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#Jonathan Byers just out here like If I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more
catherineav · 4 months
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it looks like the hopper byers may be using the radio tower as their house so writing prompt: the first time they arrive there, kids having little fights to choose rooms, joyce and hop trying to make it cozy and homely for them, etc
OOPS because I'm me, this turned out slightly angsty, but no fear, it has a light ending. :) i hope this is somewhat what you had in mind!
They don’t have much. 
They took only the necessities back with them from California—the car, their clothes, a few family photo albums. It all amounts to a couple of duffle bags for each of them, which they immediately drop on the floor upon stepping into the abandoned radio station. 
Hopper has even less. His old clothes don’t fit for the most part, so his belongings consist mostly of some hoodies and t-shirts, plus the tokens from the cardboard boxes—Dad, Vietnam, Sara—he’d methodically repacked into his bags. 
Without a word of approval or complaint, Jonathan heads straight for the back of the old building. The room must once have been the producer’s office, judging by the framed records visible through the half-open doorway. 
El glances back at her parents, unsure, so Joyce offers her a nod and a tight smile. It’s not much, but it must be enough, because El steps forward to explore, dragging Will along behind her. 
“She’s never gotten to choose a room before,” Joyce realizes softly. Jim doesn’t answer, just shuts and bolts the entrance behind them before guiding her forward with a hand at the small of her back. She feels compelled to explain. “Owens already had the house staged when we got to California. Her room was so girly.”
That draws a smile from Jim, at least. 
But despite the soft murmurs from her two youngest—sharp and quick, are they really bickering over who gets which bedroom?—the whole place is too large and spacious and quiet for Joyce. So she keeps talking.
“He kept announcing what he would do for us, the house, the school, the documents, as if any of it could make up for what—what we lost. I thought he’d never shut up. ‘I’m impressed with myself, it wasn’t easy to get Jane in school, you know.’ The number of times I heard that line…The only reason I didn’t destroy our phone was because I needed it for the encyclopedias.” She shakes her head, pausing with her fingers on the tabletop of what was once a reception desk. It will make a decent kitchen table, if they can dig up a couple more chairs of the correct height. “And then to come through with the bare minimum to get us back from Alaska, it took days—”
“Joyce, I was there. Don’t exactly need ya to recount that one.”
She spins around, mortified, but he’s smiling. 
She releases the extra breath she’s been storing to fuel her rambling, instead slumping forward with her forearms on the table. “Sorry. I talk too much when I’m stressed.”
“Why are you stressed?” He mirrors her stance, facing her across the table.  
She laughs, she can’t help it. What a ridiculous question. But then…
She looks around, really looks around, for the first time.
Bob would have loved this place. The sad thought comes to her unbidden, but it's bittersweet. Her stomach doesn't roll with nausea like it might once have.
The station is gray and cold. Corporate, almost. But there are signs of life, too. An empty coffee mug, a calendar still turned to the previous month. Strangers lived and breathed here, but this family never has.
Her eyes meet Jim’s. “I’m homesick,” she whispers.
“Hmm.” He considers this, his gaze tracing a similar path. He smiles again. “We can make this home, I think.”
She stands straighter, a smile tugging at her own lips. “Yeah?”
He shrugs. “Sure. We’re all here, you and me and El and the boys, together, for starters. And it won’t be two days before we’re outnumbered by the rest of those teenagers four to one. We won’t be able to hear ourselves think until we bust out the pizza and eat it on the rug in front of the record player.”
It’s a pretty picture, if an outrageous one. “Okay,” she whispers. She believes him. 
With a kiss to her cheek, he steps past her, rummaging under the counter. He emerges with his arms full of dark fabric and dumps some into her arms. “And we’ll start with the blackout curtains.”
She holds back a groan, only because he calls in the kids to help and she’s pretty sure she can get away with minimal effort dumped into this project, if only because she’s short. But of course it isn't until the two of them are well into working on the first window together, the kids stomping in from the hallway, that Jim asks, “Why was it so difficult to enroll El in school? She should have had my money, the birth certificate…”
She can tell by his pinched frown that this has been bothering him. But she can also see that even as El and Will unroll one of the curtains in the corner, El is tuned in and listening. 
Joyce had only agreed to Owens's suggestion so El could enroll in a school with her brothers, attend parent-teacher conferences with her mother. Even still, she could never stand here and say the words Owens had to marry us with a straight face.
So she clears her throat and pushes herself onto her toes to secure the curtain. “It’s a long story. For another time.”
One day, she knows—perhaps gathered together eating pizza out of the box in front of the record player—she’ll tell it and smile. 
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classickook · 2 years
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hiya! I don't know if your requests are still open so feel free to ignore this!
so Steve is a very protective person, right? what if reader and him just became friends and he really really likes her and wants to ask her out but the upside down shit strikes again so he pushes her away because he doesn't want her to get hurt? and she's really sad because she thought they had something… I'd love a happy ending but that's your choice ❤️‍🩹
ps I love your work bestie!
tysm for your request and i’m sorry it took so long for me to get to it ! it’s quite short and angsty but i hope it’s okay <3
the town of hawkins should’ve known better than to assume that all of the mysterious happenings from before had disappeared for good.
steve “the hair” harrington and his crew of young teens were always caught in the middle of it all. you had joined their little posse a bit late in the game, but you were happy to be a part of it nonetheless. it was the most fun you had ever experienced, albeit quite strange at times. the kids were full of life and humor and always had you laughing to tears, but when shit hit the fan, things really turned sour for you and your new friends.
that’s where you found yourself now.
steve had claimed that the creatures from the upside down - you had been filled in about all the details once the others learned you were trustworthy - were back and worse than before; monstrous and nightmarish beings that you couldn’t believe were real. you had never seen them, however. steve had made sure of that. you felt a bit silly by it. after all, you were the same age as him and thought you could be given the same responsibilities as him, nancy, and jonathan. you weren’t a child! but he insisted that you shouldn’t be too involved, that things could turn ugly, that you might get hurt. you couldn’t care less about that - the town of hawkins was in danger and you might be able to help! why couldn’t you just help?
the group was currently gathered in the byers’ living room, passing around weapons and discussing the plan of attack, all the while you were sat on the sofa as it all played out. nobody had included you or asked for your opinion and you had never felt so excluded in your entire life. you could help! you could be useful in some way! why didn’t they see that?
as they were all set to leave, the three older teens leading the bunch, you stood as well, hoping to tag along at the last minute.
steve, however, wouldn’t let that happen. “stay here,” he said firmly.
“i’m coming with you.”
“no.”
he had never raised his voice at you like that before and you flinched at his tone, feeling scolded. “but, steve—” you said weakly.
“no, y/n,” he insisted. “it’s better if you just stay out of it, all right? we’ll handle it.”
“i can help—”
he grabbed you by the shoulders as if shaking some sense into you. “you’re. not. coming. and that’s final, understand?”
“steve, you’re being mean,” you said quietly.
“if that’s what it takes to keep you here, to keep you safe, then so be it.”
without another word, steve ushered everyone out the door - each of them casting pitying glances at you as they departed - and left you behind in the haunting silence of the byers’ empty living room, unsure of what to do with yourself until they returned.
*this wasn’t my best work, i know :( but i’m just trying to get back into the swing of things and dive into these requests!
