#steve harrington x tommy h

[psychotic-nonsense]

In October of 1967, Steve Harrington is born in Hawkins, Indiana.

He's raised there, forced to live under the strict expectations of his parents, Richard and Samantha. Barely escapes their clutches, freedom fueled by the kids and adults that take the role of guardian and family when the time is right. Keeps himself in check with the always impending apocalypses that arise beneath his feet.

In June of 1985 - when Steve Harrington is 18, while Richard and Samantha Harrington are visiting New York for an extended work trip - Veronica Harrington is born.

She was carried and raised in secret from their hometown. They take care of her between their business hours, dropping her in the hands of nannies and babysitters galore. They don't even think of Indiana during Veronica's early childhood, too focused on work and making sure their daughter starts up right.

In October of 1986 - when Steve Harrington is 19, aged further by ending the Vecna War, yet tamed by his newfound love in Eddie Munson - Richard and Samantha Harrington return to Hawkins.

They don't ask about what happened to their son. They don't ask about the town. They don't ask questions, just give responses to them. Sneering at Steve's friends, complaining about the state of the house, commenting at the disfunctional chaos their home has become.

In November of 1986, Richard and Samantha Harrington disown Steve.

They just let him go. They at least give him a folder of his legal documents, but otherwise just tell him to get out of their house and never use their name again. Claiming Steve doesn't need anything from the room because the Harrington's own everything in it. They don't call him son, they don't say goodbye, they don't acknowledge who's actually taken care of the house, they don't admit most of Steve's former room has changed with money Steve earned himself, they don't dare to give him any money or care where he goes. They just say they're sick of dealing with an unworthy mistake of a child, and force him out of their house.

In November of 1986, the Party's adults adopt Steve.

He runs to them first after everything happens. Held himself together at the start, but broke down the second the words were out. While everyone was trying to comfort Steve, Wayne Munson and Jim Hopper were the first to succeed. They know firsthand that this family would never be the same as blood, no matter how much that blood has boiled and burned before, but the love will be stronger and it will be here. When everyone seconds it, Steve finally accepts it. He becomes a child of the Party - he's everyone's son and everyone's brother, taking whatever surname he sees fit.

In November of 1986, Steve Henderson and Eddie Munson leave Hawkins.

Despite all this good, Steve can't bear to stay in this damned town a second longer, where everyone knows who he is and will soon know everything he isn't. And it's not like Eddie was looking forward to sticking around Hawkins either, especially without his Steve. The kids are the first to agree, surprisingly, and the adults promise to find a way for the boys to get out. Later that week, when Richard and Samantha leave the house to prepare for Veronica, Steve and Eddie break in to take everything that's rightfully theirs. While they're there, not sure what prompts him, Steve makes a bag of his clothes with shoes and his wallet tucked within it, shoving it into his closet. Dustin's mom uses an old favor to get the boys an apartment in Chicago, the Party has one last farewell, and the two boys are gone.

From 1986 onward, Veronica Harrington is raised in Hawkins, Indiana.

Richard and Samantha are adamant in their daughter coming out exactly how she should. They steadily convince the town to forget the Harringtons ever had a son and lock the room on the second floor next to the stairs without ever touching the inside. They raise her with formality and pride at the top of their expectations, wanting at least one child to come out right.

But Veronica is the spitting image of Steve's honesty and care. She puts on a facade when needed, but even at a young age, she wants nothing more than to be someone's light in the darkness. She plays with every lonely kid at school, and tries to make people laugh at the business parties she's dragged to. It's not received well by her parents, but Veronica is much too strong willed and stubborn to let it phase her.

In April of 1991 - when she's 6 and they're so much stronger around their hearts - Veronica Harrington meets Steve and Eddie Munson for the first time.

It's the year Erica is set to graduate high school. Steve and Eddie have been making the drive for every holiday this year, ordered determined to give her the best senior year she could have. It's Easter Sunday, and Wayne somehow managed to drag his boys away to church - a Munson custom, as even Eddie insisted they go.

While at the snack table post sermon, a little girl comes up to Steve, mistaking him for her father. He and Eddie gently comfort the girl, introducing themselves and offering to help the girl find her parents. That's when Veronica introduces herself, striking Steve deep in his heart. Still, he keeps quiet, even gifting her a little origami crane made from napkins at the table. He calls her "chickpea" for the color of her dress, tells her to keep the crane secret and safe, "If ever you need to find your way back home, you hold that close, and it'll tell you."

Meanwhile, Wayne has come across Richard and Samantha in the crowd opposite the kids. Exchanging formalities, Wayne mentions his son and nephew are in town, news the Harrington's are surprised at, as Wayne didn't seem like the father type. However, trying to keep face, they remain civil and insist on introducing their daughter.

Cue Veronica running to her parents with Steve and Eddie in tow. Cue Steve calling Wayne dad right to Richard's face. Cue the Harrington's immediate leave from the church, Veronica waving behind her with a crane placed carefully in her pocket.

From then on, Veronica Harrington's life changes indefinitely.

Her parents' expectations grow tenfold. She finds out she's horribly allergic to chickpeas. All of her friends must be approved by her parents, and any that don't fit their image are ordered to leave her.

Veronica takes these changes in stride - is her class's top student, captain of the softball and volleyball teams in junior high, keeps the friends she wants in secret from her parents - but she can't help but keep the crane in a little box in her room. Gets a necklace with a little origami crane pendant, holds it whenever she needs to make a hard choice. Can't help but expand herself in secret, learn things her parents would never approve of - lock picking, other languages, sleight of hand, a clothing style that's nothing like the dark blues of her family, all warmth and light. She explores every room in her house, yet is unable to find her way into that room upstairs next to the steps.

In May of 1998, Veronica Harrington discovers the truth about her brother.

She's about to be a freshman. Her class was touring the high school in preparation, and while passing the athletics hall, her eyes hit the swimming trophies. Each row stuffed with trophies, and each one with a name that stabbed her right in the stomach: Steve Harrington.

After that, she couldn't bear all the secrecy anymore. Late that same night, she finally uses her lock picking skills to break into that room. And though it's devoid of life, it is a bedroom, so evidently lived in. It's frozen in time, twisted sheets covered in dust, old papers crinkled from being stepped on but not picked up, old clean clothes still sitting in the hamper. It's a boy's room, clearly, and Veronica is careful walking around this place of memories.

She does still explore, quietly clicking on lights around the room, too cautious to touch the overhead lights. She looks under the bed, finding a bat and a trash can lid, both embedded with rusty nails. A shirt that still smells like fresh laundry yet has a back stained permanently with long red lines down the shoulders. Dozens of stapled documents labeled NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT, detailing horrific events that each have that same name signed at the bottom.

With shaking hands she checks the closet, and finds it mostly empty. All except for a deep green graduation robe and cap, a cream Hawkins High letterman, and a duffel bag hidden in the back corner. The cap has a 1985 tassel, and the letterman has Harrington branded on the back with basketball and swimming patches galore. And the bag, when she checks it, looks like a survivalist pack someone would make in an apocalypse. At the top sits a wallet, and inside is an ID for a Steve Harrington, who has the same face as the one in her origami memories.

And Veronica is done. She wakes up the next morning and throws Steve's jacket on the kitchen table, startling both her parents mid sip of coffee. She finds herself in a screaming match with her father, demanding them to quit lying to her, begging to know who her brother is.

In a fit of rage, Richard tells her. Tells her everything Richard and Samantha never saw in Steve, about Veronica's secret birth, the disownment, Steve's disappearance from the Harrington house and Hawkins. She's reminded of that one Easter Sunday, and is told how Richard and Samantha faked Veronica's allergy to keep her mind from being tainted by whatever curse befell their bloodline before. Orders her to never say that name again.

In a fit of rage, Veronica bites back. Calls her parents cruel and overly expectant. Comes clean about her secret freedom. Says she'd rather be nothing than ever carry the burden of the Harrington name ever again.

She hides away in her room after the fight. Cries in her closet with her origami box cradled tightly to her chest, begging it to take her home because this place isn't anymore, maybe never was. Cries for the brother she never even got to meet, who went through so many horrible things yet still got put through this same punishment. Cries for the future she won't get to have, losing her hope for a new beginning that will now never be.

At the start of June, 1998, Veronica runs away.

She makes it through the rest of May in near silence. She writes notes for all of her friends at the end of the school year, and one for her parents to inevitably find. Finds 75 dollars in Steve's old wallet, stuffs the duffel bag the rest of the way with her belongings, and says goodbye to Hawkins.

She takes the first bus she can find out of town. Doesn't care that it's going to Chicago, doesn't really care where she's going now. She befriends an old homeless man riding the bus as well, becomes another interesting name in his "Book of Wanders (Pronounced as Wonders)." As Veronica's telling the story about unknowingly meeting her brother, she remembers the crane in her bag. She reaches in to retrieve the little box, then the crane, nearly crying seeing how disheveled and unfolded it is. Broken and doomed, just like her. But looking at it now after so long, she thinks she sees something written inside it. Despite it shattering her heart pieces, she carefully unfolds the little crane.

At its center, in old, bleeding blue text, reads, "Find the Swooping Bat if you've lost your way."

The old man laughs then, taking Veronica's hand and placing it onto her chest, over her heart. "It's fate," he whispers in the dark bus. "There's a place called that in Chicago."

Veronica uses her money to rent them both a hotel for the night, giving the old man a warm bath for the first time in weeks. She gifts him the clothes as well, saying it's, "an honorary thanks from my brother, for helping me get here." They bid each other farewell in the morning, the old man telling her to keep hold of fate.

She finds her way to the Swooping Bat easily, hand on her necklace guiding her way. It's a quaint little diner, popular enough to be comfortably warm when she walks in. A young lady in a wheelchair - Max, says her nametag, with pins saying things like, "Summer work blows" and "USC grad or bust!" resting on her collar - guides her to a booth next to the sunrise.

"Anything I can get you today?" Max asks when Veronica's seated.

Veronica's fully ready to order everything on the menu, what with how delicious this place smells, but then she remembers her funds. 5 bucks, if she's lucky. "Just a chocolate milk, for now. Biggest one you have, please." She somehow plays off Max's skeptical look, her eyes sweeping over Veronica's no doubt disheveled and no-food-in-36-hours appearance.

It somehow works out, and Max is wheeling away. Veronica allows herself a moment to collapse, stomach growling in pain and eyes burning with the realization she has no idea what she's going to do now. She just has this last bit of hope to hold onto, and without it, she'll be nothing but a husk.

She's not sure how long she sits there, staring at the sunrise and letting sound and AC whisk her mind away, but there's suddenly a little knock on her table. Her head snaps up, and there's Max again, setting down a giant glass of chocolate milk... alongside a loaded breakfast plate.

"It's on the house," Max rushes to explain, all fondness when Veronica scrambles to get her wallet. "Courtesy of the owner. And between you and me," she whispers with a wink, "just take the damn food, kid."

Veronica stumbles over herself for a moment, rendered near speechless, before she finally comes back. She begs Max to thank the owner profusely, before rushing to dig into the pancakes before her. She's halfway done dousing the stack in syrup by the time Max wheels away, when there's suddenly someone laughing.

"Of course," says a choked-up voice behind her. "Can't have any chickpeas starving in my booths."

Veronica nearly drops her fork. She turns so sharply she gets dizzy. Seven years can't change a person that much, surely, because though he's bigger in the torso and he has glasses on the bridge of his nose and his hair is cut so close, he still has the same softness in his voice and the same slouch in his stance and the same moles around his eyes and his smile is so bright despite the tears in his eyes, and though Veronica can barely see through tears herself, it's not like she needs them anyway to know it's-

"Steve!" she cries, scrambling out of the booth to meet her brother halfway. The relief of it all working out has the rest of her restraint collapsing, forcing harsh sobs out of her and into Steve's shoulder. The siblings hold each other in the middle of a restaurant, a voice in the background asking everyone to leave them be. Steve doesn't stop whispering, even as his chest heaves with broken gasps between tears, "You're save, Veronica, I got you, I got you, it's gonna be okay, you're safe here, it's okay, sis, it's okay..."

"That you, lil' chickpea?" whispers a different voice once they've calmed down. Veronica reluctantly pulls away and finds a man kneeling beside them, a hand on Steve's shoulder and similar tears in his eyes. His hair and tattoos remind her of the tamed wild from seven years ago, covered in black in the middle of church yet glowing brighter than the stained glass, the one that Steve looks at in past and present with a glowing love Veronica never saw between her parents.

"Yeah," she whispers, wiping her tears away before placing a hand atop her necklace. It catches Eddie and Steve's eyes and make them beam with pride and relief. "Yeah, it's... it's me...."

[samgelina-jolie]

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

The Graduation Lineup

Ship: Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader

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

Word Count: 5,899 words

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

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

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

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

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

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

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

You nodded. "Just impatient."

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

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

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

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

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

"STEVE HARRINGTON!"

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

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

"WILLIAM HARGROVE!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~❊~

You considered yourself fond of Steve Harrington.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you were far less fond of Billy Hargrove.

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

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

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

~❊~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But after that—"

"I want to go out."

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

~❊~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Have you told Barb yet?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked at him.

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

Steve scoffed. "Absolutely not."

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

"No," he insisted.

"Yes!"

"No way!"

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

"No!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, Stevie..."

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

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

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

You raised an eyebrow and waited for an explanation.

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

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

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

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

He blushed, but very slowly, he nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He whimpered. It was a beautiful sound.

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

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

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

Heaven. His kiss was like absolute heaven.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laughed. "Stevie..."

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

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

Steve beamed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~❊~

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

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

"STEVE EUGENE HARRINGTON!"

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

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

"WILLIAM DAVID HARGROVE!"

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

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

"Eugene?!"

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

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

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

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

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

~❊~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, yeah? What did I do?"

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

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

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

You stared at him, mouth dropped open.

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

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

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

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

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

"What?" Steve asked slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Still my sister, Steve!"

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

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Steve Harrington

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

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Writing Prompt: After season 2, Tommy gets a wake-up call, realizing that it really was him that made Steve leave. He was the asshole. He realized that when he got drunk with Carol at a party and accidentally let slip at a party about Steve’s bisexuality, a secret he once swore to protect. (He hadn't realized someone overheard.) It was the worst thing he had ever done. It got back to Steve’s parents, and his dad ended up kicking him out. Tommy tried to make up for it by trying to take him in, and in Steve’s anger, he turned him down, preferring to live out of his car. It was Lucas who found him sleeping in his car, which led to him getting adopted by the Sinclairs and then the Hendersons. He got not one but two homes. People at school hadn't taken the news too kindly, and so, the Hellfire Club takes him in. . .more specifically, Eddie takes him in.

[ghosttotheparty]

love me softly p12

part eleven

tw: implied emotional/mental abuse; panic attack; brief mention of hospitalisation

Eddie shoves the worksheets into his backpack more carelessly than he should, stepping to the side with a little smile to let a girl pass in the hallway. She looks him up and down, her eyes scraping over his ripped jeans and oversized shirt before she looks away, ignoring him. His smile turns into a grimace.

The worksheets are practically burning in his bag. One is all marked up with his messy handwriting in smudged pencil and Mrs Miller’s trademark red pen, the other blank and waiting for him to fill in the correct answers. Miller says if he doesn’t turn it in with a sixty percent or higher he’ll fail, a statement that’s stuck in his head like a broken record.

Gareth is still at the picnic table outside the main building when Eddie finds him again, opening his mouth to tell him about the sixty percent, but Gareth’s expression makes him stop. He looks up at Eddie, wide-eyed, frowning.

“What’s going on?” Eddie asks when he’s close enough.

“Uh, Steve came looking for you.”

Eddie’s stomach drops a little bit, and he freezes.

“Is something wrong?”

“He didn’t say,” Gareth says, setting his book down. “Just asked where you were and if you could meet him in the bathroom. He said you’d know which one.” He pauses, fiddling with the corner of a page. “He looked like he’d been crying.”

“Fuck, okay.” Eddie starts toward the entrance of the school. “You’re the best, love you.”

“Love you too,” Gareth says with an amused smile, but his eyes are still shining with concern.

Eddie runs to find the bathroom faster than he runs in gym class. It’s on the second floor, toward the back of the building. There’s only one classroom in that hallway that’s actually in use (home ec class), and every time Eddie steps into the dim hallway he thinks it looks abandoned. The bathroom is where he keeps a stash of cigarettes behind a loose tile.

Steve is leaning against a the wall across from the door when Eddie comes in, and Eddie’s heart aches even as Steve smiles at him.

His cheeks and nose are rosy, his eyes shining like they’re still tear-filled, and he looks so small it makes Eddie’s chest hurt.

“Hey,” Eddie says, shutting the door behind himself. “Got your message.”

Steve tilts his head, smiling softly.

“Gareth’s nice.”

“‘S my best friend,” Eddie says as he gets closer. “What’s wrong?” he asks quietly.

Steve looks at the floor, his smile falling. He shrugs weakly. Eddie wants to kiss him.

He takes off his bag, setting it next to Steve’s on the ground as he gazes at him.

They haven’t kissed in school since that day in the locker room, only at Steve’s house and in the van, even though Eddie wants to every time he sees him in the hallway, every time he finds a drawing in his locker.

“Stevie,” Eddie prompts, whispering.

Steve takes a breath, looking up at him, anguish in his eyes.

“My parents came home last night.”

Eddie blinks, his heart breaking a little bit.

“Are you okay?”

Steve shrugs again, his mouth twisting.

“Just feel like shit,” he says quietly. “Kinda just wanted a kiss.”

Eddie exhales, his eyes flicking back and forth between Steve’s for a moment before he reaches out and pulls at his shirt, tugging him into the closest stall before he turns to grab their backpacks.

Eddie pushes Steve against the wall before he locks the stall door.

“Hi,” he murmurs, getting close and touching Steve’s waist.

“Hi,” Steve says weakly, his eyes fluttering like he’s going to cry.

“C’mere,” Eddie says softly, reaching up to touch his face and leaning in. He kisses him slowly, sighing when Steve’s hands find his waist and hold him tightly. Eddie pushes his fingers until Steve’s hair and tugs gently, nibbling on his lip carefully. Eddie pulls away, opening his eyes to look at Steve. His eyes are still closed, his lips parted, almost blissful.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Eddie breathes, watching Steve’s cheeks flush before he leans in and kisses him again. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist, holding him tightly as his tongue slips across Eddie’s lip. Eddie can feel his hands shaking against him.

“You okay?” Eddie asks when they part, tugging Steve’s hair gently. Steve exhales, resting his forehead on Eddie’s.

