#steve harrington x henderson! reader

[hawkinsindiana]

we won’t be like them

ALMOST PARADISE: PART FOUR - CHAPTER EIGHT OF NINE

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader

word count: 10.4k

a/n: gulp. thanks to ms ruby @stevebabey​ for helping me w the early stages of the shower scene ehheheheheh. YES THERE’S A SHOWER SCENE!!!!!!! warnings for descriptions of blood/wounds, general nondescript nudity, major character deaths, and loooooooooots of physical touch pls enjoy!!!!

masterlist

Steve says your name, breaking through the haze of dread and anxiety that’s overtaken you in the last several minutes. His palms grip your face intently as he finally gets you to focus on him, your wide eyes locking onto his. Despite being back in Hawkins, his palms are still slightly chilled from the freezing temperature of the Upside Down; the longer he spends with his skin on yours, you can feel yourself warming him up. He looks scared, panicked even.

Steve’s voice is firm and a bit stern with every ounce of his conviction pouring out into his words, “He’s a smart kid, okay? We’re gonna find him.”

All you can manage is a small nod. Your throat is dry. You can tell Steve’s desperate to keep a level head, but he’s bursting at the seams, emotion showing even though he doesn’t mean it to.

The one time you weren’t with the teens and this happens.

You two agreed that they’ve grown more capable; if there was anywhere your skills would be needed, it was with Nancy. It wasn’t her who you should’ve been helping.

You wished her luck as she landed on the sidewalk outside the RV with Creel House a few yards ahead. If either you or Steve had been there to protect them, this never would have happened. Whatever it was that went wrong may have been prevented; the plan wasn’t great, but it wasn’t terrible. That doesn’t matter anymore.

You left her to die. You swore to yourself that you’d keep her safe and you left her to fend for herself.

Your brother’s missing. He’s not at the RV like he promised he’d be.

A gentle tap on your face brings you back — you hadn’t noticed you’d fallen into your thoughts once again. Steve’s eyes continue to bore into yours although you’re unable to give any further acknowledgement. He swallows harshly; you’re in shock. He can’t help you any further right now.

Regretfully, Steve removes his hands from you and rises from his knees. He doesn’t want to leave you. 

“Just… just stay right here, okay? Don’t move,” He says, his fingers reaching out to the axe in the dirt beside him, “I’m gonna help them look. I’ll be right back.”

Steve presses a firm kiss to the skin above your eyebrow and vanishes around the corner of the RV, leaving you to sit alone on the steps that lead inside the vehicle. In his absence, you can hear the sporadic shouts of your brother’s name from Robin and Nancy; Steve’s voice joins theirs. Emergency sirens grow in the distance.

You can’t pull your gaze from the red glow. The crack in the earth shredded the landscape with ease, destroying many of the trailers in its wake. You wonder if any of those families survived — it’s not likely they did. The sky, while dark from the late hour, fades into a maroon haze that rises from the gate and the surrounding tree line. What does the rest of Hawkins look like? Is your mom safe? The Wheelers? The Sinclairs?

The Munson’s is gone. You imagine it splintered to pieces and was sucked into the gate as it appeared, torn apart in the same way Creel House did with the four of you inside. You barely escaped with the others. The chimes of the grandfather clock didn’t sound how you expected, but rather like haunting bell tolls from Hell, marking the end of so many lives. It was an awful sound; it’s one you’re not sure you’ll ever forget.

Lucas and Erica were inside Creel House too. Dustin and Eddie would’ve been in his trailer.

More tears burn your eyes. Your hand rises to your forehead; the spot Steve kissed feels warm. There’s pressure in your chest. You’re still loved. Someone still loves you. You’ve done terrible things and you’re still loved. You left her to die.

A ragged sigh is pushed from your lungs when your lip begins to quiver. Far too many tears have already been spilled, but you can’t seem to find the will to stop. Your feelings have always been big — strong enough that it used to feel like a superpower to experience emotion so deeply. But now, after all you’ve been through, it feels like a curse. Everything feels too big. This level of grief and regret… you’ll have to learn to tolerate it. A section of your heart will need to be carved out to make room. Your failure has cost lives. More blood stains your hands; your palms are already spattered. Maybe this is a feeling you’ll need to get used to.

You’re still loved. You left her to die. Your head hurts.

Despite the thoughts fighting for dominance inside your mind, another voice cuts through the air like a knife through silk — Dustin’s voice. You wonder if it’s a dream or some sick trick of Vecna’s as you see him emerge from the edge of your periphery, a long shadow cast over the ground. It takes you a moment to register him as tangible, then you notice his limp. Immediately, you rise to meet him. You sprint a distance of fifty feet in mere seconds.

Dustin’s the first to go in for a hug; you’re more worried about the state of his injury until you see the tears that track down his face too. You gladly welcome his embrace, your arms settling around his shoulders. Your brother cries harder and some semblance of relief washes over the pair of you — the Hendersons made it out alive. Selfishly, you’re glad others were killed and not him. You instantly feel guilty for that thought.

The thought of another crosses your mind. You’re almost afraid to ask.

“Where’s Eddie?”

Dustin’s breathing comes in disjointed heaves. His voice is clogged from his sobs.

“I h-had to… I just…”

As he struggles to speak, Steve jogs over to the pair of you. A myriad of emotions are etched across his face — relief, fear, and perhaps a hint of anger. You lock eyes as Dustin pushes through his stutters and confirms what you thought.

“I had to leave him there. His body’s s-still in there.”

His body.

More guilt washes through you. Steve’s mouth presses into a firm line and he casts his gaze down towards the ground. A hand smooths over the crease in his forehead, the other still holding the axe tightly. He curses under his breath. 

How many lives did this failure cost?

You squeeze your brother even tighter, one of your palms slipping to cradle the back of his head. You want to take this feeling from him and carry it instead. Dustin sighs a rather deep breath, his words muffled against the fabric of your vest, “Max is gone too, isn’t she?”

At the mention of the girl, your resolve crumbles. Your shoulders sag from the weight of her name, now burned into your mind as a reminder of what more you could’ve done. More tears pool behind your eyelashes; you blink and they fall, pouring down over your face. Your reaction is enough of an answer for him, but not for you. You inhale, knowing that your actions, or lack thereof, took one of your brother’s best friends away from him. You left her to die.

“I’m so sorry,” You mumble. It’s unclear who you’re saying it to, or which death you’re comforting him over. Maybe it’s for everything.

A weight lays across the line of your shoulders; not another moment passes before Steve’s brow is pressing into your temple, his nose nudging the swell of your cheek. His other arm wraps firmly around Dustin as you instinctively lean into his touch, beckoning him closer without retreating from your brother’s embrace. It’s a bit of an awkward position but no one has the mind to care, especially as the three of you come to terms with what’s happened and what’s to come. This is a weight you’ll carry forever.

— 

Steve has a pretty strict ‘no-dust-in-my-car’ policy; tonight, it is completely disregarded. He doesn’t particularly care that Dustin doesn’t wipe his feet off before entering, or that your pants are probably depositing dirt in the passenger’s seat. It is a major sigh of relief to be somewhere familiar — in this case, Steve’s BMW parked in the Maple Street cul-de-sac. You abandoned the Winnebago one street over.

Exhausted doesn’t begin to describe what you’re feeling. Your mind is blank and your body is sore. Everything hurts in one way or another. You can’t tell if you’ll be able to sleep or not, but you know you need rest, preferably with your love curled up beside you.

It takes a few minutes longer than normal to reach the driveway to your home. Roads have already been closed off by police and detours made around the damage. People are hastily packing up their families and clogging up the streets as they abandon their homes — you wish you had the luxury. 

You pull the spare key from its usual place in the light fixture on the porch. The second you insert it into the lock, the door opens from the opposite side; your mother stands before you clad in an obnoxiously fluffy pink robe. She appears to be bouncing between worry, anger and relief, which blooms into unmistakable concern. There’s fresh bruising on your neck and Dustin’s arm is thrown across Steve’s shoulders to keep him balanced. 

You imagine the three of you clad in military green and protective attire must be quite a sight. You feel pathetic. You feel like a child. 

“It’s a…” You pause to clear your throat, which has only grown raspier since your experience at Creel House; you can still feel the tendril constricting your airflow. 

“It’s a long story. I promise we’ll tell yo-”

Before you can finish, your mom pulls you into a tight hug, effectively silencing the excuse you had conjured up on the drive over. Right now she doesn’t care what it was that kept you away so long, she’s just glad you’re safe. It takes a bit of effort to hide your wince as her hand smooths over the wound on your back, but more than anything, it feels good to be home and welcomed by the comfort of your mother’s touch. 

She doesn’t know the things you’ve done; you hope it stays that way.

As she pulls away, her hands shift to hold your face for a moment before switching her attention.

“Oh my boys,” She mumbles, reaching out to greet Dustin and Steve next. She does the same, pulling them both into a tight hug and plants a kiss on each of their cheeks. After they break away, Steve gently leads Dustin back into his bedroom, per his request. All he wants to do is sleep.

You manage to convince your mom that food can wait until the morning, so she nervously darts off to help your brother in whatever way he needs. As Steve exits Dustin’s room, your tired eyes meet and your outstretched hands follow. Instantly, warmth spreads through your veins at his touch; you need more. You lead him along the familiar path from the hall and into your bedroom.

It’s sparser than it used to be, but it’s still a relief to be greeted by the wallpaper you picked in your youth. This space exudes nothing but comfort — even more so when Steve scoops you into his hold the second you enter.

The moment you’re settled with your arms slung around his shoulders and his firmly clutching your ribs, it’s like the both of you melt. A deep cleansing exhale somehow pulls you closer until you’re fairly confident there’s no place where your souls begin or end. For everything that went wrong today, thank god the love you share has endured.

“I’m so fucking exhausted.”

You hum in agreement at Steve’s words, muttered from deep in the bend of your neck. You can feel his tiredness, evident in how he’s practically leaning against you to stay upright. His fingers are slightly trembling against you — a side effect of adrenaline threaded through his veins for too long. Now that it’s finally beginning to wane, all that’s left is the desire to rest. 

You bury your face deeper into his clothes, greedily taking in every ounce of solace you can. While his touch is soothing, you unsurprisingly find yourself hungry for more, craving skin against skin after all these heavy garments have been stripped away. The longer you spend here in each other’s embrace, the more of a necessity it becomes.

“Stay with me tonight. Please.”

Steve huffs a tiny laugh, “You’re crazy for thinking I was going anywhere else.”

You allow the hint of a smile to crack your solemn exterior; it’s stupid how good it feels to hear a bit of humor fall from his lips. Instantly, you feel guilty for enjoying a spark of happiness.

He shifts his hold and pulls away enough to meet your eyes. His exhaustion would be easy to miss if you didn’t know him better than anyone else. A small frown creates that crease between his brow as his hand rises to ghost over your cheek; it’s hard to keep the shiver at bay that comes from him lightly skimming the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone. Your skin is ashy, coated in a layer of dust and splatters of blood, belonging to you and those disgusting creatures. He wants to wipe away all reminders of these horrible few days. An awful knot forms at the bottom of his stomach as he remembers not all of them are going to disappear.

Steve drops his hand to your shoulder before smoothing his palm down the side of your arm, “Go get cleaned up, yeah? I’ll bring your spare clothes.”

You nod once and say a silent thank you in the form of a kiss, gently pressed to the skin above his jawline; your lips prickle against the stubble that resides there. For a moment, you spot the hint of a blush beneath the grime that flecks his face. You smile a bit, for something so simple as a kiss from you still earns a reaction as sweet as your love. 

With that, Steve removes his hands from you and disappears out the bedroom door. The sound of his car keys echoes through the dark living room while you shuffle down the hall; through the walls, you catch the muffled voice of your mother and the quiet sobs from Dustin. That golden feeling in your chest dissipates.

It takes a few seconds for the temperature of the shower to shift from freezing cold to comfortably warm. Before you have the chance to make any additional adjustments, a knock on the door steals your focus. It’s Steve; a case of déjà vu clouds your mind. 

“Here you go, sweetheart,” He whispers as he passes you a small stack of folded clothes. They turn out to be nothing more than one of his long sleeved tees, as well as a fresh pair of socks and underwear. The emergency outfits for situations just like this, hidden away in the back of Steve’s trunk, don’t have comfort in mind. Your eyes meet as you thank him, your voice even softer than his. 

You feel the need to comfort him building up inside your chest, like a compulsion you wouldn’t dare try to defy. He’s done such a good job of protecting and caring for you — you’d like to return the favor. You place your free hand onto his forearm and begin gently guiding him into the room with you; your touch, as well as the delicate gaze that accompanies, serves as a silent invitation he understands through all his weariness. 

As Steve shuts the door behind him, the steam from the shower immediately begins to enhance his exhaustion. Sluggishly, he sets his own bundle of clothes onto the counter beside yours. Before he can reach for you, you’ve already sunk down to the tile, your nimble fingers tugging at the triple knotted laces of his boots. Once you’ve managed to loosen the shoes, he steps out of them with ease; they’re a size and a half too big. The boots are discarded by the door with a heavy thunk. 

Steve’s kneeling as soon as he can and repeats the same action on you. He works quickly to undo your laces and with a hand pressed to the back of your calf for support, he pulls each shoe off. Another heavy thunk near the door. 

A tired silence falls over the pair of you as Steve straightens back up to his full height, minus a heavy sag in his posture. His fingers come to tug on the side of your vest, zippers and velcro ripping as he gingerly eases it off you. He can feel the relief roll through your body in a wave, one less weight on your injured shoulder and before he can continue, you’re repeating the action on him. 

Steve’s chest heats with love as you begin removing his own vest with care; the jacket follows soon after and they’re both discarded onto the tile. He briefly wonders what to do with them — he’d love to have a stupid bonfire and burn it all, along with the terrible memories of the past few days. But your voice in his head reminds him that can’t be done, that there’s a chance you’ll need this armor again. He grows even wearier with that thought. As if you can sense it, because of course you can, your hands press into his skin and bring him back out of his head.

The skirting touches are against the skin of his waist, just below the sweat-soaked gauze your warm fingers placed there not long ago. But now, your hands are calloused and on the brink of blistering, worn from weapon use. Although the sensation is slightly different than he’s used to, Steve would recognize the curious intention beneath those palms anywhere. It’s still you, even if a bit jaded.

Steve lets you work the fabric of his shirt off him. He winces when he twists too far to the side; pain splinters off in all directions from his stomach wounds, irritated and angry after hours of strenuous movement. Your worried eyes dart up to study his expressions, intent on putting him through as little discomfort as you can. Gently, he manages to pull his arms through the sleeves and tugs it over his head with a small hiss. It’s tossed into the pile with everything else.

He’s glad you don’t protest when he begins the same process on you. Once the zipper of your suit is down its track and you start to remove the clothing, a particularly pained whimper escapes you. Steve stills in an instant, waiting for your face to relax before he continues to guide your arms out of the thick sleeves. It takes you a moment to slip out of the fabric now bunched around your thighs; one of Steve’s hands grips your uninjured shoulder for balance as you slide the suit down to the floor. Goosebumps erupt over your bare legs as your skin is exposed to the air, which grows warmer by the minute due to the steam from the shower. It makes it more difficult for you to stay awake, your eyelids drooping even further as you step out of the clothing, pulling your socks off quickly as well. 

Both of your gazes are much different than they normally would be in similar circumstances to this. You’re far too upset, far too angry, far too exhausted to even allow yourselves the luxury of such thoughts. Neither of your eyes carry a single hint of that type of warmth, but a different one instead — the kind that comes from fierce trust and overwhelming love.

Rather than beginning to remove any more clothing, you kneel back to the ground and open the cabinet beneath the sink. After a few seconds of clattering plastic hidden from Steve’s view, you emerge with a rather large first aid kit. Without getting up, you place it onto the countertop and root around for a box of bandages — all shapes and sizes. It pains Steve to think you had prepared for this, knowing that someday you could come home with a wound so terrible that it must be treated with this amount of care, including sutures and hospital grade gauze. He wonders how long it’s been down there, packed away from the prying eyes of your mother so she'd never stumble upon it while cleaning. 

When you finally rise once again, your fingers ghost over his abdomen and the bandage you placed there earlier. Both of your wounds need to be flushed with water and gently washed in the shower, now that you have the proper time. As you begin unwrapping the gauze across his stomach, trying not to focus too intently on the deep shade of maroon that’s seeped through the fabric, Steve exhales deeply in preparation. His eyes screw shut and he blindly reaches behind him to grasp the lip of the sink, a cold sweat starting to trickle down his spine.

“That’s it, Stevie,” You mumble as you continue your tedious work, “You’re doing so good. Last layer.”

What was once alabaster white is stained — hues of red and brown from dried and fresher blood. Steve swears it’s fused to his skin, a whimper breaking past his lips as you lift a scab off when you pull. An apology is already out of your mouth.

You’re frozen, stuck a moment too long scanning the wounds on his abdomen. From the bob in your throat as you swallow, Steve can feel the guilt, sadness, and pain that radiates from you; seeing your lover in this state never gets easier, no matter how used to it you might be. You sniffle quietly.

A soft brush of Steve’s fingers across your cheek forces your eyes upwards. You’re able to blink back the tears as he swipes his thumb over your skin. It’s a silent act of reassurance, but how much it actually does to soothe you, neither of you know.

He shifts his hand to your shoulder, accentuating the movement with a nod of his head and muttering softly, “Turn around.”

You spin on the cool tile at his request, wincing as you begin hiking up the fabric of your tank; the motion angers your shoulder unbelievably so. The sound immediately forces Steve’s hands to rest on top of yours, urging you to stop. He pulls them away, carefully watching your reaction to ensure you go through as little pain as possible while he takes over, sliding it up your torso. The wounds begin to show themselves the higher it rises.

With a tense jaw, Steve grimaces at the sight of your scratched skin, which had been left to rub against your clothes. He wishes there was more he could’ve done for you earlier. He wishes he could’ve taken as much care with your wounds as you did his. The raised marks appear agitated, fresher blood clotting in some areas; Steve stretches the shirt to move your left arm through easily, guiding it over your head so he can slide it off the other without hurting you. He doesn’t want to look at the worst part but it calls to him like the world’s cruelest temptation — the wound is finally exposed to the air as he discards the tank top somewhere behind him. 

Briefly, Steve pinches his eyes closed before forcing them back open; you hear him sigh dejectedly as his gaze lands on the bandage covering where the Demobat had burrowed into your skin. You’ve bled through it over the past day or so, leaving most of the fabric inked red. The only plus side to this is that the adhesive gives much faster when Steve takes a corner in between his fingers. The other hand is holding your hip steady as he peels it away, thumb brushing comfortingly until the bandage is removed; he places the soiled piece on top of his discarded in the sink. 

You haven’t realized how tightly you’ve been gripping the countertop until Steve pulls your hand away from the stone, lightly massaging your palm as he remains intently focused on the deep wound punctured into your skin. Then he finds his eyes roving over your back, eventually landing on the stained band of your bra, now splotched with red from your blood and gray from the parallel dimension. It used to be one of his favorites — he doesn’t know how many times he’s seen this one; the color flatters you so, but now he’s pretty certain he’ll never be able to look at it again. A part of him hopes you feel the same way and toss it out later. He’ll buy you a million more if you do. 

You silently turn in his hold and your gaze is already cast down to meet with his own injuries once more. You want to make it better right now, you don’t want to wait however long it’ll take for him to heal. Why is it seeing them right now that makes your throat ache so much?

You’ve collected your own reminders of what you’ve survived; you’ve learned to accept them as both a blessing and a curse. The thought of Steve looking over his body and seeing twisted skin left behind from one of these nightmares, and being reminded of what left them there, makes your heart crack. You know how painful it is to relive these traumatic moments from your life day after day. You hate the idea of him doing the same, especially when this time was significantly worse than the others. 

Now, you’ll have matching scars given to you by the same awful creatures. For the rest of your lives, they will remind you both of how neither of you could save each other from them.

Steve’s seen you go through this before — watched your body heal after one of these horrific moments in time. It’s incredibly difficult to know there’s nothing more you’re able to do except change the bindings and flush them with water. Twice he’s witnessed a traumatic event indent itself on your skin, as if it isn’t already wired deep into your brain, now unforgettable. 

He knows how terrible this feels, seeing what will be the first scars on his body. Now you’ve got yet another reminder torn into the fabric of your back — the back Steve has run his hands over more times than he can count. Nevermind that you’ve lost it yourself thrice now, you’re still mourning what he should be grieving: the normalcy of his own skin. 

Your face pinches, mind running over the events of the Upside Down, looking for a moment where something could’ve happened differently — a moment where you could’ve saved him from this. But every time, it happens the same way. 

It’s like he can sense everything you’re feeling, almost as if the uncertainty and sadness swirls in the air between you. Your fingers are lightly skimming over the skin of his stomach, absently lost in these terrible thoughts. You need to fix this. 

“Sweetheart,” Steve murmurs gently, his large hands covering yours as he pulls them away and coaxes you towards the shower. Stitches and gauze don’t matter until it’s clean.

“Shower first, yeah?” 

He doesn’t wait for your response, finally beginning to work off his cargo pants that feel a million times heavier than when he put them on in War Zone. Stripping off the final fabric from his body, Steve lets you follow suit, testing the temperature of the water with his hand. Just like the billows of steam that cling to every surface suggest, it’s grown hotter. He adjusts it slightly, the stream warm instead of scalding and he steps in, knowing you’ll be right behind.

The water cascades along his shoulders deliciously, each drop heating patches of skin he hasn’t realized were frigid until now. Steve was worried that the warmth would send him straight to sleep, so he’s relieved that some of his exhaustion washes down the drain as his body is soothed. It’s a deep breath he can finally take. 

Naturally, as you enter after him, Steve shifts back and ushers you under the stream; he’s desperate to let you get some reprieve from the aches of your body. His hands settle on your face, thumbs swiping away the grime and dirt as water spills down your skin. As softly as he can, Steve tilts your head to rinse your hair, his fingers massaging along your hairline for additional comfort.

The water that swirls around the drain starts to change color the longer you spend beneath the shower head; it shifts deep red, then pink, sometimes a brownish gray. Your wounds sting each time the water hits them, discomfort showing on your face with a quick squint of the eye, but it’s a pain you can bear — you’ve felt far worse. With hair now wet enough for his liking, Steve gently spins you with a hand on each arm, letting the stream hit your chest instead. He takes a red bottle from the small shelf and lathers a bit of your shampoo in his palms, the familiar scent mixing with the steam billowing around you. 

His fingers move expertly to work the suds through your wet strands, taking extra time to ensure the shampoo gets to your scalp. You’re practically putty in his hands, sighing lightly as Steve continues washing your hair, head falling backward in bliss from his touch. He’s washed your hair before, but never with this much care and dedication to a deep cleanse. A part of you wishes it didn’t take another encounter with the supernatural to experience it… or any of the significant moments in your relationship you’ve shared recently. 

As he finishes lathering your hair, Steve’s eyes drift to your neck — a bruise has begun to form against the smooth skin, wrapping the entire expanse of your throat in splotches of purple and deep red. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the sight of your face without all its warmth and life. His right hand rests at the base of your neck between your shoulder blades, his fingers gently caressing the injured flesh with a dark gaze, irises holding a restrained rage within.

A shiver — a direct contrast to the steam that envelops you — rolls down the length of your spine as Steve’s cheek brushes yours. His other hand splays out across the expanse of your stomach, keeping you still as his head ducks lower and settles in the crook between your throat and collarbone. Instinctively you lean into him, pressing your face to his hair as Steve stays here for a moment, gratefully taking in the feeling of you standing in front of him. It’s so featherlight that you almost miss it — a kiss pressed to the mark on your skin that he had left there, the only sign of his love on your body. He’s tempted to leave more, to outnumber the other bruises a million to one and make you understand just how thankful he is to have you here with him. 

It doesn’t take very long for you to spin in his hold, your hands seeking to find purchase on him wherever you can. You settle for sliding your fingers into Steve’s hair as his grip on you shifts, his rough palms slipping across your waist to keep you close. His forehead rests against your shoulder as you continue to wet the dark strands as best you can, intent on helping him unwind too. When it’s time to add some shampoo, you have to twist awkwardly to reach the bottles on the shelf. But before you get the chance to, a sound nearly drowned out by the rushing water catches your attention — a small sniffle.

Instantly you snap back to Steve, whose face you take between your wet hands. He doesn’t fight as you gently tilt his head up to see his eyes are rimmed with red. You swallow harshly. You can only imagine how surreal this must be for him; just a couple of hours ago, he was clutching your dying body in the same hands that caress you now. That’s a memory he’s not likely to forget, no matter how much longer he lives for. You hate he has to carry that.

You don’t have any words to comfort him and quite frankly, you’re not sure anything you say right now could be helpful. What he needs is just you — your presence, your touch, and your love. 

Your noses brush as you press your forehead to his and you shut your eyes, taking this quiet moment to do nothing but be present with him. He’s done the same for you so many times it’s hard to keep count. In the darkness, while both the water and Steve warm you from within, he shifts even closer. His lips find yours.

You’ll never grow tired of kisses like this — ones where there’s a swoop in your stomach and every emotion he’s feeling presses into your skin. Through both his hands and his kiss, you understand it all in an instant. The adoration is almost overwhelming, pouring over the edge until you are firm in your belief that it’ll never run out. But the ridiculous amount of affection for you is eclipsed by an unwavering fear. It’s louder than anything else, told by the way his fingers gently dig into the depressions of your ribcage and his lips, which cling to yours until the moment his oxygen runs out. 

Most people wouldn’t associate Steve with being afraid. They couldn’t be more wrong. Steve Harrington is terrified.

There’s a soft desperation that lingers, which you blindly follow into another kiss. Though diluted from the water that glides down your face, the familiar taste of tears hits your tongue; it takes a moment to realize they’re coming from you too. You’re not sure of the exact cause as a deep sadness takes root somewhere in your heart, too far to be inspected further but ever present. But upon understanding the depth of emotions Steve has felt recently, you realize it’s more grief. Grief that for a brief period of time, there was nowhere for his love to go.

It’s not right to say he deserves the world because that doesn’t seem like enough; there’s far more that you want to give him. You want to give him a gift as imperfectly beautiful and impractical as the moon, for someone who holds you this delicately should be rewarded. You’re drawn to him with your tides, even with shipwrecks and skeletons hidden in the darkest parts of your mind. He knows your deepest secrets and he’d still beg to reflect his love in your ocean, even if you’re clouded with storms or calm and clear. 

It’s all meaningless anyways. If you tried to hand him the moon, he’d shrug it off in an instant and give it to you instead. 

When you pull away, both the tears and water are streaming down your faces in a seemingly endless river. Steve feels like you’ve exchanged pieces of your souls. You place a final kiss on the corner of his mouth before you turn in his hold and reach for the shampoo. He presses his lips to your shoulder as you lather the suds in your palms.

This routine continues until you’ve both rinsed and scrubbed the other until all of the grime is washed down the drain. While your bodies may feel clean, your minds don’t have the same luxury. The pair of you retreat with the medical supplies to your room, where there’s no rush to care for your love properly. Steve’s thankful that patching you up goes significantly smoother than last time, even though he does have to stitch your wound closed. It’s rather nerve wracking work, but after a quick refresher from you, he completes it with more confidence. You place large bandages over the bites in his abdomen rather than a continuous piece of cloth so he can be more comfortable. Nearly an hour has passed by the time you’re finished.

—

Under normal circumstances, you’d prop the window open to let the spring breeze filter through the room and cool off your bodies from the warmth of the shower — you decide against it when your ears catch the endless echo of sirens from the town beyond. You should be out there helping, offering your assistance in any way you can to attempt to make up for what you’ve done, but that can wait. 

Steve desperately wants to hold you close, fully envelop you in his arms and pull you on top of him so he can feel your heartbeat thudding along with his own. He needs to feel every inch of your body against his — a reminder that you’re alive, laying here with him in the darkness of your bedroom. His wounds, on the other hand, have a different idea. 

With every movement, his stomach aches; pain shoots through his muscles and forces his face to pinch as he carefully crawls beneath the covers. Even through his pain, he shifts the blankets so you can slip in beside him. The cotton is cool against your skin; it’s the reprieve you’ve been craving ever since finding Eddie holed up in that boathouse last week — the relief of knowing it’s over, that you’ve survived, the same one you’ve felt four times now. 

Even so, it’s not the same. It’s not over. Vecna’s still out there somewhere. Hawkins has been destroyed. It’s only a matter of time before you’re called back into the fray; the pile of battle-worn gear in the corner says as much.

Steve’s mind is running through the same thoughts as he finally settles on his back, eyelashes fluttering closed when he stills. He’s overthinking, worrying obsessively about what’s going to come next and whether or not he has the strength to do this again.

The thoughts shift when your hand rests in the center of his torso, palm pressed over the dip in his ribs where his sternum ends. You crave the closeness too; you wish you could crawl into his arms and sleep forever in his embrace without a care in the world. As you press your forehead to the outside of his arm, Steve removes your hand to clutch it in his, your intertwined fingers now resting against him — his grip is firm and gentle.

As you two lay here, the time on your digital clock passing midnight, Steve finds himself reflecting on what’s to come, more specifically for the two of you.

If he’s honest, a lot of what he said is a complete blur. Only a few details come to mind if he thinks hard enough. What he does remember is that everything he said was the truth — he can feel it deep in his chest. He wouldn’t have lied to you about any of that, not that he’d ever lie to you about anything.

You said yes to it all, too. You said yes to the future, to the-

Oh god.

Suddenly, Steve wonders if you said yes to everything because… well, of course you did. You thought you were gonna die. It would’ve been pretty shitty to turn down something like that from the one you love before charging into battle. He may have accidentally chosen the worst time to spring all that on you.

It’s not that Steve doesn’t want that life with you anymore. On the contrary, he’s certain there will never be anyone else. But wanting to share your future is a big commitment, no matter how in love you are. You’re the one with some semblance of a plan for your life… is he intruding by asking for so much so soon?

Sometimes Steve forgets that he hasn’t known you his entire life. It often feels like he has. In reality, it’s only been a couple of years. You’ve been together for a shorter period of time than that.

His expression immediately creases in embarrassment. You seriously told your girlfriend of fifteen months that you want her to have your kids? 

“Y’know that uh… all that stuff I said? In the woods?”

You raise your head to rest on his pillow, intently studying the anxiety as it forms over his face. The streetlight outside your window lightly washes the pair of you in a yellow hue, even behind the drawn curtains.

You feel your face heat as you recall his beautiful words. You nod once, your damp hair mussing against the pillowcase, “Yeah. What about it?”

He steals a quick glance at you out of the corner of his eye; the thrum of his heartbeat increases in your intertwined hands.

“It’s okay if you… if that’s not what you really want. We thought we were gonna die, y’know, so if you agreed to everything back there and you didn’t really mean it, that’s fine. Okay? That’s perfectly fine because I still wanna live with you and I still love you a-”

“I did.”

While you could’ve let him ramble on and on until his brain was empty, you can’t listen to him doubt himself like this for much longer. Confusion shutters across his face with your interruption, his brow pinching as he turns his gaze back to you. He doesn’t have to speak for you to understand.

An easy smile pulls at your lips. You remove your hand from his and rest your palm on his cheek, your thumb lightly stroking his skin; his lashes flutter from the contact. His fingers curl around your forearm in response.

“I meant it. All of it, baby. I want that too, and I want it with you.”

To reinforce your words, you lower your head and press a kiss to the bare skin of his shoulder. When you pull away, a strange feeling spreads from the imprint of your lips. It travels down his arm and across his chest until his entire body is bathed in what can only be described as pure love, far stronger than anything he’s ever felt, including fear. As terrified as you make him, he loves you much more. Warm relief curls around his heart. You meant it.

He can’t stand it anymore.

“C’mere,” Steve mutters gently, sliding his palm down to your elbow. He lifts the arm trapped between you so you can scooch closer; he doesn’t particularly care about his wounds anymore, not when he needs your skin against him like he needs oxygen. He’s convinced your touch will heal him. With your hand secured against his ribs, you pull yourself flush against him and tuck the other beneath the pillow. Once you’re settled, Steve winds his arm around your waist to avoid your own injuries. It’s awfully snug, but exactly what you’ve been craving.

You think you could gaze into his eyes forever — endless galaxies of rich browns and flecks of amber stars with a black hole right in the center. A pocket of space only meant for you, until the end of time.

Steve smiles as he tucks his hand beneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers tracing aimless lines along your hip. He’ll never quite understand how a young boy’s disappearance brought him the love of his life, the future mother of his children, his soulmate — he decides not to question it too much. His life would be so ridiculously boring without you.

His voice is sincere, “You’re my best friend.”

“Well I hope so,” You tease, somehow scooting even closer to him, “You never stopped being mine.”

Steve’s heart swells tremendously. Beneath all the endearment and fondness, you’re still those two lonely idiots who found a friend in the most unlikely of places. Although he never wants to lose your love, losing the innocent friendship that first tied you together would be catastrophic. Before he gets a chance to come up with any sort of equally gooey reply, your eyes are widening slightly — like something’s just dawned on you.

“Wait, does this mean we’re… like… married now?”

The idea of getting to call you his wife makes his head go fuzzy. As much as he’d love to, that does seem like too much too soon. Last week you were planning on moving in together and now there’s talk of marriage and children and the rest of your lives. He’s got you, he knows that now. You’re not going anywhere. He can wait a bit longer.

“Hm…” Steve briefly turns his gaze to the ceiling, the hum in his throat playful as he acts like he’s deciding, “Not yet. Think I still wanna ask you properly.”

A bit of relief leaves you in the form of a scoff — a small taunt that humors his banter, “You gonna get me a ring, Harrington?”

Gingerly, Steve takes your right hand from its place on his chest and holds it out in front of him, carefully twisting your wrist to get a better look. A few seconds of silence pass.

“Steve?”

“Hold on. I’m picturing it.”

You have to hold back a chuckle; you don’t have the heart to joke about it being the wrong hand. Instead, you join him in the endeavor. A delicate silver band molds to the column of your ring finger. It’s nothing fancy — no gems or diamonds perched on the metal but it’d still be yours. Steve grins stupidly as he imagines the feeling of the silver, cool to the touch, pressing into his skin. 

He guides your hand to his lips, where he presses a kiss onto the place a ring would sit between your knuckles: a promise. He rests your clasped hands back onto his chest, “I think a ring sounds nice.”

You smile just as sweetly, knowing that there’s no reason for something material to signify your love. Steve could ask you to marry him while tangled together on the couch and you’d be just as eager. But for all the chaos you’ve experienced, a slice of normalcy and a traditional proposal doesn’t sound so bad.

“I think so too,” You mumble as you tuck your face into the bend of his neck, your warm exhale fanning out over his skin. Steve welcomes the feeling and rests his cheek against your hair, his arm tightening around you.

Marriage… god that’s a heavy word. The more you think about it, the more you realize how you barely understand the definition. Nothing positive comes to mind, only failure and unhappiness with a side of regret. You don’t know how anyone could regret love. You’ve found someone who’s willing to learn and adapt with you, who will stick beside you even on your darkest days, who will dish out extra affection on the days where you don’t feel like you deserve it. You’ve been very lucky; perhaps it’s the universe apologizing for all the hardship and scars. It sent you someone with hundreds of constellations across his skin and a golden touch to comfort you in times of great stress.

Steve doesn’t have experience with loving marriage either, yet he’s still willing to jump off this cliff with you. 

“We won’t be like them.”

Filled with so much mistrust and contempt it’s hard to imagine there was once kindness for the other. Desperate enough to have a son in the hopes he’d fix everything that went wrong. No, it doesn’t take much to understand you and Steve will change the Harrington name into something synonymous with compassion and love. The massive difference between you and his parents is your desire.

You want a family. You want a home. Your children won't be brought into this world for any other reason than to be an extension of your love. They’ll be cared for and comforted, celebrated and cheered on. You’ll take pride in the mundane that his parents found so disinteresting. You’ll have the weekly movie nights and sit on the bleachers at their sports games. You’ll hang their art projects on the fridge and make their stuffed animals have silly voices. You and Steve will show your children the best parts of yourselves and hope they become even better. 

Steve didn’t realize becoming like his parents was something he was concerned about until you said it. It’s a fear that’s quickly squashed. Instead, he worries about what reassurance you might need.

“I won’t leave you.”

Out of everything Steve’s said over the past few hours, he means this the most. Sure, he can’t promise there won’t be bad times or stressful situations that cause an argument or two. He can’t promise there won’t be mistakes made or conflicting ideas. He can’t promise that this addicting feeling of young love will last forever. One thing, however, that he can promise is that he’ll be true to you. He can’t imagine a day where he could meet someone better for him. The thought of having to explain what he’s experienced to someone else makes him want to break out in hives — rather than you, who can see a blank stare or a balled up fist and just know, no explanation required. Taking care of Steve is second nature; he hopes you understand he feels the same for you.

He thinks you might assume this is in reference to your own parents, which he supposes is true as well. He’d never force you to raise your children alone just because he got bored, which he can’t picture either. How could he ever grow tired of the Harrington/Henderson kids? They’re almost guaranteed to be the craziest, most adorable little rascals the world has ever seen. But he wants that life, which he hopes is a comfort in itself.

No, Steve will never leave you. He doesn’t think he could, if he’s honest. Even if you were to grow to hate him through years of marriage and parenting, he’d never initiate anything that could take you from him. How could he? You’re the first person that’s ever loved him. He’ll never give that up willingly, no matter how stupid that may sound.

When you shift your head back, Steve does the same — he can’t stand the thought of going another moment without sealing your soft words in a proper kiss. The only word that comes to mind as you slot your lips against his is safety; he’s never felt as safe and secure as he does right now, receiving your love and cradling you in his arms. You’re going to take care of each other. 

The passion builds as you sigh against him, suddenly feeling a bit too warm for your skin when his palm curls up around your jaw to keep you near. Although the press of his mouth is gentle, he is fierce in his intent. 

“I love you,” Steve whispers against you, pausing for a moment as he allows himself to bask in this wonderful feeling. It continues to grow as you deliver a light peck to his lips; he opens his eyes to peer into yours, a bit dazed by everything. Your response is simple.

“I love you too.”

Steve would kiss you again if you two didn’t burst into a pair of brilliant smiles, like pure happiness emanating from within. He pulls back slightly to get a proper look at you — a smile that he hopes he’ll see in more than one face. 

“I think our first is gonna be a girl.”

You scoff, your voice switching into something playfully stern, “Steve. You don’t know that.”

“Well I do!” He pouts, almost offended that you would doubt him on a matter as serious as this. As his focus returns to your ceiling, his hand moves from your cheek to wave through the air in front of him, “Just call it… father’s intuition, okay? It’ll be a girl.”

Another noise reminiscent of a laugh is pulled from your throat at his insistence. You’d be lying if you didn’t find him insanely endearing — talking about your children like they’re already here. Your heart flutters as the image of Steve doting on a baby girl materializes inside your brain. 

You shuffle down the bed a bit to rest your head on his shoulder, “Alright then. What do we name her?”

Steve hums curiously. He hasn’t thought about that part yet. Although it doesn’t have to, he feels like her name should have meaning. Something important to the both of you, something that signifies a fresh start.

He inhales as it comes to him — a name he’s been repeating to himself over and over again, accompanied by a handful of numbers.

“Marcie’s a cute name, don’t you think?”

Tears nearly pool at your lash line with his admission. The street name for your little apartment in Chicago. Steve would want to name your daughter after the first symbol of your future together. Your smile returns, but far more sentimental than it was before.

“I like that a lot,” You confirm, tilting your head up to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. As you do, another idea forms, this one far more upsetting than the other.

“That or… or Max, maybe.”

Steve sighs, closing his eyes at your suggestion. His free hand runs across his brow in an exasperated motion — not at you, but at the outside world he was having a blissful time ignoring. He eventually nods, exhaling once again, “Yeah. That’s a good option too.”

He hates how quickly sadness crawls between you; he can feel you retreating into yourself and away from him, your arm curling back near your body rather than draped out across his chest. While he knows addressing the trauma you both experienced is important, right now doesn’t seem like the best time. Not while all the wounds are still fresh.

“Y’know we don’t have to worry about a name right now,” He mumbles, leaning down to press a kiss into your hair, “We don’t even have a kid yet.”

A small smirk pulls at his lips, “And I don’t know if you’re aware of this Henderson, but I heard that making the baby’s supposed to be the best part.”

His plan works; you let out a chuckle against his skin, “Did you really?”

Steve grins at your playful tone, his hand beneath your shirt shifting tantalizingly higher. He relishes the smattering of goosebumps that he leaves behind and he leans down to nuzzle his nose along your hairline. He hums in response and uses that familiarly flirtatious lilt in his voice that you have a hard time refusing, where you feel desired by him.

“Too bad that’s years away, hm?”

Damn him for being so good at distracting you. You shift against him once more, hooking your leg around his hips, “That’s alright. Gives us plenty of time to practice.”

Your answer earns you a genuine laugh and another kiss to your head.

—

Determined to keep your mind from wandering too far, Steve ends up reciting all the movies available to rent at Family Video, in alphabetical order no less. It’s another one of those stupid skills he’s learned through his tenure there, as well as how to change receipt paper in under five seconds (yes, he and Robin had a competition to see who could do it faster and no, Keith did not think it was very funny). But it ends up working wonders for you, and you make mental notes of those that sound interesting enough to watch for yourselves. As he starts the N’s — “Nighthawks… Nightmare on Elm Street” — Steve recognizes the slowing tempo of your breath and realizes that you’ve drifted off.

Your head’s tilted back now. You had been watching him adoringly as he rambled, giving him an unrestricted view of your sleeping face. For a moment, an emptiness fills his chest. Although he can feel the rise and fall of your torso, you look awfully similar to how you did as you were losing consciousness, also while in his arms. Briefly, he feels a wash of cold come over him at the memory and the tips of his fingers prickle, almost like they’re going numb. Then, he decides to match his breathing with yours; your deep exhales in time with his keep him from completely succumbing to the anxiety. You’re still here with him. There’s nothing to be afraid of right now. Maybe tomorrow, but not right now.

He’s not sure how long you’re out for, but it couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes. Although your body’s grown more tired, you can’t help but feel like you’re being watched, even while lost to a world of dreams. Adorably, you open one of your eyes.

“You staring at me?”

It’s more of a rhetorical question, because it’s incredibly obvious that Steve is. It’s crazy how comforted he is upon the sight of your irises peering back at him. He doesn’t even try to deny it.

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

Your mouth begins curling into a small smile. Steve jokingly rolls his eyes, “Don’t sa-”

“That’s dangerous.”

He scowls and shakes his head as best he can. Steve leans forward to press his lips to your cheek, leaving quite a few kisses indented onto your skin. Your nose scrunches up at the feeling and a tiny giggle escapes when he doesn’t relent, propping himself up above you so he can continue his attack all across your face.

Although you had expected more sleep to come tonight, it’s hard to complain when it’s replaced by a golden haze, as if both of you were dipped in pure honey; it’s all slow and soft movements and even sweeter words to keep you stuck together. It’s nothing and everything all at the same time.

“Steve.”

“I’m not done,” He whines as he peppers what feels like another one hundred kisses onto every square inch of your forehead and along the bridge of your nose. A chaste peck to your lips seems to satisfy him.

Suddenly, his expression shifts to something far more stoic; that crease in his brow begins to make a reappearance, as well as the firm clench of his jaw. His eyes go sad, almost like he’s looking through you instead. When your hand rises to caress his face, Steve cracks.

“I’ve never been so scared.”

Creel House — you know it instantly. You can hear it in the tremble of his voice. You did this to him. You gave him the most traumatic moment of his life.

“M’sorry I scared you,” You mumble, gently running the back of your index finger along his cheek, “I can’t… can’t even imagine…”

You get choked up thinking about if the roles were reversed, if you had been clutching Steve’s dying body in your arms. It’s possible you would have been too frozen to do anything other than sob, just wail into his chest as he slipped away from you.

You tut softly, remembering that the stubbornness of the man above you is the only reason you’re still here. His love for you saved your life.

“You’re so strong, Steve.”

It takes every ounce of self control he has not to break. He’s not sure anyone’s ever said that to him before. He shakes his head, biting down on his bottom lip as he wills the tears away. He swallows harshly when your eyes grow watery.

“I’m not. Thought I was dying too. Would’ve torn out my own heart right there and given it to you.”