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1985keery · 4 years
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broken - steve harrington.
steve harrington x female!reader
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prompt: after 3 years of fighting for her life, steve finally sees how broken she truly is.
words: 2,091
warnings: angst, cussing, mentions of puke, mentions of suicide :( 
The ceiling. It was so pretty, wasn’t it. Maybe it was her drugged mind, but she had never seen a better sight then the starcourt ceiling. The bright lights turned the beige top into a beautiful kaleidoscope. She was memorized. “Woah” she mumbles, her voice strained from the use. “Yeah” he agreed. 
Him. How was it always him? How are they always risking their lives together? It seemed to be something out of a fairytale. Thinking of it made her head hurt. Couldn’t they catch a break? They deserved it. He deserved it.
She subconsciously began to back up into him. He was a comfort for her, always protecting her and things. His tall frame stood above her as she laid the back of her head on his blood stained chest. If she had turned her head slightly, she could’ve felt the way his heartbeat was out of control.
Whatever was in that drug, it was surely doing it’s worst.
“Steve” she whispered. Her stomach was starting to feel rotten. She felt dizzy and unsure if she was gonna make it. It felt as if there was a curse on her or something, like she was due to melt. Her stomach gurgled again, and she started running. 
Working at the mall had it’s advantages, one being the two were able to locate the nearest bathrooms. Her blood stained white chucks squeaked as she turned every corner, She was sure the writing on them had been ruined. Shame, Robin drew such a pretty flower. 
As she heard Steve’s blue sneakers behind her, she felt such a heavy pang of guilt. Why did these things always happen to them? Why did they always have to save the world?
As they finally reached the men’s bathroom, they immediately started puking their lunches into the white toilets. He gripped on to the side of the toilets as she held on to her hair. The small bathroom was filled with the sound of gags and cries.
After a minuet he had finally stopped, grabbing toilet paper and wiping his mouth off, blood and vomit leaving his plump lips. She had finished too, but she just wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand. She was too weak to think logically.
She laid down on the black and yellow checkered floor and put her bruised legs on the red stall. The cold linoleum felt good against her damaged hands.  “The ceiling stopped spinning for me” she said, finally catching her breath. “Is it still spinning for you?”
Even though he could barley see through his swollen eye, he looked up. “Holy shit. No. You think we puked it all up?” She closed her bruised eyes and smiled, relieved at the thought. “Maybe”
Her heart rate was going down to normal, and reality was finally coming down on her. Her brain was on autopilot, almost. Her motives were controlled by wherever her legs were running to.
But now here she was, laying in a bathroom with King Steve after fighting Russians. Shit.
“How do we always end up like this?” she asked, a sad expression on her face. “Puking in a bathroom?’ 
She laughed even though it burned her cut lip. He always had the ability to make her laugh even under the greyist skies. “No, I mean, running for our lives. Fighting evil. I feel like a comic book character.” 
He gave a soft laugh at her comparison. “Nerd”. She smiled, hearing him tease her was a breath of fresh air. “Virgin” she teased.
“You must still be on the drugs” he laughed. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he had a smirk on his face, considering they had slept together. “Maybe. Ask me something. Interrogate me.” she said, mocking the Russian man. “I’ll interrogate you, sure.” he agreed, stopping to think of his question.
The air was light and it finally felt like they could let down their guard. They never did though, they knew better. “When was the last time you peed your pants?”
It was a stupid question, but she still laughed. “Today” she smiled, and she could hear his laugh  “What?” The smile in his voice was evident. “When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw”
“Oh my god” he laughed. There was his silly girl, the one he thought would be gone an hour ago. The one who got her pretty face beaten in by evil Russians. He was so glad she was back to him. “It was just a little bit though” He heard her giggle, and he smiled. 
“Okay, my turn” she said. She got up from the floor and laid her aching back on the stall. She was about to ask a silly question, like if he thought mermaids were real, but she started focusing on her hands. 
There was an equal amount of blood and dirt under her fingernails, and her knuckles were red from trying to defend herself. They would be bruised by the morning. There was blood and vomit on her shirt, she had a black eye and a bleeding nose, a gash on her forehead and every muscle in her body was aching. She looked like a walking pity party.
However, she was nothing compared to Steve. The poor guy couldn’t even see out of his right eye and there were cuts on all his face. She felt her stomach drop and got a quarter sized lump in her throat. 
“Do you think it’s even worth it?”
It was barley a whisper, but he heard it. “What?” He asked softly, noticing the mood change. She put her head in her lap, wanting to shrink as much as she can. She was tired of being seen, of being the one always saving the day. She wanted to curl up in a hole, where the villains could never hurt her again.
Every night there was a new nightmare. 
She couldn’t escape, everywhere she turned there was a new battle waiting to be fought. She felt angry. It wasn’t fair, she was only 19. Hell, she was just 17 when she fought the demogorgan with Jonathan and Nancy.
Even the cool flooring felt like fire to her, As she dug her fingernails into her palms, she shrunk deeper. “Y/N” Steve called, knocking on the wall. His heart started to race at the silence. “Did you OD over there?”
She lifted her head from her lap and wiped her tears, though there were more forming. “Nope. Still alive, somehow”. Her voice sounded so broken, and so scared. She dropped her head back into her lap
Steve slid under the stall, now sitting opposite of her. “Y/N” he said softly, taking her small hands into his rough ones. “Come on baby, talk to me”
Raising her head, Steve frowned at the tears on her cheeks. “Do you think it’s worth it, Steve? Risking our lives, being heros?”
He had never really thought about it. I mean sure, he had nightmares too, but life went on. It never occurred to him that it didn’t for her, that she was struggling. I mean, she would flinch at a lot of things and refused to walk in the dark, but now he realizes it was deeper then that.
“Well, yeah. The world needs heros” he spoke carefully. There was a fire in her chest, and that was the gasoline. “It’s not fair, Steve!” she yelled. Her usually small voice boomed through the bathroom. 
“Why is it always us? It’s not fair! I just wanted to be a normal teenager! But now I can’t sleep, can’t go to parties, and I can’t even put up Christmas lights!” her hands had began to shake from anger, but she was far from done,
“I’m fucked Steve! And I can’t even go to therapy, because they’d think I’m crazy! And Lord knows I can’t talk to my parents. Jesus, everyone gets to have this normal life, but we’re fighting demons once a year. They have no clue about demogorgans, or demo dogs, and- and- a-and they’re happy! I don’t even know what true happiness is anymore because I’m always fucking paranoid!
Angry tears had slipped down her cheeks. She was sobbing at this point. Quiet whines came out of her mouth. A shaky breathe, And her head was back in her lap. 
Steve laid his bleeding head back. She was right. Absolutely right. The air was thick, and it felt like it could suffocate them.  He felt so sorry for her. He grabbed her hand and put his chin on her knee. The yellow lights of the bathroom gleamed down on them. The hopelessly damaged kids.
“I had a plan, y’know” she said, as the silence broke. She licked her lips and sniffed. “At 17, I had a plan. I was gonna graduate, hopefully valedictorian. I was gonna go to Indiana State, get a job and an apartment, and I was gonna get the hell away from here, Have a family, a normal family, and a life for myself”
Jim Hopper and Joyce Byers came to her mind. It wasn’t fair to them either, how they ended stuck in Hawkins again. Nobody deserved to be stuck here.
He took a moment to process her words. He had a plan for himself at 17, too. One that involved Nancy Wheeler and a white picket fence. Now, thinking of it made him shiver. Looking at the girl who was in his plan now, he sighed.
