#steve harringotn fluff

[familyvideostevie]

alright, hear me out. i looked through the prompts list and can we give roommate!steve a little airtime beCAUSE—

trying to not hit anything or each other, when there is a power outage and it’s way too dark

— is SO steve coded. i wanna see this man during a power outage. please and thank you. i love you.

hi baby. here you go. sorry it took so long. it is the first thing i have written in about 6 weeks so apologies for it's roughness. i adore you. thank you for helping me give steve Harrington his triumphant return. | fluff, 1.3k, roommates!au

Summer storms in the Midwest always take you by surprise. The never-ending expanse of blue sky becomes crowded with swirling grey clouds without warning and everything stills, like the very fabric of time is holding its breath. Until the dam bursts and rain pounds on your windows, the roof, the pavement with wild abandon. Deep, rumbling thunder follows bright flashes of lightning.

You find it relaxing. A steady, reliable chaos into which you settle without complaint.

Well, usually. Your roommate, Robin -- a talkative and whip-smart girl who makes you laugh-- enjoys storms just as much as you do. It's one of the only times she settles, so you often read side-by-side in companionable silence. Sometimes, if you're feeling bold, you'll both dance in the rain.

But Robin is on some six-month trip for brilliant people and she's left you with a subletter.

"My best friend Steve," she'd said. "Come on, I talk about him all the time. You basically know him."

It's true. Robin is full of stories and this Steve is in most of them. A funny, brave, well-intentioned guy who is a bit of an idiot and has a great head of hair.

And now he's living in the other bedroom. And he's hot. And he always does his dishes and remembers to put the seat down after you scolded him once for doing otherwise and you have a crush on him.

It's annoying. He's been here for like, three weeks and keeps asking you where the spoons are and you like him.

But Steve? You are learning that Steve does not like summer storms.

In the few you've had since he arrived you've noticed that he paces, or sits in the living room with the television turned up high, or something noisy. You've never asked him about it because honestly, he could be much worse as far as roommates go.

You can hear his radio through the wall and it's making it hard to focus on your book. You should really go to sleep but this chapter is really good and does he have to be so loud? Maybe you should get up and ask him to keep it down --

A flash of lightning makes it seem like daylight in your room for a brief moment and then everything is dark. Everything.

"Fuck," you say. The power must have gone out. A clap of thunder so loud it feels like your building shakes startles you. You hear a shout from the other side of the wall.

It's not as hard as you'd expect to feel your way to your bedroom door in the dark. You manage to do so without injury apart from bumping your hip on your dresser.

But when you open your door you smack into a solid wall of warmth. Your fingers grasp for purchase and find none -- only bare skin.

"Jesus Christ --" Steve says. He manages to prevent you both from falling over and holds you at arm's length in the dark. "What are you doing?" His voice is tight and he squeezes your shoulders once before releasing you.

"Uh," you say. You're certain that he's not wearing a shirt. You can feel that he's not wearing a shirt. "The power went out."

He huffs. "Wow, thank you. I had no idea."

You wish it wasn't dark so you could see his face. Three weeks hasn't been enough time to learn all of his expressions. "Were you sleeping?"

It feels like a dumb question considering how loud his music was.

"Yeah," he says. "Obviously I was sleeping. It's like, 1 am."

"Just go back to sleep. If you can, under the volume of your radio."

You imagine him wincing. "Sorry," he says. "I don't, uh. Sleep well during --"

Lighting illuminates the hall and you see him for one brilliant second, messy hair, bare chest rising and falling, boxers slung low. Boxers with...are those...bananas? Then: darkness, thunder. You sense his flinch.

"That," he says flatly.

A smile creeps its way onto your face and you allow it because he can't see. The fact that this guy, your temporary roommate, your sort-of crush, is afraid of thunderstorms fills your chest with warmth. It's endearing. It's adorable. It makes you like him so much more.

You ease past him and into the dark of the rest of the apartment.

"Woah, woah," Steve says. "Where are you going?" You hear him follow you and immediately run into something. He curses. You keep your hands out to avoid the same fate.

"You okay?" you call back.

"Why do we have so much furniture?" he grumbles. "Fuck, that hurt."

You don't correct him that we actually means you and Robin.

"Watch where you're going," you say lightly.

"Oh, ha, ha."

Careful steps take you closer to your destination. "Go look for candles in the kitchen," you tell him. "They're in the drawer by the trash."

"Uh, okay," Steve says. He bumps into things with quiet curses on his way as you look for the matches that should be in the closet. "Why? You could just go back to bed. I'm fine."

You chew on your lip. He's right. But you want to hang out with him. The dark makes you honest. "The thunder is loud," you say. "I won't be able to sleep. We might as well hang out."

He laughs, the first genuine one all night. "Oh, you want to hang out? In the dark? You know what this sounds like, right?"

Ah, the famous Harrington charm Robin has told you about. It makes your cheeks feel hot and you can't hide a smile. Steve ruins the moment by running into something again.

"Fuck! Jesus --"

"Steve, be careful."

"I can't see anything!"

You sigh and finally find the matches. Box in hand, you carefully make your way to the kitchen, your eyes adjusting just a little and making it easier.

Steve is looking in the wrong drawer. You should just tell him so, but instead you reach for him, fingers circling his wrist and dragging it to the right one. His skin is warm under yours, the back of his hand softer than you'd thought it would be. You open the drawer together and hear the candles roll around inside.

His face is a dark outline but you focus on the dark and think you see his eyes. You wish you could see him.

"Found them," he says. You're much closer than you realized, so close you feel his breath on your cheek. Steve leans in -- or maybe it's you, you have no idea, and your noses brush. He puts a hand on your hip, fingers sliding under the hem of your sleep shirt and burning you like a brand.

Your eyes slide close and you miss the flash but not the boom that follows, sending you both about a foot in the air and away from each other.

"Shit," you gasp. Steve laughs and you join in, giggling in the dark like teenagers.

Maybe this is a one-night thing, the darkness making you both a little lonelier and a little braver. But you've got months more of him and the idea of spending that time being something more than just roommates? It's appealing, to say the least.

You reach for Steve in the dark and he must have been doing the same because your fingers tangle without much effort.

"Come on," you say. "Let's light the candles and sit on the couch. I'm sure the power will come back on eventually."

He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. "Okay," he says, a smile in his voice. "Don't let me run into anything."

You grin at him in the dark and hope that come morning he'll be familiar with it in the light, as well. "Don't worry, Steve," you tell him. "I've got you."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[allthingsfangirl101]

Not The Same Without You – Steve Harrington

Being Steve Harrington's childhood best friend is not easy. You've got Tommy and Carol, Steve's team, and the rest of the school against you. Everyone thinks he's crazy for hanging out with me.

Something you should know about me - I'm your stereotypical bookworm. I never go to school without at least two books in my bag in case I finish the first one. I choose to spend my lunch period and free period in the library reading. I am on a first-name basis with the librarian at our school and at the library down the street from my house.

No one understood why Steve would hang out with someone like me. And if I was being honest, I didn't understand it either.

It made more sense when we got to high school. He stopped talking to me when we started freshman year. I didn't mind. I was starting not to like all the attention our friendship got. I got tired of the sneer comments, the scoffs, and the glares. We had this big talk the weekend before we started freshman year.

~•~

"Y/N?" Steve said, sounding strange. "Can we talk about something? Something that I'm pretty sure is going to make you hate me?"

"Nothing could make me hate you, Steve," I said honestly. "What's up?"

"Well," he said, clearing his throat, "we start high school on Monday."

"That's true," I said when he paused.

"And I'm on the basketball team," he continued slowly. "The team and all the practices and the games are going to take up a lot of my time."

"Steve?" I pushed. "What are you trying to say?"

"Maybe it's better if we don't hang out in high school," he blurted out. My heart jumped into my throat as I stared at him. I could barely see it, but there was a little bit of guilt in his eyes.

"Is that what you want?"

Steve opened and closed his mouth, struggling to answer me. I studied his eyes, trying to see if this was what he really wanted.