“Better.”

“Yeah?”

Steve nods, pressing his hands into the small of Eddie’s back.

“You wanna talk about it?” Eddie asks quietly. Steve presses his lips together and lifts his head, looking back and forth between Eddie’s eyes.

“They’re so mean,” he says after taking a sharp breath. His lip trembles, and before Eddie can even say anything, there are tears welling in his eyes and falling down his cheeks, and Eddie’s whole body aches.

“Baby,” he breathes, pulling Steve into a tight hug. “I got you, come here.”

A deep sob wracks Steve’s body, and Eddie buries his face in his neck, whispering to him. He can feel Steve’s tears on his neck, sliding under his shirt, but he doesn’t care.

When Steve’s crying slows after a minute, Eddie pulls away and wipes away his tears, pressing kisses across his face.

“Don’t listen to them,” he whispers. “Okay? Nothing they say is true.”

Steve’s eyes open and look at him, so full of doubt that Eddie can feel his heart splitting in two.

“What are they saying ‘bout you, Stevie?” he asks, dreading the answer, but Steve just shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. His lip quivers again, a tear rolls down his cheek. Eddie wipes it away, his own eyes burning. “‘S okay, sweetheart.”

“Eddie,” Steve says softly. “Can I have a hug?”

Eddie wordlessly pulls him in close, pressing his lips to his neck, and Steve’s arms tighten around his waist as he takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“‘S okay,” Eddie says again. “I love you, baby.”

It takes a moment for him to realise that he’s said it, and his eyes fly open as he freezes. Steve doesn’t say anything, but Eddie can feel him freeze too.

There are a few silent moment as they just hold each other, and Eddie can feel his heart pounding in his chest until Steve lets out a quiet laugh, huffing into Eddie’s neck.

“Did you just tell me you love me for the first time in a school bathroom?”

“…No?”

Steve laughs again, one of his hands running up Eddie’s spine.

“Do you really?” he murmurs after another moment, his voice hesitant. Eddie closes his eyes again, nuzzling into his neck.

“Yeah. I do.”

Steve presses his face against Eddie, his fingers digging into his back like he’s trying to rip into his jacket. Eddie tightens his own arms around him.

Steve is crying again. Eddie runs a hand over the top of his head gently, combing through his hair. And he waits.

Until Steve is choking out a quiet but firm, “I love you too.”

“Oh,” Eddie says weakly. “Shit.”

They stay in the bathroom until the bell rings. Before Steve can open the door to leave, Eddie catches his shirt and pulls him close again.

“I meant it,” he says softly. “Nothing they say is true.”

Steve’s face softens and Eddie reaches up to hold his chin.

“I’m serious, Stevie,” he says gently. “I don’t know what they’re saying— and you don’t have to tell me, it’s okay,” he adds when Steve’s expression shifts. “But whatever they’re saying. It’s not true.”

Steve sighs, touching Eddie’s wrist and closing his eyes for a moment. Eddie brushes his thumb over Steve’s lips.

“And if you ever need me to remind you about how amazing you are, I will, gladly.”

Steve smiles and tugs at his wrist to press a kiss to his palm.

Gareth checks with Eddie that Steve’s okay when Eddie’s gets to class. Eddie’s heart swells.

He catches glimpses of Steve around school all day, in the hallways, in the cafeteria. He always looks sort of the same, forlorn and tired and small, and Eddie wants more than anything to pull him aside and hold him and kiss his neck until he falls asleep.

Eddie finds a drawing in his locker before he heads to his last class. It’s scribbly and messy, the pencil lines heavy and dark, and Eddie can tell just from gazing at it that it was a spur-of-the-moment, frantic drawing. Some of the lines are shaky like his hand was trembling when he did it.

Eddie puts it in his backpack more carefully than he’s ever done before, making sure not to fold or crease or bend it. He’ll put it on his wall when he gets home.

Somehow the last class is the most taxing. The teacher seems to target him the whole time, and has all year, always asking questions he knows Eddie doesn’t know the answers to and subtly making fun of him. It drives Eddie up the wall. He wants a cigarette.

So when the bell rings and he can escape, he heads up to the second floor, headed toward the abandoned bathroom for his cigarette stash.

He pauses in the doorway at the sound of a voice through the door, listening in confusion. It’s usually eerily silent around here, so quiet that any noise echoes and bounces off the tile.

It’s Tommy Hagen’s voice. Eddie blinks, furrowing his brows and listening intently, but his voice is muffled by the door, and Eddie can’t understand him. He pushes the door open quietly, looking inside to see Tommy on the floor, looking at someone that’s blocked by his two cronies. Eddie doesn’t know their names.

“Hey,” Eddie says sharply. Tommy looks up at him, but huffs.

“Fuck off, man, not right now.”

Eddie blinks, watching Tommy turn back away from him.

“What are you doing?” he asks, moving to look around the cronies, expecting to see some poor freshman on the ground, but he stops in his tracks, his stomach dripping when he sees Steve. “What…”

“I said fuck off,” Tommy says aggressively, but Eddie doesn’t move, staring.

Steve is curled into a ball against the wall he was leaning against this morning, his face hidden in his knees, and he has a hand in his own hair, gripping so tightly his knuckles are white. It’s only now that Eddie realises that Steve’s breaths are echoing in the room, too fast, too short and sharp.

Shit.

Tommy ignores Eddie, trying to pry Steve’s hand out of his hair.

“Come on, man,” he says. “Snap out of it, you’re— you’re fine.”

“You’re not doing it right,” Eddie says weakly, blinking his eyes when they burn because his boy is on the floor right now, having what looks like a panic attack, and he wants to kiss him better.

Tommy looks up at him.

“The fuck do you mean?” he says angrily. Eddie blinks again, swallowing.

“You’re— You’re hurting him, stop pulling his hand.”

“He’s hurting himself,” Tommy says. “I’m trying to stop him.”

“Yeah, I— I know, just— You gotta be gentle.”

“Fuck off, Munson—“

“I’m serious,” Eddie snaps. “You’re making it worse, cut it out.”

“Munson—”

“Let. Go.”

Tommy lets go of Steve’s wrist like he’s startled, and Eddie takes a breath, pausing before he drops his bag to the ground and pushes between the cronies, ignoring their protests. Tommy tries to stop him.

“Let me help,” Eddie says. “I’m not gonna— I’m not gonna try anything, I just—” He stares at Tommy desperately. “Let me help him.”

Tommy stares back.

“…Fine.”

“Tommy, seriously?” one of the boys asks behind Eddie.

“If he does anything, I’ll deal with it,” Tommy says firmly, turning to look up at him.

Eddie ignores them. He moves closer to Steve.

“Steve, it’s me,” he whispers softly, watching Steve’s shoulders rise and fall with every rapid breath. “Eddie,” he adds, knowing the others are listening. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Steve doesn’t answer, his hand still gripping his hair tightly.

“Give me a nod,” Eddie whispers, his chest hurting. “Or shake your head for me.”

Steve’s breaths are starting to blend with whimpers, as Eddie can tell that his throat is dry, that he’s crying. And then he nods weakly.

Eddie moves to sit next to his legs, reaching up and sliding a hand over Steve’s arm as gently as he can.

“I got you,” he murmurs, leaning closer. “‘M right here.”

He aches to say things he can’t say in front of Steve’s friends. To call Steve honey and sweetheart. He wants to press kisses to the side of Steve‘s head and to his shoulder.

Eddie’s hand creeps over Steve’s arm slowly, rubbing and squeezing until he reaches Steve’s hand that’s in his hair.

“Need you to let go, Steve,” he says, carefully avoiding saying Stevie. He rubs the back of his hand gently, touching his fingers. “Relax your hand.” Honey.

Steve whines, his hand tightening in his hair, and Eddie’s whole body hurts.

“Steve.” Sweetheart. “You’re okay.” He carefully presses his fingertips under Steve’s fingers, nudging them. “Let go, you can hold my hand, tight as you need to.”

The room is silent except for Steve’s stuttering breaths, and after a tight moment, Steve’s hand jumps from his hair to Eddie’s fingers, gripping them tightly. He’s shaking.

“There you go,” Eddie says gently.

He hears a quiet “What the fuck?” behind himself, and he turns slightly.

“Hagen, can you get them out of here?” he asks, but it’s more of a demand. “Like now?”

“I don’t…”

Eddie turns and looks over his shoulder, glaring at him. He’s sitting against a column between stalls, and when their eyes meet he moves to stand.

“Yeah, come on, guys.”

“Are you serious?” one of them asks, sounding like he’s going to laugh. “You want us to leave?”

“Just— Come on, Drew,” Tommy says, and Eddie hears him pushing the boys, but he doesn’t turn, running his thumb over Steve fingers. “He needs space.”

“So you’re leaving him with the freak?” the other one says.

Steve whimpers. His hand tightens on Eddie’s fingers.

“‘S okay,” Eddie murmurs as softly as he can. “‘S mine, Steve.”

He stops listening to the guys bickers behind him, squeezing Steve’s hand.

“Take a deep breath for me.” Honey. “Nice and slow.”

Steve tries, his breath stuttering, his shoulders shaking.

“You got it,” Eddie murmurs. “Breathe in. …All the way, ‘s okay. And out.”

Steve is trying. He’s trying so hard.

Eddie wants to cry.

“I know,” he says softly. “You’re okay, Steve, I’m right here.”

Steve squeezes his hand.

“Inhale when I squeeze,” Eddie says softly, moving to sit in front of him, a leg bent up around Steve. “Exhale when I let go. Okay?”

He waits for a moment, then shifts his hand to grip Steve’s, and he squeezes tightly, listening as Steve takes a staggered, broken inhale, and then he relaxes his hand, and Steve exhales forcefully.

“There you go,” Eddie says. “Good job.” Baby.

“What the fuck?” one of the boys under his breath, and Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand again, turning to glare at them over his shoulder.

“Get out.”

Tommy shoves at one of the boys’ shoulders, tugging at them and pulling them out the door.

“I got you,” Eddie murmurs softly when the door shuts behind them, relaxing his hand and listening to Steve exhale. “You’re okay, sweetheart,” he breathes.

“Eddie,” Steve chokes. His voice breaks.

“I know,” Eddie says, squeezing. “Just breathe, honey, I’m right here. You’re okay.”

He breathes.

Eddie can hear the boys bickering outside, their voices muffled bough that Eddie can’t quite make out the angry remarks they’re making. Eddie leans in and kisses the top of Steve’s head.

“Look up for me,” he murmurs when Steve’s breathing is slower after a moment. He’s still breathing too fast, too heavily. “Lift your head, honey.”

Steve looks up. Tears are streaming down his cheeks, and his nose and eyes are red, his lips dry and chapped, parted as he breathes. Eddie nods, lifting a hand to hold his chin.

“You’re okay,” he says. “Say it for me, Stevie, you’re okay.”

Steve’s eyes flutter for a moment and another tear falls down his cheek.

“‘M ‘kay,” he mumbles weakly, and Eddie smiles, nodding again.

“Yeah, you are,” Eddie whispers.

“Eddie,” Steve chokes desperately.

“I know, Stevie,” Eddie says, moving closer. “You’re okay, ‘m not gonna let anything happen to you, okay?”

He inhales deeply, taking an exaggerated breath so Steve copies him.

“Blow my hair out of my face,” he says, caressing Steve’s chin as he exhales hard.

Tommy raises his voice outside.

Steve glances past Eddie at the door, and Eddie shakes his head.

“Ignore them,” he says softly. “It’s okay.”

“Okay,” Steve breathes, blinking his eyes hard. Another tear falls.

“Tonight,” Eddie murmurs, brushing his thumb over Steve’s chin. “You can come by mine. Stay for the weekend.”

Steve’s lip trembles, and he takes another shaky breath.

“Wayne won’t mind?” he asks breathlessly.

Eddie shakes his head.

“No,” he says softly. “Wayne won’t mind at all. He’ll probably make you tea ‘nd shit.”

“Okay,” Steve says weakly.

“Deep breath.”

Eddie nods when Steve takes a deep breath, shifting his hand, but Steve’s hand tightens on it, gripping two of his fingers tightly. Eddie looks at their hands and smiles softly.

It’s the same way he held his hand at Munchy’s party, when he whispered that he’s always hiding.

You don’t have to hide from me, Eddie had said.

I know.

And now Eddie gets to kiss him. So he does. Softly, chastely.

“You’re okay.”

Steve just nods, exhaling and closing his eyes. He breathes slowly, his chest rising and falling steadily as he squeezes Eddie’s fingers. Eddie brushes his thumb over his skin softly. Steve’s eyes open when the door opens, and Eddie looks behind himself to find Tommy coming in quietly, shutting the door behind himself.

Eddie starts to pull his hand away, but Steve clutches at his fingers, shaking his head as Tommy sits on the floor. Eddie runs his thumb back and forth over his skin.

“You okay, man?” Tommy asks softly. Steve nods, staring at the ground. “What happened?”

Steve shakes his head, his lip trembling, his eyes welling with tears.

“I don’t know,” he chokes. A tear escapes down his cheek, and Eddie wipes it away without thinking. Steve’s eyes flutter shut, and Eddie’s body aches with the desire to kiss him again.

“You’re okay,” Eddie murmurs softly, squeezing Steve’s hand gently. Steve nods and lowers his head to his knees, hiding his face and holding Eddie’s hand to his chest. Tommy looks at Eddie, some odd combination of curiosity and worry shining in his eyes, and Eddie just nods slightly.

“Hagen, can you get my bag?” Eddie asks quietly. “I have a bottle of water in there.”

“Uh, yeah.”

Eddie leans forward and squeezes Steve’s arm while Tommy is getting his bag and rummaging through it for Eddie’s water bottle.

Tommy runs his hand over Steve’s back gently while Steve sips at the water. Steve doesn’t let go of Eddie’s fingers, still holding them tightly even as he drinks the water, his hands still trembling.

And Eddie is reminded of that day in detention with Steve, the soft, kind silence between them. Except that now Tommy Hagen here too, rubbing Steve’s back, his eyes lingering on Steve and Eddie’s linked hands, but he doesn’t say anything. And somehow Eddie doesn’t really worry. Because Tommy’s eyes move on from their hands to Steve’s face, to his tear-streaked cheeks, and he looks so worried and heartbroken that Eddie softens a little bit.

Because even though Tommy Hagen is a dick, Eddie can tell just by looking at him that he loves Steve.

“Where are Drew and Davy?” Steve asks after finishing the water, holding the empty bottle. His voice is rough and tired. Eddie squeezes his hand.

“They went to the cafeteria to wait,” Tommy says softly.

“Okay,” Steve breathes, nodding. He sighs slowly, squeezing Eddie’s fingers.

“Ready?” Eddie asks softly. Steve nods.

Eddie helps him stand, holding his hand tightly, and when he’s standing, he leans against the wall, blinking hard.

“Okay?” Eddie says. Tommy’s hands are out like he’s ready to catch Steve if he falls. Steve blinks again, nodding.

“Yeah, just… Got kinda lightheaded.”

Eddie squeeze his hand before they release each other as Steve stands up straight, nodding again.

“Eat something when you get home,” Eddie says gently. “Have some tea or something.”

Steve’s lips twitch into a small smile and he nods. He thanks Eddie in the hallway quietly, staring at him intently, and Eddie feels like he’s kissing him. His eyes are shining the same way they did at the party as he sat on the floor, reflecting all the quiet self-loathing and sadness that he doesn’t say out loud. Withdrawn. Hiding.

Eddie goes out to his van, carrying the empty water bottle. His eyes are burning the whole time, as he heads down the stairs and out the loud front door, wishing he could go back and take Steve home with him. Hoping that Drew and Davy aren’t assholes to Steve but somehow trusting that Tommy wouldn’t let them.

He’s approaching his van when he hears his name behind him, and he turns to find Tommy jogging after him across the empty parking lot. Eddie huffs, turning back toward his van.

“Fuck off, man,” he says when Tommy gets closer, reaching for the handle of the door.

“No, I’m not— I’m not trying to start shit, I just… I just wanna talk.”

Eddie sighs heavily, turning and leaning against his van, glancing past Tommy.

“Where’s Harrington?”

“He’s with the guys,” Tommy says. “He’s okay, he— he said I could go.”

“What do you want?”

Tommy hesitates, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and Eddie’s never seen his face look like this. Uncomfortable, nervous. Not sneering or grimacing or laughing.

“Why’d you help him?” he asks.

Eddie stomach knots. He takes a breath, pressing his lips together.

“He had a panic attack. I know what they’re like, I would’ve helped any of you,” he says honestly.

Tommy hesitates again, nodding and looking away.

“How’d you know what to do?” he asks quietly.

Eddie looks at the ground, biting his lip.

“…I had my first one when I was a kid,” he says finally. “I just… did what would help me. And saw if it helped him, and it did, so.”

Tommy stares at him for a moment, his eyes wide and shining, and Eddie raises his eyebrows before he stands up straight to turn away.

“What do I do?” Tommy bursts.

Eddie looks at him again.

“What?”

Tommy takes a breath, swallowing. His lip quivers for a moment.

“Steve and I… aren’t really as close we used to be, and I don’t know why, but…”

“Have you considered the fact that you’re an asshole?” Eddie says dryly when Tommy pauses. Tommy stares at him blankly.

“He’s still my best friend,” he says quietly. “If that happens again, if he has another… panic attack. What do I do?”

Eddie stares at him, looking at the desperation in his eyes, and he softens again, leaning against the van, twisting the empty bottle in his hand.

“Panic attacks… My first one was because I… thought I had to go somewhere that— that almost… killed me,” he says quietly, staring at the ground of the driveway as he remembers it. Wayne standing by his hospital bed, telling him that he’ll take him home, and the way it felt like the world was ending. He’d thought Wayne meant home to his father, and it was only after a kind nurse managed to calm him down that he found out Wayne meant home.

“Steve’s…” Eddie continues. “I don’t know what happened, and he might not either, really, but whatever it was, even if it was just…” He pauses, shaking his head. “Something like… subconscious or whatever. It feels like… the end. Everything kind of zeroes in on it, and it just takes over.” He looks up at Tommy, who’s listening intently. “He’s not… thinking. There’s no logic, or— or rationalising. Saying stuff like snap out of it or calm down doesn’t mean shit because he can’t.”

Tommy nods, his lips pursing.

“He’s… freaking out,” Eddie continues. “He’s scared, and panicking, so he can’t breathe, which freaks him out more because it— it feels like he’s dying. And he isn’t getting enough air, so he can’t think, so you— you need to get him to breathe.”

