#stancy x henderson!reader

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

All the Olives in the World. . .

Stancy x GNReader, Stancy x henderson!reader

You didn't really think anything of Steve Harrington until after he became a part of your life. You didn't hate him like some people who see someone so attractive do. You could see the appeal, but he hadn't been your type. No, your type has always been Nancy Wheeler. You and Barb had always talked about it at great lengths, but when she died, you had no one else to talk about it with. Not even Nancy, who had inadvertently pushed you away in favor of Steve. You could have easily hated him, but for whatever reason, you didn't. Instead, you found a friend in Robin Buckley. It changed again when you saw Steve protect Lucas and your brother from Billy Hargrove. It had shaken something inside of your head. Fast forward, and it had all changed again.

"Hey! Watch it!" You cursed as Dustin pushed past you into Family Video. "Butthead."

Nancy was leaning against the counter, obviously flirting with Steve. You smiled. It was good to see them together again, for you in particular. You should be jealous, right? No, instead, there was only longing for the both of them now. You just had to go and make things even more complicated.

"Dude! What did I say about running in here?" Steve asked.

"Okay, I just wanted to ask you one last time if you wanted to join Hellfire?" Dustin asked.

"Look, I told you I like watching you guys, but I don't think I'd be very helpful," Steve said.

"I think you'd be good at it," Nancy said.

"Yeah?" Steve asked.

"Yeah."

"I'll think about it," Steve said.

You snorted as Dustin threw up his hands, looking at them in disbelief. Steve and Nancy really had no right to be so cute.

"Robin in the break room?" You asked.

"Yeah," Steve said.

You had just opened the break room door when Steve called out your name. You whirled around so fast that you ended up running into the very door you had just opened.

"Oh my God! Are you okay?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you groaned, clutching your forehead.

"You're bleeding!" Steve exclaimed.

"It's just a scratch, Steve," you said. "What's up?"

"Well, I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out this evening," Steve said.

"I probably would have said yes, but now I think I might have a headache later," you said. "Thanks."

You turned around, ready to enter the break room when your brother spoke up.

"You ever notice how they're always clumsy around the both of you?" Dustin said.

You groaned and walked into the room to find Robin listening to her Walkman with a book in her hand as she ate her lunch. She put down her book at the sight of you and pushed her headphones down around her neck.

"Jesus, what the hell happened to you?" Robin asked. "You look like shit."

"Thanks, Robin, you look pretty today, too," you said sarcastically.

Robin rolled her eyes and pulled out the first aid kit.

"Seriously, what happened?" Robin asked asked as she began tending to your wounds.

"I have a problem," you groaned.

"Like a code red situation?" Robin asked. "Because we just got closed the gates to hell, I am not up for anything else. I simply refuse. I am done! Finite!"

"No, it's nothing like that," you sigh. "You ever have a crush on two people at the same time?"

"Can't say that I have," Robin said. "Oh! This is a romantic situation! Oh, finally! I could never figure out what your deal is. I wasn't even sure if you were interested in all of that, which would have been totally fine with me if you weren't, you know, and I - "

"Robin, platonic love of my life, I get it," you laughed. "You support me no matter what."

Robin plopped down in the seat next to you after she got done bandaging your forehead.

"So, what's up?" Robin asked. "Who are these people you are so smitten with?"

"Okay, promise not to judge me?" you asked.

"Cross my hearts and hope to regenerate," Robin said.

"I keep telling you that you and Steve are not timelords, Robin," you said in amusement.

"You're just jealous of our regenerative abilities," Robin replied.

"Whatever," you said, letting out a breathy laugh. "Okay. . .it's Steve and Nancy."

"Steve and Nancy?!" Robin squeaked in surprised.

"Yeah, I just - I like them so much! At first, it was just Nancy, you know, and then Steve came a long. Suddenly, all the songs made sense. I mean, they're stubborn as hell and brave. They're willing to do whatever it takes to save the people they love. They're both so smart in their own ways, and it's just amazing how different but the same they are. I love that they fell in love again, and I know it's weird, but I want to be a part of that too," you rambled.

"You really are spending too much time with me," she said in amusement. "It really makes sense now, though. You have become terribly unbalanced around them."

"I know," you groaned. "I just want them to hold me and kiss me but also do other stuff to me. I just know that if I'm in their arms, I'd feel incredibly safe."

"Wow, holy shit, you're in love with them," Robin said.

"Crazy, right?" You asked.

"Yeah, but I find that the best things in life usually are," Robin said. "You going to tell them?"

"I don't know. . .I don't want to ruin our friendship," you said.

"Well, at this point, you're going to ruin your friendship by being so klutzy that you trip, break your neck, and die," she said.

"Jeeze, Robin, don't sugarcoat it," you snapped.

"You know that I'm right. Look, they're not going to judge you for it," Robin said. "If anything, they'd probably be flattered. There is nothing wrong with telling someone you love them."

"I can't do it," you shook your head. "I won't. After everything we've been through, I'm not going to do anything to risk ruining what we've got. It took us all a while for three of us just to be friends."

Robin stared at you, frustrated. You shrugged and looked away.

"Aren't you the one who convinced me that it was worth it to risk telling Vickie how I feel?" Robin asked. "And didn't it work out?"

"That's different," you mumbled.

"Fucking how?" Robin asked. "Because it's a couple you're in love with?"

"How do you even go about hitting on a couple?" You asked thoughtfully, and then you shook your head. "It doesn't matter. I like how it is now."

You made quick work of stealing Robin's Walkman and putting the headphones over your ears. You groaned when you heard Africa by Toto begin to play. It was Steve and Nancy's unofficial song. Along with Fire and Rain. You listened to it, though, with your arms crossed. Meanwhile, Robin was eating angrily in your direction. Every chomp was over exaggerated, with a glare on Robin's face as she chewed in frustration and confusion as though she were trying to figure out a complicated puzzle. Finally, she finished her lunch and stared at the table with a sigh. She pushed the headphones off of your ears.

"Okay, I won't push you," she said softly. "If you're not ready, then you're not ready."

"Thank you," you said gratefully.

"But you should get used to being around them without tripping over your feet," Robin said. "I'm hanging out with them this afternoon. Steve’s cooking, and he wants it to be a nice evening where we put on our nicest clothes. Unfortunately, Argyle and Jonathan couldn't make it. Vickie has to work. So, it's just going to be the four of us. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Yeah," you mutter.

That was how you ended up cursing Robin out later. Nosy bitch, you had thought affectionately. Here you were, in your nicest clothes that were the perfect mixture of your favorite material and your favorite colors. They fit quite nicely. You paused on Steve’s doorstep for a moment before taking a breath and knocking. Steve opened the door, looking good in his nicest blue sweater and tightest pair of pants. Did it suddenly get hot in here?

"Hey, you look nice," Steve said.

"Thanks, so do you," you said.

"Come in," Steve said stepping aside to let you in. "Oh, you should probably know something."

"What?" You asked as brushed by him.

"Uh, Robin can't make it. She forgot she had plans with Vickie," Steve shrugged as he closed the door.

You froze, looking at him. What? Didn't Robin say that Vickie was working? You stared at the closed door. There was no escape. You cursed Robin in your head. You were going to get her back for this.

"I, uh, I guess it's just the three of us," You said.

"Yeah, I guess so," he said, grinning. "Don't worry. Nancy and I will try not to make you feel like a third wheel. We can keep our hands to ourselves."

Please don't, you thought. You were led into the kitchen where Nancy was setting the table. God, she looked beautiful in her purple dress. You always thought she looked good in purple.

"Hey, you look great," Nancy said.

"So, do you," you said.

"Thanks," she said with a grateful smile.

They all settled down to eat and talked politely with them before Nancy started talking about Emerson. She really loved it there, but at the same time, she missed everyone here, especially you and Steve. You tried not to choke on a piece of food when she said that. It didn't mean anything, did it?

"I just can't believe Robin bailed on us after making us dress up," Nancy said.

Hold up. . .this was her idea? You should have known.

"She told me Vickie was working," you scowled. "And that Steve wanted us to dress up."

"Okay, I feel like we're being set up for something," Steve said.

"More like I'm being set up for something," you sighed.

"What does that mean?" Nancy asked.

You sighed again and put your fork down. It felt like butterflies were eating you from the inside out.

"I have to tell you guys something, and you have to like promise not to hate me," you said. "Or think differently of me."

"We never would," Nancy said softly.

"I, uh, kind of been in love with you both for a long time now," you swallowed nervously. "And I wish I could be a part of your relationship. I know that's probably weird, and you can process it however you want. I just thought you should know."

The silence was awkward. It's too awkward. You had to do something. You went back to eating even though you were no longer hungry. Steve and Nancy went back to eating as well. The silence grew more uncomfortable as time went by. Finally, Nancy cleared her throat, and you looked up hopefully.

"We just never really thought about you like that," Nancy said, and it was like a blow to your heart. "Right?"

"Uh, yeah, right," Steve asked, looking at Nancy doubtfully.

"Uh. Right, of course not," you sighed. "I'm sorry. This was a mistake. I'm just going to go."

You pushed yourself out of your chair and hurried out the door. You could heart Steve and Nancy calling your name, but you didn't want them to see you cry. It was hard to face them after that. You ignored their calls, didn't bother going into Family Video, and whenever you saw them out in the wild, you managed to run away successfully. You knew it was childish and cowardly, but you also knew that you couldn't face them without dealing with the hurt. You just needed it to fade along with the feelings, and then you could face them.

"You're going to have seen them eventually," Robin said, as she prawled out on your bed.

"Evetually, but not today," you said, as you laid next to her.

It was several weeks later, and so far, you had managed to keep hanging out with Robin. Although, you knew that'd probably change now that Eddie and Chrissy had rolled back into town.

"Well, your brother keeps pestering me about why you don't want to see them," Robin said. "It's quite frankly annoying."

"It's your fault for sticking your nose where it didn't belong," you huffed.

"And it's your fault for not sucking it up and just talking to them," Robin said, and then she sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. I thought for sure they would feel the same."

"It's not your fault," you said with a sigh. "You were just trying to help."

Silence fell over the both of you. Suddenly, a loud knocking came from the front door. You both jumped. You heard Dustin open the door.

"Steve! Nancy!" Dustin exclaimed exclaimed.

"Is your sibling home?" Nancy asked.

"Oh, yeah, definitely! Are you here to fix whatever this because it's driving me crazy!" Dustin yelled.

"Yeah, we are," Steve said.

"Oh no!" You whispered to Robin. "Stall them."

"Why? What are you going to do?" Robin asked.

"Leg it out the window," you whispered.

"What? That's crazy. Besides, you left your keys in the living room," Robin said.

"Shit. I'll take my bike," you said.

You quickly shoved your feet into your shoes and grabbed your backpack before climbing out the window. Oh, the things you would do to avoid embarrassment. You crawled underneath the other windows and sprinted towards the garage. You took down demogorgons, demobats, and pseudo Freddy Krueger, but you couldn't face getting your heart broken by Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler. It was painfully funny. You snuck around the side of the garage and entered through the side door. You carefully grabbed your bike and pushed it out the door. You put your backpack on and rode off, enjoying the wind wipping through your hair. Freedom.

You rode your bike to the diner that opened up a few blocks away, locking it up on the bike rack out front. You walked in and ordered your favorite milkshake before sliding into a booth with your back to the door. You focused solely on the milkshake, just trying to forget what a fucking coward you were. You knew that Dustin and Robin were going to give you hell for this. Knowing Nancy and Steve, they were still going to be at the house when you got back. Maybe you shouldn't return. Just as you were about to mentally scold yourself, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You looked up to find Eddie and Chrissy looking down at you.

"Hey, I thought that was you. You here by your lonesome or are you waiting for someone?" Chrissy asked.

"I'm alone," you said somberly.

"It sounds someone's trying to drown their sorrows in a glass of milkshake," Eddie said.

"I am," you pouted.

You watched them as they slid into the sear across from you.

"And what are you running from?" Eddie asked, and you looked at him. "If anyone is an expert on running away, it's me."

"Heartbreak," you muttered.

"Heartbreak, huh?" He winced. "That sucks."

"Who broke your heart?" Chrissy asked.

"It's my own fault, really," you replied. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"Oh! I know two people who walked right in who will cheer you right up!" Eddie exclaimed. "It's Steve and Nancy."

You quickly ducked down, heart racing your chest.

"Did they see me?" You ask.

"No," Chrissy said.

"Good," you said and dove completely under the table. "Fucking hide me."

"How?" Eddie asked.

"I don't know. . .put your jacket over me," you said.

"And explain the giant lump to them how?" He asked.

"I don't know. . .think of something," you said. "I can't let them see me. . .I did something embarrassing."

"Okay, as long as you promise to tell us what the hell you did," Eddie said.

"Promise!"

Just like that, Eddie's jacket was being pulled over you. You could hear Eddie finishing off your milkshake as Steve and Nancy slid into the booth. The bastard. You could hear them talk low and then mention your name.

"You haven't seen them, have you?" Steve asked.

"No, can't say that I have," Eddie said.

"We were hoping they had come here," Nancy sighed.

"By the way, what the hell is under here?" Steve asked.

"Oh, that's my overnight bag. I didn't want to leave it in the van," Eddie said. "I'm going to spend the night at Chrissy's."

"Oh, I'm sure her mom is going to love that," Steve said.

"Oh, yeah," Chrissy giggled.

"So, what are you looking for them for anyway?" Eddie asked.

"We sort of messed up," Nancy said. "They told us something important and we didn't handle it well."

"We're just trying to find them and apologize," Steve said.

"We've spent all this time trying to explain to them that we've never thought of what they told us in that way before," Nancy said.

"All we're doing now is thinking about what they said," Steve said.

"And we just can't get it out of our heads," she said. "It's like - I don't know what to compare it to."

"It's like olives. One day they're just olives to you, you don't want to eat them, but you don't have anything against them, either," Steve said.

"Then someone tells you that they like olives and that you should try them. . .suddenly, you want to but now you can't find the olives," Nancy said in excitement. "The olives are nowhere to be found!"

"Wow. . .," Eddie said, blinking at them. "I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about."

"We hurt their feelings, Eddie," Nancy said with a sigh.

"And we didn't mean to," Steve said.

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. It was so utterly ridiculous. Were they saying what you thought they were saying? Okay, so you definitely couldn't hide anymore. You sighed and took off the jacket, tugging on Eddie's pants. You saw Eddie nudge Chrissy, and they moved out of the booth. You crawled out from under the table, looking sheepish.

"Hey," you said softly.

"You were under there the whole time?" Nancy asked.

"You're Eddie's bag?" Steve asked.

"Yes, I'm Eddie's bag," you snorted and turned to the other couple. "Thanks, guys, I've got it from here. And don't worry, Eddie, I'll tell you all about it later."

"I'm holding it to you, Henderson!" Eddie exclaimed.

Eddie and Chrissy moved to another table, leaving you alone with them. You looked at them, feeling guilty.

"I'm sorry for running away, I shouldn't have done that," you said, blushing.

"You were hurt, I totally get it," Nancy said.

"I'm sorry we didn't realize sooner how we felt about you," Steve said.

"You didn't know," you said. "And you guys really want me to be with you?"

"Yes," Nancy said.

"Why?" you asked, blinking rapidly at them.

"Because you're sweet and thoughtful. . .also very funny," Steve said. "Very cute too."

"And you've always been there for us whenever we needed you," Nancy said.

"And you never once complained when we were unable to be there for you," Steve said.

"We're here now, though, for whatever you need," Nancy said. "We want to see where this takes us."

"Well, you should know that I'm apparently a flight risk," you said.

"And apparently, we'll just chase after you," Steve said with mirth and love in his eyes.

"We love you," Nancy said.

"I love you, too," you said, your voice thick with emotion.

Nancy and Steve each took your hand, holding it tightly in yours. You looked into their eyes, and you knew that there wasn't a chance you were ever going to run away again. Now, you could run towards them, and they'd catch you if you fell. . .literally, they've already done it a few times. You laughed, maybe you were just a klutz. Suddenly, Eddie screamed from across the diner.

"THEY WEREN'T FUCKING TALKING ABOUT OLIVES AT ALL! CHRISSY, I'M A FUCKING IDIOT!"

"Eddie!"

[sheisjoeschateau]

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART III

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 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 WARNINGS: mega plot-driven smut ahead in this part of the story. you've been warned. MINORS, DNI. 18+

***

Despite everything, you and Steve both get through battling Vecna. You both grin and bear it. You both set aside your differences when the moment calls for it.

Just like you have before. Many times.

And in the midst of it all, you can't help but wonder about your uncle. How he's doing. If he's somewhere in his bunker still, hopefully drinking less (ideally, not at all) and keeping up his phone calls with Joyce. You'd told her to keep tabs on him, and you also told your uncle to keep tabs on her. They needed each other. You had the kids and the teens, but they needed each other. And sure, your uncle has you. Always. But you have to work, and babysit, and hang around a guy who hates your guts because the circumstances won't permit otherwise.

Eddie and Robin really stick up for you. They do. They really like you. Steve can’t stand it.

Even Nancy doesn’t mind you. Honestly, she’s scared of you more than anything. Steve doesn’t care.

The kids love you. Steve won’t make them hate you. He never would. But he won’t endorse their kind sentiments about you either.

More groups are formed, along with more plans. Scary, life-threatening plans.

You stay behind with Dustin and Eddie, knowing that Steve is quietly a basket case over the concept leaving Dustin alone without having him there to protect him from all this shit, the way he has before. With the demodogs, the Russians, and everything up to this point. That kid is his brother. His son.

It’s the only time that Steve tells you thank you.

And he sincerely means it.

By the grace of some unspeakable force, you manage to not only keep Dustin alive...but also Eddie. The bats have done their damage, and you've got some damage yourself. Though not nearly as bad as Eddie. You can withstand yours with adrenaline and the sheer need to protect one of your kids and get this metalhead back to the real world so that he can get proper medical attention.

When Steve and the girls all get back to the three of you there, after all the shit hits the fan - you, Steve, Nancy, Robin and Dustin all manage to get Eddie back across the gate and get him majorly patched up. Thanks to Dr. Owens.

You keep Eddie hidden at Murray's bunker. You're shocked to find it empty, your worry growing more every single minute. But Steve tries to assure you that your uncle is likely fine, probably just out to eat or something. However... even he knows that is not true. Murray does not go anywhere.

"Bauman," he's saying to you, softly. So softly. Softer than he's ever spoken to you once. "He's gonna be okay. I promise. We're here, alright?"

Two days later, Jonathan and his Cali crew all show up. Nancy and him are reunited.

And you watch Steve break.

He doesn’t let it show, not really. But you see it. Both you and Robin do. You let her comfort him. He needs his best friend, much more than he needs you. Especially in this situation. You are undoubtedly the last source of comfort for him in this specific instance.

You reunite with your Uncle Murray, who has returned with Joyce and — to your surprise — a very much alive Hopper.  It’s a beautiful reunion, as you all hug tightly. 

You all fucking lived, bitch.

Given the new flurry of debris-snow-shit in the air, you all end up having to take shelter.

Steve volunteers his house, given that his parents fled to their vacation home and he told them he wasn’t going. They ditch him, so he has the house all to himself. This time, he doesn’t have to be alone though.  He has his real family.

You all move into the Harrington House. Lord knows it’s big enough. But it’s also really tight, for two people who can’t stand each other unless there’s a really ugly monster guy waltzing around that needs to be killed along with his multi-species army of little uglies.

Given the close quarters, on top of the fact that you all can’t leave the house much unless it’s for supplies, you and Steve have no choice but to coexist.

He still resents you, especially seeing Nancy and Jonathan are now getting along again and seem to be doing better. But it's much more subdued now, and you both find a way to talk. Which happens mainly because of you, initiating.

You learn more about Steve's home life, given the pictures everywhere throughout the house. They're all pretty stiff, lacking warmth. You figured that Steve was a pretty lonely trust fund baby, and being that you're a lonely child you can relate to the loneliness that comes with that. Not the trust fund part. Just the only-child-syndrome part, which you know perfectly well forces you to either become very well acquainted with yourself...or hate yourself even more. Steve clearing did not lean into becoming his own source of reliability and companionship, the way that you did. And it made you understand him better. It made you understand why he needed to be around the likes of Carol and Tommy H. He did not know how to be alone with himself.

"I think my dad and I don't even like the same beer," Steve scoffs, allowing himself a humorless chuckle. You don't laugh with him, instead giving him a soft look. An apology with your eyes.