His brow furrows, “That’s a… little bit dramatic maybe but… you know what I mean. You always do.”

As his left hand rises to cradle the top of your head, you allow the hint of a smile to grace your features, “I like when you’re dramatic.”

Steve smiles too.

“It’s not your fault, baby,” He answers lightly, wishing to absolve you of any guilt you might harbor over this, “Just glad you’re with me now. That’s all that matters. Never letting you go.”

As you melt over his words, you notice the exhaustion is starting to make a home in him. You know Steve takes the role of your protector very seriously, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t get time to recharge. He’d argue you deserve all the sleep you can get, so it’s only fair he gets some too, especially as your body grows sore with every passing minute.

“You can get some rest too, Stevie,” You card your hand through his half-dried hair, pushing his natural waves back from his drooping and tired eyes, “My love.”

“My love,” He laughs lightly, his voice a bit teasing, “That’s a new one.”

“What, you don’t like it?”

“Actually, I love it,” Steve replies. His voice is as sincere as his touch, which shifts away from your hair. Beginning at the divot below your cheekbone, he traces the back of his index finger along the line of your jaw. His thumb lightly skims your bottom lip when he reaches your chin — caramel eyes study the path along your skin, like a golden line has been tattooed into your skin.

“My love.”

After a kiss to your forehead, Steve shuffles beneath the blankets to drape himself over you, almost like you’ve swapped places. His legs tangle with yours as he tucks his head into the bend of your neck, while one of your hands cups the back of his and your fingers drift into his hair. He sighs happily when he throws his arm across your chest and finally relaxes against you. 

Although his body is tired beyond all reason, his thoughts are running over themselves endlessly. He raises his head to sleepily peer at you, blinking slowly.

“Do you have any of your books here?”

You nod against the pillow, “Yeah, why?”

His hesitation is spoken in the silence that follows. He licks his lips nervously, “Can you…”

You nod again when he doesn’t finish, “I can read something to you, yeah. Of course.”

With a comforting kiss placed to his forehead this time, you reach over to your nightstand, careful not to anger any of your wounds. You stumble upon one of the old blue-spined Hardy Boys mysteries you’ve had since your childhood; it might not be as sophisticated as some of the other books you’ve read, but this has always remained one of your favorites.

You both fall asleep shortly after you start the third chapter — the book is slung across his back when you doze off. Steve snores lightly against you. Rest has finally found you both.

—

[stevesgother]

Chalkboard Hearts - S.H

Pairing - KindergartenTeacher!Steve Harrington x Fem!Mom!Reader

WC - 4.3k

Contains - strangers to friends to lovers, slowburn, so much fluff, teacher!steve and mom!reader. No descriptions are given of reader or abbey, other than that abbey has curly hair, steve and reader are the same age (about 24-25), set early-mid 90's

AN - i don’t write for kids often so i hope this reads well and is realistic. i don’t have a clear end for this series in mind, so i’m gonna keep writing it for as long as y’all want it :) feel free to send requests for blurbs for this AU if you so wish and as always, thank you - emma

“Moooooom,”

You hear a tiny voice whisper in your ear. Most mornings started this way, if not all of them. Whoever said getting children out of bed in the morning was difficult had clearly never met Abbey. Every day you peeled your tired eyes open to see the miniature version of them staring back at you, the only difference being they were much wider, and lacking the distinct fog of leftover sleep.

Today her hair was sticking up in all different directions; frizzy curls here and tangled knots there. Your daughter takes after you in many ways, one being that she’s an active sleeper and it shows when she wakes up. Her bed was always disheveled; embroidered blankets strewn across her bedroom floor and little red lines indented in her cheeks where they had been smushed against her pillow.

“Mornin’ Ab,” you say, voice gravelly with disuse. “Have you made your bed yet?” you eye her suspiciously.

You know she hasn’t and she confirms as much when she spins on her heel and dashes for her room down the hall. Truthfully, you couldn’t care less if her bed was made or not, it was merely a guise to buy you a few extra minutes of peace and quiet each morning.

︵୨୧︵

When she doesn’t reappear, you assume she’s gotten distracted and decide to make your way downstairs to scrounge for something to eat. You never ate breakfast before you had Abbey; either for lack of time or because the smell of food so early in the morning made you nauseous. Eating three meals a day was just one bullet point on the long, running list of changes in your routine since becoming a mother.

Two bowls of Frosted Flakes were set out on the table after deciding there was no time for anything more nutritious.

“Abbey!” You call, “Breakfast!” 

You hear the sounds of sniffling and small feet padding on hardwood as she enters the kitchen– pouting. You try not to gape at the utter monstrosity of an outfit she's put on. She whines, “I don’t know what I want to wear!”

You sense a meltdown coming already, on today of all days. Pre-school was easy, as Abbey was a fairly agreeable kid. Or at least she used to be. Lately it felt like you had to battle her about anything and everything. 

“You look so beautiful, Ab!” you reassure her, attempting to deescalate the impending tantrum. She has on pink corduroy pants and a frilly forest green blouse. For accessories she’s sporting a chunky plastic necklace that definitely came with a dress-up kit, along with a tutu. You have no idea where the tutu came from.

Eventually she decides not to fight you, at least not on her outfit. However, as she climbs into the kitchen chair, she scowls down at the soggy cereal in front of her and asks in the most darling tone she can muster,

“Can I have Scooby fruit snacks instead?”

“How about I pack some in your lunchbox today and you can eat them at snack time?” you try to barter.

Sneaking a glance at the clock, it mocks you with its unforgiving hands– you’re going to be late and your daughter will have skipped supposedly the most important meal of the day. Some mother you are.

“But I want them right now!” Her petite fists bang against the wooden table and she’s a heap of dramatics wriggling in her chair.

“Hey, what did we talk about? Yelling is not nice, even when we’re frustrated. Right?” She acknowledges you with a teary nod along with more crying and petulant moaning that can be heard as you run to the bathroom and grab a hairbrush with two bows. When you return, she’s still moping over her breakfast, but taking bites nonetheless. A win is a win.

You begin detangling the mess of knots and snarls at the back of her head. “Ouch, Mommy!” she cries when you try to comb through a particularly tangled section.

You place one of your hands over the crown of her head like a claw in a poor attempt at keeping her from squirming, “The more you move the longer it takes, sweetheart,” 

“Hmph.” she pouts, folding her arms over her chest. When all is said and done, your daughter has her hair parted and tied into two high pigtails, secured with little pink bows, and you’re rushing her out of the front door with haste.

︵୨୧︵

In all the hubbub, you realize you’ve barely gotten yourself ready. Reaching over to buckle Abbey into her carseat, she asks,

“When can I sit up front with you?”

“When you’re this many,” You hold out both your hands to display all ten fingers.

She mimics you with her own smaller fingers, “Ten?”

“That’s right!” You smack a kiss on the crown of her head as you pull back, she smells like her strawberry scented shampoo.

“Watch your feetsies,” you warn and she tucks her legs unnecessarily far into her chest as you close the door. 

The ride is filled with the usual nonsensical ramblings of a five-year-old. She beams back at you through the rearview mirror, eyes sparkling and nodding fervently when you ask if she’s excited to make some new friends today. Your social butterfly, the complete antithesis of you. 

The elementary school is only a few miles from your home, and before you know it you’re circling a crowded parking lot and preparing to drop your only child off for her first day of kindergarten. The rush of emotions you feel are indecipherable, something like a mix of somberness, excitement, relief, and anxiety.

As you walk towards the front of the building, you’re surrounded by dozens of kids aged five through twelve greeting their teachers and saying ‘Hello’ to friends they haven’t seen all summer. The teachers are holding laminated signs that indicate their name and what grade they teach; thank God for that. Abbey’s little fist squeezes around your index finger and you can tell she’s becoming nervous, despite her previous unbridled anticipation.

“Hey, it’s okay,” You assure, “Look, I think that’s your teacher right there,” you point towards a tall, brunette man standing near the double doors.

A shy smile tugs at the corners of her lips when she sees the teacher in question. He’s dressed in a striped button-down shirt and khakis, with a lanyard dangling from his front pocket; the typical teacher attire.The sign he’s holding reads, ‘Mr. Harrington’ and just below that, ‘Kindergarten’ with a little cartoon apple printed next to his name. He looks young compared to the rest of the staff, closer to your own age. This must be his first year teaching.

As you approach him, Abbey treks in front, eager to meet him. Her backpack is adorned with sparkly butterflies and it covers nearly her entire torso; bumping the backs of her knees with every step she takes.

The man crouches down to her level and greets her, “Hey there,” he offers a warm smile, “what’s your name?”

“Abbey,” she says timidly, twiddling her fingers and flashing a toothy grin at him. She doesn’t bother with her last name, honestly you’re not positive that she even knows it.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Abbey,” he holds a gentle hand out for her to shake and she does so hesitantly, “My name’s Mr. Harrington, and I’m going to be your teacher this year. How does that sound?” The way he’s so patient and attentive with her stirs something within you that you haven’t felt in years, but he’s a teacher, for goodness sake. He looks up then, locking eyes with you and rising back to his full height.

This time, it’s your turn to shake his hand. “I’m Steve.”  He flashes you a smile directly out of a Colgate ad and you hope you’re not blushing as much as you feel like you are.

You must look nervous because he immediately assures you that Abbey’s in good hands this year. “We’re having an open house tonight, I hope to see you both there,”

You glance at your daughter, “What’d you think, Ab? That sound fun?”

“Yes!” She squeals and almost falls over from the weight of her backpack.

“Okay then,” With that, you crouch down to give Abbey one final hug. It’s clear that she’s itching to go socialize with the other kids, so you try not to delay her with your sappiness.

“Be good today, okay?” you give her a tight squeeze and a smacking kiss on her little cheek, “I’ll be back to get you at two-forty-five.”

“What will the clock say?” She asks inquisitively. Her favorite question.

“It’ll say ‘two-four-five’,” She nods in understanding, “But I bet you’ll be having so much fun that you won’t even remember to look.”

She’s already on her way to the door when she calls, “Love you, mommy!” and blows you a kiss with her lips puckered. You blow her one back and fight the tears threatening to surface. When did she get so big?

A pang of insecurity settles in your chest when you chance a look around and see all the children accompanied by two parents. You begin the walk back to your sedan before the thought has a chance to fester.

︵୨୧︵

Six hours goes by alarmingly fast when it’s spent running around your house in a frenzy, trying to catch up on all the cleaning you aren’t able to do when there’s a rampant five-year-old on the loose, making a brand new mess where you just cleaned an old one.

Before you can even register the time has passed, it's two o’clock and you need to pick Abbey up in a mere forty five minutes. Looking around your house, you feel satisfied with the progress you were able to make on tidying and call it a day.

This time, you decide to try and appear more presentable before visiting the school, and firmly remind yourself that it has nothing to do with how flustered your daughter’s kindergarten teacher makes you. By the time you’re dressed and have pulled your hair up into a halfway decent top knot; it’s time to go.

︵୨୧︵

The line for pickup wraps around the front of the building, aided by crossing guards and supervised by a few teachers. Twenty minutes into waiting, you regret not having gotten here a little sooner. ‘Tomorrow’ you think. Soon, you catch sight of two little pigtails bobbing up and down as your Abbey skips over to you, grinning ear to ear while Steve watches from the doors she just exited.

“Mommy!” she shouts as she bounds towards you. You place the car in park and run around to greet her.

“Hi, Bug!” you exclaim as you bend at the waist to pick her up. She gives you a tight squeeze around the neck, and you catch a split second of Steve’s gaze over her shoulder before he’s disappearing back inside the school

Plopping her as gently as possible into her carseat and fastening the straps over her chest, her mouth is already moving a mile a minute– absolutely ecstatic to tell you all about the activities she got up to while you were gone.

“What is ‘open house’ ?” she asks, kicking her feet like she can’t possibly contain all the excitement inside her little body.

“It’s just a chance for all the mommies and daddies to meet your teachers,” you explain, “And you get to show me around your new school, fun right?”

Her face lights up like a christmas tree at the prospect, “Are we gonna go?!”

“Yes, but first we have to eat dinner. What sounds good?”

Without missing a beat, she yells a little too loudly, “McDonalds!”

You want to say yes, of course you do, but your shifts at the ER barely cover the minimum of your living expenses. Your resolve begins to crumble, however, when she looks at you with those saucer-round eyes, and her bottom lip juts out in the most precious pout. Who knew she could be so harmlessly manipulative?

“I don’t know, Ab. I think we have some chicken nuggets in the freezer at home, though,” you say, with an air of hopefulness that she might accept the compromise.

“Not the same,” she whines, “Please, Mommy! I’ll be extra extra good please–”

And with that, it’s over.

“Okay! Okay, fine,” you feign annoyance through a smile, “We’ll stop on the way home,”

You can still hear her squeals of excitement when you close the door and walk around to the driver's seat.

︵୨୧︵

Abbey dresses a little more cohesively for the open house than she did this morning. This time she’s clad in a thrifted pair of overalls overtop a little purple blouse. She leads you, hand in hand, inside the school like she knows exactly where she’s going– despite only having spent six hours here.

Steve’s classroom looks exactly how you’d expect. The walls are a light, mint green and it’s as if a character from Sesame Street threw up all over it. Abbey leads you to a reading nook in the corner of the room, surrounded by books and complete with several bean bag chairs, and proclaims this is her favorite spot. She shows you where her desk is– right in the very front of the classroom– and on it, a laminated sticker with her first and last name sits neatly near the top. The walls are lined with colorful letters in alphabetical order, accompanied with numbers just underneath them.

“Abbey!” you hear a familiar voice call, “I’m glad you and your mom could make it!” turning to you then, “I’m actually not sure I ever caught your name,” he chuckles awkwardly, clearly embarrassed by the fact that he doesn’t know it yet.

“Oh, it’s–” and before you get the chance to tell him, Abbey pipes up and tells him your first and last name with a confidence that she certainly didn’t have when it came to her own introduction this morning. You’re relieved that she feels so comfortable around him already.

He repeats your name back to you and holds out his hand for you to shake, “It’s nice to meet you,” You pay no mind to the way your heart beats a little faster in its cage at the sound of your name on his lips. His palm is surprisingly soft when you grasp it in your own.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” you grant him a polite smile, “Abbey could not stop talking about you on the way home,” you pinch her side, teasing, and she giggles in that contagious way that kids do.

“Is that so?” he feigns surprise when he looks at her.

“Nooo!” her giggles amplify as she becomes increasingly bashful.

He crouches down to meet her at eye-level, exactly like he did this morning, “Well, that’s a shame, because I think you might be one of my favorite students,”

Now, she’s a heap of laughter and has a blush spreading from the apple of her cheeks to the tips of her ears. You can’t help but feel enamored by how great he is with children, silently wondering if he comes from a big family, or if he has a child of his own.

“Did you introduce your mom to Nibbles?” he asks her when her laughing mostly subsides.

She gasps like she can’t believe she would’ve forgotten such a thing, then she hauls you by the arm over to a tiny cage on a table, presumably for an even tinier animal.

“Mommy, look! This is Nibbles,” She’s peering between the metal bars of the enclosure and encouraging you to do the same, when you lean in closer you see a small, tan gerbil sleeping in a little nest of bedding.

“He’s our friend and he helps us learn, so we have to be very careful with him,” she tells you with a sudden seriousness that's amusing to see displayed on such a young face. It’s obvious she’s parroting Steve.

You turn to see Steve observing from a few feet behind you, both hands shoved in his pockets, “I didn’t think teachers actually had class pets,” you breathe a huff of laughter.

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckles with you, “I brought him from home, actually. Figured he could use some socialization. With dozens of children.” he informs you sarcastically. God, he’s funny too.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you to be a hamster guy,” you tease.

“He’s a gerbil, first of all,”

“Right, sorry, my bad,” you smirk.

“No time for a dog, I guess,” he shrugs, “thought I could use the company,” he’s clearly still bantering, but there’s an underlying melancholy in his tone that you can’t quite place. Before you can think about it for longer than a second, an impatient five-year-old is tugging on your arm and begging to show you the library.

“Okay, alright,” you laugh, “better get to it, the library awaits,” you shoot him an apologetic look for having cut the conversation short. You feel less guilty, however, when you see more parents and children start to funnel into the classroom, busying him in yours and Abbey’s absence.

“See ya, “ he waves. 

“Bye, Mr. Harrington!” Abbey yells, already halfway down the hall. 

︵୨୧︵

In the library you have to shush Abbey several times, much to her dismay.

“We use our inside voices in the library, Ab,” you remind her for the fifth time. She frowns but it’s temporary when she spots her favorite section: the picture books. Abbey is ahead of a kindergarten reading level now, and it's one of her favorite hobbies, but you can still never go wrong with a good picture book.

You’re about to follow her when you hear someone call your name. 

You turn, “Stephanie?” you ask, puzzled.

“Oh my gosh! It’s been forever!” an old friend from your shared high school, Stephanie, pulls you into an unreciprocated bear hug. Squeezing and swaying back and forth for an awkward amount of time.

“Hey,” you draw out the last syllable and try to paint your voice with a nostalgic excitement, “How have you been?” you ask, even though you’re sure you’d rather be shot than continue this conversation.

You don’t know if you could really call Stephanie a ‘friend’, or if you ever could. The only reason she even knew your name being the shared, piranha-esq social circle you both ran in years ago. She reminded you of your past– who you used to be– someone who you’re not particularly proud of.

“Oh, I've been just fine!” She gestures wildly with manicured nails. Her lips are overlined and her hair is still damaged from bleaching and too many perms. Evidently, not a lot has changed. You ponder if she’s still the mean girl she always was underneath all that makeup, or if at some point in your adolescence she decided to mature.

“Todd and I just bought a house over on Maplewood, are you familiar?”

“Oh, no, not really– my daughter and I live across town,” You don’t like how ashamed you feel, “I’ve heard it’s beautiful over there, though,” you attempt to smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“That was your daughter?” She’s trying not to sound taken aback and failing, “With–?”

“Yes,” Your teeth grit ever so slightly. You hate that she won’t say his name, as if speaking it into existence would somehow break you. Like you’re fragile.

“I was terribly sorry to hear about what happened, Hon,” Her sudden sympathetic tone irritates you, whether it’s genuine or not. You don’t need pity, especially not from Stephanie Nettles.

“It’s okay, Steph, really,” losing patience by the second, nothing about it was okay. “It was a long time ago, Abbey and I are doing fine,” you assure her.

“Oh,” she fawns as she presses her bony hands against her chest above her heart, “Can I meet her? Would you mind?" Her tone is saccharine sweet. You figure it can’t hurt, but when you turn around to retrieve Abbey, she’s not where you left her. The spot on the rug that she was previously occupying is empty and her book is abandoned on the floor.

“Abbey?!” Calling a little too loudly for the setting you’re in but you can’t bring yourself to care. You search row after row, it’s not a big library, and after every shelf you’re expecting her to be there– browsing novels and you’ll feel silly for overreacting.

But that doesn’t happen, and you realize with mild panic that she definitely left the library; somehow without you noticing. You suppose this is the safest place for her to go missing, but the thought doesn’t soothe you for long as you still have no idea where your daughter could be.

Stephanie is staring at you with concern, but still making no effort to help you locate Abbey. You don’t speak and neither does she as you rush out of the room and begin to pace the halls, still calling out for her. You check the bathrooms by the gym, a couple of empty classrooms that aren’t locked– she’s not there either.

When you’ve checked every available room and potential hiding spot in the near vicinity and still see no trace of her, that’s when the real dread sets in. What if she’d wandered outside and been taken? Or worse, there had been an accident and she’s hurt? She could be miles from here by now, she could be–

“I think this might belong to you,” a mellow voice rings out.

Steve and Abbey walk leisurely towards you, hand in hand. A complete contrast to the frazzled mess of anxiety you are right now. You hurl yourself in their direction and wrap Abbey up in a hug, lifting her off her feet.

“Oh my God, Abbey,” normally you’d be fuming at her for wandering off like that when you know that she knows better, but you can’t feel anything other than relief in the moment.

“Found her on the swings,” Steve continues, “Isn’t that right?”

Your relief does eventually morph to frustration, “You know better, Abbey Jane. Don’t stray off like that again. Do you understand?”

She succumbs to her guilt and you can tell her short-lived freedom has lost its novelty. “I’m sorry, mommy,” her little eyes well with tears. “The other kids were going to the swings, I wanted to go,” she pouts.

“We could’ve gone, baby, but you have to ask first, okay?”

Her meek response is muffled in the crook of your neck, “Okay,”

She’s still sniffling into your shoulder when you remember Steve is there, and your surroundings come back into focus.

“Thank you for finding her, Steve–”

“--His name is Mr. Harrington, mom,” she corrects like she can’t believe you’d embarrass her like that by calling her teacher the wrong name.

“--Mr. Harrington,” you stifle a laugh for your daughter's sake, sending him a knowing look.

He returns the expression, “Anytime,” he smiles, sweet . “Think that's enough scaring your mom for today, huh?”

Instead of acknowledging with words, she simply nods her head, eyes glued to the floor, ashamed.

“I think someones getting sleepy, might be time to head home,” you drag a gentle hand down her back soothingly.

“Will you carry me?” she asks too adorably to say no, despite her being ever-so-slightly too big for it. Grunting as you pick her up, you say, “Thanks, again,”

“No need,” he ruffles Abbey’s head lightly as you pass, “See you tomorrow, right?”

“See you,” her eyelids are heavy already. You make your way back to the car slowly but surely, arms growing more numb with every step.

︵୨୧︵

Abbey manages to bargain a bath out of you and four books before bedtime instead of the usual two. How you ever say no to her, you’re not sure. By the time you finally tuck her in, it's well past nine o’clock.

“Did you have a good day today?” You ask as you bend down to kiss her forehead.

“Yes, Mr. Harrington is my favorite teacher,” she proclaims drowsily.

“He’s your only teacher, Ab,” You snicker.

“But he’s still my favorite,” she replies in the same cadence one would say ‘Duh’.

“Well, I guess you’ll have to go to sleep super fast tonight so you can see him sooner, right?”

You can practically see the lightbulb turn on above her head like she’s just had a groundbreaking revelation and nods fervently. You tuck her in tight on both sides, and give her a kiss on each of her cheeks and once more to her forehead for good measure.

“Love you, Abbey girl,” you tell her on your way out, “Goodnight,”

“Goodnight, mommy,” she says wearily from underneath her princess bedsheets.

The door closes with a soft click and you make your way to the living room. You never had the chance to ask Stephanie what she was doing at the school– from what you knew, she didn’t have any children. Perhaps she was a teacher. It didn’t matter as long as you didn’t have to interact with her again.

As you lounged on your old sectional, you couldn't help your mind wandering back to thoughts of Steve. You wanted to know more about him. Where he came from, what made him want to work with kids, why he needed a gerbil to keep him company. Distantly, you imagined what he was like outside of an elementary school setting. You hoped one day you’d find out.

He was Abbey’s teacher, sure, but what was the harm in a little crush?

taglist - @soulxiez

divider credit to @/strangergraphics

[stevie-petey]

episode seven: the massacre at hawkins lab

Steve coughs, swatting at the particles in the air. “Just inhaled a bunch of that crap.” “I’ve been trying not to think about how much of the Upside Down we’ve ingested since being here.” “It’s stuck in my throat, Y/N.” “Again, I’m trying not to think about that.

Summary: bats are really fucking annoying to fight, you always somehow end up critically injured, nancy carries the group on her back as always, eddie gives steve relationship advice (embarassing, tbh), interdimensional bike riding is lowkey fun, and you take a trip down memory lane.

Rating: general, some swearing, violence

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, cursing, blood and gore, critical injuries, mentions of fainting, mentions of death and violence, description of corpses

Words: 11.9k

Before you swing in: ive never been more excited to write a chapter tbh. this episode touches on so many things ive been building up for seasons now !!!! insane !!! im so so so excited to see how yall react. this chapter has my favorite sequence of scenes yet ;) enjoy !

–

His name rips from your mouth. “Steve!” 

The bats sink their fangs into his stomach. His legs kick out, he gasps for breath, choking on his pain. Your legs threaten to give out as you stumble towards Steve. Quickly your fingers find the knives you always carry with you just as a bat lunges towards you.

Barely having time to dodge its quick attack, you swat at the creature, but your knives slide off its skin easily. Your heart drops; their flesh is too thick to cut through. The bat screeches at you, its teeth bared, and you throw your body weight against it onto the ground. Angling your knife, you pierce the inside of its mouth, killing it. 

“Shit!” Another bat crawls towards you. Your elbow scrapes the ground as you roll out of its path, slicing into the creature’s maw. 

Steve screams again, this time even louder as even more bats surround him. Frantic, you jump to your feet. Without thinking, you grab the tail of one of the bats, its face buried in Steve’s stomach. When you start to pull, Steve shakes his head violently and throws his arm out at you. “Go!”

You don’t bother answering; you’re not leaving him. 

The bat’s tail cuts your palms as you pry it off of Steve’s flesh, but as soon as it’s removed, it latches onto your upper thigh. “Fuck!”

Razor sharp pain shoots through your entire body. The bat loosens its jaw to only tighten it more; you can feel its teeth hit your bone. Screaming, the white-hot pain blinds you. Your knees give out and you fall before you can catch yourself.

“Y/N!” Steve chokes out, desperate. He clenches his jaw, tries to get up. More bats screech overhead, circling you, and Steve knows you only have seconds before you’re dead. But the vines around his neck constrict even more. His airway closes, another bat takes the other one’s place on his stomach. 

“Motherfucker!” You stab at the bat, but then a second one slams against your body and your shoulder explodes with pain. “Fuck-no,” you try to twist around, to use the last of your strength to remove it from your own skin, but it’s no use. The bats tear at your skin, ripping through muscle and ligaments. 

Lightning flashes, its light red mars the endless dark blue sky. Above you, a bat screeches, signaling its descent, before it dives towards you at full speed. Your eyes close, you hope death will be quick. 

“Get fucked!” Someone screams, a sickening thud following. Opening your eyes, you see the creature’s body get thrown into the air. Eddie stands above you, smiling wickedly, but as soon as he sees the two other bats gnawing on you, he brings his oar over his head and swings. 

You look away, scared he’ll miss, and see Nancy and Robin a few feet away. Nancy holds the other oar, working with Robin to kill the swarm of bats that encase Steve’s body. Seeing them makes you want to cry in sweet relief. 

The sound of the bats’ pained cries echo in your ears. It takes several attempts before Eddie manages to get them off of you. The bat’s teeth cut deeply with every attack, causing you to cry out in pain. It’s fucking agonizing. Warm blood follows a sickening tearing sensation in your leg.

When Eddie has killed both bats, he helps you stand up. “Jesus, you alright?”

“Talk later,” you grunt, already rushing to go help Nancy and Robin. “Fight now.”

Eddie doesn’t stop you. He swings his oar again and Robin begs you to help. She has a bat pinned down while Nancy pounds her oar into its face, but it won’t fucking die. Its tail has wrapped itself around Steve’s neck and he’s paler than you’ve ever seen him. 

But before you can gut the piece of shit creature, another bat pounces on Nancy. Its claws tear her skin and she yelps. You scream her name and catch her before she falls. “I got you.”

Nancy’s hands clutch your body as you stab the bat. “Get it off me!”

“I’m trying!” The bat won’t let go, screeching with every pull. Biting down, you ignore the searing pain as your palms get cut up even more. Robin tries to help, but you scream at her. “No! Help Steve!”

She nods quickly and it’s a mess of fighting and screeches and blood. Steve bites down on the bat’s tail, its jaw opens as it squeals, giving him just enough time to escape. As he rolls to the side, Robin throws the bat’s body onto the ground. 

Seeing Steve safe reinvigorates you, and with one final scream, you use everything within you to pull the bat off of Nancy’s back. It releases her skin with a squelching pop. You force your knife down its throat and pin the creature to the ground. It writhes beneath you. “Now, Nancy!”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Go to hell!” Her oar slams down, killing it.

Behind you Eddie kills the remaining few bats that circle overhead. Steve stands next to you, slamming the final bat into the ground. The body lands with a loud smack against the concrete and Steve rips the carcass in half. 

Blood drips from his mouth and he messily spits it away. He’s panting, his stomach is on fire, he’s stuck in some alternate dimension with no way out, but all he can focus on is you. 

Flesh hangs from your shoulder, leaving behind a gaping wound of exposed muscle. Your thigh is torn clean through. There’s blood everywhere. The white of your tanktop is now soaked in red. But you’re here, you’re alive. He hasn’t lost you. Not yet, at least.

“Y/N–” Steve practically falls against you, and you’re no better yourself. You’re crying, snot runs down your face as you grab desperately at him. His hands are all over you as he tries to stop the bleeding, but there’s so much blood. 

“I-I’m here.” Your hands are all over Steve’s body, too. They cup his waist, there are so many bite marks on him, but at least his flesh is warm under your skin. He’s still here, he’s still yours, and now all you want to do is calm him down. Steve is panicking, holding you as if he’s afraid you’ll die in his arms any second, and the fear on his face makes your chest ache. 

“Are you guys okay?” Nancy asks, tentatively touching your shoulder. A wince slips from her lips when she sees the flesh that is no longer there. “Jesus, Y/N.”

Steve wraps his hands around your thigh, it’s bleeding the most and you can barely put any weight on it. “I’m fine, but they took a fucking pound of flesh from her.”

“You’re no better,” you’ve placed your own hands over his stomach, his blood warm against your fingers. “I think you lost your appendix.”

Steve laughs, but almost immediately his laugh turns into a groan. “God, don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

You apologize, kissing his shoulder. Light catches your attention and you see Robin crouched down next to one of the bat carcasses. She looks up at everyone. “Uh, do you guys think these bats have, like, rabies?”

“Robin, if we have rabies, please promise me you’ll shoot me.” You tell her, dead serious. Rabies has always terrified you. When you were younger, a rabid fox made its way onto your grandparents' farm. It had killed all the chickens, attacked the herding dog they had, and you remember how distraught your father had been when he had to kill both the fox and the hound. 

“I’m sure you and Steve don’t have rabies.” Nancy says, sensing your growing fear. But before she can say anything else a small group of bats descend from the sky.

Steve pushes you behind him. They land near the gate you fell through, screeching at the five of you. They’re a small enough group, Steve voices what you’re all thinking: you can handle them. Flicking your knives out, you prepare for what’s about to come. 

Until a swarm grows larger in the distance. There’s easily hundreds of them, they cast a shadow below where they fly. There’s too many to fight. 

“You were saying?” Robin breathes out, eyes never leaving the sky.

Steve is speechless, he doesn’t know what to do. His hand tightens around you, protective, but thankfully Nancy has a plan. She tells everyone to run towards the woods and none of you hesitate to follow. Steve swings your legs over his arms, picking you up with ease despite the bite wounds that litter his skin. Like hell he’s letting you run right now; you’re too torn up, you can hardly even walk. 

As Steve runs with you in his arms, he’s careful to avoid the vines that creep over the ground. It’s a dizzying rush. All you can do is hold tightly onto him, trusting that Nancy knows where she’s taking you. 

Deep into the woods, Nancy calls over her shoulder, “Over here!”

Lifting your head from Steve’s chest, you realize, as you always do, that Nancy Wheeler is a goddamn genius. She’s taken you all to Skull Rock.

The giant boulders form a small alcove, just big enough to hide under as the bats fly overhead. She instructs everyone to crawl under and Steve sets you down gently, positioning you so that you’re sitting with your back against the rock. As soon as you’re secure, Steve’s hand goes back to your thigh.

The sound of the bats is almost deafening. No one dares to speak. They fly over at such a gruesome speed, their screeches echoing off the trees. You lose count of how many there are. All you can do is wait for the last of them to leave.

More lightning strikes above. It shakes the ground, the sound reverberates in your skull. You can’t believe you’re here. You’re in the Upside Down. The place you’ve only ever spoken about, the entity that haunted your nightmares and took the ones you loved from you.

It’s so much colder than you imagined it to be. Everything is darker, more twisted. The dimension is exactly as Will once described to you: this is Hawkins, it’s your home, but different. Colder, scarier. These woods are the woods you walked through, the woods where you fell in love, and yet the trees loom over you in a threatening way. Their branches form spikes, the dirt recoils against your feet. 

Nothing here feels warm. The darkness is never ending. 

This is where Will was, all by himself, for a week. 

He had only been twelve. 

When the nightmare swarm of bats is finally over, Robin carefully pokes her head out from the alcove. “Okay, that was close.”

Eddie agrees, kicking at a rock. Steve offers you his hand to stand, but the moment your skin touches his, you feel sick. All the adrenaline from earlier leaves you. All the blood you’ve lost catches up, leaving your body weak. Stumbling, your vision tunnels and your eyes roll back. 

“Woah, hey.” Steve breaks your fall, snapping his fingers in your face to bring your attention back to him. He’s weak as well, he has to lean heavily against the rock to steady himself. “Y/N-shit!”

“Steve?” Nancy turns around, finding you and him moments away from collapsing. She curses, rushing over. When she sees all the blood that still pours from your thigh, she gags. “Oh, fuck.”

“Keep… keep talking. Please.” Your breathing is labored, you can hardly form any words. “Keep talking to me. If-if I faint… embarrassing.”

“I think she’s losing it.” Eddie whispers rather loudly to Robin. 

Nancy grazes Steve’s chest, silently asking him to move your body aside. She wants to get a closer look at his wounds as well, she can’t help you if he’s bleeding out himself, but he refuses. “No, no we need to help Y/N.”

“Steve, you’re also losing blood–”

“I don’t care.” Steve pulls you even closer to his chest, he needs to feel your rib cage rising and falling. He needs to feel you breathe. “Help her, Nancy.”

His outburst startles Nancy. She takes a step back, alarmed, but clenches her jaw. There’s no getting through to Steve; she knows she’s lost the fight. “At least sit her down.”

Steve collapses, sliding back against the rock with you tucked to his chest. With shaking hands, he forces you to sit next to him. You wince with every movement, it’s getting harder and harder to stay awake.

“Stay with me, angel.” Steve murmurs to you, motioning to Nancy to look down at your thigh. The wound is bleeding the most, the teeth sunk in the deepest. 

“Don’t wanna faint,” your head sags to the side, exhausted. “So embarrassing.”

Nancy places her hands unsurely to your thigh. The blood squelches, soaking through your jeans. She exhales shakily. “You’re not-you’re not going to faint, okay? Just keep talking, Y/N.”

“Hate bats.” It’s the first thing that comes to mind, but it seems to settle Nancy’s unease and Steve’s worry. “Little fuckers hurt.”

Nancy tears the end of her shirt, her nimble fingers gently lift your injured leg. She ties the piece of fabric tight around your thigh, quelling the bleeding. Steve helps with the knot, though really he just needs something to do. 

“If you want some good news, I’m pretty sure wooziness is not a symptom of rabies.” Robin crouches next to you, smiling despite how terrified she is. “So that’s something, right?”

You yelp when Nancy tightens the tourniquet. Biting your tongue, you force a smile to Robin. “Hooray.”

“There,” Nancy wipes her hands of your blood. The tourniquet isn’t much, but already the bleeding has subsided. “But I think you’re going to need stitches.”

“I’m tired of hospitals,” you whine, but you’re already feeling a bit better. You’re weak, sure, but at least your body isn’t slowly draining itself out. “Thanks, though.”

Nancy nods, smiling softly, before her eyes land on Steve’s stomach. “Can I finally patch you up?”

Steve doesn’t even look at her, instead cups your face. Even though you’re covered in blood and sweat and tears, even though your cheek is scabbed and your lip is split, he doesn’t think he’s ever found you more beautiful. “You alright?”

“Been better,” you admit, squeezing his arm. “But let’s worry about you now.” Turning to Nancy, you extend your arm. “Got any more torn pieces of clothing?”

She bites her lip. The only thing covering your body is your tank top. She’s seen the cuts all over your palms. She doesn’t think you’ll be able to wrap the cloth around Steve, if she’s being honest. But she also knows Steve and how fiercely he loves you. He won’t let anyone near him but you. 

Finally, she sighs. Tearing off more of her shirt, she hands it to you. “Yeah, here.”

You thank Nancy again, and she gives you a curt nod before backing away, giving you and Steve some space. Once she’s gone, you tend to Steve’s injuries. When he moves his hand away and reveals raised, angry flesh, you inhale sharply. “Steve…”

“Just a flesh wound.” He jokes, but you can hear the pain in his voice. 

Though you’re still dizzy and weak, you manage to lift Steve’s body enough to wrap the makeshift bandage around him. Luckily he isn’t bleeding as badly as you are, but the sight of him injured still leaves you nauseous. 

Tying the fabric around his torso, you’re careful not to hurt him any more. The moment is familiar, reminiscent of the years before. Back in the junkyard when a Demodog nearly tore open your rib cage, Steve had been the one to take care of you. He had so carefully wrapped your cardigan around your chest, been so delicate with you, and now it’s your turn to do the same for him. 

“We always end up here, don’t we?” You say softly, it still takes a lot of energy for you to speak. You finish tying a knot to secure the bandage and Steve looks at you oddly. He doesn’t understand, and you shrug. “You and me, patching each other’s wounds up.”

Steve’s eyes soften. It doesn’t matter where he could be, in what situation he could be stuck in, you always somehow remind him of how loved he is. “Kinda wish the bats had eaten my ribs instead. We could’ve had matching scars.”

You laugh, eyes shining with tears. Fresh pain explodes all over your body, but you laugh anyways. You don’t know why you’re laughing or why tears run down your face. The exhaustion and pain from today must finally be catching up to you. “How romantic.”

Steve laughs as well, the pain of it bearable when he hears your laughter mixing with his. “I love you, angel.”

“I love you, too, honey.” It’s so cold in the Upside Down, but the warmth of Steve’s love feels like sunshine kissing your skin. 

Robin clears her throat. “Uh, not to ruin this cute moment, but I just wanted to say that if either of you start feeling aggressive, please let me know. Because, ya know. The threat of rabies still.”

“I kinda wanna punch you.” Steve looks at her pointedly, annoyed. 

You poke his cheek and smile apologetically at Robin. “He didn’t mean that.”

“Sense of humor is still intact, that’s a good sign!” She cheers, then, as an afterthought, she takes off her flannel and hands it to you. “Also, figured you’d want this. Not that you aren’t totally hot right now in only a tiny tank top and blood all over you, it’s just freakishly cold down here and you technically have an exposed wound on your shoulder and who knows what sorts of awful flesh eating diseases there are here.” 

You accept the flannel gratefully and thank her. Then, together, you and Steve stand up. The process is difficult, you only have one functional top and bottom, and you walk in a slow manner together as you lean against the other. 

Up ahead, Eddie is standing on one of the boulders, staring out into the vast dimension. “So, uh. This place is like Hawkins, but with monsters and nasty shit?”

“Basically.” You respond, grunting as you support Steve’s upper body. 

Eddie nods, defeated, and before he can step down, Nancy tells him to be careful of the vines. “It’s all a hive mind.”

When Eddie doesn’t understand, Steve tries to explain it to him. “All the creepy crawlies here, dude. They’re like, one or something.”

“They’re all interconnected. They can feel each other’s pain, feelings, whatever.” You say, remembering how Jonathan had described Will’s agonizing screams when the vines had been burned in the tunnels.

“Step on a vine, you’re stepping on a bat, you’re stepping on Vecna.” Steve finishes grimly. 

Eddie smiles sarcastically, obviously displeased with this information, but he’s careful not to step on any vines on his way down. 

“But everything from our world is still here, right? Except people?” Robin asks.

You nod. “According to Will, yeah.”

This pleases Robin, and she starts explaining her plan. If everything's the same in the Upside Down, then you should be able to use the guns stored away at Hawkins’ police station. With the ammunition stored there, it’d be more than enough to kill the bats that guard the gate back to Hawkins. 

“I highly doubt the Hawkins PD has grenades, Robin.” Steve says skeptically. “But guns? Sure.”

You shake your head. While Robin’s idea is good, there’s still the issue of going all the way downtown from Skull Rock. The five of you barely made it half a mile without getting killed. There’s no way you’d survive three. “But the police station is downtown. That’s too far from here.”

Robin deflates, but Nancy furrows her brows. After thinking for a moment, her eyes light up. “We don’t have to go all the way downtown. I have guns. In my bedroom.”

God you love her.

Eddie scoffs in disbelief. “You, Nancy Wheeler, have guns… plural? In your bedroom?”

“Full of surprises, isn’t she?” Robin says with pride.

“And this is why we always listen to her.” You sing along, high fiving Robin. 

Nancy doesn’t acknowledge you or Robin, but her cheeks flush with slight embarrassment. “A Russian Makarov and a revolver.”

“Yeah, you almost shot me with that one.” Steve reminds her, though his tone is gentle, almost teasing.

You laugh, remembering how terrified he had been when Nancy pointed the gun at him. You all had been so much younger, more naive. All he wanted to do was apologize to Jonathan for their fight earlier. Steve had just wanted to make things right, and that’s why you stepped in front of him that night. “Luckily for you, I was there to save your life.” 

Steve looks down at you fondly. He pulls you close, his eyes are full of so much love. He remembers everything. The night that started it all. “And then I saved yours.”

To think that a sprained ankle and a bat full of nails would lead you to here: Steve’s warm chest against you, so full of love.

Lost in your warm memories, neither you nor Steve see Eddie throwing his vest at Steve’s face until it’s too late. The material smacks against him, cruelly bringing the two of you back to reality. 

“What the fuck, Eddie?” You sneer at him, deeply annoyed. 

He waves at you flirtatiously, a devilish glint in his eyes. “I’m protecting your boyfriend’s modesty for you.”

Before you can retaliate, the ground beneath you starts to shake. The force of it is so sudden, so strong, that it sends you and everyone else falling. Steve catches himself on a rock, holding you tightly to his chest, and you manage to catch Nancy before she falls as well. Eddie grabs onto Robin, stuck on the ground together.

The tremors are violent. There’s a cracking sound, branches fall behind you as the earthquake destroys whatever it can. Steve holds you through it, he whispers reassurances to try and calm you. When it’s over everything is quiet for a moment, before a loud, heart stopping shriek cuts into the night.

It doesn’t sound like any creature you’ve faced before. Far too loud to be a Demodog’s, far too large to be a bat’s. The thought of what it could be almost paralyzes you; it could’ve been the Mind Flayer. 

“Guns seem like a pretty good idea to me.” Eddie finally says, panting. 

Robin quickly agrees, and you swallow down the bile that rises in your throat. “Yeah, okay. I can be okay with guns.”

“So what are we waiting for?” Steve puts Eddie’s vest on, twirling a flashlight in his hand. He nods to himself, tries to convince himself that he’s as confident as he sounds. He extends his other arm towards you, helping you steady your balance. “Let’s go.”

And you follow. 

– 

It’s a long walk from Skull Rock to Nancy’s house; it’s an even longer walk when you’re in the Upside Down, hiding from demonic bats. With every branch that snaps beneath someone’s foot, you all jump. The croak of whatever creature nearby sets everyone on edge. 

“Couldn’t we have tried a road or something just slightly less creepy?” Robin complains, jumping over a vine. 

Leaning against Steve, you groan. “Anything would be less creepy than this.”

“I think we’re getting close,” Nancy tries to sound convincing, but even she’s uneasy. “We’re almost out of here. Don’t worry.”

Robin nods at the reassurance, but you can’t help but wonder what could possibly come next after you find Nancy’s guns. It’d be two guns, two critically injured members of the group, two oars, and one switchblade against an army of bats.

Not the best odds. 

Nancy and Robin wander further ahead, leaving you behind with Steve and Eddie. None of you talk, more so because you’re putting all your energy into not falling on your face and Steve is busy helping you stay upright.

Walking is difficult and painful and you’re so frustrated by it all, especially after you trip over your fourth tree root. If it weren’t for Steve’s quick reflexes, you’d be long dead by now.

Eddie must recognize this, too.

“Here, let me just–” He comes next to you and throws your arm over his shoulders before either you or Steve can protest. Immediately the pressure on your injured leg lessens. You sigh in content, and Eddie smirks. “There ya go, princess.”

“Don’t call her that.” Steve snaps, but even he has to admit that Eddie’s help is needed. With him carrying half your weight, Steve is able to breathe a little easier. You’re better balanced this way. He’s no longer straining his injuries to support you. 