“Okay.”

“He might not… want to be touched,” Eddie adds, squeezing the bottle so the plastic crinkles. “‘S why I asked. If he’s too… overwhelmed, it could make it worse. So… Yes or no questions. Is it okay if I touch you, do you wanna hold my hand. Et cetera.”

“Okay,” Tommy says again, softly. Eddie squeezes the bottle again.

“He needed…” He hesitates, watching the plastic move. “He needed to hold something. ‘S why he was pulling his hair so hard, so I offered my hand.” Tommy is nodding like Eddie doesn’t need to explain it, so he stops.

“It might take a while,” Eddie adds, looking at him. “For him to calm down. To— To breathe normally. So just… stay calm. Don’t stress him out more. I made your friends leave because Steve knew they were there, just… watching him.”

“Right,” Tommy says, blinking and looking at the ground like it’s starting to make sense to him. Eddie looks at him, watching the gears turn in his head until Tommy looking back up at him. “Anything else?”

Eddie pauses, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say, remembering Steve’s sad eyes in the hallway, the way he looked at the ground as he walked away.

“Tell him you love him.”

Tommy blinks.

“I don’t—“ Eddie speaks before Tommy can say anything. “I don’t care if you think it’s queer or whatever, it’s…” He takes a deep breath, sighing. “That was scary for him. I mean— like, terrifying. And he’s tired, and frustrated, and confused and probably really fucking embarrassed. Just…” Eddie looks at Tommy intently. “He hates himself right now. Just make sure he knows that you don’t.”

Tommy is silent for a moment before he nods.

“Okay,” he says quietly.

Eddie stares back at him, taking a breath, twisting the bottle.

“Thank you,” Tommy says. It sounds forced out, the words too sharp, but his eyes are so earnest that Eddie nods.

“You’re a really shitty guy,” Eddie says after a moment, watching Tommy blink. “But you’re not a terrible friend.”

Tommy scoffs.

“Thanks, man.”

Eddie jerks his chin up toward the school.

“Get outta here,” he says lightly, turning and opening the door of his van.

“Thank you, Eddie,” Tommy says, stepping backward. Eddie’s name stops him short, and he looks at him. His eyebrows are raised slightly, his face firm, earnest. “Seriously.”

Eddie nods, pausing one last time.

“If it happens again,” he says, stepping into the van and standing there, looking at Tommy over the door. “And if you need help. Just… find me.”

Tommy nods.

Eddie goes home.

He heads straight to his room to carefully pin Steve’s drawing to his wall with a blue thumbtack. It goes under a sketch of Eddie’s side profile that he got a little while ago. He looks at the drawings as he changes into some sweatpants and a hoodie, and then he goes to look through the cupboard for tea.

He’s in the middle of doing the dishes when he finally hears a car pull up in front of the trailer, and he exhales, shutting off the water and rushing to snatch a towel to dry his hands as he peeks through the blinds to see Steve’s Beemer.

Steve gets out of the car with a backpack over his shoulder, and Eddie gazes, watching before he goes to open the door as Steve is approaching it.

“Hi,” Eddie says softly when Steve looks up at him. Steve exhales when their eyes meet, his chest shifting, and Eddie aches.

“Hi,” he says, pausing at the bottom of the stars. The sun is setting, and his hair looks golden, lighting him up from behind. Eddie thinks briefly that he looks like an angel.

Eddie beckons with a tilt of his head, and Steve comes up the steps. He sets his bag on the ground by the door, and he’s pulling Eddie into his arms before the door is even shut all the way shut.

part 13

read the whole thing on ao3

tagging @thehumblefigtree @sideblogofthcentury @221b1tch <3

comment to be tagged in part thirteen :)

[raven-sapphire]

"You know this" Eddie started talking again, gesturing at the joint in his hand "won't solve your problems". "Fuck you". Maybe it was a little harsh. "I'm just saying," Eddie continued unphased, "that you asked me about drugs the very first day you walked into the Starcourt Mall after Steve Harrington took that job as an ice cream man. Also, usually when you're impatient you just make an annoyed face and nothing else, but this time you looked visually pissed, so I'm guessing the 'problem' is more emotional this time. Ergo it's about Harrington." "Shut up". ___ Summer of 85. Three more months. Just three more months and Tommy would finally escape from Hawkins, from his parents, from Steve. Of course, he didn't think that those three months would be the most beautiful and painful of his life. It all started when he booked - for the umpteenth time - a meeting with Eddie Munson to buy some weed to relax. Except that time was different.

[fanficsfromyesteryear]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘❜𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄

⟶ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 ////////////////////////////////////

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prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 synopsis: there’s a new monster terrorizing the small town of hawkins, indiana, and it’s not one from an alternate dimension. with halloween quickly approaching and everyone’s nerves already on edge, the last thing anybody wants is a prankster serial killer running amuck, but alas, hawkins’s residents aren’t exactly known for getting what they want, are they? warnings: major(??) character death, mentions of animal death, violence, language tag list: @maackiimoo​

         “What are you looking at, creep?” Carol snapped, gaze trained on the hunched figure across the hall.

         Jonathan’s gaze slid from Nancy, just beyond Carol, to the accusatory redhead with furrowed brows. He opened his mouth to stutter out an excuse, but Eddie stopped him.

         “Don’t listen to her,” he muttered, barely paying Carol any mind as he scribbled in an open notebook.

         With a nod, Jonathan pulled another textbook from his locker and shoved it into his bag before focusing on Eddie again. “What’re you working on?” he asked, eager to change the subject.

         “Campaign stuff,” Eddie answered with a shrug, but as Jonathan leaned over for a peek, he angled the paper away. “Top secret campaign stuff.”

         Carol scoffed. “You saw what happened to Billy,” she told Tommy H., who flanked her. “No way he killed himself. Everyone was at that party, too, so it could’ve been anybody, but my money’s on one of them.” Her gaze was still trained on where Eddie and Jonathan were now turning to leave, and Carol moved as if to follow them, but Tommy grabbed her arm.

         “You think they’re cold-blooded killers, and you wanna go start something with them?”

         “Well—”

         “Carol!”

         Y/N and Tina pushed their way past Tommy, Y/N throwing her arm around Carol’s shoulders as they neared. “Meeting in the bathroom,” she announced, already beginning to urge the redhead toward the ladies’ restroom.

         Tommy H. started to trail after them, but Tina interjected, palm to his chest as she nudged him back. “Girls only,” she clarified, grinning mockingly before joining the others as they pushed through the bathroom door.

         Carol stood at the mirror, rifling through her bag on the sink for her Chapstick, while Y/N checked beneath the row of stalls in search of any indication that they weren’t alone. At last, she announced, “It’s clear,” to which Tina smiled and produced a cigarette from her pocket, bringing it up to her lips. Y/N passed her a lighter and entered the nearest cubicle, taking up post against one wall and leaving space for Tina to follow suit.

         “You should really be more careful who your friends are,” Carol said, at last breaking the silence that had settled over them, save for the sound of Tina exhaling a cloud of smoke before giving the cigarette to Y/N.

         It had been the elephant in the room for weeks now, that Y/N had taken a liking to Eddie Munson. Carol and Tina didn’t think he was good enough, but they’d bitten their tongues for her sake—it wasn’t their business what Y/N did when they weren’t around to stop her, but Billy’s death had struck fear and an odd sense of determination into Carol, and the mysterious phone call she’d received was the kick to the pants she needed to meddle in what she considered “problems” that weren’t even hers to solve.

         “What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N asked, peering around the door at Carol’s reflection, the warning glare that Tina sent the redhead going unnoticed. “I’m friends with you—is there something I need to know?”

         “I’m serious, Y/N! You know, I’m surprised you can stand to be around Eddie after what he did to Billy.”

         “Woah! Back up.” Y/N shoved the smoking stick into Tina’s grasp. “Eddie didn’t kill anyone. I was with him, like, all night. Just because someone has different interests than you, doesn’t make them a murderer or give you the right to call them one.”

         “I don’t know,” Carol pressed. “He likes that weird game they’re always talking about in the news. He could be a Satan-worshipper, for all we know—he sure looks like one.”

         Y/N scoffed. “Nancy’s Wheeler’s little brother plays D&D. That doesn’t prove anything.”

         “He’s probably a freakshow, too, then.” Carol heaved a sigh, fingers working to fluff her hair. “Back me up, Tina.”

         Tina had fallen silent for the duration of the exchange and wasn’t looking to get involved now. While she’d agreed with Carol’s points a couple of days ago when they’d first talked about it after Eddie had dropped by her house to pick Y/N up, Carol had no tact. It was one thing to be concerned for a friend but another to point blame and confidently accuse someone of stabbing another classmate to death, and personal biases aside, Tina couldn’t bring herself to do such a thing. As Tina waited for a half-assed excuse for an exit to the conversation—at the very least, a change in topic—to come to mind, she flicked the cigarette into the toilet, foot lifting to press the handle. The water swirling in the bowl reflected her turbulent thoughts, but at Carol’s insistent, “Well?” she started, “I—”

         The door of the stall next to theirs flung open, effectively cutting Tina off before her embarrassment could, and Y/N reached out, grabbing the closure to their own compartment and yanking it closed in the case a teacher had entered their midst.

         “What the hell are you supposed to be?” Carol asked. “You’re a little late—Halloween was last week.”

          Y/N and Tina exchanged a quizzical look, but before they could voice their curiosity, Carol said, “Hey! What are you doing? Get away—” Her angry words fizzled out into a pained screech, though the noise was muffled—by what, the girls didn’t know, and they didn’t dare ask. Instead, they waited with bated breath, hands clasped over their mouths and panic clawing at their throats like a wild beast desperate to break out of its cage as they listened to their companion struggle against her assailant. At last, Carol’s body slumped to the floor with a soft thud, and Y/N and Tina expected to be next, both of them shifting their weight to lean on the door in a poor attempt to keep it bolted shut, but the threat never came.

         Only silence.

         “Are they gone?” Tina whispered, her voice shallow and broken.

         Y/N nodded. “I think so.”

         Timidly, Y/N stepped out of hiding to find that they were alone. Carol laid on the tile, a red puddle oozing out from beneath her limp form. Behind Y/N, Tina’s scream alerted her added presence, but Y/N was hardly able to muster a reaction—all she could do was stare. This wasn’t her first dead body, and at the rate things were going, it probably wouldn’t be her last.

         As Tina ran out into the hallway, calling for help, Y/N ambled along numbly in her wake. Several people rushed past, knocking into her, and she nearly fell if not for the strong hand that reached out to steady her.

         “You okay?” Eddie asked, dark eyes blown wide with concern.

         Y/N shook her head. “Carol—somebody killed her.”

         Eddie’s brow furrowed, and his mouth fell open to speak, but down the hall, Chrissy called Y/N’s name, her words accentuated by frantic footsteps and a bouncing, blonde ponytail. Once she was within reach, Chrissy clutched onto Y/N’s arm, pink fingernails digging into the thick fabric of her sweater’s sleeve. “Let’s get out of here,” Chrissy urged. “This place is giving me the creeps.” Then, sensing she’d interrupted something, she turned to Eddie. “Do you need a ride? I’m sure Jason won’t mind.”

         Jason scoffed as he walked by, clutching Chrissy’s shoulder and tugging her away. “He doesn’t need a ride,” he countered. “I’m sure the Freak can take care of himself.” Jason glanced back to his girlfriend’s prior companion with an impatience in his cold gaze. “Y/N, are you coming?”

         Y/N hesitated, gaze darting between Eddie and the couple. Finally, she said, “I’m sorry. I’ll call you later, okay?” and jogged to catch up with the pair of jocks.

                                           ────── 〔 ☠ 〕─────

         The shrill tone of the telephone went unnoticed by most in the room, save for the woman sat at her desk, flipping mindlessly through a magazine. At the first ring, she exhaled, pushed the book aside, and slid her small notepad over into its place, pen already poised in her grip to jot down a message by the time she answered, “Hawkins, P.D.”

         Florence rose to her feet, shuffling around the corner of the table in front of her, and diligently strode down the dimly lit hallway. She paused at the shut door of the Sheriff’s office, knocking once out of forced politeness, then entered without an invitation.

         Jim Hopper’s muddy boots were propped precariously on the corner of his messy desk, chair leaned back as he licked off the donut glaze that had crusted onto the fingertips of his right hand, his left prying open the blinds for a clearer view of the tree line behind the station. He started at the woman’s sudden arrival but gained composure quickly with a dissatisfied grunt. “What is it, Flo?”

         “Carol Perkins is dead.”

         “Shit,” Hopper muttered, righting his seat. He threw back the rest of this morning’s coffee—cold from lack of attention—and stood, grabbing his coat and hat. “Where is she?”

         “They found her over at the school.”

         Hopper burst out of his office with Florence in tow as she returned to her spot in the office. The man threw on his coat as he strode toward the door, drawing the attention of some of the others as they took in his hurried state.

         “Where ya goin’, Chief?” Powell asked, hand slowly creeping toward his hat as an unspoken question of whether or not he should be accompanying Hopper.

         “The high school,” Jim answered. “A student died.”

         “Jesus,” muttered Officer Callahan. “Another suicide?”

         Hopper paused his movements, fingers stalled on the doorknob. “I’m not so sure it is.”

                                          ────── 〔 ☠ 〕─────

         “I let it happen.”

         The muted strumming of guitar strings halted as Eddie shifted on the floor to get a better view of Y/N. “What?”

         “Carol,” Y/N explained. “I was there. I heard her getting attacked, and I didn’t do anything to stop it.”

         Eddie tilted his head, studying her. Y/N was perched at the edge of his bed, her fingers fiddling anxiously with a loose thread at the hem of her sweater. If she didn’t stop, she’d unravel it, but she didn’t appear to care. A deep furrow had taken up residence between her brows and didn’t show any signs of budging, the corners of her mouth turned downward to match. She stared at the space beside Eddie, one of the only bare sections of his wall, as if afraid to meet his eyes, that the information she’d just revealed to him would somehow negatively alter how he viewed her.

         Setting aside his instrument, Eddie hesitantly scooted over until he was sitting crisscross on the carpet in front of Y/N. “It’s not your fault,” he began. “You know, I can’t think of anyone outside of a comic book that would’ve done anything other than what you had. We’re only human, and there’s nothing wrong with being scared.”

         “That’s all I am, though,” Y/N answered, a tearful crack in her words. “Every day now, I’m scared, and I don’t even know what I’m scared of.” She inhaled sharply. “Maybe Carol was right. We shouldn’t be friends.”

         No matter how much Eddie had braced himself to hear Y/N utter that sentence, it hadn’t done anything to soften the blow. He’d allowed himself to become too comfortable, something he’d always been wary of when it came to letting new people into his life, and she’d stolen his breath with a punch to the stomach when he wasn’t looking. No. Eddie had been punched in the stomach before, and this felt worse.

         “Oh,” he said. “Okay.”

         Y/N gave a helpless shake of her head, strands of hair catching in the dampness that now coated her reddening cheeks as her sadness overcame her. “I think I’m cursed. Everyone close to me keeps dying, and I can’t—I don’t want you to be next.”

         Eddie’s lips twitched. Oh. “Don’t worry about me,” he assured, risking a timid smile. “I’m tough. I mean, you heard Carver today—I can take care of myself.”

         “You shouldn’t have to.”

         “Well, sweetheart,” Eddie said, “that’s a risk I’m willing to take.” He reached up, hand finding purchase on the side of Y/N’s face. His thumb brushed away water droplets as they trailed along her skin, urging her to meet his eyes. “If you’ll let me.”

         “I can’t ask you to do that.”

         “I know.”

         He was going to anyway.

         As the sun sank toward the horizon, the shadows cast through Eddie’s thin curtain grew longer, reaching toward the opposite wall of his room and threatening to creep down the short hallway toward the kitchen. The seemingly endless lull in conversation that had settled over the duo was ended only when Eddie pointed out that it was getting dark. “C’mon, I’ll take you home,” he said.

                                         ────── 〔 ☠ 〕─────

         The front door had barely slammed into place when the phone started ringing, its demanding calls bouncing off the walls of the dark, empty house.

         “Jesus Christ,” came an irritated mutter.

         Steve had been with Dustin Henderson for hours of his life that he’d never get back, spent in a vain search for the boy’s supposed cat-eating lizard. He was tired—the teen wanted nothing more than to take a shower, scrub the dirt from his hair and wipe the grime from his face, and crawl into his inviting albeit cold bed.

         “Hello?” Steve asked, pressing the receiver to his cheek.

         “Remember me?”

         “Look, buddy, I don’t have time for your bullshit tonight.” Steve moved the speaker away from his ear, phone angled back toward its cradle, but the voice crackling from the other end was still audible, and what it said stopped him in his tracks.

         “I’ll take that as a yes. It’s a good thing, too, because I haven’t forgotten you. That future deadbeat and the girl were just bumps in the road, but your time will be here soon enough. Better keep that bat handy, Harrington—never know when you might need it. Not that it’ll do you any good, of course. You won’t see me coming, just like poor Barbara in that swimming pool of yours. At least you’ll deserve it.”

[roanofarcc]

PROJECT SUNSHINE CHAPTER FOUR → TEENAGEDOM

summary: steve harrington x oc | on Ao3

when another product of Hawkins National Laboratory escaped a long-survived nightmare alongside her sister, she crashed into one unsuspecting teenage boy and dragged him deeper into the dark mysteries that made up their hometown. 

word count. 3.1k | Masterlist

warnings: cannon typical violence, child-abuse, horror, gore, and depictions of mental illness. parts of this story were written pre-season 4 release. slight cannon divergence. 

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When Sunshine was little, she was allowed to press glow-in-the-dark stars to the ceiling of her room. It wasn’t her idea, but rather the oldest child inside the Lab. Ivy, or 002, somehow convinced them to let them all decorate their otherwise cold and white rooms with the stars. And after they were stuck to the ceiling, whenever Sunshine was upset, Ivy would sneak into her room after curfew, and they’d look at the stars together. Ivy would tell her to make a wish, and she promised that it would come true, even if they were real stars. But the older Sunshine got, she realized that wishes on fake stars didn’t come true, no matter how much you believe in them.

However, for the first time in what felt like her whole life, she saw real stars with her own eyes.

Seated in the backyard of Steve’s house, Sunshine found herself surrounded by a group of teenagers who were drastically different from her.

It was a dangerous game she was playing. The more people who knew about her added to the long list of threats the two posed, but it was a calculated risk on her part. It was either return to Steve’s house for one night or risk a night in the woods.