“And at 18?” he asked. She clenched her first and rose up, unshed tears in her eyes. He watched her throat move as she swallowed. ‘I didn’t think I’d be here at 18″
He squinted, and it was clear to her that he didn’t understand. She squeezed her eyes shut, fearful of his reaction. Surely he would think less of her, he might even treat her with pity. 
“But, we survived the demogorgan” the innocent man said.
“Steve”
It was so painful. Having to tell her lover her darkest secrets. She was afraid the bright shades of red and pink around their love would now be black and grey. Steve didn’t deserve her, she thought. He deserved a girl like Nancy Wheeler, or like Tammy Thompson. Someone who wasn’t completely and utterly broken. 
“Yeah?” God, it still wasn’t clicking. She couldn’t say it, she had tried, but the worlds simply could not leave her mouth. So she said it with her eyes.
And then he understood. 
Something in his eyes had changed, and he finally saw how broken she really was. He always thought she was beautiful, but now he saw every detail of her face. He saw the frown lines and the eyebags, and the hurt in her eyes. “Oh” he mumbled.
This was it, she thought. He was gonna call her a freak, or an idiot. The two never made them selves official, but they knew, Everyone knew. “Holy shit”
Her heart was beating again, for the millionth time that day. “Yeah. Holy shit”
She didn’t look at him, too afraid of seeing his expression, but he couldn’t look away from her. His sweet, sweet girl. How stupid he was, to not see how she was feeling. It was his job to make sure she was okay. He felt as if he had failed her. “You OD over there?” she asked, trying to break the tension.
“No” he answered. “Just thinking”. She nodded and felt another lump in her throat. Her fingernails had left inprints in her palms, and she was desperately trying to not cry again.
“I had a plan at 18 too” he said. She finally pulled her eyes to him, “I was gonna join the circus.” 
She certainly was not expecting that. “What?” 
“I was gonna join the circus” he said, smiling, “I’d be one of the clowns, or maybe even the ring leader” She finally laughed again. “Why.... why was that in your plan?”
“I thought it’d be cool, and I’d look hot in a rainbow wig.”  He was rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand, and was relived to see the soothing action was working. She laughed as she said. “You wouldn’t dare mess up your precious hair, Harrington. I on the other hand would make a excellent acrobat”
“Please, you did gymnastics for what, 6 months? And then what happened” They were both smiling now. “My ankle healed!” she defended, as they both laughed. 
The doors burst open and suddenly Robin, Dustin and Erica were in front of them. “Seriously, what the hell” Dustin yelled, clearly pissed. The two only looked at each other and laughed again. Steve stood and reached out his hand. “One more battle?”
Her smile dropped a little, but she took his hand anyway. “One more battle”
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hartigays · 4 years
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“I’m in love with you." "Shut up and kiss me."
1. “I’m in love with you.”
4. “Shut up and kiss me.”
steve comes in from the cold with a shiver, knocking his boots against the doorframe to shake loose any remaining snow.
there’s a thin trickle of snot dribbling from steve’s nose, and he wipes it off with a gloved hand, sniffling. he doesn’t have to look in the mirror to know that his nose is red and chapped after the hours he’d spent outside clearing the traps.
“we get anything good?” hopper asks. he’s squatting by the fireplace, tossing some logs and sticks into the flames.
steve brandishes the belt of rabbits and squirrels he’d collected, smiling. “we did pretty good, all things considered.”
joyce is the first to jump up, examining their kill with a gleeful smile. it’s been a few weeks since they’ve gotten this much in the traps, and they’re in dire need of protein. steve wants to strip a rabbit clean and roast it over the fire to feed el right then and there, her sunken-in eyes concerning him more than anything.
“good thing, too,” joyce says, sighing happily. “we need it. help me in the kitchen, will ya, hop?”
the two disappear into the kitchen, and steve makes his way into the living room, crouching down by the fire to warm his hands. the kids are gathered around under an assortment of blankets; el is curled into max’s side, and will his mimicking their position with mike. dustin and lucas are huddling for warmth as well, curled up under the same flannel blanket.
“we eat tonight?” el asks, fixing steve with inquisitive eyes.
steve nods, leaning over to ruffle her hair. “sure are, kid.”
it’s been over a year since the world went to shit, every corner of the earth crawling with the living dead. they still aren’t sure how it happened, but they’ve managed to adapt as best as they can as a group, under the circumstances.
steve has been thankful since day one that he’d been with the party when this shit went down, rather than home alone in his big, empty house.
joyce and hopper had been holding a family dinner when the world basically ended, so steve had been in the company of them, all the kids, nancy, and jonathan when the first of the flesh-eaters staggered its way onto the porch. el had taken care of it quickly, but it was the first of many.
after that, they’d stayed at the byers house for as long as they could, but it’d been a matter of time before they’d needed to go on the move in search of food. along the way they’d come across robin and heather, trapped in robin’s house with the rotting corpses of her parents.
it hadn’t been more than a few days after picking them up, everyone parked in their cars in a vacant lot trying to ride things out, that a herd had passed through. the group had fought with all their might, but they’d been hopelessly outnumbered.
that is, until one crazy motherfucker with enough firepower to rival a small army came blazing through, blowing the head off of anything that had once been dead and since came back to life.
and that motherfucker had been none other than billy hargrove.
billy had survived the first wave of flesh-eaters by letting them overrun his house, using neil as bait. steve hadn’t asked too many questions about why billy had been so comfortable using his father as a tasty snack for the living dead; he’d met neil once or twice, he didn’t need to ask.
and one good thing about neil was his tendency to stockpile weapons. which, in any other situation, might not look so good. but in these times, it was nothing short of a blessing.
an unfortunate casualty of billy’s neil-turned-zombie-snack plan had been susan. according to billy, he’d tried his hardest to get her to leave with him and max, but she’d refused to leave neil’s side. even after neil turned into a flesh-eating monster, trying to rip her head off, susan had declined to leave her home.
it was only a matter of time before she became dinner for a pea-brained flesh-eater. billy had to pull max away as she kicked and screamed, initially not wanting to accept her mother’s fate. but it was too late - the moment susan had gotten a chunk ripped out of her neck by the thing that had once been her husband, max stopped fighting.
it’d only been a few days later that they’d swung in and saved the party’s collective ass, staving off the now near-inevitable fate of every living creature on this planet. that fate being the inevitability of being torn apart by flesh-eating monsters, only to be reanimated as flesh-hungry monsters themselves.
now, the group is holed up in a dilapidated home that had once been a bed and breakfast of sorts, just trying to ride this shit out without losing their heads. and they haven’t lost anyone yet, by some miraculous stroke of luck.
that isn’t to say that they don’t worry every day that each hour might be their last. but they’re thankful for the small things.
steve acknowledges this now, as he appraises the group of kids before him. although they’re more like teenagers now, having grown up far too fast during all of the chaos.
el opens up the blanket she’s sharing with max, gesturing for steve to come get warm. he accepts her invitation gratefully, curling up under the blanket as another shiver runs through him.
“cold,” el says, her eyes meeting steve’s. she has a hand covering his icy fingers, her brows furrowed in concern. “too cold.”
“don’t worry, kid. i’ll warm him up.”
the voice comes from the hallway, and a moment later billy appears at the threshold, leaning against the doorframe with a toothy smile.
steve can’t help but roll his eyes, even though his stomach does a little flip-flop. el’s eyes flit between them, her brows coming even closer together in confusion.
“ugh,” nancy groans from the kitchen. steve sees her shoot billy a disapproving look. “keep it in the bedroom, hargrove. there are kids here.”
