state he’s in? Sounds like something she would do.

He sighs and heads for the kitchen to make himself a plate. He didn’t have much of an appetite, really, but he didn’t want to hurt his mother’s feelings or make her beg for him to eat – he didn’t want to call ‘pot kettle black’ since he was the one that had to convince his mourning mother to eat last night. But it was hard, his fork just picking at the food, cutting it into smaller pieces to stare at before dropping his utensil onto the plate.

Steph… His fingers dug into his pocket and pulled the gold chain out, letting it sprawl out in his palm. He stares at it intensely, thinking. Come on, Sis, give me a sign. What happened to you and Will? What caused you to go off road and run? Run with Will’s shotgun out of all things?

What had got her so scared that they needed a weapon to protect themselves? Both her and Will were the last two people that would resort in violence, so the fact that they decided to arm themselves with a weapon tells him that something sinister was up.

But what? Dustin lays the necklace down next to him, pretending that she was here to eat with him like she always does, before deciding it was time to munch on what was left on his plate.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hopper struggles to keep his mind clear after that conversation with Joyce. His thought always going back to this particular moment:

““Stephanie didn’t have to! She didn’t have to be the sweetheart she is and take my son home. She could have just drove past him, but she didn’t! She didn’t, Hop. And now I have to live with the thought that I made someone else’s kid go missing because I. Was. Working!””

Of course the woman felt guilty about everything. I mean, your kid goes missing, who else are you going to blame other than yourself? But she also was chipping away at the idea it was her fault that that poor girl was missing too. Blames herself for working later than usual, and wasn’t the one to come across her own son on the road and pick him up. That’s a lot of guilt for someone who’s holding the family together on her own.

He listens to the volunteers shout the children’s names, hoping that they would shout back. Hopper wishes that too. He prays that one of them would yell back for help and get this nightmare over with.

“Hey!” He shouts at the two officers. “Anything?”

Callahan shakes his head. “You?”

“No, nothing but a dead phone.”

“Joyce?”

Hopper nods. “About one step from falling off the edge.”

“She’s been a few steps for a while now, hasn’t she?” Powell asked, as he’s met with a stern glare.

“Kid’s missing, man. Show a little class.” Hopper snaps, making them avert their eyes.

“All right…”

He exhales and takes off with the rest of the group, shouting, “Come on, let’s go! We got a lot of ground to cover.” He keeps his fingers crossed that this would be it. That this would be the search that brings them home.

For their mothers' sake.

For his sake.

For every goddamn person out of here’s sake.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE NIGHT BEFORE ||

Stephanie shifted through the last cabinet and frowns. “Well, we can’t cook anything because there’s no electricity. But we can eat the dry goods. Unless we can figure out how to start a fire” She sighs, and wrinkles her nose. I mean, they can go a few days without eating if they didn’t want to touch the box of crackers covered in goo. But water? How were they supposed to have water if the faucet comes out with something they probably shouldn’t drink.

She rubs her temples, thinking. “I guess we’re going to have to look for some bottled stuff to drink.” She makes contact with the boy who just entered the room. “How you feeling?”

“Fine. I got a bit of a chill, but we can still grab clothes out of the closets if we need it.” Will replies, hugging his walkie talkie close.

“And the call?”

“Nothing. I mean I could hardly ever get reception over here anyway, so maybe we can try finding a different spot.”

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea." She says with a sigh. “Where’s the shotgun?”

“Oh, uh– Mom’s room.” He points behind him.

“Alright, maybe I’ll take a peek outside. If it seems clear, maybe we can try to find some reception.”

Stephanie leaves the room with Will looking back at his walkie. He had to remain strong, hopeful. He has to get through to someone. His friends, his family, one of them has to be able–

Wait.

Was he hearing things? Was his mind playing tricks?

His eyes trail to his living room where he swears he heard someone talking. It was faint, but you can’t miss it.

It sounds like… His chest tightens at a thought, his brown orbs blown wide as he looks at the yellow phone on the wall. It was probably hopeless, stupid even, I mean… the damn thing didn’t work when Stephanie tried to call for help when they were being chased. But that was the real world, this was… fake? Maybe it different, maybe it’s—

Oh, shit.

Maybe he’s just grasping at straws at this point and hopes it turns out okay.

His fingers latch around the phone, pulling it off the receiver and dials his home’s number, praying with all his might that this ridiculous idea would actually work.

Come on, come on, come on, come on, com–

Oh, he felt like crying when someone picked up.

[ ‘Hello?’ ]

His mother’s voice broke through and poke him in the heart. He couldn’t breath as relief washed over him like a storm.

[ ‘Hello? Lonnie? Hopper? Who is this?’ ]

Say something, say something, say something– His lip quivers as he swallows. “M-Mom?” He can’t wait till Steph hears about this. “M-Mom, I-It’s me.”

She can hear me right? She has to.

[ ‘Will? Will? It’s Will!’ ]

[ ‘Mom, it’s Will?’ ]

He could cry upon hearing the second voice. “J-Jonathan? Mom? M-Me and Stephanie are tr-trap in some weird place! I-I don’t know what t-to–”

Then he was cut off by the dreadful sound of the monster. Will watched as its claws wrapped around the corner, almost like it was pulling itself into the kitchen. He doesn’t even know where it came from. He didn’t even hear it freaking come in!

He froze on sight, his mother shouting something he couldn’t make out as the beast with no eyes looked directly at him. He wanted to scream but it was stuck in his throat. Is this how he was going to die? Die by listening to his mother’s pleas to answer her?

It shrieked and seemed to get bigger, ready to strike him down before it took a bullet to the face. The shot made it fall against the wall, and Will drops the fried phone and backs himself away. Stephanie looked half scared to death too as she cocks the shotgun again and fires one more when it stands up, sending it flying to the living room. As quickly as her buckling knees could hold her, she rushes over to Will, pulling him behind her as she aims the barrel into the direction the beast was. Shaking intensely, she carefully peeks around the corner to find that it had completely vanished like it did earlier. She gasps in shock before sliding to the ground herself, mentally drained.

“Steph!!” Will calls out with worry. He could see her eyes glassing over, her skin becoming paler as she shouts,

“Where the fuck are we?!”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT DAY ||

Steve strolls into school, head in the clouds, and an aching feeling in the pit of his stomach. His sleep went to complete shit after the conversation with his girlfriend last night. He still doesn’t understand why it was affecting him so much. It’s not like him and Steph hung out anymore. So why is he losing sleep over this?

You’re not even friends anymore, Harrington. He mentally slaps himself. Get your shit together–

“Boo!” Tommy yelled, jumping out from behind the corner, startling him.

“Jesus, Hagan.” Steve said, holding his chest while the other teen laughed.

“That was so easy.”

“So–” Carol’s arm snakes around him with a grin. “Did you tell your little girlfriend about your party?”

“I-I… not yet.”

“What? You didn’t tell her at her house yesterday?”

“N-No. Never got the chance to.”

“What?!” Tommy scoffs. “Stealthy Stevie didn’t get to use his skills last night?” Him and his girlfriend laughed, but then grew quiet seeing how distant the King was being. “What the fuck’s going on with you, man?”

“Um…” Steve’s gaze gets caught onto someone else, spotting a certain person posting a certain flier up on the bulletin board. He swallows, and masks a fake smile. “You guys go ahead to class. I got to grab something out of my locker.”

“Oh, we can go with you.” Carol begins, trying to follow him but he shakes them off.

“No, no. Go ahead. I’ll meet you there.” Steve ignores the strange looks they gave him before walking away. Deciding this was the ‘only’ way, he rushes over to the oldest Byers kid, ‘accidently’ pushing his shoulder into his, knocking the papers out of his hand while he was leaving. He scoffs, while saying, “Watch where you’re going!”

Jonathan says nothing as he bends over to collect the rest, oblivious to the other teenager sliding a paper away with his foot. Once he leaves, Steve retrieves the flier from under his shoe, reading it over.

HAVE YOU SEEN ME? Stephanie Henderson Age 16, 5’4” Brown Hair, Blue Eyes, 110lbs. Last seen wearing a brown work uniform, black jacket, white sneakers, and a baseball cap. Reach out to Claudia Henderson or Joyce Byers at #### or ####

Steve stares with a distant look in his eyes, thumb brushing over her picture. Such a gentle smile for a gentle person. God… why did they have to use that picture? It was right before he–

He frowns, throwing his head back.

Fuck…

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Back at the Wheeler’s house, Mike decided to stay home, his parents totally unaware of him doing so. He showed the new girl around his place, acting a bit giggly when they finally got to his room. He was so excited to show off his action figures, and comic books, and anything else that he holds close to his heart. He didn’t even realize she was starting to wander off to where a collection of trophies were. Her brown eyes grew with fascination by them.

“Oh, these are all my science fair trophies. We got first every year.” Mike’s smile drops just a tad. “Except for last year when we got third. Mr. Clarke said it was totally political.”

Yeah, it totally was that. He expected some kind of reaction from her, except for the one where her eyes widened and she slowly pointed to the picture of Will in their fair picture together.

Mike perked up, hopeful. “You know Will? Did you see him? Last Night? On the road? Did–” He pauses. “Hang on a sec.” Maybe he’s getting his hopes up as he grabs another photo after shifting around in his drawer. It was a picture of his friends’ families at the lake, posing nicely for the camera.

He points to the girl in the right hand corner. “This is Stephanie. She’s his sister.” He points to Dustin who’s hanging out behind her. “She supposedly gave Will a ride the night he disappeared, and we can’t find her either. Did you see her too?”

The girl studies Steph’s face, slowly the same reaction she had from seeing Will returned as she pointed again. “I–”

Her answer was cut short when they heard something from outside. Mike gets up quickly, peeking through his curtains to see his mother’s car pulling into the driveway. He pales.

“Shit.” He rushes to grab her by the hand and strings her along. “We gotta hide!”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| HOURS BEFORE ||

Of course the eldest stayed awake for most of the night, the two of them tucked away in the far corner of Will’s room, her eyes trained on the door just in case that wretched monster appeared again. She kept a good grip on the shotgun, one foot planted on the ground for a quick pop up if needed. Adrenaline was pumping in her blood, she was fighting off her exhaustion and hunger, while a tune played on her dry lips.

“♪ Here we stand

Worlds apart, hearts broken in two. Two. Two

Sleepless nights.

Losing ground, I’m reaching for you. You. You

Feeling that it’s gone

Can’t change your mind

If we can’t go on

To survive–♪”

Will stirred beside her, his head resting on her shoulder that was starting to fall asleep, but she refused to jostle the kid. God knows he needs his rest. Well… so does she, but she’ll get around to that.