"Yes," he said, his voice dropping.

"Okay," I said as I stood up and started slipping on my shoes.

"Okay?" Steve stuttered. "You're really. . . You're okay with this?"

"Not really," I shrugged, not facing him. "But if it's what you want. . ."

I gasped when Steve grabbed my wrist and spun me toward him. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he whispered. "I just. . . I was. . . I thought. . . I'm sorry."

"I understand," I said, my voice dropping. "At least, I can pretend to."

~•~

When my parents found out that I was no longer hanging out with Steve, they tried to hide how relieved they were. My parents have never really liked Steve. They were always worried that his bad habits would rub off on me.

So, for the last three years, I've gone through high school alone - not that I minded. I was fine by myself. I've always been fine with it. Steve was the first person who tried to enter my life and I let him.

Six months into our senior year, my insomnia got really bad. AP exams were only a few weeks away and the stress made my insomnia worse. I slipped on a light jacket and headed downstairs. I walked out to our backyard and started walking along the path that went behind our house to a nearby park.

"You shouldn't be out here by yourself, Y/N," came a familiar voice. "It's dangerous."

"Steve?" I said, my eyes adjusting to the flashlight he had shining on me. "What are you doing here? It's 2 am."

"I knew you'd be up," he tried to say lightheartedly.

"And you walked all the way over here?"

"No," he said with a small laugh. "I drove to your house but saw you sneak out the back. Insomnia keeping you up?"

"Yeah," I said slowly. "It always does. That's nothing new."

"I know," he said. "Is there nothing you can do to help with it?"

"Steve, what are you doing here?" I asked instead of answering him.

"I used to come over like this all the time," he shrugged.

"True," I said, "but that was almost four years ago. We haven't talked since then. Be honest, Steve. What is going on?"

"Come with me."

"What? Steve, you can't be serious. It's two in the morning and. . ."

"Please," he cut me off. His tone made me freeze. "Y/N, I really need. . . I just. . . I need to get out of here and I want you to come with me. Just for a little while. Please, Y/N. Please come with me. I promise to get you home before your parents wake up."

"What's wrong?" I asked, my voice softening as I took a step closer to Steve.

I hadn't noticed that I was rubbing my arms until Steve took off his jacket and draped it over me. I held my breath as he started to pull his hands back. He hesitated for a second, like he was going to grab my hand, but decided against it at the last minute.

"Please, Y/N," he whispered. "I need you to come with me. I just. . . I need you."

One look at his eyes and I knew this was serious.

"Where to, Harrington?"

* * * * *

As we drove to only Steve knew where, he didn't say anything. The radio softly played as we drove through town. I kept glancing at him, wishing he'd say something.

After four years of silence, Steve randomly showing up outside my house at 2 in the morning was weird. Not to mention the fact that he was taking me somewhere and hadn't said anything since we got in the car.

"Steve," I whispered, "can you please tell me where we're going? I'm. . . I'm starting to get a little nervous."

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "I know this is strange but. . . I can't really explain it. I've been struggling lately and I was trying to figure out what to do. The only thing I could think of was you. I needed to see you, Y/N. I know you don't owe me anything but. . ."

"It's okay," I gently cut him off. "I just want to know where we're going."

Steve looked over at me and sent me the Harrington Smile that has all the girls in our school falling head over heels for him.

"Somewhere we haven't been in a long time."

It wasn't for another ten minutes that I realized where we were. When I figured it out, I glanced over at Steve. The butterflies in my stomach went crazy when I saw his smirk.

"I haven't been here since. . ." I couldn't remember the last time I was here.

There is a spot in this mountain called Makeout Point that all the teenagers know about. Steve and I found this spot on the other side of the mountain and it's always been our spot. Steve parked the car and we instantly walked over to the nearby picnic bench. We sat on the bench with our backs to the table.

I glanced over at him and, as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, I saw the weight pushing him down.

"Steve?" I whispered. "Please tell me what's going on."

He opened and closed his mouth, unable to admit it. When nothing came out, he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Y/N," he tried to start. "The thing is. . . I'm not sure why. . . It's hard to explain. . ."

I looked down to see Steve move his hands so they were now on the bench. Before I could talk myself out of it, I reached over and gently put my hand over his.

"Please, try," I said under my breath.

"I miss you," he rushed out. He looked up at me, surprise in his eyes.

"You. . ."

"I miss you, Y/N," he said, sounding more confident. "And I am so sorry. I'm sorry I left you and acted like I didn't know you once we started high school. I shouldn't have made you go through it alone. I should've been with you. I should've walked you to class on your first day and every day after. I should've sat with you in the library every lunch and free period. I should've been a better friend to you, Y/N, and I'm really sorry."

"Steve," I stuttered.

"I hate that I walked away from you," he continued. "I hate that I turned my back on you and never turned back. I wish, more than anything in the world, that I could do something to make it right. Can I? Can I fix what I did, Y/N? Can I fix this? Can I do something to make things go back to what they were before? Tell me how I can make it up to you. I'll do anything, Y/N."

"I don't know," I stuttered, my voice soft. "I mean. . . Senior year is almost over. And then who knows what we're going to do after but. . ."

Steve leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. Neither one of us deepened the kiss, but neither one of us broke it either. When we finally broke the kiss, my head was swimming. Steve was smiling softly at me.

"The past couple of years without you," he whispered, his face inches away from mine, "have been the worst years of my life. Every day, I wake up wishing I hadn't suggested we stop hanging out. Every day, I sit in class and try to figure out what I could say or do to fix what I screwed up. I can't live without you, Y/N. The truth is, I don't want to live without you. Not another day."

As he was talking, Steve scooted closer to me. When he finished, he reached up and gently cupped my cheek in his hand and pulled me closer.

"Not another day," he repeated as he pressed his lips to mine. This kiss was deeper than our first. When we broke this one, Steve leaned his forehead against mine.

"Y/N. . ."

"Steve," I cut him off. "This isn't. . . I just. . . This isn't as easy as you're making it sound."

"I know," he said instantly. "I know it's not going to be easy. But I'm willing to do the work. I mean it, Y/N. I will do anything and everything to make it up to you. Anything you want, anything you ask, I'll do it. I haven't been the same without you, Y/N. I need you in my life. Please don't let me go another day without you."

"I don't want to go another day without you," I whispered.

Steve, overcome with happiness, grabbed my hips and pulled me onto his lap. I gasped as he put his hand on the back of my neck and pressed my lips to his. I moaned as our lips moved messily in sync.

"Say it again," he moaned as he broke the kiss. I leaned back and gently held Steve's face in my hands.

"I don't want to go another day without you, Steve Harrington," I said, watching the lust build in his eyes. "So, please, don't let me go another day without you."

"You never have to go another day without me."

He was about to kiss me again, but I put my hands on his chest, stopping him.

"Steve," I whispered.

"What's wrong, baby?" He said softly.

"You promised to get me back before my parents woke up."

"Right," he chuckled as he reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering. "Let's get you home."

I got off his lap and he instantly grabbed my hand, walking me back to his car. The entire drive back into town, my thoughts on the events of tonight.

We pulled up to my house and instantly looked at each other. Steve leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. I smiled as I moved our lips against his. He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against mine.

"Not another day," he whispered.

"Nope," I giggled. "Not another day."

Steve kissed me again before finally letting me get out of his car. I quietly slipped back into my room without my parents noticing. As I lay in bed and tried to calm the butterflies in my stomach, I had one more thought.

My parents weren't going to be too thrilled about this.

[teddyeyeseddie]

So Now What

Older!Steve X Reader X Older!Eddie (No cheating, No Steddie)

Taglist: Open

""Halloween comes in a hurry, Eddie sending you pictures of the pumpkin you had given Caden, all carved and ready for the night. You were back at school now, fall break coming and going. You had managed to avoid Eddie for the remaining days of break, a hard feat since he was only two blocks away from your parents.  You ignore the text from Eddie, focusing on the piece of literature before you. You’re nose deep in the book when a presence before you pulls you out of your luul.  “Hey um, are you in Professor Allen’s literature class?” you smile up at the man, cocking your head to the side.  “Yeah, her 3000 levels.” the man’s face lights up as he takes a seat across from you.  “I thought I had recognized you, I uh- sit up in the front,” he replies as he pulls out a book.  You finally take time to really look at the man, the way his sweater brings out the color of his eyes, the way his hair lays perfectly atop his head, the stubble adorning his face making his jaw more prominent. He’s not old but he’s definitely not your age.  “I was hoping you could help me with something?” he says."" 