“hey, we’re like, old now. we know what sex is!” dustin protests.
steve chokes on his own spit, his cheeks heating up. “we are not having sex! i don’t even - that’s not even - i can’t believe - that’s just - it’s just. it’s wrong - we don’t even -”
billy gives steve a look, his brows raised, and it effectively cuts off steve’s rambling protests. because, okay, it’s not like billy is wrong, per se. steve has seen billy’s dick more than his own in recent weeks. but really, can anyone blame him? like, it’s the end of the world, for fucks’ sake. it’s not like he has many options to choose from.
and it doesn’t help that billy is, like, disgustingly hot, even after having not showered in months.
maybe steve is just weak. or maybe he’d thought about riding billy into the sunset more often than not before the world decided to go and practically spin off its axis. either way, he doesn’t hold himself solely responsible for having fallen into bed with billy the moment billy had used a cheap pickup line when steve had taken a few too many sips of toilet wine, and had stayed there ever since.
steve heaves himself up off the floor, scuffling over to billy to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. “quit it. they don’t need the details.”
“but i like the details,” billy protests, though it’s more to be annoying than to actually argue.
billy tugs steve in by the lapels of his coat, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. steve can’t help but smile into the kiss, his heart doing little somersaults in his chest.
“you did good with the traps,” steve tells him, bumping their noses together. “got enough to last us ‘bout a week.”
“told you they’d work,” billy says, sticking his tongue out. “and you said i was too much of a city boy. better pay up, princess.”
steve rolls his eyes, despite the fact that he’s pulling billy in closer. “i stand corrected. happy now?”
“ecstatic.”
billy leans in for another kiss, but steve steps back with a cheeky smile, backing into the kitchen despite billy’s disbelieving look.
steve helps joyce and hopper strip and clean their kill, stringing up most of it above the fire to form jerky in the smoke. the rest they cook up for their evening meal, finally having enough food for everyone to go to bed with a full stomach.
later, after a long evening spent laughing and eating around the fire, the group turns in for bed, sated and full. steve offers to take on cleanup duty for the evening, so he’s the last to make his way to his room, trudging up the stairs with an armful of blankets.
billy is already laying in bed, lounging in nothing but sweatpants, cocooned in their comforter. they’d originally shared a room with nancy and jonathan, but the two had switched to bunk with robin and heather once they realized billy didn’t care whether or not they were present when he wanted to get laid.
it’s not like steve really cared either - billy is tight and warm and all the things steve wants to bury himself into after a long day of trying to survive. and it can’t be said that billy isn’t a giver either - he has a dick and he knows how to use it. steve can attest to that fact. he’s experienced far too many days of not being able to walk straight to say anything less.
and billy’s appetites aren’t anything steve can complain about, because they now have a room to themselves. which is nice for reasons other than being able to pound each other into their mattress. they can stay up late whispering to each other, talking about the future and their dreams and how they feel.
turns out billy isn’t just busting it open for steve’s monster dick. he’s after steve’s heart, too, and steve is more than happy to give it to him. despite billy being an absolute tool in high school, he’s turned out to be a soft-hearted romantic in the midst of the apocalypse.
“you’ve gotta stop alluding to our sex life in front of the kids,” steve says as he crawls into bed, having changed into a warm set of flannel pajamas that he’d grabbed from a wal-mart on one of their many food runs.
billy just looks at him, his blue eyes big and innocent. “but how else will everyone know you’re mine?”
steve snorts, snacking billy’s bare shoulder. “i think you’ve made that abundantly clear. seriously, hop is gonna force us to sit down with him and have ‘the talk’ if you don’t cut it out.”
“sounds sexy,” billy says with a wink, and steve can’t help his cackle. “‘sides, they said it themselves. they’re not kids anymore.”
“it’s still weird,” steve groans. “and you act like they don’t hear us railing each other nine times out of ten. the walls here are like paper.”
“railing each other, huh? i don’t believe you. i think we need to test that out to see if that’s actually what we do.”
steve shoves billy with a groan that’s half a laugh. “oh my god, you’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“only for you, sweetheart,” billy tells him, tongue poking out between his teeth.
“shut up and kiss me, asshole.”
billy normally would challenge steve given the insult, but not tonight. instead, he rolls over, tugging steve in and sealing their lips together with a contented sigh. steve isn’t sure if it’s because he’d been gone for hours clearing the traps, or if billy is just in a cuddly mood, but steve certainly isn’t complaining. he just kisses billy until both of their lips are swollen and bruised.
it’s when they break apart that billy fixes steve with a wide-eyed stare, his chest heaving a little. “i’m in love with you.”
steve’s heart feels like it stops in chest, and his mouth pops open in surprise. “wait, seriously?”
it’s not what steve means to say, but it’s not innaccurate. he is in disbelief, just a little. billy looks kind of self-conscious, his eyes drifting up towards the ceiling. he rolls onto his back, putting some distance between them.
steve reaches out and catches billy’s hand, threading their fingers together. “hey, i didn’t - that’s not what i meant. i mean, i love you too. i thought that was obvious.”
billy’s head snaps over to look at him, his eyes narrowed. “yeah? you’re not just saying that ‘cause i’m the only hot piece of ass left within a fifty-mile radius?”
“you were the only hot piece of ass within a fifty-mile radius before the world ended,” steve mutters, his thumb rubbing across the softness of billy’s skin. “i mean, seriously. i didn’t need the dead to rise up for me to know that.”
“oh,” billy says, and steve can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek. “thought you were only in it ‘cause you didn’t have any options left. y’know, nancy having ditched you for stalker boy and robin liking pussy and all.”
steve shoots billy a disbelieving look, snorting softly. “billy, you literally had me getting hard for you in the showers after basketball practice. doesn’t bother me than you’re not a girl, if that’s what you’re worried about. i fucked tommy when i was fourteen.”
billy chokes out a surprised laugh, and it echoes around the room. “you’re fuckin’ kidding me.”
“nope.”
“well, shit. thought you were straight as an arrow before all this,” billy says thoughtfully. “would’ve paid to see you fuck hagan. bet he cries when he cums.”
“nah, he giggles. which is somehow weirder,” steve laughs. “wonder if he’s dead.”
“dunno, saw him with perkins at the school when everyone was gathering there for that refugee camp they kept talking about. got overrun, last i heard,” billy says with a shrug. “maybe he made it out.”
“i hope so,” steve hums, then shrugs when billy gives him a pointed look. “he was my best friend once upon a time, you know. just ‘cause you’re jealous doesn’t mean i hope he’s dead.”
“yeah, yeah,” billy snorts, rolling his eyes. “can we fuck now? i need to get the image of you pounding hagan out of my mind.”
“why, that get you worked up?” steve teases, poking at billy’s cheek with his index finger.
billy just catches steve’s wrists in his hands and rolls him onto his back, straddling his hips and pinning him to the mattress. steve can’t help but giggle when billy leans down to kiss him, tangling his fingers in his curls when billy releases his wrists.
the world is a bleak place these days, but steve has carved out his own slice of happiness despite it. smiling into billy’s kisses, the warm weight of billy on top of him, grounding him, steve knows he’ll do whatever it takes to defend his little piece of paradise.
and maybe it’s not what steve envisioned for himself back when he was an idealistic teenager. but he’s not going to argue it. it’s not like they have much left to find joy in, after all.
steve will take whatever piece of it that he can get.
send me super sappy prompts!