And it was going rather well. The lie that Steve had told his friends worked. They all believed she was a family friend, and none of them questioned it despite the obvious differences she had from them. To them, she was another teen at a party; they had no idea of the nightmare she was still too close to.

Sunshine noticed every small difference between them and her. The two boys held cans of beer in their hands and smirks plastered on their faces, and the girls wore soft-colored clothing and carried an air of sweet carelessness with them. They all were normal kids who talked about school and their plans for the weekend, while Sunshine sat with her knees pulled into her chest while the world slowly closed in around her.

Her head spun from the events that took place that day, which were full of bad decisions. When she left that morning, she didn’t realize how unprepared for the real world she was. Every person she passed made her heart seize up inside her chest The air of Hawkins was cold, and all the streets were unfamiliar.

She had roamed the woods for a while in search of Eleven, and the whole time she thought of Ivy. The older girl had been the closest thing they all had to a mother, but she was still a teenager herself. Ivy acted much older, though. She was the one who pressed kisses to their foreheads before they fell asleep and held their hands when they were scared.

Sunshine wished, more than anything, that Ivy was beside her. She would’ve known just want to do, where to go, and how to find Eleven.

Instead, Sunshine was still without her sister and still haunted by the ghost of Two.

Before she got too lost in the woods, Sunshine hesitantly ventured into town to see if her sister had sought out the paved streets instead of the towering trees. And when she entered the convenience store that afternoon, she had no intention of drawing any attention to herself. She had the money from Steve tucked safely inside her coat pocket and planned to use to it buy something to eat. But when she walked down one of the aisles, there was a woman at the other end who stared at her with a gaze that bore into Sunshine's skin. It freaked her out, so she hurried into the next aisle, but as she did so, she swore she saw the frame of a familiar ghost with dark skin and even darker eyes pass her by. In a frantic blur, she tried to chase after the conjured version of Ivy her mind had created.

She followed the false hope of a child who longed for something comfortable and familiar in such an unfamiliar place. But there was a bag of chips in her hand that she hadn’t paid for still in her hands as she rushed toward the door, and the man in charge thought she was trying to steal.

He refused to listen to her and grabbed her wrist harshly. The contact caused her to freeze and almost shut down completely. It felt like she was back in the Lab, in a paper gown and with a shaved head, being dragged down the hall. Her limbs went stiff, and her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. She was so sure the man was going to make one phone call and that’d be it for her. They’d find her and put her right back inside the very place she had finally escaped from.

And instead of fighting back, all she could do at the moment was try not to cry like a pathetic child.

But, in an odd turn of events, the boy she’d met the night before appeared out of nowhere and untangled her from the mess she’d made. Maybe that was why she was so quick to follow him back to his house for another night.

Even in the presence of strangers in his backyard, Sunshine was a little less petrified. The people were all kids like her, and she had always trusted kids more than adults. There had yet to be an adult she came across who didn’t lie to her, hurt her, or manipulate her in some way or another. Adults never kept their promises, and Sunshine had seen adults do some of the vilest things imaginable to innocent children who couldn’t defend themselves.

It was children and teenagers alike who she trusted and put her faith into; they were the only ones who hadn’t let her down. So, she didn’t run from the unusual social scene, and sat in a chair beside Steve’s swimming pool and listened to his friends talk.

A soft sigh fell from Sunshine’s lips, and it was visible in the cool air. She watched the stars that glittered in the darkness; real stars that maybe, just maybe, made wishes come true.

“So, Stella,” someone said, calling her attention using the name Steve had made up back at the store. A petite brunette, who sat in the seat beside her, asked, “Where’d you say you were from?”

Sudden panic swelled up in her chest and her eyes darted toward Steve, who was already looking at her. He cleared his throat and toyed with the can of beer in his hands, probably formulating another lie. “Oh, man, you know, her family moves around like crazy. But, uh, you said New York was the next stop, right?”

Sunshine nodded slowly. “Yes. New York,” she repeated.

The girl who asked her the question introduced herself as Nancy. She was about the same height as Sunshine, with long hair that fell over her shoulders and a soft smile. “That’s cool! I’ve always wanted to visit New York,” she said. Maybe Sunshine did too.

One of the friends that she’d met earlier that day, Carol, flicked a lighter and grumbled, “New York’s gotta be better than this shithole.” She took a long drag of a cigarette and blew out the smoke before she spoke again. “How long are you crashing at Steve’s bachelor pad?”

“N-Not long,” she answered quickly and a little clumsy. She wasn’t used to being asked so many questions or talking much to anyone who wasn’t Eleven. And even then, she had hardly saw her sister inside the Lab.

“Not much of a talker, huh?” Tommy mused.

Sunshine shifted in her seat, unsure of what she was supposed to say until Steve steered his friend’s attention away from her. He held up another two beers and whistled at the boy. “Hey, dude, shotgun?”

Tommy’s lips quirked upwards in a smirk as Steve tossed him the can.

She watched closely as the two boys poked holes in the cans and threw their heads back, drinking it as quickly as they could before the can was empty, then they threw their trash to the ground and cheered.

There was almost nothing she understood about the world around her. Every word from the teens' mouths, mixed with carefree laughter, made her sink further into the daunting realization that she was still all alone. Steve and his friends fit together; they made sense to each other. It was Sunshine who was the clear outlier. Her mind had been re-wired to remove almost all normalcy inside of it. There was a persistent buzz in the back of her brain and a dangerous glow she could create in the palms of her hands. She wasn’t like them, but she wished she could have been.

It didn’t matter how far she and Eleven ran away from Hawkins, she’d never fully rid herself of the past. All Sunshine hoped for was that her sister got a second chance. Eleven was a few years younger, and there was still time for her to live a somewhat normal life as a kid if they fully escaped.

“Oh, shit!” A chorus of yells ripped through the air, causing Sunshine to flinch at the noise and turn her attention onto a short-haired redhead, Barb, who was standing and clutching her hand as blood dripped down her arm and onto the concrete below.

“Barb…” Nancy stood up too and placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder, but Barb jerked away and shook her head.

“It’s fine, Nance. It’s fine,” she muttered before she glanced at Steve. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“It’s just down the first hall and to the right.”

Right then, Sunshine felt a sudden shift in the air, one that she couldn’t explain but felt deep in her gut. She was struck with an almost violent sense of unease, and her eyes stayed glued to the drops of blood that soaked into the concrete.

The air felt thick and even colder than before.

Sunshine watched as the group of teens, minus Barb, returned to their conversation as if nothing had happened. Turning her head, she peered out into the darkness toward the woods.

The bottoms of her feet still stung with cuts from running, and her body still ached. All of that pain collided with a feeling of dread that only increased when she gazed into the woods.

She wanted to believe it all was just an overwhelming feeling of guilt. Guilt over not finding her sister and splitting up with her in the first place. But, that little voice in the back of her head warned her that it was something more.

There was something out there.

A dual set of screams rang out within a colorless bedroom. A young number Seven fell against the floor with a strangled gasp before she scrambled backward until her back hit the wall on the opposite side of the room from an even younger boy.

The boy’s eyes were glassed over, foggy and unfocused, and a line of blood dripped down from his nose. Ivy jumped down from the bed she sat on, observing, and kneeled beside Seven. She placed her cold fingers on the little girl’s shoulders and stared at the crescent-shaped nail marks felt behind on Seven’s forearm, deep enough to draw blood.

The air was thick and buzzed with unnatural static that caused the hair on all three children's arms to stand on end.

Ivy let go of Seven and slowly crossed the room to where the youngest of the three sat. The boy held his legs close to his chest and let tears dot his pale cheeks, but he bit down hard on his lower lip to stifle his cries.

“What did you see?” Ivy asked calmly, as to not frighten the boy any further than he already was. His chin trembled as his eyes cleared and returned to their natural, unhazy gray. “Tell us what you saw, Nine.”

Nine sniffled and rested his chin on top of his knees, gaining the courage to speak. “Dark,” he whispered. There was something unnerving about the tone of his quiet voice.

“What else?” Ivy pressed.

They all knew Nine was fragile - most kids inside the Lab were despite what they were capable of - but Nine’s abilities were not to be tip-toed around. Whatever he saw when his fingernails dug into Seven’s skin was important.

“Nine, tell us what you saw.”

“Dark. The dark, so much of it,” he cried as more tears gathered in his eyes and ran down his face. There were things inside the little boy’s head that neither Two nor Seven could fathom. His head was like a hive of wasps, and each time he made contact with someone, it was like kicking the nest. It buzzed too loud inside his ears; too many blurred figures, bright flashes, all-consuming darkness, and hundreds of hushed conversations from unknown voices that he couldn’t make out.

“A-And the end.”

The sound of splashing and loud laughter drew Sunshine out of her memory. She tried to shake the image of Ivy and Nine out of her head as she looked away from the woods and onto the pool, where the teens had pushed each other into. They swam around still in their clothes with wide smiles.

Sunshine swallowed the lump in her throat and hurried from the backyard back into Steve’s house.

She felt hot and cold at the same time. Her fingers were numb, but the back of her neck beaded with sweat. She didn’t know what was happening to her, or in general. Maybe it all was inside her head, some kind of side effect of escaping the Lab and experiencing the real world. Or maybe the little boy from her memory knew something no one else did; maybe he had felt the same sense of dread she did at that very moment.

There was something wrong about Hawkins; it was like the rancid air of the Lab leaked out onto the town, and no one noticed, or they chose to ignore it. Maybe that was easier to do when you hadn’t witnessed what happened behind the white walls.

Sunshine turned down the hallway and almost collided with someone who was rounding the corner as well.

“Oh!” Barb gasped out in surprise. “Geez, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” Sunshine said, her heart racing. Her gaze dropped onto the girl’s hand, which was wrapped in a red-stained bandage. “Is your hand okay?”

Barb nodded. “Yeah. It’s just a little cut, but I guess that’s what I get.” She let out a small, almost bitter laugh that punctuated the end of her sentence. Barb’s eyes met Sunshine’s before they shifted slightly and across her face, probably noting the bruises that looked a little worse in the brighter lightening of Steve’s house than compared to outside. “Are you okay?”

With a tight-lipped smile, Sunshine replied, “Yes. I just…I needed, uh-” Her words came out clunky and she didn’t really know what she was trying to say, but Barb seemed to know or guessed that she did.

“You need a break from the happy couples out there?” Barb said.

To Barb, it seemed like she and Sunshine shared something in common like they were on the same page. What they supposedly were on the same page about, Sunshine had no clue.

“Tell me about it,” Barb huffed. “You’re just lucky you don’t have to go to school with them.”

There was a sadness that Sunshine saw behind the teen’s eyes, but it was a kind of sadness that confused her. The two girls that stood face to face in the hall lived very different lives, but Sunshine pretended to understand, and just for a moment, Barb believed that Steve’s friend Stella understood just how she felt. For a moment, Barb believed that Sunshine understood something as mundane as teenage drama.

“Hey, Barb. Can you talk for a sec?” Nancy’s voice came from somewhere behind Sunshine and it was followed by more chatter and footsteps. The group all entered the home in their soaked clothes.

Barb’s shoulders slumped slightly before she slipped past Sunshine and disappeared around the corner to speak with her friend Nancy.

Steve’s other two friends, Tommy and Carol wandered into the kitchen, which only left Steve. He had a towel draped over his shoulders and his hair felt flat against his head. The carefree and happy look on his face faltered when he met Sunshine’s gaze, who still stood in the hall with her face paled and muscles tense.

“Everything all right?” he asked, walking toward her.

She wasn’t sure she had an answer to that, not one that could explain just how she felt. Every emotion she experienced felt out of place inside her head. She was so used to pushing all of those feelings down, but they refused to stay put and all rose to the surface at once.

With a quiet sigh, she replied with a simple, “Yes.”

Steve didn’t look too convinced of her answer, but it was clear that his attention was elsewhere. He wiped a few drops of water from his cheek and gestured down the hall. “There are clean pajamas in the laundry room, and my mom always keeps the bathroom down there stocked with stuff, if you want to shower or anything,” he said. “And there are still blankets and pillows on the couch, okay?”

Sunshine nodded, and Steve took that as his cue to return to his friends.

After grabbing a change of clothes, she locked herself in the bathroom.

Warm water worked to soothe her tense muscles just slightly, and she tried to focus on the shower itself instead of the tangled web of thoughts inside her head. She scrubbed her skin until it was raw, making sure that any trace of the woods or the Lab was washed down the drain. She even rubbed her tattoo in a fruitless attempt to erase that identity completely, but it’d never leave.

“The end.”

Over the running water, Nine’s words still sounded in her ears. They stirred up a cold, hopeless feeling deep inside her chest, snaking around her heart and squeezing it tight. She had tried to ask him what he meant, what he saw, but she never got the answer. All she knew was that Nine saw something when his fingers dug into her arm, showing him her future.

That, among many other things, were answers Sunshine would never get.

She wouldn’t be the only one who wouldn’t get the answers they deserved either.

Blood ran down the drain of the tub from a cut that Sunshine accidentally reopened on the palm of her hand. Outside, another drop of blood fell into the swimming pool. It hit the blue surface and mixed with the stench of chlorine, and yet another mystery unraveled in Hawkins.

Tagged → @thearcher-winchester-version @suniloli

@sattlersquarry

[bangaveragewhitewine]

⋆⁺₊❅ the snow ball

teacher!Steve Harrington x teacher!Reader 

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: My second fic for @littlexdeaths The Twelve Days of Promptmas takes us back to 1996. At the annual Snow Ball Dance, Girl Power is supreme and the English teacher is standing very close to Mr H… 

Content: The tension is high. 90’s nostalgia, teacher puns and passing notes. Redefinition of the word nemesis, now to be read as ‘that one colleague you have a lethal crush on’ (the girls who get it, get it)

✨bang average festive fics✨ Steve Harrington masterlist ✨

December 1996

The opening bars of Wannabe are cut by the sound of thirty-odd teenage girls squealing with excitement as they crowd onto the dancefloor in threes and fours. The too-cool-to-dance girls bop and bounce their heads, the popular girls perform like they are at home in their bedroom mirrors or the Superbowl Half-Time Show. Geeky and quiet girls sparkle joyfully under the disco ball, any lack of confidence forgotten by utter glee. Girl Power reigns supreme over Meadow Hill Middle School as the world-ending pettiness and hormonal squabbles of thirteen and fourteen-year-olds are soothed and solved by the bouncy vocals and practiced choreography. 

You watch the boys stand and stare from the sidelines, buoying each other up as they whisper about who they might ask to dance with later and playing down their nerves. You have seen first love and first heartbreak tonight, watching Andi Cooper sway with Brian W to Always Be My Baby as Danny D looked on with tears in his eyes. Poor kid. 

“D’you think they’ll riot if Just A Girl comes on next?”

Your head tilts back against the streamer-covered wall behind you and you can’t help a little smirk at the thought of Female Revolution fuelled by Gwen Stefani and the Spice Girls. 

“Mm, imagine the headlines. Ballroom Blitz - Meadow Hill reduced to ruins by festive female rage.”

He laughs and places a cup of punch into your hand, keeping an appropriate distance between your bodies as you survey the Snow Ball in full swing. 

“And that’s why you’re the English teacher. Such a way with words.” 

“Mm, nice use of sarcasm, Mr Harrington. Gold star.” 

The punch is not spiked, but your words sound a little barbed to the unfamiliar ear. All part of the fun. 

Speaking of the punch, there’s a hipflask in his jacket, full of some strong spirit that he will share with you once the kids have been picked up, while the DJ is packing away his kit. 

“Thanks, you’ve taught me well...” 

You look up, meeting his cocoa-coloured eyes, caught staring. His tone is less barbed, more sincere, and when he says your name - your teacher name - you feel fizzy and warm all over. 

Steve feels it too, a swirling spiralling drag low in his gut. 

It’s fleeting, too quick and far too much for where you are. Too heavy for a gym that smells like sweat masked by Tommy Girl & Victoria's Secret body spray, and looks like an explosion of blue and silver and glitter, festooned with polystyrene snowflakes.

You’re the first to look away, breaking his stare to make sure that revolution is not in fact being stirred up by girls in sparkly dresses and frosted lipgloss. 

Across the dancefloor, you watch Coach Farrell mouthing along the words as he keeps an eye on the aforementioned untainted punch. A perfect distraction from that moment of too much.

“Look at Farrell. Be subtle.”

Steve can just about hear your voice over the scream-singing and chances a glance at the veteran of Physical Education.

“Maybe he’s mellowing.” There’s the sarcasm again. He sips his punch and murmurs, “Asshole.” 

Your shoulders shake with laughter as Wannabe reaches its peak. You are more tickled by Steve’s candour than the spectacle of it all. So here’s the story from A to Z… Neither of you is immune to its catchiness as you watch your students create core memories.

If you wanna be my lover…

You catch each other’s eye again as the proclamation of Girl Power bleeds out. Your face feels hot, the fluttering feeling returns. 

Steve is the one to break it this time, sipping his punch to cool down what is threatening to boil over. 

It’s not just tonight, not simply because he looks hot in his navy blazer and slacks with his stupidly perfect hair. Not only because he helped you re-stick the streamers that had started to sag and fall before the night even began. Not because you caught him looking at the way navy velvet hugged your body, or because he told you looked ‘a million bucks’. 

This has been simmering for two years since he walked into the teacher’s lounge full of confidence and charm, sent searching for you by the administrator who promised the new History teacher that you would show him around. Two years of teaching next door to each other, pretending to be competitive about how your homeroom performed in the Readathon, using the playful rivalry to feature ‘nemesis’ as your word of the week with a picture of Mr H pinned to the board. 

Two years of sharing gossip and frustrations about the district and asshole parents over teacher’s lounge coffee and ungraded papers. Coming in early and staying late to help each other decorate your classrooms for the holidays, just because. Two years of pretending you were not stoking the fire of a crush bigger than the sun, and brushing off teasing questions from students and teachers alike. 

You were just friends, but it stung when you overheard he had a date planned for the weekend. You were just friends, but when you saw his arm around a pretty blonde at a bar one Friday night, you headed home early and hoped he had not seen you. You were just friends but you understood again why teens and poets were so dramatic about matters of the heart. 

You tried to close yourself off, became spiky and quiet to protect yourself from inevitable heartbreak. But Steve was persistent. When you stood him up for coffee for the third time, he delivered it to your desk with a homemade maple pecan muffin with ‘Drink Me’ and ‘Eat Me’ tags as a nod to your seventh graders' reading assignment for the term. 