Part One: Wednesday In a Cafe Part Two: 2 AM, who do you love? Part Three: Loving Him Was Red Part Four: Your sweet disposition Part Five: My Wide Eyed Gaze Part Six: Losing Him Was Blue Part Seven: Wednesday In a Cafe Episode 2

(a/n: so excited for this series! first part will be posted shortly!! xx)

[werdlewrites]

masterlist - ao3 - twitter @ djomamma

summary: “Why can’t I remember? What—what’s wrong with me?” Owens becomes defensive of the girl at that moment. Brows knitted together and a hard stare that says he’s displeased. His palms press down into the desk to push himself up to her level, leaning forward to show assertion. “There is nothing wrong with you.” The pacing stops to face him head-on. Her hands held out and she took a step forward in aggression. Feeling her soul become thunderous and fueled by fire. “No,” the girl spits out. “You don’t understand what’s happening t’me. You don’t get it-” “So tell me.” warnings: therapy? can't think of anything else wc: 2,734

December 25th comes faster than Autumn anticipates. Sure, it’s all routine. She turns another year older, and then just days later, there’s another celebration. It’s all a little tiring. More effort is given to the day she took her first breath of air. The day the world was blessed or cursed with her existence. The tree is up, and a few gifts are scattered beneath. It’s a day to cherish the extraordinary small family they have, as she wasn't raised beneath a religious roof. It’s just another day, now. Hardly missed in the tight confinements of the cabin.

Autumn can hear the sound of Hopper rustling about below, getting ready for work, which is exactly what she had hoped for. She had spent the morning in silence, plotting out exactly what she knew she needed to do. Eyes burned from the long stare locked on checkered squares. The pieces had all been collected—all accounted for, lying dormant beneath the chessboard, nestled in their little compartments.

She had forced herself to do it. Drowning out this vision—this memory, whatever it was—until she could withstand the feeling of them in her palms. Fearful of what else they may bring to haunt her thoughts. But nothing more comes, and she slams the lid shut and backs from it like a trap had been set. The girl stares in waiting for something to strike out. Images forced into her mind that she rejects, planting herself against the chilled wood with fingers tracing the intricate patterns of nature. Something to assure herself that she was here, in the present, and not in that sterile place.

Autumn grows impatient from the lack of urgency down below. Hopper takes his time, grumbling and sighing his way through the morning, unwilling for another day at the office. He had warned her it could be a busy day for him; it’s not easy to predict. Some hours are peaceful as families gather together, and other times are full of madness as frantic drivers crash in the stress of the holidays or teens taking advantage and slip a few items into their pockets.

The girl chooses to no longer wait, bagging up the game and dressing for the winter air just beyond the door. Upon hearing her landing on the main level, Hopper emerges from his small room to greet her. His brows are furrowed, lips pulled to a thin line beneath his mustache as he studies her, clearly ready for plans he wasn’t aware of. “Where’re you off to?”

“Therapy,” she grumbles, struggling to pull her boots on at the door.

“Therapy? Today?”

The teen only nods in reply, sending the man into a spiral of panic and confusion. He hadn’t planned for this. They had days scheduled so that he could be with her should she need him. Or should he need to intervene. But she was already at the door, letting the wind kiss and nip at her skin as snow danced across her feet. “Hold your horses for a minute. He wants t’see you? On a holiday?”

“He said it was up t’me.” Lie. There was no session planned, no doctor waiting for her at that lab. But it wouldn’t stop her. And, if Owens wanted to maintain the small amount of trust she had given him, he would answer her call, regardless of the hour or any bullshit holiday tradition.

“I-I can’t go with you,” his admission sounds nearly defeated. His shoulders sagged with a pleading look in his eye, silently begging the girl to change her mind. Control was slipping right through his fingers and out that door, and all she can do is smile.

“Don’t worry, Hop. I think I can handle myself.”

Autumn spends her car ride in a restless and irritable state. The music plays briefly before she’s easily overwhelmed and surrenders to total silence. The traffic is light, yet drivers move too cautiously across the slush, while she aches to race through town and beyond the forbidden gates. But as the people thin out and the trees fill her view, things seem to shift into a blur. Time slips right by her. Before, she had been counting down every second to this very moment.

She doesn’t remember speaking to the man at the gate. He tells her to turn away—that Dr. Owens is one of the lucky ones to be at home for the celebration. Words fly from the girls lips without thought, her face burning hot from anger. Whatever she says leaves the officer in a state of unease, shifting on his heel and maintaining the distance between them. The gates open, and Autumn finds herself seated in that familiar office with the ticking clock her only company.

They had promised to call him, and she refused to take “no” for an answer. So, the teen waits in the seat that was meant for her, just across from his desk. Noting just how empty and clean it had become once their sessions had ended. Would he sweep all of his notes away, keeping them secure somewhere in this room? Did he take her darkness home with him? To study like a newfound beast he had yet to understand. Gawking at the pages in horror and awe.

There’s an itch to go digging through the drawers. To uncover what he truly thinks of her and what his intentions had been from the very beginning. Hopper said he trusted no one but to give the man a chance at saving this drowning girl. But a man does not have to be good or kind to offer out a hand. A man can still pull you out from the depths after pushing you overboard. He can still betray you and force you beneath the surface after giving a sweet smile.

An hour passes—maybe more. The hands on the clock have spun, every tick a lullaby to soothe her nerves just enough to survive the long wait. And then, thunderous steps. They echo down the hall paired with frantic voices. Just barely beneath the chaos, Autumn can hear someone offering to escort the girl from the building by force. His suggestion is shot down, his presence entirely dismissed once Dr. Owens rounds the corner, cheeks flushed and breathless from the hurry.

His smile is unwilling and weak. It trembles, clearly unsettled by the sudden call he received on a quiet day at home. Meant to be enjoying hot meals and the company of his wife, now frantic and hastily dressed with his trousers still wrinkled from the dryer. But he puts a brave face on for her, shutting the door at his back despite the warnings not to.

“Well, Ms. Reid, what a nice surprise.” His hands are clasped together before him, moving through the room with caution yet attempting to appear more confident as her glare threatens to break him on the spot. “I didn’t think I would see you until later this week.”

She remains silent, replaying the scene over and over again in her mind. The pieces glide across the board with little effort by little hands. Then, nothing at all. The invisible force guiding them into place to be taken by someone unseen.

“I’ll admit, I was a little worried when I got the call,” the doctor continues. “Is everything alright?”

The girl chews at her lip, her heart racing until it feels like it could nearly burst from her chest like a parasite. She stands from her seat despite the dizzying sensation, the connection between the pair unbreaking as she shoves the box against his chest. It’s forceful enough that he stumbles back a step, a bewildered look in his eye.

“What is this?” she questions.

With a gaze now cast downward, he studies the box as he casually tilts it back and forth. “It’s a game of chess.”

Autumn can’t help but let a small huff of disbelief pass before she’s moving in a flash. His desk rattles and the surface echos from the pressure she applies, slamming down the blackened peacock standing upon its pedestal. He had flinched from her sudden action, though upon seeing the piece, realization seemed to settle in. No longer confused, but standing strong against the storm she brings. Prepared for whatever she may bring. “Where d’you get this?”

His chest swells with air, steadying himself and wearing a small smile for comfort. Whether for her or himself. “Is there a problem?”

Her eyes are wide, her body nearly vibrating from the anger—the frustration at no one seeming to understand the insanity that ate away at her mind. Maggots to rotten flesh, devouring pieces of her at a time. She was truly alone in this. “Yes! Yes, there’s a big fucking problem!”