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femmeharringrove · 3 years
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merry christmas yall have the first chapter of a fic i completely forgot about
It’s Christmas eve, and Steve hasn’t slept in at least three days but that’s fine.
It’s not, not really, but those are the two words the boy has learned to live off of: that’s fine. It’s the motto of complacency, his father said once, after hearing it on the radio. Steve was just twelve at the time and already knew then that his father’s opinion wasn’t worth shit. Steve isn’t complacent, thank you very much. If he has to label himself, he thinks chill is a better word. He’s a chill guy, he’s the most chill person he knows, and everyone loves a chill person so it’s fine.
It’s stupidly early and he’s on the stupid green sofa in his stupid big house and he feels like shit, which is a surprise to exactly no one. The living room is a mess – he should clean it, he thinks vaguely, but he doesn’t plan on making a move anytime soon. If his parents were coming home he’d do it; can’t have them knowing their son’s become a wallowing slouch as of late. But they’re not coming.
His mother called yesterday, trilling over the line in her unnaturally pitched voice about how Prague was just beautiful this time of year and she wished he could be there to see but someone had to hold the fort down and speaking of they just won’t be able to make it back for the holidays but how would he feel about driving to Cincinnati on New Year’s Eve to join them at one of his father’s business socials that would be fun right? And Steve just listened because what else could he do?
He hadn’t been expecting them, anyway. The family hadn’t celebrated Christmas together in four years.
And in those four years he’d had options. Tommy’s family was happy to have him over, he spent many a holiday with the Hagans and then he’d spent that one truly merry Christmas with the Wheelers, and it was fine, but now he’s got none of that. This year, it’s him and the big empty house and he sort of hates it but it’s fine, thanks.
Steve watches the shadows on the wall shift with the rising sun and feels some vague sense of relief; it’s easier to breathe when the sun is out. That’s what’s been bothering him, really. When he does sleep, his dreams are plagued with darkness and cold and danger, and when he wakes up it’s still darkness and he feels like he can’t breathe. Those nightmares have gotten worse, infinitely worse over time. It’s easier to avoid sleep altogether sometimes. And he has no obligations this holiday season, no parties to appear at or houses to crash, so he can afford the heavy circles under his eyes this year.
It’s fine. It has to be fine, so it is. Even if it isn’t really.
Hawkins got snow last night. Steve drags himself up from his seat and meanders to the back door, eyes gazing out over the endless white carpeting the ground outside. He used to love snow. Now anything cold makes him uncomfortable. He hates the winter, makes him think of the dark Upside Down.
Or that damned Soviet Union and their officers and their cold, cruel faces watching on as he tells them he’s not a spy.
Had that really been this year? It feels like a lifetime ago. It feels like just yesterday. He tears his eyes away from the snow and pads into the kitchen in search of something warm. Coffee? Definitely coffee. He waits in the kitchen while the dark beverage brews and since he’s here he figures he may as well get some food into his body. Steve can cook – it becomes a necessity when you spend most of your childhood devoid of parents – but he doesn’t really want to cook. Takes too much energy, and he’s not willing to put said energy into that. So he goes with toast, because you can never go wrong with toast, right? He even slathers the bread with copious amounts of butter. It’s not the most fulfilling breakfast, but he likes it well enough.
The coffee finishes brewing and Steve spills a good bit of his father’s whiskey into it before dunking three spoonfuls of sugar in and retreating back to the couch. He grabs the remote on his way over and drops himself gracelessly on the cushions before pressing a button. The screen flickers to life and he chugs half of the hot beverage, flips through channel after channel before settling on some feel-good holiday movie. He hates these movies, he really does, but if he’s lucky it might be enough to lull him to sleep for an hour or so.
Steve used to love Christmas movies. He watched families on television gather together and enjoy one another’s company, children waiting for the magic of Santa Claus while parents shared tender moments under mistletoe. It was everything a younger Steve had desired in a holiday. Even when he had his parents home for Christmas, things had been different. Their home was filled with strange adults, co-workers of his father’s and social acquaintances of his mother’s. Santa Claus never came to visit him – his parents would simply give him a gift or two gathered from their trips abroad. He used to enjoy it, but as he got older the presents got less and less interesting, less personal. He went from wishing for those perfect movie-esque holidays to resenting them. That being said, they have their appeal.
Even now Steve can’t help but get a sense of warm comfort and joy radiating from the film, a warm sensation wrapping around his chest. It’s a strange comfort to him, in spite of his bitterness. There’s something inherently warm about holidays, and yet Steve finds himself feeling cold. He wonders idly what his parents are doing now, if they’ll remember to call tomorrow. The boy sits and sips on coffee and wonders and he’s right about the movie because he ends up dozing for a little bit. He dreams of families and caroling and trees and the whole scene takes on a peaceful, golden haze. Something almost physical wounds around his body like a cat rubbing along his frame in a form of greeting. It’s the nicest dream he’s had in a long time.
Which is why, when the doorbell startles him out of his dreams, Steve feels like he’s capable of murder.
The boy is so confused at first he doesn’t realize it’s his doorbell. When the incessant ringing gets accompanied by an even more incessant knocking on the door, Steve groans. The warmth seeps away and he heaves himself up from the couch. The mug is drained of its remaining lukewarm contents before he sets it on the coffee table. Footsteps land heavy as he stomps his way to the door, yanking it open and preparing to bite off the head of whoever dared to disturb him so early on Christmas Eve of all days.
His face morphs from a snarl to a look of surprise. Dustin grins up at him, oblivious to Steve’s previous anger.
And he’s not alone, either. El is there, too, brown eyes sparkling at him, arm tucked in Max’s as they flash him identical grins. On Dustin’s other side, Will’s smile is something more timid than the rest of his co-conspirators. Steve’s shoulders drop.
“What are you dipshits doing out here?” he snaps playfully. “Not you, of course, Will.” Will’s smile widens while Dustin and the girls make faces of protests.
“Hey!” Dustin squawks indignantly. “I’m your favorite, that’s not allowed to change!”
“Oh yeah?” Steve’s hands settled on his hips. “Who rang the doorbell?” El’s hand shoots up. “Uh-huh. And who started knocking?” The younger boy shares a guilty look with Max, who kicks guiltily at the ground. Will blinks at him in innocent confusion. Steve smirks. “So, every single one of you played a role in waking me up from my nap with the exception of Will. Little Byers is now my favorite.” Max groans and Dustin makes another scandalized sound, while Will and El both try to hide their giggles. Steve feels a mix of fondness and frustration as he watches them; that seems to be his default emotion around these damned kids. Shaking his head, Steve opens the door wider. “Okay, okay, now why don’t you all come in so I can figure out what I owe this visit to?”
“No need,” El responds, her laughter dying down. That amused happiness never leaves her face, however. “Will you have dinner with us?”
“Mom and Hopper want you to join us,” Will adds. “You can help out with the tree and everything.”
“And baking and cooking and shit, because Hop and Mrs. Byers aren’t the best in the kitchen,” Max finishes, and even though Will makes a small attempt to protest he and El share a knowing shudder. Dustin bounces on his feet slightly as he looks up at the older boy.
“Plus, if you say yes I can ride back to the house with you!” He grins broadly. “Whaddya say?” Steve blinks.
What does he say?