You let your friends set you up on dates with colleagues and cousins and made yourself unavailable. You found it harder and harder to pretend not to want to spend your shared-free periods shooting the shit with him. To see him looking a little bit lost without his work bestie for company, even when he fit in just fine with the other teachers.

So you gave in. 

You had seen first-hand how crushes ruin friendships; you saw it every day in your classroom and the hallways. You were too old for that and felt like a fraud standing at the top of your classroom teaching kids how to identify themes and literary devices and formulate an objective summary of a text while you were stuck on how Steve's hair looked today and the way he smiled at you in the parking lot.

You could get over yourself, choke down your feelings and mask the bitterness with his baked treats and teacher’s lounge coffee.

The olive branch came in the form of a mug festooned with the face of Abraham Lincoln and the words ‘That’s so four score and seven years ago’. There was also a whole box of peanut butter chocolate chip cookies to sweeten the deal. 

His smile was brighter than the sun and his laugh echoed around the empty classroom. Friends again.

Things went back to normal but your crush could not be overcome. It only got worse as Steve became more charming, opened more doors for you and opened up a little more when you graded papers together. You found it easy to open up to him too. The simmering of something more than friends was threatening to bubble up and boil over.

This afternoon, you found a gift on your desk. Beneath blue and white snowflake patterned paper was a mug. 

‘Though she be but little she is fierce.’ 

Inside the mug was a note in Steve’s handwriting. 

Will you dance with me at the Snow Ball tonight? Yes / No. 

The note feels like it is burning your skin, tucked beneath your bra strap. He has been playing it supremely cool all night - you would expect nothing less from Mr Harrington - but you have caught him staring all evening, fleeting glances that the kids are too excited and distracted to see.

Wannabe is followed by the Macarena. You both watch on as the boys standing around the edges of the gym are herded onto the floor by Mrs Willis, who has hogged the mic and insists that ‘everyone knows this one!’

Shared laughter is smothered and hidden by cups of untainted punch, and it’s only a matter of time before both of you are pulled onto the dancefloor to join in. 

Over the music and Mrs Willis’s encouragement, you hear him mutter “Not what I had in mind,” as you fall in step with the student body who are totally mortified that their teachers are dancing.

You both endure almost four minutes of in-sync choreography before the DJ pulls the plug and transitions into All I Want For Christmas and you are free to shuffle to the sidelines again, side by side against the streamers.

The myrrh and amber notes of Steve’s cologne tickle your nose as you stand close. 

You have to do it now. 

Before you can chicken out, you quickly slide the note from its hiding place and into the pocket of his blazer and pray that no one saw. 

“I love the mug. Thank you.”

His eyes light up with more than the reflections of the silver streamers and his fingers wrap around the body-warm slip of paper. 

“Yeah? You’re welcome, I thought it suited you. And, y’know. Shakespeare.”

Steve’s back to playing cool, but beneath the surface the bubbles fizz and rise and the butterflies flap their wings. You can see it, feel it too. 

“And,” he continues, “I’ve seen you in action at those district meetings so ‘fierce’ felt appropriate. And I’m taller than you so…” 

His lips curve into a smile as you roll your eyes. 

“Yeah yeah, big guy. I can still change my answer on that note…” 

Mirth and mischief are replaced by relief, pure joy and a little hint of a scowl. 

“I’ll play nice. Promise.”

There’s an unspoken, “Will you?”

“I’ll play nice too. Just don’t step on my tiny girl-feet.”

Another look that is both too much and just right is held between you for just a few moments. 

“Find me later, Mr. Harrington.” 

Steve watches you swish away, swathed in deep blue velvet and your dancing shoes. 

Later on, when the hall is clear of students and chaperones, when the hipflask has been opened and shared, he will spin you under his arm and watch you glitter beneath the disco ball.

If you made it to the end, thank you for reading - I hope you enjoyed!! Comments, reblogs and likes are loved, adored and stored in my heart!

[harringtonstilinski]

Call It What You Want - Steve Harrington

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader Word Count: 3,080 Warnings: fluff, squint hard for angst, ignore the fact that eddie has risen from the dead, lol Requested: no | yes; i hope it meets your expectations, @stevesxyellowxsweater!! came from this prompt list Smut: no | yes; A/N: Hi, friends! So, this hellsite decided to delete/eat the original fic of this. If you like this, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

Steve Harrington. Your childhood best friend turned… acquaintance? Hell, you don’t even know anymore. You two used to be inseparable before he became King Steve, then your friendship went to shit… or at least you think it did.

When he started spending less and less time with you over the course of high school, your mind couldn’t help but go to the worst case scenarios. He didn’t want to be your friend anymore, he didn’t like you as a friend anymore, he was in the popular crowd while you weren’t so that made him not like you, Tommy H. and Carol, and many more.

Everything came to a head during both of your Senior year. You had asked him to hang out a couple of days after he and Nancy broke up, just wanting to cheer up your best friend. When he ditched you for a whole ass month, you decided to quit trying.

It was now summer of ‘86, just a couple of months after the earthquake. You were volunteering at the high school gym, or makeshift shelter, when you spotten him, folding clothes.

You tried to avert your eyes when he looked up and over, feeling eyes on his figure, but you couldn’t. Lost in those hazel eyes that you were once your favorite things to look at.

He pulled his lips together in a tight smile, nodding his head once at you before looking back down at the shirt in his hands, finishing the fold he started on it.

“Why don’t you just, I don’t know, talk to him?” Robin said, effectively scaring you.

After jumping ten feet from your skin, you placed a hand over your heart, bending at the waist ever so slightly, resting your free hand on the table in front of you. “Holy shit, don’t do that again.”

“Look, I know it’s been years since you guys have talked, but–”

“If you tell me it’ll benefit us both in the long run again, I’m gonna take these suspenders and snap them on your tits,” you interrupted, eyebrow raised.

Robin held her hands up, looking down slightly as she said, “Okay, fair enough. But seriously, though? Just saying hey and catching up wouldn’t hurt anyone. Especially Dustin.”

You looked over at your little brother, watching as he continued to hand people cups of water and blankets, his leg having long been healed from his fall back into the Upside Down. Sighing, you whispered, “I know,” before looking back at Robin. “I know he’s already lost Eddie. He can’t lose Steve, too.”

“Even though it feels that way,” your brother said, setting his tray down next to you.

Wrapping your arm around his shoulders, you sighed. “You haven’t.”

“He’s always going on dates.”

Brows furrowed, you replied, “He’s always gone on dates. His asshole of a father always told him that if he wasn’t settled down by a certain age then he was considered a failure in his eyes. Which he isn’t… nor will he ever be.”

Dustin and Robin looked at each other behind your head, both of them raising their eyebrows in unison at your words, realization hitting them both. You had a crush on Steve. 

And of course, your shithead of a little brother looked back at you with a devilish smile after watching Steve take a few steps towards you. “Well, here’s your chance to get that date you’ve always wanted.”

Looking at him confused, you asked, “What are you–” before being interrupted by both him and Robin saying, “Bye!,” walking away as Steve approached the table.

You looked from Dustin to Robin as the two of them walked away, mouth ajar before bringing your bottom lip between your teeth and looking in front of you. A small smile appeared on your face, seeing that playful smile that Steve always gave.

“Hey, loser,” he said.

Releasing your lip, you scrunched your eyebrows, greeting him with, “Buttface.”

A chuckle came from his mouth, his head bending forward as his chin became parallel with his collarbone. When he brought his head back up, you saw nothing but amusement in his eyes as he said, “Buttface? Really?”

Crossing your arms, you retorted, “Well, you are. You fucking ditched me.”

All amusement left his eyes at your words, fear and anxiety crashing into yours. “Oh, my god. Steve, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say it. I just slipped out–”

“It’s okay,” he said, stopping your words. Nodding, he added, “I mean, I did deserve it. I was an asshole and I’m majorly sorry for that.”

Smiling a little to yourself, you tilted your head and quietly asked, “Did just say majorly? What is this? 1982?”

He looked at you confused, but laughed nonetheless. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

Going back to messing around with the items in front of you at the table, you said, “You were always one for trends. Still are, apparently.”

“What do you mean?”

Gesturing to his clothes, you eyed his outfit before locking eyes with him again. “Need I say more?”

“What about the hair?”

“Still on trend with that. It’s your best attribute. I predict, though, in about… twenty or so years, you’re gonna cut it short.”

Leaning his hands on the table, he asked, “Will I still look good?” “Of course,” you chuckled. “You always have. Even when we were kids and your parents made you get those… oh, what are they called?” You thought for a moment before gasping. “Oh, my god! It was a bowl–”

“You finish that sentence and I’ll make sure everyone sees your haircut from the late 70’s.”

With wide eyes, you said, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t try me, princess.”

You narrowed your eyes at the nickname he used to call you when the two of you were kids. You loved it until you reached high school when Carol started calling you princess to get under your skin.

He started using it in a derogatory way after that just to please his friends, which pissed you off to no end. Steve would end up going home after school or hanging out with Tommy H and Carol, regretting the words he’d said to you.

That’s when you both made the conscious decisions, separately, to stop hanging out. When you two walked across the stage at graduation, you cheered and clapped for each other, spotting each other in the crowd and giving each other a small smile.

Realizing what he’d called you, his eyes went wide with shock. “Sweetheart, I am so sorry.”

Waving him off, you looked down. “It’s okay, Steve. I’m over it.”

“Clearly not with the way you just looked at me.”

“And how was that?” you asked, looking from the blanket you were moving into Steve’s eyes.

With a small smile, he replied, “Like you wanted to kill me.”

“Oh, my god. Just ask her out!” Dustin said, walking behind Steve.

Your eyes went wide, not believing that just happened, but… Steve apparently believed it because not five seconds after Dustin had disappeared, he asked, “Would you? Go on a date with me?”

Flabbergasted, you opened and closed your mouth like a fish out of water, your brain going a million miles an hour as you tried to come up with an answer as an arm came around your shoulders, ultimately halting your train of thought.

“Of course she’d love to, dingus,” Robin said. You could hear the smile behind her words… and see it as you turned your head to face her.

“Robin,” you quietly hissed.

“Oh, shush,” she whispered. “You know you want to.”

You knew, deep down in your heart you knew you wanted to go on that date with one Steve Harrington. You had always wished that he would ask you, but alas… he never did. Always asking out the popular girls, the girls on the cheerleading team or dance team. And it always broke your heart.

This time, though, was different. It was you he was asking, not some other girl that only wanted to get into his pants… or he into theirs.

Sighing, you closed your eyes for a moment before gathering your thoughts and nodding your head. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Yeah, okay, what?” Robin said, the smile evident on her face.

“Yes, Steve, I’ll go on a date with you.”

~~~

Two weeks had gone by before you were standing in front of your vanity mirror, looking over your outfit.

“Hey, female - holy shit.”

You turned and spotted Eddie standing at your doorway, a cassette tape in his hands that he nearly dropped. Chuckling, you said, “Hey, Eddie. What’cha got there?”

“Uhh,” he said, looking from you to the cassette. Looking up with a devilish smile on his face, he played with it, before tilting his head and scrunching his nose. “Maybe it’s that album you’ve been looking for.”

Scrunching your brows in thought, you wracked your brain trying to think of what album he could be talking about until it hit you with a gasp. “Def Leppard’s Pyromania?”

Pointing at you with the cassette, Eddie smiled and said, “The very one.”

Squealing happily, you ran and jumped into your best friend's arms, hugging him tightly around his neck before releasing him, hands cupping his cheeks. “Thank you, Ed.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He gave you another quick hug before adding, “Oh, by the way. You look beautiful. You’re gonna knock Harrington’s socks off.”

Chuckling, you said, “Thanks, Eddie.” At the sound of Steve’s laugh, your body tensed the slightest bit, your best friend noticing.

“Hey,” Eddie said, voice gentle. “It’s gonna be okay. Don’t worry. If he tries anything, just let me know and I’ll kick his ass.”

“In what? D&D?”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes going the tiniest bit wide before he nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah, you got me there.”

You laughed as you turned to put the cassette on your vanity, giving yourself one more look over before exiting your room, purse on your shoulder. When you spotted Steve standing at the door with Dustin, laughing, your heart leapt into your throat. Steve looked damn good, and you knew tonight wouldn’t end without the two of you making things official… after talking everything out.

When Dustin looked at you, his smile never faded. “Well, here she is. The lady of the hour.”

“Oh, shut up,” you said, giving him a side hug as Steve chuckled.

He opened the door for you, escorting you out, Dustin, your mom and Eddie wishing the two of you a good night.

“Ten bucks they end up together,” Dustin says.

“I’ll up you ten and say they’ll do more than just ‘get together’,” Eddie replied.

With a disgusted look on his face, Dustin looked up to his mentor, saying, “That’s my sister, you gross ass.”

~~~

The car ride to the movies was silent, but comfortable. The film choice for the night was The Karate Kid Part II. Your main reason for seeing it?; Ralph Macchio.

Max had told you if you didn’t see it that she’d hunt you down and murder you in your sleep. An empty threat from the redhead, but nevertheless, you told that you’d see it, a smile spreading across her face at your words.

Once the movie was over and you voiced that you were starving, Steve drove the two of you to Benny’s, home of the best burgers and fries in Hawkins. As soon as you two walked into the diner, the waitress smiled to herself, already getting her notepad and pen out, writing down yours and Steve’s orders.

She waited on the two of you during your Freshman and Sophomore years of high school before Steve became King Steve. Gloria, the waitress, had always wondered where you were when Steve would come in with Tommy H and Carol. Steve had explained that the two of you weren’t really hanging out anymore, which made her sad, so seeing the both of you at the diner together, made her smile.

The both of you took your normal booth in the middle along the wall of windows. You turned your head to the right, looking out at the cars passing by on the road. Sighing, you felt content before looking back at Steve, whose eyes had been on you the whole time.

Steve was immensely happy that you had decided to go on this date with him. He always felt bad at the treatment you got from him, and always wanted to make it up to you in the best way possible. This was the best thing he thought of. Doing what you’d always used to do; movie and then burgers at Benny’s.

“What?” you asked, reaching up to touch your cheek. “Do I have something on my face?”

Chuckling, Steve looked down at the table before looking around the diner, eyeing Gloria, giving her a nod, a small smile on his face as he did, your eyes watching his movements.

Turning your head to look towards Gloria, your face lit up with happiness, the seasoned waitress walking over with her tray resting on her hand, bringing the two of your food.

“Oh, my goodness,” she smiled. “Look at how grown you two have gotten. I was wondering when you two were gonna come walking back in here together.”

Your face flushed as Steve’s eyes widening the slightest bit at her words. She always rooted for the two of you. After Gloria had set your drinks in front of you, she smiled and said that she’d be right back with a special treat for you and Steve.

Shrugging, you picked up your burger after topping it with your condiments and veggies of choice that were on your plate, you took the first bite, eyes practically rolling into the back of your head. “Oh, my god. I forgot how good these burgers were.”

With furrowed brows, Steve picked up a fry and asked, “When was the last time you were here?” before popping it into his mouth.

“The last time we both were here,” you said, after swallowing your bite, going back in for another.

Steve hummed to himself, taking a bite of his cheeseburger, having topped it with his toppings of choice. 

About half way through your meal, Gloria set your favorite milkshakes in front of you, a big smile spreading on your face after she walked away. Using the spoon that was in the cup, you brought a spoonful of the thick milkshake to your mouth, quietly moaning with an eye roll at the flavors hitting your taste buds.

Pointing to the shake with the spoon, you said with a mouthful, “The best damn shakes in Hawkins.”

“The best damn shakes in all of Indiana!” Steve exclaimed, holding his own spoon out with some of his shake on it.

Scooping another spoonful, you ‘clinked’ your spoons together, laughing at the silliness of it all. You had missed it, though, and so had Steve. Once your laughter had died down and you were finished with your meals, Steve had tried to pay, Gloria insisting that it was on the house, courtesy of Benny himself.

The drive back to your house was quiet again, but comfortable. Steve had his hands on the steering wheel and gear shift, respectfully, while yours was in your lap. All the words you wanted to say were a mess in your head, every thought that was tumbling around in your head caused you to lose track of time… and where you were.

A hand on your shoulder brought you back, your head turning towards Steve. “I’m sorry, what?”

He chuckled, his hand never leaving your shoulder. “I said, we’re here and asked if you were okay.”

“Oh,” you said, sheepishly. “Yeah. Got lost in thought, I guess.”

“What were you thinking about?” 

Shaking your head, you looked down and whispered, “It’s nothing.”

Putting his hand on yours and gaining your attention, Steve said, “Hey. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

All you could do for the next ten seconds was look into those hazel eyes you used to get lost in before you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his, closing your eyes and sighing. Steve sighed and closed his eyes, as well, bringing his hand from yours to cup your cheek.

“I’ve missed you, Stevie,” you whispered. You felt him stiffen just slightly, your opening and head lifting from his for just a moment before he brought your forehead back to his. “I’m sorry. I know you hate being called that.”

This time, it was Steve who lifted his head to look at you, his hand never moving from your cheek. “You’re the only one that gets to call me that, ya’know? Always have been, always will.”

A small smile spread on your lips, Steve’s hand moving slightly back towards your neck, his thumb rubbing at the top of your jawline near your ear. “Don’t hate me for this,” he whispered.

“What are you–” you started, but your words were cut off by Steve’s lips on yours. You were a little shocked, to say the least, but you kissed him back regardless. It wasn’t a hungry kiss. It was more of one that was testing the waters

With lips slowly moving in sync, you couldn’t help but feel happy that his lips were actually on yours. You hated to admit it to yourself, but you’ve always wondered what it would feel like to have Steve’s lips on yours, and now that they are… you couldn’t get enough.

You wanted to keep kissing him until your lips were red, swollen, numb, the whole nine yards. All you wanted was Steve, and now… you think you have him.

When you both pulled away, breathless, you rested your foreheads against each other’s, simultaneously. As you caught your breath, you smiled, a soft chuckle making its way from your lips.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, a smile on his face as well.

Rolling your head to the right a little, you bit your bottom lip before lifting your head and looking at those hazel eyes you’ve always loved. “I just can’t believe that happened.”

Moving his hand back to your cheek, Steve smiled that smile you hadn’t seen in years. “Well, you better believe it… because I plan on doing that more.”

“I’m counting on it, Stevie.”

Steve chuckled while shaking his head, bringing your lips back to his with a smile on both of your faces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! let me know what you thought about! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes: 

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak

Steve Harrington Taglist: @madaboutjoe​

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

Italics wouldn’t let me tag!