Eddie winces. “I’m sorry, just… trying to lighten the mood, I guess.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, but the silence stretches on and you feel bad for Eddie. He really is trying. Despite the fact that he’s Hawkins’ most wanted, he still tries to make everyone else laugh. He has to know that he’s never getting out of this alive, and you admire the strength it must take to continue laughing anyways. 

So you try to for him as well. “Thank you, by the way. You saved our lives back there.”

Eddie looks at you funny, he hadn’t expected you to acknowledge it. “Shit, Steve saved his own ass, man.”

“That’s true,” you laugh. By the time the fight finished, Steve had somehow managed to fight his way out by himself. “It was impressive.”

“No it wasn’t.” 

Eddie scoffs at Steve’s dismissal. “Please, that was a real Ozzy move you pulled back there.”

“Ozzy?” Steve looks at you, silently asking for some type of explanation, but you shrug. 

“All I know is that he’s in Black Sabbath.” Jonathan occasionally listened to the band whenever he was particularly angry, but not enough for you to understand Eddie’s obscure reference. 

Eddie makes a surprised, but pleased, sound. “Honestly surprised you even know Black Sabbath, but c’mon. Ozzy Osbourne, he bit a bat’s head off onstage. You seriously haven’t heard about that?”

You and Steve stare at him blankly, and he sighs. “Well, it was very metal. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

Steve scoffs again, but deep down you know he’s preening. It’s not everyday someone commends his strength or recognizes how well he can hold his own. Steve has come a long way since his first fight with Jonathan back at the alley. 

“I think I finally get why my brother likes you so much,” you tell Eddie, looking up at him curiously. “You know a lot of weird facts. He goes crazy for them.”

That, and you’re finding that Eddie isn’t so bad when he isn’t surrounded by his goonies. He’s actually… decent when he isn’t putting on a show for everyone. It’s almost reminiscent of how Steve had once been, back when he was the King. 

But if you ever pointed out that similarity to the boys, you know they’d be deeply offended. 

The corners of Eddie’s mouth tilt up. “Yeah, well. The kid adores you and practically worships Steve.”

“He does?” Steve almost sounds bashful at the idea of Dustin worshiping him. It makes your heart constrict. You both miss your brother terribly. 

Eddie nods. “Oh yeah, it’s kinda annoying, to be honest. Especially when all he talks about is Y/N. If he isn’t talking about you, he’s talking about her.”

“I doubt that’s true,” you shake your head. “He doesn’t need me anymore, he’s practically counting down the days until I leave.”

“Nah, man. Dustin tells me all the time how much he’ll miss you when you leave.” Eddie tells you, voice firm. “Kid always talks about how much you look out for him, that he doesn’t know what he’ll do when you’re gone. In a way, it’s annoyingly endearing. He frets over you just as much as you fret over him. I can see the Henderson charm in him that made you Hawkins’ sweetheart.” 

Everything that Eddie tells you leaves your throat sticky with tears. You didn’t know, you couldn’t know all Dustin said about you. For the longest time you thought he’d grown to hate you, to resent you the way kids often do with their family. You would’ve never blamed him; sometimes people just grow up, grow apart, but here Eddie is, telling you that your brother will miss you when you’re gone. 

Unable to say anything in fear that you’ll cry, the only response you give Eddie is a curt, short nod.

Steve rubs your side tenderly, understanding all you’re unable to say. Eddie feels the touch against his own side and he clears his throat. He knows you want him to change the subject. “Admittedly, I got a little jealous. Hearing the little shrimp talk about you as if you hung the goddamn stars yourself.” 

The irony of it all crashes upon you. While you had been jealous of Eddie, he had been jealous of you. The two of you spent months quarreling over Dustin, you’d been uncharacteristically mean to Eddie, and yet the entire time you envied the other. 

Abandonment can make people cruel. 

“I was jealous of you, too.” You finally reveal to Eddie, meeting his eyes for the first time tonight. 

Eddie stares back at you, his expression softens with understanding. He seems to have pieced together what you have: your anger had never been cruel, only defensive. Protective of your brother the way only a sister would in fear of losing him. 

“Guess that makes us both idiots, huh?” Eddie teases gently, accepting the offering of truce that you present to him. 

You laugh, looking away. The moment of truce is nice, pleasant almost, until the beat of silence becomes too unbearable for you. You’ve revealed enough of yourself tonight. Awkwardly clearing your throat, you lift your arm from Eddie’s shoulder and pull away. “Robin is probably missing me right now. She hates the dark, these woods are her worst nightmare.”

Steve catches your arm before you leave. You’re still unsteady on your feet, but he understands what you’re trying to do. He’s come to learn that you shut away when you’re vulnerable. While you wear your heart on your sleeve, Steve knows that it can be exhausting for you. 

“Need me to call her over?” He asks you quietly.

“No, I can manage.” You kiss Steve’s cheek, thanking him without having to say it. Eddie smiles at you as you leave, tight lipped, but kind nonetheless. 

The two teens watch you slowly make your way over to Robin, who happily welcomes your presence. She wraps her arms around you and holds you tightly, giggling slightly, before holding you close and helping you walk. 

“I’ll bring her back in one piece!” Robin calls to Steve, giggling under her breath. Steve waves his hand sarcastically, but doesn’t argue. Turning to you, Robin’s face shines in the blue moonlight. “You here to save me from this totally creepy, absolutely horrid woods?”

“Duh,” your laughter reflects hers. “I’m your knight in shining armor, babe.”

Robin squeezes your hand, resting her head against yours as you walk together. It’s been a long time since you’ve held each other like this. The realization makes you guilty. “How’ve you been holding up?”

Robin shrugs, the motion jostles your head, but you don’t mind. “We’re in the Upside Down, some guy named Vecna wants you and Max dead, and you refuse to admit that you’re scared.”

You bite your lip. Robin is just as worried for you as Steve is, she’s just hidden it better, and you wish that you could spare her the worry. She’s put up such a strong front for you. Between Steve, Dustin, Lucas, and Max, Robin knew you didn’t want yet another person coddling you.

So she stepped back, gave you the space you wanted, but you’re still her best friend. Robin won’t let you forget that.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper to her, holding onto her as tightly as she holds onto you. 

Robin shrugs again. “Nothing to forgive, pretty girl.”

And it’s as simple as that.

Though Steve can’t hear your conversation, he watches you and Robin fondly. The two of you sway together, laughing occasionally. Eddie notices the way Steve looks at you and laughs to himself. 

“You know, I was jealous of you, too.”

Steve raises his eyebrow. “What?”

“I was jealous of you and Henderson, the little one, I mean. Guess I couldn’t accept the fact that Steve Harrington was actually a good dude. I mean, rich parents, popular, chicks love him, not a douche? No way dude. That like, flies in the face of all laws in the universe and my own personal Munson doctrine.”

Then Eddie motions towards you. “And when you started dating Y/N? C’mon, man. Everyone knows Y/N Henderson is like, God’s gift to selflessness. I watched her tutor kids in the library like goddamn Gandhi, and suddenly she’s dating you? There isn’t any law in the universe to explain that. Fucking unfair.”

Though he knows he should be offended, Steve finds himself laughing. If he’s being honest, he’s relieved that someone else is questioning whether Steve deserves you. From the moment he met you, you’ve tried convincing him that he’s always deserved you. But Steve knows better, and he can’t believe it’s Eddie Munson who sees this, too. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I also don’t know why Y/N chose me.” Steve confesses, catching Eddie’s attention. “Honestly, I don’t think I ever would’ve been someone she even liked had we not been dragged into the Upside Down together. I was a douchebag. She hated me for years, but I guess saving her life a few times earned me some brownie points.” 

Eddie snorts. “Surprised you’re not claiming it was your ‘stunningly good looks’ that made Y/N fall for you. Oh how humble you’ve become.”

“Y/N changed me.” Steve’s eyes find your body again. They will always draw towards you no matter where you are.

The sincerity in Steve’s voice surprises Eddie. Licking his lips, he sighs. “Well whatever she did, I never would’ve jumped in that lake to save your ass, not under any normal circumstances.” A branch snaps, Steve and Eddie turn to its source, but there’s nothing there. Sighing again, Eddie continues to walk. “Outside of DnD, I’m no hero. I see danger and I just turn heel and run… at least, that’s what I’ve learned about myself this week.”

Steve doesn’t know where Eddie is going with this. “Hey, give yourself a break, man.”

Eddie points to you, Robin, and Nancy walking up ahead. “No, you see. The only reason I came in here was ‘cause those ladies came in straight after you. I was too ashamed to be the one who stayed behind. But Y/N? She dove in the second your head went under. Nearly tore Robin’s arm off trying to get to you.”

Something heavy settles in Steve’s chest. There’s a shift, there’s something that simmers deep into his rib cage. 

Eddie forces Steve to look at him. “I don’t know how you did it, but she loves you. The way she was screaming your name, it was an unambiguous sign of true love that these cynical eyes have ever seen. And if someone like Y/N Henderson loves you… then I figured you must be worth saving.”

Steve’s breath stutters. He looks up at you again, the warmth that cascades his veins whenever he sees you overwhelms him. Steve loves you more than anything. To be told how deeply you love him by someone else is almost too much. 

You and Steve have been fighting so much recently. He’s said awful things to you, you’ve hurt him in ways he hadn’t known he could hurt. All the unspoken words, all the uncertainty and fear, and yet you dove in to save Steve without hesitating. 

And isn’t that all that love is? To love without expectations, without hesitancy. Love is the inability to separate your breath from the person’s lungs; you took all the air out of Steve’s chest the moment you smiled at him. 

You’re the best goddamn thing that has ever happened to Steve. He’s always known this, he’s always known that what the two of you have is special. It’s something more than just young love. 

So what if the future you envision doesn’t align with Steve’s? How could something so small, so miniscule as compared to forever with you, be what Steve allows to drive you away? You deserve more than just his insecurities. You’ve already decided that Steve deserves your love, what more can he want from you?

He already has you; Steve won’t let you walk away from him. Not this time, not when what you have is rare and real and raw. 

Steve almost wants to laugh at how funny it is. He’d been so worried about losing you, that he almost lost you in the process. What’s even worse: it took a five minute conversation with fucking Eddie Munson to even realize it. 

“Y/N, she’s–” Steve begins, but the ground starts to shake again and he’s falling. Eddie curses, sick of these earthquakes, and Steve braces himself as the rumbling continues. 

Robin struggles to hold onto you as you cower together under the earth’s violent shaking. Instinctively your head turns toward Steve to make sure he’s okay. You find him on the ground next to Eddie. Sensing your eyes on him, Steve looks up and nods reassuringly at you. Relieved, you breathe against Robin. 

“Second on my list of least favorite things,” she says, voice shaking. “Earthquakes. Seriously, I’m unsteady enough as it is.”

“At least you have two working legs.” You quip.

Robin shushes you, but her voice raises when she sees Nancy stand and take off. “Nancy!”

Squinting at the darkness, you see the girl’s figure disappearing into the treeline. She’s running alarmingly fast, way too fast for anyone to catch up in time, and your heart lurches. None of you should be splitting up right now. It isn’t safe. “Fuck! Someone stop her!”

Robin quickly throws you onto your feet and you call after Steve and Eddie to follow. If running was difficult with a bleeding out leg, it’s almost impossible with the ground shaking beneath you. But if Nancy’s in trouble, you need to get to her as soon as you can. Leg be damned.

Breaking through the treeline, you find her standing at the edge of a clearing. There are fallen trees everywhere. Red lightning illuminates the Wheeler house before you. By some miracle, you’ve made it.

“Come on.” Nancy breaks the silence, chin held high. She isn’t giving up now, not when you’re all so close. 

She starts to walk, never looking back, and you look at Steve. He grabs your hand. You take a deep breath. You fucking hope Nancy’s plan works. 

This is your only chance of going home.

– 

The Wheeler house is exactly how you remember it, only vines and debris maims its usually pristine appearance. Nancy walks through the door first while Steve shines a flashlight. Particles float everywhere. You try not to think about the fact that you’re inhaling them.

Your foot catches on a stray vine, its tendrils flail angrily at you. Stomping your foot away, you look wearily at Nancy. “Love the decor.”

She rolls her eyes while Robin echoes you. “Might be time to get a maid, Wheeler.”

Ignoring the two of you, Nancy ushers everyone upstairs. While her voice is level, the unease in her body is apparent. She doesn’t like seeing her home this way. Sympathetic, you start to follow Nancy, but for a split second you think you hear Dustin’s voice.

It’s faint, mostly incoherent, and you think you’ve finally gone crazy. That’s it. Vecna has won, you’ve lost the remaining sanity you had left. 

But then Steve suddenly freezes next to you. His bewilderment tells you that he hears Dustin, too. That’s your brother. You’d know his nasally voice anywhere.

Sharing a look with Steve, you simultaneously begin running around the house, trying to follow the sound of Dustin’s voice. You remember Will telling you how he could hear Joyce’s cries for him while he’d been trapped in the Upside Down. It had been the only way Joyce could communicate with him. What if this is the same?

“Start screaming,” you command Steve, limping over to one of the walls. 

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s what Will did, he-he screamed for his mom and Joyce was able to hear him.” You press our mouth close to the wall and shout, “Dustin!” 

He has to hear you. You don’t know what you’ll do if he doesn’t.

Steve wastes no time following along, screaming Dustin’s name at the top of his lungs as well. You know the two of you must look like complete idiots, but you’re desperate.

“Dustin! Dustin Henderson you have five seconds to answer me!” You yell, throat burning.

“Hello? Answer us!” Steve stands in the center of the kitchen, crouched down as if getting ready to bolt. 

This is how Nancy, Robin, and Eddie find you. The three of them stare at you and Steve in concern, though none of them want to get any closer. Robin ducks her head down, whispers, “Maybe they really do have rabies.”

“What are you guys doing?” Nancy demands, fed up. 

“He’s here,” Steve whips his flashlight around, facing them. “Henderson. That little shit, he’s here. He’s like-he’s in the walls or something. Just listen.”

Dustin, predictably, is quiet the moment Steve tells everyone to listen. 

You pound on the wall. “Oh, now you’re quiet?” Everyone looks at you skeptically and you rub your face tiredly. “Look, I know this all sounds crazy, but I can hear Dustin, alright? It’s him.”

“Dustin!” Steve continues to screech, not helping your whole “we aren’t crazy” argument. 

Only Dustin’s voice returns, and thankfully Nancy and everyone else hears it. Together you all search the house, calling your brother’s name out. Yet now matter how loud you scream, he doesn’t respond.

“Alright, either this kid can’t hear us or he’s being a total douchebag.” Steve drops his flashlight.

You blow hair out of your face. “Normally he’s a douchebag, but not nearly to this extent.”

Nancy stands next to you. “But Will found a way to make Joyce listen.”

“When Joyce couldn’t hear him anymore, she used the Christmas lights.” You look at her. “Do you think…?”

She’s already running to the nearest lamp in the kitchen. Flicking the switch, nothing happens. You suggest trying a different light, though you know it won’t make a difference. When the lights remain unlit, you slam your palm against the table in frustration. 

“Guys?” Steve gets your attention. He’s shining his flashlight at the chandelier that hangs over the Wheeler’s dining table. “You seeing this?”

Where Steve points his flashlight, a warm, evanescent glow emits from the chandelier. You gasp at its beauty, you’ve never seen anything like it. Nancy steps towards the light and slowly puts her hand into the loose waves that flow between the lights. It’s encased in small orbs that float gently into the air. 

Nancy’s fingers dance in the light. A path of gold leaves a trail where her fingers have been. The particles in the light surround her hand, pulled in by her presence. Breathless, you reach out as well. The light kisses your hand, and the sensation is soft, almost ticklish. 

“This is insane,” you murmur in awe, face illuminated. You never thought you’d encounter beauty in such a place as the Upside Down. But at least Will found the beauty, too. “This must be how Will did it.”

Robin, Steve, and Eddie copy you and Nancy, putting their hands into the light as well. The five of you twirl your fingers around, causing the light to flicker with every movement. 

Steve’s pinky reaches for yours. “It… tickles?” 

“It kinda feels good.” Mumbles Robin, making figure 8’s with her finger. 

Nancy then lowers her hand and asks if anyone knows morse code. She mostly looks at you when you ask, and you bitterly tell her no. You’d think after everything you and the party have been through, you’d at least learn morse code by now. 

“Wait, does SOS count?” 

Eddie’s stupid question makes you hit his chest. “Of course it counts!”

“Ow!” He shoves you away from him, straightening his leather jacket. “A ‘yes” would’ve sufficed.”

Nancy shushes the two of you and instructs Eddie to start typing out the code. With a huff, he listens, and soon he begins the pattern for SOS. A soft buzz accompanies every flicker of the light. With each letter combination, you can practically feel Dustin getting closer and closer to you. 

It’s almost an indescribable feeling. Somewhere, in another universe, Dustin is standing right where you are. You aren’t sure how you know, maybe you’ll never be able to find the right words, but your brother’s presence settles over your own. 

This must be how Jonathan felt when Joyce was in the Upside Down. He whispered her name so softly when he followed her with the lights. Their love for one another tethered them; now it’s your love for Dustin that tethers him to you. 

“Dustin,” his name comes out whispered, relieved. He’s okay, you can feel that he’s safe. 

“Y/N?” Dustin’s muffled shouting fills everyone with relief. Steve and Eddie high five, Nancy lets out the breath she’d been holding, and Robin cheers while you hastily wipe your eyes. The SOS worked. “Is that-is that you?”

“Yes!” Steve screams into the chandelier, though you know your brother won’t be able to hear.

Anxious to get to Dustin as fast as you can, you shove your hands into the chandelier’s light and send a long, bright beam of light. More muffled screaming can be heard on the other side, only this time laughter accompanies it.

“Holy shit!” Dustin exclaims in awe. The amazement in his voice makes you miss him even more. There’s a murmur of other voices, you can only assume one of them is Lucas’, before Dustin shouts even louder, “We’re gonna find you a better light source. Don’t move.”

You roll your eyes. “Like we can go anywhere else.”

Dustin leaves again, but he’s back within minutes. Through loud screaming, he tells you to find Holly’s Lite Brite and go to Nancy’s room. Him and Lucas will meet the rest of you there. 

The moment Dustin leaves again, Nancy shoves everyone upstairs. “I’ll find the light pad, the rest of you go. Now.” 

And that’s how you find yourself restlessly staring at a child’s light up toy on Nancy Wheeler’s bed with Steve’s chest pressed against your back. He leans close to the toy, mumbling under his breath, “Come on, little Henderson.”

The Lite Brite suddenly comes to life. You throw your hands up triumphantly, giddy. “Yes!”

“You guys seeing this?” Dustin asks, to which Nancy responds by putting her hand into the light. Dustin squeals in excitement. This must be a scientific dream for him. “Okay, we’re not moving it, but we’re gonna unplug it. Stand by.”

The light fades away and Dustin prompts someone to spell something. Everyone turns to you. He’s your brother, you should be the one to make first contact. 

Carefully, you use your pointer finger to spell out D.U.S.T.

Eddie cocks his head. “‘Dust’?”

“He’ll understand.” 

When your mom first brought Dustin home from the hospital, he’d been so small. Immediately you fell in love with the small baby, but his size had confused you. You’d never seen anything so tiny before. 

“He’s small,” you informed your father, making a face at the yawning baby before you. “Like dust.”

You were only three, but you can still remember the way your dad had laughed. For years afterwards you never referred to Dustin by his actual name. He was only ever “Dust” to you. Your father joined, the nickname stuck, though your mother came to prefer “Dusty.”

It was only after your father left that you stopped calling your brother Dust. 

“Dust!” Dustin laughs excitedly. “I’m Dust! Yes!” He raises his voice louder, he can’t believe you remembered the old childhood nickname. “That worked, guys!”

Everyone cheers, Eddie even throws in his own enthusiastic “hi” to the Lite Brite. Your face aches from how hard you smile. Turning the toy over to Nancy, you nod at her. “All yours, Wheeler.”

Her eyebrows knit together as she thinks for a moment. There’s so much to tell Dustin and the others, but the Lite Brite is small and too many words to keep track of. “What should I write?”

“‘Help’ would be a pretty good place to start.” You suggest to her. 

Instead, Nancy ends up spelling “stuck”. Which is pretty fitting, all things considered. Gets the message across well. 

“You can’t get back through Watergate?”

Steve questions whatever the hell watergate is and Robin has to explain the wordplay. While she does so, pride swells deep within your chest. “Dustin’s a little genius that I love so much.”

“It was pretty clever.” Eddie admits. 

Nancy tells Dustin that the gate you all came through is guarded. However, never missing a beat, Dustin tells you that he thinks they have a theory that can help. “We think Watergate isn’t the only gate, that there’s one at every murder site.”

You jerk your head up, eyes widening. It all makes sense now. “Wait, I think he’s–”

“Does anyone have any idea what he’s talking about?” Nancy asks tiredly. Everyone gives her equally tired no’s, but you nod viciously.

“Yes! We already know there’s multiple gates, we just didn’t know how, but Dustin might’ve figured it out. It’s all connected to the murders.”

Nancy looks skeptical. “I don’t know…” Before you can argue with her, she sends a “?” back to Dustin. 

Who, predictably, doesn’t take it well. “Seriously? How many times do I have to be right on the money before you guys just trust me?”

Steve grimaces. “Jesus Christ. This kid’s gotta get his ego checked out.” 

“It’s his tone, right?” Eddie butts in.

You shove them both. “Shut up. Both of you. Dustin can be annoying and frustrating, but he’s right. He’s always been right. Now if you guys would actually listen, he’ll get us out of here.”

Looking pointedly at everyone, you start to explain. “There was a gate in Lover’s Lake, which we obviously found,” your arms wave behind you. “The same lake where Patrick died. Now, where else has a dead body been found?”

“Eddie’s trailer,” Nancy straightens, understanding where you’re going with this. Looking at Eddie, she asks him how far it is. 

“Seven miles.” 

Your head drops. “Why couldn’t you have lived closer?”

“I’m sorry I’m… poor?” Eddie looks at you incredulously. 

You flick a dismissive hand at him, but Robin cuts in between you two. “Nancy, I know your house here is, like, weirdly, creepily frozen in time and shit–”

“It’s what?” Obviously you missed some important details. 

Robin holds her hand up. “I’ll explain later. Anyways, haven’t you always had bikes?”

You and Nancy share a look, both thinking the same thing: the bikes would be perfect. That, and they’re kinda your only option at the moment. 

– 

Since you’re in no condition to bike (your thigh has only just stopped bleeding) and there’s only four bikes anyways, Steve has you wrap your arms around his chest and stand on his pegs. He claims it’s so that you can avoid putting any weight on your leg, but you honestly think he just wants you to hold him. Pressing your body close to his, you look around at the houses you pass.

In a strange, twisted way, it’s exhilarating biking through an Upside Down Hawkins. Everything, and yet nothing, is the same. The houses you pass are frozen in time, empty, ghostly. Robin, Nancy, and Eddie bike alongside you and Steve. The scene is almost reminiscent of the night you biked Will home, wind in your hair and the night sky before you. 

Everything has changed since then.

Somewhere along the route to Eddie’s, you bike past the Creel house. Your arms tighten instinctively around Steve. A chill runs through you, the house is just as haunting in the Upside Down as it is back in your universe. Your head throbs being so close to it, as if warning you, but Steve is turning into Eddie’s neighborhood before you can think much else of it. 

“That’s gotta be a Guinness World Record.” Robin throws her bike down, breathless. “Most miles traveled interdimensionally.”

Steve coughs, swatting at the particles in the air. “Just inhaled a bunch of that crap.”

“I’ve been trying not to think about how much of the Upside Down we’ve ingested since being here.”

“It’s stuck in my throat, Y/N.”

“Again, I’m trying not to think about that.”

Eddie opens his trailer door and, just as Dustin predicted, there’s a gate. It’s just like the one in Lover’s lake had been: illuminating red light, vines all around its edges. An open wound. 

“This is where Chrissy died.” Eddie stares up at the gate, which resides in the ceiling. He swallows heavily. “Like, right where she died.”

“I’m sorry.” Your hand finds Eddie’s arm. You don’t know much about what their relationship had been, but he seems to have cared about the girl a lot. 

Eddie gives you a tight lipped smile, his eyes shining slightly. As he looks at you, Robin sees something moving in the gate. “I think there’s something in there.”

Something starts to protrude from it, causing the gate to swell rapidly. The vines almost seem to snarl at the intrusion. An ominous, unsteady croak emits from the gate. The sound sets your nerves on edge and Steve shoves you behind him protectively. Hand on your knives, you raise them, bracing. 

The gate explodes, spewing liquid and vines everywhere. You all scream, jumping back, as something rips through the membrane-like material. Unable to tell what’s just happened, you squint up at the ceiling.

Nothing jumps out at you, no bats come to feast on your flesh. Finding Steve’s eye, you silently ask him if you should walk closer. Nodding, he grabs your hand, and together you creep towards the remains of the gate.

When you look up, you find Dustin’s smug, joyous face staring back at you. Only he’s upside down with Max, Lucas, and Erica, all just as in shock as you are.

You’ve never been more relieved to see them in your life. Dropping your hands to your knees, you bend over and finally breathe. “Oh, thank God.”

“No way…” Steve waves at them, and they wave right back. “Hi.”

“Dustin!” If your leg wasn’t hanging by a thread, you’d be jumping up and down right now. Instead, you opt for waving like a madman at your brother. The entire situation is so fucking bizarre, but you don’t even care anymore. “You did it!”

“I did it!” Dustin giggles. “Bada bada boom!”

After some heated discussions and a few arguments, Dustin and the others come up with a way to get the five of you out of the Upside Down. Using Eddie’s bed sheets as a makeshift rope had been the easy part. What caused nearly a fist fight between Max and Dustin had been figuring out a soft landing pad for you guys. 

“I, uh. Have a mattress?” Eddie finally suggested when he noticed Max’s fist clenching. 

She glared at him. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Well, I mean. It’s-uh. Minor details?”

But none of them had time to question Eddie’s sudden shyness regarding his mattress. Dustin got straight to work tying the bed sheets together while Max and Lucas worked on dragging the mattress out of Eddie’s room. 

However, the moment it landed on the ground, all eyes went to the giant stains on the bed. Cringing in disgust, you eye Eddie.

Seeing your disapproving look, he swallows. “Those stains are, uh…” He tries to come up with an excuse, but eventually he realizes it’s better to just accept defeat. “I don’t know what those stains are.”

“Would we want to know even if you knew?” You ask him, already knowing the answer.

“... Probably not.”

Dustin tosses the bed sheet rope up, or rather down, through the gate. “Not quite sure how these physics are gonna work, but here goes nothing.”

Miraculously, it lands perfectly in front of you. Dustin tugs at the rope before letting go of it completely. You gasp. The rope stands on its own, stiff but secure, and Dustin lets out a pleased laugh. “Abracadabra.”

“I’ve never understood physics.” You say, pulling at the rope. It doesn’t move. “But even I can admit that this is cool.”

Dustin high fives Erica and Robin steps up first. “Guess I’m the guinea pig.”

“Please be careful.” You tell her, already dreading your own ascent. Your shoulder still aches and you were never the best at climbing the rope for gym. You preferred soccer, track, anything that involved leg coordination. Not upper body. 

Robin slowly climbs up, and when her body hits the disgusting mattress back in your dimension, you let out a breath of relief. “That was kinda fun,” Robin giggles slightly.

Then Eddie stares at you, Steve, and Nancy. He waits for someone to move, obviously not wanting to be next. But when no one does, he shakes his head. “Alright, I guess I’ll go.”

Steve holds the rope steady and Eddie falls onto his mattress safely. He sits up, exhilarated. “That was fun.” He echoes Robin. 

Steve gestures for Nancy to go next. “I’ll help Y/N up after you’re done.”

She gives him an uncertain look, eyeing your injuries, and you try to smile at her reassuringly. “Go, I’ll be fine. Promise.”

Knowing it’s as good of an answer she’ll get from you, Nancy takes a deep breath. “See you on the other side.”

You grab her waist and help hoist her up alongside Steve. She’s swift, her strength impresses you. She’s almost reached the top before you hear the first chime. 

It’s loud, deafening. The chime of a grandfather clock.

Another chime follows, then a third, a fourth. It wracks your skull with its force. 

You turn, gasping, expecting to find the grandfather clock that Max had seen in her vision. Only you’re met with darkness. You can’t see anything, you can’t find a way out. You can’t feel Steve next to you, your hands try to find his in the dark, but all they’re met with is air. 

“What–” Panic chokes you. None of this is right, you don’t know where you are, you don’t know what’s happening and you can’t feel Steve and–

The sensation of sunlight kissing your face stops you. 

Your eyes open. You’re no longer in Eddie’s trailer. 

You’re outside, there’s sunshine all around you. In front of you is a field of dandelions, their sweet yellow reflects the gold of the sun above. The grass beneath your feet is soft, lush and green. A bee flies past your head and someone calls your name.

You’ve been here before. In the distance resides a small house on a hill. The blue door and white frames of your childhood home welcomes you. You’re back in Virginia. Someone calls your name again.

The voice is familiar. 

It’s your father, calling you home. 

The realization knocks all the air out of your lungs. None of this is real. You know it isn’t real, but to hear your father’s voice, so sweet and saccharine again, it makes you weak. But it isn’t real. Your legs begin to move, you’re running before you can think of anything else. 

This is a vision. The scent of oak trees and strawberries isn’t real. The wheat that skims your thighs as you run doesn’t exist. “This is a vision,” you try to talk to yourself, your fingers dig into your pockets for your walkman. 

You know you’re supposed to always have it on you, that’s what Dustin told you, but there’s nothing there. Panic swells within your chest once more. “No, please–”

Distracted as you look for your walkman, you don’t see the body in front of you.

Colliding into your father, he steadies you. “Woah, there.”

His calloused hands are rough and familiar. He’s laughing, his voice is the same gruff voice that used to sing you to sleep. Your father looks down at you and your entire body freezes when your eyes meet his. 

You haven’t seen him ever since you were twelve. He looks the same as the day he left. His smile is the same, the crooked teeth charming. Your father’s nose still points up ever so slightly. The only indication that he’s aged are the wrinkles that line his face, years of sunlight etching them. 

But it’s his eyes that hurt you the most. They’re still kind. 

“What are ya runnin’ from, ladybug?” Your father asks you, his southern drawl liquid honey to your ears. 

Tears build within you hearing the childhood nickname. You were his ladybug for as long as you could remember. When he used to call, he’d whisper the name over the phone as an apology for everything he’d done to you. 

Because you can’t help it, because you’ll never be able to do this again, you hug your father. He lets out a soft chuckle at the impact, his arms hold you as they’ve always done. Your face buries itself into his rough t-shirt.

You’re a little girl who needs her daddy right now. 

“I.. I missed you, daddy.” Voice breaking, you begin to cry. 

Your father’s palm rests against your hand. He hums, soothing the ache in your bones. “You know you can never outrun it.”

The words unsettle you, there’s something about them that causes you to pull away. “Outrun what–?” “The guilt, ladybug. It will always find you.” Your father’s smile twists into a sickening grimace. The muscles in his face conjoin, his eyes darken as his voice becomes gravel. Deeper. Until it isn’t your father’s voice anymore, but someone else's. “I will always find you.”

Too late do you realize that it’s Vecna who now has you. You start to scream, thrashing in your father’s arms to escape, but he only grips you harder. He’s laughing, but it’s no longer your father’s laughter. 

Suddenly you’re thrown into the lake behind you. You fall, screaming, as you descend deep into a pitch black void. Your arms reach out, you try to find anything to grab onto, but there’s nothing. It’s just endless emptiness. 

You land harshly on your back, all the air gone. You gasp, choke on whatever air remains in your body. The impact leaves you coughing, clawing at the ground beneath you to breathe. Soil scrapes under your nails, your palm gets cut on a root.

You’re in the woods. 

Scrambling to sit up, you realize you’re in the same part of the woods that Will went missing in. Fear cuts through your veins. Why would Vecna take you here?

“Will?” You’re on your feet now, cupping your hands over your mouth as you shout his name. Does Vecna have him? Have you lost him again? “Will!”

“He needed you that night.” Vecna’s voice taunts you, the sound like rocks grinding together. “Where were you?”

You’re running now. Branches cut your face as you break through them. You have to find Will. You can’t lose him again. You can’t do that to Jonathan, to Joyce and El and Dustin and Mike and everyone else. You’re the one who lost Will that night.

He had needed you. Isn’t that what Vecna said?

“Nancy!” Sobbing, you call for someone, anyone. But no one answers. Your vision blurs with tears, there’s someone running behind you. Chasing you. Terrified, you scream for the person you need the most. “Steve!”

Saying his name must trigger something, because suddenly the scene changes. You’re no longer in the woods. You’re on the ledge of someone’s roof, overlooking a window sill. A large, bay window that you’ve spent countless slow mornings residing on. 

Steve’s house. 

He’s standing in front of his bed, facing the window, facing you, but he doesn’t look at you. Not how he always does; his gaze lacks warmth. 

“Steve!” You pound on the glass, you try desperately to get him to acknowledge you, but he doesn’t. His eyes are on Nancy, who sits on the bed before him. He leans down, brushes her hair out of her face, before bridging the distance between them.

You watch as Steve kisses Nancy. He cups her chin the way he cups yours. Bile rises in your throat; you can’t turn away. Their kisses become heated, Steve is tugging at Nancy’s hair and her clothes. She tugs at him as well, he helps her remove his shirt.

Nancy’s lips trace the expanse of Steve’s neck and his eyes, once closed in bliss, now open. He looks right at you. 

“Did you really think I’d forget her, Y/N?” His voice digs into your ears. Nancy nips at his neck and he moans. He throws his head back, looks at you again. “I can’t. At least, not as easily as your dad forgot you.”

You stumble back, crying so hard you can barely breathe. Steve laughs seeing your heartbroken reaction. It’s cruel and awful. He’s cold. You’ve never known his voice to hold so much malice. Not towards you. Not towards anyone. 

He’s wrong. Steve doesn’t love Nancy, not anymore. Vecna is the one saying this, you know it isn’t Steve. He would never say any of this to you, he could never be so cruel to you. He loves you. You know he does. 

“N-no! This isn’t-this isn’t real–”

But the hatred in Steve’s eyes causes your foot to catch on the edge of the roof. You don’t have time to catch yourself; your body is weightless again, only this time it’s a much shorter fall. You land on concrete. Ripping your eyes open, there are domed walls around you. 

Nancy stands above you. 

Hyperventilating, you crawl away from her. You’re in Steve’s pool, only it’s empty, infested with vines, and your fingers stain the ground with blood. Everything in your body is screaming at you to run.

“Y/N–” Nancy tries to stop you, but you scream at her, kicking. She only barely avoids your fury. Holding her hands up, she lowers her voice, softens it. She’s crying, her terror the same as yours. “Y/N, it’s me, okay?”

Your body trembles with exhaustion. You close your eyes, tired of fighting. “Please be real.”

“I’m real.” Nancy swears to you, carefully reaching for you. When you allow her touch, she helps you stand up. 

The memory of her having sex with Steve is burned into your mind. You can’t look Nancy in the eye. She breathes heavily next to, looking around for a way out, when she sees something. A strangled cry leaves Nancy’s lips.

Barbara Holland’s corpse sits on the other side of the pool.

You cover your mouth with a gasp, choking slightly at the sight. Nancy cries out in pain, in grief, seeing her best friend’s body dismembered by vines. You stumble towards Nancy and hold her as she sobs. 

“Do you remember what you did, Nancy? Or have you already forgotten?” Vecna’s voice shakes the pool. “Don’t worry, I showed Y/N. When I kill someone… I never forget.”

A sob collapses in your chest. Barb’s death hadn’t been Nancy’s fault. Yet to place her in the same pool Barb was killed in, to show Nancy her corpse, is unrelenting cruelty. 

All around you, blood pours from the vents of the pool. It comes out quick, thick, at a dizzying speed. Nancy tugs at your hand and practically throws you up the ladder to escape. But when you reach the top, you’re met with a red hell.

It’s exactly how Max drew it.

Fragments of stairs, jagged pieces of wood, a grandfather clock, they all drift through the air painted with blood-red. Somewhere there’s screaming, the sound only drowned out by lightning. A clock ticks over and over again. Its metronome is maddening.

Nancy holds your hand and neither one of you lets go. Having nowhere else to go, you’re forced to walk down the stairs you arrived at. The clock chimes again and your heart stops.

“I see you’ve been looking for me, Nancy. And Y/N…” Vecna pauses, preying on you. “I’ve been watching you for quite some time.”

Everything stops.

“All the guilt, all the pain.” 

It comes to you in flashes. 

How Will used to smile at you, before his childhood was taken from him. Max’s blue eyes, shining with youth and happiness, before grief killed her. Billy, how he would be kind to your mother at the pool. Hopper, the way you’d bicker with him just to get him to smile.

It’s all gone because of you; you can’t remember how to breathe. 

Vecna feeds on your fear. “How fragile you’ve become… like a dandelion.” 

The wording, it’s too specific to not mean anything. Dandelions were once one of your favorite flowers. Before a nightmare from last summer changed everything. The dandelions had filled your mouth with razors and choked you. Someone called your name in the distance, they’d been too late to save you.

The dream had felt so real. You’d woken up with tears in your eyes.

And now you know it had been Vecna all along. Even back then. He’s been watching you for far longer than you realized. The realization chokes you, the fear overwhelms you. He’s been here all along.

Nancy yanks at your arm, you can barely hear her over the roaring in your head. “Y/N, listen to my voice.” 

She’s shaking you, trying to bring you back to her, but you’re lost. Hyperventilating, you struggle to catch your breath. You feel too vulnerable. Raw. Exposed. There are corpses strung up by vines in front of you. Fred’s broken jaw. Chrissy’s snapped neck. Patrick’s empty eye sockets. 

The same will happen to you. 

You’ve spent so long trying to be strong, trying to keep everyone safe. You’ve devoted your entire life to protecting others, helping them. But Vecna has been watching you for almost an entire year, maybe even longer, and you hadn’t noticed.

It’s why he’s targeted Max. He watched you take care of everyone you loved. Vecna watched you raise the girl. He knew it’d hurt you the most to lose her. It hadn’t been a coincidence. It’s all your fault. It’s always your fault. Will went missing because of you. Billy died because you hadn’t said anything. Max will die because you hadn’t seen the signs sooner. 

Nancy’s screams fall deaf on your ears. She shakes you, begs you to come back, but why should you?

This is all your fault. 

It’s always your fault. 

It’s always your fault. It’s always your fault. It’s always your fault. It’s always–

You feel your body lift. 

Everything fades to black.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)

[unamused-boss]

Lipstick Stains

Billy Hargrove x Harrington FemReader

Summary: There has been some new gossip floating through Hawkins High. The gossip being that Billy has a lipstick stain that just so happens to match a certain girl's iconic shade.

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

You were a Harrington. You had a certain standing that you had to keep cause of the expectations of your parents. One of those expectations were not making out with Billy Hargrove in his car in the back of the school parking lot during lunch. But your parents were never home so you didn't really give a damn.

"Billy we have to go back into the school at some point." You said releasing your lips from his. As you tried to pull back he pulled you in for another quick kiss.

"Oh come on, we don't have to." He smirked to you.

"Listen Mr. Bad Boy, I know you don't like school but I have a test." You said to him. He gave you a small pout at your response to which you just laughed at him. "You also messed up my lipstick." You said as you flipped the visor down to use the mirror to reapply your dark red lipstick.

"That's not the only thing I can mess up." He joked. You just gave him the look, he knew the look. It didn't need a name.

"Well Hargrove I have to get going." You brought yourself close to kiss his neck then up to the apple of his freckled cheeks. You collected you things to go back into the school before the bell. Before you shut the door you look back at Billy to see the two kiss marks that you left on him. You just smiled at him.

"Love ya, see you later." You said then shut the door to go to the school.

Billy continued with his day like usual. Thinking that nothing would go out of the ordinary. He knew he was hot shit so people were staring at him as perusal but he didn't know what they were staring at. In each class he had stares his way, to which he had to tell some off for looking too long.

"Nice job man." Tommy Hagan laughed as he patted his back. Billy was just confused about what he was talking about but he continued as nothing was wrong. The bell rang through the halls to signal that the school day was over. Billy made his way to the doors top the parking lot to leave when he saw a certain Steve Harrington staring him down from his locker.

"You got a problem Harrington?" He asked.

"Yeah, not with you though." Steve replied slamming his locker shut to go find a certain sister of his. Billy didn't know that, he was just confused and thought nothing of it. He finally was able to make it to his Camaro to wait for Max. Students around him were still looking at him. Some girls looking in distaste, not at him but at the kiss marks on his cheeks. Some guys were just laugh in congrats to him. Billy just wanted to get the hell out and get Max home so he can go see his girlfriend. Billy looked over to see a certain red head making her way over to his car.

"Get in shit-bird, I got places to be." He said as he got in the drivers seat while Max got in the passenger seat. She just stared at him, more than she would usually. Which is not at all. Billy glanced at her a few times.

"What?" He asked annoyed with her staring.

"What's on your face?" She asked. Billy was confused until he thought back to lunch. He grabbed his sun visor to look himself in the mirror to see the two kiss marks on him. Just as he thought, one on his cheek and the other on his neck. He just laughed what he was looking at.

"Well that explains a Lot." He sighed starting his car to drive away.

Later that day Billy was able to make it to the Harrington house hold. Instead of parking down the street, he parked in the driveway. Instead of climbing through the window of his girlfriends bedroom, he simply knocked the front door of her house. Which, unfortunately, the other Harrington answered. He and Steve just stared at one another for a moment.

"Hargrove."

"Harrington."

"What are you doing here?"

"I think you know why exactly I'm here, or you don't."

"I do know why you're here." Steve stated sternly.

"Then tell me, why am I here?" Billy gabbed at him with a smirk playing on his face.

"Can you guys stop having a dick measuring contest for once." Your voice was heard in a very much over it tone. "Get out of here Steve."

"But-" You stopped him from continuing.

"Eh, I don't wanna hear any more then I already have. You're being a Buttface." You sassed at him. "Now I would like to talk to my boyfriend."

Steve just rolled his eyes and sighed. Walking away from his enemy and his sister in the same door way. You turn your head back to Billy with a grin on your face.

"So what are you doing here, handsome."

"Well, I am here to see my girlfriend that I have to have a small chat about." His voice going a slight octave lower. Something that you loved.

"And what do you have to chat about?" You stilled teased at him.

"Well I made out with this gorgeous woman at lunch, and after I thought my day would go by like usual. But I had people staring at me all day. I didn't know why until I looked into the mirror to find that the exact pretty girl I was kissing left some marks on me." He explained to you. "Now I am at said pretty girls house to get a reason why she did that."

"Well I think she just wanted to have a bit of fun with you, if you ask me."

"Well as much as I love that, I think I would love to have some fun with her right now."

"Well you'er gonna have to wait on that, handsome." You said." Big Bro ain't to happy with me, I've been getting an ear full for the past hour."

"I can wait." He reassured. "I will always wait for you, gorgeous." You just smiled at him and dragged him into your house.

"Is he staying long?" Steve's distant voice was heard.

"Shut up Steve." You yelled out to him. "Like I said, ear full all day."

You and Billy just laughed at the situation. But at least you both can enjoy each others company in the end.

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I hope y'all enjoyed this. Sorry if it is short. I know I haven't been to active, writing wise, lately. I'm trying to get through school right now.

I will try to get more out for Boots and Trumpets, and Practically Magic later.

Thank you for reading.

[munsonson]

Untitled

Note(s): 18+ ONLY, Minors DNI, AFAB!Reader x Eddie Munson, SEX, Filthy Dialogue, Even Filthier Descriptive Lingo, Kind of Public Sex

"Pl-Please," you beg, your breasts heaving underneath you as he presses you harder into the shelf cluttered with cleaning supplies and filthy rags. Your hands find purchase on the shelf right underneath the first, occupied instead with storage bins and mop heads you accidentally knocked to the floor as the two of you moved in messy tandem. You let out a little squeak at a particularly harsh thrust that had you seeing stars.

He had your skirt bunched up against your lower back, clutched in his ringed fist as he bucked his hips furiously into yours, sure that the denim of his jeans he'd pulled down just below his cock were going to give your legs a searing burn, but you loved it. He had his face buried in your hair while his free hand gripped the shelf you were unwillingly resting your cheek on.