It’s a nice idea, sure. He loves these kids, feels safe with the two adults in question, and spending the day with them promises to be interesting at the very least. But if they’re all there, he has little doubt about Nancy and Jonathan being there too, and he’s really not mad about it anymore but there’s a little bit of awkwardness lingering between the trio. And even if he did go, those lovebirds will have each other. The party has each other, Hopper has Joyce.  Steve is bound to be left out eventually. He knows it’s not on purpose, of course, but he knows how this goes. How many times has it happened before? And he’s already a little bit pissy this holiday season, that truth isn’t likely to make this any more enjoyable.
But eight pairs of eyes watch him expectantly, hopeful looks etched onto their faces. Steve’s gaze shifts past them, down the driveway and he finds Hopper’s truck waiting at the end and he doesn’t have to see the man to know he’s also waiting for an answer.
He doesn’t like disappointing people. He’s chill, Steve goes with the flow as a matter of principle, and this is where the flow seems to be leading. He makes a show of sighing, theatrics making the kids smile even wider.
“I shouldn’t –“ A series of pleas and protests interrupt him and he has to work hard to keep from smiling. Damn, Steve should have run off to New York or Hollywood and becoming an actor, he’s good at this. “- Oh, alright. I guess I can come for a little while. Dustin pumps his fist into the air as the others grin widely. Dustin rushes to the Beamer and Max isn’t far behind.
“Get your keys, Harrington, let’s get moving!” he shouts. Steve can’t help but laugh.
“Hang on, you little gremlin, I gotta get real clothes on! And do my hair!” The two set on riding with him dart back over and duck under his arm into the house, and Steve waves Will and El off. “Go on, you two, don’t wait for me. Tell Hop I’ll bring the little devils with me,” he orders. Both nod eagerly before setting off back to the car. Steve sees them off before turning back into the house. Max is in the living room, face wrinkled into something resembling disgust.
“Jesus, Steve,” she says, “Do you ever clean this place?” It has gotten pretty bad over the past month or so. Steve tries not to wince at the judgement he feels radiating off of the redhead.
“Never, it’s a point of pride at this point,” he teases instead, and she makes another face, nose crinkling before she rolls her eyes and makes a snide comment about messy boys. Steve reaches over and ruffles her hair, reveling in her giggled squawk of protest. “Oh, be nice, Mayfield. It’s a holiday!” Dustin’s footsteps thud down the stairs.
“It is the holidays, so I know you got me a gift, Harrington,” he states, eyes narrowing. “Where is it?” Max perks up in interest now, spinning from the curly-haired kid to the taller boy, eyebrows arching up.
“Oh, uh, presents? Yeah, um -” Steve smiles sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. Dustin’s eyes go wide.
“You forgot?” He marches down the rest of the stairs. “I can’t believe you, Harrington! Party members are supposed to get gifts for other party members! How could you forget?”
“Steeeve,” Max whines, head falling back dramatically. “I can’t believe you!” And she shouldn’t. Neither of them should. Again, he’s sure he’s missed his calling in life with the whole acting thing. Of course he got gifts for them – tucked safely away in the trunk of his car. He doesn’t plan on outright putting his name on them, but he’s sure the kids will figure it out tomorrow morning, which ones he leaves for them.
Chuckling at their antics, Steve hops up the stairs two at a time and dives into his room. How did this become his life, dealing with more barely-pubescent teens than any nineteen-year-old should? Steve’s shower is quick, and he styles up his hair before digging out an ugly sweater his grandmother had gotten him four years ago. Back then people were convinced the boy would go through a growth spurt; he did, but he hadn’t beefed up in the way everyone anticipated. The sweater still remains baggy on his slender frame, but he wears it nonetheless. Jeans are hastily yanked on and socked feet are shoved into sneakers before he trips his way down the steps.
Max and Dustin are anxious by the door, and he grins at them as he approaches the hall closet and grabs a coat. He hears his keys jangle softly in the pocket as he pulls it over his shoulders.
“The two of you have no patience,” he teases, watching them dash out to the car. He follows at a slower pace, amusement tugging at his lips. The kids are practically buzzing with excited energy, urging him to speed up, and they clamor into the car the moment he gets it unlocked, Max beating Dustin out for the coveted shotgun position. The younger boy pouts at Steve in the rearview mirror. Steve smiles right back at him. “Don’t look at me, she won this round, buddy.” Max’s smile is smug next to him, and Dustin scowls before slumping in the backseat. Steve shakes his head. “Alright, everybody buckle – even you, slouch potato,” The kid’s sulking is immediately replaced with a displeased squawk, and Steve doesn’t bother to hide his pleased smile as he eases out of the driveway and out onto the road.
It’s an easy trip; Steve exits Loch Nora and cruises down Dearborn. From there it’s a turn onto Maple and he has Max dig out cassettes from the glove box now. Wham! sings about holidays and heartbreak as Steve drives carefully past the Sinclair home, then the Wheelers not long after. He’s sure the occupants of both homes are either not there or too busy to be peering out of curtains in search of their kids’ babysitter, but he doesn’t want to risk having them see him do anything remotely reckless, and so he adheres to the laws of the road. Once he turns onto Cornwallis Street, he relaxes, speed inching up as he goes. Dustin’s previous sour mood has all but evaporated and he talks in that loud way of his, leaning up so he can get a look at the two people upfront. Max is just as chatty, and Steve is happy to let them converse, offering small hums here and there to show he’s listening.
He’s not really listening, but he doesn’t need them knowing.
Whiskey eyes try to focus on the road as he makes another turn, this time onto Kerley. It’s been five months since Hawkins last had to fight off monsters. Five months since the mall went down in flames. Five months since the Soviets and their needles and their gate.
He has nightmares still, about the room and the faces and the pain. Sometimes Robin’s there, panicked eyes screaming at him to help. Other times he sees Dustin, the kid looking betrayed as the general smugly tells him about Steve’s slip-up in his interrogation. Some nights he has dreams that leave him feeling physically cold. Those are the dreams he can never remember – whenever he tries, his head aches in a sharp sort of way that quickly has him leaving the whole thing alone. Even now as he thinks about it a dull throb warns him against it just behind his eyes. His thoughts wander further as the Beamer rolls onto Mirkwood.
Robin thinks he needs help. She may be right. Two weeks ago he almost had a full-blown panic attack in the back room of Family Video after seeing someone who looked eerily like the so-called doctor that ended up tugging his fingernails out with horrific ease. Even Keith had been surprised, awkwardly giving him the rest of the day off. Robin, bless her soul, tried talking him down, but ultimately she just held him while he sobbed frantically. Every day after that she gave him this look and he felt like he was suffocating under the weight of her pity, the cold force of her concern, the bitterness of her remorseful anger.
He still isn’t sure how he knew she was feeling all of that so clearly. Steve’s not great at a lot of things, but he’s always had a knack for reading a room. You learned how to do that after witnessing your parents have screaming matches almost every night they actually spent the night in Hawkins; he had to decide whether the tension in the air was manageable or too electric for him to safely involve himself in. When you struggle up the social ladder of high school, you learn how to read people and earn their favor. It’s his thing, always interpreting. It’s been five months since that little quirk seemed to get more sensitive. He doesn’t exactly know how he feels about that, or if it’s a good thing at all.
Steve slowly tunes back into conversation as he turns off of Mirkwood and makes his way down a simple dirt path. From what he can tell, Dustin and Max didn’t quite miss his additions to their conversation during the drive. Easily the two chattiest people in the Party, the older teen’s convinced they could talk for a week straight, without pause, and never notice the lack of anyone else’s input. It’s impressive, if you ask Steve. Max’s electric blue eyes catch his for a moment and she grins widely. She looks for all the world like a normal girl, not like someone who’d almost lost her brother on the Fourth of July.