"And my mom, she just...I dunno. Sometimes, I wonder why she never left him."

You let Steve reveal as little or as much as he wants to. It just depends on the day.

The two of you watch out for the kids. You both go with them to visit Max in the hospital. You even initiate finding a way to get her to stay there while in a coma, thanks to enlisting the help of your uncle to help enlist the help of Dr. Owens. The kids love you for that.

Steve doesn’t love you… But he appreciates you.

A lot. He's beginning to find appreciation for you, for a lot of things.

Your uncle clocks the very niche tension between the two of you, now that you’re all under the same roof and he’s given no choice but to.

And damn, it makes him curious. He is, after all, the witch doctor of love…

Nevertheless, Murray takes his time choosing when to strike.

As you and Steve both help nurse Eddie back to health, and read to Max in her coma (which leads to both of you just simply talking), and make the kids laugh together, and even make conversation with Nancy and Jonathan (…it’s very double date ish) Murray watches his niece — and mannnnnn, is he amuuuuuused.

One night, you and Steve stay up to share some drinks with the adults. It’s the first time that the two of you actually make each other really laugh, heartily. The drinks help.

That’s sort of Murray’s plan. Vodka is, after all, the holy grail.

Even Eddie joins, along with Robin. But Steve sits next to you. Not his best friend, or the new friend he’s made in the metalhead. Nope, he sits his perfect, hunky ass that makes all the ladies drool right next to little ole you.

And damn, do you both laugh.

Murray’s never seen you laugh that hard with anyone in his life. He wonders if you’ve ever laughed that way at all. 

And the way that Harrington looks at you?  Especially when you’re not looking… Holy shit. 

And the way you look at him the same way... makes Murray grin ear to ear like a mischievous kid with the plan to wreak havoc.

Hopper and Joyce are so settled into their relationship, and Jonathan seems to be winning back the love of Nancy. Eddie and Robin are so single it hurts, but it's legendary too. And you? Steve? Well, you guys are mortal enemies. And yet somehow, sitting here in the Harrington's living room with glasses of chilled vodka, belly-laughing over anything -- you and Steve exude more chemistry than all of them combined.

So when everyone goes to bed, and Murray catches you alone, he grills you. Not like the others. Nah, you’re family. He’ll cut you some slack.

…not much, though.

It sobers you right up.

"Do not tell me for one second that you don't think he's gorgeous," your uncle is saying in a low voice. You're both standing in his bedroom, having fetched him a tall glass of water which turned out just be a way to fucking lure you into his witchdoctor trap.

"I love you Uncle Murray. I really do. But this theory? -- is not one of your other bullseye's."

"Face it, kiddo," your uncle is smirking. "Your uncle's never wrong. You're just never the one on the other end of his lectures when he's making astute observations. You're always contributing to it. But this time? You're the leading lady, darling."

"False."

"You like Steve."

"Murray...!"

"You like Steve..."

You try to tell your uncle that everything he is saying is nonsense. Steve hates you. He absolutely hates you. Loathes and despises you, and plans to do so until you’re all particles of dust. 

“Plus, he is so fucking annoying and whiny and entitled and has zero self respect unless it’s up against someone who calls him out for his shit,” you tell your uncle, gesturing to yourself on the last part. “Steve Harrington is a cocky guy who would just rather suffer in his own misery than ever see or lean into being this...this incredible man that he's...capable of being, the role model he has become to those kids, who love him, they love the human most deserving of being put first —”

.................

…oh fuck.

The silence is deafening. Murray’s smirk and all-knowing glare only adds to your being aware of what you just said to him, and admitted to yourself, out loud.

“Oh…oh so we do love Steve.”

Your uncle’s words are the cherry on top of the cake you just baked, and didn’t know you had the ingredients to make.

You don’t sleep that night.

***

The next morning, you and Steve both sit with Max.

"Wondering what she wrote in yours?"

Steve is nodding at the stack of letters on the bedside table. You all left them there, promising yourselves not to open them. Because she will wake up.

Lucas took it hard, Max dying. You'd been there to hold him, comfort him, along with Steve. You both watched him burst into tears numerous times, sometimes sobbing uncontrollably, despite the fact that she was somehow still here. It broke both your hearts, but you both got through it with him. Together.

And while the other kids were taking it hard too...so fucking hard...it was Steve who carried the most guilt. Remorse, anguish and guilt.

"I failed my kid," Steve had told you at the hospital once. You looked at him with a furrowed brow and concerned eyes.

"Steve, no you didn't."

His voice shook, eyes drowning in nightmarish thoughts. "I wasn't there for her. I wasn't -- wasn't..."

"You could never fail those kids. Not even if you tried."

He didn't believe you. But he wanted to. You had squeezed his hand that day, sitting in the waiting room. And to your surprise, not only did he let you...but he squeezed it back, letting your hands rest that way for an hour as you fell asleep in the seats before being woken up.

And now, sitting in one of his guest rooms while Max lay asleep in the coma still, you can see that guilt in him is spreading.

Steve is holding the letter that she gave to him, and you ask him if he’s wanting to read it.

Steve snorts. "God, you kidding? She'll wake up just to kill me before going right back to sleep."

You smirk, biting back a real laugh. “True.”

But Steve looks conflicted. He fiddles with the letter in his hands, wanting to tear it open. You know that he does.

“…want me to read it out loud to you instead? She can kill me in your place.”

Steve chuckles at that.

...but he doesn’t say no.

In fact, after biting his lip for a minute and thinking, he finds himself nodding. Yes. Please, read it to me, he’s thinking.

So you do.

You take the letter and read it to him. You read him the words that only a little sister could write to a big brother who she loves and wishes she will grow up to be like. You read him words that make him light up like a Christmas tree, yet cause him a painful ache deep within his bones. You read him a letter of love that no one ever took the time to write, let alone express, to him his entire life.

Steve fights tears. He bites them back, successfully. You’re the last person he ever wants to see him vulnerable. Hell, he can’t even see himself like that without judging his own self harshly. He can only imagine that you will, too.

He doesn’t know, though, that not only would you never judge him for that. But selfishly, you wish he would feel safe with you. Or God, someone at least. Just not Nancy.  Someone who deserves him wholeheartedly.

"Steve," you speak softly.

He's staring into space, zoned out. But then, he finally looks over at you. He sees the kindness in him, and it almost takes his breath away. The way that you look at him...he just never thought you could...that you could --

"You're all of these things. Everything she wrote in this? You're all of it. And then some. You're the hero all those kids dream of being when they grow up. You're their favorite person. The one they trust, go to for everything. Even if you don't think that they do, they do."

He listens, unable to move. Speak. Breathe.

"You are...a great person, Steve Harrington."

***

That night, there’s a knock on your door. You’ve been given the guest room upstairs with no bunk mate. Unlike most of the people in the house. But given that Joyce and Hopper are together now, and El sleeps in Max’s room to keep watch, the four younger boys share a room with Eddie, Nancy is with Jonathan, Erica sleeps at her own house and Robin shares Steve’s room since she splits her time here and at home — you and Murray got the solo rooms.

Steve is now grateful for those sleeping arrangements tonight.

Because when you open the door, he’s on the other side. He looks sad, conflicted and lost. Like his mind is racing at a million miles an hour, yet can’t think of anything to say. He’s tongue tied, just staring at you expectantly…

What is he expecting?

“What’s wrong?” you ask. “Is it Max?”

Something about your question makes Steve brows pinch together. Like it’s suddenly confusing him even more. But he doesn’t speak.

You wait patiently. But truth be told, you are anxious as fuck. Because damn, he’s pretty. He is so stupid pretty. And fuck it’s annoying. His lips are just the right shape in a pout, and it’s really fucking annoy —

His lips are crashing into yours before you can even finish dissecting them.

Steve is kissing you like life depends on it. Gentle at first, but eager. Determined.

And when you both pulls back -- you don’t hesitate for more than a solid 2-3 seconds, your eyes shocked while his eyes silently ask, is this okay?

Your lips crashing back against his answers — yes.

Steve is a hurricane of both madness and all things serene in the ways that he touches your body. He explores your skin with his lips and hands, as if he has all the time in the world. The curve of your jaw and neck. The jut of your collarbones. The feel of your clavicle, which leads him to the shape of your tits and nipples. He cherishes your body, hungrily exploring it. It’s heated, hot and heavy. He licks a stripe down your abdomen to the waistband of your sweatpants. The way his brown irises look up at you, all round and doe eyed, makes the back of your throat groan with need. It’s not loud or brash, nor is it strained and quiet. It’s soft but certain. Steve melts at it, his fingers curling one by one around the band of your sweatpants, his eyes still asking — please?

You’re nodding without even having to hear a word out of him. And Steve pulls.

Euphoria is the feeling of Steve’s tongue exploring your folds. It’s the sound of him sighing into your portal in pure pleasure, and the way he sucks your clit with fervency yet flicks it with supple patience. His hands knead into your thighs, one of them reaching to squeeze your hips so that he can pull himself up to you and let you taste yourself on his tongue. He wraps an arm underneath your waist, hooking you to him, asking in the breathiest of whimpers, “Please let me, angel.”

He’s getting a fistful of your hair into one of his big hands, adoring the way that you squeak a yelp. You suck on his tongue, hard, and it’s enough to drive him mad. He pins himself against you, grinding. But you sit up, keeping your bodies glued together and now using your teeth to tug on his lip and paralyze him in pure ecstasy. You take the opportunity to slide your teeth and tongue down his jaw and neck, trailing pecks and kisses along the way, and the throaty whimper he lets out makes you see stars behind your hooded eyes as you drag your tongue down his chest. The wet stripe you’re leaving glides down to his toned abdomen’s bunny trail, and as you curl your fingers around his sweatpants, you pause… letting your lips press the most fluttery of kisses to each of his scars.

Steve can’t help the shudders, sighs and whimpers that escape his lips, along with your name. It’s raw, uncensored.  He clutches your hand, which you extend up to him in a greedy grab as you slowly work his pants down with your other hand. You hook your fingers onto his chin, forcing him to let go of your hand in his and look down at you. He does, and it’s game over. You watch him and never break eye contact as you use both hands to push down his briefs…

…and thank God for that — because otherwise, you would see just what you’re up against as far as pleasuring him goes.

You feel the tip of his hard length tap your chin, and you scoot farther down into the mattress — on your knees like a perfect angel. Your tongue plays with its head, tasting the tang of his pre-cum, and Steve is shaking so hard he can’t stand it. He clenches his jaw, gritting out blissful curses through his teeth. “Fuck, baby, fuck.”

You take in the intense length of him, pleasuring him until he is touching the back of your throat and nearly gagging you senseless, and the mess he is up above you — it sends your mind into a tailspin. He has never looked so pretty, eyes squeezed shut except when he’s glancing back down at you with more fondness and adoration than you ever thought possible from not only a man who hates you…but any man at all.

And when Steve is just about to cum, he begins to beg. “P-please. Wait, please.”

His hands urgently cup your jaw, forcing you to look back up at him and cease your sickeningly perfect work. He pulls, and you follow. He drinks you in with his gaze, staring into your soul, as if he’s trying to figure you out. He stares and stares, his thumbs stroking your cheeks, his brown eyes searching yours like you are the most beautiful mystery he has ever needed to solve. He looks as though he might ask you something. Say something...

But he dives in to kiss you again before he lets himself.

His hand wraps around the bend of one of your knees, tugging it up so that he can hook your leg around his waist. Then he does it to the other. And before you know it, you’re straddling him.

“Fuck, Bauman, please,” Steve Harrington groans into your mouth. Then softer, murmuring against your lips as he kisses them endlessly, “please let me, please.”

And you know what he is asking. You know what he wants. You don’t have to even think twice. Lifting yourself up, lining him with your entrance, he stretches you out and the euphoric sting of it sucks the air right out of you. And Steve.

Steve is winded by the feeling of how tight your walls are, and by just how right it feels to be inside of you. You both fit. Like a perfect match.

At this point, you’re both a frenzy of fucking. You ride him – slow, hard, fast, all of it. Steve keens into your mouth, then your neck as he buries his face there — completely overwhelmed. You hold his head there, comfortingly and securely, and so fucking perfectly as your fingers tug at the ends of his perfect hair.

“I’ve got you, baby,” your voice shakes in a breathy whisper, just for him. “Let it all go.”

And Steve does. His fingers dig into the curve of your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him as he presses the loud growl of his climax into your bare shoulder. He releases himself into you, hot and loaded, and you drip just as much onto him as he just shot into you.

As if that wasn’t enough to send you reeling — enough to make you see angels and devils and god — it’s the way that Steve shudders against you, catching his breath…and then pulls back to look at you…that renders you speechless.

His hairline leaks sweat, his face beaded with it. His eyelids are hooded, the dark brown irises dazed and daring to meet your gaze. His lips are parted perfectly — and the way he looks up at you with his tousled hair, somehow still perfect after it’s been pulled and messed with, is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Steve Harrington is so fucking beautiful.  He’s an all-American boy, yet a Greek god.

The way that Steve gently brings your forehead to his, breathing against you, closing his eyes at the contact — you find yourself timidly nuzzling the tip of your nose to his. And you feel him smile against you, opening your eyes just enough to steal a peek — and that’s when you feel a deep ache in your heart and soul that might as well kill you.

Because now you realize. That is love. 

Steve is love.

But you let it die inside of you tonight, not wanting to make this moment end any sooner than it has to. Instead, you let Steve entangle his limbs with yours, not daring to ask if he wants to stay. Because if you do, he’ll likely leave. He’ll realize that being in bed with you is the last place that he wants to be, and that he’s made a mistake. He’ll go back to hating you, more than he already does, and it will be the death of you. So instead, you just let it ride out however it’s supposed to.

You try not to count the minutes as Steve absentmindedly traces circles with his fingertips on your skin. Your hip bones, your shoulder blades, your spine. You tell yourself to forget that time and its limits exist as you stroke the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, your temple against his forearm, his outer arm draped over you. You tell yourself that this is it. This is heaven. This is eternity. You tell yourself even if you wake up and it’s just a dream, you’ll remember it for as long as you live. Because on the other side of death is this, and it will never end.

You let that ease your mind as he presses his lips to your forehead and you no longer fight sleep.

So when you do wake up…and find that Steve is still there…you’re shocked. But you stay that way until he wakes. He looks at you in awestruck wonder. Not confusion or regret. Just…wonder.

He props himself up on an elbow, still looking at you, deep in thought. All you can do is stare back, wishing you knew what the hell he was thinking but not daring to ask. It wasn’t worth risking this.  You stay that way for a little while.

He finally breathes a sigh, whispering, “Kids will be up soon.”

You give him a soft smile and gentle nod. You can already see Dustin waking up to go knock down Steve’s door, and that’s…not gonna end well if he finds out that Steve is walking out of your room instead.

Steve contemplates god-knows-what for another long moment before pressing a quick kiss into your hairline as he rises.

You watch him stand and dress himself, your heart throbbing at the way he looks in the early morning light streaming through the windows. His body is god-like. Tall, lean and athletic. His skin has the most beautiful constellation of moles that put the entire galaxy of stars to shame. And you ache at the thought of never being able to touch them again.

He gives you a soft grin after he throws his t-shirt back on, and before you know it he’s gone.

You lay there staring at nothing, feeling yourself leak a couple of silent tears and wondering why. You find yourself afraid to get up and face whatever new reality lies ahead of you on the other side of that door. 

***

thanks for reading :) comment to be added to my tag list for this series.

tags: @erastourvip @xprloki @get0ut0fmyr00m @eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

The Graduation Lineup

Ship: Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader

Summary: Billy Hargrove comes between you and Steve at graduation—but only by last name. Additionally, you finally find out Steve's middle name (among other things).

Word Count: 5,899 words

Warnings: Billy, Stancy mention, flashbacks (aka weird timeline/narration), little bit of self-pity from Steve, fluff

Note: Set in season 2! Also pretend Tommy's last name comes after Henderson so that you get stuck between him and Steve.

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Graduation practice was held inside the school gym. You'd been there for an hour at least, waiting for it to start and then going through the list of names to get everyone in the right seat and spot in line. They were on F now. Your leg bounced where you sat, but from boredom, not from nerves. While everyone else was panicking about who they would have to sit next to for the entire ceremony, you knew who you would be next to��and you were happy with it. It was the same boy you were already sitting next to: Steve Harrington.

It was a little weird, you thought, that it all worked out so perfectly. That there were no other Hs separating Harrington and Henderson. That Harrington was the one you had gotten so close to over the past four years, but particularly close to in the last semester alone.

The vice principle got through the Fs and into the Gs. Soon.

"You alright?" he asked you, seeing your bouncing leg.

You nodded. "Just impatient."

Steve smirked, a signature King Steve smirk he hadn't quite shaken. "Got somewhere to be, Henderson?"

"I have to pick up Dustin from Mike's, they all had a sleepover last night. Not that Dustin minds staying over a little longer, but Mom does. She doesn't like him being out of her sight for too long these days."

Steve's eyes went glassy, like they did when he thought about what happened that night for a little too long. "Yeah, well... Can't blame her for that one."

"I don't," you said. "Not when Dustin still has nightmares."

Shock flickered across his face. He opened his mouth but then—

"STEVE HARRINGTON!"

He stood, grinning down at you. "See you in a minute."

You gave him a tiny wave goodbye as he walked away and waited a second for your own name to be called. The vice principle watched Steve take his seat, then looked down at his list.

"WILLIAM HARGROVE!"

Your heart stopped. What? Shit. You'd forgotten about Billy. You bit back a groan, glancing around the gym to try and spot him. There was no movement.

Of course you'd forgotten about Billy—he wasn't even here. Not to mention, he hadn't been here for eleven years. It had just been you and Steve next to each other for a solid eleven years. Steve on one side of you, and his (former) best friend Tommy on the other. Tommy had always been pissed that you separated them, but Steve had never minded, and he certainly didn't now.

"Not here today?" the vice principle said. "Alright, the next student should leave the seat next to Steve open for him." He looked back down at his list and called your name.

You walked to your spot—next to the empty seat—as if in a trance. You sat and looked over at Steve, who looked just a blindsided as you.

Your gaze dropped to Billy's empty seat. "But..."

For some reason, it felt like a betrayal. It felt like the world was ending.

You're overreacting, you told yourself. Just calm down.

But you had been next to Steve for eleven years. Every roll call they organized you by graduating class; every assembly; every Department of Education required testing. You had been in the seat next to Steve for your PSATs and SATs, stealing glances to find him sitting with his eyes huge, not a thought in his head, and trying so hard not to giggle. Then laughing about it after, when the proctors let you all leave, and the two of you exchanging a knowing look the moment you left the classroom.

Over time, especially after the demodogs, Steve grew to be something like your best friend, although, if asked, you'd probably say Nancy was your best friend. You'd grown up with her, too, when Dustin spent the night at Mike's.

(Which made you feel slightly like a traitor when, after all that had happened between her and Steve, you couldn't help but tolerate him enough to like him.)

But you also knew what happened that night in the Byers' house. You knew Billy and Steve had gotten into a fight bad enough to knock Steve unconscious and leave him banged up and bloody. You knew Billy hated him more than ever after that, even though it had been Max who finally knocked Billy out, and you knew it was the promise Max extracted from Billy that kept him from trying to finish the fight with Steve "properly."

So you knew that the look on Steve's face was not just from being separated after eleven years. You knew it was also from terrible fear, overwhelming fear.

The vice principle had gotten to the Js. You hadn't heard any of them, hadn't even noticed Tommy H. sit next to you. You just stared at that empty seat where Billy should have been—where you should have been.

~❊~

You considered yourself fond of Steve Harrington.

He'd saved your brother's life, after all, and the lives of Dustin's friends. Dustin had wasted no time in telling you just how great his new hero was, despite the fact that he was falling asleep in the back of the car when you'd rushed to Steve's house to pick him up, late at night.

"And he took his bat—the one I told you about, with all the nails, that one—and he just started bashing with it. And then, and then, and then, when the demodog got on the roof of the bus, he pushed us away so it couldn't kill us!" He smiled sleepily in the back, visible in your rearview mirror. "You shoulda been there. You shoulda seen it! He was awesome, just...just so awesome... So bitchin'."

You would have reprimanded him for his language (even though it wasn't going to stop him), but he was already asleep, without even finishing his story.