Her mind wanders back to the conversation they had last night, the one where Will admitted he spoke to his mother on the phone. Shock wasn’t the right word, especially when she examined the phone that had been burnt black, and when asking again if he heard that right, the youngest Byers swears he did.

Is there actually a way to communicate to… well… ‘our world’, I guess. She ponders on that thought, wondering if it’s possible to do so without frying your phone to death. Not to mention Will swears he heard people talking before calling his mother. Can we only communicate to the people we ‘hear’?

She scolds herself. This hurts my head too much.

“♪ –The tide

Love divides

Someday, love will find you

Break those chains that bind you

One night will remind you

How we touched and went our separate ways

If he ever hurts you

True love won’t desert you

You know I still love you

Though we touched and went our separate ways– ♪”

Will stirred again, this time waking up slowly with a groan. “Was it a dream…?” He whispers, his eyes opening at a snail pace.

“I wish.” Steph says, sadly.

“Did you sleep okay?” He asks, rubbing his face.

Her heart skips a beat and a lie slips out. “Uh, yeah. It was fine.”

“That’s good.”

“We shouldn’t stay here.” She says, surprising him. “We should probably move around, maybe lose that monster for a while. And you’re probably hungry too, I know my mom keeps cans and bottled water down in our basement for emergencies. That should tie us over for a little while.”

“Is it even safe to go out?” He wonders, yet intrigued. He’ll admit… he is a bit famished.

“I don’t know. But we got to try. Right?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Whoa, whoa. Careful, careful.” Hopper says as he snags his partner by the collar. “I need you alive for the next few days, at least.”

Callahan smirked and scoffed as he gestures to the Quarry below. “Oh, hell, I could survive that.” He said, making his superior laugh. “What? George Burness made the jump. And he was drunk as a skunk. He did it on a $10 bet.”

“George is a liar. You make that jump from this height, that water turns into cement. Hits you like a ton of bricks.” Hopper smacks his hands together. “Break every damn bone in your body.”

The youngster pondered on that for a second before shaking his head. “Nah.”

[ ‘Chief, you copy?’ ]

Hopper grabs his walkie from his belt. “Yeah, Flo, talk to me.”

[ ‘Hey, Chief, we got a call from over at Benny’s. I think you need to get there right away.’ ]

And those were words he didn’t want to hear. So he and his team rushed over there as quickly as they could, and the first they were met with was the smell of a rotting corpse.

“Ugh, Jesus!” Callahan said, covering his nose.

“Suicide?” Powell asked, after a moment of silence.

Hopper hummed and stared in disbelief at the man laying on the table, pistol in hand and a bullet wound straight through the temple. There’s no way this can be real.

“Missing kid, suicide.” Callahan frowns. “You must feel like a big city cop again, huh, Chief?

“Well, I mostly dealt with strangers back then.” Hopper replies, this particular moment he almost broke down. “Benny was my friend.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| HOURS BEFORE ||

Stephanie peeked outside before gesturing to Will to follow. The two of them had backpacks on that they found lying around, going to use them to fill up with anything they could find – But the task that lay ahead was going to be hard. The task was…

Walking back through Mirkwood to the Henderson home.

No lights, just a few bullets to spare, and their pure will to survive (Or maybe it’s the fear that’s fueling that will).

“I don’t like this.” Will mutters, only a few minutes after they left the Byers’ driveway and down a few feet on the road. “What if that thing spawns in front of us again?”

“Then we shoot it and book it again. That’s all we can do now.” Steph replies, carefully looking around. But what if he’s right? What if thing actually just spawns out of thin air? Then there’s not telling where and when not to go.

He stays silent, shaking a tad as they make it further down the road. It took a hot minute for the older girl to notice this and stop briefly, the twelve year old’s eyes confused just as she held out her hand. Without missing a beat, his clammy hand takes it, squeezing it tight. She smiles just a tad, reminding her of Dustin before they started walking again.

She felt him hang on to dear life as they strolled into the darkest part of Mirkwood, the eeriness that was silence was making their hearts race. She came to a conclusion after facing the monster last night that she had to be the strong one here. She has to act like the older sister again, and remain calm, and to keep him safe.

I made a promise. I don’t know how to fulfill it just yet, but I’m going to get him out of here. Steph casts a glance down at him, the poor boy’s face looked so cold. Does hers look like that too?

She grins after a quick thought. “Hey–” His eyes locked with hers. “What does a ‘Ranger’ do in D&D? That one sounds intriguing to me.”

His face lights up. “You actually want to play D&D?”

“Hey, you suggested it, I might as well. So, the Ranger? What’s that like? The lore?”

“Well, Rangers are warriors that explore different civilizations, and they hunt down the deadliest of monsters. They’re trained in many different combat techniques, survival skills, and even some magic.”

“Magic? I like the sound of that.”

“They mostly reside in the forest, or anything ‘nature-y’.”

She chuckles. “I don’t like the sound of that. What else? Aren’t there like… classes… or different types?

“Oh, yeah.” He nods. “I guess it depends on what you prefer. Do you want me to tell you?”

“I’m all ears.” Steph said, making a motion. I’m just glad he’s stopped shaking.

“Well, there’s a lot. The most common ones are ‘Beast Masters’, which are accompanied with an animal companion. Then there’s ‘Hunters’, which are mainly just professional assassins that take down monsters of all sorts. Now, even though all Rangers have the capability of taking monsters down, Hunters are strictly made just to do that.”

She hums. “Interesting.”

“Then there’s ‘Gloom Stalkers’, who live mostly in dark realms, and take down the shadowy beasts roaming the territory. They’re pretty good at ambushing their opponents.” He smiles. “Personally, I find that the coolest.”

“Well, I can see why. What else? Do Rangers get weapons?”

“Of course! The most common is a two-blade or archery.”

“Archery sounds cool.”

“See, I agree. But I know Lucas always says it’s ‘stupid’, so–”

Steph shakes her head with a sigh. “Oh, well. I guess I’ll have to prove him wrong when I play.”

“So you are going to play with us!” Will said, joyfully, like you just told him Christmas was coming early.

“If that’s how I prove Lucas wrong, then so be it. So how does one newbie play D&D?” She asked, hopefully this will keep him occupied. At least I can keep him distracted until we get there.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT ||

“Are you out of your mind?” Lucas said, as soon as Mike was done with his explanation for them being here.

“Just listen to me.” Mike pleads.

“You are out of your mind–”

“She knows about Will and Steph.”

Dustin perks up after being the silent one here. “What do you mean she knows about them?”

Mike grabs the pictures from earlier and holds them up. “She pointed at them, at their picture. She knew they were missing. I could tell.”

“You could tell?” Lucas asked, looking between the pictures and the girl who was on the bed.

“Just think about it. Do you really think it was a coincidence that we found her on Mirkwood, the same place where they disappeared?”

Dustin nodded, agreeing. “That is weird.”

“And she said bad people are after her.” Mike said, with a frown. “I think maybe these bad people are the same ones that took Will and Steph. I think she knows what happened to them.”

“Then why doesn’t she tell us?” Lucas asked, glaring at her direction before stomping over. “Do you know where they are?” He grabs her by the shoulder. “Do you know where Will and Stephanie are?!”

“Stop it, you’re scaring her!” Mike pulls him away, as his friend brushes him off.

“She should be scared! If you know where they are, tell us! This is nuts. We have to take her to your mom.”

“No! Eleven said telling any adult would put us in danger.”

“What kind of danger?” Dustin asked, his thoughts from earlier about his sister and Will taking a shotgun with them crossed his mind.

Lucas gives him a weird look. “Her name is Eleven?”

“El for short.” Mike clarifies.

“Mike! What kind of danger?” Dustin pushes, his stomach turning.

“Danger danger!” The brunette makes a finger gun and points it between Henderson’s eyes before moving over towards Lucas who demises quickly.

“No, no, no!” Sinclair snaps, rushing for the door. “We’re going back to plan A. We’re telling your mom.”

He pulls open the door only for it to slam shut automatically. Not even batting an eye at that, he tries again, for it to not only to shut with more force but to even lock itself. The boys look back at the only explanation, and they see El standing on her feet with a drop of blood coming out of her nose.

“No.” She said, with a tone that told them not to push it.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Back at the station, Hopper was questioning an anxious friend of Benny’s. Earl was his name, and he was sitting in a chair, eyes full of disbelief as he lit a cigarette.

“Just doesn’t make any sense, Chief.”

“You, uh, notice anything odd about him the last few weeks?” Hopper asked, trying to keep it professional (even though this case was hurting him the most).

Earl shakes his head. “No, we’re fixin’ to go fishing down the Etowah next Sunday. I mean, he was lookin’ forward to it. I know that.”

“He got any enemies you might know about? I mean, people who might not want him around?”

“The exes didn’t like him much. That’s for sure, but… nah.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Yesterday. Lunch, same as always.”

“Just you and the boys?”

“Yep. Me and Henry and…” He pauses. “Well, there was this, uh, this kid. No kid did this.”

“Kid?” Hopper nearly perked up hope. “What are you talking about?”

“Yeah. At lunch, uh, there was this boy that, uh I mean, he was trying to steal food out of Benny’s kitchen. Can you imagine that?”

Hopper locked eyes with Callahan who got the silent message. “This kid what’d he look like?”

“Well, he was about yea high.” Earl raises his arm up and out. “You know, tiny like. I didn’t get a good look at him, though. He was back in the kitchen.”

“He look like this?” Callahan asked, coming back with a missing kid poster of Will.

He takes the flier, and immediately shakes his head. “Oh, no, that’s… that’s Lonnie’s missin’ kid. No. This was a different kid. This one had really short hair. I mean, it was buzzed nearly down to the scalp.”

Hopper tries not to let his composure break, and continues to hold on to the slimmer of hope. “Yeah, well, let’s… You know, let’s forget about the haircut. I mean, if this kid had a buzz cut… could it be Lonnie’s kid?”

“Well, I-I… didn’t get a good look at him. About the right height, though. I mean, could’ve been. Yeah, that’s… Could’ve been.”

Hopper frowns, taking the poster back from him. “And, you only saw the boy right? No girl? Teenager? Dark hair?”

“No.” Earl shakes his head once more. “No. I didn’t see a girl.”

The Chief mentally sighs. This is not good.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

[ ‘A party?’ ]

Finally! Steve thought, pumping his fist. She finally sounded intrigued. He was hoping this would make up for his weird behavior at school.

And, no, no, no, It wasn’t because of– well… ‘you know who’. Totally not because of her. Totally, totally, totally not–

[ ‘Steve?’ ]

Nancy’s voice broke through his totally not clouded mind. “Uh, yeah, sorry. Yeah, a party. Well… kind of. It’s just going to be me, Tommy H. and Carol. No parents for the whole weekend, so we wouldn’t have to worry about them coming in and ruining the mo-jo.”