"God, so fucking wet," he snarls, almost in disgust, but you knew for a fact that wasn't true. He loved how wet you got for him, that you were practically swimming in your thin panties at just the thought of being bent over by him. "You hear that?" You do, the sickening squelch of his cock moving in and out of your abused hole the only other noise emitting from this damned janitor's closet aside from your quiet moans and his animalistic growls and grunts.

"So mad at you," Eddie sneers, and he's thrusting harder now if it were possible, his hips smacking into yours, so sure his balls were hitting your clit with every impact. "Why him, huh? Why'd you choose h-him? FUCK!"

You yelp as he grabs a fistful of your hair and drags your head back enough for him to suck dark, unforgiving marks into your throat. You knew now what had gotten him so worked up. In Biology, when called upon by your teacher, you'd selected a kid named Brian as your partner. He was top of the class, someone you were sure would help you get an A. You didn't think Eddie would take it in such a way but you were so glad he did.

"Eddieee, I...OOH!"

He'd taken his hand previously holding your skirt and instead began furiously rubbing little circles into your clit as he began to lose rhythm, getting too close to the end. Too soon. He didn't want this to end so soon, but how could he last in a pussy like yours? You felt so heavenly, he'd tell you. So tight and so warm and so fucking inviting. Any guy would kill to fuck your pussy but only he was allowed to, only Eddie, the freak of Hawkins.

"Fuck, fuck, hnnngh," he groans, emptying himself in you just as you climaxed from his fingers rubbing your clit. "You're gonna tell the teacher tomorrow you wanna switch partners."

"Maybe," you said instead, grinning at him, your throat already littered with purple marks. "Brian's gonna get me my A that I need to bring me my grade up. You barely attend the class as is."

"Teacher ain't got shit I'm interested in hearing." Eddie confesses, breathless as he pulls his pants back up over his hips, assisting you in pulling your panties back up your shaking thighs, giving your ass a sharp tap with his palm. "But if you want an A, I'll give you one. But come tomorrow, Brian's looking for someone else to partner up with. Or I'm not letting you cum."

And you knew he meant it.

[mentally-gone002]

lovers in the night

summary: steve sneaks into his girlfriends room at night in secret so that they can be together.

steve harrington x henderson!f!reader. secret relationship!!!!

can be read in its own, or with this part 2 here, and part 3 here

a/n: reader is dustin’s sister so obvi. she’s gonna have like curly hair but no color is specified. also i L O V E a good henderson!reader with steve!! like idk why but it’s just a great pair since steve and dustin are already my fav duo in the show!! i love them sm😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

———————————————————————

cicadas buzzed endlessly beyond the open window and cotton curtains swished back and forth like a chest heaving with slow breaths along with the late night wind. 

goosebumps rose on her bare arms as she sat with her back against her bed frame on the carpeted floor, slowly flicking through a book that dustin had forced into her hands earlier that day. it was actually really good, not that she didn’t trust her brother’s judgement on literature or anything, but some books he has lent her had been not worth the read. she should’ve read this earlier.

“hey,” a sharp whisper broke her focus on the words across the page and her eyes flew to the door. it was still closed. her eyes went back to the page, only to be interrupted by quiet tapping on glass. 

she turned her head and grinned widely at the barely visible sight of steve behind the glass. “what’re you doing here?” she hissed, still sporting a smile while she got up to place her book on her nightstand and then stand on her mattress and slide the window open wider. steve didn’t answer as he hoisted himself through the window which was far above the ground. he grunted and then fell through the window to land on his back on her bed, making her step back on the mattress with her hands covering her mouth to suppress a laugh. 

he sat up, huffing a little and pushing back his chestnut hair from his forehead as he watched her sit down beside him. “i missed you.” he answered and his hand snaked to hold the back of her neck, pulling her forward into a soft kiss. 

she laughed softly into it. “you saw me a few hours ago.” she whispered, trying to hint that they needed to be quiet. 

its been months they’ve been together and nobody knew that they were dating… yet. she was worried about how dustin would react, along with everyone else in his party; partially because they didn’t like steve until a few months ago. steve agreed with her, with some shock due to the fact that her brother and his friends only just started to like him, but wished he didn’t have to wait until they were alone to be as close as he wanted with her. 

steve shook his head slightly, honeyed eyes holding hers in an intimate stare. “i know, but we weren’t alone.” his fingers gently tangled in the hair on the back of her neck. “sorry dustin booted you to the backseat by the way.”

she chuckled at the remembrance. “it’s okay, he rides shotgun in my moms car too.” her voice was filled with fondness. “what isn’t okay is dustin almost catching us!” she whispered through a toothy grin because she can’t help but feel all giddy at the rush of secrecy with him. 

“well, what can i say? you looked really pretty.” steve whispers, leaning close to capture her lips with his again. he felt his heart race under his ribs the longer he kissed her.

she pulled away. “you can say ‘i’m sorry i almost jeopardized our secret relationship. it won’t happen again.’ or something like that.” her smile showed how she was teasing him while she spoke. 

steve shook his head, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “it won’t happen again.” he repeated back with a cheeky smile, playing along with her. 

she smiled back and brushed her curls back from her eyes. “good.” 

steve lolled his head to the side so he could just keep looking at her. he liked how her hair looked right now; it was all wild because she took it out of its previous style from earlier and didn’t seem to have tamed it. “how are you?” he wondered. 

she looked away from his eyes with an accompanied smile. her eyes landed on dustin’s book on the edge of her nightstand. “good. just enjoying the night, y’know?” she shrugged a little with a small grin. “dustin lent me a book earlier.” her eyes found steve’s again.

steve nodded and laid down on his back, stretching his arms above his head so that his hands bumped the wall. she stared at where his shirt had ridden up, the soft skin of his stomach was on display. “what’s it about?” he asked, looking over at where she was still sitting up. 

her body slowly settled beside steve’s before she answered. her head was resting on his chest. “it’s about a bunch of fantasy people going on an adventure.”

“is it the hobbit?” steve lifted his head a little to gaze down at her face turned on its side.

she looked up at him when he named the book just based from her description of it. “yeah, have you-“ a knock on her bedroom door had them both jumping in surprise to sit up.

“hey,” it was dustin. “can i come in?” he asked, voice slightly muffled by the door. 

steve looked at her and she put her index finger over her lips before pointing to her bed, intending for him to get under it. he did as she silently told him to do before she left walked to the door and opened it. “what’re you doing up this late?” she rubbed her hand to her eye, giving dustin the impression that he woke her up. he didn’t seem guilty as he walked passed her and into her bedroom, going to her closet and opening the doors. 

steve swallowed thickly, glad he didn’t hide there. it would’ve been cliche and embarrassing.

“i’m looking for batteries. my walkie died.” dustin explained, walking to look at the things littering the top of his sisters dresser after not finding any batteries. “jesus, why do you have so much jewelry?” he asked, lifting up a glass dish housing her rings. 

“i don’t have batteries, dustin.” she sighed and let her eyes slip to steve’s hiding place while dustin’s back was still to her. “why don’t you have spares anyway?” 

dustin faced her with a seemingly exhausted sigh. “i did, until i used them all. there’s been a lot going on, in case you forgot about the upside down.” he sassed with a tone. 

she rolled her eyes at him and gave her own exhausted sigh. “i didn’t, and like i said before, i don’t have batteries.” her eyes once again flashed down to the gap under her bed when she thought she heard steve shift or move around. 

dustin looked with her in confusion. “are you hiding a demo-dog?” he joked lightly. “why do you keep looking down there?” he stepped closer to her bed and she stiffened. 

“something probably just fell from how it was weirdly placed. you know… gravity.” nervous laughter ended her sentence. dustin cast her a look saying ‘you’re lying’ all over his face. he got down onto the floor on his hands and knees so that he could look under her bed. “dustin! get out of my room!” she hissed, kneeling on the floor beside him and tried, and failed, to moved him. 

he was too far into his investigation to be told what to do. he moved a box or two aside and then paused, redrawing his hand. “steve? what the hell are you doing under my sisters bed?” he asked, almost too loud. steve smiled with his teeth awkwardly and crawled out from under the bed to sit beside his (secret) girlfriend. dustin’s eyes traveled to his sister. “did you know he’s here?” 

she nodded. “yeah, he’s been here for a while.” her hand lifted to settle on steve’s shoulder. that was her way of silently telling him that it’s gonna play out fine. “why are you such a snoop?” that question was directed at dustin of course, who scoffed and stood up. 

“i’m not. i was checking for monsters so i don’t wake up tomorrow and find you dead.” he widened his eyes and shrugged, as if his reason was obvious from the start. he walked to the door after receiving nothing but an eye roll and her forceful ushering out oh her bedroom. “oh, and don’t like… do stuff.” he made a disgusted face at the thought. 

steve laughed with his hands over his face. he was still sitting on the floor. “we aren’t together, henderson.” steve covered. 

he nodded with half lidded eyes. “sure. and why would you be hiding under her bed then?” 

steve shrugged. “didn’t want the interaction with the other henderson. one’s enough.” 

she slapped the side of his head after she’d walked back to stand beside where he sat. her lips were pinned into a smile. “asshole.” 

dustin rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. “just be quiet.” and then he shut the door. 

steve stood up after the door shut and pulled her into him in a hug, still laughing slightly. “my hearts beating so fast.” he panted. “he knows.” 

“oh, he most definitely knows.” she nodded, pulling away. “might as well come out and tell them, but he’ll beat us to it with his radio system.” a shrug came from her shoulders. 

steve pursed his lips with a hum and a nod. “how much you wanna bet the group has bet on us?” he wondered. 

she blew out a breath in exasperation at the thought. “i can already see them all exchanging money with stupid smiles.” her gentle laughter filled the room. 

————————————————————————

dustin didn’t knock before he opened his sisters bedroom door the following morning, and he wasn’t surprised to see that steve was still there. 

steve was flush against her as they both slept on well through the morning, his arms were wound tightly around her waist to keep her from moving away. 

dustin only shook his head with a sigh and maybe the smallest smile before leaving the two alone. he wasn’t going to tell the party about it, not until his sister was ready to because he respects her. but the party does already think that steve and her are together, so it won’t come as a shock. 

he’ll let him sleep a bit longer before he interrupts the peace. 

[pileofboneswrites]

LOVER BOY_headcanons.strangerthings

dating eddie munson headcanons

SUMMARY — relationship eddie headcanons

A/N — i just wanna say a quick thank you to everyone who liked my other eddie headcanons post, i wasn't expecting all the love, but i appreciate it immensely :))

MASTERLIST | BACK

when he likes someone, he thinks he's being really subtle, but he's not

him, a stuttering, nervous wreck; "uh hey, cool shirt"

you, deadpan; "it's your shirt, that you gave me to wear, because you thought i'd look cute in it"

always tries to impress you in silly ways

"wanna see how fast i can run?"

"bet i can jump and hit that sign without running"

"i caught you a squirrel because you said they were cute that one time"

is touch starved

as such, he will always be touching you in some capacity; hand on your knee while in class, hand on your thigh or fingers interlaced with yours while driving, he will sit on you if there's nowhere for him.

when you hug him, kiss him, or cuddle with him he will hold on and refuse to let you go until you're late, like really late, you'd have to leave ten minutes ago late.

is big on pet names when you're alone, but mostly calls you by your last name or a shortened version of your name when in public

he's big on baby, sweetheart, dollface.

angel and prince/princess are reserved for when he's fucked up royally, or you're sad or sleepy.

will touch everything you own

perfume/cologne sitting on your dresser? sprayed himself in the face with it the first time he picked it up, but really liked how it smelled so he puts a spitz on every time you leave him alone in your room. just spent the day at the pool and he needs to shower at yours? he will use your shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion and even your deodorant "do you want me to stink? :(". every time he comes in he finds something new to play with. old stuffie under your bed? he's carrying it around/hugging it/holding it until he leaves. trinkets on the top of your bed frame? he'll make them talk to each other when he's bored.

has a hard time sleeping when you're not close

he and sleep have rarely ever been on the same page, so he finds things to do to occupy his time, so when he's in a relationship that usually means he's dragging you along with him; be it going for a swim at 2am at lovers lake, a quick trip to the gas for snacks, or just straight up falling ungracefully through your window and crawling into bed with you to try and grab a couple hours of sleep (while simultaneously scaring the shit out of you because you were already sleeping).

because of the above, he will constantly nap around you while you're hanging out

you're his safe space, he spends most of his time in your presence passed out; laying on his back on the floor with his legs tossed over the side of your bed with his feet tucked under your thigh while you study, arms crossed over his chest while you're head's in his lap as you read out loud to him – he swears he's awake but every so often he lets out a soft snore, sitting on the couch watching a romcom with his head on your shoulder as he struggles to keep his eyes open, literally any time you touch his head/hair he's out like a light.

100% is glued to your side and tells everyone you're his best friend as well as his gf/bf

he goes on errands with you and spends 99% of his free time with you, he drags you along to band practice — which you usually use as an opportunity to feed baked goods to his bandmates (who absolutely adore you for it), when he's working you usually sit around with him passing him tools as he needs them — "uh need 9/16 wrench–" and it's already in your hand like you read his mind.

when you're not around, brags about you to anyone who will listen to him, and carries a picture (that he switches out for newer ones he takes) of you in his wallet that he shows off constantly — "look how cute they are" "my girlfriend/boyfriend is hotter".

writes songs about you

sometimes he'll write them just for himself, or for your ears only recording them on a tape just for you to have a reminder of how much he loves you.

you better believe that wayne loves you for being a good influence on him

you make him eat all breakfast, lunch & dinner — before you he would forget to eat and usually pumped himself full of caffeine only, you get him a reuseable water bottle (which you bribe him to carry it around and actually drink from it) — to his credit he now drinks at least one full bottle, you make him wear sunscreen & a hat on sunny days, waterproof footwear and jacket on rainy/snowy days (he's shocked when he doesn't get sick as often).

at first wayne was wary of you, unsure of whether your intentions were genuine or if you were going to pull one over on eddie — which disappeared the first time he came home from work and saw you too cuddled up on the couch watching one of eddie's favourite movies (it was the way you were staring at him as he shared his favourite parts or something he read about it, or a fact about the filming/production — wayne tells this story at your wedding all teary eyed about his eddie being all grown up and so very obviously loved).

takes photos of you all the time

cutesy date night photos, spicy half-naked photos (or just straight up naked naked), you sleeping, you making an ugly face, you mid-sneeze, you smiling, he has it all caught on film and he loves each and every photo so much.

total softie for you and you alone

you've gotten him to do things he's straight up refused to do for his friends, and even wayne

does literally anything you ask, and even sometimes you don't have to ask, he just does it because he knows it'll make you happy and that's all he strives for, you being happy.

[missmarveledsblog]

Dustin's got a sister? ( Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader)

summary : friday where DND nothing would stop that except the discovery of Dustin Hendersons older sister of course which leds to eddie wondering if he was wrong about the whole love at first sight thing being crap .

warnings : fluffy fast burn , mutual pinning , eddie being a simp for sure . picture doesn't represent the reader it was just a fic cover i made

Friday meant one thing to Eddie munson and that was Hellfire night . The club were beginning what he could only describe as his best campaign yet ,the loud roars and cheer or cries filled the basement of Dustin Henderson since the older boys graduated it became the new spot . What Eddie didn't know was that the boys were not the only ones in the house as the music upstairs caused them to halt and look to the owner of said basement in confusion .

 " It's just my sister , ignore her" he shrugged, wanting to continue but the sudden excitement of Lucas and Mike only made the older boy more curious .

" sister since when do you have a sister" Eddie almost challenged. " since my mom and dad you know and then she was born" Dustin's head tilted knowing he'd mentioned her before .

"and She's smoking hot" Lucas blurted out for Mike Wheeler to nod eagerly in agreement.

" How come we've never seen her around?" Gareth asked .

" because she went to a different school and usually she was with her asshole boyfriend but they broke up also she hangs out with Steve and robin, she also busy with college stuff " Dustin looked around the table seeing all their confused faces.

" Wait, I've never seen her when I hang out with them" Eddie looked at the boy .

" that's because she was with her boyfriend ,I literally just said that" he rolled his eyes.

" hey dusty bun you down there .... Oh shit sorry i forgot you had company" all their eyes landed on the woman standing there hair wrapped in a towel and dressed in shorts and tank top .

" hey Y/N" Lucas waved dreamingly . 

" Hey Sinclair," she smiled . 

" Hey wanna join," Mike asked.

" I can't tonight. I got a paper due on Monday, just came down to see if Dustin ate , but now the question expands , "Do you guys want pizza?" she smiled bright towards them, eddie could have sworn he had drool coming out of his mouth .

" yeah totally would eat pizza with you" Jeff chin resting in his hands . " Ok pepperoni would be a safe choice right" she looked, seeing them all nod . " ok i shall call when it's here " she ran up the stairs, cheeks heated suddenly aware of her attire and the eyes of the boys roaming her body . 

" How the hell is that your sister?" gareth asked, totally in awe .

 " Told you , smoking hot" Lucas beamed proudly.

" You asked her to join, why ?" Eddie almost whispered not ready for the answer in fair of his mind short circuiting even more that it was . " because she's the reason that we know how to play" Mike whispered back, sending the group of boys almost into a group of school girls fawning .

 " So you're telling me that the smoking hot goddess of a woman is a nerd like us" .

 " Can you all please stop calling my sister hot?" Dustin grimaced, suddenly regretting offering his basement for the Hellfire club . when the music changed and the familiar riffs flooded his ear drums . 

" Is that?... YOUR HOT SISTER LIKES METAL" Eddie almost roared across the table . 

" Is it too late to quit hellfire?" Dustin groaned.

It seemed the campaign was forgotten about after half an hour of questioning. Dustin Henderson was never more grateful for the pizza man's arrival but when she told them to come up he was almost trampled as his friends tried getting up the stairs .

" holy shit you guys must be hungry , no need to panic i got more than enough " she laughed seeing them pushing each other out of the way . 

" Totally starving" gareth smiled brightly.

" ok well plates are there and help yourself" she pointed to the counter .

" ladies first" Eddie smiled, arm outstretched . 

" Thank you" she moved, grabbing her plate and pizza before heading to the sofa. " I just stuck on halloween if you guys wanna join" she called eyes on the screen not seeing the pushing and shoving happening in the kitchen before eddie smiled victoriously beside her. " I love this movie" he winked . 

" I literally only started it so you all aren't missing much ... wait what about the campaign" her head tilted as they all sighed in content.

" Apparently due to hormones it's over" Dustin grumbled sitting on the other side of her . 

" Shit sorry that was my fault if I'm being too loud I can go to my room" she offered only for a chorus of no's and don't to fill the room . " you're fine, really we can do it another time apparently" Dustin smiled seeing the worry on her face. Before anyone else could say anything the doorbell went off making her run out to see who it was totally forgetting she invited steve and robin over.

" hey if you can find a place to sit" she led the two in.

" Hey guys," the three kids called.

"Hey Harrington man , nice to see you , how come you never mentioned the sweetheart of a sister Dustin had before" Eddie smiled yet glaring at his friend.

" because Dustin told me not to" he shrugged, heading off to the kitchen .

 "Do I embarrass you or something?" She turned to her brother.

" No just you were with that douche before and i didn't want him embarrassing me" he lied easily . 

" That's a good point," Robin nodded .

 " I hated that guy so much" Steve agreed eagerly as he handed Robin her plate as he sat beside Dustin .

 " Ok enough about my ex and let's watch the movie" she huffed, letting her damp nearly dry hair out of the towel . As soon as the lights went out all their attention went to the movie playing well mostly to the movie. Eddie's attention did try to stick to the screen but it often shifted to the girl sitting beside him. wondering how the hell he wasn't a puddle in the chair or if the beating of his heart was audible given how fast it was , was he sweating cause sure as hell felt like it . He watched the light of tv shine on her face, her relaxed state or... shit she grabbed his hand , why was he short circuiting over a girl grabbing his hand . 

" Sorry that part always make me jump" she whispered soft laugh spilling from her pillow plump lips , he could of sworn he saw a blush on her face but wasn't sure giving the limited light .

" if you need to grab it again feel free too" he whispered back smiling so wide showing off his dimples .

" thank you munson" now he was hoping more parts would make her jump . her hand in his throughout the movie it turned out his campaign wasn't the highlight of this Friday after all.

Once the movie ended Dustin hit the lights making them all groan at the sudden intrusive brightness . except the light snores filled out the room making them all turn to see the older henderson and eddie passed out cold her head on his shoulder and his hand holding hers .

 " Awhh that's so cute" Robin cooed, hiding her amusement.

" Damn it, I was gonna ask her out " Gareth growled, making everyone turn to the boy . " I said that out loud huh?" he stood rubbing the back of his neck .

 " Very loud," Steve snorted . "Come on i can drop you guys home" he stretched as the all looked at him wide eyed.

" Seriously "king"Steve Harrington is going to let us be seen with him" Jeff almost gasped out.

" yeah yeah dont cream your pants , come let them sleep" he ushered the gang of still shocked boys out the door. Only for Dustin to slam it shut behind them waking the two .

 "Where is everyone?" she asked, confused.

" yeah i remembered more people being here" Eddie rubbed his eyes . 

" Steve's dropping them home since you two were all cuddled up in sleepland" . 

"Shit i'll go clean up and head out before your mom comes home '' Eddie yawned and stretched ready to head back down to the basement . 

"Just stay, she's not home till Sunday," Dustin yelled, heading down to his own room . 

" If you want to, I mean we can watch another movie," she smiled nervously was he making her uncomfortable or was it something else.

" Yeah i could totally stay, I got some clothes in my van , let me grab them" he beamed with excitement.

" I'm going for a smoke so i'll come out with you" she grabbed her shoes and jacket pulling out the carton of cigarettes and lighter . 

" Lead the way princess" he opened the door letting her walk out first. The night's crisp air hitting them , she stood on the porch as he ran down grabbing the backpack out of his van given his original plan was to sleep at jeff's for the night so wayne could have a night's sleep in his room for once. When he looked back to see she was sitting on what he called the outdoor sofa to rile Dustin up, her eyes looking up at the sky lost in the stars above even then she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen . The slow exhale of smoke and she turned to smile at his approaching figure .

 " You cold, i can give you my jacket" he was already going to take it off pulling out his own cigarettes.

" no it's not too chilly tonight ,it actually a nice night" she mused moving so he could sit beside her.

"So Dustin mentioned you went to a different school. How come" he asked, wanting to know everything and anything about the woman sitting beside him . 

" You don't remember me huh?" she asked, confusing him completely.

" we actually went to the same school til i'd��say middle school i changed schools because tommy hagan kinda made my life hell so my mom moved me to a different school since the principle wouldn't do anything about it , i was fat kid with curly ass hair , he called me sparky cause of this'' She shrugged the jacket showing the lightning bolt scar on her arm Making him remember completely who she was.

" shit yeah i remember, i also remember you punching him when he picked on other kids" he mused.

" another reason i had to move schools, the irony of letting myself being their victim and yet seeing ready when i seen them torment someone else " she snorted, tapping the ash of her cigarette . 

" Shit i would've never pictured you and Dustin to be siblings," he chuckled.

" Well back then my parents were still married and I wasn't always Henderson" She pointed out.

" Well that also checks out, still i've always thought that scar was metal , how you get it?" . 

"Wasn't struck by lightning sadly that would of been cooler no i burned it trying to make my own shield" she giggled. "

That's still metal in my books" he chuckled. 

" I guess your right I mean my mom didn't think so in the ER but hey it was good shield think it's still in the garage" throwing the cigarette away , sneaking a quick glance at the most adorable and probably hottest guy she ever met sitting beside her .

" you in college now or ? " he asked .

" yeah just an hour drive away, studying nursing what about you ? " she turned. Her eyes made him completely weak at the knee's .

" apprentice mechanic " she noticed how his smiled didn't quite reach his eyes when he said it .

" well if you ever get hurt on the job call me, I'll come nurse you back to heath " she nudging him playfully there it was a real smile on his pretty face.

" come on we head in or I'll be the nurse when you catch some flu or cold being out here " he stood holding his hand out to help her up .

" wanna was nightmare on elm Street" she asked.

" of course and if you get scared you can hold my hand " he winked as they walked into the house.

" I mean it is scary movie dare I say even terrifying you might get sick of me holding your hand" she teased heading to the other side of the room to grab the tape and a blanket .

" never would I do such a thing " he held his hand over his heart those damn dimples that made her heart skip a beat or the glint of the rings as he held his hand over his heart.

" could you put the movie in , I'll grab the snacks and some drinks " she scurried of the kitchen . Putting the movie on pause before he called to say he was putting some pyjamas on before it got started .

When he came in she had snacks pile on top of each other along with the soda . He could of sworn he caught her checking him out but brushing it off instantly.

" ready" she lifted the blanket up for him to join .

" born ready darling " he hit the lights as the second movie of the night started playing he suddenly felt the,warmth of her palm in his . " just incase I get to scared " she winked now he was one who was grateful for lack of lights cause he was sure he was beet red now.

" better safe the sorry " he whispered his voice almost cracking in the nervous manner of possibly the hottest most beautiful girl he'd met holding his hand ... his goddamned hand . the two say eyes locked on screen itching to look at the person at their side . She inched her way closer as the movie played when jumpscare came on she couldn't help bury her head In his chest . The smell of his cologne and cigarette filled her sense as she felt the vibrations of his laugh as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I'll keep you safe princess " she could feel the almost cocky grin in his words feeling her little plan worked .

" thank you eddie my hero " she cooed looking up through her lashes making his gulp audibly leaning up and a peck to his lips, he was sure to die in his spot . A victory smile she kept her head on his chest while his arm was wrapped around her , she could hear the now steady beating of his heart as he gotten comfortable in the new position his hand rubbing up and down her back . Wasn't long til the two got way to comfortable and feel asleep in each others arms to content to even care .

[belokhvostikova]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐎𝐮𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Your secret fling with Eddie Munson hadn't gone entirely under wraps, particularly to the know-it-all, Dustin Henderson. With the help of Robin and Steve, the three conspire to reveal the truth, resulting in two of the most awkward people going on a date together...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, slight crying, alcohol consumption, awkwardness, insecurities, closeted sexuality, implied coming out, secret relationship, and some explicit sexual content: fondling, mention of porn, mention of oral, and unprotected vaginal sex (fairly minor, not the focal point).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | This piece has literally been sitting in my Google Docs since June 26th, because when rewatching Friends, I though it would be a cute idea for a fic, so you'll see a lot of lines and parallels from the episode (season 5, episode 14). It's devastatingly unfortunate Matthew Perry passed when I was finishing this up. So, in memory of him and a toast to friendship, here is this fic. Be safe, appreciate life, and enjoy <3 I love you all.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

“Did you guys see that?!” A pointed finger of accusation was targeted against Eddie Munson, completely oblivious to his knowledge. 

Steve Harrington had grimaced at the mush that was once a solid cheeseburger residing inside the slobbery mouth of Dustin Henderson, as the kid spoke with such urgency, clearly unperturbed by his lack of food etiquette and social decorum. But such skills could not be expected much from Dustin Henderson. That is unless, of course, an actual adult of authority had been in the presence, to which a gummy smile was expected to assuage whatever insulting comment about the need for manners that “The Hair” would proffer in disgust. 

It was the second Saturday in a row that Steve’s been bombarded by the abuse of the children to let his residence be used for a pool party. He doesn’t understand how exactly he lost the backbone to say no to four teenagers, but the phenomenon had manifested into reality, and at the very least, a compromise was made for the young adults—of whatever weird mesh of a friend group this was between older teens, younger teens, crossover shebang—to tag along for a hot afternoon of relaxation.

“Yeah, Eddie’s hair totally looks like a wet mop.” Max Mayfield snickered between her sips of a twisty-straw-in-lemonade action. In truth, seeing lushes locks of black stick to his face and neck was quite amusing, especially when made worse as the metalhead re-calibrated like a dog, shaking his hair as a means of getting rid of the chlorine water that weighed down his head. One that could always get a good chuckle out of anyone. 

“No! Not that! That!” The ghost trail that was of Eddie Munson walking inside the Harrington villa, as pointed to by Dustin as a means of evidence, did little to provide any context of support to whatever it was he was avowing about this time. In many instances, those close to him knew to just let his diatribes continue without interference. The kid’s standards were impossibly high; people’s mistakes of simple wrongdoings were always criticized by his superiority. ‘“Oh, I’m just gonna head to the bathroom real quick.’” Dustin mimicked, mocking the voice of his Dungeon Master with dramatic gestures of flailing arms. A testament surely to get his character killed in next week’s campaign, should he have been caught by the man. 

“Yeah, Dustin, that’s kinda, like, a natural occurrence in life.” Mike Wheeler deadpanned with a patronizing voice to annoy, as it’d been known to exasperate his friend. It’d even gained a couple laughs from the lounging bodies strewn about in the breadth of the gardened backyard. 

Lucas Sinclair had jumped at the opportunity to prod further, barking a deafening cackle. “Yeah, remember that bomb you dropped after the school’s attempt to serve enchiladas?” He slapped his knee with joy. “You had the janitor running from the stalls!”

That one really got a good laugh out of everyone. But before Max could even venture at an attempt to cater for further details, Dustin struck on offense to defend his honor from the sharings of his intimate privacy, definitively emphasized with an agitated tone of vexation. “No, no! You pinky swore that you’d never speak of it! Do I need to tell everyone what Erica found under your bed?!” Old reliable; blackmail, the bargain of a lifetime.

“The hell is under your bed, man?” Steve pondered, flipping a seared patty with a slab of American cheese ready to go. If it was anything like what was under his bed, he’d surely want no one to know.

“Nothing!”

“What I thought.” Dustin muttered with a glare, as Lucas shrunk in his chair to evade any potential threats of further questions that lay on the tips of his friends’ nosy tongues. “But again, that is not what I am talking about.”  

Always the civil one out of the Wheeler clan, Nancy reassuringly stepped up to support her brother’s friend in need, settling everyone down. “We’re sorry, Dustin, go ahead.” It was to be expected she’d gain a heartfelt thank you from Dustin Henderson, himself, once the debacle simmered and the turbulence had passed. Nancy Wheeler always did have a special place in the kid’s big heart, particularly after the caring gesture of the 1984 Hawkins Middle’s Snow Ball Dance. 

“How can you all be so blind?!” Dustin seethed. “You’re telling me none of you find it even a little suspicious that Eddie just so happened to go to the 'bathroom' right after Y/N’s excuse of wanting to 'change,' like, hello?!” He huffed. “They’re totally screwing!”

Dustin Henderson felt devastatingly vanquished when a unanimous vote of disbelieving what’s hurtled his way with no mercy. He felt useless- undermined. Like the bag of Fritos left behind when children would rather fight over Doritos or Sour Cream n’ Onion Lays, rather than appreciate the artistry of a simple corn chip, left alone and forgotten until a last resort when moms took too long to make dinner; never to be cherished in the dark corner of the bulk size box of Frito-Lays. Of course, they wouldn’t believe him. They didn’t witness what he had to tragically witness. He heard it so vividly. So hauntingly vivid. Sometimes, it kept the poor boy up at night. Last week- last Friday- Hellfire’s Friday, such an exhilarating night now befouled by the auditory version of what he learned in the ninth grade compulsory course of sexual education. 

How naive of him to believe your actions stemmed from the kindness of your heart; offering your chauffeuring abilities to pick up the freshman after their campaigns, sauntering inside with a sickeningly sweet smile to pair with your tender greetings, and always wanting to lend a helping hand to the Dungeon Master, because “it just seems like so much to clean.” Puh-lease! The signs had been flashing in his face. The ulterior motives screaming in his ear. What sane person deliberately chooses to waste their time picking up three boys revved up with excitement and sweat after the thrills of Dungeons and Dragon? Jesus, shit, it was Friday night, don’t you have any plans?! Yeah, plans to stick your tongue down their Dungeon Master’s throat. Tainting the sanctity of Hellfire with your debauchery. 

Dustin Henderson had forgotten his dice. Sometimes, he wishes he would have just let the damn things go. 

“God, baby, a quickie- let’s just do it right here real quick.” Eddie’s begging voice vibrated behind the closed door of the drama department, seeping through the open cracks beneath the door, all for Dustin’s ears to hear. 

And he tried to give him the benefit of the doubt- the kid really did. Pet names were far from unusual by use of Eddie Munson. The one instance the Byers dropped back into Hawkins during Spring Break, it was no doubt Will the Wise had to get a taste of the new man running the show, and when Eddie had given Byers the innocent compliment of being such a sweetheart, the kid blushed into oblivion, stuttering a thank you in return. Hell, not to mention the infamous “big boy” that followed Steve Harrington around wherever the man took on motherly duties. So, Dustin brushed it off. But the moment had quickly transpired into something cringe worthy to the fourteen-year-old who didn’t know better. It should have been his cue to run, but the fiery design of his dice cost him six bucks of his chores earning, and they weren’t about to be discarded, as if the sweat of his forehead meant nothing from an afternoon of bending over the mop bucket to clean the kitchen floors. 

There are moments at night when he speculates if this is the doings of the heavenly man above that his beloved, Suzie Bingham, always mentioned; punishing Dustin in consequence of eavesdropping on a private matter that surely was not intended to be heard. But can you really call it eavesdropping when you were merely trying to retrieve your dice? No! You can’t!

“They’re already waiting for me in the car.” You whined against his lips. The figurine that was poking your hip was the last thing accounted for in your mind, as Eddie had showcased you onto the wooden table of the prop room. Lips smeared against yours, his hand had squeezed a chunk of your meaty thigh, bringing you forth to keep you in close company. “We can’t.” Can’t what, huh? Find the dignity to do it outside of school grounds?! Freaks!

“Little shits.” Dustin had appallingly gasped at the insult, feeling the stabbing wound of betrayal hit him in the chest as you laughed along, hand clutched over his heart to appease the pain of such affliction. The dramatics. “Come to my place after.” Eddie delicately kissed loving pecks to your lips. “That way,” his finger trailed up your thigh, “we can have our alone time, and I can finally get a taste of that pretty pu-”

Dustin Henderson knew to run away at that point. Safe to say, the kid never got his dice back.

“Are you insane?!” Motherly hand on the hip, Dustin didn’t appreciate Steve’s disciplinary tone of voice, sounding too much like his mother, Ms. Claudia Henderson, for his liking, as everyone agreed with Harrington’s proclaimed delusion against the boy. “Munson doesn’t have the skills to screw, let alone someone as hot as her.” He chuckled in disbelief.

Oh, boy, was he wrong.

“Mm, j-just like that, uh!” Your pelvis pummeled into the sink, tainting the precisely picked pristine porcelain by Mrs. Harrington, herself, as Eddie rutted his hips into the dampness that was your bikini bottoms to chase a release that was on the brink of snapping.

It was your fault he claimed; prancing in a top and bottom that left little to the imagination. Accusations of your outfit being chosen to taunt him were thrown your way, and your faux innocence only cemented it further. “Fuck- fucking take it—ugh, s-shit—take this fucking cock!” How could this ever be seen as a punishment when your boyfriend was lighting your body on fire with the ecstasy of abusing your g-spot?

Perhaps having sex in the bathroom of your mutual friend was far from the ethical rules of friendship, but the act of secrecy had bred a burning excitement that neither of you could contain. And, given the fact that four weeks ago, Steve had poked fun at Eddie’s singleness—not that Steve had any room to joke, though, at least, “The King” was relishing in the funness of meaningless hookups, something Eddie surely didn’t partake in, he lovingly had you—so seeking revenge in fucking his hot girlfriend in his friend’s bathroom had stirred something menacing in Eddie’s head to truly not give a single care in what he was doing was wrong. 

“Yes! Yes! I’m gonna cum, fuck!” Fingers tightening on the edge of the sink, your heart soared watching the reflection of Eddie’s mouth panting with want, as he fucked your pussy, ready to release his load deep inside. His hands had snaked to grab handfuls of your bouncing tits, groaning as he felt your nipples poke through the coldness of your wet bikini top.  

His hips harshly snapped against your rippling ass. “Cum all over my cock- shit! C’mon, pretty girl, fucking soak me- take all o’ me!” It barely felt as though he was pulling out, merely drilling in deeper and deeper. “I’m gonna cum- fuck, fuck, fuck, fu-”

“They are totally screwing!” The curls of Dustin Henderson’s head were on the verge of being ripped out in frustration; all that work he so earnestly dedicated night and day to maintain the silky bounce was about to be all for nothing. “They are! I heard them!”

Wrong choice of words. “You were listening to them screw?!” Robin gagged, triggering an onslaught of ew’s and perv’s- well, really, Max Mayfield had been the only one calling her friend a perv, doing it in the relaxation of her lounging chair, teasing behind her newly gifted heart-shaped sunglasses. 

“No! No!” Dustin shouted in clarification. “I wasn’t listening! I heard them talking about it!” He agonized. “They’ve been doing it for at least a week! Behind our backs!”

“Oh!” Max ventured. “Let’s bet, I say they’ve been engaged for four months, and are pregnant!” She heckled, now clearly just taking the piss out of him. 

“Has the water gone from your ears to your brain?” Robin laughed in his face. Surely the kid was mistaken, right? Aside from her personal himbo—Steve hated the nickname—you and Nancy Wheeler had become her newfound best friends. You know, a united front against the boys, girl talk, the whole shebang about girl code? Secrets weren’t a thing between your three! Granted, Robin, herself, was harboring a pretty large secret that only her himbo knew of, but that was different! Boys were nothing, she would gladly hear about all her friends’ boy problems, indulging in the drama of long distance or whatever the hell there was to complain about, but girls?! Yeah, that was, uh, that was just something- a topic still unbreached… at least, until she was ready.

“Fine!” The boy heaved, bailing out on defending his stance any further. “You guys don’t wanna believe, that’s just fine.” He snided. “But when they come back, and Y/N hasn’t changed out of her bathing suit, you won’t be laughing now!” Dustin Henderson ended his tirade with an embittered bite to his burger, dramatically dropping into his pool chair. 

They’d all learn soon, and bow down to him. 

So now, everyone waited. Waited for the fateful moment that would either prove Dustin Henderson right or wrong. And unfortunately- for you and Eddie, at least, your steamy escapade on the sink of the Harrington bathroom had left you too dazed and forgetful in the post-orgasmic bliss that was heavy breaths and loving touches of aftercare to keep up with the said excuse of “changing out of wet clothes” that got you alone with Eddie Munson in the first place. So when you marched out, glowing and relaxed—exactly two minutes and thirty-four seconds after Eddie’s “bathroom break” (so thoughtfully executed)—in the same damp bikini that had your secret boyfriend riled up to begin with, everyone gasped. 

“What?” You looked around confused. 

Unbeknownst to you, Dustin Henderson took a cheesy bite of his burger, loudly sipping a carbonated gulp of his cold Coke, ready to snap his fingers for another round of meals for his peasant friends to fetch. 

He was right. 

-

Robin Buckley confirmed it next. 

That Monday to come, Robin was staggering over the words of Dustin Henderson, and trying to piece the evidence presented to understand what was transpiring in your double life. The events after your return from “changing” left you confused by the jarring stares of six pairs of eyes testing you. Nancy, with the softest approach, had questioned you on the lack of new clothes on your body, to which your knight in shining armor—or accomplice—stepped up to save you from the army of prodding friends. “A knot in my hair, yeah, I distracted her to help me get a knot out of my hair.” Sure, Eddie, sure. 

During the uproarious minutes of lunchtime, you’d been ready to get an afternoon break from school to fork through Hawkins High’s poor excuse as to what constitutes consumable food, when the sudden scrutiny from Robin Buckley began. And, my god, was she persistent. 

In the comical marching band she suited, Robin Buckley had rushed her attempt to the first approach. “Hey, Robs. You think I can borrow your notes for Civics, I-”

“So, I hear Jonathan’s coming back from California next week!” Something about rashly eating the served cut peaches seemed to play up to the normal act Robin was going for, but truthfully, it just made you eye her strange behavior weirdly.

“Oh.” You accepted the out-of-nowhere information. Maybe you won’t do so good on Mr. Vortroski’s test on Supreme Court cases as you originally thought. “That’s great for Nance-”

“Isn’t it?!” The enthusiasm she was exerting was truly taking it over the top. But Robin Buckley had a heart for caring, and perhaps the excitement for her friend was really bubbling up today. “Nancy said they’ve been planning, like, a lot of dates, you know, to catch up on lost time?” You casually nodded along. “Single dates, double dates… and then I was thinking, hey!” She perked. “Y/N’s young and good looking! She’s probably seeing someone! So are you, I don’t know, seeing someone? Anyone? Tall, dark hair? Anyone?”

“Uh…” Yeah, maybe the hastiness of Robin’s impetuous nature wasn’t the best route to go with. “No, um, no I’m not seeing anyone.” You gave a tight-lipped smile. “Nance and Jonathan are gonna have to find someone else to double date with- oh, maybe Steve! What’s that girl's name he’s been seeing, Brenda? Beatrice? Actually, you know what, it’ll probably be really awkward to ask your ex-boyfriend on a double date with your current bo-”

“You’re seriously not seeing anyone?!” Robin’s brows furrowed with frustration. You were lying to her face- you were lying straight to your best friend’s face! “Nobody? No one?” You begrudgingly shook your head. “No thing?”

“Robin,” you chuckled, “is there something you want to tell me?” There were lots of things Robin Buckley wanted to tell you. Like, for starters, the newfound revelation that she likes how she looks with mascara, after you left yours on the dresser of her bedroom during your sleepover two weeks ago. She had no plans of returning it back to you, either. Or, possibly the fact that Bridget—the actual name of Steve’s newest lover—stole his Farrah Fawcett hairspray- or the fact that Steve uses Farrah Fawcett hairspray. Maybe the other thing, as in the strange occurrence that happens to her heartbeat whenever Vickie from chemistry happens to be around. Or, the other other thing, like the fact that she spent an obscene amount of minutes staring at cover of “Scissoring with Seduction” starring Roxie Rockett and Viola Diamond, after organizing the adult films section at Family Video- actually, scratch that, she’d never tell a soul about that, not even Steve Harrington. 

“Is there something you want to tell me?” She shot back with fervency. 

“No…?” Your questioning answer had your friend igniting her dramatic flare, slumping in her seat with a defeated huff. Dustin Henderson would surely be owed a duly apology. At this point, you’d like to say this weirded you out, but you lived in Hawkins, Indiana. You’ve seen weirder. 

Evidently not sufficed with your response, your friend sat up onto perched elbows. “Y/N, you know you can tell me anything, right?” A sincere approach. Undoubtedly better. “Like, you don’t have to be afraid to tell me stuff. I won’t judge or anything.” Robin solemnly smiled at you. 

Your tender hand squeezed her arm. “I know.” You beamed. “I hope you know that the same goes for you, Robs. If you ever have anything you need to tell me, I’ll always be here to listen to you. Probably give you way better advice than Stevie.” You both chuckled at the expense of Steve Harrington. Robin Buckley understood the feeling of not being ready for the world to know, because knowing would change the dynamics of life, and having the world suddenly perceive you in a way they never have before was scary. 

Having the world hate you for the tender love you caressed your partner with was terrifying. 

You’d tell her when you were ready, just as she would with you. 

With a nod to her head, she patted your hand. “You know, I asked Steve once on tips to upgrade my look, and he legit told me to do my eyebrows like Pamela Anderson.” 

“The himbo, himself, is too unknowledgeable to know that Miss Anderson is the only one capable of pulling off the blonde bombshell look. Though, I would love to see him with pencil brows and blue eyeshadow.” You both laughed, before you reached over to pinch her chin. “Plus, your beautiful self doesn’t need any changing, Robs. Anyone would be lucky to wake up next to it.”

Yeah, she’d simply tell you when she was ready, just as you would with her.

By three o’clock, Robin Buckley had been worn down by the insufferable compulsion that was Mr. Heizer’s fifth period calculus class. With the last day of school being around the corner, Robin wondered what warranted Heizer’s balding head to be so miserable that he felt the need to subject his students with the abuse of derivatives. Trudging her feet against the pavement of the Hawkins High parking lot, Steve Harrington had came into view, where he brandished himself atop the hood of his car. Not the most irregular of sights, given the systemic routine of drop off and pick-up that had been structured for Monday through Friday, though today, Dustin Henderson had managed to find Steve’s BMW through the array of parked cars, and was found yapping his ear off. 

So sorely critical-looking, Robin couldn’t help but tiredly chuckle. “What’s with the wrinkles, kid?” She approached.