Had it surprised you? A little bit. The King Steve you had known was nothing like the Steve in Dustin's story, but you didn't doubt Dustin. You'd seen a change in Steve the past semester or so. But you'd sat next to him for eleven years, gotten to see a side of him that he didn't let the rest of the school see. And when you'd gone to pick up Dustin, the boy before you was deserving of your sudden fondness for him.

"Hey," he said, greeting you from where he leaned against his car, next to the open door revealing Dustin in the back. "I would have waited for you at the Byers', but I know this is closer, and it's late, so—"

Dustin shouted your name, hopped out of the car, and ran to you, hugging your legs tightly. He'd pretended to be fine when Steve called, but you could tell he was terrified and glad the whole thing was over from how tightly he hugged you.

You looked up at Steve, leaning down just enough to wrap your arms around Dustin's shoulders. "I can't thank you enough, Steve, really." He waved away your thanks, but you talked over him. "Seriously, Steve. Thank you. If anything had happened to him, I would've..." You looked down at Dustin, at a loss for words. "I don't know what I would've done."

"Yeah. Just..." Steve shrugged. He seemed embarrassed to be standing at his car, giving back your brother like two divorced parents and their child. "He needed help and...I was around."

You prodded Dustin toward the car. "Go get in the car. The back, I've got too much stuff in the passenger seat."

He nodded, stifling a yawn and heading to the car without protest.

You looked back at Steve. "Thank you. Again."

Steve nodded, his eyes locked on yours. "Any time."

Without really realizing it, you closed the distance between you and Steve and threw your arms around him, squeezing him tightly and trying not to cry into his shoulder. He stood frozen for a moment, but then his arms came around you and squeezed. For some reason, you remembered he was dating Nancy Wheeler at that exact moment.

"Hey..." His voice was impossibly soft. "Hey, it's okay. He's okay. They're all okay."

You pulled away from him, sniffling and wiping your eyes. "I... I'm sorry. I don't know why I..." You shook your head. "Long, hard day, I guess."

"Don't worry about it," he said, in a tone so gentle and kind that you didn't.

So yes—you were fond of Steve, and that fondness grew when he visited more and more and more often to visit Dustin, or take him somewhere when you couldn't, and you learned through Dustin's endless chattering that Steve and Nancy had broken up a while ago, so you felt a little less guilty about the hug.

You considered Steve your best friend. You might have considered him more than that, if not for your friendship with Nancy.

(Although, did that really matter, when she was happy with Jonathan and comfortably over Steve?)

But you were far less fond of Billy Hargrove.

In fact, you were quite positive that you despised Billy Hargrove.

Even before knowing what he had done to Steve, to your brother and his friends, you had hated him. You had seen him antagonize everyone, from the poor, already outcast nerds, to the popular clique like Steve. Everybody suffered at the hands of Billy, one way or another. Even Max—or, perhaps, especially Max.

Regardless, you hated Billy. And now you had to sit between him and Tommy H, instead of next to your best friend? God, these were going to be a rough couple of hours.

~❊~

On your way out of the gym, you found Steve waiting for you at the door.

"I know you've gotta go pick up Dustin, but after that, do you wanna—"

"Steve, I will do anything you want as long as you let me vent. I can't believe I'm stuck next to Billy Hargrove," you complained.

He snorted. "Yeah, believe me, you're not alone there. Jesus, I wanna punch him again."

"Hey." You put a hand on his chest, stopping him. "Don't start anything you can't finish."

Steve brushed you off and kept walking. "I didn't say I was going to, just that I want to. And, believe me, I really, really want to."

"We'll just ask Max to do it."

He groaned. "Don't remind me that I needed a twelve-year-old to fight my battles for me."

"She's thirteen." Steve gave you a look. You giggled. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you alone."

He pushed the front door of the school open and held it for you, following you out. "Okay, so, you need to vent, I want to go out—milkshakes later?"

"Yes, please," you nearly groaned. "But you do realize Dustin is going to want to come, right?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "You don't have to tell him. Just...bring him home and I'll pick you up at one?"

You rolled your eyes back at him. "The instant you show up at our door, Dustin's Steve-senses are going to tingle and he's going to hop in the front seat before I can. He's practically attached at the hip to you."

Steve laughed. "You have a point there. Alright, fine—Dustin, too."

You split away from him to head to your car, only for him to follow you. You realized he'd parked next to you. "We'll meet you at Benny's!" you said, getting into the front seat. He nodded slowly and waved you off. You returned the wave and left the school parking lot behind.

It was only after Steve was just a figure in your rearview mirror that it dawned on you he'd phrased the whole thing differently from just a regular hang-out with the group.

"But after that—"

"I want to go out."

You glanced back out your window, not daring to identify meaning of the twist of anticipation in your chest.

~❊~

Dustin slurped loudly on his almost-finished milkshake. You and Steve, who were only halfway through your own milkshakes, made eye contact over your glasses and giggled.

Your little brother looked up from his glass. "What? What's funny?"

"Nothing," the two of you said in unison. You glanced back up at him and your stomach did flips. The expression on his face looked like your fondness felt. It looked like the face Nancy had described to you, back when she was still sort-of in love with Steve—before Barb died, and before the Upside Down.

You and Nancy lay spread out on her bed, your legs hanging over the end of her bed, her feet curled up behind her, her knees at her pillows. Your hears were right next to each other, turned toward each other so you could see the huge smile on Nancy's face.

She was half an hour deep into telling you about her date with Steve. "And he just...he had this look on his face, you know? Like there was nothing else that mattered. Like I was the only thing left in the world. The only girl left." Without even realizing it, she had brought her hand up to her hair, curling it in her fingers. "His eyes, they were so...so soft and so open. And his hair was falling into his face, he'd been blowing it out of his eyes for hours, it was so cute, ridiculously cute, but he stopped trying to get it out of his face when I giggled at him."

You giggled at her. "You are so in love with him, admit it!"

Her grin got impossibly bigger. "That...that's the thing. I think he wanted to say it to me."

Your eyes widened. "He was gonna tell you he loved you?!"

"I think so," she whispered. "But then the door opened, and it was loud, rowdy teenagers, so we just glanced over at them and started to laugh and—" She giggled. "And then it was gone. But it was there. He wanted to say it to me." She paused and, in a whisper, added, "And I think I wanted to say it back."

You shrieked with joy, reaching for her and tickling. "Nance, oh my God!"

She giggled, batting her hands away. "Stop it, stop it, I can't breathe!"

"Have you told Barb yet?"

Nancy's mood darkened a tad too much for your liking. "I don't think she'd like it. She's not a...huge fan of Steve."

"Oh, come on, if you're happy, she'll be happy for you, right?"

Nancy rubbed her arms. "I don't know. I hope so?"

"Just tell her, Nance, she'll be okay. She'll get it." You grinned at her again. "Oh my God, I can't believe it, you're in love with Steve Harrington!"

You tore your eyes away from Steve, looking back down at the milkshake he had insisted on buying for you.

"Do you think they're going to say our middle names when we graduate?"

"Huh?" You looked up. That expression of Steve's was gone. "Our middle names?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. You know, we're just walking up and they're saying our whole names."

You blinked at him.

"They're supposed to," Dustin said beside you. Your heads turned toward him.

"What?"

"They're supposed to say your middle names. At least, most high schools do it for graduation. Did they not do it during rehearsal today?"

"No," Steve said. He groaned, thumping his head into the table. "Damn it."

"Why?" you asked, giggling at his melodrama.

He lifted his head back up, sipped on his milkshake, and said, "I hate my middle name. I hate it! It's so...stupid."

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh again. "Well, now you have to tell me what it is."

Steve scoffed. "Absolutely not."

You leaned forward across the table. "Tell me."

"No," he insisted.

"Yes!"

"No way!"

You found Steve's foot with your own under the table, making him jump. "Come on, Stevie... Just tell us!"

"No!"

"We're gonna find out anyway," Dustin piped up from beside you. "They're gonna say it at graduation!"

Steve shook his head resolutely. "No. They might not, because they didn't at practice, and if they didn't, I'm not embarrassing myself by telling you now."

You rolled your eyes at him. "It can't be that bad. No parent would name their child something that awful."

He snorted. "You have clearly never met my parents."

"No, I have not, but now I would like to," you said. You'd heard him complain about his father being a "grade-A asshole" before, a phrase Nancy had confirmed he'd used multiple times about his father, but you'd never seen just how bad he was.

Steve shook his head, going back to his milkshake. "No, you don't," he said quietly. The look in his eyes—like a sad, lost, kicked puppy—shut you up effectively. So you let it go, drinking your milkshake happily.

Dustin twirled his straw around in the remnants of his whipped cream. "Did I tell you about the project Mr. Clarke gave us? I might need help setting it up, but he wants us to make a machine out of stuff we have around the house."

Steve brightened. "Is it a Rube Goldberg machine? I remember those! I think I used mine to open the door to my patio..."

"Yeah!" Dustin grinned. "Mike, Lucas, Will, Max and I have a contest to see which of us can make the best one. I already know Mike's getting Nancy's help, and Will's getting Jonathan's, and I think Max and Lucas are collaborating to make two separate projects, so I could really use you guys to help..."

In amongst Dustin's chatter, you glanced toward Steve, finding a small smile on his face as he watched the kid talk animatedly. Dustin pulled a napkin toward himself and started sketching out vague plans for his machine. You felt Steve's foot move beside yours. You glanced over at him as he started playing a subtle game of footsie with you under the table.

You stifled a giggle, smiling at him in a way that was far too friendly—or, rather, not friendly enough. That look came back on his face, the lovey dovey look Nancy had gushed so much over. You understood why now. Had the roles been reversed, you would have gone straight to her to tell her all about the way Steve Harrington looked at you like he was in love with you.

That tight feeling in your chest came back, a simmering, traitorous hope nestling in your heart and not once listening to the screams of your brain that you should not, absolutely should not, fall in love with your best friend's ex.

Steve propped his head up with his hand, that dreamy look in his eyes intensifying. His lips pursed slightly before they fell apart, pure wonder in that small, involuntary motion.

To hell with not falling in love with your best friend's ex.

You lifted your foot a little higher, catching the cuff of his jeans and slowly but surely tugging up. Steve gulped, pink dusting his cheeks. You felt a brief but distinct shiver of glee.

Dustin pushed his empty cup away from him, the scraping on the table drawing your attention away from Steve. For a moment, you feared Dustin had caught sight of your not-so-subtle flirting and was about to call you out on it, but then he yawned.

"Can we go home?" he asked you, his sudden tiredness evident in his voice.

"You didn't sleep at all last night at Mike's, did you?" you asked with a sigh. "Because if you had, this sugar would be keeping you bouncing on the walls for the next four to five hours."

He shrugged. "It was a long campaign." His eyes fluttered, his head drooping. His body slid toward you, your shoulder being the only thing keeping him upright anymore.

Love and guilt crashed over you at the same time. "Oh, don't fall asleep on me here, I can't carry you to the car anymore, Dusty—"

"It's okay, I've got him," Steve said. He paid the bill in cash and got up from his side of the booth, gently pulling Dustin out from under the table and out of the restaurant. You followed, a glimmer of warmth in your chest. You'd heard Dustin and the others jokingly refer to Steve as their dad; now you could see why.

You unlocked the car for Steve and he put Dustin in the passenger's seat and buckled him in. Dustin mumbled softly—you were quite sure it was a little 'thank you'—and Steve closed the door as gently as he could.

Steve turned back to you, his hands going to his hips. "He's all yours."

"You'd make a great dad, Steve," you said gently, unable to stop yourself, or keep the gentle smile off your face. And when he smiled back at you, you felt like you had flashed ten years into the future, a mom standing and watching her husband carry their sleeping child to the car, doing everything in his power not to wake him.

"I've, uh, always wanted to be one," Steve said, the admission quiet but confident. "Ever since I knew I could be."

"Oh, Stevie..."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "What? It's just...I like the idea. Of being able to be there for someone and guide someone through life and have a family of my own, you know? Like—a big one. A big, happy family."

"I'm not judging you, Steve," you said, hearing the defensiveness in his voice. "I'm not. It's cute. It's really cute. I'm glad that you know what you want in your future."

He sighed, kicking the ground. "Yeah, well. Doesn't help to know what I want if I can't get there."

You raised an eyebrow and waited for an explanation.

Steve shrugged awkwardly, looking the most helpless you'd ever seen him. "There aren't exactly a line of girls just waiting to make King Steve's dreams come true." He bit his lip. "They just want me for a night, if they even want me at all, and then I don't—" He stopped himself short, taking a deep breath, his eyes dropping to the asphalt beneath you. "I'm sorry, this isn't... This isn't the time or place for this. I'm sorry."

You stepped closer to Steve, leaving only a few inches between you. "Hey," you said softly, bringing his gaze up from the ground and back to you. "It's okay. I understand." You caught his hand in yours. "Steve?"

He hummed, his gaze still on your hand holding his.

"You meant for tonight to be a date, didn't you?"

He blushed, but very slowly, he nodded.

Your heart fluttered in your chest. You hesitated, then said, "Do you want a hug?"

The question very nearly made Steve burst into tears. He nodded, accepting your arms around him instantly. He squeezed tightly and you returned the pressure, sensing he needed it. "I'm sorry," he whispered into your ear. "If it was weird, I'm sorry, I should have made it more clear that it was meant to be a date—"

Your hand drifted behind his hand, tangling into his hair. "Don't apologize. You don't have to apologize for wanting to be wanted, Steve. I should have known you wanted it to be just us—and not on babysitting duty." You bit your lower lip, possessed by a sudden boldness. "And, for what it's worth, I'd want you for more than a night."

He went tense and then lax in your arms. "I... What?" He leaned away from you, just enough to see your face but not enough to leave your arms. He whispered your name. "What are you saying?"

You offered him a tiny smile. "I think you know, Steve."

"Say it," he breathed. "Please. Please, I want to hear you say it."

You pressed your forehead to his as his hand lifted to your cheek, fingers brushing over your skin with a reverence you'd never felt before. "I want you for more than one night, Stevie. I want as many night as you'll give me."

The sound he made was both holy and sinful. You really hoped the windows to your car were closed, because that was not a sound you wanted Dustin hearing—especially not from Steve, not while you were wrapped up in his arms and he was in yours.

Steve moved before you did, leaning in but giving you the time and the chance to back away from him. You did the opposite, meeting him in the middle and kissing him softly.

Nancy had not done his kisses justice in her descriptions of them. Though, you had to give her credit, because it was next to impossible to find a good way to describe the gentle pressure of his mouth on yours. There was certainly nothing to compare it to, except for that heady, wonderful feeling of getting out of trouble scot-free, or that beautiful feeling when a choir sings a perfectly arranged chord in a high-ceilinged building.

You whispered his name into his mouth, a prayer on your lips, a desperate cry for more of him. He hummed into your mouth, sending shivers down your spine, and his hands gripped your hips, pulling you even closer to him and then wrapping around you once more.

"Every night, Steve," you whispered against him when he stopped kissing you to breathe, though his lips remained against yours as his chest heaved. "I want you every night."

He groaned. "Don't say that," he whispered. "Don't say it if you don't mean it."

You cupped his face in your hands. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. I want you, Stevie. All of you, all of the time."

He whimpered. It was a beautiful sound.

"You know..." His words were choppy, split up by his heavy breaths. "If it weren't for your brother in the car, I'd take you home if you'd let me." You opened your mouth, but he put a finger your lips. "Shhh, don't tell me. Don't tell me if you'd let me. Don't let me know what I'm missing out on."

You smiled at him, toying with the hairs at the back of his head. "Kiss me one more time, Stevie. Please, baby."

He grinned. "Well, because you asked so nicely..." And his lips were on you again, and it took everything in you not to moan your relief that he had kissed you again.

Heaven. His kiss was like absolute heaven.

When he finally let go of you, the air between you had changed, filled with a pleasant glee. For the first time in a long time, you saw that Steve's eyes were bright.

"Get your brother home," he told you. "And I'll see you tomorrow. Oh, and, one more thing?"

You reached for his hand, caressing his skin. "Yeah?"

"How about we keep this between us for a few days? Just until graduation." He grinned. "Surprise everybody. I'll walk across the stage and stop to wait for you and we kiss and walk off together—"

"You're forgetting something," you said, shaking your head. "Billy's between us."

Steve's face fell. "I could...wait until he's gone?"

You laughed. "Stevie..."

He sighed. "Well, it was a good idea while it lasted, right?"

"It was cute," you agreed. "Just like you are."

Steve beamed.

"Don't worry—we'll still surprise them all," you said. "We'll just wait until we pose for photos, and right when they snap a picture, we'll lean in and you can give me a big, dramatic kiss, alright?"

"I like that idea just as much," he said, smiling. He nuzzled into you and kissed your cheek. "Get yourself home safe, hun. Okay?"

"Okay," you said. You let go of him slowly, reluctantly getting back in your car. He waited, waving to you as you pulled out of the parking lot, before he got into his own car.

About halfway down the road, Dustin stirred. "I hope the reason you took that long is because you were confessing your feelings for Steve," he said, his voice thick with sleep.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. "Go back to sleep, Dustin."

"So he confessed, too," he mumbled. "Good. You need each other."

You bit back a smile. "Whatever you say, Dustin."

"Yeah...whatever I say..."

~❊~

You stood in line, your heart beating out of your chest. You were surprised no one around you had told you they could hear it.

Billy was standing in front of you, seeming ridiculously tall in his graduation cap and gown. Behind you, the cap and gown seemed to make Tommy even shorter than normal.

"STEVE EUGENE HARRINGTON!"

Your eyes went wide and your head whipped very quickly toward an embarrassed Steve. You'd heard him groan when they had first started graduating seniors by calling middle names, too, but you had not been expecting that.

No wonder he hadn't wanted to tell Dustin—the kid was never going to leave him alone about this.

"WILLIAM DAVID HARGROVE!"

Billy walked. You waited until your name was shouted into the room. You could hear Steve cheer as he went back to his seat, and Dustin cheering up in the stands. You shook Principle Higgins' hand and accepted your diploma, practically glowing and feeling on top of the world.

When you were seated and Tommy H. was following you back to his seat, you leaned forward to see around Billy.

"Eugene?!"

Steve groaned. "Shut up. Please. Please."

"I can see why you didn't want to tell us," you giggled.

Tommy leaned around you. "You know, you could've told them not to say it."

Steve's eyes went huge. "I could have?!"

He was quickly shushed by the administrator guiding students to the stage. Stifling giggles, you and Tommy sat back in your chairs, waiting for the end of the ceremony to tease him endlessly.

~❊~

Lover's Lake in June—busy, overcrowded, full of children.

Lover's Lake in June past six at night—still full of children, but just the ones you were keeping your eyes on with Steve.

The party was having an adventure in the water, shouting at each other, the occasional D&D term thrown in. Max and Eleven were a ways away from the group, shrieking and holding their arms up every time the boys splashed the water too close to them.

Steve looked at his watch. "Hey, guys! It's almost eight! You've got fifteen minutes before we gotta get you home."

Max lifted up a hand, giving him a thumbs up, despite the boys not hearing a thing.

"Especially, you, Dusty, you have to go to camp tomorrow!" you called. You got no response.

"Jesus, they never listen, do they?" Steve sighed.

You leaned into his shoulder. "They listen, they just like yanking your chain."

You and Steve sat together at the edge of a dock, feet in the water, his pants rolled up to his knees and his arm around your shoulders. You held a copy of your graduation photo—the photo, the surprise photo where Steve had turned to you and kissed you right as the camera flashed.

"My mom framed her copy of this, you know," you said, handing him the photo. "It's sitting on the hearth."

He grinned. "I'm glad it turned out so well. I was worried it would be all blurry if I didn't time it right." He nuzzled his face into your temple, pressing a series of quick, gentle kisses there. "How'd Dustin take it?"

You laughed, your eyes straying to your brother, who was being tackled by Lucas. "He already knew! After I got in the car, he told me he hoped the reason it had taken me so long to get in after him was because he wanted us to be confessing our feelings to each other."

Steve snorted, loud in your ear. You shied away and he whispered a quick apology. "Of course he noticed. He notices everything."

"Not that it was hard to see we were hiding something from each other," you added, turning to catch his mouth with your own. He hummed into the kiss. "You spent all of that night looking at me with your 'I love you' eyes."

He raised his brows. "Oh, my 'I love you' eyes, really?"

You nodded, giggling at him and pressing closer to his side. You set the photo down behind you as he pulled you into a hug with both arms.

"Well, you weren't exactly the most subtle, either," Steve said, kissing your nose.