Just my friends and my girlfriend. Just having fun, no worries about–

[ ‘Not much of a party with just four people.’ ]

He laughs. “Okay, I’ll admit, it’s a little sad. But you know, it’s better this way. And, you know, if you want to, you can invite Barbara. If it makes you feel more comfortable. Or not. Or you don’t have to come–”

[ ‘Steve.’ ]

“Yeah?”

[ ‘I’ll totally come. But I’m going to try to convince Barb first if that’s alright.’ ]

“Yeah, Yeah. Totally. It starts at seven.”

[ ‘Starts at seven. Got it. I’ll see you then.’ ]

He smiles. “See you then. Bye.”

[ ‘Bye.’ ]

“Yes!” He said, once he hung up the phone. “Finally.” He feels his spirits get lifted again. “This is going to be perfect.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| HOURS BEFORE ||

“Welcome to Mi Casa.” Stephanie said, upon entering her home. Just as gross and dark as Will’s.

“You said the basement, right?” Will asked, the thought of eating something sounded nice.

“Yep.”

They thought navigating below “sunlight” was going to be hard, but I guess living in darkness for nearly twenty-four hours had its perks. Finding the tote where the emergency supplies were easier than they thought, their stomachs growing when they saw the cans of food.

“Hang on second.” Steph said, disappearing back up the stairs for a sec, and then coming back with some forks and a can opener. She uses her shirt to wipe it clean the best she could before using. “Pineapple or Peaches?”

“Pineapple, please.” Will said, drooling as she placed the open can in his hands. The two of them plop down criss-cross applesauce, sighing with relief that they could finally take a rest.

“We’ll have to take what we can, but don’t make your bag too heavy in case we need to run again. Got it?” She replies, sliding over a bottle of water to him too. He nods, and takes a second to chug some liquid too.

One can was enough for now, since none of them had any clue how long they’ll be here, they’ll need to ration what they can find. Food, water, a first aid kit, some mittens and hats, an extra jacket, socks (And Will was proud to find a half box of matches laying around).

“Do we need anything else?” He asked, making her think.

She hums, and feels around her pockets. “We need more ammo. Or another gun at least.”

“Do you have any?”

“No. I don’t.” She closes her eyes. Now where could we get more nearby?

But the more she thought about it, the more she dreaded. She does know one place they have a gun, and hopefully still does since it’s been so long.

She sighs. “I know… one place that has a gun. It’s far though. Really far. It’ll take us a couple hours to get there on foot. But it’s closer than going to town.”

“If that’s what we have to do, then let’s do it.” Will said, sliding his backpack back on, ready to start their journey again. He flashes her a goofy grin. “I hope I can count this as PE for school.”

If that was a joke to cheer her up then it totally worked.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Now that they might have a lead, the police and its volunteers spread out in the woods behind Benny’s diner, hoping to find some good news (For Hopper’s sake he really hopes so).

“Hey, you think Earl really saw Will?” Callahan asked, trying to keep up with his Boss’ speed. “I mean, what’s he doin’ with a shaved head? And stealing food from Benny?”

“Tell you what, when we find him, we’ll ask.” Hopper replies, with an attitude.

“Can’t ask a corpse questions.” Powell said, getting a glare. Suddenly, one of the volunteers blew a whistle.

“Hold up! You got something?” Hopper shouted and broke into a sprint. “Hey, what do you got?”

“Not sure.” The person said, crouching down next to a drain. “Maybe nothing. I found this. In there.”

Hopper takes a piece of fabric from his hand, before shining his flashlight through the drain, still hopeful that maybe he was lying in there, scared but safe.

“No way a kid crawls through there.” Powell said, in denial.

“I don’t know… a scared enough one might. His brother said he was good at hiding.”

“Yeah, but, just Will?” Callahan asked, conflicted. “What happened to Stephanie? ‘Cause there ain’t no way a teenager’s going to fit through this drain pipe.”

“Maybe they separated?” Powell questioned.

“I’m not so sure about that. Claudia said her daughter would never leave anyone behind.”

“Willingly that is.”

“Come on, you two.” Hopper said, jogging again.

This time, they decided to follow the drain pipe that led them further into the forest. Just as their knees were about to give out, they’re met with an electric fence and a keep out sign for the one and only…

Hawkins Lab.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“El?” Mike announces his arrival into the basement. He had just finished having dinner with his family, and even convinced his mom to let his friends stay the night. All part of his plan to figure out what was happening to his missing family.

“No adults. Just us and some meatloaf.” He continues, placing a tray down in front of the makeshift fort, letting her know to come out. Her eyes trail to him and then to the two boys falling behind. “Don’t worry. They won’t tell anyone about you. They promise. Right?”

“We never would’ve upset you if we knew you had superpowers.” Dustin said, before getting hit in the leg by Mike. “Ow!”

“What Dustin is trying to say is that they were just scared… earlier. That’s all.”

“We just wanted to find our friends.” Lucas admitted, feeling a tad guilty for his actions.

“‘Friends’?” El asked, confused by that word. It was so foreign to her. What does it even mean?

“Yeah, friends. Will? Steph?”

“What are ‘friends’?”

Lucas gave her a weird look. “Is she serious?” Henderson shrugged. “Um, a friend–”

“Is someone that you’d do anything for.” Mike cuts in.

“You lend them your cool stuff, like comic books and trading cards.” Dustin adds.

“And they never break a promise.”

“Especially when there’s spit.” Lucas also puts in, making sure she was getting it.

“Spit?” El said, tilting her head.

“A spit swear means–” He spits into his palm. “You never break your word.” He holds his hand out for Dustin to take and shake. “It’s a bond.”

Mike nods in agreement. “That’s super important, because friends… they tell each other things. Things that parents don’t know.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Barbara finally pulls the car over to the side after her friend insisted they stop here. She looks over at the brunette with a strange look. “What are we doing here? His house is three blocks away.”

“We can’t park in the driveway.” Nancy said, making the ginger roll her eyes.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, the neighbors might see.”

“This is so stupid.” Barb shakes her head. “I’m just gonna drop you off.”

“Calm down, Barb. Come on. You promised that you’d go.” Nancy pleaded with her ‘baby doe’ face. “You’re coming. We’re gonna have a great time.”

“He just wants to get in your pants.”

Nancy chuckles with disbelief. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Nance… seriously. He invited you to his house. His parents aren’t home. Come on, you are not this stupid.”

“Tommy H. and Carol are gonna be there.”

“Tommy and Carol have been having sex since, like, seventh grade.” Barb cringes at the thought. “It’ll probably just be, like, a big orgy.”

“Gross.”

“I’m serious!”

“All right, well…” Nancy takes her seat belt off and starts unbuttoning her sweater. “You can be, like, my guardian. All right? Make sure I don’t get drunk and do anything stupid.”

“Ugh.” Barb said, shaking her head. She watches as her friend takes her top off and starts fiddling around in her purse for another one. “Is that a new bra?”

Nancy pauses. “No.”

“So, obvious, Nancy…”

“Hey.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“What’s the weirdo doing?” Lucas asked, watching her sit at their D&D table and close her eyes.

“El?” Mike said, as they gathered around, waiting.

When she opens her eyes, she slowly gravitates to one of the pieces and picks it up. “Will.” She replies, showing it was the Wizard piece, the one that the boy always plays as.

“Superpowers.” Dustin said, as Lucas rolled his eyes, still not convinced about this whole thing.

“Did you see him? On Mirkwood? Do you know where he is?” Mike asks, just before she brushes the rest of the figures off the board and flips it over. She places the wizard piece on the board. “I don’t understand.”

“Hiding.” She replies, the boys looking at one another. She then places another figure down, surprising them.

“Who is that supposed to be?” Lucas asked, as Dustin perked up.

“The Ranger. Is that Stephanie?” He asked, as she nodded. “Are they hiding?” She nods again. “Together.” Another nod.

“From the bad men?” Mike asked, but she shakes her head in disappointment. “Then from who?”

And without saying another word she places another figure down.

It was a beast with two heads.

The Demogorgon.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| NOW ||

It took a while like she said, and luckily they had no trouble getting there, but what was troubling the young boy was that she wouldn’t tell him where they were going. Was she embarrassed by this place? Did something happen? He doesn’t know, but it’s gnawing at him.

“We’ve arrived.” She said, as they were coming up to it.

It was… a pretty big house, much bigger than his and even his friends’ houses. He wonders if this was one of the rich neighbourhoods or something like that. And sure enough… his questions would be answered when he happened to catch the name on the mailbox.

Oh.

Now he understands why she didn’t say anything.

“So this is the…” Was he choosing his words correctly? “The King’s house?”

“Yep.” Stephanie said, hand on the doorknob which miraculously opened. She rolls her blue eyes. “They still keep it unlocked.” They stepped inside, still gloomy and covered in vines and goo like the last two. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Will follows behind, observing everything that seemed a bit foreign for him. “I knew they were rich but I didn’t know they were that rich.” He said after observing art piece after art piece that he knows isn’t locally made.

“Yeah, they got crazy money.” She said, and her pace seemed to quicken without her noticing. She hustles into the parents room, opening the closet to find a safe. “Shit.” She forgot about the lock. “Where did that bastard put the key?”

Stephanie starts running around the bedroom, pulling open drawers, looking through trinkets, his wife’s jewelry box too – A curse word after every failed attempt.

“Steph?” Will said, worriedly.

“Just give me a second.” She snapped, and left the room. She starts opening the drawers from the tables in the hallway, visibly getting more annoyed with each second. “For fuck sakes–”

“Stephanie!”

“What?!” She slammed it shut, rattling everything that was on. The force and her tone seemed to shock him, and even take a small step back. She grips the table, closing her eyes to calm herself. “Fuck. I just…”

And when she opens them she finds herself staring at the boy she wanted to forget about. It was a picture of him on his swim team, the frame saying: Championship 1981. She just stares at with emotions the youngest Byers couldn’t figure out what they were.

“Steph?” He asked, slowly.

“Yeah?”

“What happened to you and Steve?”

She continues to stare at the photo for another minute before pushing herself to stand. “I think he still keeps that knife in his room.” Was what she muttered before heading in the opposite direction to another room.

Will could only wonder what really happened to them…

Just as the lights started to flicker.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT ||

Inside the most “fabulous” party of the year, Barb laid back in one of the pool chairs, listening to the terrible music that’s blasting in her ear as her best friend watches her boyfriend slice a hole into a beer can and start drinking it all in one go.

“Is that supposed to impress me?” Nancy asked, as he sat down and lit a cigarette.

“You’re not?” Steve asked, genuinely surprised.

“You are a cliche, you do realize that?”

“You are a cliche. What with your– your grades and your band practice.”