The Beamer finally comes to a halt. Steve laughs as the two kids scramble out of the car and rush up the driveway. He takes a moment to turn the ignition off and now he’s suddenly feeling rather hesitant.
Why did he let them talk him into this?
The boy slumps in his seat. He should go home. He should crawl onto the couch in the living room and hide under blankets the rest of the night. The kids would not be particularly pleased with him, he’s sure, but he’ll make up for it with the gifts in the trunk. But if he leaves, when is he going to have a chance to leave those gifts for them? He certainly can’t come back tomorrow, and after that he’s just going to feel bad. Up ahead, Dustin’s head tilts as he looks back at the car.
“Harrington! You coming?” Steve hesitates, waves the kid off, and as soon as Dustin turns again he drops his head against the wheel.
He really, really should leave.
The door is slammed shut with a nudge of his hip, and Steve trudges his way up the driveway. Joyce is at the door, all smiles as usual. In spite of his doubts, the boy can’t help but smile back.
“Steve! I’m so glad you came,” she greets, pulling him into a hug as soon as he gets near. Steve settles in her hold for a few brief moments before tugging away reluctantly.
“Hey, Mrs. Byers. I would have brought something with me, but -“ Joyce cuts him off, gentle hands waving about dismissively.
“Oh, none of that,” she chides, “And it’s Joyce, honey. Besides, you can still help in the kitchen.” Her smile turns almost sheepish. “Hopper and I could use an extra hand.” Both of them are stellar single parents, but Steve knows for a fact that neither can cook to save their lives. Steve’s been mastering the art since he was thirteen, he’s gotten quite good at it. He nods at the woman as he slips past her into the house and for a moment he’s overwhelmed by how homey the place looks.
Wrapping paper, string lights, and other festive odds and ends litter the floor. Hopper and Jonathan seem to be in the process of setting up the tree in a corner. A holiday record plays loudly, barely heard over the roaring chatter of the kids yelling and running around. It’s chaos, the very best kind. He’s surrounded by the inherent warmth of it all and the lingering trepidation melts away quickly as Steve lets his shoulders relax.
Eleven notices him first among the kids, and is quick to slip out of a confused Mike’s grip to greet him. Her hug is warm, and Steve holds her tight, one hand rubbing her back as he returns her embrace.
“Hey, kid,” he chuckles, ruffling her hair. Eleven beams up at him.
“You came,” she proclaims. Now Steve lets out a full laugh.
“Well, of course I did! I couldn’t just not show up. Besides, you and Will left me with the little hellions, remember?” Will comes next, shy smile creeping across his face as he tucks himself easily against Steve’s side. Steve pretends to give him a scolding look. “Had my ear talked off the whole way here thanks to you.” Will knows for a fact the older teen isn’t even remotely upset with him. The attempted glare melts into a grin and the boy relaxes, his smile growing easier as his slender arm squeezes around Steve’s waist, then retracts as he backs off. Lucas, already trapped on the ground with Max and Erica, waves in greeting. His teeth flash brilliantly in his bright grin and Steve tips an imaginary hat in his direction. Not too far off, Mike nods in his own greeting, gruff in his usual manner but maybe the holiday magic is working because there’s something unusually friendly about the gesture. Steve returns it in kind.
When Nancy makes her appearance, she falters at the sight of him and Steve’s body almost flinches with the strangeness of it all. Her eyes blink once, twice before she gives him that sad smile.
“I didn’t know you were coming.” Steve’s answering smile is painfully awkward.
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t planning on coming. The kids roped me into this last-minute, you know how it is with them.” He becomes distinctly aware of Jonathan eyeing them from across the room and clears his throat.
Yeah, maybe this is a little bit of a mistake.
His escape comes in the form of Hopper, the man’s burly arm falling across his shoulders in a gruff greeting.
“Glad you decided to show up, kid. You’re the only competent chef in this house,” he jokes, but it isn’t really a joke. You’d think a couple of adults would know how to cook a decent meal – well, Joyce can cook a decent meal, but it’s just that. His smile is only slightly less awkward as he’s guided into the kitchen, tossing an odd sort of goodbye to the girl as he goes. Joyce gives him a relieved look as he enters the kitchen.
“Steve, do you think you could help me with this soup?”
He’s kept pleasantly busy after that. Between helping with Joyce’s mushroom soup, letting Dustin peel carrots for the pot roast, taking that job away after the kid hacked apart the vegetables beyond recognition, and attempting to restore some general sense of order to the lawless land of the kitchen, Steve barely has time to think about Nancy or Jonathan or the yelling all around him. He hardly pays attention to the pleasant buzz filling his body as a result of the warm atmosphere. It’s dark by the time all the food gets finished. He’s oddly proud of himself as he looks at the spread of food on the table. It’s nothing fancy, but beef and soup and biscuits on Christmas Eve isn’t a bad idea if you ask him.
He can sit at the table with the rest of the adults. There’s space, and Joyce asks him sweetly if he’d like to sit with them. Steve feels decidedly more comfortable on the living room floor with the kids, however.
And that just seems to be the bulk of his problems sometimes, doesn’t it?
Steve Harrington is almost twenty years old, and he has nearly no friends his own age. To top things off, he also has no idea what he’s doing with himself currently, his past haunts his sleep and his waking hours, and his future is all but nonexistent. He peaked in high school and his life has been in a steady decline ever since. But it’s not all bad – at least he’s got the tragic honor of babysitting the six toughest kids in all the world.
And they aren’t even kids anymore, are they? They’re creeping up on their fifteenth birthdays, all of them. Dustin’s is less than a month away already. Steve can’t believe it. They were kids just yesterday, it feels. He was a kid just yesterday, wasn’t he? Monsters have a funny way of forcing you to grow up, he supposes. And they’ve truly grown, his kids.
Eleven’s curls bounce as her head swivels back and forth to follow their conversation, smile warm and genuine as she leans against Steve’s right. Dustin’s always by his side, the little snot. He looks so happy all the time, his eyes crinkling around the edges as he talks animatedly on his left. Mike’s grown so tall, it’s crazy. Coltish legs are folded awkwardly under him as he sits by Eleven’s side. Lucas rivals Mike in height, though he looks significantly less awkward as he leans up against an engaged Max. She’s cut her hair recently; it’s not a bad look, though he knows she wants to grow it back out again. Something about her is tinged with a bitter sadness, something that makes Steve’s throat choke up in a most peculiar way. He gets it, though; Billy’s brush with death wasn’t that long ago, and she’s still struggling with her grief. But she’ll be alright, he knows. Billy’s getting better, her friends are too stubborn to allow her to struggle alone, even if Billy isn’t their favorite. And on Mike’s other side, simply enjoying the moment, sits Will. He’s grown too, but he’s kept much of his quiet mannerisms. He catches Steve’s eye and smiles a little wider, an action Steve mimics.
Sometimes, the calmer Will Byers is the one Steve claims as his favorite. In all truth, he doesn’t have a favorite.
He has different relationships with each kid, that’s all. His relationships with some are weaker than others, weaker than he liked them to be. Some of them share a bond even Steve can’t explain. But the one thing each relationship has in common is the boy’s love for each and every one of them. There’s no favoritism, even if he tells them otherwise. There’s no choosing, none of that. Each of these six kids have Steve’s whole heart.