"Oh, yeah? What did I do?"

Steve brought his hand up to your cheek, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. "Oh, you know, you get this look on your face. When you thought I couldn't see you, I guess. You'd look over and it was like...it was like you'd relax." He smiled. "Like seeing me was all it took to calm you down from whatever stress you had."

You smiled. "Yeah, I guess you do kind of have that effect on me." You ran your gaze over him. "You know...you're giving me those eyes right now."

His voice was nearly a whisper. "Good." Steve kissed you deeply, cupping the side of your face to hold you close to him. "Because I do." He squeezed your hip with his other hand. "Because I do love you."

You stared at him, mouth dropped open.

Steve turned red. "I know it's soon, but I—"

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

"Okay," he whispered, leaning back in. When his lips met yours, you lifted your hand into his hair. He sighed happily into your mouth. He wrapped his arms around your waist.

And then it dawned on you. You pulled back from him. "Steve, it's too quiet."

You both looked at the water, half-expecting the kids to be gone, but they were all still in the lake—treading water and staring, silently, at you and Steve.

"What?" Steve asked slowly.

Dustin made a face. "Dude. My sister."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Dude. My girlfriend!"

"You're just as bad as El and Mike," Will groaned, setting off the shouting once more.

Steve glanced at you. "We're not that bad, are we?"

You shrugged. "I don't think so."

He kissed you again. "That's all that matters." He looked back at the kids. "Alright, come on, out of the water! You're not getting in my car soaking wet."

While the kids groaned and complained, Steve stood and offered you his hand to help you up. You took it, kissing his cheek once you were upright. His hand still in yours, you made your way to the car.

Dustin called your name. "Have you seen my towel?"

"Right here, Henderson," Steve laughed. He picked it up from the chair it was flopped over and handed it to him. You leaned into Steve, letting go of his hand so he could wrap his arm around your waist. He kissed the top of your head.

"See?" you whispered to him. "Good dad."

A glint entered Steve's eyes. "Someday," he said, and you got the feeling his someday included you.

You covered his hand on your hip with your own and looked up at him. "I love you, Stevie."

"Still my sister, Steve!"

Steve didn't take his eyes off you and his voice was soft, too soft for Dustin to hear. "Still my girlfriend, Henderson."

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Steve Harrington

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

[strangerthings-writer]

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

[kimoralov3]

daylight

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

description: steve has had a lot of trouble in his love life. but he's also one of the biggest idiots known to man because the girl of his dreams is standing right in front of him

warnings: swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns, everyone is a lil mean to steve, mentions of stancy (not like that), like i said steve is an idiot, slight angst, fluff

word count: 3059

a/n: tagging @arkofblake because this technically was smth that she requested before i changed it. also shout out to her mom for the knowledge about phones from the 80s lol

“Steve, you can’t keep staring at her like some sort of lost puppy.” Robin says as she helps Steve put some beer and sodas in the cooler.

“What are you talking about?” He asks as he turns back to the fridge.

“Oh please, you’ve been staring at Nancy and Jonathan ever since they got here.” Robin comments as she opens the bag of ice and clumsily dumps it into the small cooler.

“Have not.” Steve mutters as he shuts the fridge door. Robin gives him a look, the look she seems to be giving him a lot these days. “Okay, fine. I have been staring at them, but not for the reason you’re thinking.”

“Oh really? What other reason is there for you to be staring at your ex and her new boyfriend?” She says suspiciously.

Steve pauses, trying to find the words to express the tangled mess that is his love life. He eventually gives up, shaking his head as he grabs the cooler off the counter and walks outside to the pool. “I can’t explain it.”

“Oh come on, you gotta give me something.” Robin pleads, giving Steve her best puppy dog eyes.

Steve glances over at his best friend before quickly looking away. “Those don’t work on me.” He says definitely, but quickly gives in when he spares another glance at Robin. “Seeing them together just makes me think about all the things I don’t have.”

“Wow, that’s really sad.” Robin says solemnly as she holds the back door open for Steve. “You sure you don’t still have feelings for Nancy?” She adds after another moment of silence. 

“Absolutely positive, Robin. That ship sailed a long time ago.” He explains as he sets the cooler by the pool.

And he wasn’t lying. Steve really was over Nancy. Sure, there had been a time when he thought the two of them would evolve into something more, but that was ages ago. 

But now Steve was alone for the first time in years, and he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He’d been on dates, but they’d turned more into a chore than something he was actually enjoying. They all left him feeling like a piece of him was missing, a piece of himself that he just knew was important. 

“Steve?” A voice called, pulling him from his well of self despair. 

“Yeah?” He says as he turns around, nearly falling over when he notices who’s in front of him.

“Can you move over so I can grab a soda?” Y/N asks politely as she gestures to the cooler behind Steve.

“Oh shit, yeah, of course.” Steve stutters as he moves out of the way, nearly falling into the pool. Y/N gives him an awkward smile as she grabs a soda before walking back over to sit with Jonathan and Nancy. 

“What was all of that about?” Dustin asks as he appears beside Steve, munching on some Goldfish.

“Jesus kid, you need to wear a bell or something!” Steve exclaims as he presses a hand to his fast beating heart. 

“Or maybe you just need to be more observant.” Dustin says mockingly as he flicks a Goldfish at Steve’s face, causing the older male to swat at him.

“Will you two quit it!” Robin says as she separates the two of them. Dustin flips Steve off before going to go sit back with the party and Suzie. 

“I swear that kid has no manners.” Steve mutters to himself as Robin walks away to go sit with Eddie and Chrissy. Steve is so busy mentally planning out his revenge against Henderson that he doesn’t notice a certain someone staring at him like he’s hung the moon and the stars.

—

“Robin, you seriously need glasses or something. How could you put Ferris Bueller and Top Gun in the same section?” Steve complains as he removes the tapes from the shelf.

“Oh quit being a baby and move them, I’m busy here.” Robin calls from the back. Steve rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he moves to the back of the store to grab his cart. 

“I’ll be with you in a minute!” He says when the front door rings. He sets the missorted tapes on a random shelf as he walks back up to the front counter.

“Welcome to Family Video, how can I help y— Y/N?” Steve asks, shocked to see her here.

“Oh, hey Steve. I forgot you worked here.” She says with a laugh as she adjusts her bag on her shoulder. Effortlessly, and beautifully to him, if anyone cared enough to ask what he thought. Which was a rarity. 

Steve gives her a small smile, silently cursing himself for not taking his normal amount of care when he was getting ready this morning. 

Robin really needs to learn some patience.

“Yeah, have been for a while.” He says as he rubs the nape of his neck. “So, what can I help you with today?” 

“Well, my parents are out of town so it’s just me at home. Figured I’d get some movies to keep myself occupied for a while they’re gone.” She explains as she looks around the store before her eyes land on Steve once again, causing a shiver to run down his spine. “Got any recommendations for me?”

“Of course, walk with me.” He says, shooting her his signature smile as he walks over to the staff picks shelf. 

“Is that Labyrinth?” Y/N asks with a chuckle as she picks it up and inspects the back.

Steve groans, rolling his eyes as he sees the movie. “Fucking Eddie. He must’ve snuck it onto the shelf when he was here earlier.”

“Well, he has good taste. Think I’ll be taking this one with me.” She says as she waves the box. Steve can’t explain it, but he feels a small tightness in his chest. 

“To each their own, I guess.” He says with a shrug, trying to ignore this strange feeling. “Anyways, I would definitely recommend these if you’re looking for a more calm night in.” 

Steve hands over The Goonies, The Muppets Take Manhattan, and Back to the Future, waiting patiently for a reaction. 

“Oh my god, is this a Muppets movie?” She asks with a laugh, inspecting the box. “My little cousin loves this movie.”

“Hm, I don’t know how I should feel about that. Are you calling my cinematic taste childish?” Steve asks with a chuckle as he leans against the shelf.

“I would definitely call it that.” Robin says, wheeling a cart as she walks past the two of them. Steve glares at her while Y/N snorts, hiding her smile behind her hand. 

“I wasn’t going to say that it was childish. I was going to say that it’s…interesting.” She explains, her voice pitching up on the last word. 

Steve scoffs at that, shaking his head. “Sure, we’ll go with that.” He says jokingly. “So, will this be all for you?”

“Uh, yeah. This should be good enough for the weekend.” She says as the two of them walk back to the front counter. 

“Glad to be of service.” Steve says as he takes a small bow, cursing himself for how stupid he probably looks. 

“You know, you’re really funny.” Y/N says as Steve rings up the movies. Steve smiles softly, more affected by her words than he would like to admit.

“Could you tell Robin that? She says I have the humor of an old man.” He jokes as he puts the tapes into a bag. Y/N snorts again, this time a little louder. 

“See what I mean? Very funny, Harrington. Very funny.” She says as he hands her the bag. There’s a brief moment of silence before Y/N speaks up again. “Do you wanna come over tomorrow? You know, watch a movie with me or something?” She asks nervously. 

Steve’s mouth hangs open a little, blinking slowly. There was no way he heard that correctly. “You want me to come over?” 

“Yeah. Only if you want to, of course.” She clarifies quickly. 

“Of course I wanna come. I’ll even bring some snacks.” He says as he leans his arms on the counter. 

Y/N smiles at that, nodding her head. “Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She says, giving Steve one final wave before leaving. 

“Man, you are such a doofus.” Robin says as she comes up behind him. 

“Can you not?” Steve says as he turns around to face her. Robin smirks, winking at him before walking away. 

—

“You did what?” Eddie asks with a laugh as he stops strumming on his guitar.

“Don’t laugh at me, I need your help here!” Steve says as he throws his soda can at Eddie.

“Hey, careful! This is my most prized possession.” Eddie says as he throws the can back at Steve, missing him entirely. “Now, tell me exactly what happened.”

“Y/N invited me over, and I went because of course I would, you know? And everything was going really well, at least to me.” Steve explains as he leans back against Eddie’s dresser. 

“Okay, doesn’t sound too bad so far. What happened after that?” Eddie says as he turns the knobs on his guitar. 

“Then I thanked her for inviting me and left.” Steve says simply. Eddie abruptly stops what he’s doing, setting his guitar down on his bed.

“You did what now?” Eddie exclaims as he stands from the bed, causing Steve to look up at him. 

“Left. Why, what’s wrong?” He asked, very confused by Eddie’s sudden outburst. 

“You’re a fucking idiot, that’s what’s wrong.” Eddie says as he grabs Steve’s arm and hauls him into the living room. “Stand right there.” 

Steve grumbles something under his breath as he rubs his arm where Eddie had grabbed it. “Since when are you strong?”

“Amps are heavy as shit man. Now shush.” He says as he dials a number on the phone. Steve mutters something about Eddie being rude as he watches him press the phone to his ear. 

“Who are you calling?” Steve asks, only to be shushed by Eddie. Steve rolls his eyes, watching as Eddie waits for the person on the other end to pick up. 

“Hey Y/N! Do you have a moment to talk?” Eddie says when the person on the other end picks up. Steve automatically stands up straighter, listening closely to try and hear what Y/N was saying. 

“— Not in the mood—” Is the only thing that Steve can make out from here, causing him to frown. Was Y/N really that upset with him that she didn’t want to talk to anyone?

“Just humor me, please? What exactly happened yesterday with Harrington?” Eddie asks as Steve gets closer to the phone.

“I did what you and Robin told me to and asked Steve out, and absolutely nothing happened. I even tried scooting closer to him to see if he would catch the hint, but he didn’t! And then when it was time for him to leave, I went to kiss his cheek and he hugged me, Eddie. He hugged me!” Y/N rants from the other end of the line. “So either everyone is bullshitting me and Steve Harrington actually isn’t into me, or he’s the most oblivious man on the face of the planet.” 

Eddie gives Steve a knowing look as he says his goodbyes before hanging up the phone. “See? Idiot.”

Steve bangs his head against the wall as Eddie pats him pitifully on the shoulder. “So you mean to tell me that yesterday was supposed to be a date?” He finally says when he’s done with his attempt to knock some sense into himself. 

“It was a date. Could you honestly not tell?” Eddie asks as he crosses his arms over his chest. 

“No! I just thought that she was trying to be nice!” Steve says as he slides down the wall. 

“Man, can’t believe this. Former king of Hawkins High is sitting on the floor of my trailer, having a crisis because he blew a date with a pretty girl.” Eddie says as he shakes his head. Steve doesn’t even bother responding, sitting there with his head in his hands. “So, are you going to try and fix it or not?”

“What do you mean?” Steve asks as he finally looks up.

“God, since when did I become the smart one here?” Eddie asks in mock disappointment. “You need to go back over to Y/N’s and make everything right.” 

“How am I supposed to do that? I think you of all people should know that I’m not good with this stuff.” Steve said as he stood up. Eddie groans, rubbing his hands over his face. 

“My god, Harrington. You’re hopeless.” He says. “Here, I’ll tell you exactly what to do.”

Under any other circumstance, those words would’ve sent fear straight into Steve’s heart. Especially coming from someone like Eddie. But he was desperate, and desperate people don’t always make the smartest decisions. 

—

Steve stands outside of Y/N’s door, her favorite flowers in hand. He stands there for a moment, mentally going over everything that Eddie told him to say. He takes a deep breath before giving up and knocking on the door.

It’s silent for a moment before Steve hears the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. The door opens up to reveal Y/N standing there, arms over her chest.

“What do you want, Harrington?” She asks coldly. Steve gulps at that, rocking back and forth on his feet a little. Guess I deserve that a little.

“I just came here to apologize. For yesterday.” He says as he holds out the bouquet of flowers. Y/N hesitates before taking the flowers from him, smelling them quickly.

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” She asks after a moment.

“For being an idiot. If I had known that you wanted yesterday to be a date, I would’ve handled things a lot differently.” Steve explains as he nervously shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Different? Different how?” She asks as she leans against the doorframe. Steve pauses, trying to think of the best way to say what he wanted to say.

“Can I come in? I think it would be better.” He asks as he scratches his head. Y/N gives him a suspicious look before stepping aside and gesturing to the living room. Steve mutters a small thank you as the two of them walk into the living room and sit on the couch. 

“So, what exactly is it that you would’ve done differently?” She asks as she sets the flowers on the coffee table. 

“For starters, I wouldn’t have let our first date just be us watching a Muppets movie on your couch.” Steve says in a joking tone, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. “If I had known, I would have taken you out to dinner. Hell, if you really wanted I would’ve taken you to go see one but god I would not have gone to go see a freaking kids movie.”

“Why, what’s wrong with kids' movies?” Y/N asks teasingly, causing Steve to laugh for the first time since he got there. 

“I guess you’re right.” Steve says as he turns to face Y/N. “Can we get a do over date? I promise that this time I won’t act like a complete idiot.” He says sincerely. Y/N seems to mull it over for a moment before looking up at Steve.

“Promise?” She asks softly, as if she was still hurt and embarrassed from what happened the night before. 

“Swear on my life. And you know if I break it, I’ll have Nancy, Robin, and Eddie on my ass about it.” He adds jokingly, but it isn’t really a joke. He had seen first hand how scary Nancy could be when she was upset, and he did not want to be on the receiving end of her wrath. Again. 

“Fine. But I’ll need you to ask me properly.” She says after a longer moment of consideration, sitting up straight against the back of the couch.

“Fine by me.” Steve says as he stands up, pulling Y/N with him. They give each other small smiles before Steve clears his throat dramatically. “Y/N, I’ve had feelings for you for a while now. Longer than I would personally like to admit. So, will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?” 

Y/N stands with their hand on their chin, looking off into space as she pretends to think long and hard about Steve’s offer. Steve starts to get nervous that she might actually reject him when she leans up, pressing a quick peck to his cheek. “Of course I’ll go out with you, Steve.” 

Steve feels the heat rush to his cheek at Y/N’s actions, looking down at them with the biggest grin in the world. “You know, technically we’ve already had our first date. So it wouldn’t be completely insane of me to kiss you, would it?” He asks as he steps closer to her. 

Y/N lets out a chuckle before responding, her hands behind her back. “No, no. I don’t think it would be completely insane, as you put it.” 

That’s all the permission Steve needs before he pulls Y/N closer by her hips, their lips slotting together perfectly. He feels more than hears her sigh into the kiss as she raises her arms to wrap them around his neck. 

When they both pull away for air, Steve swears he can see all the stars in her eyes. “That was…”

“Wow, how many girls can say that they took Steve Harrington’s breath away after a single kiss?” She asks teasingly, although it was easy to tell by the heat of her cheeks that she was just as — if not more — affected by the kiss as Steve was. 

Steve rolls his eyes, which was seeming to become a common practice for him these days. “Way to ruin the moment.”

Y/N shrugs, giving Steve one of her award winning smiles. At least they were in his mind. “What can I say, it’s one of my many special talents.”

[worth-the-chaos]

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: With the events of last fall in the past, you attempt to move on, still working on your academics and babysitting Dustin. You and Steve have drifted since your encounter with the otherworldly, but he begins to make more active efforts to talk to you, making sure you have an invite to Tina’s big Halloween party.

Content Warning: swearing, stancy, reference to upside down stuff, billy being an ass, college application stress, drinking, anxiety and trauma

Word Count: 6.3k

Author’s Note: Again, I’m trying to follow a lot of the plot lines of the series for this x reader, so a lot of it is probably a bit familiar! This part follows the reader’s involvement through Halloween, when things begin to turn sour again.

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Next Part

***

You took a deep breath as you looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Half-dressed for the day, your eyes couldn’t help but focus on the scars that littered your upper arm, remembering when they used to be deep gashes.

It had been about a year since you stood in the Byers’ house fighting for your life against the horrifying entity from what the kids elected to call the Upside Down. Though your physical wounds had healed, the emotional ones still lingered. Every once in a while, fear invaded your consciousness as you thought back to the flashing lights and the low growl resonating through the small family room. Sometimes when you closed your eyes, you could still see the rows and rows of razor sharp teeth, inching closer and closer to your face.

It was paralyzing, but you shoved those thoughts and feelings aside as you threw a long sleeve shirt on, covering the physical evidence of your fight against the supernatural. Stop thinking about that, you reminded yourself, it’s all over now.

The walk to Hawkins High wasn’t terribly long, though you did still wish you were fortunate enough to afford a vehicle of your own. Once you finally reached the parking lot, a car honk drew you from your thoughts and you were met with the familiar face of the one and only Steve Harrington as he smiled and waved from the driver’s seat. Sat next to him was Nancy Wheeler. Steve’s talk with her in the hospital evidently had been successful because they’d been back together since then, coming up on their first anniversary. You found it difficult to be happy for the couple, but you pushed the jealousy down in your chest and did a small wave back, a half smile on your face. Nancy didn’t respond with the same enthusiasm as Steve, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

The window suddenly rolled down and Steve called out, “Hey y/n! I’ll see you in study hall! I have a question for you!”

“Okay…? See you then, I guess,” you responded, a bit surprised. Since last year, Steve had rethought his life choices. He wasn’t the same douchebag he’d been when he broke Jonathan’s camera and called Nancy a slut. He dropped Tommy H and Carol, started focusing a bit more on school, and was generally a lot nicer than he used to be. However, despite the way you both risked your lives together, blindsided by the paranormal darkness lurking in Hawkins, you both kind of fell out of touch.

He had Nancy and you had…well, you had your studies. And your babysitting gig. One year strong babysitting the Henderson kid, and only one apocalyptic encounter. Needless to say, you were doing pretty damn good.

Suddenly, the sound of tires screeching on the pavement drew the focus of the three of you away from the semi-awkward encounter, watching as a car with California plates peeled into the parking lot. A boy you didn’t recognize stepped out of the car, flicking his cigarette behind him. A young girl emerged from the passenger seat, turning and making her way down the hill in the direction of Hawkins Middle.

You scoffed, being the impeccable babysitter that you were. Was this guy really too lazy to drop his kid sister off at her school that was less than a block away?

He swung his car door shut and paused, looking you up and down before sending a wink and smirk your direction and turning to make his way into the high school. Your hands gripped your backpack straps a little tighter, feeling like an object to be used or consumed under his gaze. You didn’t have a good feeling about this boy, and something told you that Hawkins High had found its replacement for the King Steve that disappeared when Harrington wisened up last year.

“Who is that guy?” You suddenly heard Steve’s voice ask, annoyance painted on his face. He wasn’t too thrilled with the way he had looked at you. Steve knew the type of guy he was; the type that wouldn’t take no for an answer, and in that moment despite the countless girls drooling over his dumbass mullet, he had zeroed in on you.