Dustin huffed, letting his arms dramatically drop to his side in desperation. “Steve won’t go along with my plan!”

“What are you even doing here, Dustin, isn’t your mother, like, first in line at the car riders pick-up?” She laughed. 

Steve exasperated. “He waved off his poor mother, like the lunatic he is, just to track me down and tell her I was giving him a ride!” He answered, propelling Dustin to gasp with a snide.

“So we can talk about the plan!” Dustin provoked the Italian—that he probably didn’t actually have—within him, as his loose fist shook in Steve’s vicinity. 

“What plan?” Robin interjected. 

“The plan to expose Y/N and Eddie!” Dustin stressed. 

“Eddie and Y/N are not screwing.” Steve deadpanned. “What happened Saturday was just… some fluke coincidence, not proof to anything, okay? So let it go, Dustin. Just face it, you were wrong.” He chuckled a very much unappreciated chuckle in Dustin’s face. 

“I am not wrong! I know what I heard! How many times do I have to be right on the money for you all to just trust me?!” Neither Steve or Robin appreciated the numerous stares the freshman was gathering from leaving classmates and faculty. 

“Okay, just calm down, alright.” Robin shushed. “You're right-”

“Ha!”

“But I don’t think we should do anything.” Dustin heaved, scowling at Robin as if she just committed sacrilege. 

“Are you crazy? Of course, we should totally do something!” Dustin retorted. “This is big news! Two of our best friends are dating! You know what this means?! I could have parents, Robin, and you know I don’t have a dad, do you really want to be the reason I never have a dad?” A pointed finger targeted her. 

Her hand worked swiftly to smack his accusing finger away. “Eddie is not your dad, Christ, he’s not dating your mom.” She annoyingly sighed.

“Yeah, and also, I’ve known you for way longer. If anyone’s gonna be your dad, it’s gonna be me, not Munson.” Steve exhorted with ire. 

Dustin mockingly laughed. “Please, you and mother have the same hips.” 

Robin Buckley and Dustin Henderson were too engrossed in their conversation to bring any of their attention to Steve Harrington’s insulted gasp. “Look, Dustin, I already tried asking Y/N about it, and she’s just not ready to talk about it.” She explained. “Let’s just drop it until they’re ready to tell us.”

“Okay, but we can help them talk about it.” The kid returned with retaliation. “You know how great it was to see Nancy and Jonathan finally get together?”

“Which came at my expense, by the way.” Steve scoffed. “Don’t know why that brings you such joy.”

“Well, this is Y/N and Eddie, it’s even bigger!” Dustin smiled. “Look, all I’m saying is that a little encouragement never hurt anybody.” Call the boy annoying, he already knew that, but his intentions were coming from good faith. The notion of helping his friends find love- or more so express it, had him bubbling with excitement. “And the only way to get this love story rolling is if we get them to crack.”

Steve groaned. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, we have to make them break first.” Dustin was beginning to get his crazy eyes, something about conspiring a plan had him menacingly smirking his enthusiastic grin. “You know, trick them into telling us.”

Robin sighed, drilling the palm of her hands into her eyes. “Okay, you know what? Do whatever you like, Dustin, but I will not be a part of this plan.”

“Of course, you will!” Dustin implored with desperate hands grabbing at her arms to shake with emphasis. “You’re the one who’s gonna have to flirt with Eddie.”

Robin and Steve blurted in disbelief. “What?!”

“Well, Steve can’t flirt with Y/N, she’ll never go for it.” Dustin rationalized. 

“Woah, woah, wait a second, what makes you think she wouldn’t go for me?” Steve plowed on, his ego taking an obvious hit by a child six years his age. “I’m a total catch, the ladies love me!” He argued. “And Robin, she can’t flirt with Eddie, she’s… uh, well, she- she just can’t!” He stepped up to try to help his friend, much to Robin’s appreciation.

Dustin sighed, placing a tender hand upon Steve’s shoulder. “Look, Steve, you gotta get over this crush you have on Robin-”

“I do not have a crush on Robin!” Steve flung Dustin’s arm away. “And back to this ‘Y/N not going for me’ thing, I can totally flirt with her to get her to crack!”

Dustin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, as though he was the adult in this situation. “Steve, c’mon, she calls you himbo behind your back, she probably thinks you have no personality.” 

“I have personality!”

“No, you have hair!” 

In the midst of the commotion, Eddie Munson had sauntered his way out of the double doors, cigarette in hand to relinquish the stress brought upon him throughout the day. Despite the matter that his van had been haphazardly parked on the west end of the parking lot for reasons being that your pretty self always used the end doors for the less crowded purposes—sue him, he loved the view—there was always something about Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson arguing that always brought happy entertainment for the metalhead. 

“Trouble in paradise?” His croaking voice startled the group, as they all looked at him stunned. “Jesus Christ, what’s with the faces?” Eddie laughed, as his cigarette scraped along the wetness of lips. 

“N-Nothing.” Robin awkwardly had to offer, forcing Eddie to raise a brow at her.

And then he spoke. Dustin fucking Henderson spoke. “Actually! Uh, R-Robin what were you saying about Eddie just now?” She snapped a deadly glare back at him, to which he gladly challenged with a grating smile that had Steve quietly laughing in the back.  

“You talkin’ about me behind my back, Buckley? C’mon, I thought we were friends.” Eddie lightly jabbed, as he paid more attention to his lighter, which was taking multiple rounds of clicks until it ignited. 

“Nothing.” She assured. “I said nothing.”

“No, no, you were saying something about his outfit.” Dustin encouraged. God, how ethical was it to beat up a child? “About how he… looks nice.” 

Robin sighed, as Eddie gave her a lighthearted smile. “Thanks, Rob, I’m really liking those patches.” He pointed to her sweater, finding nothing but the innocence of friendship in her supposed compliment. 

“A-And something about his large muscles.” A curl of his hair was absentmindedly twirled as to appear uninvolved in the scheme of his mischief, and right as Eddie’s eyes left Dustin with a confused stare, the kid’s arm shoved Robin’s back to coach her further. 

So, Robin Buckley, simply accepted. Though, tapping into her retired career of one year in drama club when she got the gracious role of playing Mrs. Soames in last year's production of Our Town proved to lack any skills training, when attempting to flirt with Eddie Munson had her stuttering like a child learning to speak. Then again, playing Mrs. Soames in Our Town didn’t exactly require her to flirt with her friend’s secret boyfriend who was a man!

“Y-Yeah, Eddie, uh, that m-material.” Robin bunglingly smiled, as a stiff hand touched the leather of his coat. “O-Oh, well, hello, Mr. B-Bicep.” She mentally prepared herself for the moment Steve Harrington would belittle her to death for her lack of flirting skills whenever this mess was over.  “You’ve been, uh, working out?” 

Attempting to give her the benefit of the doubt, Eddie chose to assuage the painful discomfiture with his casual sarcasm. “Ah, well, I try to, y’know, squeeze things.” Eddie recoiled at her over-the-top laugh that appeared too similar to that of Heidi Wilson’s, when she ran into him and Steve in the food court of Starcourt Mall last week, looking to allure his friend with whatever screech that was. “You okay?”

“Uh-”

“She’s just having guy problems.” Dustin interjected, much to Robin’s dismay. Never. Never in a million years would Robin Buckley ever have guy problems. “Go on, tell him.” 

Yeah, Dustin Henderson wouldn’t see the age sixteen. “Well, uh, you know how you’re s-sometimes just looking for something, a-and don’t even realize that it’s, um, right there in front of you... s-smoking a cigarette?”

Eddie looked down at the lit cigarette in his mouth, and quickly stepped back in panic, all while Steve Harrington’s cheeks puffed with laughter, as his sealed lips worked overtime to not guffaw out loud. “U-Um, yeah, okay, I’m gonna go.” Eddie could only spare a quick glance to Robin, before throwing everyone a small wave goodbye. 

Robin Buckley watched him walk away for two seconds, before slowly turning to Dustin Henderson, where he was met with her twitching eye. “You have five seconds to run.”

His mouth fell gape. “But wait, Steve’s my ride-”

“Five!” 

That Monday afternoon, Dustin Henderson spent forty-five grueling minutes walking the three mile hike to his home, as punishment per Robin Buckley’s request. And yes, she did wave him goodbye, when Steve Harrington’s BMW swiftly passed him on the way over. 

-

Steve Harrington confirmed it next. 

And maybe was a little asshole about it. 

Benny’s Burger had become the choice of dinner for the mundane Monday night he was currently enduring, because Eddie Munson refused to hit up the bar, despite the common courtesy that buying beers had become for the twenty-year-old men. At the very least, greasy burgers with a cigarette to follow would be the accommodation Eddie Munson could offer, since Steve Harrington had lost his weekly hookup, because his personal wingman decided to fall into a secret relationship- presumably. Steve was choosing to balance on the fence of whether or not to believe the words of a fourteen-year-old, mostly because if he did, Steve Harrington would become subjected to the sanctimonious behavior of a cocky teenager. 

And who would want that? 

“Lemme do a double cheeseburger with extra pickles, uh, no tomatoes, please. Ooh, with a side of cheese fries, a strawberry shake, and I’ll get that with a Coke, too. Thanks, Benny.” Steve eyed his friend. God, that man could eat. The bustling fan that chilled Benny’s sweaty neck had proffered a wonderful alternative to the sweltering humidity that tinted the large windows with fog. Aside from the burly trucker consuming the two cups of coffee to keep him awake for the night, Steve had all respective authority to slyly grill his buddy on whatever friends-with-benefits-slash-potential-boyfriend-girlfriend dynamic he shared with you. 

Fuck it. “Uh, might as well do the same, Ben, what he said.” The laminated menu went unskimmed, closed off, and collected for the owner to take. 

Assuring the boys their meals would follow out quickly, they met Benny with gracious thank you’s for the service, and Steve Harrington rashly followed the movements of the older gentleman, until his being was out of ear shot, promptly snapping his head back to his friend. “Why didn’t you wanna go to the bar tonight?!” If a sign as to why Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington were soulmates, for whatever reason, needed to be clearer than it already was, the incaution- not so subtle “subtle” approach was reason enough. 

“Uh,” Eddie hummed, forcing Steve’s eyes to narrow in return, “I dunno, just didn’t wanna go for drinks tonight.” He shrugged, flicking at a sugar packet he had no intentions of using. 

Steve raised a brow. “Really?”

The incredulous tone was quite too bitchy for Eddie’s liking, who merely scoffed. “Can’t a guy care about his liver?”

“Ed, there’s a pack of cigarettes hangin’ in your pocket.” Steve deadpanned. “Think organ functionality is the least of your worries.” Unwelcoming to the implied suspicion of accusation behind Steve’s comment, Eddie simply chose to stay silent, finding more interest playing with the provided condiments as trinkets for his entertainment. Steve rolled his eyes. “Y’know, I saw Myra at the laundromat not too long ago.” He scratched his clean shaven chin, playing into his nonchalant bit, that only left Eddie to raise his eyebrows in confusion as to where this was going. “She looked nice; got her hair done, these pretty, little braids, y’know, with the gold cuffs and whatnot.” 

Eddie’s head lolled, enjoying the simple task of his finger tracing the obscured lines of the faux granite table top, when the ketchup label had been read to its entirety. “So?”

“So,” Steve emphasized, “you coulda called her up, y’know, tell her to meet you tonight. How long has it been since you’ve seen her- or any girl for that matter?” He slyly asked. 

“Not interested.” Blunt and suffice, surely enough to ward off anymore of Steve’s prodding questions. 

But Steve merely scoffed. “What, in girls anymore?” 

And in true Eddie Munson fashion, a shit-eating grin consumed his face, devious smile lines and all, as he leaned on perched forearms to invade Steve’s space. “Aw, why? You interested, big boy?”

Yeah, this conversation would be going nowhere. 

As the sparing minutes filled to meaningless conversations, their full course dinners made the quick arrival, and Steve pondered at the various ways a confession could be pummeled out of Eddie Munson’s mouth, which was currently being stuffed to the brim with mushing bites of each food group—minus the vegetables, this was Benny’s Diner after all. There was the ex-fling route, but clearly Eddie wasn’t looking to explore that again; good news for you, at least. That is if anything Henderson claimed was actually true. Little shit-

But wait a minute, that was it! What would Dustin Henderson do?!

He could still hear his grating voice. "Well, Steve can’t flirt with Y/N, she’ll never go for it." As if. Steve Harrington could get you- hell, Steve Harrington could get anyone. Graduating out of the social hierarchy of high school totally hasn’t affected his game… totally. But digressing, if Dustin Henderson could scheme up a plan with no substance, Steve Harrington could, too. If anything, this would make so much more sense, given that Robin doesn’t even like boys. Dustin Henderson didn’t know anything, but Steve, yeah Steve Harrington was way more cunning than some snappy child with no regard for people’s business. Yeah, Steve Harrington could totally do this…

Eddie’s chewing slowed, brows cinched, as he wondered why the hell Steve Harrington had been silently smiling to himself for the past minute. And people saw him as a freak? Fucking weirdo. 

“Hey, uh,” Steve cleared his throat, presumably back to being normal, allowing Eddie to continue to shove his face with a strawberry milkshake covered cheese fry, unperturbed by Steve’s judgemental grimace, “I’m thinkin’ of askin’ out Y/N.”

Suddenly caught in his throat, Eddie began coughing up the fry he just downed, as Steve smiled with such amusement at the torment he just caused his friend. Maybe Henderson was right. “W-What? You wanna what?”

“Yeah, been thinkin’ about it, and y’know, I’m really feeling her.” Steve cocked a smirk that had Eddie’s face scrunching with agitation. “Very smart, funny, really fucking pretty, so…”

“I d-don’t, um- you really think that’s a g-good idea?” Eddie adjusted in his seat, composing the bubbling feeling that stirred terribly with the monstrosity he had just eaten.

Taking a large bite from his burger, Steve grinned happily. “Why wouldn’t it be?” Hunger and entertainment wonderfully satiated on this peaceful, late Monday night. 

Eddie shrugged, sulkingly throwing a stray pickle in his mouth. “I dunno, you’re just friends n’ all.” He mumbled. 

“Oh!” Steve’s eyes gleamed with laughter behind them. “You don’t think friends should date-”

“No, no, no, no!” God, the last thing Eddie was about to do was inadvertently claim your relationship was some end all be all cataclysm, but did it really have to come at the expense of encouraging his friend to date his secret girlfriend?! “I-I mean, like, some friends c-can date, like, um, good friends-”

“So, me and Y/N?” Steve quietly chuckled to himself, as he watched Eddie fret with frustration. 

“No- I mean, I dunno!” He exasperated, as Steve relished in his greasy food with a smile on his face. Eddie’s heart began sinking into his stomach. He understood how demeaning it would be to conclude you as the type to jump into Steve’s arms once he’d make the “inevitable” move. God, for once in his life someone with care to proffer promised him fundamental security, and there was no denying it, he felt. Felt it in your caressing hands, your saccharine words, your devoted kisses, your gentle touches- you touched with such love… at least, that's what it felt like. Does Eddie Munson even know love? He swallowed thickly. “D-Do you even think she would go for you-”

“I have personality!” Steve proclaimed, finger pointed and all, forcing Eddie to shove back in surrenderance, hands in the air, and a confused look to pair. 

“Okay, I’m not sayin’ you don’t, geez.” Eddie clarified, as Steve huffed, raking a harsh hand through his Farrah Fawcett hairsprayed perfection. “J-Just maybe don’t. Like, um, i-if it doesn’t work out, it could get really bad between you two, a-and it would be fucking horrible not to have her in your life at all, you can’t lose her, man.” 

Voice so small and eyes so distant, there was a deep inkling that perhaps Eddie was speaking his fears aloud. Because even in the greatness that was having the privilege of calling you his girlfriend, there was a world full of Steve Harringtons that could provide you with more than what any Eddie Munson ever could. Late at night, when the world could finally offer you both the peace to just be, entangled in arms and legs, Eddie would just stare at you and… know. Know that there is a feeling that scares the living shit out of him that he can’t feel for anyone else. A different type of feeling from the camaraderie of his club, who triumph against the evil of the universe. A different type of feeling from the shoulders he’s cried on of his uncle, because Eddie truly cannot thank him enough. You, you were a different type of feeling. One that left him just wanting to look at you, smell you, touch you, think of you all day. 

This wasn’t just infatuation, god, it felt like pure fucking lo- shit, what would he know. Eddie Munson didn’t know love. 

A sudden wave of regret washed over Steve, as he realized the saddened roundness of his buddy’s eyes. “Nah, man, that’s not gonna happen.” His calm voiced reassured. “I mean, it’s Y/N, why would she ever allow that to happen? Y’know, so what, things don’t work out between… me and her,” he explicated, “doesn’t mean your- I mean, our friendship has to change.” Steve watched, as Eddie nodded along, shoulders slumping in relaxation. “We talk it out, we understand each other, and we move on as friends. Together. We’ll still love each other like that. And, hey, at least we’ll both get a hot hookup out of it.” Okay, maybe he was still being a little shit, but he was only channeling his inner Henderson. Plus, the snapping glare from Eddie was quite priceless. 

“Are you really gonna make a move on Y/N?” His jaw ticked with clenched teeth. 

“I dunno.” Steve smiled, before snapping his fingers with a brilliant revelation, “Y’know what, I saw Robin flirting with you earlier today, how ‘bout we go on a double date?” Yeah, now he was definitely just teasing. “Hell, make it a triple one once Byers and Wheeler head back into town.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Robin was not flirting with me, she was just being… weird.” He pondered it for a second. What the hell was that that happened this afternoon? There’s no way she actually- no, impossible. Could she? No, that didn’t feel right. Well, maybe-

“Hey, do you actually think I have personality?” Oh, Stevie. 

-

On Tuesday evening, the Family Video store saw the little customers it was regularly accustomed to; Mr. Fredrickson, only to be accounted for, slowly roamed the documentary section, particularly interested in the historical segment for his afternoon leisure.

The nub of his cane poked an indent into the carpeted floors, as his supported weight allowed for close inspection of the bolded titles that plastered in an array of colors. Luckily, the lens of his glasses were thick enough to provide him the ability of sight to read what was on display for night, leaving you to mindlessly thumb through this month's issue of Cosmopolitan. “Hm.” Mr. Fredrickson gruffed. “What d’ya make of the Franco-Prussian War, darlin’?”

The Proven Personal Approach to Permanent Weight Loss. An Incredible Shrinking Woman Tells How She did it! Christ. You found more interest flipping back to the written Cosmo’s quiz determining what kind of husband your current rendezvous would make. 

“Uh…” Your back was beginning to ache from finding all support on your perched elbow digging into the counter, letting your cheek fall to your palm. “You did the Napoleonic Wars last time, no? Why don’t you give the French a break?” You skimmed the printed words of the glossy pages.

His wrinkled pointer finger shakingly racked through the tapes, as he took your word of advice. Your eyes were hanging onto the last bit of energy they were enduring to stay awake, but the weight of eyelids inevitably began to win, and it surely didn’t help that the liveliness of your thriving life was partaking in conversations with an elderly man who found amusement in learning about wars. 

But before a potential write up—Keith never found the actual courage to do so, loved to threaten it, though—for sleeping on the job could be scolded, the welcoming bell of the front door rang loudly enough to alert some life back into your body. 

“Welcome to Family Vide-euuawghh.” A guttural yawn ripped out of you, slurring your standardized greeting into an embarrassing mush of sounds. 

With watery eyes scrunched from tiredness, a rushed apology to your incoming customer had proved to fall unnecessary, as a familiar chuckle addressed you back. “Aw, such rigorous labor, working my baby to death, huh?” Eddie Munson, himself, teased, as he leaned to hover over the counter and close to your sluggish face. 

“Don’t tease me.” Your mouth jutted in offense, as you rubbed your eyes to the clear sight of being welcomed by Eddie’s bourbon eyes and a smug curl to his lips. 

His rough-tipped thumb caressed the hairs of your brow to ease. “How can I not when it gets you to make that cute pout at me, hm?”

You piqued with giddiness. “Because I’m your girlfriend.” A label you quickly learned to adore. “And you shouldn’t be mean to your girlfriend.”

Eddie smiled a breathy chuckle, as he peered at your lips. “Yeah, you are my girlfriend, huh?” He proudly verbalized with a husk to his tone. His mouth was itching to say more, pour out all he felt for the girl standing before him, but a counter the size of the world divided the union between two beating hearts of devotion. And manifesting his words of love paved the way for the potential loss of you. But not doing so also did the same. Because he’s learned good things don’t last for Eddie Munson. And what a unless world it would be to lose the profoundness of you. 

God, he wanted to punch Steve Harrington for last night.

Eddie took a deep breath. His bangs landed against your forehead, and scrunched under your nod of confirmation. You are his girlfriend. “Where’re the other two stooges?” He whispered, his breath fanning across your face. 

“In the back doing inventory.” You gladly answered the words Eddie wanted to hear. He bashfully leaned in, though before his mouth could meet yours, you pulled back with furrowed brows. “Wait, ‘other two stooges,’ am I the third?” 

Eddie barked out a boyish laugh, as he watched your faux face of aversion and shock. His large hands made your face feel small as he cupped your cheeks and brought you forth. “God, you’re so pretty.” 

His lips crashing upon yours had wiped your expression of any annoyance you tried to playfully brat out. His mouth moved against yours so languidly, it had you falling limp to his kiss, as he expressed all that he felt with the touch of his lips. Eddie pulled away slowly, leaving you to quietly hum in retaliation and chasing his lips. 

“Sorry.” He chuckled, providing you with one more loving peck. “But, hey, y’know, speaking of the other stooges, uh, Robin and Steve,” he cleared his throat, “you notice anything weird about ‘em, like lately?”

The cafeteria. “Um, yeah, actually.” You contemplated on the thought. “Why, did they say something?”

Nausea hit him like a truck, wondering if "The Hair’s" attempts to get at you were already happening quicker than expected. “S-Steve, he, uh, he said something to you?” Eddie felt his throat dry up.

“Steve? No, Steve’s been Steve, but I was mostly talking about Robin.” Jesus Christ, did you bring peace to his world. 

“Oh, yeah,” He puffed a breath of relief, “um, weirdest thing happened after school yesterday, but I think Robin was hitting on me.” Confusion had been written all over your face, as you pulled back from the counter. “She was, like, totally into me.”

“What?” You chuckled. “No, not possible.”

“Okay, ow.” Eddie playfully rolled his eyes, as you laughed, rubbing a soothing hand down his arm in apology. 

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean it like that” you giggled, “but I’m sure you probably just misread things, you know? Robin finds you charming in a platonic way, like with Steve.”

Eddie straightened up. “No, I’m telling you, sweetheart, she was all over me.” He persisted. “I mean, for crying out loud, she was touching my bicep.”

A smug smile took over your face, as you arched your brow at him. “This bicep?” You teasingly squeezed his soft arm.

Eddie scoffed. “Well, it’s not flexed right now.” 

The back storage unit of Family Video had been littered with an influx of tapes, both coated in dust to be long forgotten and pristine with the newest release of what Hollywood had to offer. This year’s box office hit Top Gun starring Nancy Wheeler’s poster boy, Tom Cruise, or the fourteen-year-old The Ruling Class with the musical humor following a priest’s death due to his autoerotic asphyxiation kink? Robin Buckley laughed. Always the latter. 

“God, can’t believe Keith expects us to organize this junk.” Steve huffed, swiping his palms against each other, only to scowl at the specks of dust that floated into the air under the beaming sunlight. “I should be seeing Bridget right now, or Heidi, or taking out Linda, maybe Jeanie, haven’t talked to her in a minute.” Robin rolled her eyes at the endless sex-capades that was Steve Harrington’s love life. Christ, she couldn’t even get a clear sign that Vickie from chemistry wasn’t standing so straight. “Or-or maybe Y/N.” He chuckled to himself. 

“What?” Robin prodded. 

“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you, last night I was completely bugging out Munson, and told him I was planning on askin’ out Y/N.” Steve laughed, briefly coughing as dust particles blew off the VHS tapes. 

Robin was only left deadpanning in disappointment. “You did what now?” She scoffed. “You’re supposed to be on my side, I thought we were supposed to let it go?”

“You’re the one flirting with your friend’s boyfriend.” He argued. 

“Because that little twerp forced me to!” The Ruling Class came hurdling to his chest, as she chucked it. 

Shoving old movies aside, Steve grappled onto the box of new releases to shove into Robin’s arms, as he handled the second load. “Look, it doesn’t matter anymore, there are no sides, as much as I hate to admit it, Henderson was right about those two screwing.” Steve enthused. “You should’ve seen the look on Eddie’s face when I told him I was gonna make a move on Y/N.”

Robin huffed. “Okay, so let’s just leave it at that and let them screw in peace- or, even better yet, let’s just tell them we know, so they can have the freedom to do what they want.” 

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” Steve whined. 

Robin laughed at his childish mewl. “And, unless Munson gets rid of the thing in his pants and learns to grow a cup or two, I am not flirting with him again.” She playfully gagged, while reminiscing on yesterday’s events. 

“Please,” Steve derided, “you can’t even look Vickie in the eye, I highly doubt if Munson suddenly grew some tits you’d become some sort of Casanova.” He snorted, opening the door. “Mr. Bicep?” 

Before Robin’s sneaker could step foot back into the main lobby of Family Video, Steve’s grasp onto the collar of her shirt flung her back into the storage room, with a slam to the door. “Are you inane?!” She chastised, while attempting to find her balance with a ten pound box of VHS tapes. 

“Munson’s out there!” He whisper-yelled into her face. 

“Okay, so?” 

“So, we gotta get in there, and stir the pot a little.” His brows danced impishly against his forehead.

Robin’s face dropped vacantly. “What about anything that I literally just said didn’t click for you?” A smack against his head from her hand had him reeling back in defense. 

“Ow, okay, I get it, Munson doesn’t have boobs.” Steve huffed, rubbing out the dulling pain. “But, look, Dustin wasn’t that far off, a little encouragement doesn’t harm anyone. He thinks that you like him and that I like her, you’re telling me this isn’t even a little funny to you?” My god, did Steve Harrington have a charming way of flaunting that stupid smirk that had Robin hold back a chuckle. Because in retrospect, Eddie Munson believing his lesbian friend had a crush on him, while her partner in crime, her himbo, had a supposed liking to his secret girlfriend was quite funny. Funny like a priest dying from his autoerotic asphyxiation kink. 

She sighed, giving him a pointed glare. “One time, Harrington. This is the one and only time I will ever flirt with a man again.” 

Steve threw his hands up in defense, as a smile lingered on his face. “Highly doubt there will ever be a time in which I ask you to do that again.” He laughed, while slinging the door open. “Plus, it’s Munson. I’m sure his cynicism won’t even count it as flirting.” 

“Well, Y/N's flirting surely worked.” She joked, as they stepped out. 

“You think it’s because he has personality or nice hair?” Steve interrogated. “Because I sure as hell have way better hair than him.” 

Despite your alluring face, Eddie caught a glimpse of Steve and Robin making their way over while looking past your shoulder, forcing him to make the regretful decision to back away from you. “Ed.” Your tiny pout of confusion made it all that harder, until Steve’s voice boomed out. 

“Hey, y’know, as a customer, you’re supposed to actually rent something!” Him and Robin joined you both at the counters, where they sat the boxes of movies. “Or, you could, y’know, stock shelves with us.” 

Eddie flipped him the bird, as he smiled. “Actually, I was just stoppin’ by to ask if Halloween is still rented out.” He turned to look down at you with a smirk. “Is it?”

“I can go check that for you.” Your sweet customer service voice had him biting back a grin, as you stepped away to the computer. 

As Steve and Robin began displacing films from the boxes, his elbow nudged her side to grab her attention away from organizing. “Just keep it casual.” He whispered, as she rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m sure if you unfocus your eyes, the five o’clock shadow will go away, and he’ll totally look just like Vickie.” And he huffed right back when Robin rightfully scoffed at him. “What? They have the same eyes… just, y’know, different color… and shape.” 

Robin waved him off before anything further could come out of his mouth. With The Fly nestled in her grasp, Steve threw her a nod of encouragement, before scurrying to the shelves with a small laugh escaping his lips. 

“Sorry, Eds.” You clicked off the computer. “Landon K. beat you to it; no Halloween.” 

“Should totally check out The Fly.” Robin slyly imposed, as she handed him the film. “Can never go wrong with some Cronenberg, right?” Eddie inspected the film with a shrug. “Sure, better than taking movie suggestions from Harrington.” 

There came the inordinate laugh from Robin that had Eddie throwing you a knowing glance, and Robin, herself, internally dying inside. “Ha! Always so funny!” She clumsily fist-bumped his arm. “Uh- anyway! Better get back to work.” A large smile flashed both your ways.. “I, uh, I’ll see you later… handsome.” And following in the footsteps of her grandmother when she wasn’t screaming something batshit crazy, Robin Buckley pinched Eddie Munson’s cheek before running away to Steve Harrington. 

“You pinched his cheek?!” Steve contemptuously chortled in her frazzled face that burned with embarrassment. 

Robin’s hands smack her face, dragging the skin down, as she groaned. “Well, I don’t know how to do the whole flirting thing!” Her fist came smacking down at his chest.

Steve bent at the waist with a cramping stomach of laughter “Okay, yeah, but he’s not a baby!”

Your eyes followed Robin’s running figure until she disappeared into the maze of shelves, and you incredulously turned to your stunned boyfriend. With his mouth wide, and eyes bulging, Eddie fretfully spoke. “Okay, did you see that?! With the compliment, and the pinching?!” 

You bewilderedly settled at the realization. “Actually, I did.” You couldn’t believe it. Your best friend was flirting with you boyfriend- well, technically, she had no clue he was your boyfriend, but still- Eddie? Not to sell your boyfriend short, god, he was perfect in every way, but Robin? Robin and Eddie?!

“Okay, so now do you believe that she’s attracted to me?” He persisted. 

You thought for a second, and Eddie Munson watched your face drop with concern, as your hand clutched your chest. “Oh, my god! Oh, my god! She knows about us!” You cautiously warbled, as you began pacing about behind the counter. 

Eddie’s face scrunched with distress. “Are you serious?” 

“Robin knows, and she’s just trying to freak us out!” You belabored, anxiously looking back to where Steve and Robin could no longer be seen. Your hands dramatically dropped at the revelation. “That’s the only explanation for it!”

Eddie vacillated at the unwarranted insult. “Okay, but what about my pinchable face and bulging biceps?” He confidently pointed to his arm, before the lacking muscle of scrawiness suddenly hit him like a truck. “She knows!” 

Your hand comically slapped the counter, as you chuckled in disbelief at her attempt to fool you. “Oh, man, she probably thinks she’s so slick for messing with us.” Eddie joined in, frenziedly laughing, completely feeling stupefied, though giving props to the mastermind, nonetheless. Impressed he was. “But, hey, you know what? She doesn’t know we know she knows, so…” 

“Ah, yes!” Eddie piqued with interest. “The messers become the messees!” 

-

“You sure you kids are alright?” Shrugging on his utility jacket for the night, the aging lines of Wayne Munson’s forehead scrunched with suspicion for the nightly activity his nephew and his supposed “friend” were going to be up to. 

Sure, the sight of you over at his trailer wasn’t something peculiar, in fact, for the past months, you, in particular, were the only one of Eddie’s buddies who made a regular appearance to their humble abode. Why? Well that was a question that still went unanswered whenever Wayne tried to prod into the life of his nephew. But the way Eddie would blush, while simultaneously attempting to quickly change the subject, made Wayne’s throat tickle with a chuckle. 

Who the hell were you two fooling?

But now, with much concern from Wayne, it seemed as though Eddie’s oddities had begun rubbing off on you, as you both strangely huddled around the yellow home phone, clearly waiting for the second Wayne would close the door behind, as he left for the graveyard shift. 

Attempting to “casually” lean against the paneling of the wall, Eddie’s head was quick to snap up and down in return. “Yeah, yeah.” He rushed. “Better get goin’, don’t wanna be late for the bosses.” He threw an overcompensating smile, as you sat at the kitchen table, merely following suit to that of your “friend.” Wayne Munson couldn’t care less about the bosses. 

“Alright then.” The old man huffed, picking up the keys of his pick-up truck, letting the humid spring breeze waft through the front door. “Get ‘er some dinner if you’re makin’ ‘er stay late.”

“As always.” Eddie threw you a sly wink, as Wayne left with a quick exchange of goodbye thrown from both parties, until the front door finally closed. 

At the click, you sprung from your chair, snatching the phone out of the receiver to hand to Eddie, to which he happily grabbed with a maniacal snicker. “You sure she’s over at Steve’s?” 

Your fingers were fervent with the harsh press to the buttons, dialing the numbers to phone the Harrington residence. “Uh huh, something about watching Fast Times with Robin.” The second your finger pressed down on the last digit, you were quick to maneuver the phone against Eddie’s ear. “Okay, just stick to the script.”

Eddie scoffed, flipping his hair back. “Sweetheart, please, I was able to get you, I sure as hell can get Robin.” Your hand met his chest with a chastising slap. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He laughed. 

Up the road, on the secluded sector of Cornwallis Street, Robin Buckley was anxiously plowing through a bowl of popcorn, as the fifty-second minute was fastly approaching, and suddenly Phoebe Cates was climbing out of the pool with the detrimental ambience of teenage horniness. 

“Here it comes, here it comes!” Steve snickered, as he absentmindedly chewed on a licorice piece. 

Robin’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “God, Steve, you don’t have to point out the obvious!” But after forcing her friend to endure two hours and thirty-four minutes of the satirical musical critique of institutional religion that was The Ruling Class, Steve decided to return the torture by subjection of… boobies. 

“What I’m point out is the fact that Vickie lived through this exact moment, meaning she was staring at boobies, meaning-”

“Don’t say it!”

“Vickie likes boobies!” Steve implored, the largest grin on his face, as he watched Robin slap her hands onto her face at a brutal attempt to shield herself from the mortifying experience that was having Steve Harrington as a friend. 

But, in slow motion, as Phoebe Cates’ fingers clutched onto the center hook of her bikini bra, the phone shrilled, allowing Robin to exhale a “thank god,” as Steve’s attention begrudgingly turned to the incoming call. 

Swiftly jumping to the end table, Steve picked up the brick phone. “Yeah, hello?” He spoke, munching on another rope of his candy, surely missing the quick glances Robin was making back at the TV. Steve’s brows piqued at the static voice. “Oh! Yeah, she’s right here!” Turning to Robin, his hand cupped over the speaker, as he giddily shoved the phone to her. “It’s Eddie, he’s probably gonna cave in.” He whispered. 

Rolling her eyes, Robin cleared her throat from any stray popcorn kernel, ready to end this once and for all. “Hello?” 

Back at Forest Hills, your toes pressed against the linoleum tiling of the kitchen floor to push yourself up to his height, smushing your ear against the other side of the phone, as mischievous smiles consumed both your faces. “Hello, Robin… I’ve been thinkin’ about you all day.” Eddie channeled his most suave voice, forcing you to bite back a laugh, suppressing your mouth into his shoulder. 

“Huh?!” Devious as ever, both you and Eddie almost broke at her considerable shock. 

Steve raised a questioning brow, attempting to scoot closer, only for Robin to preserve her personal bubble and shove him back. Much to his nosey dismay. “Well, y’know that thing you said before, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued.” Eddie teased, as you nodded your head along to show your proudness for your boyfriend flirting with your friend. 

Yeah, things in Hawkins, Indiana surely were weird. 

“R-Really?” Robin choked, as the popcorn in her stomach suddenly turned at the uneasiness of male attention. Gross. 

Ever the villain, Eddie smiled triumphantly. “Yeah, listen my uncle isn’t gonna be here tonight, so why don’t you come over, and I’ll let you, uh, feel my bicep… or maybe more.” You quietly chuckled. God, what a cute loser.

Robin grimaced, stuttering with concern. “Uh, you know, I-I’ll have to get b-back to you on that, uh, okay, bye!” She was quick to hang up the phone, while you and Eddie intimately celebrated in the lonesome of his kitchen with silly squeals and tiny jumps. “Oh, my god! He wants me to come over to feel his bicep and more!” 

Steve Harrington was left speechless at Robin’s panicked announcement, as his mouth hung wide. “Are you kidding?!”

“No!” She gagged. “I know what I heard!” 

Steve felt incredulously at the scumminess of his friend. “I cannot believe he would do that to… wait a second.” His brows furrowed. Eddie Munson nearly launched at the chance to shut down any ideas of Steve dating you, why on Earth would he suddenly- oh, shit. “They know!”

“What?!” 

“They know that we know!” Steve clarified, as the gears in Robin’s head turned, until her face was enlightened with the fact of the matter which was that her best friend was trying to deceive her right back!

She gasped. “I can’t believe those two!” Instantaneously, any reservations Robin initially had for Steve and Dustin’s plan had left, as all she felt was dramatic offense at the idea of trying to be demeaned. 

“They thought that they could mess with us?!” Steve proclaimed.

“They’re trying to mess with us?!” In disbelief, both friends chuckled with bewilderment at the unexpected slyness coming from you two. That was, until Robin Buckley schemed with realization. “They don’t know we know they know we know!” 

Steve’s face scrunched with confusion, though nonetheless a team player, he nodded along, giggling at Robin’s wicked implication. Suddenly, a call to the Henderson household was in need. 

Dustin Henderson’s calves burned under the rigorous strain of bike riding from the northern end of Cornwallis street to reach Steve’s house. Haphazardly disposing his bicycle in the driveway, Dustin had barged in with no warning, coming face-to-face with Robin Buckley, resident polyglot band geek, wearing Mrs. Harrington’s blue cocktail dress, as Steve Harrington, retired king of Hawkins High, played makeup artist with his mother’s newly bought red lipstick in hand. 

It was undeniable at this point, Hawkins, Indiana was most definitely weird. 

“Would you just quit moving, so I can put this on you?!” The vein on Steve’s forehead became pronounced under the immense pressure he felt. Being a makeup artist surely wasn’t easy, especially when your client was nagging about the intense blush placement of his work. 

“Enough with the makeup, it’s Eddie for Christ sake!” Robin complained, enduring the endeavor of trying to shove Mrs. Harrington’s shoes onto her feet. God, why was the woman’s shoe size so small?!

“Really Steve?!” Robin and Steve jumped at the intruding voice of Dustin, as the kid stood with his hands on his hips, imitating the signature pose of the man before him. “That’s totally not her color, you’re making her look like a clown!”

Both parties scoffed, rightfully offended. 

Robin pushed Steve away, rubbing her cheeks harshly to blend out the monstrosity that was Steve’s makeup skills. “Okay, this is plenty!” She stressed. “We’re gonna call him, we’re gonna get that date, and we’re gonna win!” 

The boys cheered, Dustin more so heavily appreciative of this new Buckley mentality, as they circled around her when she reached for the phone. “Mm! You better grab a spring roll before I eat ‘em all.” Eddie’s crowded mouth of mashed vegetables spoke. Chinese had been delivered in the wake of your celebration, congratulating both of you for your—mostly Eddie—duplicitously clever work. 

In the midst of diving into your tangled lo mein, the phone shrilled, which had Eddie springing from the couch. “Probably calling back to surrender!” You cheered, as Eddie snickered, sliding his socked feet into the kitchen. “Good job on creeping her out, babe!” 

Eddie bowed, accepting whatever weird kind of praise that was, before answering the phone with a muffled mouth of spring rolls. “Hello?”

“Be sexy.” Steve encouraged, eliciting a scoff from Robin, as she turned her focus onto the phone call. 

“Hi!” Both terribly displeased with her lack of commitment, Robin was met with strict glares from Dustin and Steve to amp it up… so, she did. Clearing her throat, she dropped an octave to obtain the sultriness of what she could only assume Roxie Rockett and Viola Diamond to sound like. “Uh, I mean, hey, you.” Robin Buckley wanted to puke. “So, Eddie, I’d love to come over tonight.”

A piece of pork was hacked from Eddie’s throat, as he choked on his food. “R-Really?!”

Watching his face drop, you stood with concern wondering what was going on on the other line. “Oh, absolutely. Should we say around nine?” Eddie checked his clock. In fifteen fucking minutes?! 

But Eddie Munson wasn’t going to back down. Eddie Munson, Dungeon Master of the great Hellfire, who’s pushed his men to prevail against the nefarious dark lords of villages and towns alike, was not going to be defeated by Trumpet Girl. The man glared his eyes. “Yes.” He tested. 

Robin Buckley accepted his challenge. “Good.” She smiled, as she watched Steve motion for her to crank it up a notch. “Uh, I’m really looking forward to you and I h-having sexual intercourse.” The phone hung up and flung from her hands the second the words left her mouth. 

Eddie Munson’s face dropped. Dustin Henderson gagged. Steve Harrington laughed. And Robin Buckley wanted to crawl into a hole to forever perish in the depths of torturous hell. 

Because that’s what it felt like to flirt with a man. 

-

“Okay, showtime!” Dustin applauded from the backseat of Steve’s car, where Robin scrambled to effortlessly scrunch her hair around. 

“Here’s the perfume.” Steve pushed down the nozzle of the stolen fragrance of his mother’s collection—thanking god for the moment that she wasn’t here—where his finger spritzed numerous doses against Robin, causing the car to invade with the nauseating scent of strong, overpowering flowers. 

Robin coughed. “Alright, quit it! The kid has allergies.”

“I have allergies!” Dustin sneezed. 

Steve huffed in annoyance, watching as Robin unbuckled from her seat. The beaming headlights that had once reflected off the vinyl-covered walls of the trailer had been switched off for stake-out purposes, as Steve’s car parked in the open area of the Munson home in the quiet night. 

“Hand over the wine, Henderson.” Buckled next to the seat of Dustin’s—for protective measures—a bottle of his parent's stolen chardonnay rested like a passenger on board; Steve’s, ever the romantic, suggestion for the authenticity of a real date. 

“Is this really necessary?” Robin truly had no room to talk, she most definitely hadn’t experienced the polarizing events of the dating scene, let alone ones of heterosexual realms (thankfully).  

Scoffing, Steve was galled by the dig at his—for once—knowledgeable expertise of life phenomena. “Are you kidding, chicks go for this shit.” Surely, Bridget, Heidi, Linda, and Jeanie can attest to his opinion. 

“Yeah, well, Munson’s definitely not a chick… unfortunately.” She mumbled. 

“Huh?” Dustin asked. 

Robin was quick to shut up in a panic. “Nothing!” 

“Look, just get in there, and do your thing, alright?” Whatever attempt at a pep talk this was from Steve Harrington devastatingly fell short, as the last thing Robin Buckley expected to do on her Tuesday night was go out on a date with a man, who so happened to be her best friend’s boyfriend. Thing?! What thing?! She couldn’t even stare her crush in the eye for Christ sake, Steven! Robin Buckley has no thing! And Eddie Munson unfortunately does- the repulsing (to her) kinda thing that Robin Buckley doesn’t even like! She huffed. “Just take it easy. The second Munson lets you in, we’ll sneak up to the door, and hear through there.” 

On the edge of his bed, Eddie Munson let your hands wander about, until his appearance was up to your liking; voluminous hair, controlled friz, straightened shirt, and a bottle of minty mouth spray that he coughed at, but necessary for the prevention of spring roll breath. “Okay, you’re gonna be great!” You motivated him with the words of encouragement, as you brushed away his stray hairs. “You just make her think you want to have sex with her, and it’ll totally freak her out.”

Eddie straightened up, shaking his body from any jitters, and stretching as if a marathon was in place. “Okay, so how far am I exactly supposed to go with her?” His face etched with concern. 

You waved him off. “Relax, alright, she’s gonna give in way before you do!” If there was anything you learned about Robin Buckley in your months of friendship, it was the blatantly obvious fact that she would shrivel up in awkwardness before anything further took place. 

Eddie Munson freaked at your sudden certainty. “How do you even know?!”

“Because you’re on my team!” You stressed. “And my team always wins!” 

His face scrunched with fret. “At this?!”

Tentative knocking against the front door pulled you both away from the conversation. It was game time. “Eddie,” his head whipped back to you, “you’re the Dungeon Master, okay? This, this is nothing in comparison to dark lord wizard thingies.” God, he knew for certain you didn’t fully understand his interest in Dungeons and Dragon, but the time you took to support him was making his heart beat faster than any fake date with your best friend could ever make him feel. 