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on March 22, 2024

[sheisjoeschateau]

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

ALRIGHT, SECOND PART IS OUT. NOT WAITING. hope u like :)

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

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader || enemies to lovers trope.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE COPIED AND/OR REPOSTED ON HERE OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR PUT INTO ANY AI PROGRAMS. THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MDNI.

An original fanfiction series, written by Misha St. James.

This isn't your first time meeting Steve Harrington.

You know him. And he knows you. Well, maybe. Who knows. You both run in completely different circles in high school.

While there's some very obvious tension amongst the love triangle (Nancy-Steve-Jonathan) you take a second to look over at the group of kids behind King Steve. There's a curly-haired kid wearing a cap, another kid sporting a bandana, and a redheaded girl. They give you sort of awkward waves, which you return with a tight-lipped grin.

"Sorry," Jonathan's suddenly saying. "Uh, you guys, this is umm -"

"Bauman," you interject. "Just...call me Bauman."

Steve is now looking at you, realizing. Recognizing. "Hey," he says. "Wait, aren't you in Click's class?"

You press your lips into a thin line, trying not to be totally off-put by him. And in truth, you weren't really. Steve had seemed less... douchey, since he started dating Nancy. You were grateful for that. No matter how doomed their relationship was, it seemed to help him get rid of his trash friends. God, Tommy H. and Carol and that Nicole girl were just toxic.

"Yeah," you said, reaching out a hand. "Nice to officially meet you."

Steve shook your hand, a bit sheepish. And still distracted with the fact that his girlfriend had shown up with Byers. Why was she with Byers? You felt yourself internally cringing, seeing how oblivious yet aware he was. It actually made you feel bad.

"I'm Dustin!"

You suddenly looked in the direction of a toothy-grinned kid smiling at you, and you couldn't help but grin back. "Hey, Dustin."

Lucas and Max introduced themselves, too. But then, you all heard sound coming from off in the distance. The lab.

So yeah, things took a pretty sharp turn from there. It's all kind of a blur, if you're being honest. Everyone began talking over each other, eventually gathering info as to exactly who you are and why you were here (at least the general just of it). They learned about Murray Bauman, and Steve's face just became more perplexed, the more that Nancy and Jonathan revealed what they had learned...together.

...yikes.

But the kids were also asking you a million questions, very curious about you. Max found you funny, finding you to have more cool-girl energy than Nancy, who just seemed too polished for her to know how to communicate with her.

Eventually, Nancy noticed the power back on at the lab and you all took off in that direction. Steve was arguing a lot with the kid named Dustin. Very brotherly. Low-key motherly. The toll gate wouldn't open, then suddenly it did open, and then next thing you know a car is racing towards you from the lab and it's got Jim Hopper at the steering wheel? He's throwing the door open, demanding all of you to get in.

As you all drive, you end up near the front of the car, squished between Steve and Dustin.

"Bauman."

You look over at Jim, surprised. But he's looking at you in the rearview with all-knowing eyes. "You're Murray's niece."

You nod. "Yeah. Jim Hopper, right?"

Jim reaches back to pat your knee, eyes on the road and still shaken up from whatever the hell they just escaped. "M'sorry, kid. Your uncle's been getting shit from me. I know he sent you. M'really sorry. I'll make it right with him after all this, alright? Promise."

You just nod, knowing there's really no time for any of that right now. Since you got in the car, you haven't even had time to notice how there is a woman (clearly Joyce Byers) in pure distress, along with another kid in tow and the limp body of another child that she's holding. Jonathan is reaching for him, riddled with worry. Is that Will?

Once you all make it back to the Byers residence, it's tense. Really fucking tense. Jonathan is knelt in front of the couch, voicing his regrets out loud as he stares at his brother's limp form. Nancy stands behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. You're on the opposite side of the room, leaned against the wall.

Which is why you notice that behind Hopper, who's yelling into the wall phone, Steve. He looks...devastated. Hurt. Heartbroken.

...fuck, he looks heartbroken.

He walks past you, pinching his nose and sniffing once. He looks like he's really fighting off some emotion, escaping to another room. It makes you think about everything that went down at your uncle's bunker, and how maybe it was funny there...but it isn't here. Not now, seeing that this guy actually has some intense feeling for Nancy Wheeler. Intense love for her. Real love.

...but Nancy doesn't feel that same intense love for him.

...oh god, that's messy.

But all hell is breaking loose before you can linger on that for much longer. Suddenly, you're all devising a plan. It has something to do with dungeons and dragons, and Will being possessed, and getting him in a room that whatever monster is inside of him won't recognize. The you're all deciphering Morse Code, and it's a whirlwind from there.

And then you're all holding weapons, bracing fore an attack...when some young girl walks in. Who you come to learn is the infamous Eleven. Her hair grew back, and she looks ready to join a punk band.

Pretty bitchin' look, you gotta admit.

The kids introduce her to you, and she gives you a shy smile. Then you're all splitting up into groups, and you catch a brief exchange between Nancy and Steve. He's saying something to her about going with Jonathan, and it makes you tense for Nancy. You can't even imagine how she must feel, knowing that he sees it.

And honestly, the way that Steve talks is...so not King Steve. It's uncharacteristically mature. Secure, and assuring. Not that of the teen heartthrob and bad boy you've been going to school with. And when Nancy does go off with Jonathan, you see Harrington's heart shatter into a million pieces with just the look in his eyes.

You feel bad. You suddenly feel really bad.

But also, he had to have seen this coming. Right? Jonathan Byers was a good, decent guy, who'd been there for Nancy all throughout the hell of last year. Steve had come around, finally. But by then, the trauma bond between Byers and Wheeler was irreversible. There's no changing that.

But damn, unrequited love sucks.

You knew was rejection felt like, and you wouldn't wish it on anyone. Not even your worst enemy.

Out of guilt, you make some conversation with Steve. Given it's just the two of you with the kids left at the house, needing to wait things out, you both easily make conversation. It's a bit awkward at first, but oddly it finds flow pretty easily. Steve's still got his charm, although it's a little more grounded than before. It isn't forced, or laced with popular-kid attitude. That's refreshing.

As you both end up listening to the kids like the only two parental figures around, then end up having to fight off that psycho new kid at school named Billy Hargrove (who's actually Max's stepbrother?!) and patch up Steve's very beaten and battered face which somehow still looks pretty, annnnd wind up in a tunnel full of creatures (demo dogs? is that what Dustin called them?), then somehow survive all of that shit... you and Steve become pretty bonded, pretty quickly.

And when the worst of it is seemingly over, you end up helping Eleven get ready for the Snowball -- dropping her off with Hopper. He's grateful for your help, and after making amends with your uncle you two have gotten to know each other well, too. He likes you, appreciating your mature sense of self.

Joyce adores you already, being the kind-natured and loving mama-bear that she is.

And El? Well, she loves you. You're like a cool older sister figure of sorts.

You and Steve run into each other when dropping off the kiddos at the Snowball, making conversation about how crazy everything was. You talk about other things, too. Just mundane things, bouncing off each other well. But when Steve notices Nancy inside, he gets that sad puppy-dog look in his eyes again. Then, Jonathan's coming out of the dance with a camera. He clearly was the designated photographer for the night.

And he clearly has captured Nancy Wheeler's heart.

One night, after Jonathan and Nancy have started going steady and you're all on summer break, you're all over at the Henderson's house watching the kids. The adults are there, too, since Mrs. Henderson is out working overnight. Murray is pouring up drinks for the adults and teens, much to Joyce's disapproval. But he just goes about his business, clinking glasses. Hopper honestly looks like he could really use a fucking drink. Or 5.

You, Steve, Nancy and Jonathan all toast, happily. Chatting. Laughing. Making light of things.

...but that ends up being pretty short-lived.

Before you know it, you're in the kitchen helping clean up while Joyce gets the kids in bed and Hopper is on the couch slurring with your uncle. Steve had offered to help you, but Dustin insisted that he come see something in his room before they all went to bed. Nancy has left with Mike and Max, while Lucas is staying the night.

Welp. Jonathan walks in, drunk, telling you thank you.

It's sloppy, and it would be funny except for the fact that he is talking so fucking loud. He's just thanking you, and then Murray, over and over -- "...for meddling with'm love life because now, I'm dating th'most beautifurrrl girl in Hawkins. N'if'it weren't for y'two...I'd still'b pining o'r h-her."

...annnnd then he’s blabbering on about how you let him and Nancy take the bed. “Well’lmost… ha, w-we ended urp…takin’th…couch. Whischhh…you tol’us you’w’d…toHaLLy tAkE’stead.” Then he’s snickering, drunkenly. “Cuz’you toooootally wanted us to doooo itttt. Schhhhhhayin that — m’not the safe one. That’m — I’m the one’th Nannnncy l-loves. Not…S-Steve…”

You just chuckle nervously, giving him a pat on the shoulder. And you just keep washing the dishes when he gives you a tight hug from behind, stumbling a bit and making you almost drop and break one of Mrs. Henderson's very cute plates.

Right on cue, Steve rounds the corner, having heard it.

All of it.

And now that Steve has gotten wind of the fact you played a huge role — along with Murray — on why Nancy left him, he is totally pissed.

In fact, he’s livid. 

"Steve," you try, but he just holds up a hand, staring daggers at you.

"Save it, Bauman," he grits. "Save. It."

It causes him to have the utmost disdain towards you, border lining hate. It just festers over time, getting worse.

Something about that makes your stomach flip inside out with a horrible, upset feeling. Your guts feel knotted up, and if the reality of things weren't so bleak, you would laugh at the fact that losing Steve Harrington's friendship (let alone trust) would upset you one day, let alone even happen. You feel bad. You really do. But God, as time goes on... his entire attitude about it is insufferable. He isn't letting up any time soon. Not when you both meet up with the kids (because regardless of the strain between you two, you're both the parents now). It feels like two divorced parents, meeting up to share custody of the chitlins.

The only relationship to which Steve is committed, is the one that he shares with Miss Hatred. And you're her bitch.

...guess there's still some King Steve in him after all.

You knew King Steve. He was an ass. So you know what? Suck it, Harrington. Karma’s a bitch.

As time passes, you begin firing back at him - tired of trying to explain yourself, apologize or play nice. Steve wants to fucking play? Alright then. Game on, Harrington.

There's a whole upside down universe threatening to take over still? All good. Let's still brawl, Harrington.

The kids keep bringing you both around each other, and you're also working at a place inside of the same damn mall as Steve is for the summer? AWESOME.

LET'S GET READY TO FUCKIN RUMBLE.

So yeah, you’re totally involved in the whole mall ordeal with the Russians, bonding you to Steve and Robin, along with Dustin and Erica.

But despite that, Steve still resents you. So there is still rivalry between the two of you.  Hot and bothered. 

That said, despite his pure disdain towards you...it doesn't change the fact that you actually do begin to see him for the much better human that he is becoming. King Steve has fallen. No doubt. You see that. The way that he loves and cares the kids, especially Dustin. And the way that Steve reacts whenever Robin comes out to you both? He's an angel. Hell, he even fought the soldiers off of you whenever they decided to make you their torture-chamber play-thing. He definitely got mad at them for that one, but he also got mad at you for not going with Dustin and Erica before all of that went down. You both nearly strangled each other when attempting to hold the door shut, yelling at each other to run. Robin had finally joined you both, but still - neither of you budged.

Steve was a good guy. A nice guy, even. Just not to you, unless the moment called for him to be. Which was fine.

…but he’s still annoying. And apparently, he can hold a fucking grudge like no other. He’s a world class champ at that, come to find out. Gold star.

You're onboarded to help Hopper, Murray and Joyce with shutting the gate. It's a no-brainer. Steve looks a little miffed, seeing how the adults trust you like one of them rather than him. Even the way that Jonathan is so cool around you, and Nancy seems shy around you, it just...irks him.

When you manage to help Joyce close the gate, you witness the death of Hopper. And it kills you, along with your uncle. You ache for Joyce, unable to fathom how you'll have to bring it up to El.

But hey, you all manage to destroy the Mind Flayer. And when Billy is killed in the process, you tend to Max like a true older sister. She and Eleven have both come to look up to you as such, and Steve won't deny the fact that you're a saint with these kids. A real fucking saint. And if he's being honest...he's relieved to have a co-parenting partner.

But that is the extent of his gratitude towards you, which is strictly circumstantial. You make things convenient sometimes.

Hopper dying hits all of you hard. And you do everything that you can to help your uncle not drink himself to death. It's the only reason that you don't regularly visit the Wheelers in California. Your uncle is a wreck. Hopper was the only man who truly felt like a friend to your very lonely (by choice) Uncle Murray.

Steve does single you out to ask how you're doing, knowing that witnessing Hopper's death was tragic. But you just tell him that the real concern is your uncle and Joyce, insisting that you will get by. Steve seems hesitant at first, knowing that you're not fine. He might hate you, but he still cares about a party member who got put through hell.

"I'm alive, Steve. So I need to carry on. For everyone's sakes. I'll be alright."

As time goes on...

You and Steve give Robin very conflicting love advice, when it comes to her crush on Vikki.

"VIKKI LIKES BOOBIES."

"Christ, Steve," you're groaning in the backseat. "Stop being such a damn teenage boy."

"I'm almost 20, Bauman," he scowls at you in the rearview mirror.

You make a face, exaggerating feigned apology. "'Scuuuuuse me."

Man, he could not hate you more. Steve is sure of that. You are the worst. Why are you here. You are just the worst. Every time he looks at you, all he sees is Murray Bauman but as a much hotter 19-year-old girl with way more better comebacks and select timing.

AND NO, THAT IS NOT A COMPLIMENT.

!!!!!!!!

Next thing you know, Chrissy Cunningham has been found dead in a trailer that belongs to Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. Who, according to Dustin, is not only still in high school — he’s also friends with them? Yikes. But Dustin swears that he’s not a murderer.

You choose to believe Dustin. Much to Steve’s chagrin. In his mind, any chance that you get to disagree with him, you will gladly fucking take it. He is really committed to you being his enemy.

And you know what? Fine. You can play. You've been playing.

Eventually, Nancy comes back into the picture.

And honestly? Watching her be all into Steve again? As if she isn't in a relationship with Jonathan still? That pisses you off.

Not because you’re jealous. No, no. Not that.

…yeah no, it’s not that.

Nah, it’s the way this girl just cannot for the life of her figure out what she is feeling. Dear lord, woman. Pick.

Eventually, you comment on this. But not until Eddie Munson is suddenly roped into y’all’s crew and you both strangely hit it off. You share the same taste in music. You both compare concert history, listing off you're favorites and randomly bursting into song. Very scream-o, metal music. Eddie thinks you're the shit, and you make him laugh a lot. He also makes you laugh a lot.

Steve hates that.  He really, really hates that.

But not because he is jealous. No, no. It’s not that.

…yeah, it’s definitely not that.

Nah, it’s the way you make friends with someone he isn't a fan of just to spite him. You know he doesn’t like Eddie. You know he feels replaced by Dustin for him. You’re doing this shit on purpose. He knows it. He just knows it.

Regardless, you both stand by each other throughout the whole Vecna ordeal. And Max?  She loves you. Trusts you. A lot. You also tell her not to give Steve so much shit. So he’ll give you that.

But that’s all he’s gonna give you. And even that has its limits.

Whenever you all find out that Max is cursed, the first person that Steve finds himself looking at is you. Because you're the co-parent. You've gotta help him know what to do. You feel the exact same way.

You both witness her possession in he graveyard. You both help calm the kids down, and each other. Whenever Max writes letters to each of you, she looks at both you and Steve for a long time. A really long time. It's very uncomfortable.

...then she's finally handing you both a letter, and the look she shoots you both afterwards in really unsettling. Like she knows something.

But what the hell is there to know? That you both can't stand each other? NEWSFLASH: EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT. So joke's on them.

...not Max though. She's in trouble. So she's allowed to know whatever the hell...that she...knows...?

You and Steve both profusely disagree with everyone about the idea of Max becoming the bait. In fact, it's the first time that you both are defending each other to everyone else. Whenever Max argues Steve, you tell her to listen.

"Steve has every right to be worried right now. We all do, Max."

She sighs, knowing that you're right.

And whenever Dustin tries to get quippy with you about stuff, Steve shuts him down real fast.

"Hey. Not cool. Bauman's in the right, check yourself."

Dustin also sighs, knowing that he's right.

Because you both know these kids better than anyone. You helped Mike ease up on Hopper, becoming that one older-sister figure he can actually go to and be normal around. Hell, he even hugs you. Mike never hugs anyone, except El. And Lucas? You and Steve are at every single one of his games, like proud parents. Will calls you whenever he wants to paint, knowing that you enjoy art. You've spent many nights painting with him, and even Steve will join with the other kids. They mostly just finger paint and bicker, but it's still lovely in its own sort of way. And then there's Dustin. The golden child, who both of you wanna hug and strangle at the same time. He is forever putting the two of you in close proximity, secretly loving the tension between the two of you. He figures that it's just because you both wanna be the favorite parent, and Dustin is too fixated on why Steve hasn't started dating Robin to even remotely suspect that you two could be an item.

There's a plan in motion now. It's in full swing, all groups peeling off. There's a new species added to the fucked up realm (the newly coined named for them is demo-bats) and you've somehow saved Steve's ass for the 3rd time. This guy seriously cannot catch a break.

But now, Eddie’s suddenly encouraging Steve to go after Nancy again. And damn, that bugs you.  It really motherfuckin’ gets under your skin. Because Eddie doesn’t know the full story about what went down between them. Not even close.

You can't help yourself. You tell Steve this, once Eddie walks up ahead. But of course, Steve is rebuking everything that you are saying.

And then he's telling you that Nancy is different, and -- “actually, things are better.” 

But you scoff at that, incredulously. And you're telling him to "wake up and realize that 1) she’s still with lover-boy Byers, and 2) you shouldn’t pine after someone who chose someone else over you."

You mean to say it kindly. Honestly, you try to.

But Steve doesn’t think so.  And he’s faster. He’s also cruel.

“Maybe that’s why you broke us up, huh?" Steve is firing back at you with all that he's got now. "Because you’re used to that. Being the second choice. Weren’t you Clark’s best friend? Didn’t he drag you along until he ended up picking Becky? Yeah. Thought I didn’t know that, right? Or how you hung out with some of the basketball guys and never once got asked out by any of them? God, it’s so obvious. Also, it’s pathetic. You clearly hate seeing anyone happy. So hey, guess what? You got your wish: successfully ruining someone else’s happiness. Bingo! Congratulations, you won.”