“I’m so not in band.”

“Okay, party girl. Why don’t you just, uh, show us how it’s done, then?” He hands her the knife and a can.

“Okay.” She says, all giggly.

“You gotta make a little hole right in–”

“I got it.”

“Yeah, she’s smart, you douche!” Tommy said, as he crushes his own can on his forehead.

Soon, everyone was chanting “Chug” as Nancy down a whole beer in under thirty seconds. Everyone cheered and laughed, proud at the achievement.

“Barb, you wanna try?” Nancy asked, holding the blade up.

“What? No. No, I don’t want to. Thanks.” She said, shaking her head. But after a quick back and forth badgering she finally gave in. She rips the items out of the girl’s hand, clearly upset. It wasn’t long before her judgment was clouding her mind and accidentally nicks herself.

“Whoa, Gnarly.” Tommy said, impressed by the deep cut.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asked, worriedly.

“Yeah.” Barb said, trying to push her away.

“Barb, you’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh, it’s– Steve stands up, and starts taking her over to the sliding door. “It’s, uh, down past the kitchen, to the left.” He frowns. Shit of course.

But before he could say anything, Tommy had pushed Carol into the pool and then jumped in after her. Steve then shrugs, and lets a smirk play on his face as he does the same to Nancy before doing a cannonball.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| NOW ||

Steph tries to contain herself as she enters his room. It was taking a lot of strength not to just start flipping things over, and tear those stupid pendants off the wall.

Stupid fucking house. Stupid fucking room. Stupid fucking Harrington. She grits her teeth, fighting back the tears in her eyes as she desperately tries to remember where he hid the blade.

She lets out a groan. “For fuck sake’s, man! Where did you put it?!” She yells, and kicks whatever was near her. She swears something must have fallen out from it, but she doesn’t even want to look.

God damn you, Harrington. She scolds, and rubs her face. How can he–

That’s when the light in his room flickered on and off scaring her half to death. “What the–”

“Stephanie!” Will’s voice shouted, kicking her into high gear.

“Fuck.” She mumbles, and races to find that blade.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT ||

As soon as Barb comes out of the bathroom, she immediately spots a certain someone heading up the stairs. “Nance! Nancy.” She shouts, getting her to stop. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere. Just… upstairs. To change. I… fell in the pool.” Nancy said, feeling like she was on cloud nine. “Why don’t you go ahead and go home. I’ll just… I’ll get a ride or something.”

“Nance–”

“Barb, I’m fine.”

“This isn’t you.”

“I’m fine. Just go ahead and go home, okay?”

And then Nancy leaves her all alone, confused and heartbroken by her friend’s actions. But despite being hurt, she couldn’t just up and leave her drunken buddy like this. So…

She decides to wait.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Steve had found her some clothes she could change in, and he was grinning like a kid upon the thought of seeing his girlfriend in his clothes.

I’m such a dork. He tells himself as she calls out his name. “Yeah?” There was a look in her eyes that he’s never seen before, and honestly was turned on by it.

But ‘Fuck that’, says the universe, and the home phone starts to ring.

He groans, irritated. “Hang on a second–” He proceeds to run out of the room, and shouts, “Hey! Turn the music down in case it’s my parents.”

Nancy chuckles, cheeks flush because she was ready to lose her– wait. Did something just touch her leg? She looks down to find that a box was tipped over and had opened, and wonders when that happened. Did she accidently kick it without realizing? Or was it already like that? Frankly, curiosity got the best of her as she crouched down to try to fix it. But then, her actions slowed when she saw something.

The Wheeler picks up a paper – a flier – to her surprise was the missing poster of Stephanie Henderson.

“What?” She says, quietly, confusedly. Why was he keeping this? And that’s when she puts two and two together. She starts shifting through the small pile which was made up of photos, movie tickets, receipts from a record store, arcade tokens and– “Oh, my god.”

Suddenly, Steve comes jogging back in, relief on his face. “False alarm. It was just–”

“So who is she to you?” Nancy asked, standing up and flashing the memorabilia at him.

His face falls immediately. “Hey, that’s–”

“Is she the person that was rumored you pushed away?”

“It’s nothing.” Steve replies, trying to take the stuff away from her, but she ain’t budging.

“It’s nothing, or she’s nothing?”

“It’s– W-What? You jealous?” He asked, trying to play this thing off cool, but his girlfriend wasn’t stupid.

“Nancy, stop, it’s just–”

“Why did you break it off?”

His brain short circuits again. “What?”

“I…” Why couldn’t he fucking talk all of a sudden? “I didn’t, I–”

“So, she broke it off?” She said, eyebrow raised.

“No. I-I broke it off, she didn’t do anything–”

“So… why did you?”

“Nancy–”

Now it was her turn to look lost (and for Steve to lose all the color in his face). She frowns, slowly pulling out a small casing. “Is this a… bullet?”

“That’s nothing!” He manages to snag at least that away.

“Why do you have a bullet in the box?!” She asks, eyes blown wide.

He swallows. “Nancy–”

“Did you shoot her or something?”

“What?!” He scoffs. “No! Why would I shoot her?!”

“Well did she shoot you?”

“No! Nobody shot anybody, it was just–”

“Then why do you have a stray bullet cas–”

It takes her a moment to process it all, and she does put all the stuff in her hands away, but she remains silent the whole time. She’s never seen him act this way before.

It honestly concerned her.

Nancy breaks eye contact, and only reverses it when she gathers the right words. “Look, Steve, I’m sorry I intruded, I probably shouldn’t have but… I’m just trying to understand you.”

Steve shakes his head, still confused. “I-I…” He shrugs, and crosses his arms defensibly. “What’s there to understand?”

Nancy gestures to him and says, “Well, for starters, you’re an airhead and–”

“So?” He cuts in, as she holds her tongue and continues.

“And you’re arrogant, snarky, and sweet–”

“Sweet’s fine.”

“Of course. Sweet’s fine. I love how nice you are to me, Steve.” She then frowns for him. “However, that gets overshadowed by your… insecurities.”

He pauses, now it was his turn to take in those words (What the hell did she mean by that? He’s not… no). “I don’t… I don’t have any… any–”

“Steve.” Nancy takes a step closer. “I don’t know why the kid in these pictures decided to change into the one I’m seeing before me, but if that doesn’t have to do with any insecurities, then I’m not sure why you decided to make that change willingly.”

“I… W-Willingly?” He scoffs again. “What do you mean? I never change willingly? What are you even getting at, Nance?” He hasn’t changed. He’s never changed. What is she even getting at?

“Maybe there was a good reason for you to end it, but that’s not an excuse for you to stop being who you really are.”

And Steve’s left with an epiphany he’s not sure he can decipher.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| NOW ||

As soon as the lock was broken, she retrieved the gun from the safe and frantically told her companion to get down the stairs. Will and Steph’s hearts were in their ears, and it sped up when the light above the front door flickered.

“Shit–” She pulls the boy to a halt, and redirects them to the back door. “Go, go, go, go, go.”

She throws open the sliding door, and out into the backyard, but as soon as they step foot onto the ground, the lights around the empty pool start to flicker. The two of them stopped immediately and held their breaths. They weren’t sure where the beast was at, but it was definitely nearby ready to snatch them up.

They were afraid to even breathe or twitch. What if this thing really does appear out of thin air?

They both jolted when a loud growl came from somewhere inside the pool. Wasting no time, Steph taps Will on the arm and makes a shushing gesture, then waves him to follow her. The boy understood completely, and the two of them move slowly, so carefully that there’s not way–

The both of them screamed when two human hands grabbed onto the top of the pool ladder.

A girl’s head poked up, face battered and covered in grime, her glasses shattered and splattered with blood. The girl looked so fam–

“Nancy!!” She shouts, as something growls behind her, scaring all of them to their core. And when her eyes landed on the two of them, she desperately yelled for help just seconds before the beast’s claws wrapped around her head and pulled her back.

Will and Steph matched the girl’s scream, and the beast roared in delight that his prey was just right in front of it. Its claws could be seen grabbing the ladder, like it was trying to crawl out and feast.

That’s when the two of them booked it.

The guns rattled in their hands.

The tears in their eyes.

Whatever this place was, they knew…

This couldn’t get compared to hell itself.

(TBC)

-Taglist is Open-

@ladygrey03 @poppet05 @tooearlyforthis @lovesfics @lordzzz

@mirkwoodshewolf @sadbitchfangirl @olivewisp

@emsownuniverse @unspecifiedvisitor @smaryamsstuff @kitty49646

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andvys · 7 months ago

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter nineteen ⭐︎ For you, I would ruin myself, a million little times

Warnings: angst, mentions of unrequited love, mentions of loss, insecurities, allusions to depression, mentions of cheating (jancy), sad memories, fluff at the end (with Steve, yes)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You take a painful road down memory lane and it makes you question everything.

Word count: 10.4k+

⭐︎ as always a special shoutout to @hellfire--cult thanks for plotting and writing with me hehe

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

“Are you ready to tell me or not?”

You look up from your plate, still chewing on the pasta that Eddie had cooked, you put down the fork and reach for your pepsi as you look at Max who stares at you with a tilted head, a knowing smile resting on her face.

You shake your head and furrow your brows at the girl, glancing at Eddie who looks just as confused as you do.

“Tell you what?”

Max picks up her garlic bread and shrugs, “about you and Steve and how you’ve been sneaking around behind everyone’s backs,” she says nonchalantly before she takes a bite.

You nearly choke on your drink, eyes growing wide, matching the ones of Eddie who seems to be just as surprised as you are, he even stopped eating.

You blink, trying to process her words.

“W-What?” Is all that you can say as you stare at the redhead, like a deer caught in headlights and with a pounding heart.

“You know, at first I thought Lucas was crazy for teasing Steve about you and making all those comments about how perfect you two are for each other, especially because Steve always seemed just as annoyed with you as you with him but then he suddenly had different reactions whenever Lucas said something about you and I noticed how red his cheeks got every time he looked at you all lovey dovey,” she holds her finger up, eyes growing wide as she pointing at you to stay quiet, “and then… and then! You both started disappearing at the same time and started whispering to each other, sitting next to each other when it’s something you wouldn’t have done before, not to mention the secret hand holding,” Max laughs, shaking her head at you.

Your eyes widen at her ‘lovey dovey’ comment, hope that has been rising in you more and more, burning warmly in your chest but Steve doesn’t look at you that way, does he?

Eddie stares at her, feeling impressed by her observations.

Just like him, you feel impressed too, shocked and a little nervous but not scared the way you would feel if it were anyone else but her. She can keep a secret and she is like a sister to you – and unfortunately, sisters always know everything and uncover secrets without a struggle.