You make him feel such incredible things. 

“You’re the master here, you’re in control, you got this!” Jesus Christ, the corny shit your competitiveness was making you say was too fucking cute. “Just go get some!” You finished him with a quick kiss that had him yearning for more, but your body quickly scurried away to the bathroom. 

Eddie Munson sighed. Cracking his neck, he rolling his shoulder. “I’m the Dungeon Master. I’m in control.”

Steve clutched a heavy hand on his steering wheel, as both him and Dustin peered through the windows. “Okay, just wait for it… wait for it… wait- get down!” The boys dropped their heads the second Eddie’s front door opened with a dramatic swing. 

And there she was. Eddie cocked an eyebrow for whatever reason it was Robin Buckley chose to show up overly dressed like a middle-aged woman, and with an awkward smile to taint her image. But Eddie Munson was right there to follow suit with a strange grin to greet her. 

“Robin.”

“Eddie.”

“Come on in.”

“I was going to.” 

As the trailer door closed shut, Steve and Dustin silently crawled their way out of the car with their utmost quietest attempts of closing the doors shut behind them. With crouched stances like detectives on duty, the pair scampered their way to the top of Eddie’s cemented stairs, where their heads pressed against the front door to hear the muffled conversation from the other side. 

“I, uh, brought some wine.” Robin held up the bottle, as Eddie was slightly taken aback. What the hell kinda teenager brings wine to a date? Probably the kind who’s a lesbian, and going out with her best friend’s boyfriend out of competition. “Would you like some?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” Making their way to the kitchen, Eddie secured two cups, as Robin popped off the protruding cork top, and suddenly she felt entirely even more stupid than the fact that she was on a “date” with a man, when Eddie proffered matching Garfield and Odie mugs for glasses of chardonnay. 

The dreadful silence began to take over, and Eddie could only manage to fill it with thorny chuckles, as Robin filled the mugs. “So, uh,” she sighed, “here we are. Nervous?”

“Me? No. You?” He skeptically questioned.  

But Robin Buckley was there to provoke him. “No, I want this to happen.” 

“So do I.” Eddie cleared his throat, before their glasses clicked with a toast, and Robin and Eddie found themselves chugging down the mug-fulls of alcohol to hopefully forget the disturbing night they were about to endure. When cups fell empty, Eddie sighed and turned to the radio that rested atop of the washing machine. “Why don’t I, uh, play some music; set the mood a little.”

Call her inexperience, whatever, but Robin knew there was no way in hell the screeching voices of Slayer attested to “setting the mood” during date night. God, she felt bad for you- for straight women. “Maybe-maybe I’ll, uh, dance for you.” She dared right back. 

Where Robin could judge Eddie on his music taste, Eddie could return the favor in her lack of mobility, as her body began clumsily swaying about in his kitchen, off rhythm to the already undanceable sounds to thrashing metal. Her contorting ankles in kitten heels paired with her jutting hips allowed her to mortifyingly saunter her way over to an uncomfortable Eddie, who was wielding the willpower to not bark a laugh in her face. 

But Robin Buckley was not going to win this. Not when Eddie Munson’s pride stood in the way. “Mm, you look good.” He spoke so stiffly, as he defied back with a taunting grin. 

“Why, thank you.” She forced out a laugh. “Y-You know, when you say things l-like that, it makes me wanna, um, rip that… Weird Al t-shirt right off.” Jesus Christ, Dustin made him get matching ones. 

“Okay,” he cleared his throat, “well, uh, why don’t we move this to the bedroom then?” His brows pointed, eyes glared. 

Robin immediately stopped her bizarre dancing. “Really?” Her panic settled in. 

“Oh!” Eddie quickly stepped back with an impeding smile. “Do you not want to?” He urged. 

“No, no.” Robin composed herself, waving him off with faux confidence. “I just, um, you know, first, I wanna t-take off all my clothes, and have you r-rub lotion all over me.” Is that what straight people do before sex?!

Eddie’s throat constricted with little air, and a tightening hand of embarrassment. “Well, that would be nice.” His voice raised a cracking octave. “I’ll, uh, go get the lotion.” Before Robin could respond, Eddie was already running away to the bathroom. Your gnawing teeth had bitten through your nail when Eddie came bustling through the door. “Okay, this is totally getting out of hand.”  He fretfully groused, as he crowded your area in the small room. “She wants me to put lotion on her!” Eddie dramatically snarled. 

You rebuffed his dread. “She’s bluffing!”

Eddie huffed. “Look, she’s not backing down. Jesus, shit, she went like this!” He suddenly gyrated his stiff hips harshly against you to mimic her dancing. 

A couple feet away at the front door of Eddie’s trailer, Robin was in consternation, frantically rambling to Steve and Dustin. “He is not backing down! He went to get lotion!”

“You aren’t done yet?” Dustin heaved. “You’re supposed to be on my team, he should be cracking right now!” 

Her angry finger flicked against his forehead, despite his insistent cries of pain. “This is all your fault to begin with!”

“Okay, will everybody just calm down for a second?” Steve hushed, where his hands found the relaxing perch against his hips, as if his motherly duties were calling. “Think of it this way, the sooner you get Eddie to break, the sooner this can all be over with.”

“Ooh, I like that.” Robin nodded along. 

“Just amp the flirting, alright?” Steve coached. “Look, it took him weeks to actually approach a girl at the bar, he used to get totally flustered whenever he’d play wingman for me. How the hell managed to get Y/N? I don’t know, but all I do know is that just like you, Eddie Munson is a total dud when it comes to flirting.”

Her mouth fell agape at the insult that stung too much from the utter reality of the statement. It didn’t make her feel any better when Dustin shoved that patronizing look in her face. “Yeah, Robin, sweetie, you are not doing a good job right now.”

“How would you know? You’re fourteen!” She bellowed. 

“And yet, which one of us is in a loving, committed relationship?” The kid snided.

Steve shushed Dustin away before a catfight could break out on the doorstep of Eddie’s home. “Look, you got this. Just make Munson uncomfortable! You’re a girl, you got this!”

“He’s a boy, he makes me uncomfortable!” She spat. 

Ransacking his bathroom cabinets for a bottle of lotion, you hastily shoved the bottle into his grasp, and clutched onto his shoulders. “You go back in there, and you seduce her till she cracks!” Never in a million years did you think you’d encourage your boyfriend to do that. Though with this much commitment, he should really get you into Dungeons and Dragons.

“Okay, just give me a second.” He took a deep breath for composure, just as he got a good glimpse of his bathroom. “Did you clean up in here?!” Your eyes rolled, before grappling onto the doorknob, and pushing Eddie out of the bathroom. He slowly approached the kitchen, where his nervousness eased at the sight of Robin at the door. “Oh, you’re, uh… you’re going!” He smiled.

Steve Harrington's voice replayed in her head, and Robin cleared her throat to pull out the sultry crisp she was needing to flirt. “Um, not without you, lover.”

Eddie flashed her a tight-lipped smile, as he released a big sigh. “Well, uh, come here.” He beckoned. “I’m very happy we’re gonna have all the sex.” 

Robin ignored the disgust in her belly to test him. “Y-You should be.” She smirked. “I’m very bendy.” Eddie’s eyebrows pulled with fright, as she stepped closer. “I’m going to k-kiss you now.”

And Eddie bothered her right back. “Not if I, um, kiss you first!” With a foot apart, Robin Buckley made her first move on a man, as her stiff hand latched uncomfortably to Eddie’s waist. Devastatingly following in line, Eddie’s fingertips barely grazed her skin, as they lightly rested onto her shoulder, neither party urging anyone to come closer. “Well, I-I guess there’s nothing left for us to do than to kiss.”

“Here it comes.” With rigid lips tucked inward, and tense bodies hesitantly pulling together, Eddie Munson genuinely began to realize how much of a idiotic idea all this was. A nauseating feeling struck him, as he understood what a lousy world it’d be to live in if he had to continue to disguise his feelings for you. I mean, going on a date with your best friend? This is the lengths he’s going to to hide something so perfect? And Robin. For the love of god, if picturing Joan Jett over Eddie’s face was needed to make this experience slightly less miserable, then, yeah, maybe this plan was stupid all along. 

“Okay, okay, okay! Fine, you win!” Eddie pulled away, as Robin’s face astounded. “I will not have sex with you!” He huffed with exhaustion. 

“And why not?” Robin smiled, as the victory was coming her way.

“Because I’m in love with Y/N!” 

“You’re-you’re what?” The front door jolted open, as Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson hurdled their way in, but Eddie took no notice of the peculiarity in that. Not when he heard the bathroom door open behind him. 

“Love her!” He proclaimed at the top of lungs. “That’s right! I love her!” Eddie pointed to you, as you made your way closer. “I love her! I’m in love with her!” And suddenly, the reality of you actually standing in front of him hit him, and Eddie realized the weight of what he just admitted to you… and his friends. Eddie took a deep breath, as he solemnly stared down at you, and in an instant, he felt his body calm at the sight of your smile. “I love you, Y/N.” 

His hands took solace against your warm cheeks, where you stared up at with adoration in your eyes. “I love you, Eddie.” Your arms circled around his neck, as his desperate hands clung to your shirt to pull you into an intoxicating kiss that had you both mewling with tenderness. This was it. Eddie Munson knew love.

That was until Robin spoke. “Oh, my god, you guys! We thought you were just doing it, we didn’t know you were in love!” She gushed. 

Steve shyly smiled from the back. “Dude!” He effused. 

“Aha!” And then there was Dustin Henderson. “I told you! I told all of you! And none of you wanted to believe me! I was right and you were wrong!” He pompously smiled, before turning to you and Eddie. “By the way, I was the first to know! I’ve been knowing for a week after you freaks forced me to lose my dice!” 

Eddie chuckled, as his hands stayed secured around you. “Actually, Dustin, Max was kinda the first to know. She found out four months ago, when she caught Y/N leaving my place at night.” He admitted. “Been blackmailed ever since; spent $20 on some damn heart-shaped sunglasses.” 

“Are you kidding me!” Dustin felt gobsmacked, betrayed and abandoned, like those damn Fritos. 

“Hey, but, uh, hats off to you, Robin.” Eddie smiled, offering a hand of congratulation. “Quite the competitor.” And she shook it proudly, another notch in whatever weird belt this was. 

“I still can’t believe you never told me.” Dustin gasped. “I mean, seriously, Max out of all people.” Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington, and Eddie Munson’s voices eventually faded into the background, as you managed to slip away from your boyfriend’s grasp to hold onto the hand of your best friend, while you whisked her away to the quiet corner of the living room. 

“Hey, so I just wanted to apologize to you real quick.” You softly smiled at Robin. “I mean, going through all this just because I kept this from you,” you sighed, “I’m just really sorry you were forced to date my boyfriend.” 

Robin laughed, as she squeezed your hand. “I’m sorry you’re forced to date him everyday.” She joked. “No, but seriously, you don’t have to apologize at all.” Her throat began to sting with the heftiness of her feelings, but she felt the warmth of fingers against hers, and Robin Buckley took her deep breath. “I understand why you did it- why you felt the need to hide.” 

“You do?”

“Yeah.” She tearfully smiled. “I feel the same way, just a little different. I just, um, I know what it’s like to want to keep something to yourself, because having to come out as something you know the world isn’t going to love is scary. It’s really scary, Y/N.” Her hand tightened, as her voice cracked. 

But in true Buckley style, that beautiful smile never left her face, as she told you her biggest fear. But what a shame it was that the world made her biggest fear her truest self. Your arms wrapped around her in a suffocating hug, where she let out a shaky sigh against your shoulder. “Robin,” you whispered into her hair, “I love you.” You implored. “Eddie does. Steve does. I hope you know that this town isn't worth being scared of.” You felt her shudder against you, as your hand soothed down her back. “Not when you’re so goddamn perfect.” Robin laughed, as she pulled away, clearing her eyes from any unspilled tears that threatened to stain her cheeks. “I know it’s easier said than done, but genuinely, don't waste your perfect self on what the world wants.” She digested your words, flashing you a thankful grin, as she steady to jumping nerves. “I mean, take it from the man himself, your date tonight, who’s univocally himself.”

You both turned to the kitchen, where Steve and Eddie had Dustin pinned, with a spring roll in hand, trying to shove it down the defiant kid’s mouth. “Jesus, I really am sorry you have to date him.” 

You both laughed, as you watched the commotion take place. And you looked at Eddie Munson, how effortlessly beautiful he was, and how comfortable those around him came to be in his accepting presence. “He’s not too bad.” You smiled. “Now, c’mon, we have Chinese and chardonnay to celebrate!” 

Finally letting the child go, Steve snagged the spring roll with a monumental bite of pleasure, before closely crowding into Eddie’s bubble. “No, but seriously, dude, how the hell did you do it?” Steve Harrington pointed to you, as Eddie Munson smiled.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Red BMW - Steve Harrington

summary: steve and reader are in a relationship and they just happen to have sex in the back of his car in a restaurant's parking lot. When they're done, a clueless Dustin knocks on their window. warnings: SMUT, car sex, almost getting caught 1.2k+ wc

You giggle loudly, dragging Steve by the hand as you run through the restaurant's parking lot, trying to find the right car. His red BMW lights up when he clicks his keys desperately, letting you tug the door to the backseat open, allowing him to climb over you, peeking out into the dark parking lot one last time before shutting the door closed. Steve chuckles when he turns back around to see you laying flat on your stomach, trying to shimmy your tight skirt over the curve of your butt. "Oh, that's how you want me sweetheart?" He only half-teases, knowing fully well that he enjoyed taking you from the back just as much as you did. "Yeah, Stevie." You mumble, gasping when he leans down to press a kiss onto the exposed nape of your neck, your hair falling to the side, dangling over the edge of the car seat.

Steve gropes the globes of your ass before hooking his fingers into the band of your thong and pulling it down your thighs. He quickly moves to undo his belt, pushing his trousers and boxers down his legs desperately, one hand already working itself into your entrance, two fingers pushing against your tight hole. "Steve I'm ready, just put it in." Your boyfriend laughs from over you, his deep voice only making you part your legs for him even more. Despite your words, he keeps pushing his fingers in you, quickly making work of stretching you out for his cock. "Come on Stevie, 'M so wet for your cock. Don't want your fingers." Steve fakes an offended gasp, finally pulling his fingers out of your entrance.

A loud gasp escapes you at the sudden emptiness, but it quickly turns into a moan when you feel Steve's hard cock pushing into you instead. Your body is supporting near to his full weight, his entire body pressed up right against yours as he begins rocking against you. You feel his dick dragging right up your cunt agonisingly slow, and you moan loudly, pushing your ass up against him. "Oh fuck sweetheart." Steve mutters against your neck, his forearms tucked underneath your shoulders so he can carry some of his weight off you. Your pussy throbs against his dick, and you try squeezing your legs for more friction, begging "Please. Don't tease, Steve."

The loud moan from him tells you he isn't lying when he replies with "Not teasing baby, just enjoying how you feel." But he speeds his pace up for you nonetheless, his pelvis making a loud smacking sound against your ass. You're sure the car is rocking with his strong movements, but the only thing you care about is your boyfriend's cock, and the way Steve starts sucking on the perfect spot on your neck. You whine at the extra stimulation, body jerky in pleasure. Steve's leg kicks the car door accidentally, barely fitting due to the inconvenient position you're in. His second leg rests on the car's floor, helping him push the rest of his body into you.

"Shit baby. I swear you were made perfect for me. Cunt's so tight around my cock." Steve's kisses move up your face, and his hand tugs your face to the side from where it's hidden in your arms. Your eyes are shut tightly in pleasure, mouth agape, letting your loud whines escape freely. His kiss on the corner of your mouth has your pussy pulsating against him, and you finally say "I'm so close Steve. You-you feel so-" Your words are cut off by a loud moan, a reaction to one of Steve's particularly hard thrusts. He pushes himself off his forearms and onto his hands, his knee squeezing itself between your thigh and the back of the carseat so that he can support himself on his leg, making his thrusts both harder and faster.

"Fuck!" You cry out. The sounds in the confined space were absolutely vile. Steve's new pace only made the sound of skin hitting skin louder, your loud moans paired with his raw grunts and whimpers creating a vulnerable environment. "Say my name baby." Steve begged, his thrusts becoming sloppy. You shifted your hips up, snaking a hand underneath you to rub circles on your clit. You moaned again, eyebrows furrowing "Steve, fuck Steve! M'gonna cum!" Steve's arms shook above you, panting loudly as he thrusted into you a few more times before moaning your name loudly, accompanying it with "Fuck, baby!"

His whines of your name had your thighs shaking, and you were coming undone within seconds, chanting Steve's name desperately. Your cunt squeezing his cock while you came triggered Steve's orgasm, and he cursed loudly, sweat dripping onto your back from his face as he shot spurts of cum into you. Steve's thrusts slowed, and he slowly let himself lay back down on you, rocking his hips slowly against you until you were gasping from the overstimulation, and his movements completely stilled. "Holy shit." Steve cursed, pressing his forehead next to yours against the carseat. "Holy shit is correct" You pant, chest heaving with each breath you took.

Steve pushed himself up and you whimpered as his dick pressed itself further into you before he pulled out completely, making you both moan at the sudden movement. You sat up so Steve could sit down next to you. Suddenly, he was pulling tissues out of the hidden box under the passenger seat, messily trying to clean you up before pulling your underwear back up and skirt down so that you were at least modest to some degree. You giggled at Steve's struggle, snatching the tissues from him to return the favour. Steve stuffed the dirty tissues into the door's compartment, leaning back against the seat to catch his breath fully.

Looking over at you with a wide grin, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him. You squealed, falling against him with a loud giggle. "Can I get a kiss now?" Your boyfriend kindly asked, smiling when you pressed yourself up against him, leaning up to kiss him softly. "You were so quick to get to business that I missed these gorgeous lips." He spoke against your lips. Cheeks flushing, you dug your head into Steve's chest, mumbling "Flirt."

A knock against the car window had you flinching, spinning around quickly to find Dustin standing out in the cold with a wide smile, waving frantically at you both. You looked back at Steve, unable to help the smile from making its way onto your face as you rolled the window down. "Hey Dustin!" You and Steve spoke in unison. "I knew I recognised this red BMW!" he cheered. "What are you doing here?" You asked. The boy grinned at you, holding up a paper bag with grease splotches on it. "Food!" "All alone?" Steve inquired, frowning when the boy nodded. "That's dangerous, Dustin." You scolded, opening the car door. "Hey, how come are you guys in the back seat?" He asked, sitting down next to you when you shuffled down to make more space for him.

You and Steve glanced at each other before you said "Uh, discussing life. Deep conversations, you know?" The boy looked at you for a moment, nodding while taking a sip from his drink before he frowned, pulling a disgusted face at you, evidently noticing how flushed your faces were. "Ew! Gross!" You giggled, pushing Steve out of the door he just opened on his side of the car and racing to the passenger seat and he hopped into the driver's seat. "Hey, no fair! Why do I have to sit in the back when you just had sex here!?"

[j2hoes]

All Your Fault (Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader)

Word Count: 12.5K

Summary: In no world could Y/N like Steve Harrington, that's what she kept telling herself despite everybody's insistence that he was a good guy. They couldn't possibly be right, could they?

Warnings - Mature Language, Suicide, Mentions Of Sex, Death, Injuries, Bullying, Drug Use

A/N: This is my longest fic yet and of course it's for the one and only Steve Harrington! Just wanted to say that I know this doesn't follow the exact plot and I have changed some things so it fits in with the storyline. Also I am not condoning bullying in any way, shape or form!! Not proofread so forgive me.

“Hey, dingus, we need a ride!”

My bedroom door swings open, just about slamming against the wall before the irritating voice of my younger brother reverberates throughout my bedroom. Startled by the noise, my head snaps in Dustin’s direction. Not expecting to see his little group of friends in tow or for them to be in the company of Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley. Who I know them to spend a lot of time with nowadays despite my incessant complaints about Harrington being quite possibly the worst person on planet.

“Dude! Knock much?” I groan, swiftly closing the notebook that I had previously been writing in, in order to avoid any wandering eyes. “I was in the middle of something!”

“What? Making out with your stuffed toys?” Dustin jokes, resulting in a few snickers from his friends and a roll of their eyes from the older teens.

“I’d be happy to make out with you.” Mike comments, my brother throwing a small tap to the back of his head in disapproval.

“Ew gross. Get out of my bedroom you little perverts!” 

“Listen dickhead, mom and dad have gone to the movies and if I’m remembering correctly they said you have to drive me places when they’re not here. So, we’ll be taking that ride now please.” 

“Fuck’s sake.” I grumble, combing my fingers through my hair in annoyance. “Doesn’t your new best friend Steve drive?”

My voice is laced with malice, eyes fixated on the older boy with a glare, eyebrows raised as I await his response. Not that I needed any confirmation, everybody in Hawkins knows that Steve drives. God, he never shuts up about his deep red BMW, it’s one of his more insufferable qualities.

“Yeah, my car is kind of in the garage right now. It’s gonna be out of action for a while.” He admits, cheeks flushing a soft scarlet indicating his embarrassment. 

“So that makes you our designated driver.” Dustin tells me, a smug look on his face as he knows that I have no option but to accept defeat. “Plus, your truck is a lot bigger than Steve’s car. You won’t even have to speak to us because we’ll sit in the bed!”

“Fine! But I am not giving you a ride home because I’ve got a shift at the roller rink tonight and I cannot afford to take another night off!” I state, reluctantly grabbing my keys and throwing my fur coat over my shoulders.

Making my way towards the group, they’re quick to make their way down the staircase, scurrying out the front door as though afraid I may change my mind at any given second. I take my time locking up the house, wanting to delay the inevitability of having Steve Harrington in my truck for as long as I physically can. Sure, it’s annoying having to cart my brother and his friends around the town of Hawkins at their will, but the kids, I can deal with. One of my childhood bullies, not so much. 

Strolling over to the garage, it’s hard to miss the way Steve and Robin stand close to one another, giggling like school girl’s at whatever they were discussing. With furrowed brows, I can’t help but wonder when they became friends. Not only is Robin a year younger than Steve and I, but she’s also the complete opposite of Steve’s normal company. After all, he is friends with cheerleaders and jocks, Buckley is in the school band and spends most of her free time studying other languages. There is no world in which they could possibly be friends and yet here they are.

“Steve and Robin are gonna ride up front with you.” Dustin speaks, clambering into the bed of the truck with very little grace.

“What? No, you can all get in the back!” I argue, offering Max a hand as she struggles to pull herself up.

“Sorry but eight of us back here is too much of a squeeze, guess you’ll just have to make do.” Lucas remarks, arguing my brother’s case for him, forcing me to plaster on a fake smile as if I couldn’t be happier.

“Okay. Let’s just hope I don’t crash on the way, I’d hate to see a six body pile up on the side of the road.” My tone is ominous and I catch the slight gleam of fear in each and every one of the kid’s eyes. “Where am I taking you assholes?”

“Starcourt please Y/N.” Max hastily replies, hand clutching the side of the truck so tight her knuckles are turning white and I smirk to myself as I close the tailgate, pleased I have managed to instill a sense of panic in the usually overly confident group.

Hopping up into the driver’s seat, I’m about to turn on the ignition when out of the corner of my eye, I register that Steve has taken it upon himself to choose the middle seat. Situating himself comfortably between Robin and I.

“Uh no. Not happening. You two need to switch sides.” 

“What why?” Steve questions and I could be wrong but I’m almost positive there is a twinge of hurt in his tone.

“Because I don’t mind Robin.” I smile sweetly at the girl, before replacing it with a scowl as my eyes lay on the chestnut haired doofus. “You, on the other hand, I’d rather take a knife to the eye, than sit besides you.”

As much as it feels like a punch to the gut when I spot the pained expression wash over Harrington’s face, it is completely overshadowed by the sense of pride that I feel at being able to make him feel small, the same way him and his posse of imbeciles did to me for years. I know, deep down, that I should be the bigger person, that just because he treated me poorly throughout our school years that I shouldn’t do the same to him. Yet, I’m resentful. I’m resentful and having accepted the cruelty of this world, I’m also bitter. No longer the sweet and optimistic young girl that I once was.

“Yeah, I actually can’t take the middle seat.” Robin confesses, an awkward smile resting on her face. “I get real bad claustrophobia.” 

With an exasperated huff, I focus my eyes on the road as we begin the drive, doing my best to ignore the passenger sitting beside me. Even if I am trying to distract myself, I’m unable to hide my annoyance, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard, I’m afraid it may shatter beneath me.

Fortunately it’s only a short ten minute drive to the Starcourt Mall, as long as traffic is in my favor, I should even shave off a couple of minutes. Though the silence within the small space is deafening, frustrating me even more. Before I can stop myself, I’m reaching over to turn on the radio, hoping the joyful melodies of Joe Jackson’s Steppin’ Out will boost my mood before my shift.

Unluckily for me, as I reach to grab the steering wheel once again, my hand lightly brushes over Steve’s hand, causing me to flinch away with such force it feels as though I have been electrocuted. 

“Sorry.” Steve mumbles, tucking his hands away into his pockets to avoid any more uncomfortable interactions.

“So, I’m sensing a teeny bit of tension here.” Robin comments, stating the obvious.

“Yeah, no shit Robin.” I snap, feeling my entire body go stiff at her teasing.

Glancing over at the two teens, I take note of the way Robin slumps down into the seat at my words. Folding her arms over her chest as if she’s a child that has just been scolded by their parents. 

“Why are the kids so desperate to go to Starcourt anyway?” I ask, not directing the question at either of them in particular in an attempt to change the subject, feeling slightly guilty at my previous outburst.

“Oh um, we’re meeting Eddie, just thought it’d be nice to take that bunch of losers out for the day you know. Nancy and Jonathan might even be joining us later too!” Robin explains, smiling to herself as she peers out the back window to make sure the kids are doing fine.

“Besides, they deserves a break with everything that’s been-”

“What Steve means to say is that they’ve had a lot on at the moment, what with school. We think they’re getting a little stressed.” Robin interrupts, doing her best to subtly elbow Steve’s stomach, though I’m able to spot it, mostly because his body jerks into mine as she does so.

“Why do I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me?” I ask, slyly peering over at them from the corner of my mouth.

“Nope, we’re not hiding anything.” Robin asserts, turning away from me to gaze out of the window.

“Yeah, nothing to tell. Definitely nothing going on.” Steve agrees, the haste in which they both answered only raising my suspicions.

Before I can question them even further, I realize I’m pulling into the Starcourt parking lot. Quickly finding a space and turning off the ignition, I don’t give the duo any time to get out of the car before I’m turning the child lock on, forcing them to remain in the vehicle with me.

“I swear to God, if my baby brother is in any sort of trouble and you haven’t told me, I’ll kill the pair of you, okay?” I ask, both of them nodding their heads furiously at my threat and leaping out of the passenger door the moment that I unlock it.

Rolling down my window, I can hear the kids hopping over the side of the truck, eagerly chattering amongst themselves at the plans they have made for the day. Tiny smile forming on my face as I light a cigarette, watching Dustin jokingly fight with Steve. The interaction holds no maliciousness, I can see no sign of the older boy deliberately trying to hurt him and for a split second I find myself questioning whether it could be possible that the great King Steve has changed in his ways. However, I’m quick to shake that thought away.

“Do my eyes deceive me or is that Y/N Henderson?” Eddie Munson’s voice calls from a mere few feet away.

“Oh shit.” I whisper, taking a long drag of my cigarette before jumping out of the truck and resting my back against the door, waiting for him to approach.

It’s safe to say Eddie and I have a complicated relationship. What started out as him simply being nothing more than my dealer, blossomed into a somewhat beautiful friendship. Considering we’re an unlikely duo, we have a lot in common. Sharing similar taste in films, books and sense of humor.

I suppose it was inevitable that we’d end up sleeping together. Fuelled by our drug induced state, we shared a very hot and very exciting night of passion together. Following with me sneaking out of his trailer first thing the next morning after I had slowly come to my senses and discerned that our relationship should remain just friends. Not wanting to pursue anything at this moment in time.

“Hey Eddie, it’s been a while.” I comment, flicking the ash from my cigarette onto the ground as he places an arm beside my head, caging me between his body and the truck.

“I never heard from you.” He speaks quietly, doing his best to avoid the attention of the group standing not too far from us.

“I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot going on.” I mumble, looking anywhere but the boy in front of me.

As my gaze finds the group, my eyes instantly fall upon Steve Harrington. He’s speaking to Max, clearly in some sort of debate with her that looks like it may be about to explode into a full blown argument, yet his attention is solely focused on me. Observing the close proximity between me and the metalhead. His eyes falling to my lips as I allow the smoke to exhale from my mouth.

“You know, you could at least look at me when I’m talking to you.” Eddie chuckles, attempting to hide the hurt undertone in his voice, head rotating to follow the direction of my eyeline.

“Sorry, I just don’t get what Harrington’s problem is. He’s been staring over here this entire time.” I tell him, finally staring up at the tall boy.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He asks, teasing smile resting upon his lips. I shake my head slowly, dropping the cigarette to the ground. “He thinks you’re hot.”

My hands slap against his chest instinctively, the idea being completely and utterly absurd to me that I have to laugh. 

“I’m serious! Look at you, you’re a fucking smoke show.” Eddie asserts, pushing his argument even more as he sneaks another glance over to the topic of our conversation. “Want me to prove it?”

The idea of Steve Harrington finding me even remotely attractive is so far off the table that I find myself entertained by the idea of proving Eddie wrong. I’m sure he’s simply intrigued by the idea of me and the freak being friends, nothing more. 

With a small nod, Eddie’s hands drop to my waist, touch as light as a feather to not push any boundaries that I may not be comfortable with. Playing along with his antics, I take the lapels of his leather jacket in my hands, pulling his body impossibly closer to mine. The hard expression on Steve’s face is difficult to miss as Eddie’s head rests in the crook of my neck, peppering gentle kisses along the base.

“Ew Eddie, come on man!  That’s my sister!” Dustin’s whines pull us back to reality and Eddie takes a dramatic step away from me to please the curly haired young boy.

Although we now stand with plenty of space between the two of us, Harrington’s face remains in the same cold expression as before. Jaw clenched tightly as his eyes flick between Eddie and I. Leaving me more confused than ever at what his problem is.

“Alright, see you later kids.” I shout, climbing back into my truck and leaving them in the capable hands of their babysitters. “Don’t be causing any trouble!”

***

Steve could think of nothing other than the mean girl that had reluctantly drove them to the mall. It didn’t matter how many stores they went in, or arcade games they played, he just couldn’t get her off his mind. Wondering why she had such a huge vendetta against him. What could he possibly have done to this girl, that he is almost certain he has never met before, to cause her to act in such an unpleasant way towards him.

He knew he hadn’t been the nicest of guys throughout high school, caring more about his popularity and how his friends perceived him than being a decent person. However, he was sure he’d remember if he had been rude to her. He was sure he wouldn’t have been rude to a girl like her. Hell, he was wondering why he hadn’t pursued her sooner. Her beauty indescribable and more radiant than any other girl he had seen before.

“Steve, what’s going on? I’m regretting picking you to be on my team!” Dustin exclaims, frustrated at the loss of yet another game due to Steve’s lack of focus.

“That was your sister?” He asks in disbelief, still completely overwhelmed by the limited interaction they had shared hours prior.

“Yeah, she’s a full on bitch right?” Dustin comments, unaware of his friend’s infatuation.

“Has she always been that unkind?” Steve asks, causing Dustin to look up at him with a questioning glint in his eye.

“Oh you got to face her wrath did you?” The younger boy laughs, amused at the thought of his normally cool and charming friend being bitched out by his older sister. “Yeah, she still hates you dude, never shuts up about you actually.”

“Wait, she talks about me?” His tone is hopeful, feeling pleased to know that he’s on her mind. I mean, that’s got to be a good sign, right?

“Calm down loverboy. It’s not a good thing.” Dustin smirks, though when he sees the downcast look on his friend's face, he can’t but sigh, patting him on the shoulder lightly. “Look, I think you’re cool, smart, charming, and some would say classically handsome but my sister usually refers to you as a no good, shit for brains, wank stain. Amongst other things, that’s usually her preferred term.”

Steve sighs at his words, combing his fingers through his hair awkwardly as he comes to terms with the fact that he quite possibly has a zero percent chance of becoming romantically involved with the intriguing girl. He knew that since leaving high school his luck with the ladies had severely dwindled, struggling to maintain a relationship that didn’t solely focus on sex, and yet, his heart sank a little lower knowing that the one girl that had truly piqued his interest was the one girl he would never stand a chance with.

Dustin, on the other hand, took pity on the boy he looked up to. Despite the countless tales of torture and misery that he knew Steve had put his sister through during their school years, he knew that the boy had changed. Sure, he’d felt sympathy towards Steve when he ended up working at Scoops Ahoy following his graduation, knowing how much it took a hit to his ego that he’d lost his King Steve title and was now serving children scoops of ice cream every passing day. However, he knew that the shitty job was a good thing for his friend, alongside his role as the unofficial group babysitter and assisting in their pursuit to save Hawkins, Dustin knew deep down that taking such a low blow was Steve’s saving grace. Reminding him that he wasn’t in fact above everybody else and truly changing him for the better. The young boy had seen it, but he also couldn’t blame his sister for being blind to it.

“Look Steve, I know that you’re a good person and I know that you’ve changed but you put Y/N through hell. She struggled a lot at the hands of you and your friends and I know she’d kill me for telling you this but she’s been in therapy since she was fourteen years old because of what you guys did to her. We were really worried about her actually.” Dustin admits, Steve’s breath catching in his throat as he hears the shakiness in the boy’s voice. “My parents still are. She didn’t even bother applying to college, and now she spends most of her time hiding herself away in her room or getting high with Eddie.”

“Dustin I’m so sorry, I don’t even remember her.” Steve states, struggling to get over the sinking feeling in his stomach that seems to be consuming him.

“Of course you don’t remember her, you only thought about yourself and your stupid friends back then.” Those words hit Steve like a ton of bricks, never had anybody truly called him out on his former behavior, not to this extent anyway. “Look, you just need to show her you’re a good guy, I’m not gonna say it’ll be easy because if I know Y/N, then I know she can be a cruel, heartless bitch, but I also know that she has a good heart and as long as you can prove to her that you’re sorry and that you’ve changed then she’ll come around. Maybe just wait until after we’ve destroyed the Mind Flayer.”

***

Monday nights at the roller rink are always notoriously quiet, only a couple of people passing through our doors for the majority of the night. I’ve argued with my manager on numerous occasions, pleading with him to change our closing time from eleven to nine, but to no avail, I fail every single time. As a punishment for doing so, I’m placed on almost every monday night shift alone, which wouldn’t be too bad, had I something to do. Instead I stand at the counter, lazily snacking on some popcorn that I most definitely didn’t pay for, awaiting any customers that may wander into the building.

Hearing the large doors squeak open, I immediately straighten my posture, my best winning smile slapped on my face as I prepare to serve the group that just strolled through the doors. That is until I see the group just so happens to be the same group that I dropped off at the mall earlier in the day. Smile dropping from my face almost instantly.

“What do you want?” 

“Don’t you mean, welcome to Paradise Skate World, how can I be of assistance?” Eddie jokes, leaning against the countertop.

“No, I mean what do you want?”

Wasting no time, the group excitedly shout their shoe sizes at me, a flurry of words and numbers that I struggle to understand. After swapping a few pairs multiple times, I finally manage to line nine pairs of rollerskates along the countertop, the kids frantically grabbing at them and discarding their personal shoes all over the floor. Not caring to use the cubby holes provided.

“That’ll be twenty seven dollars please.” My voice is monotonous, not caring to be pleasant with them, not that they seem to care.

Steve doesn’t speak as he hands over thirty dollars, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’ as I hand him his change. He sits beside Robin on one of the dirty old benches, helping her to lace up the boots before slowly escorting her over to the rink where she is left in the capable hands of the younger teens. Who, for whatever reason, all seem to be incredibly confident on eight wheels.

Having lost sight of Steve as my attention was fixed on the kids gleefully skating around the rink, I round the counter preparing to pick up all of their discarded shoes, only to see the boy already on the floor matching pairs of shoes together.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” I tell him, joining him on the carpet to gather together the rest of the shoes.

If I didn’t dislike him so much, I’d think his actions were sweet. Paying for the entire group and cleaning up after them, he’s a customer service worker's dream, yet I still can’t help but feel resentful. Why couldn’t he have been like this in high school?

“I know, but those guys make so much mess that it’s not fair to leave it all for you to clean up.” Steve comments, placing the last pair of shoes in one of the cubby holes. He rises to his feet slowly before offering his hand to help me up. However, I choose not to accept his help, rising to my feet without his assistance.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

He smiles softly at me, returning to the bench to remove his own shoes and placing the rollerskates on. When he rises from the bench, I can’t help but giggle at the shakiness in his legs, standing like a baby deer, he just about makes it to the countertop before needing to grab hold of it in order to keep himself upright. Resulting in a loud laugh from me, finding much amusement in the situation.

“Need some help Harrington?” I ask through my roars of laughter, having to cover my mouth to keep my volume down as he looks at me with sheer panic in his eyes.

“You sure you don’t wanna just stand there and laugh at me in my time of need?” He questions, flashing a cheesy smile my way to ensure I know that he is joking.

With a small sigh, I make my way over to him, taking his hands in mine, forcing him to let go of the countertop that he was clutching onto. 

“I may not like you Steve Harrington, but I’m not gonna let you fall on your ass like an idiot, not with the kids watching.” I state, walking backwards at a snail’s pace to allow him to find his feet. “Besides, it’s company policy to offer a hand when needed.”

Steve laughs at my words, a deep chuckle that causes my mouth to quirk upwards. Am I actually smiling in the presence of Steve Harrington? Shaking my head, I rid myself of the contentment on my face. 

“I’m going to embarrass myself aren’t I?” He asks, staring over my shoulder towards the rink with worry. “I don’t know why they thought this was a good idea, I’ve never skated in my life.”

“That’s probably exactly why they wanted to come here. They get to embarrass you and they also get to annoy the fuck out of me at the same time.” 

“I’ll try my best to keep them from annoying you, it’s the least I can do after ruining your peaceful evening.” His voice is soft, and I find myself unable to look away from his face.

It comes as no shock that the boy is attractive, he had girls falling over their feet for him since the moment he hit puberty. I’d never understood the obsession with King Steve, though I suppose I’d never been this close to him before. Never able to see how boyishly handsome he was. 

Chestnut brown hair that falls lazily over his forehead, coffee coloured eyes that hold a deep softness and a cheeky twinkle. His nose falls in a perfect slope, lips plump in a gorgeous salmon color with a sprinkling of light freckles scattered across his face. He truly is the epitome of beauty, it’s just such a shame that his personality is completely lacking.

I’m snapped out of my trance when I feel the hardwood of the rink beneath my feet, hesitantly letting go of Steve’s hands as he pushes himself forward ever so slowly. Testing the waters as to how far he can go without falling flat on his face.

“Well you did it. Now you just have to show that pack of dickheads that their ploy to embarrass you isn’t going to work.” 

He smiles at my comment, opening his mouth to say something in return, however, I spin myself around and hastily walk back to my position at the counter before he can say anything. Muttering a small ‘have fun’ as I do so. Not wanting to be entranced by him further and not wanting to forget about all the shit he put me through just because we had a fairly nice interaction for all of ten minutes.

In an effort to distract myself, I busy myself with cleaning any and every surface behind the counter. Very unusual behavior for me, but at this point, I would do anything to get the thought of Steve possibly being a good person out of my mind. Even if I have to spend my time cleaning to do so. Though, I guess anything is better than gazing longingly over at the boy in the rink and trying to ignore the racing of my heart.

“You know, I used to think Steve was a bad guy too.”

Robin’s voice startles me as I don’t notice her standing by the counter, she’s smirking playfully at me. 

“How the fuck are you and him friends? I mean, no offense but you’re exactly the type of person whose life he would’ve ruined in high school.” I don’t mean to come across as rude but my tone definitely says otherwise, Robin raising her eyebrows at my statement, clearly taking offense.

“Steve has a good heart, he’s doing his best. I know it’s not my place to say anything and I have no idea what went down between the two of you but what I do know is that if he can reconcile with Nancy, Jonathan and Eddie then perhaps that’s a sign you should give him a chance.” Robin remarks and against my best judgment, my eyes instantly find him out on the floor of the rink. Max and El hold his hands as they drag him around, all proudly displaying their delight.

“He did a lot of fucked up shit to me Robs.” I sigh, knowing that no matter how much I want to forgive him, I’ll most likely take my hatred to the grave. “They all did.”

The girl follows my lead and releases her own sigh, reaching across the countertop to take my hands in her’s. Thumbs gently stroking the backs of my palms.

“I know, I’m not going to excuse his behavior. He was a complete asshole, even when I first met him, I thought he was an asshole but he proved me wrong. Trust me, I never thought I’d be over here vouching for Steve Harrington of all people.” Robin’s gaze never leaves mine as she speaks, asserting just how much she truly means the words she’s saying. “Just maybe try to let go of that grudge you’re holding, I reckon you two would actually make pretty good friends.”

***

Regardless of how much I tossed and turned, Robin’s words kept me awake for hours. Unable to sleep and with no sign of tiring myself out anytime soon, I decided to do the next best thing. Hence why I am now sitting on one of the many docks stretching out into the depths of Lovers Lake. Joint in hand as I try to process all the emotions I had managed to bury deep within me for so long.

The joint does nothing to soothe my shaking body, though I’m unsure of whether it’s from the frosty fall air or the recent events that seem to have dredged up everything in my past that I had tried to forget, either way, I wrap my fur coat tighter around myself as a weak attempt to ease the shaking. God, if only Dustin hadn’t gone and befriended the one person that caused me so much pain.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize anybody would be here.” The voice from behind catches me by surprise, not expecting anybody else to be down here at two am. Glancing over my shoulder, I can’t help but laugh at the world’s cruel sense of humor as the person racing through my mind stands only mere feet away. “Wait, are you crying?”

Raising a trembling hand to my face, I feel the dampness of my cheeks, clearly too high to discern that I had in fact been crying. The fact causing me to laugh once more and Steve’s face floods with one of worry, hesitantly trudging towards me and taking a seat beside me, swinging his feet over the side of the dock in the same manner as mine.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, genuinely seeming to care about the reason for my tears, tone soft with no evidence of an ulterior motive.

“No.” I admit, offering him a weak smile whilst quickly wiping the tears away that roll down my face. “No, I’m not okay and I haven’t been for such a long time and I don’t even know why I’m telling you this because it’s all your fault.”

Steve’s mouth opens to speak and yet no words come out. Guilt scrawled across his face as he attempts to come up with the words to comfort me. Once again, I can’t help but laugh at the humorous nature of the situation. I’ve never opened up to anybody about how I’m truly feeling, hell, even my therapist doesn’t know the half of it but who feels comfortable enough to voice their darkest thoughts to a complete stranger in a very clinical setting? I’m going to blame the joint for my willingness to open up to the one person who I’d rather never speak to again.

“It’s probably really shitty of me and you probably don’t want to hear it but I am so sorry Y/N. Truly, I can’t even begin to describe how sorry I am.” Steve tells me, voice shaking and almost catching in his throat, however, he never once looks away from me. Forcing himself to own up to what he did. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Taking a drag of the joint, we remain in silence for a few moments, the only sounds to be heard are that of my repeated sniffles. It’s almost comforting in a way that the boy doesn’t speak, not rushing me nor pressuring me to accept his apology. 

“It’s funny you know, I thought I would’ve moved on from it by now. I thought that as soon as I graduated I would’ve been able to forget everything that you and your friends did to me and leave it all in the past.” I state, not even knowing where to start. I never expected to be in this position, never thought I’d get the chance to confront the monsters from my childhood but as he sits before me, he doesn’t seem to be much of a monster. “You and Carol and Tommy, you guys destroyed me. You hated me so much that I began to hate myself and I’ve never recovered from that.”

Steve lets out a sharp exhale, causing me to look over at him and what I see shocks me deeply. Although he’s trying his best to hide it, I don’t miss the tears that fall slowly down his cheeks. Guilt consuming him as he comes to terms with his actions and the direct consequences they had as a result.

“I almost killed myself, Steve.”

My words hit him like a knife to the chest and his head is snapping to face me so fast, I fear he may have given himself whiplash. Mouth slightly open in shock as he processes what I just confessed.