She’s pulled away from him, giving him a moment of relief as she paces back and forth a few feet away. Trembling fingers dig at her skull, attempting to soothe the voices screaming out warnings. They tell her to run. Tell her to stay. To show him the horrors in her mind so that he may lie awake at night, the same way she does.

“I-” she attempts to begin with a shaken voice. The pads of her fingers pressed into tired eyes, forcing back the aggravated tears. And when Dr. Owens thinks she’s going to collapse in on herself, a laugh unexpectedly escapes with hands falling from red eyes. “I’m either ready for the pysch-ward, or I am being followed by this.” She gestures out to the wooden bird on his desk. “Why d’you have it?”

Lips part to speak without knowing what to say or where to truly begin. A thousand thoughts all at once swarming in, seeking to spill out across his tongue, yet he swallows them all down. He carries the burden of truth, so she doesn’t have to. But the price of her ignorance is too great, and the stress tears at her insides, leaving her desperate for something. No matter the pain that comes with it.

Dr. Owens ignores her question, moving so that he stands just behind his desk with the board game now sitting before him. He pries open the lid with care, slipping the lone piece back inside its home in total silence while she looks on in frustration.

Hands find purchase on cocked hips, fingers digging deep enough to leave bruises along her flesh. Her tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth, blurting out, “What does ‘rêveur’ mean?”

The girl anticipates a prolonged silence. A resistance as she pulls at the strings to reveal his secrets hidden away behind curtains, but the word “dreamer” falls from his mouth without hesitation or thought. It had only been lying in wait until the opportune moment.

She sees him in that cold, dead place. His blue eyes were a shocking contrast to the gray walls and steel table before her. He wears a look of pride as he sits across from her. Elbows pressed to the surface with fingers locked. He speaks, but nothing comes forward, only a sharpened ringing tone as he sings his praise. She can see the way his lips form the word to address her. A slow-moving picture, just like in the movies, leaves her feeling lost and filled with a familiar hopelessness.

Then she sees him. His eyes hold something warmer, despite their icy appearance. They offer sunlight on a shadowy path she knows must be taken. Taking small steps at a time out of fear, though putting blind faith into something or someone unknown. At least for a time, she believed he was this unknown person. But it’s that same familiarity, without the boiling tension in her gut, that tells her she’s in danger.

“It was a game you used to play. I can’t exactly call it your favorite, but something you played frequently, once upon a time.” His tone is almost regretful. Something filled with shame and sorrow as he provides the clarity she desired, at risk of damning himself along the way.

His words take the shape of a large snake. The creature strikes and keeps her captured in its grip. She’s left frozen and unable to break from the confinement, while its venom seeps through her blood, acid scratching along the walls of her mind, words on an endless loop.

A game she played.

Something he had seen her play more than once.

A watery stare lands on his folded hands. Aged and scarred through time, with a wedding ring shining like a beacon in the dim light. A reminder that he had someone somewhere. A life outside of these walls, while she remained adrift in the unknown void.

She can’t place him. His hands don’t seem to hold any familiarity as she tries to place them in her visions, resting just on the other side of the board. Comparison is lacking, yet she still finds herself asking for the sake of closure. “Was it you?”

With fingers linked, those hands raise to press against thinned lips. Scrubbing along the surface with his focus elsewhere, trying to decide on how to answer. In the end, he shakes his head before meeting her gaze. “No. It wasn’t me.”

“But I-I do know you, don’t I? Somehow?”

A saddened smile is seen as his hands fall back to the desk. Seemingly reluctant to answer. The confession is heavy. Not just for the girl, but for the man as he pries open the once locked chest, holding the truth of her past.“I’m somewhere in there. Along with the other memories you’ve lost.”

Autumn doesn’t feel like she’s entirely there. An empty, floating shell as she nods along to his words without thought, unable to truly process. Her feet pace along the tile; the pressure barely felt beneath each step as she twists and turns. Her fingers wound tight together. They pull and claw at the skin as the familiar pressure of overwhelm creeps in, forcing out every breath until her skin is reddened. “What I’ve lost,” she repeats, though unheard. Her lips move with no sound escaping. She’s forcing herself to swallow his admission.

These hauntings—these visions or memories of being young and tormented under that man’s stare—were seeming more real. And yet, it’s still too far away to take hold of and pull the pieces back together. A part of her screams out to leave it be, while the other suffocates on ignorance, desperate for relief.

“Why can’t I remember? What—what’s wrong with me?”

Owens becomes defensive of the girl at that moment. Brows knitted together and a hard stare that says he’s displeased. His palms press down into the desk to push himself up to her level, leaning forward to show assertion. “There is nothing wrong with you.”

The pacing stops to face him head-on. Her hands held out and she took a step forward in aggression. Feeling her soul become thunderous and fueled by fire. “No,” the girl spits out. “You don’t understand what’s happening t’me. You don’t get it-”

“So tell me.”

The crushing sensation in her chest lessens, and she feels as though she can finally breathe. It leaves her lightheaded in the moment, vision a haze as stars fill her view. Autumn can hear Hopper’s words, begging for her to give the doctor a chance. So, as the world around her settles and her limbs no longer tremble, she discards the bag next to the chair and takes a seat across from him. Her palms run along denim-clad jeans, hesitantly meeting his kind eyes. “And you’ll…help me?”

He nods once he’s taken his place, hands folded up just like before and wearing a small smile. “Yes, I’ll help you. But, you should know, it may get worse before it gets any better.”

It’s a sickening thought. Autumn has already been pushed to the edge of madness and is now asked to step over the edge before a hopeful rescue comes for her. Just before the abyss of an endless ocean swallows her. “Will you tell me about him?”

It takes him a moment before responding. Discussing Brenner posed a risk of igniting memories the girl may not be prepared for. Reliving her trauma as the world unfolded before her was one thing. But pulling old memories from that box was another. But regardless of it all, he nods. “I’ll tell you what I can.”

[bitterspoons]

Chapter One: Steve Harrington Series

A Demogorgon ate my pet cat.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Oc

Chapter Summary: In which we meet Lacy Henderson and where Lacy Henderson returns home.

Series Warnings: Probably gore, angst, fluff, slight grooming and domestic abuse.

▪────  ⚔  ────▪

“Where the hell have you been, Dustin?” 

Lacy, probably the second most sought after girl other than Nancy Wheeler (who was surprisingly popular despite what she thought) was also the first member of “The Party” a name for her little brother’s friend group after she introduced them to a game called Dungeons and Dragons. 

Was it surprising that the Barbarian of The Party was angry? Not really since the eldest Henderson child was known in Hawkins to look mean but she was pissed. 

In her defense, after the most hectic sophomore year of high school filled with Demo-gorgons and a mysterious girl named Eleven—she needed a break. She went to an English and Arts program for two months to visit her then-boyfriend, just to go through hell and break up with him. 

So as one would expect when the girl came back from the program and told her little brother to be home by dinner–just for that request to be completely ignored, she was upset.

Asking around her neighbors, she found out a general area of where Dustin could be and when she saw little flashlights and tweaked into her radio system—she was pretty sure she found him. She drove in on her moped, ready to yell at her little brother. 

Honestly, Lacy didn’t know what to expect when she found her brother and his friends in some random junk yard after dark—maybe alcohol, drugs or (more realistically) building a spaceship—but it so wasn’t this. 

“Holy shit! ” Quickly revving up her moped again and running over beings that she didn’t want to name—she grabbed whoever was stupidly out in the open and threw them into the van her brother was hiding in. 

Lacy Henderson grabbed a piece of scrap metal and shoved it against the door as—she hated to think about it—the demogorgons started bashing against the van. “Dustin, you are so dead.” Lacy said, out of breath. “And why the hell is Steve Harrington here?” 

“No time to explain!” The younger Henderson replied as the van shook again. “Demogorgon on the roof!” He shrieked. 

“I swear to god we got rid of those like a year ago!” Lacy groaned as she quickly grabbed a red-headed girl who was staring into the eyes of a Demogorgon and quickly dragged her away. 