“I don’t know how the others haven’t figured it out yet, you two are so obvious,” she snorts, picking up her fork again, she stabs her pasta onto it, “just as obvious as my mom and your uncle,” she says to Eddie who shrugs and nods in agreement, “I mean… does anyone actually believe that he’s fixing our fence? The fence is fine! … They go to Enzo’s like every Friday night, by the way.”

Eddie chuckles and takes a bite of his food, “it’s only a matter of time until you and your mom move in with us.”

You expect Max to roll her eyes at him but instead she smirks, “yeah, hope you’re ready to become my personal driver.”

“Am I not your personal driver already?” Eddie snorts. “I mean, you even got two personal drivers, didn’t you both go shopping this morning?” He asks, pointing between you.

“Yes we did, and we were very successful,” Max nods.

You aren’t surprised about Susan and Wayne, they’re truly very obvious and now you can’t help but wonder if you and Steve are the same, with the exception that you two aren’t dating… sadly.

Max looks away from Eddie, returning her gaze back to you, “so when were you gonna tell me that you and Steve are a couple?”

Eddie coughs, glancing at you sideways as he grimaces when he sees your falling expression.

“They’re not a couple,” Eddie says for you, noticing the way your eyes sadden and your lips curl downwards at his words.

Max furrows her brows, tilting her head at you and giving Eddie a look of confusion.

“What–”

“Yeah, Steve and I are not… dating.”

The past few weeks have felt like it though, it felt like there was something more between you and him, and after finding out that you have been the only girl for him these past few months, it started feeling even more like it.

Max stares at you now, eyebrows pulling up and eyes flashing with even more confusion, “but… huh?”

“They’re just having… uh… fun, Red,” Eddie chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck as he leans back in his seat, “you know… adult fun.”

You roll your eyes at his choice of words, just the way she does before she gives him a deadpan look.

“I’m not five, Eddie! I know what they’re doing but that makes no sense!”

“What doesn’t make sense?” You ask and reach for your drink again.

She looks down bewildered, dropping her fork and waving with her hands as she points at you, “Billy had fun and you know how much fun he had!”

You chuckle and nod.

“But he never held hands with those girls or looked at them like… like he was in love or something! He had fun and then he moved on to… the next… fun. It’s different with you and Steve though!”

A sigh falls from your lips and your shoulders slump as you lean back.

Yeah, of course it’s different with you and Steve, the difference between Billy’s fun and your fun is that he never loved any of the girls he had been with, you on the other hand, are sickly and madly in love with the guy you are having ‘fun’ with and you are pretty certain that Steve doesn’t feel the same, no matter what anyone says.

Eddie glances at you, waiting for you to say something, to tell her the truth because he knows you will, you don’t seem to feel the need to hide from Max, knowing she won’t run off to her friends and tell them all about it and risking it reaching Steve, Max isn’t like that, especially not when it comes to you.

“It’s not, Max…” You sigh, looking down at your hands.

She raises her eyebrows again, squinting her eyes at you.

“So… you’re saying it’s actually just fun?” She asks like she almost wants to chuckle in amusement.

You sigh again and raise your head again, rolling your eyes, “well… yeah… no, I– fuck… no, no it’s not just fun… not for me.”

Eddie looks at you sadly, sighing too.

“And Steve?”

You shrug, despite the hope in you, you don’t know what he feels, if he even feels anything for you.

“It’s just… fun… for him?” You mumble, flinching at your own words.

“Uh… is it?” Max mumbles, not looking or sounding convinced.

“It’s what he said,” Eddie shrugs, rolling his eyes when he thinks back to the night he confronted you both, “and he seemed pretty set on it, he said it just that and nothing more when I found out about it.”

“Mhm.” You nod, hiding your face as you tilt your head down again, not wanting to show more feelings than necessary. “Can we talk about something else now, please?”

Eddie nods, “sure–”

“No,” Max shakes her head, “I wanna talk about this!”

“My relationship with Steve isn’t appropriate to discuss with a teenager–”

“Oh, so there is a relationship,” Max interrupts you, giving you a smug smirk.

“No, there isn’t, you know what I mean!”

She chuckles and crosses her arms over her chest, continuing to stare at you.

“So… Do you love him then?”

Your eyeroll is enough of an answer to that question.

“I knew it,” she murmurs under her breath, “and what about him, you think he doesn’t feel the same?” She asks, thinking that her own question sounds absurd, she saw the way Steve looked at you, multiple times already.

“I know he doesn’t,” you shrug.

“Why not?”

“Because he hated me, Max–”

“Yeah, he obviously hated you so so much, that’s why you’re holding hands now and kissing every time you think no one’s watching! I don’t know about you but I wouldn’t hold hands and kiss my enemy… oh! Or look at them with lovesick smiles and everything!”

You sigh again, tilting your head back as you look up at the ceiling.

This isn’t good for you, it really isn’t, you don’t need to be fed with more delusions.

“I think he feels the same, it’s pretty clear!”

“If it’s so clear then why isn’t it being talked about?” Eddie retorts, not feeling convinced of Max’s words, “why didn’t he say anything to change their relationship yet? I mean, he had no issue talking to his ex-girlfriend about his feelings for her when he knew she was with someone else! Oh and by the way, Nancy cheated on him and left him for someone else and he still confessed his feelings for her again… years later, he knew he would look like an absolute fool – which he did but that didn’t stop him! So what should stop him now, hm? He’s got nothing to lose with her!” Eddie points at you, “she never hurt him, she has no one else that he has to compete against, she fucking loves him! So him confessing his feelings for her wouldn’t ruin anything like it would have with Nancy or Jonathan if they reacted badly to his stupid confession!”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, ignoring the stinging in your heart.

You knew all about his love confession to Nancy – their conversation in the RV was only the first step towards it. You remember the jealousy you felt when he told her about his dream, about the kids and the future he always wished for, you knew who he saw by his side when he talked about it all. To find out that he confessed his love to her in the Upside Down made you feel even worse, especially when you were still recovering from all your injuries. Robin rambled away about it and told you every detail, you didn’t even ask for.

Eddie’s words make your heart ache yet again, you know he is right, but they kill your hope a little and you are holding onto it so tightly.

Max, on the other hand, refuses to agree with him, she squints her eyes at him, leaning closer to the table, “maybe he is scared, Eddie? Have you thought of that? I mean, the whole thing with Nancy was… a heat of the moment kind of thing, there was literally nothing between them but there is something between them!” She argues, pointing at you.

“I have thought about it,” Eddie nods, “but if I feel like I might lose someone I love for not saying anything to them, I damn right would do something!”

“I love him, Eddie,” you mumble, your cheeks heating up at your vulnerable confession in front of Max, “but I never plan on telling him how I feel, so…”

Max groans at your words and rolls her eyes, “two idiots, I swear to god, I bet Steve is feeling and saying the same shit to whoever else knows.”

“Robin,” Eddie nods at her.

Robin, yeah.

Robin who is suddenly not as fond of you as she was before, rolling her eyes and scoffing at you every chance she gets, irritating you a little more every time you’re around her now. You considered her a close friend before she suddenly turned on you and started acting weirdly towards you. You don’t know what her deal is but you suspect that she minds your presence around her best friend, fearing that you might ‘steal’ him from her because he is spending less time with her and more with you – as though she wasn’t the first to ditch him to be with Vickie.

“Great!” Max shrugs, “then why don’t you talk to her, try to get information out of her… since you two are accomplices?”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head quickly, turning to Eddie in panic, “please don’t! Don’t talk to Robin, Eddie! She’s gonna tell Steve and if he doesn’t feel the same then…”

Eddie shakes his head at you, not needing you to finish the sentence. He reaches his hand out to you and squeezes your shoulder reassuringly, “I won’t, don’t worry,” he sighs, looking at you with sympathy in his eyes. He knows how deep your feelings are for Steve, how much you love him and how long you have loved him for already and now that you somewhat have him, you try to do everything to keep him, even when you are breaking your own heart in the process.

He isn’t fond of this affair because he has an idea of how it will end and he fears that day, knowing what it will do to you but he can’t do anything to change it, he can’t save you from heartbreak, knowing it will happen sooner or later.

You slump back in your seat, feeling pathetic for feeling this way, for holding on so desperately when there is only a small chance that there might be something and even that chance isn’t enough for you to go and find out the truth, not even when hope lingers in you after all the sweet moments you had with him.

Max looks at you in a way her brother once did, when he found out the truth and realized just how deep your feelings were, back then already.

You remember how the look in his eyes went from shock to confusion to sadness and sympathy.

And you remember how awkward and embarrassed you had felt that night.

It was raining outside, the windows were fogged and the smell of sex lingered in the room, you never knew what people meant by it when they mentioned that smell until that night. Your forehead was coated with sweat, your cheeks were glowing and feeling hot, your skin smelled like him, like his cologne and his aftershave, and your body felt different, not in a bad way, just in a foreign one.

You held the sheets tightly against your chest and looked out the window, watching as the rain paddled down the glass, a smile tugged at your lips and your chest wasn’t filled with sadness for once.

“Hey,” Billy said and pulled your attention back to him, “give me a smile.”

You turned your head to look at him, a giggle fell from your lips when you noticed the polaroid camera in his hands, his eyes were squinted and a smirk lingered on his face.

“Seriously?”

He took a picture of you before you reached forward and swatted the camera out of your face.

Billy leaned back from you and held the camera away so you couldn’t reach it, he laughed at the bashful expression on your face.

“Need a picture of your special first time,” he joked and laughed again when you rolled your eyes at him and blushed.

He took the picture out and started shaking it for reveal. He leaned back against your pillows and reached for his beer, drinking it while staring at you.

“Well, we are not doing that again,” he said and you knew that it would’ve offended many other girls, but not you, because you felt the same.

“Yeah, it didn’t feel right, did it?” You scrunched your nose.

“Not at all,” Billy laughed before his face grew serious as his eyes roamed your face, “do you feel alright?” He asked in concern because he noticed how distant you looked, like your mind was somewhere else or with someone else.

He straightened up and furrowed his brows at you, “who are you thinking about?”

You felt caught and you felt ashamed.

You never admitted your feelings for Steve to anyone, they didn’t even make sense so how could you even begin to describe them?

You looked down and closed your eyes, you pulled your brows together as though in pain and it only made him more curious.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?” Billy asked and dropped the polaroid camera and the picture on the mattress beside him. He placed the beer back on the nightstand and grabbed his pack of cigarettes instead, “is he ugly?”

His question made you snort, you opened your eyes again and looked at his serious face.

“No, he is not ugly, not in the slightest.”

His lips curled downwards for a moment as he nodded, “do I know him?” He asked before he placed a cigarette between his lips.

You only gave him a look and that was enough to confirm his question.