“You, you wh-”

“You’re not to blame for that. I could never blame you for that.” I whisper, feeling lighter as I open myself up more and more for the very first time.

“How, how did-” Steve stops himself before he speaks, this time it’s him that’s wiping away tears. “What happened?”

I know Steve is questioning whether it’s appropriate to ask. Unsure of whether I’m willing to talk about the most traumatic most of my life thus far, especially with him. With nerves coursing through my veins, I shakily offer him the joint, he accepts with a small smile, slowly taking a long drag, allowing the weed to flood through his body.

“Junior year. I think I’d been planning it for a while, or at least thinking about it. That day, I think you must’ve been at a basketball game or something, Carol and Tommy they-” I sob hysterically, feeling so much shame as I explain everything to him. “They cornered me in an alley as I was walking home. It was just the usual insults, but when I didn’t react they got angry. I don’t really remember it all, I think I’ve tried to black it out but I woke up unconscious in that alley, and I just remember feeling so at peace when I laid there.

So I went home, ran straight up to my room because I didn’t want anybody to see me. As soon as I looked in the mirror, I just felt disgusting. My eye was all swollen and my face was just covered in bruises and scratches. Not that I felt beautiful before, but I felt hideous. 

I’d been hoarding my pills for weeks at that point and I just began to take them. Handfuls at a time, I think I got about halfway through my stockpile before my mom walked in. She was screaming and crying and I couldn’t do anything, I just passed out.”

“Fuck.” Steve whispers, trying to suppress his own sniffles.

“I was in the hospital for about a week, apparently they pumped my stomach and I only have very minor damage to my internal organs. I had to practically beg them not to take me to the psych ward though.” I chuckle at the memory, pleading with the doctors that I was fine and it was all just a mistake, even though that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“I had no idea that Carol and Tommy did that to you.” Steve admits, dropping the joint into the lake as he clenches his fists tightly at the thought of what took place in that alleyway. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I could spend my life apologizing to you and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

I’ve never seen Steve so emotional before, candidly breaking down in the most vulnerable way as he allows his sobs to be released. Face flushed scarlet and throat raw from how much he is wailing. I thought I would feel better if I made him feel the same as he made me feel. If I made him cry so hard that he thought he would never feel happiness again. However, seeing him in this state doesn’t even make me the tiniest bit happier. It doesn’t bring me an ounce of joy to see the boy this way no matter how much I thought I would.

In all honesty, it hurts more so knowing that my words are the cause of the pain and turmoil that Steve is in right now. As much as I had built up such a cold and callous exterior trying desperately to protect myself from the harshness of this world, I know deep down that internally, I’m nothing like I portray myself to be.

Once he gains his composure, Steve manages to speak through deep breaths, “Do you know what’s funny?”

His question throws me off guard, tilting my head and raising a brow, alerting him of my piqued interest.

“I’ve also tried to block out most of high school. I didn’t even recognise you today and couldn’t understand why you were acting the way you were. Which I now realize makes me sound like even more of a dickhead.” He laughs quietly, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck to relieve the tension within him. “As soon as I got home, I spent hours, staring at your pictures in the yearbook, remembering everything that we put you through. I’ve never felt more guilty about something in my life and I felt disgusted with myself that I would treat such a beautiful person as though they were anything but.”

“You’re just saying that.” I retort, not wanting to believe that he would spend so long staring at the photos of me that I hated so much. Not only that but not wanting to believe he could find such photos of me to be beautiful.

“I mean it! I was a stupid, pathetic little boy that just wanted to prove myself to the people that I thought were cool. I never thought about the effect my actions were having on people and now that high school’s over, none of that popularity shit matters.” He states, wishing that he could take back all of the cruel things he did to his peers. “None of it matters. I’m a fucking loser now. I work at an ice cream store in the mall where I have to wear a stupid sailor’s outfit, I have no college prospects, no girlfriend and I hang out with a bunch of sixteen year olds in my spare time. All that high school shit, it means nothing now.”

“You’re not a loser Steve Harrington.” I giggle, nudging his shoulder gently with my own. “You’ve just made some very poor decisions that are now biting you on the ass.”

“Hey, why aren’t you at college? If the yearbook is anything to go by you were one of the smartest people in our grade.”

I try not to feel upset by the boy’s question, knowing he means no harm. However, I also know that as much as Steve has made poor decisions, so have I. Decisions that directly affected my path to college and resulted in me working at the roller rink.

“Didn’t study those yearbooks well enough clearly.” I joke, believing that if I’m able to laugh about my situation then perhaps I won’t burst into tears yet again. “Last year I kind of gave up with school. After what happened junior year, I just didn’t see the point in trying anymore. Started skipping classes and when I was there I was too high to learn anything. My grades dropped and so did my chances at college.”

“I really fucked things up for you didn’t I?” Steve asks, tone suggesting it’s more of a statement rather than I question.

“The roller rink isn’t so bad, I mean I get to skate for free and the pay is pretty good.” 

I can tell he doesn’t quite believe me, he knows I’m bothered about not going to college, despite this, he doesn’t push me. Doesn’t force me to admit the truth. For that, I’m thankful.

Casting my gaze over the lake, the first light of the sun shines bright through the treeline. A warm amber glow, illuminating the still water beneath my feet. Birds wake from their slumber and their faint chirps echo across the lake. There’s something so peaceful within this moment and for the first time in years I feel as though a weight has been lifted from my chest. One that I was unaware had been weighing me down.

“I should probably be getting home before my parents wake up. Really don’t need to be giving my parents another reason to worry about me.” I state, steadily rising to my feet, the warmth instantly escaping my body as the sharp breeze nips at the full length of my body.

“Yeah, I should get back too, I should at least try to get some sleep before work.” Steve comments, walking in step with me along the dock.

We walk in silence, the sound of the dark oak creaking beneath our feet. A solemn cloud follows us as we head back to reality, most likely never to speak of this night again. Neither one of us wanting to reflect on the distress we shared at Lovers Lake.

“I think maybe people are right about you.” I declare upon reaching my truck, much to the shock of the boy standing opposite.

“What?” He asks, in disbelief at the confession I had just made.

“I think that maybe you are a good guy.” 

***

“Have you taken your pills today?” My mom checks, shaking the little orange pill bottle on my desk as though she can feel if it is lighter than yesterday.

“Of course I have.” I mumble, dragging my hands across my face, exhausted from the late night I had endured.

“I’m only checking sweetheart, you know I worry about you.” She wraps her arms around me from behind as she speaks, squeezing me tightly, more so for her own comfort rather than mine. “Now, your dad and I are leaving town for a few nights. He has a meeting up in Indianapolis, but if you don’t feel like you’re well enough to stay here alone with Dusty then I am more than happy to stay behind.”

“Mom, I’ll be fine, honestly.” I whine, feeling guilty that she dwells on my wellbeing so much. “I promise.”

I love my parents. I really and truly do, more than anything on this earth. Nevertheless our relationship has been somewhat strained since the events of sophomore year. My mom treats me like I’m made of glass, one wrong move and I’ll shatter into one million tiny pieces. My dad is arguably even worse, refusing to even acknowledge what took place nor speaking on the topic of my mental stability. Dustin tries his hardest to make things feel normal, but there’s only so much a sixteen year old can do to try and hold their family in place.

Not only do I feel guilty about the way I make my parents stress about me, but I also feel guilty for the way this has affected Dustin. Our parents are often so preoccupied with ensuring that I’m well and doing fine, that they often forget about their other child. Sometimes, it feels as if I’m the only person that notices Dustin’s presence. Or lack thereof, what with him spending more and more time with his friends and Steve. Frequently returning home stressed, anxious or just generally in a bad mood and in all honesty his behavior has started to concern me. Though it appears that I may have been the only one to notice.

“I need a ride to Starcourt.” As if on cue, Dustin’s head pops around my bedroom door, demanding yet another ride.

“Your manners really could use some work kid.” I tell him, to which he shrugs and I find myself grabbing my keys with less reluctance than I had the previous day.

The drive to the mall passes by a lot faster than it had on the uncomfortable journey the day before. Filled with Dustin singing at the top of his lungs to whatever cheesy pop song was playing on the radio and me secretly hoping deep down that I’ll catch a glimpse, or even better a chance to talk to Steve again. 

My former bully had somehow managed to penetrate my thoughts ever since we departed ways in the early hours of the morning. Consumed by the thoughts of where we go from here, was our emotional conversation reserved for that one night only or would we develop a casual friendship? As much as I was pretending like nothing had happened, I was itching to know how Steve was feeling.

Before I know it, I’m turning off the ignition and the boy in question is directly in my eyeline. Lazily smoking a cigarette against the side of the entrance to the mall. Presumably waiting for my little brother in order to escort him into Scoops Ahoy, so he is unable to cause any mischief on his way to the store.

Steve spots my truck almost instantly and I could be mistaken, but it certainly looks as though his eyes lock on mine straight away. I hardly register Dustin jumping out of the truck as Steve flicks the cigarette butt to the ground, strolling towards the truck and before I can stop myself I’m climbing out of my seat. Much to the surprise of my brother.

“Hi.” Steve mumbles nervously, a soft rose tint settling upon his cheeks.

“Hi.” I reply just as awkwardly, my face no doubt the same shade as his.

“Okay, this is weird. I’m just gonna-” Dustin uncomfortably points towards the main doors before hurrying off in that direction, eager to get away from whatever is happening between Steve and I.

“So about last night-”

“I want to forgive you.”

We both speak at the same time, sharing anxious smiles as neither of us dares to make the first move. Though after taking a deep breath, I find myself being the one to break the tension.

“I want to forgive you. I meant what I said, that I think you’re a good guy.” I state, timidly picking at my fingers as I try to look anywhere other than the dark haired boy. “I don’t think I’m fully there yet, I think I’ve still got some shit that I need to work through but I’d like to. You don’t deserve to be hated for the stuff you did as a kid, especially when I can see how hard you’re trying to be a better person.”

I’ve barely finished speaking when Steve’s arms are wrapped firmly around my shoulders, pulling me into a firm hug and for whatever strange reason, I hug him back. Cautiously sliding my arms around his toned waist and allowing my head to rest against his chest. Inhaling his scent deeply, an intense sandalwood with a hint of cigarette smoke and despite all of my logic within me screaming to snap out of it, I can’t resist his musk, finding myself strongly intoxicated by it.

“I swear you won’t regret it, I’m going to spend every day making it up to you for as long as I live.” Steve mutters into my hair, gently pulling away from me once he stops speaking.

“How about we start with a free ice cream and go from there?” I ask cheekily, causing him to beam cheerfully at me with a swift nod.

“I’m sure I can manage that.” He laughs, before we make our way into the mall, joining the group of kids inside Scoops Ahoy, much to Dustin’s disapproval at my presence.

Sliding into the booth besides Max, I’m acutely aware of the way the group huddles closer together, voices lowering to no louder than a whisper. Even Eddie Munson, who’s voice can usually be heard for miles, speaks in a hushed voice. 

Narrowing my eyes, I try to pick up any of the conversation, only able to hear certain words here and there. Their side of the table is scattered with papers and I’m able to make out what looks like a map of Starcourt. Although I am completely baffled, if not slightly annoyed at their secrecy, I can only assume that this has something to do with one of their Dungeons and Dragons campaigns.

“You and Harrington made up then?” Robin inquires when I join her at the counter, resting my elbows against the cool marble.

“Kind of. I don’t know, we talked for hours last night and as much as I want to hate him, I just can’t.”

Robin can sense how difficult it is for me to acknowledge my willingness to believe her friend has changed. She knows that it’ll be a long road going forward, and yet she’s unable to hide her pride. Not only at her friend for accepting the suffering he caused, but also at my openness to trust that somehow Steve isn’t such a bad guy.

“Yeah I’ve heard, he hasn’t been able to talk about anything else other than the heart to heart you two shared last night. I’m really proud of him, he’s come a long way.” Robin explains, busying herself with preparing a milkshake that she smoothly slides my way with a knowing wink. “Consider that on me, you deserve it, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to make my childhood bullies confront their own actions the same way you did. It took real guts.”

“As much as I would like to take credit, I think the weed was probably more to thank.” I disclose, taking a short sip of the strawberry treat in front of me. “I have a tendency to get real honest when I’m high.”

“Don’t I know it sweetheart.” Eddie chortles, dipping his finger into the cream atop my milkshake and licking it off dramatically.

“Ew get your own!” I groan, pulling the glass away from the metalhead as he tries to swipe some more cream.

“Where’s Harrington anyway? Those little dickheads are going over our game plan and apparently he is a pivotal part in their plan and is needed right away.” The boy asks Robin, eyes scanning the room as if Steve is hiding in one of the red leather booths.

“He’s in the back, apparently he wanted to make Y/N’s ice cream extra special.” Robin speaks, nodding her head towards the staff only door.

“What’s he gonna do? Jizz on it?” The moment the words leave his mouth, Robin and I are both groaning, disgusted by the question.

“Do you have to be so repulsive all of the time?” I ask, hearing the squeak of a door followed by rapid footsteps.

“I didn’t hear any complaints when my mouth was between your legs!”

“That’s because you can’t speak whilst you're down there!”

So caught up in our current argument, I fail to spot Steve uneasily standing at the other side of the counter. A large scoop of cherry ice cream sits in a tub before him, decorated elegantly with a large helping of sprinkles, pieces of chocolate and a singular maraschino cherry placed neatly on top.

“Is this a bad time?” He questions hesitantly, carefully observing Eddie and I, a twinge of what I can only perceive as jealousy flashes across his face. However, it disappears before I analyze it any further. 

“No, no. Not a bad time at all.” The words tumble out of my mouth with haste, Robin struggling to hide the amused expression on her face as she witnesses the tension between us.

“One scoop of cherry swirl, with all the toppings. On me, as promised.” He announces gleefully, pushing it towards me with a small plastic spoon, which I am more than happy to accept.

“Thank you.”

I delicately place the cherry between my lips, pulling it from the stem which I then twist between my fingers absentmindedly. Though, I feel the warmth rising to my cheeks as I catch sight of the three of them staring at me, eyes trained on my mouth.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone that can make eating fruit look so hot.” Eddie comments, pupils blown out causing me to grimace.

“Hey Steve! We need to go over the plan!” Lucas’ yell, alleviates the awkwardness of the current situation.

“Always the goddamn babysitter.” He mutters under his breath, offering me an apologetic glance before meandering over to the group of youths, Eddie Munson in tow.

“Now I don’t want to alarm you, especially not with how fresh your reconciliation with Steve is but I think he may have a teeny tiny crush on you.” Robin whispers, moving her head closer to mine in an effort to remain inconspicuous. 

“What? No, no, he’s just being nice is all.” I shut down her theory quickly, fixating my gaze on the melting ice cream so as not to reveal the bashfulness slapped across my face. “Anyway, what’s that all about? New campaign? I didn’t think D&D would be the sort of things you and Steve would be into.”

“I see what you’re doing and I’m just going to go along with it.” Robin says, referencing the fact that I am so obviously trying to change the subject. She turns away from, as she continues to speak, occupying herself with refilling the toppings station. “It’s just a stupid thing they’re planning, some big quest. Steve and I just kind of got roped into it I guess, but it’s not so bad.”

Her response is vague and leaves me with more questions than I previously had, not entirely believing that her and Steve could possibly be lame enough to enjoy the fictional realms of Dungeons and Dragons. I let it slide though, thankful that she didn’t push me to discuss the possibility of Steve Harrington liking me and so I return the favor. Accepting that there is a very probable, most likely embarrassing reason that they’re not telling me about their secret activities.

***

Most young people would kill for the opportunity to have an empty house. It’s the time to throw wild parties or hook up with a guy without having to sneak around or risk being caught by nose parents. Or even worse, younger siblings. Had I been a normal eighteen year old girl, there was no doubt in my mind that I would be doing exactly that.

Instead, I’m lounging on my bed, recapping the events of the past couple of days to my diary as I try to fill the deafening sound of silence with the beautiful vocals of Stevie Nicks. I’d never truly realized just how eerie and isolating our home could be without the usual noise of my family. No football game broadcast on the television, or the clattering of pots in the kitchen, not even the sound of Dustin screaming down his walkie talkie. It fills me with a sense of unease that I can’t seem to shake.

Just as I’m about to try and fill the void by running the bathtub to take a relaxing soak, I become distracted by the high pitched shrill of the phone on my bedside table. Curiosity engulfing me and I wonder who could be calling me at such a late hour. Better yet, who has got the phone number that is usually only reserved for Eddie or my parents.

“Y/N, I don’t have much time so you have to listen to me carefully!” Steve’s voice is full of panic as he hurriedly speaks down the line, my body instantly going stiff at the urgency of his tone. “I’m so sorry and I should’ve told you sooner but Dustin was adamant that he wanted to keep you out of it.”

“Out of what? What’s going on? Is Dustin okay?” 

“I can’t explain other the phone, you’d never believe me anyway, but we really need your help. Just get to the Starcourt as soon as you can, please. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.” Steve spits out, the uproar of what sounds like wind almost drowning him out. “And bring a weapon!”

With that, the line cuts off. I remain still, nostrils flared as my hands continue to hold on to the phone, knuckles white. My heart feels like it is about to burst violently out of my chest and I struggle to gain my composure with such short, rapid breaths.

“Okay, it’s gonna be okay. I’m sure it’s nothing, they probably just need a ride again.” I mumble to myself, grabbing my keys and racing down the stairs. “Yeah, that makes total sense, I mean a girl should always carry a weapon when alone at night.”

Hands trembling furiously, I stand opposite my dad’s rifle cabinet, staring at the gun through the sheer glass. Questioning whether I’m truly about to take his property. I’ve only shot a gun once, I was twelve and my dad took me hunting. It didn’t become a regular thing, my dad refusing to take me again after I burst into tears upon shooting a deer.

Despite the fear racing through my body, before I can even think about what I’m doing, I’m grabbing a vase off one of the shelves. Using all of my strength to smash it straight into the glass, thousands of miniscule shards flying everywhere. Flinching as it hits me with force, ripping open small wounds across the exposed skin of my face, neck and arms. Though I only really register the injuries on my hand, the flesh of my knuckles shredded brutally from where my hand made contact with the pane. Vase doing little to take the extent of the collision.

A shaky exhale escapes my throat, grabbing the rifle despite my second thoughts. Sticky, crimson liquid dripping against the heel of the gun, staining the burnt mahogany. 

“Sorry dad.” I speak quietly, frowning slightly upon seeing the mess of broken glass across the lounge.

In my hurry to leave, I don’t even bother to lock the doors of our house. Focusing on nothing other than getting to Starcourt as quickly as I physically can. Throwing the gun carelessly on my passenger seat, I’m in autopilot as I start the engine. My driving being much more reckless than usual, ignoring speed limits and stop signs in my race to get to the mall. 

The closer I get, the more I start to question what type of danger I am just about to get myself into. Sky above the large building an array of violet and sapphire amidst the dark black of the night. Wind whirling harshly around my truck, the closer I get. It feels reminiscent of a tornado, a ruthless storm that holds no mercy.

Arriving in the parking lot, I’m able to see a singular car parked by the entry doors. Nancy, Jonathan, Will and Lucas scurry around the vehicle, clearly in search of something and don’t seem to care at all about the volatile weather that Hawkins is experiencing.

“Hey, what’s going on? Where’s Dustin?” I shout, rifle in hand as I sprint towards the burgundy car. The group ignoring my arrival and instead climbing into the vehicle’s interior.

Squeezing myself in besides Will and Lucas, it’s only at that moment that they acknowledge me. Faces ranging from confusion, to shock, to anger. Not a single one of them displays any positive emotion at my being there.

“What are you doing here?” Jonathan asks, voice raised and tone harsh, wounding me more so than I thought possible.

“Where the fuck is Dustin?” I spit, solely caring about ensuring the safety of my baby brother. Knowing that if anything happened to him I would never forgive myself. “Where the fuck is my brother?”

‘I don’t know, okay Y/N. He’s with Erica!” Nancy yells, preoccupied with pulling open the glove compartment and rooting around urgently.

“Erica? Erica as in your ten year old sister?” I snap, attention diverted towards Lucas who stares at me with worry, afraid of how I am about to react. “What the actual fuck?”

“Look I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we’re kind of in the middle of something and you really shouldn’t be here.” Nancy tells me, finally turning herself to look at me from the passenger seat.

I’ve never seen her look so troubled, face free of makeup and stress lines prominent. She’s too young to look as agonized as she does, asserting to me that whatever is currently taking place is far beyond what I could have ever imagined. Far more threatening than anything I could dream up. 

“I think I’ve got it.” Jonathan announces, a chorus of relieved sighs escaping the group. 

“Get it started then.” Nancy pushes, watching anxiously as Jonathan begins to fiddle with the car wires, hands clammy from the stress of the current circumstances.

“Guys, we could have a problem.” Will mutters, eyes trained out of the window to the otherside of the parking lot.

A car sits ominously, headlights pointing directly towards us. Nancy and Jonathan both curse under their breath, and despite having no knowledge about what is taking place, even I can understand that this is clearly not a good sign. Even worse when the vehicle begins to drive slowly straight at us.

Unaware of my own actions and unable to stop myself, I’m rounding the car confidently. Standing right in the path of the oncoming vehicle, I raise the rifle, releasing the safety and pointing directly towards what I can assume is the driver’s seat. Struggling to see effectively against the bright beam of the headlights.

My move seems to threaten the driver, the car gaining speed and barrelling at us with no sign of stopping. Despite the fear that has overcome me since receiving Steve’s call, whilst standing in the path of immediate peril, I feel weirdly at ease. Unbothered by the potential risk of death that I am face to face with. 

“What are you doing?” I hear Nancy scream, her voice sounds as though it is miles away when I know in reality she is almost right behind me, tucked away inside the automobile.

Steadying my breath, I squint my eyes in an attempt to better my aim, before releasing the trigger. Having no time to think about the consequences of my actions nor the moral implications of shooting at a living being that formerly plagued my mind, releasing bullet after bullet as the driver steps on the gas. Accelerating at such an extreme pace that I can only fire so much before having to accept my twisted fate.

With the car only mere feet away, I drop the gun, fearing that no matter how well I shoot, there is no winning this fight. Grabbing my head, in a weak attempt to protect myself, I drop to the ground, eyes closed tightly as I prepare to face the impact. 

I’ve never been a religious person, but the only thoughts flying around my brain are prayers of protecting my family. Prayers of Dustin’s safety as he faces whatever is coming for him. Prayers that my passing is swift and painless. Prayers that this is all over quickly.

And yet, nothing comes. 

Warily, I open my eyes, removing my hands from my cautiously, only to see none other than Steve Harrington, reeling from the impact of smashing his car straight into the one headed my way. His eyes find mine and my heart stops, the look of sheer relief on his face is indescribable. 

Rising to my feet, Steve’s hurriedly climbing out of the vehicle and by my side in a second. Face bloodied and bruised, despite that, he’s solely focused on me, scanning over me intently, worriedly taking in all the minor wounds I obtained from shattering the rifle cabinet.

“What happened to your hand?” He’s asking breathlessly, my mind preoccupied with the knowledge that he just put himself in harm's way to save my life. 

I can’t find the words to say anything as I take in the sight of his swollen eye and the stains of dried blood coating the lower half of his face. My mouth opens to speak and no words seem to slip out, mesmerized by Steve’s beauty in spite of his unsightly injuries.

Blaming the adrenaline, I find myself throwing my arms around the boy’s neck, pulling him into me and squeezing tightly. His hands settle on my hips, touch firm, fearing that if he were to let go that I would simply disappear. Absentmindedly, my fingers delicately thread through the strands of dark hair at the nape of his neck. Needing to be close to him.

“You just saved my life.”

My voice is no louder than a whisper, breath hot against his neck as I nuzzle myself closer to him. Feeling safe and secure in his embrace. Desperately needing the comfort right now, even if it is coming from the most unexpected of places.

“Uh guys! We should be getting out of here! Like now!” I hear Robin shout, releasing myself from Steve’s hold to see that not only has Jonathan managed to get their car started but also that Billy Hargrove is now stumbling out of his vehicle and has his sights set on us once again.

Neither of us need to say a word, abandoning my truck in the Starcourt parking lot and speeding away from the mall and ultimately the danger that lies in wait there. 

***

The Battle of Starcourt resulted in the mall burning to the ground. Dustin and I reunited later that night at Steve’s house, the pair of them, alongside Robin, explained everything to me over a much needed pot of tea. El’s powers, demogorgons, Russian soldiers and the Mind Flayer. It was certainly a lot to take in and I could only apologize to my brother for not being there for him throughout all of this taking place. Wishing I could have helped him from the start.

It’s been a struggle adjusting to my daily life for the past couple of days. Dustin’s been staying at the Byers’ household, wanting the comfort of his friends and with a lack of parental presence in our home, the place feels cold. I can understand his decision completely, yet I can’t help but feel alone in such a big house.

I spend my nights awake, unable to sleep, and when I do manage to drift off, I’m plagued by nightmares of that car barreling towards me. My days aren’t any better. Alone with my thoughts at the roller rink, dreaming up all of the ways that the events of the night could have gone differently, most resulting in the deaths of either Dustin and I. And if I’m not at work, I lounge around my home, hopelessly trying to occupy my mind from the swirling images of Starcourt. 

Steve and I haven't spoke since that night, more so my fault than his. I’d closed myself off again, become a recluse and struggled to leave the house with the exception of work. I believed that my mind had been playing tricks on me that night when I found myself enamored by his beauty. Or that it was simply the adrenaline and the intensity of the circumstances that I needed his embrace. However, the more I think about it, the more I believe that it was a decision of the heart rather than caused by the stress of the night.

Standing outside the Harrington household, I wonder if I am making a huge mistake. I hadn’t intended to come here, only leaving my house to take a brisk walk and yet here I find myself, fist raised in preparation to knock. Though making no effort to do so. In all honesty, I think I just need to talk to somebody about what transpired and Steve is the only person that I can willingly open up to.

“Y/N?” The boy’s voice startles me, he’s standing in the doorway dressed in plaid pajama pants and a loose black sweater. The wounds on his face are still prominent, though evidently more healed than the last time I had seen him.

“I’m sorry, I was going for a walk but I guess I just instinctively came here. My house is too quiet and I just really need to talk to somebody.” I confess, staring down at my bandaged hand so as to not make eye contact with Steve.

“You walked here?” He’s shocked by my admission, not that I’m surprised. Living on the other side of town, the walk to his house is easily an hour long, if not more.

“Well my truck kind of went down with the mall.” I laugh softly, though it sounds more forced than I intended. 

“You should’ve called, I would’ve picked you up.” He tells me, voice gentle as he opens the door for me to enter his home, following me through to the lounge where we collapse onto the couch.

He has a small fire crackling away, the orange embers lighting up the room and subsequently offering a toastiness in comparison to the chilly night air.

“What’s going on? Are you?” There’s a tenderness to his voice, speaking to me the way you would speak to a timid animal so as not to frighten them. It’s sweet.

“Do you get nightmares from that night?” I ask shyly, not wanting him to view me as weak for struggling with the things that occurred.

Steve sighs, settling further into the couch as he takes his time figuring out how to say what he wants to get across. Part of him wanting to lie and pretend that everything is fine, the other part of him knowing that he should just be honest and recognize his feelings.

“Yeah.” Steve settles on the one word reply, deciding it may be the better option rather than confessing the truth as to what occurs in these nightmares.

“I haven’t been sleeping much, everytime I do, all I see is that car. Or Dustin’s lifeless body and it’s horrible. Waking up alone, hyperventilating, nobody there to tell me it’ll be okay. I don’t know how I can keep going like this.” I admit, daring to look at the boy and noticing the pained expression on his face.

“Can I be honest?” He whispers, words so quiet I almost don’t hear them. Nodding nervously, his eyes fall to his lap as he speaks. “Everytime I shut my eyes, I can only think about what would’ve happened had I not got to you in time.”

“But you did-”

“You would’ve died, you would’ve died and it would’ve been my fault because I was the one who asked you to come.” He’s crying as he talks, recounting that night and what could have been.

“Steve, you did save me. You’re the entire reason that I’m sitting here right here now. You’re a hero Steve Harrington.” I tell him, shuffling closer and taking his hands in mine. To which he brushes his fingers over my bandaged knuckles. “A very stupid, idiotic, reckless hero. But a hero nonetheless.”

“I would’ve never forgiven myself if I’d let you die. Fuck, I can’t even forgive myself for the way I treated you in school.” He states, gazing over my face and taking in the handful of miniscule cuts scattered across my cheeks from the shattering of the cabinet.

“Would it help if I told you that I forgive you?” I ask, soft smile settled upon my lips.

“Are you sure? I know I hurt you and I don’t want you to feel like you have to forgive me because of what happened and-”

“Steve, I forgive you.” I cut him off, squeezing his hands as I do so. “Not just because of what happened. I mean I’d probably be a shitty person if I didn’t forgive you when you deliberately put your own life at risk to save mine but, you’re a good person. I can see that now. You’re a really good person with a really good heart and in all honesty I think-”

My heart jumps to my throat as I realize what I’m about to confess. Questioning how I even got myself into this mess. If you told sixteen year old me that only two years later I would be sitting on the couch of my nemesis about to own up to the feelings that I may or may not have for him, she would’ve laughed in your face.

“Can I kiss you?” Steve asks softly, before I am able to finish what I’m saying, thankful that I no longer have to find the words.

“I’d really like that.”

The boy’s hand is gentle as he cups my cheek, apprehensively bringing his face to my own and brushing his lips lightly over mine. He’s cautious at first, testing out the waters to ensure that I am truly comfortable. Though, when I push myself closer, fisting his sweater in my hands, he exerts the passion that he had been holding black. Lips moving in sync with mine and bringing his free hand to caress my waist delicately. As the heat grows and any nerves wash away, he effortlessly slides his tongue into my mouth. Shy whimper escaping my mouth as he does so.

When he pulls away, I don’t miss the string of saliva that connects our lips to one another and can’t help but smile. Heart fluttering as Steve’s eyes focus on me adoringly.

“I guess all the rumors were right.” I tease as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, tilting his head slightly at my words. “You really are good at that, King Steve.”

“Oh ha ha.” He replies sarcastically, pulling me into his side and allowing me to rest my head on his chest. Listening intently to the steady beat of his heart.

“Can I stay here tonight? I can’t face another night alone.” I ask, tracing circles across his stomach, his hands stroking my hair lightly.

“I’d like that.”

Whilst I lay in the arms of Steve Harrington, I couldn’t help but feel as though things were starting to look up for me. Sure, it didn’t happen in the way that I was expecting or perhaps wanted. I certainly could have done without the monsters but right now, I finally felt at peace. Even if it was only for a little bit.

[bookshelf-dust]

healing

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 5,445

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

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

————

November 1985

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey. Glad your test is over?”

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

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

“You have work today?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Besides what?” 

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

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

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

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

“You know what.”

“I want you to go.”

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

————

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

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

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

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

You and Billy. 

You and Billy Hargrove.

Sharing a room. 

Sharing a bed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”

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

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

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

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

“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”

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

Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”

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

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

“Really?”

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

“Yeah, baby.”

Baby. 

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

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

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

“Mhm. Thought so.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

————

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

“Right hand blue.”

“You’re kidding right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Something funny over there?” Steve questions. 

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

His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”

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

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

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

————

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

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

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

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

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

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

“C’mere then.”

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

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

“Billy.”

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

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

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

“Yeah.” 

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

“Yes.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”

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

It’s just me. 

“Do they hurt at all?”

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Billy.”

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

“Goodnight, baby.”

————

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sleep okay?” she asks. 

“Mhm. You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my god.”

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

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

“Or lack thereof,” Robin says. 

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

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

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

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

————

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

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

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

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

“Whatcha doin’?” 

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

“That sounds nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

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

“Okay.” 

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

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

“I understand, Billy.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You motherfucker!” 

You get him back, and he’s laughing. 

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

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

“Billy!”

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

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

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

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

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” you respond.

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

“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”

“Damn right you are.”

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

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

“So much for that,” Billy says.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

————

“I’m regretting this, Billy.”

“Stop whining.”

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

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off, please.”

“Make me.” 

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

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

And you’d do it again. 

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No. Shut up and take it.”

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

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

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

He’s never had this before.

Hell, you’ve never had this before. 

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

You’re healing him. You. 

————

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

[love-hs28]

Thank you, this is all I needed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, you okay?”

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

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

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

“Stevie, what’s wrong,”

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

“Ohh, baby. It’s okay,” 

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

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

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

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

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you. This is all I needed.”

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

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

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

xoxo

[stevie-petey]

episode nine: the piggyback

“It’s always been you,” Steve whispers, lips pressed above your brow. “The six kids. The family I’ve always wanted. Traveling the countryside. My dream, it’s always had you in it.” You laugh, breathless and in love. “I know, honey.” Sickly sweet warmth cascades through you. Your lips find Steve’s, you kiss the smile off his face. He lets you. “I’ve always known it was going to be the two of us.”

Summary: operation save hawkins is a go. youre eagle one, steve is currently doing that, eddie is youd be lying if you said you havent thought about it, nancy is it happened once in a dream, robin is if you had to pick a girl, and dustin is eagle two. what could possibly go wrong ? spoiler alert: everything. literally everything goes wrong. might as well break a few promises while youre at it. for the plot. but at least its over, right? .... right?

Rating: general, some swearing, violence

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, cursing, weapons, blood, death and gore, injuries, lowkey suicidal thoughts

Words: 8.5k (we broke tradition where the last chapter is the longest but tbh this is probs for the best)

Before you swing in: oh my god this is the end. i am. very very emotional rn. this story is my baby and i dont know what im going to do now that its done. i cant even write an in between chapter because we still dont have season 5 content :((( im gonna miss writing this story, and i will absolutely go crazy waiting for season 5 so i can write again. these next few months will be ROUGH but !!!! thank you guys so so so much for reading. all your comments/reblogs/kudos/likes have meant the world to me. im truly the luckiest girl ever :') for now, and for the final time... enjoy !

–

It’s pitch black outside. All around you is darkness. The sun is long gone, its golden warmth no longer present, retreating into the treeline as if afraid of what the night will bring. 

You’re afraid, too.

Everyone stands around Nancy. The group is quiet as you await whatever she has to say. When she turns to face you, her voice is leveled, calm, but her hands shake. 

She’s afraid, too.

“Okay,” Nancy exhales deeply. “I wanna run through it one more time.” She looks at Robin, prompting her to recite everything back. “Phase one?”

“We meet Erica at the playground.” Robin responds. “She’ll signal Max and Lucas when we’re ready.”

“Phase two.”

You step forward. “Max and I will bait Vecna. When he goes after one of us, he’ll go into his trance. If he chooses Max, we’ll go onto phase three together.”

“And…” Nancy swallows, looking away. “And if he chooses you?”

It’s Steve who steps forward this time. He stands tall, brave, but his voice shakes. “Then I’ll stay with her, walkman ready, while you and Robin go on your own.”

You grab his hand, squeezing it. He squeezes back. 

“Speaking of phase three.” Dustin clears his throat, weary eyes never leaving you. “Me and Eddie wil draw the bats away.”

“Carefully,” you look pointedly at your brother. “Right?”

He rolls his eyes at you while Nancy continues speaking. “Okay, phase four.”

“We head into Vecna’s newly bat-free lair and…” Robin holds up a molotov cocktail. The liquid sloshes around. The scent of gasoline still stings your nose from when you helped her pour it into the bottles earlier. “Flambe.” 

“Nobody moves onto the next phase until we’ve all copied. Nobody deviates from the plan, no matter what.” Nancy reiterates, looking around the RV. Her eyes linger on you, cautious, almost doubtful. She trusts you. She knows she trusts you. But she also knows your heart and the lengths you’ll go to save others. 

Nancy has always admired your selflessness, but she’s also always seen it as your greatest strength and weakness. A coin, two sides. Now, tonight, she has to hope that you’ll follow the plan. Even if it means leaving Max behind if she’s the one Vecna chooses.

Your eyes harden when you realize what Nancy is thinking. Without saying anything, you nod at her. The jut of your chin tells her that you’ll be fine. That she needs to trust you. 

Eddie’s trailer is only a few yards away, but the walk to it feels like decades. Steve guides and Nancy is close behind him. You stay back, walking beside Dustin. Your shoulders brush. His presence grounds you, reassures you that you will make it through the night. 

Dustin, sensing your fear, reaches for your hand. He extends his warmth to you, silently promising you that he will always be here. There isn’t anything left to say.

Steve opens Eddie’s door, turning the lights on and tossing his backpack to the ground. He eyes the rope that connects the trailer to the Upside Down, getting ready for the part of the plan that you honestly really hate.

“Be careful, please.” You urge him, uncomfortable that he has to be the first one to return to the hell that is the Upside Down. It makes sense, he’s the only one able to climb the rope up, but still. You’ve had shit luck these last few days.

“I’m always careful, angel.” Steve winks at you, rolling his sleeves up. “Here goes nothing.”

He climbs up quickly, years of being an athlete being put to use. Everyone watches anxiously. However, when Steve crosses through the gate and lands with a cheesy flip, you and Robin share a disgusted look. 

“What, does he want us to applaud?” She scoffs.

You shake your head. “Somethings I think he has an imaginary audience in his head.”

“Do you think they ever boo him?” “Not like we do.”

Nancy covers her mouth, muffling her laugh, and Robin snorts. You smile at the two of them, momentarily forgetting what’s to come.

“Alright,” Steve shouts up, tossing down Eddie’s old mattress. “Let’s go.”

You take a deep breath, steadying your nerves. Wiping your hands on your jeans, you place them on the rope and prepare for the inevitable torture that this will be. You’re pretty sure you’re bleeding again. 

“A little help?” You ask the others, motioning towards your injured leg and shoulder. “Sorta out of commission.”

Eddie grips your waist while Robin and Nancy gently hike your legs up. Together the three of them are able to carry you almost all the way up. Breathing through your nose, you grit your teeth and climb the rest of the way, wincing every few seconds. The pain is unbearable.

You really hope you don’t sound as pathetic as you look.

When you land on the mattress, small, black dots litter your vision. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Steve is already bending down, helping you up with ease. “And ruin Munson’s tidy home?”

Woozy from pain, you bat Steve away and wait for the others to join. Nancy comes next, then Robin, then Eddie and Dustin. Weapons get tossed down. Bodies land on the mattress with finalizing thuds. 

Outside, it’s just as cold as you remember it. Eddie and Dustin stay in front of the trailer. This is as far as they’re going. They aren’t leaving.

Roughly you pull at your brother. His body lands against yours, but the kiss your press to his forehead is gentle. You haven’t done this since he was a kid. Dustin flings his arms around you, nearly knocking all the air from your lungs. He squeezes you tight, as terrified as you are, and you feel tears in your eyes.

“We’ll come home,” your whisper is hoarse, rough and desperate. You bury your face in his mess of curls and kiss his head again. “The house won’t be empty.”

Dustin sniffles, too weak to hide his tears. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Your throat burns. How can you possibly leave him? 

Vision blurry with tears, Eddie manages to catch your attention as you cling onto your brother. The teen nods, lifting his pinky in the air to wave it at you, reminding you of his promise to you. He’ll protect Dustin. He swore it.

Reluctantly, you pull away from Dustin and wipe your face. “Please don’t die. Who knows what Mews’ ghost would do to you?” Dustin laughs wetly, wiping his own face as well. The thought of your childhood cat haunting his grave is enough to lessen the sting of letting you go. 

“If things here start to go south, I mean, at all, you abort.” Steve breaks the remorseful silence. He doesn’t want anyone getting hurt. He doesn’t want you losing anyone else. “Draw the attention of the bats, keep ‘em busy for a minute or two. We’ll take care of Vecna. Don’t try to be a hero or anything.”

His tone is harsh, but you know Steve means well. You also don’t want Dustin and Eddie anywhere near danger. As long as they stick to the plan, they’ll be fine. They have the quickest escape route and the most amount of protection.

“What Steve is trying to say is that you two better climb back through the gate the moment anything bad happens.” You look at the two boys. They stare at you, grim faced. “I mean it, okay? Go through the gate, don’t try anything else.”

“We’re the decoys, we get it.” Dustin rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry. You and Steve can be the heroes.”

“Look at us,” Eddie nudges your brother’s shoulder. “We’re not heroes.”

Your stomach twists. You hate how Dustin views his and Eddie’s position. They aren��t just decoys, they’re heroes in your eyes. They’re facing an army of bats all on their own, but you don’t dare say this out loud, afraid to encourage them. 

“Just…” your mouth is dry. “Just be safe, alright?”

“We will.” Eddie swallows. Then he pauses, his gaze darkens slightly. Looking back at you, he breathes out, “And make him pay.”

You and Steve look at each other. So much of Eddie’s life has been ruined by Vecna. Even if you all make it out of here alive, killing Vecna, there’s no guarantee that Hawkins will accept him back into the town. You understand the anger that resides within Eddie. The desire to kill the very thing that has destroyed everything he loves. 

You bite your lip. You’ve never made a promise you haven’t been able to keep. But this time you’re facing something bigger than anything you could’ve ever imagined. All this time you’ve tried convincing yourself that you’ll win. That everything will work out.

But you remember last summer. 

The mall. The fire and the deaths. Hopper. Billy. The power Vecna seems to hold, his claws that have sunk into you and Max. His threat to Nancy. The danger that Hawkins is in, up above where your mother sleeps peacefully. Unaware of what you’re sacrificing for her.

This is more than anything you’ve ever dealt with before. But a promise built on an unsteady foundation is all you can give Eddie. 

“Well will,” you echo his earlier promise.

Eddie smiles at you. The one you’ve grown to like, even find charming. Slanted and mischievous. The glint in his eyes never dimmed, even after everything. Through it all, he remained kind.

This is how you’ll always remember him.

– 

The further you walk away from Eddie and Dustin, the harder you have to force yourself to keep going. Your body is heavy, the weight slowing you down, pleading with you to go back. None of this feels right.

Steve’s hand on the small of your back is the only thing keeping your heart from collapsing. Robin’s smile helps, too. 

“You’d think this place gets less creepy the second time around.” She says, stepping over a root. “But I’m still pretty damn creeped out.”

“It isn’t the most pleasant place.” You agree. 

Robin steps over another root, looking back at you as she does so. “At least I’m here to protect you, Y/N. Pretty brave, don’t you think?” “Hey,” Steve warns. “Watch it.”

You knock your shoulder against his and smile apologetically at Robin. “Like always, I think you’re the bravest.”

She smiles proudly, throwing her fist in the air in excitement. However, after stepping over a root for what feels like the tenth time, her heart starts to pound. Looking around, all the trees suddenly look the same. Have you been here before?

“Not to alarm anyone, but I swear we’ve seen this tree before.”

“That’s impossible.” Nancy dimisses.

You agree. “We’re in the woods. All we’re going to see are trees.”

Robin tries to calm herself down, but ultimately fails. There are so many components to the plan, so many ways it can go wrong. “I mean, that would suck, right? Veca destroys the world because we got lost in the woods.”

“We aren’t lost–” You try to reason with her, but Robin is already running away in a panic. You scream at her, terrified of losing her. “Robin!”

“I’ll be back!”

You start to stumble after her. “Why does everyone want to separate?” You huff out, nearly tripping. “There’s safety in numbers! Come back!”

Nancy, seeing your fear for your friend and horrible coordination skills, steps in front of you. “I’ll go after her. You stay here with Steve.”

And then she’s gone, disappearing into the mass of branches alongside Robin. 

“They’ll be fine,” Steve reassures you, grabbing your hand. “They’re tough, even if Robin may lose her mind sometimes when she’s distressed.”

“I think we’re all slowly losing our minds.” You laugh, bitter.

Steve tightens his hand around yours. The two of you walk in silence for a while. The thunder above you serves as a reminder of where you are. The darkness is a threat. But you’re here, together. That’s all that Steve cares about in the end.

“Did you really mean what you said? Back at the cemetery?” He asks, clearing his throat in unease. The question has been on his mind ever since he heard your pleas for Vecna to take you instead of Max. 

He thinks of how adamant you’ve been to protect her. How you’re only here with him right now because Max wouldn’t let you blindly walk towards your death. 

The question strikes deep guilt within you, yet an exhaustion follows. You’re ashamed of how desperately you pleaded to die. Steve and Dustin had to hear you beg for your death. Lucas, too. 

You’re ashamed. Yet you wouldn’t take it back.