Steve “The Hair” Harrington brandished a weaponized baseball bat at the Demogorgon and they all held their breaths. 

The world seemed to stop before the Demogorgon looked away and sprinted into the distance. 

They carefully exited the abandoned van to see a clear coast. 

“Think Steve scared them off?” The red-head asked as they peaked their heads out. 

“No,” Lucas replied—following Steve out the van. “If anything it was Lacy.” 

Lacy shook her head too. “Not a chance.” 

“It was being called somewhere…” Steve Harringotn deduced. 

Sighing, Lacy grabbed a spare metal pole she found and started heading in the direction the Demogorgons went. “C’mon people, we have monsters to chase and questions to ask. Such as who’s the redhead, why is Harrington here and why are Demogorgons still here even after we blasted them to oblivion?” 

▪────  ⚔  ────▪

“Well…now you know who we are—who are you?” The redhead—Max asked. 

Shining the flashlight around, Lacy answered. “Dustin’s older, cooler, better, half sister on our dad’s side—My name is Lacy Isabella Henderson, I witnessed all this shit a year ago and I just came back from a school program. Oh I’m also the Barbarian of our Party. I’m a junior in highschool and freshly single.” 

“You broke up with your boyfriend?” Dustin turned to her. 

She just nodded before Steve Harrington interrupted. “Did you know about Dart?” 

“Who?” 

Dustin shuffled his feet as they kept walking. “I thought I made a super cool discovery of some new species but it was actually a baby demogorgon and I named it Dart. So far, he’s molted three times and went from the size of a lizard to the size of a german shepard in 48 hours.” He summarized. 

Lacy blinked unfazed. “Alright then…”

They started discussing Dart’s rapid growth when Steve pointed out how “Dart” was going to start eating bigger pray than cats—despite Dustin’s aggressive hand signals to stop talking. 

“Dart ate a cat?” Lucas asked incredulously. 

“No!” Dustin denied quickly. 

“What are you talking about?” Steve looked around confused. “Didn’t he eat Mews?” 

Lacy’s jaw dropped. “He ate Mews?” She shrieked.

As arguments started to break out amongst the five—Lucas yelling at Dustin for keeping Dart, Dustin yelling at Lucas for  telling Max about the Party’s secret and Lacy yelling at a demogorgon who probably couldn’t hear her. 

“Hey guys—” Steve tried shushing Lacy who in response swatted him away angrily. “Guys!” He yelled. “Listen!” 

The group quieted down to hear the screeching noises coming from the distance. 

Lacy practiced swinging her metal pipe before running down the hill towards the noise—everyone else quickly followed behind her. 

“Guys?” Max stood in place a bit. “We’re supposed to be going away from the sound, not towards it!” Max protested but soon caved and started chasing after them. 

As they marched towards the lab—flashlights shined down on them from the lab’s entrance. 

“Who the hell is blinding us—for god's sake.” Lacy mumbled to herself as they started to exit the woods—tripping over her feet. “God, Dustin next time, remind me to not wear heels when saving the world.” 

Steve turned to her, unimpressed. “Can’t you take anything seriously?” 

Lacy pitched her voice down to mock him. “Can’t you take anything seriously?” She rolled her eyes and walked in front of him. “I’m literally in mourning! A demogorgon ate my cat!” She brandished her pipe annoyed. “And who is shining lights in my eyes!” 

“Steve?” They heard a feminine voice call out. 

“Nancy?” Steve replied as they walked closer. 

“Jonathan?” Dustin called out. 

“Lacy?” Jonathan called back. 

“What a reunion.” Lacy deadpanned. “What are you guys doing here?” She asked, confused, about why she was seeing her grademates during their hunt for monsters. 

“We’re looking for Mike and Will,” The older siblings responded, putting their flashlights down. 

Lacy furrowed her eyebrows. “They’re…not in there, are they?” Lacy pointed her flashlight over to where the monster infested lab was. 

“We’re not sure, why?” 

The universe answered their question and screams and demogorgon shrieks emitted distantly from the lab. 

Skidding down the hill, Lacy ran into the security hut. “C’mon! We have to get them outta there!” 

They quickly followed after her like ducklings, 

“When did you guys last see my brother?” Nancy asked as they ran down. 

Lacy shrugged. “I got back two hours ago, I’ve only seen these guys.” 

Lucas also tried answering. “Not since this morning—Will had another episode yesterday and—”

“Will had another episode?” Jonathan cut in. 

“Guys!” Nancy started to run faster down the hill. “The powers back on!” 

Jonathan and Dustin ran into the security hut too—pushing buttons and trying to digitally open the gates while the others tried physically lifting the gates. 

After a few minutes of frustrated efforts—Lacy ran into the security hut. 

“Wanna take a whack at it?” Jonathan offered. 

Lacy nodded, cracking her knuckles as Dustin and Jonathan backed up. She took her metal pipe and started hitting the metal buttons. 

“Not—an—actual—whack!” Jonathan tried communicating in between her violent methods. 

A loud buzzer sounded throughout the lab as the metal gates began to open. 

Sighing, Lacy blew a blonde strand from her face. “See? Works every time.” 

Lucas pointed at a sauntering Lacy who threw her metal pipe into a car window and climbed in to steal a small pistol. “The Party’s Barbarian.” He introduced. 

The group leaped out of the way as two cars came speeding out of the now very silent lab. 

One with the markings of the police station skidded in front of them. “Get in!” The Chief of Police yelled. 

Lacy practically threw her brother and his friends into the car—ducking in herself and pulling her classmates in before they drove to the Byer’s house.

 “What the hell happened in there?” 

[l44serbeam]

strawberry blonde

robin buckley x fem!reader  summary: It has been a year of lingering glances and subtle touches and Robin finds herself yearning for y/n. But, she knows she don't like her. She likes that stupid boy from the arcade. The one who always found his way into their conversations and y/n’s phone. But after a day basking in the sun and rolling in the grass, Robin comes to find out, she doesn't know anything after all. a/n: loosely inspired by Strawberry Blonde by Mitski because no matter how hardcore you are, Mitski is superior. 

    ❀ warnings: she/her pronouns used, jealousy, misunderstanding, cursing, kissing, sliiiiiggghhhhtttt makeout

The gentle summer breeze brushed through y/n’s hair, the delicate kiss of the sun subtly nipping at her skin. Her arm was thrown over her eyes, shielding them from the light. The grass beneath her tickled at her sides.

"Shit."

She lifted her arm slightly and cracked open an eye to look at the girl besides her who rummaged through the backpack the two of them had brought to the outing.

"I left the sunglasses." Robin said, her hands falling onto her lap and a contradicting smile shining on her lips.

Robin obviously wasn't smiling about the fact she had to sit and endure the suns painful rays beaming into her eyes. In all honesty, Robin was radiating because of the fact she was here. She was here, on the grass, besides y/n.

"Well," Y/n grunted as she used her elbows to sit up straight. "Seems like we'll have to suck it up." She smiled at Robin, matching hers.

Y/n planted her feet and stood up, looking down at Robin with a joyous expression before beginning to walk further into the grass field the two of them ended up in after roaming around the woods for a while.

Robin remained seated, staring at the indent in the grass y/n’s laying figure had made. Her joyous expression faltered, lips falling hopelessly.

Oh how she wished to lay in that pocket of the earth. How she wanted to curl up and be consumed by it. By y/n. The entire day she'd been watching her in the warm glow of the sun. Her skin radiating with the sunshine and the memory of a smile consuming her face. A year, a goddamn year of this same thing. Of Robin having to watch y/n from a distance as she glowed through her memories. 

A year of complaining to Steve on a daily basis about how desperately in love she was with her.

Said boy had repeatedly told her to do something about her all to passionate feelings but to Robin, that was an utterly revolting idea. 

Having to face rejection by the hand of y/n, her best friend, was the most dreadful thought Robin could think of. Especially considering y/n was basically head over heels over some mediocre boy the two of them had met at the arcade.