He hummed and kept staring at you with a curious look on his face, he lit up his cigarette and threw the lighter on the nightstand, taking a long drag before he blew the smoke out.

“I do, huh?” He chuckled and squinted his eyes at you, “are you gonna tell me or are you gonna let me guess?”

You smirked and shrugged at him, you held the blanket tighter against your chest and reached for the camera beside him, “guess, Billy,” you teased him as though your heart didn’t start pounding from all the nervousness inside of you.

“Jesus,” he sighed in annoyance, “is he popular or a loser?”

You shrugged and squinted your eye as you brought the camera up to your face and wasted no second to take a picture of him too, he didn’t seem to mind, not like you did.

He started saying names, random names of guys you weren’t even sure went to Hawkins High. You kept shaking your head and saying no, you felt surprised that Steve’s name hadn't left his lips yet.

“Huh, it’s not the drug dealer is it? What’s his name again?”

“Uh… You mean Eddie?”

He nodded and pointed his finger at you, “yeah, him.”

You shook your head, “no, he’s cute but no, he’s not really my type,” you mumbled and sighed, “probably would’ve been better if it was someone like him, he’s nice, at least.”

He hummed and stared at you, he fell quiet for a while and his face grew serious after a few minutes, then his eyes widened and he cursed under his breath.

“Fuck… girl, please don’t tell me that it’s King Steve.”

Your breath hitched in your throat and your face started burning beneath his gaze, you couldn’t stand to look into his eyes any longer so you broke eye contact and looked down at your hands in your covered lap.

“Shit…” He sighed and slumped back, looking at you in disbelief, like you had fallen in love with his arch nemesis.

“I know,” you mumbled in annoyance because you knew what he was about to say, “you don’t have to tell me how stupid I am, I already know that.”

Billy stayed quiet for a moment and stared at the pained expression on your face. Yeah, he was about to say something stupid about Steve, about his stupid hair and your feelings for him but when he looked closer – and he knew you pretty well at that point, he could see just how much pain lingered behind your eyes, how glassy they got and how your bottom lip wobbled just the slightest bit.

He was never the best with words and he certainly was never someone to give comfort, he didn’t even know how to, no one ever comforted him, only you did.

He bit his tongue and swallowed the bitter words that were about to leave his lips.

He opened his mouth but shut it again when he saw you wiping away a tear.

Billy sighed and ran a hand through his mullet, he pinched the bridge of his nose and rolled his eyes at the thought of the jock.

“It’s pretty serious isn’t it?”

You only nodded and said nothing.

“So… you’re like in love with him or some shit?”

“I guess so,” you whispered even though you knew for certain. “Feels like it’s tearing my heart apart or something every time I see him, every time he says something dumb to me.”

“How…?” He asked and sighed again, “shit, I knew you liked him, you wouldn’t have defended him every chance you got but I thought you were just being nice to that fucker… Jesus…”

You shook your head again and slowly looked up at your best friend, “I can’t give you an answer, Billy. I don’t know how it happened, it just… happened. That’s gonna sound so cheesy but… when I first saw him I just… I felt safe and comfortable… happy. He smiled at me when he passed me in the hallway and I just – I don’t know, I can’t explain this feeling and it doesn’t matter anyways, he turned out to be a dick who hates my guts so… I’ll get over these feelings someday.”

Billy didn’t believe your words and you didn’t either.

You have loved him at first sight and that never changed or lessened, your feelings kept getting worse and worse and it made no sense because he kept treating you badly.

You were infatuated with him, bewitched.

You expected Billy to judge you but he didn’t, you thought he would say bad things about Steve but he never did, at least not when it came to you and your feelings for him.

If anything, Billy encouraged you to act on your feelings, to get closer to him, to make a move and try.

And you did, but it only made everything worse.

And now, you stare at his sister and watch as she tries to do the same.

It went sideways the first time and you fear that it won’t go any different this time – yes, things have changed, you and Steve are something now, something you would have never seen coming a year before, especially after what happened when you did try to make a move on him. You just can not find it in yourself to even try, to gather all your confidence and use the sliver of hope to confess to him in hopes that he could feel the same, that you could be something more than what you are now.

You can feel that things have shifted into a different direction, the softness in his eyes, his gentle touches and acts of affection are proof of that and still, you fear rejection and losing this because this thing between you is just too fragile, too easy to break and ruin.

It’s not long ago that Steve couldn’t even bare to look at you without rolling his eyes or scoffing some cold words at you and you try not to think of them, to leave things in the past, to not go over his hurtful words again and again but something inside of you seems to manifest all the saddening and painful words your poor heart was attacked with in the past and you can’t fight off those memories, you try to but you can’t and it saddens you even more because the past few weeks with Steve, have been nothing but heavenly to you.

You woke up in his arms every morning, he held you through the night, woke you with kisses and cooked you breakfast, he held your hand and treated you as if you were his, like you were his girlfriend and he your boyfriend – you got a taste of something you always craved and longed for and that should bring you peace, it really should but he is showing you, giving you something that you know he will take away again when the time comes.

When you step into your house after dropping Max off at El’s, you make your way up to your bedroom and open your closet, looking for something comfortable to change into, when the navy blue color flashes in your peripheral vision. You grab a pair of your sleeping shorts and a random shirt of Steve’s, trying to ignore the dress that practically stares at you, forcing you to recall one of your worst memories.

You clutch your clean clothes to your chest and take a look at the pretty sundress you bought at the GAP store when Starcourt mall was still intact. You reach out to touch it, pinching the thin material between your thumb and your pointer finger, a sad smile tugs at your lip when you think back to the day you bought it – just to look pretty for him.

Your best friend kept encouraging you, filling you with hope that you could have a chance with Steve, that he wouldn’t say no to you if you tried to make a move, if you tried to ask him out, if you went after your feelings. Week after week had passed and Billy forced confidence onto you and pushed you towards a guy he didn’t even like.

You kept denying his words, you knew you had no chance with him, not even after you graduated from high school, not even after Steve had changed and his mean words became less harsh.

And yet, a part of you listened to Billy, that naive and hopeful part of you that really wanted her crush to like her back and give her the chance she always wanted.

You bought a pretty dress, you got your hair done and did your makeup, lighter and girlier than usual, you put on your favorite perfume and jewelry and you decided to give it a try – you shouldn’t have, you should’ve listened to your brain and not your heart.

The mall was bustling with people, kids were running around the water fountain, a group of young girls rushed past you, giggling in excitement as they carried their many shopping bags, you were standing in front of Scoops Ahoy, with your cheeks burning and your heart racing.

In all honesty, you had no idea what you were doing, you came up with no plan before you came here, you just woke up that morning and decided that Billy was right, that you could take a chance and go after what you wanted – you had nothing to lose, except for your dignity. Besides, you were no longer in school, if things went wrong, you could easily avoid him.

You had taken a look inside, only a few teenagers sat by the window, it wasn’t crowded, not in the slightest. You saw him, he was standing behind the counter with his back turned to you as he was talking to his co-worker who spoke to him through the small window between them.

Your heart skipped a beat when he turned to the side, a smile lingered on his face as he nodded along to the music that played on the radio.

You could have still turned back, you could have still left without being seen, without having made a fool of yourself. But you didn’t, you didn’t turn around, you didn’t change your mind, you walked into your own demise.

You took a deep breath and walked up to the counter, you twisted the ring on your finger and focused on him. He looked so good, even in his silly uniform, he looked so pretty. His sailor hat was laying on the counter and he was twisting the ice cream scooper in his hand, he only turned around when his co-worker, Robin, nudged her chin at you before she turned her back to him and disappeared further into the room.

You blinked and breathed heavily as you realized that you didn’t even know what to say, you didn’t prepare for this, you were never good with words or conversing with boys, you didn’t know how to flirt – well, you did, Billy taught you, but you had never used your newly learned skill before.

And when Steve turned around to face, it was too late to think of what to say, anyways.

“Ahoy–” his cheerful words cut short and the smile on his face fell when he saw you, “oh, it’s you.”

That should have been enough to change your mind, to make you turn back and run the other way.

“Hi Steve.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped and he slid his scooper back into place, he put his hands on the counter and sighed.

“Blondie,” he nodded.

You were too nervous to see the way he looked at you, the way his eyes roamed your face and your styled hair, your glowing skin and your pretty dress, the way his cheeks changed color as he kept staring at you.

“What can I get for you?” He asked and cleared his throat as he gestured to the many ice cream flavors.

You shifted and tilted your head to the side, your hair fell from your shoulder and down your back. He looked again, at your exposed skin, at the dainty chain around your neck.

“I uh… I’m… I don’t know yet,” you stuttered and felt yourself growing more nervous than before.

Steve sighed and looked away from you, “of course,” he murmured under his breath.

Your cheeks burned hotly, your eyes felt heavy and you looked down as you already felt the regret rushing through your body. You wanted to say something, anything, but all your words were caught in your throat, everything you would’ve said if he liked you a little more were stuck and frozen.

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath, you looked at his face and wondered why you even let Billy encourage you and talk you into doing this. The few ‘nice’ interactions you had with Steve meant nothing. The smile he wore on his lips before could never be directed at you, the soft look in his hazel eyes disappeared the moment he saw you, the tone in his voice changed in an instant.

“How are you…?” You asked, cringing at yourself, at the question, at the shakiness in your voice.

He looked back at you and raised his eyebrows, an unamused chuckle fell from his lips.

“What do you want?” He asked and shrugged at you, “we’re out of high school, we don’t have to see each other anymore and I know you’re not here for ice cream, you usually don’t have an issue making a decision, so why are you here, Blondie?”

You could not help but draw back as a cold shudder ran down your spine, you blinked and looked down.

You missed the look of guilt that flashed in his eyes when he watched you step back and you closed your eyes for a moment, your brows scrunched together as though in pain.

He was always this way, you knew what you were stepping into, you knew how he would react and you couldn’t blame him, you weren’t exactly nice to him in school and snapped back at him every time he threw a rude comment at you.

You swallowed and took a deep breath, you looked back up at him, at the hazel eyes you always loved so much.

Steve huffed and he took a deep breath, he stared at you intensely and you didn’t know what it meant, a part of you thought that it was his hatred, the other was foolishly hopeful.

“Yeah… I know but I just… I thought that maybe we could,” you paused as your heart felt as though it was about to tear from your chest any moment. He looked at you so intensely, he made you feel so small beneath his gaze.

“We could what?” He asked a little too harshly and made you cower back.

“This was a bad idea,” you whispered to yourself and took another step back, “I’m sorry I just…”

“What’s up with you?” Steve mumbled and furrowed his brows at you, confused at the side of you he never met before. “Did you miss being annoying so much that you had to come bother me at work, Blondie?”