It hurts. It really does. It fucking hurts.

Still, you do try to reason with him. It’s a little harsh, you’ll admit it. You’re not exactly speaking to him sweetly. But you try.

“All my personal love life issues aside —" you start, bringing your voice down and speaking as level as possible. "...which honestly, I’ve never even had something worth labeling as love — Steve, YOU still deserve to —”

“To suffer,” he cuts you off. “Yeah. I know. And the fact you’ve not had love? That just further proves my point. You admit it and yet you’re still out to get me. Because you’re fucking miserable.”

Alright, you’ve had it.

“I’m miserable?” you ask, ready to fire back. “Steve. You’re the one letting your ex-girlfriend — who didn’t even properly dump you — toy with your brain again into actually thinking she’s gonna pick you this time. She doesn’t deserve that. And you certainly don’t deserve —”

“You deserve nothing.” Steve is seething. Then hissing at you, “You’re bullshit, Bauman. You and your whack job Uncle. You’re both bullshit.”

So you stop. You let it go.

You let Steve Harrington hate you and suffer his own misfortunes. And you pretend that what he said didn’t just shatter your soul into a million tiny pieces.  You nod at him, swallowing hard.

“My uncle is twice the man you’ll ever be. King Steve.”  

It’s a pathetic last attempt. And your voice feels small, tight. But standing up for your uncle is better than yourself at this point. You walk off, away from him.

And Steve doesn’t tell you to stop. He doesn’t tell you not to walk away. He lets you.

So he doesn’t see you cry alone inside of the upside down version of the Wheelers’ bathroom.  He doesn’t see your heart break in two, and he doesn’t see you bite back the sobs sinking your teeth into your palms.

[superblysubpar]

steve harrington x you

1,184 words

warnings: overall, this is, I guess, a fluffy moment with Steve, but there is some angst - slight (like slight allusions) "mentions" of mental health things like depression, feeling a little lost/alone, etc | minor alcohol mention/use | your eddie's best friend in this

A/N: I actually have no idea what this is? It just poured out of me. I blame re-watching Wednesday while writing today. but also, I have thoughts and ideas for this to continue and I'd love to hear what you think/if you'd like more of these two. Anyways, thanks for reading 💛

a blurb for the "Trick or Treat, Freak?" event - don't forget to vote for tomorrow's fic at the bottom of this blurb

The sliding glass door dulls the noise of the party inside, long vertical blinds sway behind the glass, glimpses of red solo cups, heels pressed close to sneakers and intertwined hands on their way to up or down staircases and around dark corners illuminated by flashes of neon.

Your shoulders relax in a deep sigh as you take a step back from the door, breath clouding up in front of you from the brisk autumn air. The beer in your cup tips up to your lips, lukewarm and super shitty as it flows over your tongue, but it’s something.

Something to sip on while you wait for your best friend to finish selling whatever it is he needs to sell to make tonight worth it. Something for your hands to fiddle with as you take a step down the nice porch stairs, dark stained wood clunking beneath your sneakers as you go.

The pool belonging to whoever’s party this is, is dark, water still, its surface glass and reflecting the trees and stars above it perfectly. Standing on its edge, something about it calls you to jump in, to disrupt the calm. It makes you miss Summer despite hating the season. It makes you wonder if you screamed loud enough under the water, would someone still hear you?

You’re kneeling down, fingers about to glide across the water when a voice says, “Tommy H peed in that like,” a raspberry is blown between lips after the words from your left before they continue, “Two hours ago? So you’re probably fine, but…”

Steve Harrington watches your fingers hesitate, then return to your side as you frown at the water.

“Good choice,” he finishes, then flips over another card on the lounger he’s straddling with a pout of his lips. “Damn.”

“Losing?” You question, curiosity getting the better of you as you place one foot in front of the other on the edge of the pool, like your own little tightrope, daring the universe to do what it pleases. Ending up in a pool with Tommy H’s piss seems like something the fates would think was funny and fair when it came to your life at this point.

You’re not one to talk to Steve Harrington, The Hair, King Steve, or any of the other ludicrous names the town of Hawkins had granted him, but it’s also not like Steve, to be outside, alone, at a raging party such as this one.

“Always,” Steve sighs. He runs a hand through fairly unstyled hair and looks up at you. Moonlight illuminates a face full of freckles and gold green eyes that sparkle a little when their gaze meets yours. “Ever feel like that? Like, really, truly, you are never winning? At anything?”

Your chest hurts at the tone of his question, at how un-joking he is. Steve Harrington truly feels like he’s always losing, and someone like you can’t fathom such a thing.

“Always,” you repeat back to him, your admittance whispered and carried with a larger puff of your breath into the air for a mere moment, then gone.

Neither of you push the subject further, and eventually both of your gazes drop. The shared tortured feeling just sits between you two, a chasm neither care to inch closer to in order to help the other cross it.

Steve flips over a Queen of Hearts and glances back up at you. You’re teetering on the edge of the pool, red solo cup being nursed, cradled to your chest as you pout at the house. One that seems to only be getting rowdier, so he asks, “Didn’t you hear? There’s a party happening inside.”

Your laugh echoes in the night, it disappears into the trees as you speak to the star filled and cloudless sky.

“ ‘Fraid I’m not much of a party gal these days.”

Which, Steve understands. He never really pegged you for one anyways. He doesn’t know you, not really. He’s just seen you around, with Eddie. You seem to offer a certain sarcastic rain cloud vibe to balance out his theatrical and loud personality. Occasionally you’ve chatted with Robin at Family Video longer than it took to grab your rental and he’s learned a few things then, he guesses. You hate math, and the color blue, and brass instruments like Robin’s trumpet - but you love your cello. You’re not too fond of frogs for some reason and you doodle birds when you’re bored. He knows you prefer m&m’s with your popcorn and a gory slasher flick, but that you also rented Pretty In Pink four times.

“Me either,” Steve offers and you grin and he winces, realizing his mistake.

“Well, you know what they say,” you tilt your head and knock your cup to your cheek, hiding part of your smile he thinks is really pretty and wishes you’d show it off more. “Can take the gal out of the party, but never the party out the gal.”

Steve groans around a pity laugh, and then he shakes his head, fingers fiddling with the Queen of Hearts. “Speaking of gals and parties, you see Robin in there?”

“Yeah, like,” you blow your breath out as you finally reach the bottom of the lounger he’s on. “An hour ago? Leaving.”

“What?” Steve looks up at you, incredulous.

“I take it you’ve been waiting here for her?”

“Son of…” Steve curses under his breath and then points at you, and you can tell he’s not that mad actually, not really. “You’re my witness, alright? She told me I couldn’t leave two hours ago, because I was her ride. And what does she do? Leaves! Without telling me! Typical!”

He starts to pack up the cards, patting his pockets as he stands with a groan. He holds his arms to his chest and spins his torso, stretching stiff joints from being bent like that for so long. Now that he was standing you can see that his hair and un-party attitude aren’t the only abnormal things about him tonight.

Steve Harrington is wearing a bright yellow sweater.

Somehow, the color seems even brighter against his tan skin. He was a golden boy down to the color of his shirt, and it made you miss the warmth of the sun that much more when he covers it up with a gray Member’s Only jacket.

Your gaze wanders to the pool again when his zipper closes over the color, a longing sort of look on your face that Steve watches as he starts towards the gate of the yard. When you still haven’t followed, he calls your name.

Steve Harrington smiles at you shyly, like he’s a little nervous, like he’s trying to figure you out just as much as you are him. He nods his head to the gate behind him and asks:

“Well, you coming or not?”

Your eyebrows raise in shock.

“Wha…what? Where?”

Steve looks at the house that’s practically vibrating now and then back at you. His shoulders lift and fall as he spins car keys on his pointer finger.

“Does it matter?”

I decided that for this one, I'll share a little snippet from some wips that may or may not have already been hinted at in this event. Have fuuunnn

*voting will close at 10am CST tomorrow, 10/10

*as a reminder the results of this poll will be combined for the results of the same poll placed on the other fic posted today - so go vote twice if you'd like!

[samgelina-jolie]

We fall in love with three people in our lifetime, each one for a different reason...

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Before You Go

Warning: Sad, very angsty. Past Stommy.

Steve's bottom lip quivered as he started to pull out the box that he had stuffed in his closet a couple of years ago. He hadn't thought about it until now. He tore off the lid and started pulling things out. The first thing he pulled out were drawings he and Tommy had done when they were kids. There was a dragon and a figure that didn't really look like Tommy, but it was Tommy who stood in front of the dragon with a flaming sword. Steve stood behind him with his own sword.

"I'll always protect you, Stevie-boy," Tommy had said.

"Even in your own messed up way, you always kept trying," Steve said and cried. "I'm sorry, Tommy, I'm so sorry."

He pulled out a picture of him and Tommy that Tommy's mom had taken of them. Branches held out like swords and masks over their faces like they were pirates. They were supposed to be fighting each other but they couldn't stop giggling. Steve clutched the picture frame to his chest as he bent over, sobbing. He straightened up and held the container closer as he pulled out more stuff. There were clothes in here that Tommy had left behind. He held one of his shirts to his face and he could almost imagine that it still smelled like Tommy. He pulled out the bear that Tommy had won for him at a fair. The bear that he had named after Tommy. Steve held Thomas to his chest and took a drink from the bottle he had dragged up here with him. Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening startled him.

"Steve! We're here to party! Well, not party because you know how I feel about parties but we're here to fuck shit up!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Eloquent as always, Munson," Robin told him. "We're just here to watch movies."

Steve cursed. He had forgotten that they had agreed to hang out a few days ago. He stood up quickly and nearly fell over. Shit, maybe he had drunk more than he had thought. Still clutching his bear, he stumbled downstairs to find them lounging in the living room. He quickly wiped his face and grinned at them.

"HEY!" he said loudly.

"Are you drunk? What's with the bear, Steve?" Robin asked.

"What bear?" he asked.

"Well, that one that you're holding, man," Eddie said and Steve looked sadly down at the bear. "Jesus, man, who died?"

Steve burst into tears and collapsed on the floor, unable to hold it in. It wasn't real. This couldn't be real. Suddenly, Eddie and Robin were by his side.

"Who died, Steve?" Robin asked softly.

"Tommy," he whimpered. "Car accident. His mom called."

"Oh, Steve, I'm sorry. I know he was your friend," Robin said sympathetically.

"He wasn't always an asshole. He wasn't always so miserable. It was my fault. All my fault, I turned him into that. If I just kept it the way it was going, maybe it would have worked itself out. Maybe I wouldn't have gotten with Nancy and Barb wouldn't have died. . . all because I couldn't handle being the other man," Steve sniffled.

"What?!" Eddie and Robin exclaimed.

"I thought maybe Tommy was just the exception but that's not the case. I definitely like. . . like a lot of people. You would have liked Tommy before. . . before I broke his heart. We were in love, you know. I was in love with him. He was the first friend that I ever made, who approached me, and who wasn't intimated by my father. He liked me and it wasn't because of my dad. He wasn't using me like the other 'friends'. We were eight years old, and we were quick to become best friends. As time went by, things began to change. We were each other's first kiss, although we were said it was just for practice. Who were we kidding? When we got older, we started doing other things to help get each other off and everything we did, we did with our clothes on. Then the clothes came off and suddenly, we weren't just each other's first kiss," Steve said.

"You lost your virginities to each other?" Robin asked. "That's why you never say when it comes up."

"I didn't want to out Tommy. Although, I guess I'm outing him now. Suppose it doesn't really matter," Steve muttered. "We finally decided to stop fooling ourselves and we admitted to having sex with each other, that we were attracted to each other. We weren't ready for anything else yet, so we weren't exclusive. We were just best friends who fuck each other. So, we tried to see other people. I slept with other people, but it didn't seem like Tommy was having any luck until Carol came along. Carol became his girlfriend, and I hated her for it," Steve said.

"I thought Tommy and Carol were having sex since seventh grade," Eddie said and Robin nudged him.

"That's just a rumor. Carol didn't join our little group until high school," Steve rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I was jealous of her because I wanted to be her. I wanted to be Tommy's boyfriend. Tommy wanted to have his cake and eat it too. We were still sleeping with each other even then. . . "

Steve sighed as he collapsed back onto the bed as Tommy threw the sheets over them and pulled Steve into his arms. Steve sighed as Tommy ran his fingers down his back.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you," Tommy said.

Steve froze. This was the first time that they either one of them had said even when they were just friends.

"You love me?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," he replied.

"I love you too," Steve said.

He climbed top of Tommy, straddling his naked waist, and kissed him. He felt Tommy grin against his lips. Tommy flipped him over onto his back and deepened the kiss while thrusting his hips against Steve’s. He pulled back from Steve.

"Going for round two, huh? I'm going to show you just how much I love you, Stevie-boy," Tommy said and kissed him.

This time, it was Steve who broke the kiss and gazed at him. He cupped Tommy's face and smiled when Tommy kissed his palm.

"Does this mean that I'm your boyfriend?" Steve asked.

"Hell yeah," Tommy smirked.

"Do you really want to show me how much you love me?" Steve asked, and Tommy nodded. "Break up with Carol."

Tommy froze for a moment before scowling and moving away from Steve, climbing off of him.

"Why do you have to ruin things, man?" Tommy asked.

"Ruin things? I'm asking you to break things off with Carol so we're not cheating!" Steve exclaimed.

"It's not cheating, man. What Carol and I have isn't real," Tommy said. "I don't like women like you like women."

"Well, does she know that?" Steve asked. "I mean, not about you liking men. You don't have to tell anyone that if you're not ready. Does she know that you don't have feelings for her?"

"Man, why do you care about what Carol thinks? I thought you hated her," Tommy said.

"I do, but that doesn't mean that she deserves to be used!" Steve yelled.

Tommy scowled at him and got up, pulling on his boxers. Steve did the same.

"I'm not - that's not what I'm doing!" Tommy yelled.

"Oh yeah! What are you thinking about when you fuck her?" Steve asked.

"You, it's always you!" Tommy asked.

"Don't you think Carol deserves someone to think about her while they fuck her? While they hold her and kiss her? Carol deserves better than to be cheated on, and despite the fact that you don't have feelings for her, it's still cheating!" Steve yelled.

"You know I can't let my dad find out about us! About me!" Tommy exclaimed.

"I know that! It doesn't mean that you still can't hide. You don't have to tell anyone if you don't want to, but you're using Carol to keep your secret, and she doesn't know. You're wasting her time. She deserves better than this. I stopped sleeping with other people when I realized that I had feelings for you," Steve said. "Why can't you do the same?"

"It's not real," Tommy muttered.

"Then this isn't real either!" Steve yelled.

"You don't mean that!" Tommy said.

"This is killing me, Tommy. I've watched my dad cheat on my mom time and time again. I saw how much it hurt her. I can't risk doing that with Carol," Steve muttered.

"I don't want to hurt you," Tommy frowned.

"Then break up with Carol," Steve said.

"I can't," Tommy said.

"Then I guess I have to do the right thing here. I'm breaking up with you, Tommy," Steve said.

"Steve. . .I don't want to lose you," Tommy said, his eyes filled with tears.

"We can still be friends," Steve said, and Tommy looked like he had been slapped.

Tommy glared at him before getting dressed and storming out of the house. The slamming of the doors caused Steve to flinch.

". . .and after that, it was different between us. He was different. . .angrier. And then Nancy came into my life, and I fell hard for her. Suddenly, Tommy didn't fit into my life anymore, and it was Tommy who was hating Nancy. It was me who had to walk away from Tommy. I never got to fix things with him, and I thought about it, but it's never going to happen. Not that I wanted to get back together with him. I wanted my best friend back. The one I used to create forts with in the living room and tell everything to. I wanted him to know you, Robin, and to know Eddie. . . To know the kids. I wanted him to know that even though it didn't work out with him, I wanted the old Tommy back in my life. I want to tell him about this guy I like. I can't do it, I can't fix it," Steve sobbed.

"Oh, Steve," Robin said with tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't tell you, Robbie," Steve sighed. "He got me this bear, you know. At a fair. I named him Thomas."

"It's okay, I get it," Robin said, running her hand through his hair.

"Steve, I think you might need some water. I'll go get you some," Eddie said.

Suddenly, Steve yelled and threw himself into Eddie's arms.

"Please don't go," Steve said.

"I'll get the water," Robin said. "You get our Steve to the couch."

Eddie ran his hand through Steve’s hair for a moment before picking him up in his arms.

"Oooh, strong and pretty," Steve giggled and poked his nose.

"Yeah, you're definitely drunk," Eddie smiled.

He carried Steve to the couch and put him on the couch, but it was hard to do with the way Steve was clinging to him. Eddie sighed before sitting down on the couch with Steve in his arms. Steve burried his face into Eddie's chest as Eddie rubbed his back.

"I'm sorry about Hagan, sweetheart," Eddie said. "I can't imagine how hard this must be."

"It's so. . .so hard. Sometimes, I can still see him. . .like he's burned into my retinas. . . and I can still see him walking around here," Steve said, his voice cracking. "I'm crazy."

"You're grieving," Eddie said softly.

Robin came back with a bottle of water and handed it to Steve. He handed the bear to Robin as she sat down. Steve sat up in Eddie's lab and started drinking the water.

"Robin? We're always going to be best friends, right?" Steve asked.

"We're more than best friends, dingus," she said affectionately. "We're platonic soulmates, and there's nothing on earth that can break that."

Steve downed the whole bottle of water before tossing it onto the coffee table. He wrapped his arms around Eddie's neck.

"Eddie. . .do you promise to always be a part of my life no matter what?" Steve asked as he raised his pinky to him. "Pinky promise?"

Eddie grinned. Keeping one hand on Steve’s lower back, he raised his other hand and hooked his pinky with Steve’s.

"I promise, darlin," Eddie said.

Steve leaned down and kissed his own hand, his pinky locked with his. Eddie smiled softly and kissed his own hand as well. Steve let go, giggling.

"The guy I was talking about was you," Steve said. "I like you."

"I like you too," Eddie replied.

"Do you - do you think that we can wait until I'm a little more sober to have our first kiss?" Steve asked.

"I think that's a good idea, sweetheart," Eddie said.

Steve sighed and leaned his forehead against Eddie's.

"I don't think I can get through this without you guys," Steve sighed.

Robin got on her knees and leaned over to hug them both.

"We're here, Steve," Robin said and squeezed him tightly as he started crying again.

Eight year old Steve sighed as he kicked his feet in the water of his pool as Tommy sat beside him.

"Tommy?"

"Yeah?"