That memory was one Robin was more than willing to forget. She remembered how y/n’s eyes lit up the second he made a comment about a patch on her bag about some obscure band she’d been obsessed with. She remembered the way her breezy laughs floated through the air when he made his stupid jokes and the way she chewed on her bottom lip as he scribbled down his stupid phone number on some stupid napkin.

Ever since then, Robin couldn't see a day go by where his name did not tumble out of her lips like a reminder, poking her that she would never be who she wanted. It was a constant reminder that her lips would never get to know what her skin tasted like.

Even in the car, all the windows down and the both of their hairs flying all over the place as y/n drove, her hair sticking onto the chapstick on her lips. How badly Robin wanted to lean over and brush off the hair and kiss those lips, but, y/n was talking on and on about the latest, apparently life changing conversation she had with Jeremiah.

"Robin! Look at the rock i found for you! It looks like a heart!" Y/n called out, pulling Robin out of her hypnotic gay sulking.

Y/n collapsed beside Robin, laying on her side with her elbow holding her up. Her other arm was held extended out to Robin, handing her the rock.

She had to give it to her, the rock did look like a perfect heart. Robin smirked at her kind gesture, but her heart strings were sadly pulled and much to her demise, y/n noticed.

"Hey, what happened?" She asked worriedly, sitting up and turning to directly face her.

"Nothing, I'm fine." She said dryly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and flipping the rock over in her hand.

"That was the shortest sentence I've ever heard you say in the past three years of our friendship, Buckley. Whats up?"

Friendship. Everything seemed to pull at Robin. But, she refused to ruin the past day the two had spent together.

"That feels, almost backhanded, y/n." Robin said, finally making eye contact with y/n, her attempt at a smile on her face.

Y/n leaned her head back, laughing. "I assure you, it was." She joked, bringing her hand up to Robins chin, thumb quickly swiping over it and a loving smile on her face. 

Robin smiled, genuinely, cheeks pinking in the process.  "That's more like it." Y/n mumbled at her gentle laughter.

Robin could get lost in her. The electricity that ran through her. She cursed herself when her eyes automatically shifted to her lips.

Unknown to Robin, y/n caught the flick of her eyelids.

You know how most people use the term about your heart "dropping." That's the opposite of how y/n felt. 

The second Robins crystal clear blue eyes flickered down to her lips, her heart jumped up to her throat, as though if with one spoken word, it would jump out. Suddenly, Robin cleared her throat and subtly leaned away from y/n, noticing she was slowly drifting closer, and closer to her.

"You know, a rock can take from just one day to a million years to formulate. While crystallization takes thousands of years, a basic stone rock like that can take just days. I find it pretty cool. The really sick rocks are the ones that take a long time though. The ones that crystalize i mean. Honestly, thinking about it, being this enthusiastic about rocks is mildly embarrassing and perhaps borderline depressing and you probably didn't need to know all of that but-"

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere but hearing you get excited by rocks." Y/n stated, soothing Robins splintering thoughts of insecurity.

The look Robin gave her was one that you didn't expect. It was a faint smile, her bottom lip tucked in between her teeth and her eyes soft as she glared at her.

"Ok, what's really going on Rob." Y/n said, tired of Robin acting like she was fine.

"Nothing. It's just me being stupid as usual but you don't need to worry about it. I'm just thinking about some stupid shit that I'll get over. You don't have to worry."

"You're my best friend and have been since i dont know fucking when. I love you Rob. You're acting strange and im noticing and i hate the fact your undermining your own shit. You can tell me, ok?"

"That's the thing y/n/n, i can't. I want to, but i can't." She sputtered too quickly.

"If you want to tell me i don't understand why you can't if its something genuinely bothering you and making you act all weird around me." Y/n said, leaning forward and bending her neck to meet Robins at eye-level since hers was looking at a patch of grass between the two of them.

"Because, y/n, if i tell you, you'll hate me and you can't hate me. Ok. I don't know what id do if you hated me y/n and i know that this will make you hate me." She once again spit even though all of her being was yelling at her to shut up.

"Woah woah woah, Robin. Hate you? There's nothing you can possibly say that can make me hate you." She reassured, reaching her hand out to grab hers, but, Robin pulled hers away and backed away, standing up.

"No y/n. There is something that can make you hate me."

Y/n practically jumped up to her feet. "Robin what the fuck is going on?!" The world seemed to spin around Robin, a lot faster than preferred. She felt dizzy and like she couldn't control herself. She couldn't take it anymore. Having her heart ache whenever y/n cuddled up next to her while you watched a movie because she had no clue of how hard Robins heart would beat and her breathing would speed whenever she did.

"YOU ARE! Y/N YOU ARE WHAT'S GOING ON! ALL THE TIME! I can't think about anyone but you y/n." She looked at her, tears threatening to spill. The suddenness of her words took y/n aback. It couldn't be. There was no possible way Robin meant what you thought she meant.

"Robin what are you talking about?" Y/n said, barely above a whisper.

"Im talking about the fact that i am completely in love with you y/n. And i have to sit around and listen to you talk and talk about Mr. Mansplain and keep my mouth shut because i am terrified of this! Because i am terrified of what is happening right now i mean you obviously-"

Robin was cut off. For a second, she thought she had to be dreaming. There was no way this was happening.

All Robin could process was the fact that y/ns lips, were on hers and her hands gripped onto the sides of her neck.

Out of shock, it took Robin a moment or two to respond but when she did, it was like the entire world around the two of them began melting. Robins hands found their way to her hips, closing the distance of your bodies.

The two of them backed away, staring at one another with an expression of shock, like the both of them were still trying to figure out if that actually just happened.

"oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." Robin repeated, her eyes still wide as she looked into yours.

You laughed at that, Robin beginning to return it.

"I cant believe that actually just happened, what the fuck. I thought you were like in love with whatever his name is. Wait, are you? Did you feel pressured to do this because if you did I'm so-"

She began to lean away, fear taking over her thoughts but y/n grabbed onto her tighter.

"Wait, is that what you thought? You thought Jeremiah and i are a thing?"

"I mean yeah considering you never shut up about him and all."

Y/n leaned her head back and barked out in laughter. Robin scrunched her eyebrows.

"No Rob. Love, he's gay." Y/n said, extending y in gay. Robins eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

"Yeah I've been talking about him a lot because I've been wanting to make you be encouraged to be friends with him so you two can talk and you know, identify your similarities. I mean, we aren't exactly out to everyone and i didnt want to go around exposing you both to the other, i wanted it to happen naturally."

"Oh my god, i am such an idiot." Robin mumbled.

"No, I'm sorry i made you think that Rob. I mean like, really sorry. Especially considering i feel the same way about you." She said, the last part coming out of her mouth slightly quieter and shyer.

Robin didn't know what to say, for once in her life. So instead, she leaned in and caught her lips once again.

Now, the two of them stood in the middle of a field, the setting sun shining onto them, their bodies pressed against one another, lips latched onto the others. It was perfect. Everything about what was occurring was utterly perfect.  After a few moments, the two backed away, foreheads pressed against one another and breaths heavy. 

“I can't believe we could’ve been doing that earlier.” Robin said, making y/n laugh.

“Instead of complaining, why don't you make up for the lost time, Buckley.”

[kaylans-imagines]

S2. Ep 3 & 4

The Pollywog & Will the Wise

Word count: 3477

chapter warnings: semi follows the plot. lowkey kinda repetitive. cursing. post halloween party. billy.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Nights in Hawkins were cold, but Y/N couldn’t feel anything other than the sugar in her system. After they had ditched the party, Steve and Y/N went on the hunt for candy, the pair craving it. They’d located it (Steve gave two kids ten dollars each for their bags) and walked until they found the precipice of the lake. Steve had helped her onto the tabletop of the wooden set and handed her a bag of candy. 

“You still regret coming back to Hawkins?” Steve asked after she popped in a chocolate bar. She stared at him with wide eyes, causing the two to break into a fit of laughter. 

“No,” she answered, “Weird as it may sound, I missed Hawkins.”