You heard the teasing in his voice, you saw the sliver of amusement in his eyes but you really only focused on the way your heart clenched in pain and how regret took on full control.

You rolled your eyes, not at him but at yourself, at your foolishness.

Of course he doesn’t want to see you, why would he?

He never liked you and he certainly wouldn’t start now, he would probably laugh into your face if you asked for what you came for – a date.

Your cheeks were nearly hurting from all the blushing, your heart was skipping and pounding, your hands felt clammy. You never felt the need to cry in front of him, you never felt vulnerable around him because your walls were always high up and guarded by a second layer, now you came without protection and decided to let yourself be vulnerable for once, only to feel like breaking down from the embarrassment that was gnawing at you.

“Cat got your tongue? That’s new…” He chuckled and stared you down still, eyebrows still furrowed and lips pursed. His hardened expression fell a little and something else took over, something you couldn’t read. “Did someone stand you up?”

Steve wasn’t used to your silence so you weren’t surprised about the confusion on his face. You looked at him again and caught him eyeing you up and down, his eyes lingered on your dress for longer than necessary.

His question went unanswered and he grew frustrated with you.

“Can’t blame them if they did,” he mumbled, throwing daggers at your heart.

That stung.

Normally his words would’ve angered you and you would’ve shot back straight away, despite your feelings for him, you wouldn’t have kept quiet or struggled to say something back but not today, today you let him hurt you – deep down you knew this would happen, this was always how you interacted, he said something mean and then you would too. His words were nothing new and yet they cut deep.

You swallowed hard and dug your nails into your palms, your breathing quickened and you knew you had to get out of here but something kept you standing, you felt as though you were frozen.

Steve coughed awkwardly and looked away for a moment, he grabbed his scooper again, “so… wanna eat your feelings or what?” He asked and pointed at the many flavors, eyes back on you.

“No–”

“Hi, Steve!”

You nearly flinched at the high pitched voice and had to hold back the eyeroll when you saw the girl next to you, who didn’t bother to hide the dirty looks she gave you before she returned her attention back to him, flashing him a sickly sweet smile that made his eyes light up.

The girl used to be on the cheer team, very popular and gossipy, unkind and one of the most unpleasant people you have met – and she usually spends her Saturday nights in Billy’s sheets.

Steve’s eyes were no longer on you, instead they were stuck on the pretty girl beside you, he eyed her up and down, not with distaste or annoyance but with interest and a smirk on his lips.

“Hey, how are you?” He asked and leaned against the counter, a flirty look crossed his face, “you look amazing, Olivia.”

She giggled and twirled her hair around her finger, she licked her lips as she eyed him like she was hungry.

“So do you.”

Steve smirked at her and chuckled softly.

At that point, you didn’t know what you felt because your sadness ran so deep, you didn’t have it in yourself to feel jealous anymore.

You just felt like a fool.

And you felt angry, at yourself and at him for being so horrible to you. Olivia’s giggles did nothing to make you feel less horrible, like nails on chalkboard her voice was irritating you in the worst way possible, so before leaving, you turned towards her and when she met your gaze with a fake smile, you matched the look on her face.

“Wouldn’t waste your time here, Olivia,” you said her name, mockingly and looked her up and down, not feeling jealous over the ugly sandals or the green skirt she was wearing. “He only flirts to pass time. Besides, isn’t that your boyfriend waiting for you?” You asked and tilted your head at the guy in front of the store, he was already glaring at Steve.

Olivia clenched her jaw and glared at you, huffing in annoyance which gave you a little satisfaction.

“Better not leave him waiting or someone might tell him what or who you do every Saturday night.”

Her pale face grew even… paler and you couldn’t even bite back the smirk, despite the blow that was just delivered to your heart.

Steve raised his eyebrows as he looked between you, he saw the way you blinked, fastly, he saw how glassy your eyes were despite the look on your face.

You turned back to him and looked at him with a straight face, “you usually don’t mind sharing your girls though, do you? So… go nuts,” you shrugged before you turned around and walked away from him, not planning to look back.

You should have, you should have looked back because then you would’ve seen the guilt in his eyes, the regret that crossed his features, the tension that slipped off his shoulders and the disinterest that took over for the girl in front of him. The sadness that flashed in his eyes for missing an opportunity, for letting you go like this.

But you didn’t, you kept going and you rushed back out into the bustling mall, you blinked away the tears and made your way back home. You tore the dress off your skin the moment you stepped into your room.

And you never wore it again.

You roll your eyes at yourself for feeling pain for the girl you were a year before, for still hurting because of the things he said to you, for the way he looked at you, for the way he flirted with a different girl in front of you.

The past doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t matter, especially not now, not anymore – not after what you have gone through together, not after he changed, not after he started treating you differently, not after all the nights and mornings you have spent with each other, not after all the gentle touches, not after the way he kissed you and held you close that one night, not after he called you late at night just to hear your voice.

He is different now, you are different now, you aren’t the teenagers you were a year back.

The past shouldn’t hurt.

You slam the closet door shut and walk out of your room and into the bathroom, you start the shower, letting the water warm up while you take off your clothes. You feel frustration bubbling inside of you, the conversation with Max and her encouraging words triggered all the memories that you refused to think about in these past few months.

The day at Scoops Ahoy made you sad and angry, it made you want to never see him again, you avoided the mall after that day and you didn’t see much of him after. You hated yourself for hoping, for going after your feelings, for believing that you could have a chance after Billy’s encouragement – Billy who pushed you away only a week later, with harsh words and a mean look on his face, he pushed you away when you needed him the most and you felt alone again, so alone. At that time, you didn’t understand why he did it, why he didn’t want you in his life anymore, you didn’t know that he was just trying to protect you from the upside down, from himself.

And then he died and you lost yourself completely.

You drowned your sorrows in alcohol and kissed the lips of strangers, you let them touch you in hopes that you would feel something, you woke up in their beds and hated yourself after because no matter how good they were to you, how nice the conversations went, how much they made you laugh, how nice they made you feel, they couldn’t make you forget about the friend you lost, they couldn’t make you forget about him, they couldn’t give you what you wanted, what you needed, what you longed for.

You searched for glimpses of Steve in every man you kissed and you hated yourself for it because you wondered why you even felt that way for someone who couldn’t even stand you, who hated you with all his being.

What made you fall in love with him?

What tied you to him the way it did?

Because he never gave you a reason to fall in love with him back then, he treated you unkindly from the moment you met and yet you couldn’t help your feelings, you couldn’t help but adore him, you couldn’t help but admire him.

You even felt your own heart break when you found out about what Nancy did to him, how she broke his heart so carelessly, how she cheated on him with her friend.

And you felt it break even more when he still wanted her, even after everything she did to him, he loved hard, just like you did, like you do. No matter what she did to him, he still loved her.

And now, you can’t help but ask yourself the question that you have always avoided.

Does he still have feelings for her?

You wonder if he still wants her, if he still wishes for a future with her, if she is still the one he craves by his side.

He doesn’t look at her the way he used to, not anymore, he doesn’t seem sad around her the way he did after she rejected him and yet, you still wonder, if you are just someone he passes time with while he hopes that she might change her mind in the future. If you are the person he finds comfort in because he can feel that you love him the way she never did.

Are you the replacement? The filler?

You feel yourself crashing, the water feels hot on your skin but you feel the shudder running down your spine, the goosebumps that rise on your skin make you shiver, your throat tightens and your eyes blur with tears as your heart clenches in your chest.

You wipe your tears in anger even though your whole face is wet from the water pouring down on you, you turn off the water and open the curtain in anger, you reach for your towel and wrap it around your body.

You wipe the fog off the mirror and look at your reflection, at the marks on your neck, at the tears running down your cheeks.

Are you stupid for crying when you knew exactly what you were signing up for?

You always knew what this was to him and you were satisfied with it because you just wanted him, no matter how, you wanted him and you got him.

But you can’t stop your heart from aching because somehow, you fell even harder for him and you can’t stop from hurting when you think about what you are to him and what you might never be.

Just sex.

A friend… nothing more than a friend, that’s what he said, you are just a friend.

The confidence that only started growing inside of you not too long ago begins to crumble and you don’t know how to stop it from falling apart.

You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and the thoughts that drive you mad. You take a look around, at the things he left in your bathroom, his toothbrush next to yours, his body wash and shampoo in your shower, his Farrah Fawcett hairspray that no one can know about.

Would all this be here if you didn’t mean something to him?

Would he have made space in one of his drawers just for your stuff if this meant nothing?

Would he have let you in if he still wanted someone else?

Does he even still want someone else?

You huff in annoyance for letting yourself fall into this spiral of overthinking. You feel as though all these questions come to haunt you for pushing them away all these weeks and now you feel a headache coming and you grow irritated with yourself and with your insecurities.

You shut them down as best as you can and busy yourself with other things, you moisturize your skin and blow dry your hair. You put on your fresh clothes and comb through your hair before you leave the bathroom, it’s much darker in the hallway than expected, the grayish clouds hide the sun and the sound of thunder rumbles in the far distance, drops of rain already paint your windows.

Goosebumps rise on your skin and an unsettling feeling sinks into the pit of your stomach. You feel the cold wind on your exposed skin from the open window in your bedroom, you make your way inside, pushing the blowing curtains away as you reach forward to shut the window.

Lightning surges through the sky, deep purple colors flash in the darkening clouds far away. You would’ve felt your heart dropping by now if you didn’t notice the burgundy car parked in your driveway, the door opens and he steps out, a second later, a brown paper bag in his hand and something tucked beneath his arm, he shuts the door and locks it, wasting no time to find shelter under the roof on your porch as it starts raining harder.

Instead of dropping, your heart skips a beat, forgetting all about the pain it just felt from the saddening thoughts in your mind.

Through all your overthinking and pondering, you forgot that he was coming over.

You shut the window and rush downstairs, opening the door as he rings the doorbell for a second time. A frown lingers on his face but it disappears when his eyes lock with yours as soon as you open the door and a smile tugs at his lips instead.

“Hey Blondie,” he breathes and rushes inside when you step aside to let him in, “looks like the end of the world out there.”

“Hi…”

You close the door and lock it before you turn around to face him.

Steve kicks off his shoes and throws the movie tapes that were tucked beneath his arm on the counter where you keep your keys and sunglasses, he puts his keys into the little bowl and then he steps towards you and reaches for your hand, he pulls you towards him and takes you by surprise when he leans down and smacks his lips against yours, kissing you shortly. Greeting you with a kiss, something he had never done before.

Your eyes widen a little and your throat tightens for a different reason now, you stare at him, unable to hide the surprised look on your face.

And Steve, he furrows his brows and his smile falls a little, not because of your widened eyes but because of the glassiness in them, he frowns as worry swirls in his chest.