“Must be new,” you responded, forcing a smile in an attempt to demonstrate that the mystery boy’s actions hadn’t fazed you. You fought an otherworldly entity; surely you could handle some asshole jock. In a way, you already had, and look how that turned out.

“The two of you should steer clear of him. He’s bad news,” Steve warned. Nancy and you didn’t argue, nodding before you took off to enter the building so you wouldn’t be late for first period.

By the time you were on your way to third period study hall, you had already spent the morning contemplating what Steve could possibly have to ask you. It was your junior year, his senior, and while you were taking it for the extra study time, he was taking it to avoid coursework from one more class, largely using it as a time to take a school sanctioned nap. As such, normally you didn’t interact much during the one hour break from boring lectures and busy work.

“Hey,” Steve whispered as he slid into the chair next to you, a stark juxtaposition to the way he slammed his textbooks on the desk, causing you to jump.

“What? Not taking your spot in the back corner so you can sleep without Mrs. Reed giving you shit?” You asked, staring up at him innocently.

“Actually, I was thinking I could get us out of here for the hour.”

“And how do you suppose that’s going to happen?”

“I’ll put on the old Harrington charm…just watch,” he smirked as he stood up, grabbing you by the elbow to drag you to the teacher’s desk. Mrs. Reed was not the type of person to mess with. She wore her hair up in a slicked back bun that meant business, wearing a scowl like it was an accessory. You seriously doubted the “Harrington charm” was going to do shit to get you out of that classroom.

She glared at the boy through her thin wire glasses, clearly not in the mood for his shenanigans. “Is there a problem?” She droned out, her expression fixing further into annoyance, if that was even possible.

“Actually, Mrs. Reed, I’m afraid there is,” he started, “you see, y/n here was just telling me about how she has this big presentation in her fourth hour class, and she was really hoping for an opportunity to practice. Is there any possible way you’d be so gracious as to let us utilize one of the study rooms in the library? I mean, we can’t go letting Hawkins’ star pupil do anything less than ace this thing, am I right?”

He shook you by your shoulders a bit at the end, and even though the compliment was nothing more than a lie, you still flushed under the praise. It wasn’t everyday that you got complimented in front of your entire study hall class by the most popular student in the school.

“Is that so, y/n?” She turned to you.

“You know me and my nerves, Mrs. Reed; I could really use the help. And besides, Steve is probably about the most rowdy audience I could possibly have, so presenting after this will be a piece of cake,” you pasted a smile on your face. You felt bad lying to her; she’d been a pretty decent English teacher your sophomore year.

“Fine. Don’t worry about coming back before the end of the hour. I know I can trust you to keep Harrington in line,” she answered, glaring at Steve before turning back to the work on her desk, done with the bullshit of high school students; the good ones and the bad ones alike.

You both quickly thanked her before Steve grabbed both of your backpacks and you headed out the door.

“Okay, if I’m going to be completely honest, I was about 85% sure that wasn’t going to work. Mrs. Reed fucking hates me…like a lot,” Steve breathed out as he tossed you your bag, his cocky facade finally dissipating as he continued down the hall.

“This better be a good fucking question, Steve,” you grumbled, not happy about the lie he forced you into, “what am I supposed to do if she asks me about my presentation? What am I supposed to do if she talks to Mr. Hayes?”

“Woah, woah, woah, cool your jets,” he rolled his eyes, “Mrs. Reed is probably a year or two away from retirement and barely even cares about the shit she’s teaching, so I think you’re going to be fine.”

You entered the library, quickly moving to one of the study rooms. You tossed your bag on the floor, already tired from the day and not fully emotionally prepared to spend an hour one on one with Steve.

“Alright, what’s the deal?” You asked as you sat in one of the chairs, crossing your arms as your face fixed into a glare.

“Well, first of all, here,” he shoved an obnoxiously orange flyer at you. You grabbed it a bit aggressively, still not super happy with the boy in front of you. He had a dorky-ass grin on his face though, and it almost broke the cold exterior you were trying to keep up….almost.

“‘Tina’s Halloween Bash, come and get sheet faced,’ are you kidding me? This is what we’re skipping study hall for? Dude, I have an AP chem test this week that I really needed to study for,” you whined, shoving the flyer back at him.

“No, of course this isn’t the reason we’re skipping. I may be dumb, but I’m not an idiot,” he said as he shoved the flyer back at you, “It’s just…I know you never go out, a-and—and it’s Halloween! You can’t stay in on Halloween! Plus, Nancy and I are going to be there, so it’ll be fun, I swear it.”

He leaned across the table, the elbow of his right arm settling right in the middle as he reached his hand towards you. Your focus shifted to his extended pinky. You looked at him incredulously as he waggled it a few times, looking at you with his big brown puppy dog eyes. This boy was going to be the death of you, but you wrapped your small pinky around his anyway.

“I’ll consider it. That’s the best you’re getting.”

“You know what, I’ll take it. Which brings me to my next topic, and pretty much the entire reason for this in the first place, which is that Nancy thinks my application essay sucks and I really need some fucking help,” Steve leaned back while he ran his hands down his face.

You felt a pang in your heart because you knew how stressful this all probably was for the boy. You’d been smart and planned accordingly, so getting into colleges wasn’t the part that was stressing you out; it was the finances that did. Steve on the other hand had screwed around for two and a half years and now somehow needed to manage turning things around enough so that he had even a fighting chance.

“Just give it to me,” you sighed and he quickly handed over the essay he had written.

Steve watched your eyes scan the page as you read the words that he had spent the last week writing. He was a bit embarrassed, to say the least; he had taken one English class with you last semester and knew that he didn’t even write half as well as you did. Hell, Nancy didn’t even come close and her writing was really, really good.

“You…you compared winning a basketball game to your grandfather fighting in the war?” You asked incredulously.

“…yeah?”

“Steve.”

“I know, I know! It’s bad, but that’s why I need your help! I was gonna have Nancy help me but we have this thing tonight and I can’t miss it and—“

You cut him off. “Steve, stop talking. I can help you…but I think you’re going to have to rewrite this whole thing.”

Steve hung his head and buried his face in his hands. Of course I’m gonna have to rewrite the damn thing because it can never just be fucking easy. He felt your hands pull on his wrist and he looked up, finding you staring at him sweetly. A bit pitying, but it was still sweet. With that, some of his anger subsided and he took a deep breath.

“You just need to find something more meaningful to you. I mean, I can tell your heart really isn’t in this. Besides, sometimes the best essays are about the things you’ve lost, not the things you’ve won.”

Steve thought about this. He lived a pretty privileged life. He didn’t want for anything, his future was pretty much set so long as he took the job at his dad’s company, he had the girl, the car, the hair, etc. Sure, his parents kind of really, really sucked but that was small potatoes compared to all of the things he had easy. It was hard to think of something he really, truly lost.

He almost had lost you.

His thoughts flashed to the demogorgon, the way his heart stopped and instinct took over as he had swung the bat with all his might to get the damn thing away from you. He pushed the thought away and suddenly he wasn’t interested in working on this essay anymore.

“You know what? You’re right. I’m gonna need some time to brainstorm some things to write about, but in the meantime, how about we focus on that AP chem test, huh? I mean, there’s no way you don’t have color-coded flash cards and all that jazz”

“Steve, you really don’t have to. I’m sure you have a lot better things to do than to help me cram for some dumb test.”

“Hey, first of all, if it’s important to you, it’s not dumb. Secondly, I might be a shit learner, but I’m a pretty damn good quizzer, so hand ‘em over,” he motioned for you to hand him your index cards as you sheepishly pulled them out of your backpack in their color-coded glory.

“How could I have possibly known?” He feigned surprise.

“Shut up, Harrington.”

***

When all was said and done, you felt moderately better about your AP chem test. Steve wasn’t lying when he said he was a good quizzer; by now, you had every word on every one of those damn cards memorized. During your walk to the Henderson household, you pulled the bright orange flyer out of your pocket. You couldn’t help but smile thinking back to Steve inviting you. He wanted you to be there.

“Y/n!” Dustin drew you out of your thoughts as you quickly shoved the flyer back into your back pocket. The middle school and the high school let out at the same time. He wasn’t far behind you, sat atop his bike as he hopped off and walked with it next to him so he could talk to you.

“You can ride your bike home. I seriously doubt you can get into any serious sort of trouble in the five minutes it takes me to catch up,” you reminded him, though you weren’t entirely sure that was true; in fact, the boy was such a problem sometimes that you considered upping your rate to charge his mom for hazard pay.

“First off, I think you underestimate how much faster I can get home on my bike than you can on foot. Secondly, what was that you just put in your pocket?”

“It-It’s nothing,” you said maybe a little too quickly as your face heated up.

“Bullshit. Spill.”

You sighed. “It’s just some stupid flyer for a big Halloween party. Nothing that concerns you, unless you somehow age several years in the next few days and are suddenly eligible to attend,” you joked, sarcasm lacing your tone as you tried to gather your bearings and act more casual. He didn’t need to know that, to you, it was more than just some Halloween party; it was a Halloween party that Steve Harrington had invited you to.

“You don’t go to parties though,” Dustin was quick to remind you. He was right. Sure, early on in high school you’d been invited to a few, but after you continued to decline, people stopped reaching out.

“Well…there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” you muttered.

“Are you gonna dress up?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who invited you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Was it a guy?”

“No!”

“So it was a guy!” Dustin exclaimed. You rolled your eyes and jogged ahead, trying to put some distance between you and the incessant questioning of the boy you had the great misfortune of babysitting.

“Your silence is incriminating!” He shouted after you, unable to run very gracefully while attempting to guide a bike around.

You shook your head and sighed. Could babysitting Henderson ever be easy?

***

You walked towards Tina’s house feeling more than just stupid. You didn’t even know Tina super well outside of her always bumming notes off of you when she missed fifth period French. After your conversation with Dustin, you began considering the many elements of a Halloween party that had slipped your mind when you pinky promised Steve you’d go. You hadn’t thought about a costume because, frankly, you hadn’t initially been planning on doing anything for Halloween; it was just going to be another Wednesday for you.

As such, you had decided not to dress up, instead opting to pick apart your closet to find clothes that would maybe scream “party,” settling on your favorite pair of jeans, a low cut black tank top, and a denim jacket. So, yeah, you weren’t in costume, but at least your tits had kind of showed up to the party, so you decided that was good enough.

The mess of bodies dancing at different levels of sobriety made it difficult to navigate the front lawn and you hoped with all your might that Steve and Nancy were already there. You got closer to the front door when you heard the headache inducing sounds of high school testosterone as a bunch of the douchebags from Hawkins High hyped up Mr. California for doing an absurdly long keg stand.

Gee. Great.

As you reached to grasp the doorknob to let yourself into the party, a hand from behind you slammed the door back shut just as soon as you had opened it. You were met eye to eye with the mullet headed, leather jacket wearing douchebag himself. Something was off about this boy (besides the fact that he was unbelievably hammered), and you thought back to Steve’s warning to stay away.

“Hey,” he slurred as he looked you up and down, his eyes pausing longer than they should’ve when they reached your chest. You felt small under his hungry gaze, but you refused to allow yourself to visibly shrink so you straightened your posture and forced your chin up as you looked him in the eye.

“Excuse you,” you muttered as you tried to pull on the door handle again. Obviously it didn’t budge, and he laughed at your attempt. You scowled as you met his eyes again. “What’s your deal, man?”

“The name’s Billy. Billy Hargrove,” he shot you a smirk that screamed trouble as he extended his hand towards you, offering up a handshake.

What a total ass. Fortunately though, he was cocky enough to think that striking up a conversation would cause you to stay, removing his hand from the door, so you took the opportunity to maneuver past him, opening the door and slipping inside.

“Frankly, I don’t give a shit,” you added before slamming the door in his face. You saw the look of shock flash across his features before he disappeared from view and you couldn’t help but feel good about it. The feeling quickly dissipated though as you attempted to weave around the living room, nearly tripping as you made your way into the kitchen where you met Nancy.

“What’s in this?” She was asking a guy in a toga. You recognized him from your second period class, but you didn’t know his name.

“Pure fuel! Pure fuel! Whoo!” He shouted back at her, and you realized you were perfectly fine not getting to know him.

“Well, with that ringing endorsement, we’d be dumb not to have a little, right?” You chuckled and Nancy spun around at the sound of your voice.

“Y/n, you made it,” she said, smile not really touching her eyes, “Steve wasn’t sure you were going to show.” Both of you dipped red solo cups into the questionable mixture, filling them up with the red mix of booze and punch.

“Yep, here I am. In the flesh,” you laughed again, trying to dispel the awkward energy. Something about her seemed off; normally she would be much more friendly. You hoped that you hadn’t done anything to upset her. “Nancy, is everything okay?” You asked quietly as you gently grabbed her wrist.

“I’m fine,” she replied as her jaw set and her tone told you not to push the question. You let go of her wrist and nodded, letting her know that you were going to let it go for now. Her body relaxed and you lifted up your cup toward her.

“Cheers?” You asked with a half smile on your face. This earned you a small smile from the girl as she brought her cup up to tap yours. You smiled and both of you brought your cups to your lips, you taking a small sip while she threw her head back and downed the whole glass.

“Hey! Woah, woah, woah, take it easy! Nance!” Steve was suddenly beside you, reaching across you to try and grab the cup out of her hand.

“We’re just being stupid teenagers for the night. Wasn’t that the deal?” She glared at him before downing more punch, wiping away the bit that spilled onto her face, and shoving her way into the crowd to dance.

Steve’s expression fell a bit as he watched her leave, but his focus shifted to you. “Sorry about that. She’s just…in a bit of a mood today,” he apologized and shook his head, “but I’m so glad you’re here! I mean, I was pretty sure you were gonna bail on me considering I know for a fact that you were invited to some of my house parties last year and you didn’t show.”

“How dare I, right?” You rolled your eyes and chuckled. It’s true. You had been invited to his parties, especially after your encounter with the demogorgon had brought the two of you together in a weird but irreversible way. You would always have that experience, but you weren’t interested in changing for him. Besides, he was never the one to personally extend the invitation, instead you heard about it from someone else every time.

“You aren’t in costume.”

“Way to point out the obvious,” you retorted, finishing your first cup of punch. Steve shot you a look, clearly not trusting that you knew your limits with alcohol. “You’re joking, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it seems a bit hypocritical for the king of parties himself to be judgmental about someone else’s drinking habits.”

“Well, it’s exactly that. I don’t get the impression that you have drinking habits, and if it’s your first time drinking, you should watch yourself, you know? Can’t fault me for looking out for a friend,” he added and you bristled a bit at that last word. Friend.

“Y/n, what?” He asked, noticing your reaction. You sighed before responding, not really sure how this conversation was going to go.

“So…we’re friends now?” You asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.

Steve was taken aback, clearly confused by your confusion. “What do you mean? Of course we’re friends! Y/n, we went through so much together last year, I mean, did you really think I was just gonna drop you like all that shit didn’t matter?”

“You kind of did. It’s not like we hang out or really talk or anything remotely close to what friends would do. We’re just two people who know each other a little bit better than we did. I wouldn’t necessarily call that ‘being friends’,” you responded, putting air quotes around the final words. You hoped that your statement didn’t hurt him. It was the truth though. Your shoulders tensed as you awaited his response.

“You know what? You’re right y/n, and I’m sorry. I should’ve done more to keep in touch, and I’m not going to make any excuses. So let’s just start over, okay?” He asked, his big brown eyes staring into yours.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you nodded, not trusting that your voice wouldn’t fail you.

“Alright, perfect,” he smiled, and suddenly he extended his hand towards you, “hey, I’m Steve. I don’t know you but you seem pretty tough, and like you might have some killer fighting instincts, so I thought we could be friends.”

You laughed. Like really laughed, and Steve was beaming. You wiped away a tear that slipped from your eye as you took a breath to regain your composure. It was all so absurd and perfect and so incredibly Steve that you couldn’t help but accept his offer. You willed your palms not to sweat as you grabbed his hand and shook it, “Well, I’m y/n, and yeah, you’re right; I do have some pretty kick-ass instincts, but I can’t promise it will keep you out of trouble.”

“That’s okay because I’ve got some pretty kick-ass moves myself, so I think we’ve got it covered,” he added, smiling at you. He let go of your hand before saying “well, Nancy’s probably halfway to being shit faced, so we should probably go party it up with her while her memory’s still intact.”

You nodded as you turned to exit the kitchen, Steve placing a hand on your back as he guided you through the mess of people dancing to get to Nancy. It was fun to let loose and dance, and you wondered why you hadn’t let yourself party like this before. It felt freeing, and you felt the slight buzz from the drinks that you’d had as you let your body move to the music that was almost too loud to hear yourself think.

Suddenly, you felt hands around your waist, and you instantly sobered up, remembering a big part of why you didn’t like parties: asshole guys who were just looking for a quick hook up.

“Hey!” You shouted as you turned around, eyes met with the same piercing blue ones from earlier.

“Woah, no need to get all angry, baby. I gotta say it’s pretty hot though,” Billy chuckled as he moved his hands to grab at your waist again. You maneuvered away from his grasp, swatting his hands away.

“Can’t you tell I’m not fucking interested,” you replied.

“Baby, come on—“

You cut him off, “I’m not your fucking baby.”

“No need to be a bitch about it, come on. Can’t have a little fun?”

“She said she’s not interested, dude. Leave her alone,” Steve spoke up, having realized the position you were in. He moved to stand between the two of you, pulling you by the wrist behind him. Nancy was pretty wasted but aware enough to act, as she took your hand and pulled you farther away, weaving through the crowd to create some distance.

“Sorry, I wasn’t aware that you had two girlfriends, Harrington. I mean, I’m shocked you even have the one to begin with,” Billy retorted, taking a step towards Steve.

Steve stood his ground, knowing it wasn’t worth it to get heated over Billy’s comments. Billy just wanted to get a rise out of him and Steve wasn’t going to let him have the satisfaction.

“I’m just looking out for a girl that needs help. If you’re not going to listen to her maybe you’ll listen to a guy, okay? So walk away.”

“Whatever, Harrington,” Billy replied as he shoved Steve in the shoulder and turned around to walk away. Tommy H was hot on his heels, a mindless dummy and fair weather fan to whoever he deemed to be top dog at any given moment.

“Y/n, are you alright?” Steve caught up with you and Nancy.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Ugh, I just hate assholes, like come on!” You exclaimed, hugging your arms around yourself in an attempt to be self-soothing.

Steve opened his mouth to apologize when he realized Nancy was going back to the punch bowl. He quickly pivoted, following her into the kitchen. “Nancy, no, you’ve had enough, okay?” He said as he tried to grab the cup out of her hand again like he had earlier.

“Screw you,” she slurred, pulling her hand out of his reach and dunking her cup in the bowl.

“No, Nancy, I’m serious! Stop…Nance, put it down,” he warned, grabbing at the cup again. Nancy continued to protest, and Steve continued to fight it until he lost his grip on the cup and its bright red contents went spilling onto Nancy’s pristine white shirt. An audible gasp rang out through the party as those in the near vicinity stopped their dancing to gawk at Hawkins’ power couple’s power struggle.

“What the hell?” Nancy whispered as she stormed out of the room, and Steve pushed past you to follow, yelling after her. And just like that, you were alone. Without Steve and Nancy’s presence to calm you down, you felt your anxiety rise in your throat. You scanned the crowd, trying to find anyone that you knew moderately well enough to crash their group, and when you found no one, you cursed yourself for being such a loner. That was until your eyes met Jonathan Byers’, dressed equally un-festively, and you sighed a huge sigh of relief.

“Jonathan!” You shouted over the music, making your way over to him. Clearly he had seen what just transpired between Nancy and Steve, eyes darting back to focus on the hallway they’d disappeared down.

“Hey, y/n. What just happened?”

“Nancy’s pretty wasted and Steve was trying to cut her off and he spilled her drink on her. They’re probably in the bathroom trying to clean it up, though I doubt it’ll do any good. That punch is definitely going to stain.”

You didn’t know Jonathan super well, but you resonated with him. Both of you were more inclined to keep to yourselves, but via absurd and inter-dimensional means, ended up intertwined in the lives of your high school’s most popular couple. You saw the way he looked at Nancy when they talked, and it wasn’t dissimilar to how you looked at Steve; wanting for something that you couldn’t have but settling for what you did.