"We've been hanging out a lot. Does this mean we're best friends now?" Steve asked.

"Heck yeah!"

"How long do you want to be my best friend for?" Steve asked.

"Forever, Stevie-boy, forever."

[worth-the-chaos]

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

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

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

Word Count: 6.3k

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

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Next Part

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that so, y/n?” She turned to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…yeah?”

“Steve.”

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

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

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

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

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

He almost had lost you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up, Harrington.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

“Bullshit. Spill.”

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

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

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

“Are you gonna dress up?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who invited you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Was it a guy?”

“No!”

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

Gee. Great.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You aren’t in costume.”

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby, come on—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, y/n. What just happened?”

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

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

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

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

“Episodes?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure? He seems pretty mad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

“Steve, stop the car.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

[milkmily]

Friends (rewrite)

Steve Harrington x Plus Size! Fem! Reader

TW: Menton of body shame, insecurities, eating disorder

SUM. You and Steve were close friends, but a confession and humiliation caused your friendship to freeze. You weren't sure if you two were friends Still. Maybe Steve could fix it or maybe ruin things again, who knows?

->Next Chp.(soon)

“I’m going on a date with Nancy Wheeler! Can you believe that? Nancy Wheeler as my date.”

As a friend, you should feel happy for your best friend to find a date. You should cheer for them and give them advice, that's how a friend should feel. But as you heard those words slip out of Steve’s mouth, you couldn’t feel that. So, pretending was the best option there should be. You pressed a smile on your face and cheered for him, saying that not to mess up the date, but fuck how you wanted that date to mess up so bad. But friends shouldn’t feel this way, they shouldn’t feel this at all. What sucked even more was that you were friends with a man you had fallen in love with. And you fell in love with an asshole.

Here he is bragging about how he will be dating Nancy Wheeler as if he didn't just humiliate you in front of his asshole friends a month ago. He is speaking to you as if he didn’t ruin your life!

A month ago, you asked Steve if you two could meet somewhere private, you wanted to tell Steve how you felt, and how you fell in love with him throughout the years of knowing each other. As you waited for Steve, you nervously played with your shirt.

He soon came and asked what was wrong. “Steve, I have something to tell you. I hope this doesn't ruin our friendship.” You say, your hands sweating from how nervous you were.

“What's up? Everything okay?” He asked in a worried tone, eyebrows arching as he got closer to you to hear you better. “Steve, I Have feelings for you, I like you.” You say as you wait for what he had to say. His eyes shined as he heard you say those words and a smile appeared on his lips, you couldn't Help but smile back as your heart skips fast, as if you had just run a marathon. But soon that smile dropped as you heard Steve's friend laugh in the back. You turn and your eyes go wide. Embarrassment was the first thing you felt as you saw his friends walk up to you two.

“Wow! [Last] confessing her feelings! How cute!” Tommy laughs as Carol giggles in the back. “You really think someone will like you? Come on! Have you seen yourself! Fuck, you're H U G E!” Carol's laugh was now louder as Tommy laughed with her as well. You look at Steve, in hopes he'd defend you. He's known you way more than he has known Tommy and Carol, he will defend you, right?

“Now Steve! Don't leave poor [Name] waiting! So, you like her back or nah?” Tommy wraps an arm around Carol. Carol looks at you and snickers as her eyes move up and down your body. Fuck, how much you wanted to burry yourself and die at that moment.

“Of course I don't, who do you think I am? I have standards.”

Shame.

That's all you felt as you heard him say those words and his friends laugh at you. Tommy goes up to Steve and pats his back as if congratulating him. “There you go man! See, men like us have standards. What, do you think you fit them? Come on! You're just like a pig!” Tommy laughs.

“I will give you some advice from girl to girl.” Carol says as she looks at you. “Just forget about falling in love, no one will ever even like you.” And they left you there with your thoughts and tears.

After that, you stopped talking to Steve. Only talk if it was about classes or if you had the answers for the most recent homework. That was all. You hated Steve at first, a burning hatred that made you want to punch him In the face for humiliating you, but then it switched to missing him. Missing when he'd take you out to eat with him at some restaurant because he had nothing to do, skip class, hang out at his place because his house felt cold since his parents were basically Never home.

You tried to stop eating, which wasn't good, but you would come back to eating. Food being your only comfort you had. Your closet changed from pretty tops and dresses to almost it being filled with long cardigans. You look pretty on dressed and you knew that, your curves causing the dress just to fit perfectly on your body, but Hawkins was a small place and you'd always find Steve and his two asshole friends With him. So, you'd hide your body with cardigans.

A project was soon assigned in class, students Could pick their partners. You didn't want to stand up and ask for a partner, it was too embarrassing. Soon you Hear someone walk up to your desk and you look up, “Hey, want to pair up?” Jonathan Byers.

“Yeah.”

And after that, you and Jonathan became close, super close. You would go to his house for the projects for Only an hour, but soon an hour would turn into two, then three, then maybe a day. You got close with Joyce as you'd basically tell her all your girl problems. From clothes to dresses, to boy problems. And those boy problems were Steve. You explained everything to her, said how you felt and how much shame and humiliation You had felt that day.

“Don't listen to them. Jesus, they seriously have no respect!” she yells as she cups your face. “You are a beautiful, wonderful, and smart girl. If That boy doesn't love you, I am sure there are other boys who would fall in love or are in love with you sweetie.” She says as she brushes your hair behind your ear as you sobbed. “You just need that confidence back. As long as you are confident in yourself, God's, you will feel way better. Trust me.” She says and kisses your forehead. “Always, and I mean, always love yourself first. You are your first priority. You always.”

And her words never left you. You started to eat the foods you like again, wear those pretty dresses you loved to wear and your cute tops with those pretty skirts that made you feel pretty. And Joyce was right, there were some boys who liked You. You'd get compliments from the beautiful outfits you had on or your hair that was nicely made. And Well, it had caught Steve's attention.

But no move was made. You had no plans to make any moves, after all, why should you?

But as you layed in bed all you thought of, “are we even friends?” and that question ate at you. You did want to talk to him. You really did. You missed him, you missed your hang outs and eat outs. You missed his stupid jokes that were so bad it made you laugh at the cringe they were. How you missed it when he'd lay his head on your lap as you played with his hair and his excuse was “my head hurts.” As he lays His head on your lap. How you missed it when he'd just be with you.

But he changed, he's changed a lot. Would you two even be friends Still?

After Will and Barbra had gone missing, you helped as much As you could with Nancy and Jonathan. Putting up missing posters, finding clues, helping Nancy as she felt like people were calling her crazy and helping Joyce and Jonathan.

Everything was messy for you, but you wanted To help them. Even if it took some hours of sleep away from you.

As you three walk, you notice Nancy stop and you give her a puzzled look. “Everything okay Nancy?” You asked. You looked at what she was staring at and your eyes went wide. The movie theater board was covered with red spray paint that had said in big words that had Nancy's name in it. You could hear some giggles and laughs. It catches Nancy's attention and you go to follow her.

Your eyes go wide as you see Steve and his friends. Fuck. You haven't seen him in a while, a good while. You nervously gulp and your eyes go even wider as you see Nancy slap Steve across the face. Things start to get heated soon and you walk up to Nancy. “Nancy just ignored him, let's go, come on. You already know how he is-”

“Oh! And [Name] showed up! Even better!” Steve yells as his friends laugh in the back. You don't Look at Steve and try to pull Nancy away but Steve grabs your arm. “Come on [Name], why don't we catch up and you explain to me what Nancy the Slut Has been doing.” He glares at you. “Leave me alone Steve.”

“What! I Thought we were friends [Last]! What? Just because I rejected your fat ass all of a sudden we aren't friends!” He yelled as he had a tight hold on your arm, his nails digging into your skin. “Fuck off!” You yelled as you slapped him across the face. “We aren't friends Harrington! I hate you!” you yell and hear Jonathan run up to Nancy.

You yank your arm off of Steve. Steve was shocked. Maybe he was shocked over the slap, the words you said or the fact you told him you hated him. That's when Jonathan comes in and grabs your shoulder. “Come on [Name] lets leave-”

“Oh! So you replaced me with a pervert! Hey! Did you even know the photos this pervert takes!” Steve yells and you ignore him as you walk away but Jonathan has enough and throws a punch at Steve. You and Nancy yell for him to stop and get away from him but he continues to fight, now on the floor throwing punches at each other.

Soon the sirens of the cops were headed. You and Nancy try to pull Jonathan away from Steve and the cops stop you all.

Shit.

You, Nancy, And Jonathan were going to grab this damn creator one way or another.

Everything was set and planned. You were holding a box cutter to the palm Of your hand. You look at Nancy as you nod and she nods back to you. She starts to count down and Jonathan looks worried. “You two doing Have to do this you kn-” bit before he could finish Nancy yells, “three!” And you press the cutter to your clam and slash. You squeeze your arm as blood drops down to the carpet. You groan at the pain and at the sight of the blood. You gulp and see Jonathan handing you some bandages. You wrap your arm with it and look over at Nancy and Jonathan.

They were looking at each other from time to time as Jonathan Bandaged up Nancy's hand. In All honesty you felt like the third wheel at the moment. It went quiet as they looked at each Other and you cringe, feeling as if you are interrupting something. Jonathan opens his mouth and Says Nancy's name, it looked like he was about to either confess or kiss her. You jump as you hear the door knocking. “Jonathan! Man, can we talk?” You look at Nancy and at Jonathan. You know that voice.

“It's me Steve, I just want to talk!” Steve?! Your eyes go Wide and look at Nancy. “Just go where Jonathan is. I will handle it.” She says and you stand next to Jonathan. You hear them talk and suddenly the door is kicked open. And he stops mid way as he notices the mess of the house, the bats With nails in it, the blood and bandages On everyone's hand except Steve's. “What the fuck happened!?” He yells as he goes up to you to grab your hand. You yank it away and say, “You need to leave Steve.”

“What? Why?!” He yells and continues to ask question after question. You hear some clicking sounds. That's when Nancy pointed her loaded gun at Steve, who froze. “You have five seconds to leave.”

And the light start To flash, causing you to grab the nailed bat and Jonathan as well. “Nancy, it's here!!” You yell. “What is here?!” Steve yells and Jonathan yells back “I don't know!” you all group into a circle, your backs touching. You all try to concentrate but Steve just kept asking questions and freaking out, it honestly made you want to slap him Again. “Steve, will you please shut up!”

“What?! No, are you crazy! You need to tell me what the hell-”

And a loud breaking sound is heard, causing All of you to stay quiet. Your eyes slowly move at the sound and there it was, the Demogorgon. You hear Nancy shoot Her gun at it as Jonathan grabs her wrist and pulls her into a room. You do the same to Steve and pull him into Will’s room. The door slammed shut and everyone was panting. You let go of his wrist and look at Steve. He was looking back at you, freaking out. He started again. “Jesus! W-What the hell was that?!”

“Shut up!” All three of you yell at Steve, causing him to finally shut his mouth. Nancy gets ready as she points the gun to the door, a tight grip on it as she is ready to shoot at any moment. Jonathan had his lighter ready as well and you and a tight hold on the bat, ignoring the pain on the palm of your hand. All that was heard was the creature moving and making sounds. The trap doesn't Go off, making you bite the inside of your mouth. Soon, the light stops flicking.

You get out a shaky Breath as Jonathan slowly opens the door and all of you walk out slowly to make sure if it's still out there. And Steve starts again and rambles things you can't even hear, being concentrated with your bat at hand. You see Steve run to the phone and try to press the number but Nancy takes the phone away and says, “You will make it come back! So you need to leave NOW!” Nancy yells.

Without a thought Steve runs out of the door. As he leaves the lights start to flicker, causing You to hold tightly to the bat once again. “Come out you piece of shit…” You mumbled As the lights flash and suddenly the lights go off.

That's when you hear Nancy scream as Jonathan is thrown down to the floor by the Demogorgon. You turn immediately and go to hit it from the back to get it off Jonathan. It did But now it was your turn to struggle. It growls at you and is about to push you down to the floor but Nancy shoots at the Demogorgon. You swing at it once more, getting A hit but you are thrown to the wall, causing you to scream from the pain. You stand up the best you can and try to grab your bat but it is suddenly grabbed by someone. You look up to see Steve. Steve attacks the Demogorgon with the bat. He suddenly throws the bat up as it flips and he grabs it, doing one more swing at it in the trap.

You grin as you see him and yell, “It's in the trap! Now!” Jonathan throws the lighter and it screams as it starts to burn Away. You grab Steve's arm as you pull him away from the fire. You all watched it burn, scream it's last cry and everything is quiet except for everyone's pants. You look at Steve who was already looking back at you.

Steve looks at you as he sees you. Something in him made his cheeks Get warm as he saw you. You looked strong, brave. It causes his heart to beat fast as he looks at you. As you turn to look at him he gulps and suddenly notices a cut to your cheek. He rubs his thumb on the blood and says, “I don't really want it coming back if it's blood it's looking for…” He says.

“I'm pretty Sure the piece of shit is dead.” You grin. Steve feels his heart beat at Your words and he looks away. “Yeah…” he says. That's when the Christmas lights flicker but only to three words. M o m

“Mom…?” Jonathan says out loud and you all follow the lights that flicker outside but it soon stops. The silence Is broken by Steve, “Can someone explain now?”

You look at him and say, “It's a long story.”

It's Christmas Eve, everything has gone back to normal after the whole incident. Will was back, safe And sound. El, a girl, had saved him. She saved Hawkins.

You decide to spend Christmas with the Byers, it being your first and last Christmas you get to ever spend with them. You were moving to California in a month because your father was moving due to his work. Your family let you spend Christmas with the Byers. You were in the car with Jonathan going to the Wheelers home to pick up Will.

Jonathan parks the car and you get off either him. A knock on the door and Mrs. Wheeler opens the door. “Oh my! [Name]!” she smiles and lets you and Jonathan in. “Here have some cookies while you two wait.” She smiled and yelled for Will. You nod and happily take the cookies.

“Calm down now girl, the cookies aren't going anywhere.”

“Sounds like your the one who wants them the most Mr. Wheeler.” You say while smiling, causing Mrs. Wheeler laughed. Mr. Wheeler rolls his eyes as she goes back to watching the TV. You chuckled and went somewhere more quiet and alone In the house. Jonathan excuses himself as he goes away and you nod. You waited and waited and sigh as you looked at the clock on the wall.

What the hell is taking him so long? My feet hurt. you thought as you took a bite of your last cookie. “Hey [Name].” You turn and see Steven. “Oh, hey.” You smiled. He walks closer to you and nervously rubs the back of his neck. He was holding a box in his other hand.

“I heard you were leaving Hawkins.” Steve says as he holds on to a box wrapped in Christmas decoration. “Yes, moving to California.” You Say as you fidget with your warm cardigan.

“Will you ever come back to visit?” Steve asked. The way he asked and looked made Him look like a sad puppy with his ears down. “I don't know, we are really only moving there because of my dad's work.” You say and look down at your shoes. “I'll see if I can come back though, to visit and catch up.”

“Can We call? Or send letters?” Steve asked. You look up at him and nod. “Yeah, we can do that.” You smiled at him and Steve smiled back at you. He was nervous. “Well, I have something for you.” He Says as he hands you the box. “Oh shit, sorry Steve I didn't bring you anything.” You hold the Box and Steve shakes his head. “It's alright and in all honesty I don't deserve any gifts from you.” He says and he sighs. “I also want to apologize. I really am sorry for what I said and how I embarrassed you.” He says and you cringe at the memory.

“I said those dumb things because I was stupid. I thought if I just went along with it, Tommy and the rest would just shut up.” He says and gives you an apologetic look. “I'm sorry, I really am.” That's all you wanted to hear from him months ago, those words. That's all you needed.

“Okay.” You smiled. “So is that a I forgive you or…?” You chuckled and nodded. “Yes, it is.” He lets Out a sigh of relief and nods. “Okay, okay.” You giggled and hugged Him. Steve froze but slowly hugged you back. “Please call me, send me letters, send a pigeon, even, anything. Just don't lose contact with me.” You laugh and pull away from the hug. “I will, I will even send you a pigeon.” You say and Steve chuckles.

You look at him and see how beat up he looks. “Honestly you would have had Another bruise On the precious face of yours because you wouldn't shut up at the Byers.” You giggled And Steve sighs. “That's one way of saying thank you and Merry Christmas.” You shake your head and laugh. “Thank you, really.” You say and you don't think at all. You get closer to him and place a kiss on his cheek. “Merry Christmas.”

Steve froze and he simply smiled and nervously laughed, his cheeks turning red. “Um, yeah, Merry Christmas To you as well.” You hear your name get called. “Have to go, take care Harrington.”

“You too [Last].”

You run out of the house as you get in the car. You look at Jonathan and see the gift. “Oh from who?”

“Nancy.” He says and Will asks if he could open the box. He opens it and Jonathan is shocked by the Camera, a brand new one. And a good one. “Can I open yours [Name].” You shrug and hand him the box as well.

He opens it and he Chuckles. He holds out a polaroid Picture, an old one. “You look funny here. And is that Steve?” He asks as he points. Your eyes go wide as you look at the picture. You grab it and smile. “Oh my god, I forgot about This.”

“So, are you and Steve on good terms?”

You look at the Picture and nod. “Yeah, we Are.” You say. “Oh shit!” Will says.

“Hey watch your mouth!” You yell. “It's not like you say It all the time.” You roll Your eyes. “What is it anyways?”

“You went to the snowball dance with Steve Harrington! No way!” Will yells and you snatch the picture. “Shut it!” You say and look at it. You smiled as you started to remember. Steve had invited you to the party, he was so nervous and anxious when he asked you that day.

Will soon hands you an album. It was Pictures of you and Steve and mostly you as a kid. You smiled at all of them and there was still space for new ones. You close the album and Look at Jonathan as he is driving. “So, will you show me?”

“nope, Not at all. They are embarrassing.”

“Eh, I'll just sneak and grab it anyways.” Jonathan says and you chuckled. You rolled your eyes and hugged the album close to you. You smiled softly As you remembered the old memories.

You are going to Miss Hawkins and Steve for sure.

A/N:DAMN I have not watched stranger things in a good while. I might rewatch it(o have to for the story) favorite season is season 3 because Steve is so goofy and I love that Mf Okay bye see you next chapter! Also guys I'm super in to Jujutsu Kaisen my JJK phase is back I watched it when it cane out animated and omg I love Satoru Gojo sm I use to hate him but now I love him idfk what happened to Me lol okay bye now