“I did.” You finally say. “I wanted him to take me.”

Steve already knew you’d say this. He’d been expecting anger to follow, to be furious with you for sacrificing yourself knowing he’d be left to pick up the pieces. 

But seeing the way you set your jaw and stare ahead, seeing the resolve that masks your face, the acceptance of your decisions, Steve can’t bring himself to be angry. Not at you. 

This is who you are.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” Steve promises you again. He will always promise this to you. Over and over again, he will die saying these words to you. “I-I can’t lose you. I refuse to lose you.”

Your eyes remain downcast. 

“I know that this is how you love,” he grabs your jacket, begging you to look at him. “I know that I can’t let you lose the ones you love. Dustin, Max, Robin, Lucas, or El or Mike or Nancy. Hell, even Jonathan. I won’t let you lose them, but I won’t lose you, either.”

He understands, then. The selflessness within you and its selfish ways. Yet he doesn’t shy away or hiss at its venom. Steve opens his hands and allows the selfishness to stay there, warming it with his skin. 

You kiss him. Surprising both him and you, yet you melt together. Steve circles his arms around your waist, pulls you flush against him, and in the cynicism that surrounds you, there is still love. 

“Thank you,” you breathe against his lips. He’s wonderful. He loves you wholly, without any faults. Your kindness and its destructive ways; he accepts it all. “Thank you for understanding.”

And this, you believe, is the most selfless act a person can do. Steve’s understanding of why you need to do this, to sacrifice your life for Max’s, even if it means he risks losing you. 

“I should be the one thanking you,” Steve kisses you again, softer this time. Slower. 

You pull back, confused. “Why?” He pulls you in again. “I mean, I don’t know if you know this, but I was a pretty huge asshole back then.” You laugh softly, and Steve knows he’s exactly where he’s meant to be. “You saw this good in me that I didn’t know existed. Right off the bat you saw through me, expecting more from me than anyone else ever did. I wouldn’t be who I am now without you. ”

“Steve…”

“And I’m sorry for thinking you didn’t see a future with me.” He continues, unable to stop now. This is everything he’s wanted to tell you ever since you allowed him into your life. “I know it’s stupid now, apologizing for our fight a week ago after the hell we’ve been through since then, but…”

He can’t believe he almost let something as small as a misalignment of where you’ll be a year from now jeopardize what you have. There is a string that attaches Steve to you, it brought you to him and tied your heart to his. 

“I meant what I said, Y/N.” Steve’s forehead presses against yours. “I’d wait forever if it means I can have forever with you.”

His eyes shine down at you, brown and warm. The honey you fell in love with when he pretended not to know your name, all to get you to laugh. 

“When your head went under the water, that night at Lover’s Lake, I thought you were dead.” Your voice shakes, remembering the fear that choked you. “For those thirty seconds, I thought you were dead, and it almost killed me.”

It was then that you realized how truly you can’t lose Steve. You’ve always known this, but to have his soul ripped from yours so suddenly, so permanently, there are no words to express the agony that poisoned you. 

Losing him would be the one thing you’d never recover from.  

“I don’t ever want to live through those thirty seconds again,” you’re crying. Steve is, too. He wipes a tear that falls, strokes your cheek, and you can’t bear the thought of a world without his touch. “I want forever with you, too. We’ll figure it out, but I’m not losing you. You have to be in my life, in whatever capacity. Whether you’re in a small, cramped apartment with me in New York or in Hawkins, waiting for me to come home.”

Your breath hitches. To think that a childish argument almost separated him from you. 

“As long as we come home to one another, it doesn’t matter.” 

Steve is quiet after you’ve said all this, and for a moment you’re scared you’ve said too much. Revealed too much of yourself, convinced him he’s gotten it all wrong, but then he cradles your face. His hands are soft, tender, the weight of them familiar against your skin. 

He kisses your forehead, and you exhale the last of your uncertainty. All that is left within your lungs is love. 

“It’s always been you,” Steve whispers, lips pressed above your brow. “The six kids. The family I’ve always wanted. Traveling the countryside. My dream, it’s always had you in it.”

You laugh, breathless and in love. “I know, honey.” Sickly sweet warmth cascades through you. Your lips find Steve’s, you kiss the smile off his face. He lets you. “I’ve always known it was going to be the two of us.”

Steve smiles, wide and bashful, and you know that this is where you’re meant to be, too.

“Hey, guys!” Robin breaks through the treeline, running back with Nancy right behind her. “Awesome news!”

“We aren’t lost.” Nancy cuts to the chase. “We think the Creel house is up ahead.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” You step out of Steve’s arms, though your hand remains intertwined with his. “Let’s go face imminent doom.”

Nancy huffs out a laugh and Robin winces, though Steve squeezes your hand and is the first one to start walking. Together, the five of you descend deeper into the woods.

Unsurprisingly, the Creel house is even more terrifying in the Upside Down. Bats surround it, their screeches stinging your ears. Lightning flashes a deep, blood red and the thunder that follows causes your heart to drop.

You stand at the crest of the hill. There’s a light below you, its glow pure in the abandoned park where it resides. The same park that you told Erica to hide in as she waited for Max and Lucas to take their place. The light flashes.

It’s time for phase two.

– 

“Max is moving into phase two: distracting Vecna. Y/N, get ready.” Erica’s voice carries into the Upside Down.

Nancy, Robin, and Steve all turn to you. Grief and longing taint their faces. Your walkman hangs from Steve’s hand. He grips it tightly. Tension coats the air, nearly suffocating you; you can’t run anymore. 

No one says anything as you carefully lower yourself to the ground. It’s cold beneath you. Hard, unforgiving. You cross your legs, ignoring the deep ache of your wounds as you do so. You close your eyes. The storm is coming. 

“Take the bait, you son of a bitch.” You hear Nancy whisper. 

You or Max.

Take me, you silently beg. Take. Me. 

Silence settles over the group. Everyone waits with bated breath. No one knows who Vecna will choose. 

Steve stands nervously behind you, his hand on your walkman at all times. 

Just take me. Kill me instead of her. If you’ve watched me for so long, then just get it over with. Don’t make this easy, don’t be such a fucking coward.

The words echo in your head. Taunting Vecna, hoping their malice will be what saves Max. That he’ll choose you in the end, give you what you want. You’ll do whatever, say whatever you need, if it means Max will come home. 

Something pricks your skin. An uncomfortable, electric sensation coats your entire body. 

Vecna. 

For a moment you think he’s listened. You can feel his presence, the weight of him shadows in your mind. He’s here, he’s spared you mercy after prolonged cruelty. He’s chosen you and Max will survive. Her blue eyes will remain bright, her body alive.

Then it all comes crashing down.

“He chose Max. I repeat, he chose Max.” Erica says, voice cutting through the delusions you allowed yourself to get lost in.

Your ears are ringing. Somewhere in your body there is still oxygen that has not escaped you, but you cannot find it. He chose her. 

Robin radios Dustin and Eddie, you think she’s instructing them to move onto phase three, but her words are jumbled in your mind and you can’t hear anything besides the screaming in your head. 

He chose her.

“Y/N,” someone roughly grabs your shoulder. “Y/N, look at me.”

Nancy. She’s in front of you, kneeled down. She grabs your arms, her grip vicious. Her mouth moves. She’s saying something, the way her chest heaves makes you think she’s yelling.

Is she yelling at you?

“Y/N!” The ringing doesn’t subside, but you manage to look at Nancy. “We need to go!”

She’s right. You need to leave. There isn’t time to remember how to breathe. You know this. Somewhere in the distance there’s music. Guitar rifts through the wind, Eddie’s melody enrages the bats that swarm the Creel house. They���re gone in seconds, flying towards the sound, and you need to stick to the plan. 

Your head moves shakily, managing a small nod, and Nancy yanks you up with Steve’s help. She looks at Robin, and suddenly her and Steve grab your arms and force you to walk alongside Nancy. They aren’t aggressive as they do so, nor are they cruel. But you can’t afford to shut down. Not now.

Max won’t survive if you do. There’s no time to hesitate. No turning back.

You hope she finds the light.

Lightning flashes all around you, illuminating the Creel house as you stand before it. Steve opens the door first. The vines that cover the ground writhe at the disturbance. He shines his flashlight, his heart drops when he realizes just how infested the house is.

“Shit,” he breathes out. The floor is virtually impossible to walk across. “That’s not good.”

Then, because he has no other option, Steve starts jumping to any safe spot he can land on. He looks ridiculous as he does so, but for once you aren’t focused on that. Instead, you stare down at your injured leg and wince.

“Great,” your thigh is currently more blood than flesh. Jumping on it is quite literally the last thing you should be doing. “This is gonna hurt.”

“At least you have good balance?” Robin offers, though she doesn’t believe what she’s saying either. 

Nancy grabs your hand, then Robin’s. She looks at the two of you and smiles, trying her best to look reassuring. “It’s okay. You guys got this.”

The first jump hurts, setting the remaining nerves in your upper thigh on fire, but you can’t afford to scream or collapse. You have to remind yourself that the vines are interconnected. One wrong step, one miscalculated fall, and they’ll wrap viciously around you. 

It’s a slow, tedious process trying to get to the attic. The stairs are the hardest part. The vines twist with every step, slithering across the walls. Steve does his best to help you, offering you his hand for support, but you both hold your breath every time your foot slips. 

When you make it to the attic door, everyone readies their weapons. In one hand are your knives, in the other a molotov cocktail. Steve spins you around, digging into the backpack for an ax while Nancy grabs her gun. 

Your foot lifts, about to step forward, before the ground beneath you shakes violently. The entire house trembles, and Steve barely has enough time to catch everyone as all of you struggle not to fall. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You sneer, holding desperately onto Steve. This is all some sick, cruel joke. A poorly timed rupture in your rapture.

But then the house stills. Everything is quiet. You, Nancy, Steve, and Robin stare at one another, panting. Nobody moves. There’s a clarity in the air, a false sense of security. 

That’s when the first vine latches onto Robin. 

It folds around her ankle before tearing her away from you. She screams, so do you, and her body is thrown against the wall as more vines encase her limbs. They move fast, snake like, and everything unravels after that. 

“Steve! Y/N!” She screeches, terrified. “Nancy!” 

You’re at her side in a second, stabbing at the vines. Your knuckles are white as you grip your knives, your biceps strain. You aren’t letting them take Robin from you. “Hold on!”

Your teeth grit together in exertion, sawing as fast as you can. Steve and Nancy are on the other side, throwing their axes as hard furiously into the vines. But nothing works, they’re too thick, and you don’t realize that one of the vines has wrapped around your arm until it’s too late.

“Y/N!” Steve screams when your body gets lifted into the air. You try to fight it, to pry your arm away, but your legs give out and soon a second vine wraps around your other arm. Then a third, a fourth and a fifth. 

In seconds you’re pressed against the wall. 

“Steve!” Screams are ripped from your throat, you try to call out, to beg for your life, but the more you move, the tighter the vines constrict.

Steve calls after you, ramming into the wall as he tries to cut you loose. “I got you! I–”

The ax he’s holding gets yanked back by a vine. He’s launched into the air, body landing harshly next to yours several feet up the wall. He screams again, but his voice dies when a vine cuts off his breathing and chokes him.

Another vine coils around your throat and suddenly you can’t breathe. Your airway constricts. Sobbing, you try to reach out to Steve. You’re inches apart, his fingers are so close to yours that you can feel their warmth, but you can’t reach him

All you want to do is hold him. 

Nancy falls to the ground, the last victim. She gets thrown to the opposite wall, it all happens so fast that she doesn’t even have time to scream. 

Your vision blurs. You close your eyes.

This is how you’ll die. 

Far away from your home. No one will find your body down here. Dustin will come looking for you and he’ll face the same fate. He will die trying to find you. Vecna will destroy everything you’ve ever loved.

Your lungs burn, fighting for breath that they cannot get. Blood rushes to your head. You take your last breath. The sound of it echoes in your ears. 

Everything goes black. 

Your mother will be worried about you. 

I’m sorry.

– 

There’s a body beneath yours. 

It groans, gasping for air, but your vision is dark and you can’t see anything. Pain erupts in your wrist. You try to move it, but the sting makes you nauseous. 

There’s coughing all around you, but you’re too weak to suck the air back in. Everyone cowers for breath. The vines rescind, unwrapping themselves from your skin. There’s a body beneath you, and a gentle hand cups your cheek, you know it’s Steve.

“Breathe, angel.” His voice cracks, wounded. It hurts to speak, but he needs you to breathe. “Y/N, you have to breathe.”

Everything is numb. Your lungs are empty; you can’t remember how to fill them. Steve coaxes your lips open, blows air in your face, does whatever he can think of to get you to breathe, before finally, miraculously, you inhale sharply and begin coughing. 

“Are you alright?” Steve asks you softly, rubbing your back as you cough. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

Your throat is raw. It takes everything within you to speak, but you want to. You need to. There’s only one thing you want to say. “We have to make him pay.”

The anger is back, and Steve’s jaw sets. Vecna has hurt you. He’s hurt everyone you love. He’s chosen Max for his final death and your fury threatens to devour the sanity you have left. You’re tired of his shitty mind games.

It’s like what you promised Eddie: you have to make Vecna pay for what he’s done to you all.

“I don’t believe in a higher power,” Robin rasps, breaking you from your thoughts. “Or divine intervention. But that was a miracle.”

Nancy cocks her gun, already walking towards the attic door. “Then we better not waste it.”

“Phase four.” Steve says, steadying himself against you. 

“Flambe.” Robin finishes. 

You flick your knives out. “Let’s finish this.”

– 

Vecna’s body hangs in the attic, thick, gruesome vines attach him to every crevice. He’s unmoving, eyes closed, and seeing his body up close makes you want to gag. He’s a terrible, vile creature. 

But Dustin had been right: Vecna is in the same trance-like state that El goes into when she uses her powers. 

Without being told to, Robin sets down her bag. All the molotov cocktails are inside. Everyone grabs one, silent. Almost as if you’re all too afraid to break the spell he’s under. You only get one shot at this. 

Steve has the lighter. You hold the first cocktail up, and he looks at you, eyes shining. He asks you if you’re ready, if this is what you really want, and you nod. At your signal, Steve throws the cocktail into the air.

The bottle shatters against Vecna’s body. The flames engulf him, the impact of the blast so powerful that it knocks you and everyone else back. There’s an awful scream as Vecna’s vines begin to snap from the sudden heat.

Your screams mix with his, throwing another cocktail with every ounce of strength you have left in you. You’re bruised and bloodied and exhausted, but you think of Max. You think of Billy and Hopper. Eddie and how his life will never be the same again. You think of Chrissy, Patrick and Fred. All the innocent lives that have been lost for a cause that you despise. 

This is for them. For Hawkins. For your home.

The last of the vines die withering away, and Vecna’s body falls to the ground. He stands, body on fire, and stalks towards you. His eyes are only on you. 

Robin lights the final cocktail and the force of it sends Vecna stumbling back. It’s enough to break through his chest, and he’s weak. Weaker than you’ve ever seen him. 

“Shoot him, Nancy!” You cry, ready for this all to end. 

And she does.

The first blast pierces Vecna’s skin. The second, third, and fourth diminish him to ruined pieces. With every shot, Nancy steps forward, drawing him out, and you’re right behind her. Vecna releases a deep, furious roar. The sound of it sinks into your bones, but you no longer fear him. 

He isn’t worth your fear. 

Nancy raises her gun again. She deals the final blow, sending Vecna through the old, rotted wood of the house into the dark night. He falls, screaming, before everything is quiet. 

The roar of the fire that surrounds you is the only sound. You all stand in the attic, numb. None of it feels real. All that’s left of Vecna is a hole in the house, his body far below, sprawled on the concrete outside. 

“Did we…?” You’re afraid to jinx it, to somehow bring him back. But this has to be it. There isn’t any other way for this to end.

Nancy doesn’t say anything. Instead, she turns around, running back down the stairs. No one has to ask why she does this; you all know. There has to be a body. There must be tangible proof that you’ve won.

Everyone runs outside.

Vecna’s body is gone. 

The only indication that he’d been there is an outline of flames that molt the grass below it. But there is no body.

“No,” you run down the steps, kicking through the grass as you look around. You’re frantic, sprawling on the ground as if you’ll find him buried beneath the ash. “No, where is he?”

You killed him. He was on fire. Nancy put more than five bullets in him. He fell from the attic, a height that alone should’ve killed him. Where the fuck is he? You did everything right. Followed every step of the goddamn plan.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” Something is wrong, you just don’t know what. Steve and the others join you. They’re quiet, fearing what you’re refusing to even consider. Four deaths. That had been all Vecna needed. But you killed him. “None of this makes sense, unless… Unless he–”

No. 

A bell chimes. 

The sound sends you to the ground. Your knees give out, collapsing under the weight of it all. “No!” Your scream is loud, guttural. Tearing from your chest as it tears out your vocal chords. There’s blood in your mouth and you want it to choke you. 

It’s Max. 

He got her. He killed her. 

All of a sudden there are arms around you. Someone carries you back up the stairs, back into the house that has taken everything from you. Steve holds you to his chest as he, Nancy, and Robin stare at the grandfather clock before them. 

It’s alive.

“Four chimes,” Nancy’s voice can barely be heard above your crying. “Max…”

The realization settles upon all of you. You’re in hysterics, no one can calm you down. You’re crying so hard that you can’t breathe, but you don’t want to breathe anymore. 

Grief pours from you in cruel, bitter waves. All you do is cry, barely even registering the earthquake that follows your devastating loss. 

Steve has to set down your crying figure in order to stabilize Robin and Nancy. You curl into yourself on the ground, making yourself as small as possible. There is too much. It’s all too much. Your head digs into the floor beneath you, cutting you, and your tears mix with the blood. 

Over and over again the clock chimes. Like laughter. His laughter. 

He won. 

Steve holds onto the stairs as the earthquake worsens. He has to crawl over to you; you’re rocking back and forth on the ground, your cries heard even above the cracking of the earth. His hand wraps around your weeping body and he won’t let you go. Steve tries to shield you from fallen debris, the world is falling apart, but you don’t move.

You don’t care anymore. 

It’s always your fault in the end. You lose everyone eventually; you get them killed. You can never save them. You will never be able to save them.

She’s gone. 

Max is gone. 

– 

The days pass. You’ll come to remember them in fragments. 

Returning to Eddie’s trailer and finding Dustin crying over his dead body. Prying him away, your tears mixing with your brother’s when you have to tell him that something has happened to Max.

Finding Hawkins in flames. Seeing the deep gashes in the town you grew up in. Stumbling to the Creel house, racing side by side with the ambulances for everyone within the once quiet town, and collapsing again when you find no one there. 

Going home. Your mother’s arms breaking you. 

Steve. How he never left your side throughout it all. Holding Dustin’s hand, unable to stop crying. 

Visiting Max in the hospital the day after. The stench of sterilizer and surgical tools. Seeing her lifeless body still alive. The countless other bodies in the building that died due to your failure. 

When the news broadcasters announce Hawkins to be cursed. The burden that you can’t tell them that they’re right. The guilt seeing your baby brother’s limp. Another scar he will carry with him forever. 

All the hurt in the town. The pain. 

The collapse of your home; they’re calling it an earthquake. 

It all comes to you in flashes. 

Hawkins high school gets converted into a donation center for everyone dishoused. Visiting it is your idea. You can’t bear the thought of spending any more time inside your home knowing there are hundreds of others who no longer have a place to call home. 

“Anything else?” You place your old comics into one of the boxes you’re donating. 

Dustin shakes his head. “That’s the last of it.”

He hasn’t left your side in days. He still keeps your walkman on him, though neither of you know if it’s important anymore. Dustin is afraid that you’ll never put the headphones on again, even if it could save your life. 

You tape the boxes up, carefully writing down their contents on one of the flaps. Your fingers are scabbed. Your wrist is stiff, locking up if you move it too suddenly. 

Books.

Bedding. 

Clothing.

Anything you can offer, you’d give it all to Hawkins if you could.

Steve picks you up. He helps you put the boxes in the back of his car, gentle with you as always. “You guys ready?”

You nod weakly, and Steve kisses your forehead, careful of the cuts that litter it. He helps you into the car. Turns on your favorite songs. Tries to distract you from the wreckage that encases Hawkins as he drives; you keep your head down. You can’t look at any of it. 

Nancy is waiting in her driveway with Robin, a pile of their own boxes at their feet. They greet you kindly, warmly, with an air of fear that you’ll break, and you’re too tired to pretend. 

“I found some more of your old stuff in the attic,” Mrs. Wheeler walks out of the garage, smiling despite the circumstances. “I think it’s lovely you’re doing this, Y/N.”

“We all just want to help,” you politely respond, staying near Steve’s side. 

Nancy picks up one of the stuffed animals in the box and pouts, seeing her old favorite toy. You’re about to tease her, try to laugh, when a pizza delivery van speeds down the block. 

“Someone order a pizza?” Mrs. Wheeler asks.

“Not that I recall.” You mumble, confused as your eyes follow the car. Every business in Hawkins is shut down right now. It doesn’t make sense for there to be a pizza delivery.

It parks in front of the Wheeler’s, and when you see who steps out, you drop the box you’re holding and run towards them. 

Will and El throw themselves around you, hugging you tightly. Dustin joins, and holding them again, having them here with you, makes everything okay for a moment. Your kids are okay, they’re safe. 

“Are you okay?” El asks you, pulling away slightly. Her eyebrows knit in concern when she notices the cuts on your face and how red your eyes are. “Did he get you?”

Somehow you aren’t surprised that she knows about Vecna. 

“I’m okay, sweetie.” Her hair is buzzed. Already you miss the long strands she once had. You don’t know what she’s been through this last week, but you hope, more than anything, that she hasn’t lost her kindness. “I-I’m okay.”

Your voice catches at the end, and immediately El understands that something else happened.

“We were worried about you,” Will doesn’t let you go. “When El told us what was happening, Jonathan almost lost his mind.”

Jonathan.

Hearing his name makes you remember everything. Instinctively your eyes find him. They always do. Jonathan has Nancy in his arms, but when he senses your eyes on him, he looks up at you. He will always be able to find you. Your heart stops, looking into his once familiar brown eyes.

Jonathan rushes towards you, as he always does, and his arms around you feel like home. 

“Bug,” he breathes against your neck, holding onto you tighter than he ever has before.

You melt when the nickname drips from Jonathan’s lips. It’s been so long since someone has called you that. It’s been even longer since you’ve held Jonathan like this. 

“God, what happened to you?” His eyes roam your body, catching on your bandaged shoulder and thigh. The cuts on your cheek. You try to ease his concern, grabbing his hands, but Jonathan starts to ramble. “We-we tried to get back to Hawkins as soon as we could. The second El told me you were in danger I–”

He inhales shakily, presses his face deeper into your neck. “All I could do to stay sane was think of your voice. Of our last phone call.”

You bury your face into Jonathan’s messy hair. You’re crying, but for what, you don’t know. His scent is bittersweet. His arms are reminiscent of what was once. You’ve missed him, but nothing will ever be the same again.

“I need to see her.” El’s raised voice causes you to let go of Jonathan. She’s standing in front of Dustin, arms crossed, and you know he’s told her the truth. “Take me to Max.”

“What’s wrong with Max?” Mike slings an arm over your shoulders, putting all his body weight against you in greeting. “Miss me, Henderson?”

You move his arm down, forcing him into a hug. You want to remember these next few seconds. The remnants of his childhood before it comes crashing down on him. “I did, Wheeler.”

Mike hugs you back, but when he sees the distress on El’s face, he lets you go and walks towards her. “What? What’s going on?”

Dustin is the one who breaks the news. Shamefully, you know it should’ve been you, but you haven’t been able to say Max’s name in days. There’s too much guilt, remorse, resentment that it hadn’t been you. 

It’s a mess of tears and panic when Dustin tells them. Will covers his mouth, holding back tears, while El storms inside the pizza delivery van as Mike demands that Jonathan take him and everyone else to see Max. They don’t believe any of it. El told them that she saved Max. 

“Are you coming, Y/N?” Jonathan holds his keys up. Everyone else, including Nancy, are already inside. A boy your age, you think his name is Argyle, waves at you from the passenger seat. 

So much has changed. Unable to form the right words, you shake your head at Jonathan. Yet even after months apart, he understands your unspoken words. You can’t see Max again. Not yet. It’s too soon, too much for you to bear.

Seeing her limp body once was enough. 

“We’ll be back,” Jonathan hugs you one last time, pressing a kiss to your hairline as he lets you go. “I promise.”

Steve steps forward then, wrapping an arm around your waist as he stands next to you. The two teens lock eyes, Steve gives Jonathan a cool, steely look. He remembers what you’ve told him. He remembers Jonathan’s words to you before everything collapsed. 

Sensing his anger, you squeeze Steve’s arm. Not here, you beg him. Not now.

Exhaling slowly, Steve offers you his hand. You take it, allowing him to walk you back to his car as the others leave.

– 

The donation center is packed. There are so many people inside, sitting on makeshift cots and pinning missing posters of their loved ones to a bulletin board. Nurses tend to the injured. Mothers cradle their children. The sight makes you ache. All these people, displaced by what they believe to be an earthquake.

You set the boxes down at the main dropoff table, and though the kind employee praises you for how organized the boxes are, you can’t help feeling that you should be doing more. 

In the hundreds of injured and grieving people you’ve seen, you’ve only noticed a handful of workers. 

“Is there any way we can help?” You ask the woman, looking around with a frown.

“Truly anything.” Robin says. “We just… we want to help.”

The woman seems surprised, and you wonder how rare it is for kindness to still be in a town that has known nothing but turmoil these last few years. 

You and Steve get placed sorting clothing while Robin is assigned to the food station. Dustin passes out cups of water for everyone. It isn’t much, but the work is meaningful and it eases the tension in your chest. 

“So…” Steve folds a t-shirt. “Can I ask about Jonathan yet?”

Picking up tattered jeans, you place them in the trash pile. “Might as well.”

“How do we feel about his sudden arrival? I mean, the giant pizza statue on the van was a little dramatic for me.”

He’s trying to keep the conversation light, which you appreciate him for, but you also know that Steve is doing this because he’s worried about you. And, you know, he’s unnerved seeing Jonathan. There’s still a lot left unsaid between you. 

“It’s… a lot.” You admit, struggling to find the right words to convey how you feel. “I’m relieved he’s okay, and I really am happy to see him again, but I… I understand, you know. If you’re upset.”

Steve scrunches his face. “I’m not upset, just… I don’t know. Annoyed with the guy.”

“So you’re upset.”

“Okay, no–”

“Is that Vickie with Robin?” You unintentionally cut Steve off, too surprised by the fact that mere feet away from you is Robin and Vickie making sandwiches together. And they’re laughing. “Are they talking together?”

Steve whips his head around, disbelieving, but lets out a low whistle when he sees Robin making easy conversation with Vickie. “Well I’ll be damned. Who knew our girl had it in her?”

The Jonathan talk lays forgotten as you and Steve admire your friend. You share a secret smile, remembering your own first awkward, bantering conversations together. There is so much pain in this town, and yet you watch as love still blossoms within it.

Across the room, you see Dustin talking to an older man. They’re deep in discussion and you notice your brother’s shaking shoulders. He’s crying. The older man is, too. You narrow your eyes, unsure if you should approach, but when Dustin hands the man Eddie’s old guitar pick, you realize who it is. 

“I’ll be back.” You kiss Steve’s cheek, excusing yourself. 

He tries to ask where you’re going, but you’re already gone. Your brother needs you right now.

Walking over, you stand to the side and allow Dustin and Eddie’s uncle some privacy. While there are so many things you want to say to the man, like how kind his nephew had been, how brilliant his mind was and how you’ll never forget the smile that never left his face, this is for Dustin and Dustin only. 

Eddie was his dearest friend. There is no greater loss than that.

Whatever Mr. Munson tells Dustin will be good for him; it will be the closure you can’t give him yourself. 

An arm wraps around you. You lean into the touch, knowing who it is without even having to look. You rest your head on Steve’s shoulder, exhausted, but content with the warmth he offers you. The two of you keep an eye on Dustin, ready to catch him in case he falls. 

Eventually Mr. Munson leaves, and you take his place next to Dustin. The second you sit down, the boy cries into your shoulder. Tears soak your shirt and your brother’s frail body shakes. “I-I had to tell him that Eddie died a hero.”

“I know,” your head falls against his.

“They’ll never know what he did for this town.” Sobs wrack Dustin’s body. “It isn’t-it isn’t fair.”

You rub his back, brush his hair out of his face. “None of it is fair, Dust.”

He cries even harder and you try to shield him from the world with your body. You try to block out the grief, the bitterness that follows death. How empty it can leave you. An emptiness that can swallow a person whole. 

You won’t let it happen to Dustin. 

“We’re gonna get through this together, alright? You and me, just like it’s always been. I promise–” Your words catch in your throat, tears forming in your own eyes. There’s so much you want to promise your brother, to swear that will come true, but you’re just as hurt and lost as he is. 

“I promise,” you make the words come out. “That everything will be okay. We’ll-we’ll be together, heal and do whatever we can to make everything okay. I-I’ll never leave you, you hear me? I won’t leave you again.”

Though Dustin still cries, his breathing slows. 

“Together. We’ll face this together.” As you talk, you notice a crowd of people swarming by the windows. They’re looking at something, staring and gasping. Your voice grows weak, anxious that something bad is about to happen. “It’ll… it’ll all work out.”

Dustin notices the crowd, too. He looks to you for answers, but you’re silent. You don’t know what’s happening. There’s a murmur in the crowd, hushed, urgent. It sets your skin on edge. Even more people get up now, some are even running outside, and every nerve in your body is screaming at you to run. 

Suddenly the room darkens, as if a giant cloud has covered the sky. Your stomach twists, and you get up, following after the crowd. Bodies shove each other, people blindly walk through the haze of whispers and uncertainty. 

When you step outside, all you see is ash.

The ash falls like snowflakes, beautiful and pure. There’s a softness to it, something delicate in the ruin it leaves. Dustin knocks against you, staring up into the sky with the same dread that you feel. The crowd is murmuring with glee, whispering excitedly about what they believe to be snow; but they’re wrong.

You’ve always won in the end. 

You’ve come to believe this to be a fact. You once told Steve that you believed you used up all your luck. Saving Will, closing the gate over and over again. The penance was the deaths from this summer for the greedy way you abused luck.

Steve had reminded you that there was still good leftover in the bad. That there will always be softness in the destruction, a reason for hope. That you will always find a way out, that luck and love were two sides of the same coin.

You’ve always won in the end. 

Yet, lost in the swarm of people, you watch as the sky begins to fall and Hawkins descends into the Upside Down. 

You no longer believe it.

[END OF SEASON FOUR]

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)

[munsonson]

𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏『••✎••』

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4

This shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. 

Things could’ve ended far worse than they actually did. Hell, most of the couples in their school tended to make breakups as dramatic as possible, normally painting one half of the relationship as some kind if irredeemable monster, if not to paint them as this sympathetic martyr, than just to save face that it actually hurt. 

In her case, Eddie Munson told her they just weren’t a good match and he wanted to be friends again instead. That was as healthy as they could possibly get. And in the best case scenario, too, she’d still be able to have him be a part of her life. She didn’t think she could stand the thought of seeing him in the halls and not being able to acknowledge him. 

She’d fallen hard and fast for Eddie, embarrassingly so. 

Given the heavy duty of designated driver for the little hooligans she’d somehow decided to adopt with Steve Harrington, she’d gotten accustomed to waiting in the high school parking lot, her nose pressed into the creases of her current novel while she waited for them to finish their important campaigns, all procured from the brilliant mind of Eddie Munson. 

She’d known him before then, too, but only in passing. He’d often make a big spectacle of himself in the cafeteria just to bug the other students, and he held the record as super senior. But she’d never even talked to him until she saw him walk the boys out after a seemingly successful campaign, his arms wrapped tightly around Dustin and Lucas’ shoulders as he praised them.

He’d acknowledged her when he got to her car. 

“My fair maiden,” he’d said, “I apologize for the delay.”

She’d blubbered out some kind of half-hearted response, good enough to make him laugh, and that made her heart go a million miles a minute. 

It didn’t take long before she’d gotten the courage to ask him out, even if it was just for coffee. He was surprised, but he agreed. 

It had been nice, he even drove her home after. She probably should’ve seen the signs then because he didn’t suggest a second meet up, she had instead. And he’d agreed.

It was about a month before they made themselves official, in Hawkins High language, practically married. But it really just meant she got to hold his hand between classes and get quick kisses goodbye when it was time to separate, somehow always on her cheek than her lips. 

She’d thought their dates were fun; it was a lot of pressure since he always left it up to her, never having any other idea than lounging about her home and just watching TV. But she was the one who thought of renting movies for horror marathons, figuring it was up his alley. She thought of bowling and drive-in theaters and picnicking near the quarry for its desolate atmosphere, another thing she figured was right up his alley. 

But things came to an underwhelming end when Eddie approached her at her locker on some random Thursday to tell her things just weren’t working out and he wanted to stay as friends. Despite how much even that had hurt, she agreed. She didn’t want to make him do anything he regretted. 

She could still be friends with him, happily so. That meant she could still sit with him at lunch, hear his outlandish tales, and be able to admire him from afar, even if she was no longer able to touch him and hold his hand. 

“Be honest,” she’d heard Gareth say as she approached with her tray, “what really happened? You know, most guys woulda killed to be able to take her out, the fact she stuck around for months is surprising enough.”

Eddie shrugs, chewing absentmindedly on a pretzel he’d brought. She would pack him lunches when they were together since he always forgot and resorted to eating prepackaged things instead. Since they broke up, it seemed like old habits really did die hard. 

“To tell you the truth,” he starts rather dramatically, “no substance. Pretty face, nice voice, real sweet, but God, boring as all hell.” He runs a hand down his face. The other boys seemed surprised. Dustin and Mike share a look, but say nothing, clearly waiting to hear more. Because there was no way it could be just that. There had to be more. They knew her better than anyone, had been through so much with her. What could be the real reason Eddie broke things off?

“And?” Dustin coaxes.

“And what?”

“Dude, seriously?” Mike scoffs. “She wasn’t interesting enough for you?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Look, she’s a great gal. And I know you guys are super close, which is awesome, but we just weren’t the best match. And I felt like shit that she was putting in all of the effort when I wasn’t interested. Now she’s free to...I dunno...find someone boring, too.” He sniggers, elbowing Jeff beside him trying to get him to laugh, too, but he could see how upset Dustin and Mike were. 

Luckily, for her sake, they didn’t notice her standing there, having overheard everything. Spinning right back around, she’d ditched her tray onto one of the trash bins before leaving the cafeteria completely before there was a chance anyone could see her tears. 

God, it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, she thinks again. He was more than welcome to have his own opinion, but why did it have to be something like that? 

He was right, she wasn’t exactly Chrissy Cunningham or Heather Holloway, being this huge spectacle that made every new day more exciting than the last. All things considered, sometimes too much excitement frightened her. Having risked her life at least once a year for nearly four years now made her yearn for the more simple things. It was stupid of her to think Eddie would want the same. Eddie Munson, who liked to make scenes in the cafeteria and rock out in a bar with his band. He didn’t crave the simplicity of life like she did.

She didn’t go back into that cafeteria for the remaining of the lunch period. In fact, she’d decided to skip the rest of the day completely, knowing she shared three periods with Eddie and right now she really didn’t want to see him. She just wanted to get away, leave herself to her own thoughts to try to calm down. 

Well, that really only lasted for ten minutes because she found herself pulling into the small parking lot into Family Video. She spots Steve’s car at the far end and knows he’s inside. It was childish of her to go running and crying to Steve Harrington, who she knew would take her side and say all the cruel things about Eddie that she couldn’t bring herself to because she really just needed someone on her side right now. Aside from Dustin and Mike, of course. She wouldn’t forget how they jumped to her defense. 

The little bell rings at the top of the door as she walks in, startling Steve into consciousness, who seemed to be snoozing on the edge of the counter, drool pooled across his forearm. He wipes feverishly at his face and blinks unfocused in her direction, trying to situate himself quickly into his customer service face.

“Welcome to Fam-Jesus, you scared me,” he cuts himself off when he at last realizes it’s her. Confused, he turns to glance at the clock hung up on the wall. “Don’t tell me school’s out already? You beat Robin here.”

“No, I’m playing hooky,” she shakes her head, unsteadily moving towards the counter. 

“What? You? I’m sorry, am I still dreaming?” Steve asks dramatically. “Since when do you, of all people, ever skip class? I’d sooner believe Nancy doing it than you.”

“Just...needed a break s’all,” she says with a shrug, looking around. “Keith not here?”

“Nah, he’s off today. Something about a new graphic novel he’s been dying to get. Says he’d have to wait overnight just to get one of the first editions. I don’t know, I don’t really listen to him unless he’s handing over my check,” Steve said. She leans up against the counter, trying to act casual. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t things be okay?”

“Well, for one, having to clarify that things are supposed to be okay when asked if everything’s okay is a pretty big indicator that things aren’t, in fact, okay.” Steve says with a laugh. “So everything’s not okay, then?”

“Everything’s okay,” she lies. “I just...can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

She isn’t sure how to come out and say it without sounding stupid. Better, she can’t figure out a way to come out and say it without sounding completely pathetic. But this was Steve, he was the king of asking her embarrassing things. He even called her once at three in the morning to ask how long you were supposed to leave cookies in the oven for. The follow up question was how to get the burnt smell out before his mom came home. 

“Am I boring?”

Steve tilts his head. “Huh?”

“Am I boring, Steve? Am I boring?”

“No? Who gave you that idea?” Steve snorts, like he thinks it was a foolish thing to ask. “Whoever it is clearly hasn’t seen you handle a crowbar.” He was referencing when she’d nabbed a crowbar from the junkyard lot to fend off the demodogs with him, all to protect the little ones in the bus. She doesn’t want to remember that right now, not when it makes her feel cold inside. 

“Nobody, I just...I dunno, I just think that maybe I’m not as exciting as, like...you o-or Rob or Nancy or, hell, even Jonathan.” 

“Nonsense, you’re a badass! True story, you know I wouldn’t say that about just any...” Steve trails off, finally really looking at her. “Hey...hey, why are you really askin’ me that? Something happen? Someone say something to you?”

“No, Steve, I was just asking.”

“You’re lying,” he accuses. “Who was it, was it Byers? Nancy? Not Robin...”

“No! No, Steve, they didn’t say anything, please just drop it. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Steve’s face eventually relaxes, having realized he knew exactly who she was talking about.

“Munson.”

She shakes her head. “Stop it, Steve.”

“What did he say? I thought he just wanted to be friends, where’s all this coming from?” he asked. There were too many questions being thrown at her. She doesn’t want to cry, especially not in front of him, but as soon as she feels her cheek dampen that was it. Soon she was burying her face in her hands and trying to stop the little whimpers from coming out.

She doesn’t notice Steve leap easily over the counter. He pulls her close, shushing her quietly. 

“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he says. She sniffles, wrapping her arms around him. He’s petting her hair, kissing the crown of her head, trying his damndest to get her to calm down and talk to him. He was the perfect person to come to, she now realizes. Her subconscious knew Steve was the answer.

When she finally stopped crying, he at last let her go, giving her some space.

She rubs the tears from her eyes and wipes the tears on her jeans.

“Want me to kill him?” he asks jokingly. She laughs. He smiles again. “What happened? Can you tell me now?”

She told him what Eddie had said, the real reason he’d broken up with her and how she ran from the cafeteria and came here. Steve was reasonably upset, but he didn’t want to make it all about pounding Eddie into a pulp, he knew she needed her friend right now and he was prepared to be just that.

“Hey, screw him,” Steve scoffs, throwing an arm over her shoulders and pulling her back into his chest. “You’re far from boring, believe me, and honestly if you ask me you could do so much better than Eddie Munson. The guy picks his nose. I saw him once. It was gnarly.”

She’s laughing again, playfully hitting him. 

“Thank you, Steve,” she says, “I’m sorry to dump all this on you, I just needed someone to talk to, you know?” 

“Well, you came to the right guy. I can’t tell you it gets much better from public humiliation, but I can tell you that you find much better shit to focus on. Like this obviously stellar job. Robin. My new stereo I saved up for. And...well, you.” He playfully flicks her nose. She wrinkles her nose and swats his hand away. “Eddie doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. But I know he’s gonna kick himself in the ass when he realizes he lost a girl like you.”

“Yeah, you’re just saying that ‘cause you’re my friend.” 

“Not true, I also wanna bug you for your famous cookies.” Steve winks.

“I can bring them to you tonight, then.” she said, patting his arm. “I should get going. Um...you clearly are very busy and I don’t wanna keep you from doing your job.”

“I know, such a bad influence. The gateway rebellion was skipping class. Now it’s job defiance,” Steve chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, um...if you want, when you come by tonight, maybe you could stick around? Was gonna rifle through the back, borrow some flicks to waste my evening away. Free to join me if you want? Robin flaked out on me, says she’s doing some band practice with Vicky. Didn’t ask for details.”

She thinks about it and smiles. “Sounds like fun. Girls’ night.”

“Invitation rescinded!” Steve shouts, turning away. 

“No, I’m kidding, I’m kidding, stop!” she protests, giggling. “I’ll bring cookies and pizza, Steve. I’ll be there.”

“Alright, then,” Steve said. “Um...hey, don’t worry about Eddie, alright? He’s just being a dick. And honestly, apart from his relationship with the rugrats, he’s still gonna be a dick. He missed out on a girl like you. Clearly he’s a martian.”

“Doesn’t mean much when I’m from Hawkins. But thank you, Steve. I’ll see you tonight,” she says, squeezing his hand and finally leaving the store back to her car. She left feeling much lighter than she had going in. He was right. Forget Eddie. If he thought she was so boring he clearly didn’t need her around him. She had other friends, friends like Steve.

Smiling to herself, she climbs into the driver’s seat and turns the key into the ignition, hearing the engine roar to life.

Things would be just fine. 

[smoshyourheadin]

Was wondering if you’d be willing to write something about how Steve has a picture of his girl in his wallet or a modern au where it’s his lockscreen <3

my everything

pairing: steve harrington x f! reader

a/n: this is SO cute i love it!!!

the summer sun was setting over hawkins, casting long shadows across the familiar streets. you and steve had just finished a much-needed ice cream date at scoops ahoy, now free from its previous russian spy drama, and were walking hand in hand through the park. the evening was warm and the air filled with the sounds of kids playing and birds chirping. it was a rare moment of peace in the chaos that seemed to have enveloped your lives lately.

as you both settled on a bench by the lake, steve reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet. "i almost forgot," he said, a boyish grin spreading across his face. "i promised robin I'd pay her back for covering my shift last week."

you watched as he fumbled through the various receipts and bills, the leather of his wallet worn and familiar. a small photograph slipped out, fluttering to the ground at your feet. you bent down to pick it up, curiosity piqued. when you turned it over, your breath caught in your throat.

it was a picture of you. taken at the snowball dance when you and steve were chaperoning, your smile bright and eyes shining. you remembered that night vividly - how you’d both mothered all the kids, and how steve had held you close, the world around you fading into a blur as you danced together.

"you keep a picture of me in your wallet?" you asked softly, looking up at him with a mix of surprise and tenderness.

steve glanced down, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. he ran a hand through his hair nervously. "uh, yeah," he admitted, his voice a bit shy. "i guess i never told you."

your heart swelled with affection. "why didn’t you?"

steve shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "i don't know. it just felt... i don't know, kinda cheesy? but i wanted to have a piece of you with me, all the time. reminds me of what's important, especially when things get crazy."

you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the sweetness of his gesture. "steve, that's... that's the most romantic thing anyone's ever done for me."

he looked at you, eyes filled with warmth and love. "well, you mean everything to me," he said simply. "i just wanted to make sure i never forgot that, even for a second."

you reached out, cupping his face in your hands, your thumbs gently tracing his cheekbones. "i love you so much stevie," you whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly. the kiss was tender, a promise of all the love and commitment you shared.

when you pulled back, you slipped the photo back into his wallet, right where it belonged. "thank you for always thinking of me," you said, your voice filled with emotion.

steve smiled, his hand finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "always," he replied. "you're my girl."

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in a soft, golden glow, you rested your head on steve's shoulder, feeling his arm wrap around you. the worries of the world seemed distant in that moment, and all that mattered was the love you shared.