The two of you found a quiet corner and continued to make small talk, catching up on each other’s lives since you didn’t talk much. Jonathan told you about how Will was struggling, still visiting Hawkins’ Lab for appointments in an attempt to sort out his PTSD.

“The doctor says it’s some anniversary effect, and how since we’re coming up on a year, he’s just more on edge than usual. He’s been having these episodes though.”

“Episodes?”

“Yeah, they’re kind of like these waking nightmares I guess. He’s still scared out of his mind, y/n,” Jonathan explained, and you saw the pain in his expression. Your heart ached and you felt a lump in your throat as you thought about the way the poor kid was struggling. You wished you could just make it all go away, that you could erase it ever happening in the first place.

“And you trust this guy? The doctor I mean?” You asked hesitantly.

“He seems like a good guy. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like he’s being completely transparent. I guess I’m on edge too. It just seems like everyone’s bracing for something else to happen,” Jonathan added, and you felt the tension in your shoulders as he said it.

Suddenly, Steve stormed through the family room, Nancy noticeably absent. He quickly maneuvered through the crowd, reaching the front door and slamming it shut behind him.

You looked at Jonathan. “Divide and conquer?” You asked, knowing that the two of you were going to have to pick up the pieces of whatever had happened between the two of them. Jonathan quickly nodded, as you dropped your prior conversation. “Okay, I don’t have a car and Nancy’s not in a state to walk home, so you take care of her and I’ll handle Steve,” you added as you started walking backwards to make your way towards the door.

“Are you sure? He seems pretty mad.”

“I’ve handled worse!” You shouted back as you turned and swiftly made it out the door. Your eyes scanned the front lawn, still littered with people, but they quickly found the brown mop of hair that you had become familiar with just as he was reaching his car.

“Steve!” You shouted, but he ignored you, fumbling with his keys as he tried to unlock the door. By the time he finally managed to get it unlocked and opened, you had grabbed the side of the door so he couldn’t close it and drive off.

“Y/n, just leave me alone, okay? I’m seriously not in the mood,” he warned, his head hung as he tried desperately to avoid eye contact with you. His voice wavered a bit and you could tell by his body language that he was pretty upset.

“No, I’m not going to leave you alone; you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“Then get in the car because I’m not fucking staying here,” he sighed and you hesitated before moving around to the passenger seat.

“What happened?” You gently asked as he began to pull away from Tina’s house, the night that you had all been anticipating clearly ending in disaster.

“Oh, you know, just Nancy saying that our relationship is pretty much complete and utter bullshit which is what every guy wants to hear from the woman that he loves,” he replied. His announcement of his love for Nancy stung, but you pushed it aside; this wasn’t about your feelings.

“What do you mean? What’s going on? You guys always seem so happy together,” you were honestly pretty shocked. They were the perfect couple; the kind of people who would end up high school sweethearts and the talk of every high school reunion. It couldn’t possibly all be bullshit.

“The Hollands are selling their house to pay some private investigator to find Barb.”

Oh.

Your stomach dropped and suddenly your body seemed to remember the alcohol you had consumed.

“Steve, stop the car.”

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s going on? Are you—“

You cut him off, shouting “just stop the damn car! Now!” The car screeched to a halt as he slammed his foot on the brake pedal. You quickly opened the door, retching onto the desolate backroad that you were currently on. Steve rubbed big circles across your back as your stomach emptied its contents. When you were done, you shut the door, tears running down your face.

“I’m so sorry, Steve. Sometimes I just forget about all of it; push it all away because I’m not ready to handle it and I just think about what it was like to be face to face with th-that—that thing and I can’t imagine what Barb’s final moments were like and I just—“ your sobs cut you off, unable to speak through your horror in contemplating Barb’s death.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay y/n. I’m right here,” Steve reminded you, pulling you into a hug as you buried your face in his neck. He held onto you until you were able to calm down and you pulled away from him.

“I’m sorry. I monopolized your turn being the one in crisis,” you let out a weak laugh, wiping the remaining tears from your eyes as you sniffled.

“No, honestly that was helpful. I think I get where Nancy’s coming from a little better now. Maybe she didn’t really mean all that shit about us, you know?” He rationalized.

“Yeah, maybe,” you replied, your voice small.

“Hey, don’t disappear on me now. We’re handling this crisis together and we’re putting it behind us, okay? So what’s going on?”

“It’s just…I was almost her,” you whispered, looking in horror at Steve.

“What?”

“I was almost Barb. If you hadn’t shown up—“

“Y/n, don’t think like that. You can’t think like that. It’s going to eat away at you. You’re here. I’m here. And we’re okay,” it seemed like he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince you. You nodded, not entirely persuaded but ready to be done with the conversation. “Alright, where to?”

“Just mine, you know,” you said quietly, embarrassed that Steve was going to see your house. It was dinky compared to the Harrington residence. You knew he wouldn’t care, but you couldn’t help but feel inferior.

“Sure thing,” he replied as he put the car in drive, as you both attempted to put the evening’s sourness behind you. You chatted and caught up on all of the normal things you’d missed as you’d drifted apart this past year and by the time he reached your house, you felt a little bit better about things.

If only the two of you knew about the danger that was still lurking right under your feet.

***

a/n: I hoped y’all liked this chapter! I’m so excited to continue this story as we unpack all of the upside down nonsense of season 2! I’m new to this whole writing fanfic thing, so if you really liked it, I would be forever grateful if you would be so kind as to reblog it! It really helps it get to other people!

[maria-scribbles]

meet me at midnight

summary: new year's eve, 1983. a rooftop, an epiphany, and a kiss that changes everything

wc: 5k

ship: eddie munson x f!henderson!reader

warnings: underage drinking, mentions of drugs and smoking, mention of barb's death (rip queen), stancy (eugh), kissing, the reader being jealous and insecure and also kinda stupid.

a/n: writing stancy made me physically ill. i really do love nancy but i'm afraid i wrote her terribly ooc in this ugh. also, do i headcannon eddie as a saxophone player? yes, yes i do. why? no fucking clue. robin's favorite band is named 'blush' after maya hawke's first album.

-

meet me at midnight

December 31st, 1983

"Sweet dreams are made of this, who am I to disagree?"

You were inclined to, that's for sure.

Annie Lennox's voice booms throughout the house as you tuck yourself further into the corner you've managed to claim, a lukewarm cup of punch in hand. It feels like the entire student body of Hawkins High is here at Tina's party, bodies jostling each other on the makeshift dance floor and spilling down the hallway like an overflowing sink, even trickling outside onto the deck to smoke despite the frosty air.

You shift your weight from one heeled boot to the other and choke down a sip of your drink, wincing at the alcohol burning its way down your throat. Leave it to some thickheaded jock to make a punch that's almost entirely rum, you think as you abandon the solo cup on the nearest shelf and pull your sweater sleeve down to check the time.

It's not nearly as late as you'd hoped, the glowing green numbers reading ten-thirty, and you drop your arm with a sigh. An hour and a half before midnight and an hour and a half way too long in your opinion.

"Having fun?" Nancy's face is flushed as she squeezes her way through the dancing crowd to you, dragging Steve by the hand.

Absolutely not.

"Oh, totally!" Your smile feels so forced you're sure she'll notice and call you out but it never comes, both to your relief and disappointment; once upon a time you'd been thick as thieves, the best of friends just like your little brother and hers, before she'd ditched you for Barb and left you behind in the dust.

Barb, whose body lies in another dimension, frozen forever at sixteen.

Yeah, you're still processing that last part and you were there, standing beside Dustin as Eleven confirmed Nancy's worst fear, heart breaking for your former best friend as she cried into Jonathan's arms.

(Later that night, when everything was said and done and you were safe in bed with your little brother sleeping soundly across the hall was when you cried for Barb, too, a girl who was kind and innocent and undeserving of her terrible fate.)

Your relationship's been on the mend ever since but as much as it hurts to admit, you'll never be as close as you once were and Nancy's inability -or unwillingness, you think bitterly- to pick up on your unhappiness is only further proof.

"Wanna come dance with us?" She asks, oblivious, and you shake your head, crossing your arms to keep her from grabbing your hand because as bored as you are, being a third wheel would be even worse. You already feel bad for crashing their date by tagging along for the drive here, even though they both insisted on giving you a ride.

"Trust me, that wouldn't be pretty. Dusty says I dance like a school chaperone."

Steve bursts out laughing at that and it makes your heart do a little flip in your chest, even as Nancy fondly shakes her head. "Come on, you're not that bad."

"Oh no, I am." You wrap your arms tighter around yourself as someone opens the front door and lets in a freezing blast of air. "Seriously, I'm good. I think I'm gonna go grab some snacks."

"Try the snickerdoodles! I ate, like ten of them." Steve admits that last part pretty sheepishly and the way Nancy stares up at him with the most adoring look in her eyes makes you feel like you're intruding on something private.

You offer an awkward smile in thanks and with a tiny wave from Nancy, they melt back into the mess of bodies dancing along to Cyndi Lauper, leaving you alone once again.

For no less than the fifth time tonight, you wish Robin was here, not halfway across the state visiting her grandparents. While you might've lost Nancy as your best friend in middle school, you gained another: Robin had also been dropped by Barb and so it was only fitting that the two of you became fast friends, not just acquaintances that sat beside each other in the band's trumpet section.

(You miss Nancy honestly, you really do, but sometimes you think being ditched was one of the best things that's ever happened. You and Robin just click, two peas in a pod, and to you, she feels like the sister you always wish Nancy would've been.)

If Robin was here, she would've already made some quip about Steve and his coiffed hair, or Carol and the permanent expression on her face that made her look like she smelled something bad, or Jason and his attempts to impress Chrissy with his awful dance moves, and it would've had you doubled over in laughter.

She wouldn't let you wallow in the corner by yourself, an outsider looking in, both unwilling and unable to throw caution to the wind and just let go. But she's not here, so wallowing it is.

Being kind to yourself has never been your strong suit.

As if the universe is listening, mocking, a gap in the crowd grows just enough to give you a perfect view of Steve and Nancy swaying in each other's arms and you hate the bitter taste that suddenly floods your mouth.

You have no right to be jealous.

You've never admitted your little crush on Steve to yourself, let alone Nancy: how was she supposed to know? You're not even sure if it's all about him in the first place because sure, you think he's cute -you always have- but you get the same gnawing feeling watching Bradley spin Tina around the room in a playful waltz or Nate stealing a kiss from Georgina under the mistletoe still hanging in the doorway and you can barely tolerate either of those idiots.

It's all so terribly confusing.

Steve twirls Nancy under his arm and then dips her low to the ground, her delighted laughter reaching your ears even over the pounding music and something ugly blooms in your chest. You make your escape before you can do something stupid like cry, weaving your way across the living room and down the hall toward the kitchen with your head down.

…Which is precisely how you end up head butting one of your classmates directly in the chest when you turn the corner.

They give a soft 'oof' of surprise and you're absolutely mortified when you realize it's a boy, not just from the tone of his voice but from the toes of his white Reeboks bumping into your boots.

The same shoes you've heard keeping time in band every day since seventh grade, tapping along to the beat on the riser behind you with the rest of the saxophone players. The same shoes you see at the desk in front of you in third period English, still tapping along to the music that's always running through his mind, accompanied by the furious scribbling of a pencil across paper as he jots down lyrics for a new song.

You wince and keep your head down, hoping he'll just act like nothing happened and go on his merry way and just when you're about to think you're in the clear-

"Ow. You have a hard head, Henderson."

Shit, you think. Of course you had to literally run into the one person you feel like you can't speak two words to without making a complete fool of yourself; something about Eddie just makes you flustered beyond belief and you really wish you knew why 'cause it's, to put it frankly, annoying.

Really fucking annoying.

"Shit." You say out loud, quickly looking up to meet his big brown eyes before glancing away and staring at the zombie adorning the front of his Iron Maiden shirt instead. "Sorry, wasn't paying attention."

"No shit, Sherlock." He teases but there's no trace of malice in his voice, just amusement, even as his ringed hand comes into view and rubs the spot where your forehead crashed into his chest. "You okay?"

Embarrassment burns your face and you cross your arms defensively, firing back with a weak insult you're sure he can see right through 'cause if there's one thing you're good at, it's looking like an idiot all day, every day.

"I'm fine. You're not looking very festive, Munson."

He snorts in laughter and you finally gather the courage to meet his eyes again, only to find him already looking down at you with something behind his gaze that you can't quite figure out.

"I think you're festive enough for the both of us." He gestures to your deep navy sweater dotted with bursts of silver thread that give the illusion of stars. "You look really pretty, by the way."

Your brain short circuits.

Pretty? You're wearing your mom's sweater and Eddie thinks you look pretty?

You're too busy trying to get your mouth to work as the silence stretches on -you'll take a 'huh?' at this point, or maybe even an unintelligible squeak, just say something, you moron- to notice the pink blooming high in his cheeks and the way he speaks in a rush, the words all jumbling together so fast it's hard for your frazzled mind to understand what he's saying.

"-your help, so keep watch, okay?"

Keep watch?

He turns and strides into the kitchen without another word and you end up following a few seconds later, after you've finally recovered enough to get your legs working, at least.

You find him standing by the big bowl of punch, rummaging around the array of bottles littering the island, every so often picking one up to inspect before putting it back in its place with a shake of his head. To your surprise, it's not more alcohol he finally picks up but a two-liter of Sprite and at last you get your mouth to work as you blurt out, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Fixing this shitty ass punch." He's not even phased by your sudden question, save for the quick smile he sends your way as he pours the entire bottle in. "Have you tried it? Jesus, Jan would be disgusted."

You cross your arms and lean your hip against the counter, keeping an eye on the door just like he'd asked. "I have, unfortunately. Who's Jan?"

"Bartender at the Hideout." Eddie throws a reply over his shoulder as he digs around in the fridge, yelling triumphantly when he finds whatever he's looking for. It turns out to be a can of pineapple juice and he dumps that in, too, turning the blue punch a pretty shade of green. "My band plays there on-"

"-Tuesdays, I know." You interrupt without thinking and rush to explain yourself, almost tripping over your words when he turns his curious gaze on you.

"Um, there's this all-girl band Robin loves, Blush. We go see them sometimes and end up staying to watch you guys, too, because you're really good-" You pause at the smile slowly growing wider on his face and shake your head. "-but you already knew that, didn't you?"

He shrugs, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat as he stirs some cherries into the punch, then dishes out two cups and pushes one across the island to you.

"Yeah, I see you there a lot. You're kind of hard to miss when the rest of the audience is just five old drunk dudes."

Your laugh rings in the cavernous kitchen as you push off the counter to grab your drink, tapping it against his when he holds it out toward you.

"Cheers."

You're not sure what to expect when you take that tentative first sip but it's definitely not something sweet and smooth with just the right amount of fizz, the burn of the rum still present but not as overpowering as it was before.

"Okay, so I don't know how you managed to make this shit taste good but you did."

Eddie sweeps into a low bow and you hide a smile behind your cup at his theatrics. "Thank you, thank you. I do accept tips, you know, and all proceeds go directly to Jan so she can buy herself a car."

You smile wider and take another sip. "I'd love to donate but I left my purse at home, I'm afraid."

He clicks his tongue in mock disappointment before leaning forward across the island and waving you closer, dropping his voice to such a low whisper you would've had to move in anyway to even hear him.

"How about I make you a deal, Henderson? Come watch us next Tuesday, slip Jan a twenty, and I'll play a song -any song- just for you."

"Ooh, tempting." You whisper back just as quietly, tapping a finger against your chin even as a weird feeling takes hold in your stomach at his offer. "Any song I want? How about-"

"Hold on, I take that back. Any song but 'September.'"

Your jaw drops. "How'd you know-"

"Because I hear you humming it every day in band, that's how."

"Oh." How the hell does he know you hum that song when half the time you don't even realize you're doing it? You've annoyed Dustin enough to know it's true, after he told you in no uncertain words. "How about I make you a deal? I give Jan thirty dollars and Corroded Coffin covers Earth, Wind & Fire."

He stares at you for a beat longer before slowly breaking out into a smile. "…I'll think about it."

You've always know he has a pretty smile, catching glimpses of it across the cafeteria from where you sat with Robin and the rest of the marching band or in crowded hallways as you rushed to make it to your locker in between classes, but having its full force directed right at you knocks the very breath right out of your lungs.

"it's not a no, so…works for me." You say, propping your chin in one hand and swirling your cup in the other, watching the opaque green liquid spin around like the center of a hurricane. "Why'd you have me guard the door, anyway? I wouldn't call making this sludge drinkable very deviant of you."

"Please," Eddie scoffs, mirroring you exactly. "'Resident metalhead spotted adding mixers to the jungle juice?' I can't trash my reputation like that."

"No, never." You huff a laugh under your breath. "You'd be ruined."

He laughs, too, and you're not sure when it became so warm in here but it's making you want to roll your sweater sleeves up to your elbows.

"See! I knew you'd have my back, Henderson."

The more you think about it, the more you realize you always have. Every time the rumor mill paints him in a bad light, you're there to put it all to rest with nothing more than a perfectly directed scowl because you like Dio, too and wear black nail polish and occasionally play DnD with Dustin and his friends when they need a sub and no one's ever accused you of worshiping Satan for fuck's sake.

If any of them would bother to look deeper than the surface, they'll see what you do, that he's kind and sweet and caring and you know because you've seen him prove it with your own eyes: driving the rest of the Hellfire Club home if they didn't have rides, sticking up for the freshmen when the seniors decide to be cruel, and even now, witnessing him first hand try to raise money for a coworker to buy a car (granted that method might be called borderline manipulation but still, at least it's for a good cause).

"'Course I do." It's both too simple a statement and more than you ever wanted to admit and the way he's staring at you feels different, somehow, different and yet not unwelcome as you stare right back…

(Has he always had that dusting of freckles across his nose?)

…which is why you end up putting your foot in your mouth without even realizing it. "That's what friends are for, right?"

"Right, yeah."

Something flickers behind his brown eyes but it's gone before you can put your finger on it and he's smiling that smile again, pointed canines on full display as he hastily nods and straightens, downing the rest of his drink in one go.

"Do you have the time?" He sheepishly holds up his bare wrist. "Forgot my watch."

"Oh, sure." The sudden change of subject nearly gives you whiplash as you push your sleeve up to check. "Almost eleven fifteen."

"No time to lose, let's go." He grabs a napkin and swipes a few cookies from the counter, tucking them away into the pocket of his leather jacket.

"Go where?"

"You'll see." Eddie nods his head toward the doorway and holds out a hand, silver rings catching the harsh kitchen lights. "C'mon, you trust me?"

"Against my better judgement." You tease and his laugh is downright devilish when you take his hand anyway, letting him lead you out into the hall.

You're not prepared for the warmth of his palm or the rough, calloused touch of his fingers or how your hand looks so small in his as he expertly weaves through your classmates milling about until you reach the bottom of the stairs, pausing just long enough to make sure the coast is clear before dashing up to the second floor.

"Are we even allowed up here?" You whisper and while the little conspiratorial grin on his face doesn't do much to ease your mind, the quick squeeze he gives your hand somehow does.

"Nope!" He leads you down the dark hallway with practiced ease, opening the last door on the left before pulling you inside and softly shutting it behind you both.

"I feel like a delinquent." Your quiet voice echoes in the large room, clearly Tina's from the Hawkins High cheer uniform hanging on the closet door and the over abundance of pink, and he snickers as he drops your hand to grab a blanket draped over the desk chair.

"Live a little, Henderson!" He opens another door, this one leading out onto a moonlit balcony -Jesus, you knew Tina's family was rich but come on- and holds it for you as you step outside. It's just beginning to snow, specks of white drifting down silently and forming a barely there dusting on the railing and you hold out your hand to catch one, watching as the tiny flake instantly disappears from the heat of your palm.

"C'mon, I'll give you a boost." Eddie says, tossing the blanket up onto the section of roof that's just a bit lower than the others.

"Don't tell me you shoot webs from your wrists." You joke, warily eyeing the spot even as you step forward and stand in front of him, grabbing the edge with both hands.

"Nah, I couldn't handle the responsibility of being Spider-Man." He moves closer and hovers his hands over your sides. "Still trust me?"

You nod.

"Can I touch you?" His voice is a low whisper in your ear and when a shiver runs down your spine, you blame it on the sudden gust of wind, nothing more.

You nod again.

His hands are big and oh so warm as he places them on your waist and before you know it, you're lifted onto the roof without so much as a warning, the rough shingles cold against your knees even through the thick denim of your jeans.