“Why’d you come back?” he asked, unknowingly striking a nerve. Y/N tensed and looked at her hands. 

“Just missed my dad’s all,” 

The two justified the strange silence between them by eating their candy. She would risk glances at Steve, missing it when he did the same to her. It took a while and several candy bars until the two got comfortable, sharing anecdotes that wouldn’t make sense under normal circumstances. Tears in their eyes, the two shared the same thought. It felt as if they were kids again, sharing secrets and jokes. As if she’d never left. 

“Of, fuck,” she cursed, risking a glance at her watch, “oh, shit. We have to go.” 

“Why?” Steve laughed, “your car turning into a pumpkin at 1?”

She would’ve laughed at his stupid joke had she not been panicking, “no, but if I’m late, my dad’s gonna have a hernia.” 

Her words were sobering. Steve rushed down from the wooden table and urged her to his car, driving to Tina’s house with determination. She thanked him in a hurried tone and got into her car, speeding away and leaving Steve behind her. 

With haste, she opened the door, praying to any higher being that it was kept unlocked for her. Silently celebrating when the lock didn’t give her any problems, she stepped in and looked around the dark cabin. A sigh of relief escaped her mouth at the sight of an empty house, her father nowhere to be seen.

“Do you know what time it is, Tulip Hopper?” She jumped at the sound of her father’s rough voice. 

“Quarter till one,” Y/N responded, a sheepish smile on her face. Her eyes settled on her father, who sat on the love seat, a beer in hand. 

“You said midnight,” he reminded. Y/N shook her head in disagreement, instantly regretting it when the dizziness hit her. 

“I said one at the latest,” Hopper rolled his eyes.

“You smell like the back of a bar,” he accused, “were you drinking? And driving?”

Y/N shook his head, “never. I had a drink spilled on me. I just had a pillowcase worth of candy, that’s all.” 

Hopper sighed, “just go to bed. You have school in the morning.” 

“Good idea,” Y/N nodded, the sugar crash finally hitting her. She stumbled into her bedroom, falling face-first on the mattress. “Good night, Dad. Good night, El.”

“Go to sleep, Tulip!” her father exclaimed from the living room. 

~*~

The basketball scrimmage had long since started by the time Y/N entered the gym. She sat on the wooden bleachers beside her friend Maura, eyes moving from player to player until they settled on Steve. She glanced behind him at the guy guarding him. He was close. Too close for it to be considered fair play, but she doubted that Steve, or the guy, cared. She cringed, watching Steve get pushed back, scowling at the guy. He was obnoxious. 

“Steve?” Nancy Wheeler’s voice called out from the entrance of the gym. Y/N's gaze turned to her, as did Steve’s. Her eyes followed Steve’s body as he left the room. Y/N sighed. Her first class with Steve, and he hadn’t acknowledged her. It was as if the moments they shared the previous night didn’t matter to him. Spilling details of their lives on the edge of a lake while gorging on candy replayed in her mind, becoming a happy memory. But to Steve, it was probably nothing. 

The game had been put on a timeout, the shirts team citing a loss of a member. Y/N placed a hand under her chin and propped it on her knee. The teacher had told her since she was new, she wouldn’t be forced to participate in any events. Not so close to the end of the semester, at least. 

A nudge on her shoulder had Y/N looking at Maura, who only pointed upwards at the boy blocking her view. 

“Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be so bored,” a gruff voice came from above her. She blinked unamused and made eye contact with the curly-haired douchebag.  

“Can’t help it. You guys suck,” the boy took an uninvited seat next to her, effectively pushing Maura and her friends down the bench, spreading his legs until his knees touched hers. She moved them, giving him a side-eye. 

“Even me?” he asked, smirk cooly cemented on his face, unfazed by her noticeable recoil. 

“Especially you,” she replied, “Cheap shots are never entertaining.” 

“What do you know about cheap shots in basketball?” he asked, blue eyes blinking at her through his lashes. She stared at him, unimpressed. 

“I’m not an idiot,” she said, “you can’t rely on natural talent, so you resort to cheating.”

“I wouldn’t cheat on you,” he flirted. Y/N rolled her eyes. 

“I don’t even know your name,” 

“Billy,” he informed, stretching back against the bleachers and throwing his arm around her, “Billy Hargrove.” 

“Mmhmm,” she wanted out of the conversation, “you still don’t know mine.” 

“Pretty girl like you’s gotta have a pretty name,” 

She thanked the heavens the second the whistle blew. Billy stood up and ran back to his team, flexing at her. She rolled her eyes. Gym class would be her longest class if Hargrove kept his pitiful antics. Steve ran back through the doors, distress evident on his face. She wondered what happened between him and Nancy. She wondered how they got involved in the first place. Steve and Y/N were a year older than her. It was odd. 

~*~

Closing her locker shut after her history class, Y/N groaned. “Billy.” 

“Word around the hall’s saying your name’s Tulip.” He boasted. Y/N blinked in annoyance, wondering which one of her friends had shared that information with him. The second day of classes had proved more successful than her first. She’d reunited with her old friends, and it was almost as if she’d never left. 

“Only friends call me Tulip,” she stated, moving away from him. To her chagrin, he kept her pace. 

“I can be more than a friend to you,” he whispered, leaning close to her ear, “that is if you want.” 

“Hard pass,” she glared. She wondered who she killed in a past life to have deserved a punishment such as holding Billy Hargrove’s attention. Her rejection only seemed to ignite something in him and make him want her more. 

“I’ll make you crack,” he promised, “I’ll have you begging for me.” 

“If you say so,” she called over her shoulder, “oh, and just for your information, Billy, my dads the chief of police.” 

Watching his suave demeanor fade was like a sweet victory to her. She joined the rest of the students walking out of the front entrance and set about her walk to the cabin. Elton John sang into her ears through her walkman. A burgundy car pulled up beside her, honking to gain her attention. Y/N startled and glared at the culprit. 

“Why are you so obnoxious, Harrington?” she questioned, stopping in her tracks to talk to the boy through the open window. 

“‘Cause it’s fun,” he smirked, eyes settling on the walkman tucked in her back pocket, “you going far?”

“Just home,” she replied with a shrug, “nothing too bad.” 

“Get in,” he demanded softly, “I can take you.” 

Y/N clicked her tongue, “and what about Nancy? Won’t she get mad when she hears you had another girl in your car?” Especially if the said girl was your crush way back when. 

“I couldn’t care less about her right now,” Steve clipped, “now, get in the car, Rose.” 

“You’re bossy,” she muttered as she got into the passenger seat of his car. He motioned for her to turn her window up to let the cold air remain outside. She was internally grateful she wouldn’t have to partake in the lengthy walk to the cabin. The autumn air had ripped in through the seams of her light sweatshirt and kissed her cheeks, turning them cold and dry. She had been wise enough to protect her lips with a tinted gloss. 

“What were you listening to?” Steve asked, head motioning towards her walkman before his eyes turned back to the road. 

“Your Song by Elton John,” she responded. Steve hummed, fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

“Pop it in?” he asked. She smiled and obliged, taking it out of the walkman and into his stereo, Elton John’s low voice echoing through the car. She watched Steve’s face, searching for any signs that would tell her whether he liked the song or not. A slight flicker of the eyes or a twitch of the lips. But he gave her nothing. She glared at him.

“Well,” she queried, “what do you think?” 

He hummed, “it’s okay.” 

She frowned at him, looking through his collection, “Elton John is more than okay. I shouldn’t even be wasting my breath. You like Wham!” 

“What’s wrong with Wham!?” he questioned, “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go is a great song.”

Y/N scoffed, “yeah, for a middle school, prepubescent boy. You don’t know real music, Harrington. I saw one, ONE, Queen tape in your entire collection.” 

“I have more at home,” he defended. It was a lie, but he didn’t want Y/N to continue picking at his less-than-stellar music taste. She only looked at him, staring right through his lie. She shook her head and changed the tape for another. Steve wasn’t going to admit it, not to his haughty friend, but her music was starting to grow on him. 