“Hey,” he murmurs and lets go of your hand to cup the side of your face, letting his thumb linger on your cheek, “is everything okay?”

You blink.

Your heart jumps at his action, at the question, at the concern in his soft brown eyes. You breathe in deeply, you open and close your mouth a few times, unable to find the right words.

You didn’t cry all that much, it’s not so visible on your face, is it?

“Did something happen?” He asks, a little softer this time.

You shake your head, “n-no, I’m fine, just tired, I’m probably coming down with something…” You lie.

“In the summer?”

You force a smile and look down, shrugging, “guess I’m not that strong…”

“Well, then let me take care of you,” he whispers and caresses your cheek.

You wonder if he knows what he does to you with such words and actions, you sometimes wish he knew that your heart leaps every time he does such things, maybe then he would take pity on you and not fill you with so much hope, even in your worst moments.

You nod at him and let him take your hand back in his, he gives you a sweet smile that nearly makes you crumble.

“So how was your day?” Steve asks as he tugs you along with him and leads you into your kitchen.

You swallow the lump in your throat and shrug, “good, I went shopping with Max and then we ate lunch with Eddie.”

Steve smiles at that, he places the brown paper bag on the kitchen table and turns to face you.

The soft look in his eyes and the smile on his lips makes you feel guilty for the thoughts that rushed through your mind just moments before. This side of him is the only one you have known in the past few weeks, the gentle and sweet side you never thought you’d ever get to see.

“I got us dinner, burgers and fries but I got the fancy ones from Enzo’s,” he chuckles and lets go of your hand, stepping away from you and towards the sink. “Did you find anything?” He asks as he runs the water and uses the hand soap you always leave in your kitchen to wash his hands.

You furrow your brows at his question, feeling a little lost and confused.

“Hm?”

“When you went shopping.”

“Oh.” You nod your head, you went back to the jewelry store to look for new rings and the necklace you fell in love with but it was already gone, it would’ve looked pretty with the dress you picked out for Joyce’s and Hopper’s wedding. “Yeah, I finally got a dress for the wedding… oh and shoes… and makeup.”

Steve smiles fondly when he turns back to you, “what color is your dress?”

“Uh, it’s black,” you say and walk over to the fridge to grab a drink for you both, “sounds boring, right? But it’s really pretty and I got some pink heels to go with it.”

“It doesn’t sound boring,” he shakes his head at you and carries two plates to the kitchen table, “besides, you look gorgeous in anything.”

You freeze.

Your eyes grow wide and your cheeks start burning.

Gorgeous?

He surely never called you that before, especially not after greeting you with a kiss on your lips.

“T-Thanks, Steve.”

He hums in response and you look back at him to see him placing the food on the plates, putting more fries on yours than on his. His brows are pulled together in concentration, his lips pressed together, his hair looks a little messed up from the wind but he looks so cute like this.

And you can’t help but think of how intimate this all is, him kissing you after walking in, him asking you about your day and the color of your dress, him plating your dinner.

You can’t help but hate yourself for all the overthinking and reminiscing of the things that happened in the past.

You close the fridge with a sigh and make your way back to the table, placing the coke in front of his plate.

“Thanks, Honey.”

You give him a smile and sit down across from him, looking down at the delicious food in front of you, “I’m horrible, you always cook for us or order something and I never do anything.”

Steve shakes his head, glaring at you, “you’re not horrible and that’s not true, you cooked breakfast and dinner before.”

You pop open your soda can, “yeah, I made french toast and sandwiches.”

“Yeah and it was amazing, now shut up and eat your dinner, kid,” he says playfully, his eyes glinting with amusement when you laugh.

You push your hair out of your face and pick up the burger, unaware of the fond smile that tugs at his lips as he watches you take a bite. His eyes roam your face, your eyes are a little red and he can’t help but think that you lied to him about feeling sick, you look fine, you just look a little… sad and it makes him feel upset because he knows that you won’t talk about it, especially not with him but he wants to be there for you, he wants to give you a shoulder to cry on, to lean on, he wants to give you comfort.

He looks down at the shirt on your body and when he recognizes it, his eyes lighten up and warmth blooms in his chest, it’s his shirt.

He bites back the smile as he looks down and starts eating too, welcoming the comfortable silence between you as the rain paddles down the windows, the thunder still crashing somewhere, far away.

You flinch every time a loud crash booms through the sky, it’s nothing new to him, he noticed it the very first time it happened. Every time the sky turns a little darker and the wind picks up, you fidget and get anxious. He wonders if it’s a fear you have taken with you from the upside down or if it is something that accompanied you before, he never dared to ask before.

Every time he showed up during a storm, your eyes were filled with fear and your hands were shaking. You would relax and calm down a few minutes after his arrival, his presence seems comforting to you and it’s why he rushes to get to you every time he sees the dark clouds and hears the thunder.

“Hey Blondie?”

You look up at him through your lashes and raise your eyebrows, “yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

You put down your burger and reach for your drink, nodding at him.

“Have you always been afraid of storms?”

You seem to be taken aback as you stare at him and blink, not moving or saying anything just yet and he fears that he crossed a line.

“I just, I noticed that you flinch at every crash.”

You always tried to hide your reactions, not wanting to seem scared or weak, and usually no one ever noticed things about you that you didn’t want them to see but Steve seems to see right through you.

His hazel eyes aren’t filled with judgment or amusement, just with curiosity and… a hint of concern?

You take a sip of your drink and sit back, relaxing your shoulders as you look into his eyes.

“Yeah, I just, I guess it got stuck with me from when I was a kid,” you chuckle and roll your eyes, “I know, embarrassing right?”

He shakes his head and frowns, “no, not at all.”

“Honestly, it wasn’t even that bad when I was a kid, it got worse when I was a teen. My parents would go on these business trips sometimes and trusted my sister to look after me but she used those opportunities to go hang out with friends or go to parties or whatever else she was doing,” you explain, not looking away from him, “and I hated being alone, it probably didn’t help that I watched horror movies every time I was alone.”

Steve chuckles at that, though he can’t help but feel sad for you.

His parents left too, hell, they still do. To know that you were in a similar situation as him when you were younger fills him with regret, knowing that he could have been there for you and you for him, if he just wasn’t such a dick to you.

“I just always got so anxious whenever I heard the howling wind and the loud thunder, it felt like the fear paralyzed me in a way… I don’t know, does that even make sense?”

Steve nods, “yeah, yeah it makes sense.”

But now he wonders how the hell you jumped into the water to save him, after everything that you had been told about the upside down, about the storms, about the monsters, you still jumped into the water when he was pulled under. You knew what was waiting for you on the other side and you still did it.

“B-But how… I… the upside down was filled with storms?”

You would’ve jumped into a hurricane if it meant saving his life.

“I wasn’t going to prioritize my fears over your life, Steve.”

Steve feels a little stunned, he knows how paralyzing fears can get, how they can hold you back from everything, but you, you didn’t care about your fears, about yourself, knowing that it could’ve ended badly for you down there, you cared more for him than you did for yourself, even when he was nothing but an asshole to you who treated you like shit.

If he knew you, the real you, he wouldn’t have been so harsh to you, he wouldn’t have been so… cold. He would have never said a single bad word to you but he thought you were cruel and he thought you hated him so he gave you a side of him that didn’t even exist, it was an act, nothing more, nothing less and he regrets it more than anything.

He regrets every word he said to you before this. And he feels as though he doesn’t deserve this, you, not even in this way, not after everything he said to you and about you.

He wants nothing more than to take it all back, to make it up to you.

And as you sit there in front of him, with red rimmed eyes that prove that you have cried before he came here, he wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms and apologize, over and over again.

But instead of doing that and risking making you uncomfortable, he slides his plate closer to you and changes seats so he is right next to you, he ignores the confused look you give him and the question you were gonna ask before he grabs your face and kisses you, making you gasp in surprise.

You melt into the kiss quickly, despite the confusion that lingers in you. You place your palm on the side of his neck and kiss him back softly.

And just like that, your worries and your anxious thoughts fade away into nothing, his touch, his kisses, he makes you forget about all the sadness that gnawed at you before, for a moment, they don’t matter and they won’t be back till later.

For a moment, you’re allowed to feel hopeful and confident again.

When his hand finds your waist and his lips move slowly and softly with yours, when he hums into the kiss and pulls you closer, when he makes you feel special.

Steve’s eyelashes flutter when he pulls away and opens his eyes again, smiling softly as he pecks your lips once more before he moves back, like he didn’t just steal your breath and made your heart pound wildly.

“What was that for?” You breathe.

“To calm you down from the storm,” he shrugs, chuckling at his own words.

“Why do you think a kiss would calm me down?”

“I don’t know, I read it in a magazine,” he lies and looks down at his food with rosy cheeks and a sheepish smile.

A giggle falls from your lips.

“Right,” he nods and points a finger at you, still smiling, “it’s scientifically proven that kisses help with the distraction.”

“Mhmm,” you hum and nod, “right, totally yeah.”

Instead of tears, you’re biting back a smile now, falling right back into the state you are always in when you’re around him – into bliss.

You continue eating and you ask him about his day, you push your plate towards him, sharing your fries with him once he practically inhales the ones on his plate. He keeps on talking, the whole time you sit at the kitchen table you ate your meals alone at, he tells you all the gossip he’s heard from Robin, keeping you entertained and making you giggle, making you forget about the raging storm behind you or the pain you felt before, he makes you forget about everything.

And you thought this would be like any other night you spent with him.

But it wasn’t.

Steve didn’t sleep with you that night, and you didn’t initiate it either. The storm was at full blast over your house, and Steve made sure to have the TV at full volume when watching the movies he stole. He mentioned Keith was busy trying to talk to a female customer and he didn’t even look at Steve when he shoved them down his shirt.

You laughed with him, giggled, and – are you the replacement? Are you really? Or are you actually in his heart?

The past tells you that you are the filler for the holes in his heart, but the present– the present tells you otherwise. It tells you that there might be a chance. His smile tells you that he likes spending time with you. The frown over his eyes when something happens to you tells you he is worried for you. The way he is possessive over you tells you that he considers you his.

Is it foolish to believe in the present? Is it foolish to simply forget about the past? Is it foolish you cannot and won’t let go of him? Is it foolish to simply love him, with no reason at all?

And you just know… that Billy never once said it was.

Billy who wouldn’t want you to give up. Billy who wouldn’t want you to go back into the past. Billy who would want you to keep living in the present. Billy who would still encourage you if he were here. Billy who helped you pick that dress at the GAP to shoot your shot that day at Scoops.

Billy never gave up on your love for Steve.

You shouldn’t either.

And you won’t.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #dwoht — chapter nineteen #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington angst #stranger things angst

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