Holy shit, he's strong.

You don't even get the chance to offer your hand as he pulls himself up with an almost casual grace and spreads the blanket out, each step he takes so confident and sure, like he's done it time and time again.

"So, you sure know your way around Tina Williamson's roof." You carefully crawl closer and take a seat beside him, close enough that the length of your body is pressed right up against his to ward off the cold.

To be fair, you're also the slightest bit terrified of somehow falling right off the edge and it's like he reads your mind when he shuffles even closer and rests his arm along the curve of your back, not quite touching but near enough that you just know he'll catch you.

"Found out I could climb up here two years ago and-" He explains, pointing off somewhere beyond the back yard in the vague direction of town. "-it's got a killer view of the fireworks."

"It's peaceful." The sounds of the festivities have faded to nothing more than a faint thumping of bass and the occasional burst of laughter floating up from the smokers on the back deck. "So for the last two years, every party Tina's thrown, you've just been hiding up here?"

"More like escaping." Eddie shrugs and stares ahead at the snow-covered trees. "I don't even want to come to these things and I'm only invited 'cause I deal. Once these rich kids get their stuff and I get paid…no one really cares where I go so I just do what I want."

You care.

"All by yourself?"

He nudges you with his shoulder and when you turn to face him, that same look from earlier is behind his eyes, the one from the hallway and the kitchen that you still can't quite figure out. "You're the only person I've ever brought up here."

"Really?"

It's cold, the snow starting to fall a little bit heaver now, and yet you're so, so warm under his gaze as he nods, the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly in the softest smile you've ever seen from him.

It's like hot chocolate on a snowy day or a cozy blanket on a cold night, safe and warm and feeling more than a little like home.

"I'm trusting you with this, Henderson. Don't abuse your power."

You smile and duck your head, pulling your sweater sleeves down further over your cold fingers. "Wouldn't dream of it, Munson."

You'd nearly forgotten all about the cookies hidden in his jacket pocket until he nudges your arm and hands you two, one of his own hanging out of his mouth and you realize they're the snickerdoodles Steve had told you to try.

For the first time, the thought of him doesn't make your stomach twist or your chest hurt. Honestly? You don't really feel anything in particular, other than the fact that he has damn good taste in desserts as you take a bite of your cookie, perfectly baked and covered in just the right amount of cinnamon and sugar.

No wonder he ate ten of them.

You finish eating in silence but you don't feel the need to fill it with anything other than the sound of your breathing; Eddie doesn't either and for who knows how long you sit side by side, watching tiny snowflakes lazily fall from the sky. They dot his dark hair with spots of white and a laugh slips from your mouth before you can stop it.

"What?" He turns your way and you just shake your head as you reach over and brush some flakes from the ends of his curls.

"The snow in your hair, it kinda looks like powdered sugar."

"Oh, so you think I'm sweet?" He waggles his eyebrows and you laugh so hard you have to lean on his shoulder to keep from falling over. The arm he has resting behind you's now fully pressed against your back and it feels like a live wire running along your spine.

"I never said that!"

"But you implied it." Your breath catches as he gently brushes some snow from your hair as well, the warm, calloused pads of his fingers glancing along your face. "And good thing 'cause I think you're sweet, too."

You suddenly get the feeling you've missed something very very important as you scoot away just far enough to turn and face Eddie fully. Down below, your classmates flood out onto the back deck to wait for the fireworks as the new year approaches but you could care less, all of your focus right in front of you on big brown eyes and tiny freckles and a beautifully devastating smile.

"Me?" You speak quietly into the cold air, the question forming swirling white wisps that float above your heads for a fleeting second before disappearing into the night.

You could elaborate but you don't have to because you know he knows exactly what you mean as his hand hovers in the air between you for a long moment before he finally reaches forward and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"I thought I was being obvious." He says, a red hue coloring his cheeks that you know now is definitely not from the cold.

"Why?"

"Why did I think I was being obvious? Henderson, I'm gonna play Earth, Wind & Fire for you!"

"No, why do you…why me?"

It makes him pause, a gentle furrow to his brow, and the way he says your name so softly makes your heart skip a beat.

"Because you're you."

A minute to midnight is a pretty fucking weird time to have an epiphany but you've never had good timing.

"Oh."

It's like something just clicks, the last piece of the puzzle you didn't even know you were trying to solve slotting into place and it all makes such perfect sense you're not sure how you didn't see it before.

"I know you're into Harrington," Eddie says hastily, eyes darting away from yours for just a second before they come right back, wide and honest in the dark. "And I get it if you never want to speak to me again 'cause I just made things super weird but-"

"I'm not into Steve."

You don't know how he makes confusion look so cute but he does, eyebrows knit together and making a little wrinkle in his forehead that's just visible under his bangs. "You're not?"

"I thought I was but…" You trail off as more and more people flood outside, their voices loud and full of excitement as the countdown begins. "Turns out I'm falling for someone else and I finally figured out who."

"Ten, nine, eight."

You scoot closer, sitting on your knees so your face is level with his when you reach out to brush some more snow from his hair, letting your fingers graze over his cheek like the ghost of a kiss. "Sorry it took me so long to catch up."

"Seven, six, five."

"Oh. It's okay." He sputters, a brilliant red flush slowly crawling up his neck like ivy. "I mean, I've liked you for a while now, ever since you joined the band when I was in eighth grade-"

"Four."

"-and you sat in front of me with your trumpet, wearing a Judas Priest shirt and I-"

"Eddie?" You interrupt because as much as you want to hear the rest of his story, you've got a more important thing on your mind.

"Three."

"Yeah?"

"Two."

"Please stop talking."

His jaw snaps shut almost comically and he watches with those wide eyes of his as you slowly cup his face in your hands.

"One."

The clock strikes midnight. The first firework shoots off from downtown and explodes in a brilliant flash of shimmering gold in the inky black sky. And you lean forward and kiss Eddie Munson.

The fireworks overhead are nothing compared to the ones you feel when he responds to your kiss with one of his own, his lips soft and sure under yours as he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer.

He tastes like cinnamon sugar, spicy and sweet, and you can't get enough of him, of his warmth and his fingers sliding into your hair and the noise he makes low in his throat when you part your lips under his.

Kissing him is addicting, intoxicating. It's all you've ever wanted.

He's all you ever wanted.

You were just too blind to see it.

He's all you can see now when you finally part, all swollen lips and flushed cheeks and a smile that would've taken your breath if you had any left to give. The fireworks are long over but you don't even care that you missed the whole show as you lean forward to press your forehead against his.

"So, eighth grade, huh?" You ask and Eddie nods, rolling a strand of your hair between his thumb and pointer finger.

"You were humming 'Highway to Hell' and had holes in your jeans. And when I heard you talking about learning to play DnD for your little brother? That was it for me."

"I was nervous when I first joined band 'cause I had trouble staying on beat. I was so scared they were gonna kick me out." You say and when a snowflake lands on his cheek, you wipe it away with your thumb. "But I heard you tapping your foot behind me and you helped me keep time. Without you, I don't even know if I'd still be playing."

He tucks your hair behind your ear before taking your cold hands in his and bringing them to his mouth to kiss your knuckles, his touch so soft and sweet it makes your head spin.

"Your hands are freezing."

"I don't want to go home yet."

You could stay like this forever with him and when he leans forward to press his lips to yours, you know he feels the same.

"Where to then?"

He's never looked more beautiful to you, his pretty brown eyes blown wide and full of affection and reflecting the shimmer of the stars overhead and a slow smile creeps onto your lips when you weave your fingers between his.

"Surprise me. I'm all yours."

An adorable pink blush sweeps across his nose as he pulls you in for another kiss and you know without a doubt you're speaking the truth.

You know you mean every word.

[alwaysmoncheri]

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒

pairings ❧ steve harrington x reader

summary ❧ (y/n) spends the holidays with the one and only steve harrington

warnings ❧ female!reader, cheesy & sappy steve, shit writing, holiday romcom, stancy

word count ❧ 2.7k

additional notes ❧ this is basically a cheesy holiday romcom ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ

3 Months Later

Before we knew it, the holiday season had come around and it seemed like we were all scrambling to find gifts for each other. Nancy and Jonathan invited me to go Christmas shopping with them, seeing that we'd become very close in the past few months. Our shared trauma had a lot to do with that.

Jonathan had just called me and told me he'd be at my house five minutes ago. I glance at the clock again before returning my gaze out the window.

With a sigh, I trudge over to the phone hanging on the wall, starting to call Nancy's number. That's when I hear a car rolling into my driveway.

I grab my jacket, pulling it tight to my body before opening the front door and walking cheerfully outside. I instantly freeze, not because of the cold, but when I spot the maroon car sitting in my driveway.

Steve sends me a shy wave from inside his car. I hesitantly wave back before walking towards the passenger door and sitting inside.

"Hey," I say as Steve turns the heat up noticing my shivering figure, "I was supposed to be going shopping with Jonathan and Nancy."

"Uh, yeah," Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck, "Nance called and said something came up and asked if I could step in."

Also in the past few months, Nancy and Steve got back together. He really did love that girl.

"Oh well," I say buckling my seatbelt with a bright smile, "I guess we're doing this together then, Harrington."

"Yeah, I guess so, Henderson."

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

Steve walks behind me with a smile as I skip around the town while it snows. I stop at every window of every shop checking to see if anything catches my eye to give to one of my friends.

Steve seems to be struggling with what to get Nancy so I have to help him out a bit.

"How about that?" I tell Steve pointing at the pretty bracelet laying in the window of the local jewelry shop.

After a few moments, Steve slowly comes up to stand beside me, his warm presence filling the air as he glances at the bracelet on display. I continue to gaze in the window, my eyes locking on a silver necklace with a ring for a pendant. My gaze lingers there for a moment before I turn my attention back to Steve, who has been watching me this whole time with those eyes.

"Yeah, that's perfect." Steve says, breaking the silence, by referring to the bracelet I'd pointed out.

"Okay, great," I reply walking towards the door to the shop, "Lets go get it."

"Wait," Steve says, grabbing my arm before I can open the door, "I'll get it. You go ahead to the next place, I'll meet you there." He says quickly and I don't question it. I just nod and start my walk to the next store.

As I walk down the sidewalk, my feet crunching into the snow, I think about what I could get for Steve. I glance at the bags in my hands, feeling a pang of guilt and embarrassment as I realize I've gotten everyone something, except for him. He's never been the hardest to shop for, but the pressure of getting Steve the perfect gift is starting to get to me. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to let some creativity in, but so far, nothing comes to mind.

Suddenly, I hear quick footsteps coming from behind me. As I open my eyes I'm met with Steve who slows his stride before stopping by my side with a couple more small bags in hand.

Steve seems to notice something is up as he tilts his head to one side with a confused look, "You okay?" He asks quietly.

"Yeah, no, I'm good." I say when we begin to walk through the freshly powered snow. "I'm just thinking."

"About me, I hope?" Steve replies with a smug smile on his face.

"It's always about you, Harrington."

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

The next day was Christmas Eve. Today I would be going over to the Wheeler's house to pick up Dustin from the boys' D&D campaign and hand out my gifts. And I still don't have anything for Steve.

I'm starting to freak out a little bit.

I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, my thoughts racing with each breath I take. As the words repeat over and over in my head, I can't help but think of Steve.

Steve. Steve. Steve. What would Steve like?

I sit up in bed, as the exhaustion builds inside of me. Wanting to take a break from the constant thoughts of Steve, I decide to leave the house in search of some fresh air. I grab my jacket and head towards downtown, finding a quiet bench, wiping the fresh snow off before sitting down.

As I watch the people and couples stroll by, I take a deep breath, feeling a sense of peace and relief.

Then, I hear soft footsteps crunching through the snow, approaching me. I look up to see an old lady, probably in he 80's, sitting down next to me, her soft and gentle eyes gazing at me with warmth and kindness. She smiles, and I respond with one of my own. The two of us share a peaceful moment, the snow falling slowly around us and sparkling in the light.

"Hey," I turn slowly towards the lady, "Could you maybe help me with something?"

"What can I help you with, honey?" The lady replies kindly.

"Um, so I have this friend, and I haven't found a gift for him yet." I let out a small sigh before continuing, "I just don't know what to do because I want it to be perfect." I finish, glancing back at the lady who just smiles.

"This friend must be very special, huh?" She asks with a certain look hiding behind those soft eyes.

"Yeah." I respond, almost dreamily, "He is."

"If you mean as much to him as he does to you, I don't think it would matter what you get him," The lady says, that soft smile never leaving her face, "As long as it's from the heart." She finishes, holding her hand up to her chest, where her heart is.

I finally know what I want to give to Steve thanks to a sudden inspiration courtesy of a random old lady's brilliant mind. I quickly thank her before rushing home so I can get the gift done before I have to head over to the Wheeler's.

Frantically, I rummage through my room, searching for the old camera Steve and I used to use together. I find it in an unexpected spot, under my bed, before heading back into town to a local shop where I can get the photos developed. I wait impatiently while the pictures dry. When they're finally done, I grab them stuffing them into my bag before going home. I grin as I shut my bedroom door behind me, knowing they'll make the perfect gift for Steve.

I slip the pictures into a small envelope before grabbing a sheet of paper to write a letter to Steve. With a clear and steady hand, I start to write, my thoughts and emotions flowing as I compose the perfect message for the one who has always meant the world to me.

As I write, a flood of memories come rushing into my mind.

"Is it a little strange? Sure, but it's also romantic. When I heard it for the first time, it reminded me of you."

I smile as I remember that night we'd spent on his bedroom floor. I remember his warm smile, the gentle touches, the mix-tape we'd never finished.

"I don't really know who you are anymore Steve."

"Then let me show you,"

I pause in my writing to dwell on the night Steve snuck into my room, all those months ago. That was the night our friendship was truly reborn in a moment of secrecy and trust.

"What the hell did you do?"

"I didn't do anything, freak."

A single tear slips out, fueled by the bitter memory of what Steve called me months ago. I let my anger and frustration spill into the paper, letting which lets the rest of my emotions loose.

"Whoa, (Y/n), what are you doing with that?"

"Protecting your sorry ass."

I let out a light chuckle of amusement as my rage from earlier dissolves into a warm flood of happy memories.

I remember the day we made our promise, when Steve and I were just kids. We sat with our legs dangling in the pool, lightly swinging our feet through the water. The water glimmered in the sunlight, the sound of the wind rustling through the trees as we watched our reflections in the ripples of the water. I remember the sense of calm unity that we felt in that moment, our friendship forged in the waters of that pool, our words spoken with so much hope and faith in our hearts.

"We won't ever stop being friends, right?”

"We're in this together, Steve Harrington."

"Always."

With a small smile on my face, I carefully slip the letter into the envelope alongside our childhood pictures. I then gently place the envelope in my backpack, where it lies with the rest of the presents I'll be giving out later today.

Then I realize I've made a love letter in disguise.

Shit.

Oh well.

I hear a couple knocks on the front door and promptly open it, finding Jonathan standing on the other side with a warm smile. As he gestures towards the driveway, I nod and head out the door, putting my backpack on and grabbing my jacket. We then drive to the Wheeler's house to pick up our brothers from their campaign. I'm filled with excitement and anticipation as we pull up, eager to see my friends reactions to the gifts I picked out for them.

As we pull up to the house, I notice Steve's maroon car sitting in the driveway, the sight causing my smile to falter ever so slightly. The thoughts of him and Nancy getting back together run through my mind. But I remind myself that Steve and Nancy are my friends, and I'm going to support their decision, no matter how much it hurts.

Jonathan and I get out of the car and walk up to the door where a very cheerful Mrs. Wheeler greets us, with a tray of cookies in hand.

"Merry Christmas, kids," She greets with a warm smile, "Cookie?" She offers pushing out the tray towards us.

"Ooh, thanks, Mrs. Wheeler!" I exclaim happily, grabbing a cookie before walking alongside Jonathan into the house.

"Nancy is upstairs with Steve and the boys are in the basement." Mrs. Wheeler comments before making her way back to the kitchen with the rest of the cookies.

"Perfect," I say before walking down the stairs to the basement.

"Jeez, what's that smell?" Jonathan says as I bring my hand up to my nose to plug it, "Have you guys been playing games all day, or just farting?" Jonathan asks, making me let out a snort.

"Oh, that's just Dustin." Lucas giggles, "He farted. Dustin farted." Lucas sings while making farting noises.

"Okay." Dustin replies annoyed.

"Dustin farted." Lucas continues to sing.

"Very mature, Lucas." My brother comments and I let out another chuckle.

"Will." Jonathan says, grabbing his brother's attention, who stand up with a smile, "Come on."

"Shut up." Dustin repeats.

"Dustin farted!" Lucas sings, standing from his seat.

"Bye guys." Will says with a little wave before following his brother up the stairs.

"Bye Will." The three boys chorus at the same time.

"Dust, we gotta go too," I say with a smile as the boys say goodbye to their friend, "But first, presents!" I sing, opening my backpack.

As the boys sift through my bag and pull out their gifts with excitement, I watch them with a smile on my face. They thank me for the thoughtful presents with wide grins, giving me affectionate hugs. I wave goodbye to the boys before, Dustin and I rush up the stairs. Where Mrs. Wheeler is waiting.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Wheeler." Dustin and I say at the same time and I send her a soft smile.

"Merry Christmas, guys." She returns my smile, "Say hi to your mom for me."

"We will." I reply before heading towards the door. I usher Dustin out, telling him that I'll be right there.

Before I can make my way up the stairs to Nancy's room, her and Steve come rushing down the stair. In a flurry of holiday cheer and joy, the two of them make their way towards me, their faces filled with excitement with presents in hand.

"We thought we heard your voice." Nancy says with a sweet smile, handing me a present, "Merry Christmas, (Y/n)."

"Thank you, Nancy." I say sincerely before she nods, walking towards her mom whose still in the kitchen.

I place the tiny gift box into my backpack grabbing the envelope for Steve before facing the nervous looking boy in front of me.

"I—"

"Here." I say, shoving the letter into his hand.

"Oh, thanks." Steve replies, starting to open the letter.

"Wait!" I say frantically grabbing his hands, preventing him from opening it right now.

"Later?" Steve asks, reading my mind.

"Yeah." I let out a relieved sigh as Steve puts the letter into his front pocket.

I stare into Steve's eyes for a moment, my heart fluttering with every beat. Then he reaches into his back pocket and suddenly reveals a small jewelry box, the sight causing my breath to catch in my throat.

"Uh, I got you something." Steve says, fidgeting with the box in his hand, before reaching out to grab my hand, placing the box into my palm gently, "You can open it now, if you want."

I slowly and carefully open the box, my anticipation growing with every inch it opens. When the lid finally lifts, however, I can't help but gasp as I catch glimpse of the necklace from yesterday, the one with the ring. I stare at the necklace in my hand, eyebrows furrowed as I try to make sense of this gift.

My thoughts run wild as I look up at the boy whose staring at me with excitement and slight worry.

"Read it." Steve says softly, "The ring."

I grab the ring noticing the engraved message on the inside.

Always

My eyes start to tear up when I glance up at Steve.

"Whoa, you don't like it?" Steve questions with a concerned look.

"No, no, I love it, Steve." I laugh lightly at his worry.

"Oh, good." He replies rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Can I?" Steve asks, reaching his hands out towards the box.

With blush spreading across my cheeks, I nod as Steve steps closer, his warm hands taking the necklace. He gently moves my hair to the side and quickly fastens the necklace around my neck with a soft click. As he shifts my hair back into place, I turn back around, our faces inches apart.

"Thank you, Steve." I say softly, glancing at his lips, "I really love it."

"Yeah, I mean, I saw you looking at it and I—"

I cut him off with a quick hug, a warm feeling pooling in my chest as I feel his arms wrap around me. We stand there by the front door of the Wheeler's house, our bodies pressed together, the moment charged with emotion. I lean in and give his cheek a quick peck before finally parting ways. I turn towards the door, my hand resting on the knob.

"Bye, Steve." I say, sending him a small wave before opening the door.

"Bye." Steve replies dazed, but still gives me a two-finger wave.

I smile because something changed, and I'm not sure that's a bad thing anymore.