He pulled up in front of the cabin, placed the car into park, and turned to look at her with a soft look on his face. She looked at him, “what happened with you and Nancy?” 

Steve closed his eyes, “nothing important, okay? She’s not important right now.”

“Okay,” was all she said, not wanting to push him. “I’m going to leave my tape here. You know, so that you can have some decent music in your life.”

With those as her parting words, she stepped out of the car and walked towards the door. She waited until Steve was gone before she knocked on the door, waiting for El to open the door as she usually did. When Y/N didn’t hear the locks click, she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Despite being distant, El was reliable. She would open the door within seconds of the knocking. The older girl wondered if El was as contrarious as her father was. If their fight the night before had extended onto her by extension of Hopper. 

She tried the knock a final time. When the door failed to open, she submitted to her fate. With an annoyed groan, she sat down on the wooden steps and pulled out her notebooks with an annoyed groan. With the fleeting sunlight, she forced her eyes to focus on the numbers and words set against the white paper. It was pointless; the cold was merciless with its goal to make her miserable. 

Hawkins was a safe town, but the woods were impetuous. The familiar sound of leaves crunching captured her attention. She had been vigilant the entire time she’d been sitting on the steps. The sight of her father had her sighing in relief. He gave her a weak smile and shrugged off his coat, wrapping it around her with the zipper. Hopper felt guilt course through him and settle in his gut at Y/N’s shivering. It wasn’t a cold night, but she had been left outside for hours with only the clothes on her back. In the middle of the woods. 

“Let’s get you inside, Tulip,” he soothed, opening the door and letting her step in first. For a moment, the thought of El risking herself absconded his mind. He focused on bringing warmth to his eldest daughter, wanting nothing more than to prevent a cold from grasping onto her. Y/N wasn’t unaware that her dad felt guilty about leaving her to the uncompassionate weather, so she allowed him to dote on her. 

“Where’s El?” she asked after her father had placed one too many blankets across her body. Her father tensed. 

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. Y/N nodded and let the conversation fade out. She was well-versed in her father’s moods, knowing when it was okay to trapeze and pry, and when to let the topic float away. She had yet to be informed on anything regarding El, but the topic was a touchy one for her father. Y/N had decided to let allow Hopper to come to her first about it and inform her on his own time. She didn’t know if she was being passive or understanding. 

“You know, dad now would be a great time for you to explain everything,” Y/N tried, eyes boring into his. Hopper’s movements halted as he looked at his daughter and sighed. 

“I will tell you everything in due time, Tulip,” he said, placing a mug of hot chocolate on the table in front of her, “I promise.” 

His promise had her dropping the topic. He knew how sacred they were to her and just how impeccable she would become if he didn’t make good on it. She took them to heart, and every one she’d ever been made embedded itself in it. If the person dared to break one of their sacred oaths, her heart would go with it. It was trivial, she knew, but she took them seriously. Y/N leaned back against the cushions with a nod and closed her eyes. She could hear her father pacing. 

“Dad,” she called, “El will show up, please stop pacing.”

The door opened and then closed, “that’s one way of stopping.” She couldn’t be bothered to be annoyed as long as her father stopped adding onto her growing headache. From the corner of her barely open eyes, she could see the silhouette of her father on the porch, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers. Part of her was worried about El, but guilt coursed through her veins at the thought of it being a small part. She knew no one would blame her–she’d only just met her–but the older sister part of her did. El was her sister, whether she liked it or not. For a brief moment, the image of Sara splayed through her mind. Her younger sister would be disappointed at the thought of Y/N not accepting someone as family. Especially someone her father had taken in as his own. 

El stomped in before her father did. Hopper slamming the door only worsened her headache. She had only ever seen her father furious once in her life. He was an easy man to anger, his anger issues only inflaming after he came back from the war. He had sworn that he would never raise his voice at her the last time she’d seen him infuriated. Her father had kept his promise, but he never said anything about not raising his voice around her. 

“‘Friends don’t lie.’ Isn’t that your bullshit saying?” from her place on the couch, surrounded by the mountain of blankets, she could see Hopper and El. She winced. The younger girl stomped towards the bedroom, Hopper following her with the same volcanic anger. 

“Hey, hey! Hey! Don’t walk away from me!” His hand stopped the door from slamming. She could see El, her face distraught and unwavering. Y/N’s heart panged at the sight of her watery eyes, but she couldn’t do anything. Not while her head pounded uncontrollably. 

“Where’d you go on your little field trip, huh?” her father asked, his words biting, “where?”

Y/N wasn’t blind to the look of sadness in El’s eyes. Hopper seemed to have missed it in his anger. She watched the two, voices raised and fingers pointing. Y/N felt small and awkward like she was intruding. Despite being part of the family, she felt like an outsider. The two knew things that Y/N didn’t, and they hadn’t shown any signs of including her. Not wanting to be a spectator, she walked into her shared bedroom and closed the door. Sounds of things moving and falling filled her ears. She ignored it. Whatever was happening behind her four walls was between El and Hopper. 

El slammed the door shut, and in her headache-induced mind, Y/N brushed off the fact that she did it without touching it. She stared at El as she slid against the wall and let out a sharp scream, the sound of glass breaking echoing through the closed door. Y/N stood up from her bed, a pink blanket wrapped around her as she sat beside El.

“El?” she tried cautiously, “can I hug you?” 

The jerk of her head was small, swift. She almost missed it. Y/N opened her arms and pulled her in, draping the pink blanket across their shoulders. El’s sobs wracked her body, and all Y/N did was hold her, small comforting words leaving her lips. Y/N’s fingers drew shapes on El’s arms, trying to keep El’s tears at bay. El’s breathing evened out, and Y/N stood up, her arms under her knees, and lifted her. She set her on her bed and kissed her forehead, tucking her in. For the first time, she felt as if she were El’s sister. 

She decided to give Hopper space. As much as she wanted both of them to be on good terms, meddling and playing the person in the middle was the last thing she wanted to do. Settling into her bed again, she wrapped herself in her blanket and closed her eyes. Her father was going to apologize eventually, he was the adult, and he was out of hand. It wasn’t going to happen the usual way; he would do it in his own Jim Hopper way. He would begin the apology and then go back to being a hard-ass. 

~*~

Gym class was her least favorite class. Billy Hargrove was relentless. He deemed her worthy of his attention, and while others may have swooned, she felt it was punishment for something. Her declaration of her being the Chief’s daughter did nothing to dissuade him; it only tamed some of his comments. The moment she stepped into the gymnasium, the sight of a shirtless Billy greeted her. 

“Liking what you see?” Billy asked. Y/N gave him a blank look and pushed past him. He only laughed and followed after her.

“I’m gonna make you want me,” he stated. 

“Tough chance,” was her reply. She turned away from him. He chuckled and walked away, flexing his muscles and making his way to the basketball court. She watched the game before them, noticing the dirty way Billy played. She wasn’t going to deny he was attractive, she understood why he had a flock of girls swooning over him, but he wasn’t the one she had her eyes set on. Billy Hargrove was too abrasive for her liking. 

Her mind wandered back to El. She felt bad for the girl. Her father was hardheaded and stubborn, and while she had a great relationship with him, it wasn’t easy to build it. She only hoped his relationship with El would get better with time. She also hoped El would trust her as a sister would, to come to her when she needed comfort or company. Last night had been the first step towards that. 

“Hey,” Steve’s voice called from behind her. She turned to smile at him, waiting for him to catch up to her. 

“King Steve,” she greeted teasingly, “how can this humble commoner help you?”

Steve nudged her with his shoulder, “shut up. You know they’re calling you Hawkins’ Flower, right?” 

Y/N glowered at him, “shut up.”

Steve laughed and stuck his hands in his pocket, “I need your help.”

Y/N turned to him, “with what?”

“Apologizing to Nancy,”

Y/N nodded, ignoring the growing green she felt in her body, “okay, what do you need?”

The grin on Steve’s face was worth the subtle breaking in her heart and the growing pit of sadness.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

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