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alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

[morganpureheart]

I Want To Write This But I Suck

So I had an idea after reading so many Steve x reader fics. What if these other fics were different dimensions that the Reader could see and yeah a lot of them are good but they focus on the bad ones and become paranoid thinking "Oh god how long before it happens to me to" basically in 70% of the angst fics Steve leaves Reader for Nancy, so Reader is fearing this but in reality Steve is crazy about Reader but seeing all these other Dimensions ultimately traumatizes Reader. The Stancy Dimensions makes them feel like Steve will replace them at any moment, The badly written Dimensions (You all know which ones) where Reader forgives Steve almost instantly for doing something horrible makes them feel like a safety option and the Henderson sibling Dimensions make Reader feel like they exist simply to be Dustin's older sibling, In the end Reader focuses on these Dimensions and ignores the good ones, Ultimately making Reader have a certain mindset, one where he has to be perfect and be the best at everything because if he isn't that means he'll be replaced, It's a simple illusion he creates and if anything or anyone were to shatter that illusion like Steve's King Steve personality then they would unleash the monster known as Yandere Reader who would do anything and manipulate anyone to make sure his horrible thoughts would stop. But yeah this was my idea well actually just the beginning of it I don't know if I could write it though seeing as how I'm not that good, I'm actually pretty bad but honestly I'd love to try

[dissectiontime]

Whatever you do don’t go after the Stranger Things cast. They had no say in how the season was gonna end. It is just their jobs to act what the Duffer brothers wrote in their scripts.

[coffeecatsandcandles-library]

𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬)

Summary: Hawkins, Indiana is hell on earth... until a dreamy new boy from California moves to town.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Henderson!reader

A/N: This is my series from my main blog, @coffeecatsandcandles

If you like this series, please consider donating to my ko-fi!

​

Series Warnings: sexual assault, non-con elements in beginning. Use of language, blood, gore, violence, ptsd, anxiety, abuse (physical). 18+ chapters labeled.

Reader details:

dustin henderson’s older sister, same age as nancy, jonathan, and billy (so about 3-4 years older than dustin)

this means that the reader can be white or more white presenting, though i tried to write it to be suitable for any race and not mention any biological similarities between the reader and dustin. if i missed any, let me know!

hair length: the reader’s hair is long in the beginning, and it gets progressively shorter throughout the series. starts down to the middle of her back, ends chin length. normally i don’t mention hair length in my work, but i felt this was symbolic to the reader’s growth!

best friends with nancy and barb prior to barb’s disappearance.

there are two smutty chapters that are 18+. both characters involved are 18.

* - 18+ chapter

Chapter I- Person of Interest 

Chapter II- Dig Deeper

Chapter III- Halloween

Chapter IV- Complicated

Chapter V- Judgement Day

Chapter VI- Winter

Chapter VII- The Return*

Chapter VIII- The Mind Flayer*

Chapter IX- The Battle

Chapter X- Epilogue

other:

Billy’s Mixtape

Pinterest Board

[coffeecatsandcandles]

Can you do a Steve X reader where y/n’s parents work for the Russian government and y/n can speak but is not fluent in English she saves Steve and Robin and ends up falling for Steve?

𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫

➵ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You rescue Steve from Russian guards and you start falling for him, despite not being able to understand him.

➵ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Steve Harrington x Russian!reader

➵ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2k

➵ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Mention of kidnapping, blood, vomiting, language barrier, language (in English), embarrassment, drugged!Steve and Robin, I tried my best with the translations! Mostly fluff.

დ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

Translations:

С тобой все в порядке? (pronounced like “S toboy vse v poryadke?”)– Are you alright?

Спасибо (pronounced like “spasibo”)– Thank you

Cкучный (pronounced like “skuchnyy”)- Boring

Красивая (pronounced like “krasivaya”)– Beautiful

It was like Bring Your Daughter To Work Day, except without the fun benefits and activities a normal boss at a normal company would provide. Just as you were finished with your school year, your father had been hired by the Russian government for a top-secret project, and before you could even say goodbye, you were in a completely new country on the other side of the world. You weren’t even entirely sure what your father did for a living, it was that confidential, but you knew one thing: you hated him for this.

This new project meant traveling to America, staying in hiding, living under a fake name, and absolutely no associating yourself with your father unless absolutely necessary. You always seemed to be talking in code, or not talking at all. You had been meaning to start learning English, and you picked up a few phrases here and there, but the second someone said something too quickly or a single word you didn’t understand, you backed out and got flustered, drawing more attention to yourself than necessary.

America did have its perks, though. You spent your days at the mall, which was a front for where your father was working. You liked watching the parents swing their children around as they walked, the teenagers gossiping at the food court or shopping for new clothes. You took note of how they wore their hair and the types of clothes they liked. It would help you fit in better.

But most of all, you liked watching the boy at the ice cream shop work. He’d shamelessly flirt with every girl his age who came in, causing the other employee to laugh at him. He was tall and lanky, with flowing brown hair nearly to his shoulders. His uniform, styled like a sailor to fit the shop’s theme, made him look ridiculous, but there was a part of you that absolutely loved the way it showed off his legs. Day after day, you’d build up the courage to go into the shop and talk to him.

The day you finally decided to do it was the most nervous you’d ever felt in your life. You repeated the phrase over and over again in your head, “One vanilla cone, please.” When you were alone, you practiced your American accent, hoping you wouldn’t give yourself away. You’d triple-checked that you had the right amount of money for the transaction.

He was dreamy, like a boy you’d see in a magazine. A kind of handsome you didn’t even think existed.

“Welcome to Scoops Ahoy, what can I get for you?” he said, a little too quickly, but you understood him.

“One vanilla cone, please.” You said, and watched as he didn’t even think twice about it. He just put a single scoop of vanilla ice cream into a cone and handed it to you.

You took out your money and started to hand it to him, but he said something and stopped you. Your heart stopped. He caught you, and you were in big trouble.

He could sense the fear in your eyes, “Hey, it’s okay.” He said, “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t have to pay. It’s on me.”

He was talking too quickly for you to understand. You hurriedly set the money on the counter and speed-walked away, the ice cream in your hand slowly melting. You looked back only once, seeing the other employee, a girl about your age with light brown hair and freckles, write a single tally on a white board with words written on it that you couldn’t make out as she laughed.

Embarrassed, you hid in the bathroom for close to half an hour, crying silent tears and wishing you were home. You hated it here. You hated that you couldn’t speak the language. You hated that you had no friends. You just wanted to be anywhere but here.

It had been two weeks since that horrible day, and you had spent this particular day away from everyone, underground with other people from your country, making time pass by writing nonsense in your journal. Some words in Russian, others in English. To anyone who spoke both languages, it just looked like gibberish.

“Morons! Hey morons!” you heard two people yell from another room. You thought you were imagining it at first, but as they continued to laugh, you knew it was real.

You followed their voices, always checking behind you to make sure no one was following. You traveled down the long, empty hallway before you finally heard a crash and a few groans of pain and laughs- sounding exactly like the people you heard before- coming from the other side of a door. You opened it, and were greeted by the sight of the two Scoops Ahoy employees on the ground, tied to a chair.

You gasped, immediately coming to their aid, untying them and helping them up. The cute boy looked at you, his face nearly beaten to a pulp. “You…” he said, recognizing you from your awkward encounter.

“С тобой все в порядке?” you asked him, then immediately covering your mouth to prevent you from saying anything else. You had just blown your cover. You were no longer an unassuming girl who hung out at the mall. You were the enemy. You were a liar.

“What?” He said, panicked. You grabbed his and the girl’s hands, running and taking them somewhere else. They hurt him. You had to make sure he was safe.

You took them to the elevator, inputting the code your father had given you to safely make it back up to the mall, where it was completely deserted. You had forgotten it was nearly midnight, and the mall had been closed for hours.

The relief was clear in their voices as they spoke to each other, but they seemed to have forgotten you were there. Giving them space, you sat on a bench a few feet away, not knowing what to do or say. You hadn’t gotten around to having a conversation in English with anyone besides the one at Scoops Ahoy two weeks ago, and you figured you’d save yourself the embarrassment of trying again.

The boy approached you, putting his hands on his hips, “Thank you for what you did. Seriously, you’re kind of like a criminal now-“ he stopped his rambling the second he saw the confusion on your face. He was talking too quickly for you to understand and rambling too much, you lost him a few words in. It occurred to him that you didn’t speak much English, and despite being free from the torture of the Russian guards, he still felt terrible. “Um,” he sat next to you, trying to formulate what he was going to say to where you could understand him and respond, “Thank you.”

You nodded, showing him you understood. “You’re welcome.” You said cautiously. If you remembered correctly, those were the words Americans responded with after being thanked.

He nodded, and you knew your response was appropriate and correct. “Can you tell me how to say, ‘thank you’?”

You nodded and smiled. He smiled back, both of you warming up to each other. “Спасибо.” You said.

“Спасибо.” He repeated, extending his hand, “My name is Steve.”

Steve. It was so American. You liked it.

“Steve!” the girl scolded, still unsure of your intentions.

“Come on, she’s harmless.” Steve said, “If she was gonna kill us, she would’ve done it by now.”

You opened your mouth, about to say something in broken English, but Steve’s behavior abruptly shifted. He went from kind to dazed, playful to confused. Then you remembered the drugs in his system. He had a lost look in his eyes, and you could tell it was affecting the girl too. You knew how the drugs worked, you’d seen how it affected people. It wasn’t going to kill them, but it would make them vomit fairly soon.

“Come,” you said, getting up and guiding Steve and the girl to the restroom, putting them each in a stall as the drugs ran their course. Soon enough, you heard both of them vomiting, which you knew was a sign that the drugs had worn off.

You gave them a minute to collect themselves, and it was the girl who emerged from the stall first. “How did you know that would happen?” she said.

You could understand what she was asking, you just weren’t sure how to respond. “My father,” you started, your foreign accent on display, “He is a guard. I have seen it before.”

She nodded, grabbing your hand, “Thank you,” she said, “I’m Robin.”

Steve emerged from his stall. “We still need to find Dustin and Erica. They could be anywhere.”

“Dustin said he’d make a hideout spot at the GAP. We should check there first.” Robin responded.

It was happening again. Too many words, not enough enunciation. You could barely understand, and had it not been for the large glowing “GAP” clothing store sign you remembered seeing on the other side of the mall, you would’ve thought they were talking about a physical gap between the stores or in the wall.

Robin exited the restroom in a hurry, leaving you and Steve to walk slowly together behind her.

“How long have you been in America?” Steve asked, making sure to talk at a pace that was slow enough for you to catch every word he was saying, but too slow, which would’ve made you feel stupid.

“Two months.” you said. You wanted to say more. You wanted to say so much more, if only you knew how to say it. “And you?”

Steve chuckled to himself, “My entire life. Indiana is a shithole.”

You could tell by the tone of his voice that “shithole” wasn’t a good thing. You were taken back by his opinions of his home. Sure, it was overwhelming, but there were so many things about it that you loved. “What is a ‘shithole?’” you asked innocently.

Steve laughed again. “A place that is dull. Bad people, bad weather. No fun.” He looked to you to see if you understood.

“Cкучный. Boring.” You said.

“Yeah, boring.”

“Like Russia?”

Steve smiled, “Sure, yeah,” he said. You found yourself lost in his eyes. He was the first person to show you kindness since moving here. You liked him a lot, but right now, you were just happy to have a friend.

“So,” Steve started, “what would you say if I asked you on a date? Would you be able to do that? Maybe we could see a movie? That Travolta one might still be playing.” He lost you again. He tried miming a little dance to hopefully get you to recognize the movie he was referencing. “Dance?”

You shook your head and looked at the floor as you walked with him, slightly embarrassed.

“Hey, no, it’s okay,” he said stopping and turning to face you, sensing your embarrassment and trying to think quickly, “uh... you and me. Date?” he tried again.

“The fourth of July.”

“No, Jesus,” Steve said, slightly frustrated with himself. He exasperatedly ran his fingers through his hair. He didn’t know what he could say or do to get you to understand, so he did what felt right. He leaned in and kissed your cheek, catching you completely by surprise. If he hadn’t just thrown up or had blood all over his face, you would’ve let him kiss your lips.

“Ohhh,” you said and nodded, understanding what he was asking, “romantic. Yes. We can.”

“Yeah, yeah, romantic.” He nodded, “I better start learning some Russian then, yeah?”

You smiled, “I will learn more English. We will learn together.”

“How do you say, ‘beautiful?’” He asked. Sensing your hesitation, he continued, “Pretty? Attractive?”

You smiled, “Красивая.”

“Well,” Steve started, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear, “You are красивая.”

For the first time since moving to America, you felt complete, genuine happiness. No, it was more than happiness. It was peace. Somebody making an effort to understand you. Somebody wanting to be near you. It made your heart leap.

Maybe this new country wasn’t so bad after all. Steve could be the silver lining, the one thing that was worth all the hardships. It would take a while to get there, and it would be a long, stressful process, but if you knew one thing, it was that you could handle it if you had him.

[cyn9]

thats right. im coming out as a jonathan stan, fangirl, wife, side piece, and a jancy shipper.

never bring stancy up, i hate that ship.

not mine!! found on twt

[strangerthings-writer]

MASTERLIST

Characters/ships marked with '*' Do NOT contain NSFW

Characters (x readers)

Mike Wheeler*

more to add soon...

Dustin Henderson*

more to add soon...

Lucas Sinclair*

more to add soon...

Max Mayfield*

more to add soon...

Steve Harrington

more to add soon...

Nancy Wheeler

more to add soon...

Jonathan Beyers

more to add soon...

Billy Hargrove

more to add soon...

Eddie Munson

more to add soon...

Chrissy Cunningham

more to add soon...

Robin Buckley

more to add soon...

Gareth*

more to add soon...

Argyle

more to add soon...

Ships

Stancy (Steve x Nancy)

more to add soon...

Stommy (Steve x Tommy)

more to add soon...

Jancy (Jonathan x Nancy)

more to add soon...

Ronance (Nancy x Robin)

more to add soon...

Buckingham (Robin x Chrissy)

Curiosity (NSFW)

more to add soon...

Jargyle (Jonathan x Argyle)

more to add soon...

Steddie (Steve x Eddie)

Save A Horse, Ride A Freak (NSFW)

more to add soon...

Harringrove (Steve x Billy)

more to add soon...

Mungrove (Eddie x Billy)

more to add soon...

Hellcheer (Eddie x Chrissy)

more to add soon...

Calicheer (Chrissy x Billy)

more to add soon...

Lumax (Lucas x Max)*

more to add soon...

Byler (Will x Mike)*

more to add soon...

Henclair (Dustin x Lucas)*

more to add soon...

[hot-girl-nancy]

Hi Friends!

My name is Tayler and I created this new blog to write some Stranger Things (mainly Nancy) inspired fics! I am obsessed with this show, and in love with Nancy Wheeler! If you have any suggestions for something you would like to see, or just wanna chat about the show/characters with me, please do!! I can't wait to start posting my own content here for you all! Let's be mutuals! <3

[imaginingmarvelandeverything]

English Assignment

Request: Can you do a imagine where the reader is a huge nerd and she’s Billy's partner on a English project and well the both of them are at his place working she goes to his out to his car to grab a book she left in the backseat, passing his drunk dad on his way out of the house, and comes back to his room to see him crying and she knows because she’s been there (abused) and its just fluff of her comforting him and he wraps his arms around her frame holding on desperately and into cries her chest

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Warnings: Abuse, swearing, Billy’s asshole dad

Word Count: 1291

A/N: If anyone ever needs to talk please feel free to message me about anything. Thank you for the request. I have quite a few lined up to write over the next few days. Requests are open.

Prompt List

Masterlist

English Literature was possibly Y/N’s favourite subject. She loved to read and write and was enthralled by the words which flowed on the page. Currently they were study Robert Louis Stevenson’s: The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. While it wasn’t one of her favourite books, Y/N loved the writing style and the narrative. Most of the class would disagree with her and would often call it boring or stupid. The only part of English that Y/N hated were the paired assignments. Teachers had a habit of pairing high achieving students with the kids who needed their grade to be pulled up somehow. While most of these kids were actually far from being dumb, they just lacked the motivation.

“Y/N L/N, you will be paired with Billy Hargrove.” The teacher read out and Y/N sighed.

She had never actually spoken to the newish boy but had heard all the gossip about him around school. A few girls at the back let out annoyed sighs as the teacher finished reading from the list and people began to get up to leave. Y/N took her time packing away; she was in no hurry to get to lunch.

“Hey.” Y/N looked up to find the source of the voice was her new English partner.

“Hey.” She replied as she finished packing away her books.

“I was wondering when you wanted to work on the project?” Billy asked with a small smile as he followed her out of the classroom. His voice was softer than the times she had heard him talking.

“Whenever is fine for you.” Y/N said with a small smile lifting the corners of her lips.

“You free tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, meet me outside after school and we can go to my place.” He smiled at her before walking off to meet his friends.

When the bell signalled the end of the day Y/N began to get really nervous. She packed up her biology books as quickly as she could and then made her way outside. Billy was already leaning up against the side of his Camaro with a cigarette between his lips. He dropped it, crushed it under the heel of his shoe and smiled as he saw her.

“Hey.” Y/N said as she walked over to him.

“Hey.” He smiled wider as he opened the door for her. She climbed in and he shut it for her. That was when Y/N noticed the younger redhead sat in the back.

“You must be Billy’s sister, I’m Y/N.”

“Step-sister. I’m Max.” The girl smiled. Billy climbed into the car and set off. “So, are you two...?” Max trailed off.

“Working on an English assignment.” Billy quickly shot back as Y/N started blushing. He shot a look over at her and smiled slightly as he put the radio on.

The rest of the drive was silent and they quickly reached the house. Y/N climbed out of the car and held the seat down for Max to climb out. The girl thanked her before quickly running inside the house. Y/N grabbed her backpack. She followed Billy up to the house and thanked him as he held the door open.

He showed her to his room. “You want anything to eat or drink?”

“Water please.” She smiled.

He left to get it and she surveyed his room. It was messy but not as much as she would have expected. There was a full ash tray on one of his sides and cologne and hair products on another. She perched herself on the edge of the bed before pulling out the assignment and her copy of Jekyll and Hyde.

“Here you go, sweetheart.” Billy said handing her the water as he came back into the room. The front door opened and then slammed shut and Y/N looked at him questionably. “It’s just my dad.”

They quickly set off working and Y/N was surprised with how much Billy actually contributed. They were making good progress but also talking about themselves in between. It actually turned out that the pair had quite a lot in common. Mainly their movie and music taste but they were becoming quick friends.

“Shit.” Y/N muttered looking through her bag.

“What?” Billy asked looking up at her from his position laying on the bed.

“I think my folder might have fallen out in your car.” Y/N explained.

“Here.” Billy smiled and threw her his keys. “Go look, I’ll finish this bit.”

She smiled back at him before quickly leaving to go to the car. She didn’t notice Billy’s dad sat in the living room as she walked past. The man quickly got to his feet and stumbled into his son’s room.

“You bringing your whores here now?” Neil Hargrove asked as his son shot of the bed.

“We’re doing an English assignment, sir.” Billy said.

In a flash Billy was pinned against his shelves; his father’s hands on his denim jackets sides. “You think I’m stupid.”

“Of course not.” Billy said before a fist connected with his cheek.

“Of course not, what?” Neil spat.

“Sir.” Billy muttered.

“That’s better.” Neil said before dropping Billy to the floor. Billy curled into himself.

Y/N passed Neil Hargrove in the hall and muttered a quick greeting that the man didn’t return. She walked into Billy’s room and dropped her folder to the floor as she saw Billy on the floor.

“Billy?” She muttered in shock.

“Shut the door and lock it.” Billy chocked out.

She did as he said before kneeling down in front of him on the floor. “Did... Did your dad...?” She stumbled over her words as she looked at the boy she had been laughing with minutes before, now crumbling on the floor.

Billy merely nodded. Like always the tears were beginning to run down his cheeks. Y/N moved closer to him and reached out her arms. He folded into her and buried his head in her chest; both his arms wrapped around her waist. She slid one arm around his back and threaded the other through his hair. She could feel his tears starting to dampen her shirt. She lost track of just how long they sat on the floor before he pulled away shakily.

“You should tell someone.” Y/N whispered.

“Like who? Who would actually care?” Billy chuckled humorously and brokenly.

“I would.” She murmured and his eyes shot up to meet hers. “You could tell Hopper.”

“I couldn’t.” He muttered before standing up and pulling her up with him. He started grabbing everything they had been using. “Let’s go someplace else.” He wiped a hand over his face as she helped him start to pick up books.

At the beginning of today, Billy Hargrove had been a stranger. Now she was determined to help him out of this living hell.