It’s Eleven who catches him staring next, and she must see the fondness on his face because the smile she gives him is soft and tender and knowing in its own way. Eleven took to him surprisingly quick; he didn’t quite understand it yet, but he was glad the kid felt so at ease with him.
He’s dragged into the present by Dustin very suddenly collapsing against his side, snorting in laughter as Mike stares at Lucas, offense clear on his face.
“How do you not like the Beastie Boys?” he questions, and now it’s Steve’s turn to snort.
“No one likes the Beastie Boys, Mike,” he chuckles, trying to ignore the appalled look the younger teen gives him. “It’s just what you listen to when you reach the teen rebellion phase.”
“I’m not rebellious!” Mike huffs. Steve’s sure Karen Wheeler would beg to differ.
He doesn’t want to spend the night. Joyce already has her hands full with all these kids, and he doesn’t want to add on to that, so he goes out to the car once the kids have all gone to sleep in the basement and gets his sack of presents and he’s going to leave after giving them to Hopper, but Joyce stops him, a curious look on her face.
“You’re not leaving, are you?” she questions. Steve feels awkward now, shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
“You’ve already got plenty of people spending the night, Mrs. By-“
“None of that,” she cuts him off with a wave of her hand. “You’ll have to come back tomorrow anyway if you leave, you’re having dinner with us.” Steve doesn’t remember agreeing to that, but now he doesn’t have a choice. Hopper, setting a gift under the tree, grunts in agreement.
“She’s right, kid,” he confirms as he stands straight again. “Can’t get out of this one, the kids won’t leave your door until you come back with them. It’ll be much easier on everyone if you just stay.”
And he doesn’t want to because this is their tradition, this is something they’ve been doing together for years as one large family and Steve isn’t really a part of that, so he wants to give them space, but Joyce is already dragging him back inside with the gifts, then she’s off grabbing blankets and Hopper busies him with the task of wrapping last-minute gifts until he forgets wanting to leave.
The couch is his for the night. Joyce gets him some of Jonathan’s clothes and even kisses his forehead and wishes him a merry Christmas before retreating to her room for the night. Hopper wishes him a good rest, and he understands because it’s already ass o’clock in the morning and it’s only a matter of time before those kids come barreling up the stairs to yell about their gifts. The living room is dark, aside from the gentle blinking of the string lights on the tree. It’s a silent night, indeed. He feels warm, and not just from the blankets tucked in close around him.
For the first time in three nights, Steve sleeps. He’s blissfully without dreams.
It lasts barely five hours.
The basement door is opened quite aggressively, and a cacophony of feet thud in before he hears a loud hushing sound, followed by the loudest whisper he’s ever heard.
“Dudes, Steve’s asleep!” one of the little shits hisses. Steve’s fairly sure it’s Dustin. He prays they turn around and go back downstairs for another hour or two.
“Shut up, he’s gonna hear you!” a girl’s voice hisses back, and she’s impossibly louder than the first kid – undeniably Max, Eleven would never whisper that loud. Jesus, who taught them how to whisper?
“Both of you shut up, let’s just get to the target,” a third, quieter voice butts in, and they’re just quiet enough that Steve can’t tell who it is, which tells him it’s either Mike or Will. He’s betting on Mike.
He knows what their target is. Steve takes a moment to contemplate. Either he lets them poke around the presents until Jim or Joyce come in and stop them, which will definitely result in loud protesting and a permanent end to his rest, or he can get up now and get a little bit of sympathy from at least Will for them waking him up. Either way, he’s awake now.
He hears someone poking at a box and goes with the latter.
“Aren’t you little shitheads supposed to wait for your parents?” he groans, eyes peering at the group blearily. All six of them freeze.
“Abort mission?” Lucas whispers to Mike.
“Abort mission,” Steve confirms before the other kid gets a chance, sitting up and stretching. Eleven treads silently over to the sofa and finds her way under his blanket to press into his side.
“Merry Christmas,” she hums, as if she has nothing to do with the early morning shenanigans that roused him. Will joins them on the sofa, and it’s clear the other four are trying to decide how to best fit themselves on the piece of furniture with their babysitter. It’s about to get very cramped, he realizes.
“Yeah, yeah, bah humbug,” he grumbles in reply, but no one misses his fond smile.
Joyce makes her appearance thirty minutes after that, and of all the things she expects to see on a Christmas morning, this was decidedly not it. None of the kids on the couch notice her upfront, too caught up in their giggles and hushed conversation. Steve looks tired, she notes, but he’s not as pale or tired-looking as he was yesterday. He may not be her kid, but she worries about him nevertheless as if he was. Shaking her head slightly, she pads further into the room.
“I hope you all didn’t wake Steve up,” she tells the younger teens as she reaches the sofa. Guilty looks are shared and a few mouths open in hopes of explaining themselves, but Steve beats them all to the punch.
“They didn’t,” he covers, smiling softly up at the woman. “I was up before these hellions tried getting into the presents.” Joyce doesn’t believe him, not for a second, but she leaves it alone as she leans down and gives Will and Eleven kisses on their forehead. Max gets one next, followed by a gentle ruffling of Mike’s hair because he gets fussy about kisses. Lucas smiles as he gets a kiss, and Dustin responds in kind. Even Steve gets a kiss, and he smiles in spite of his surprise.
“Thank you, for keeping them out of the presents,” she tells him as she straightens up and sways off towards the kitchen. He thinks about going to help her, but he looks at the kids sprawled out on the sofa with him and he just can’t bring himself to make them get up, so he stays put. They whisper back and forth about present predictions (Dustin makes a passive comment about some people forgetting to buy presents, Max makes a face at Steve and it takes serious effort to not laugh), and by the time Joyce returns with coffee the six are practically bouncing with restlessness. Their excitement is downright infectious, Steve feels their giddy joy in his bones, his stomach twisting in a good sort of anxiousness. Hopper shuffles in soon after, makes his way directly to the kitchen and gets himself a mug of coffee. He brings an extra one out for a very grateful Steve. Mike makes a face when the smell of caffeine reaches his nose. Lucas doesn’t have to smell it before he gets that disgusted look on his face.
“I can’t understand why you drink that stuff,” he states. Steve inhales the warm smell, sips on the drink (and he’s got to give the chief a thanks because it’s got just the right amount of cream and sugar – not too much, but just enough to take the edge off of the bitter taste), and pauses for added drama before forming his response.
“Lucas, my friend, let’s revisit this conversation when you hit nineteen.” He rests the mug on top of Eleven’s wild curls and revels in her giggled protest.
Outside, the sun is just beginning to poke through the darkness. Steve glances towards the window, watches the black sky turning into blue, and couldn’t help but feel that maybe, maybe, this Christmas isn’t going to be so bad after all.
In an attempt to distract the gaggle of children from the glistening presents under the tree, Steve finally nudges the kids off of him and makes his way to his feet, and he stretches out his body with a few, satisfying cracks in his spine. He’s getting old.
“Hey. You little gremlins want hot cocoa?”
They do, of course they do. And they follow him like a line of duckling behind their mother as Steve trudges into the kitchen. They sit in a row and happily sip on the warm drinks as the brunette then sets about making breakfast. Joyce rubs his shoulder and says he didn’t have to, but Steve is happy to do it, he likes making himself useful. Besides, he’s good at this, the kids love his pancakes. He even whips up scrambled eggs and slices of wonderfully crisp bacon. The smell draws a bleary-eyed Jonathan from his room. He looks surprised by Steve’s presence, but offers a small smile.
“Merry Christmas,” he offers, ruffling Will’s hair on his way by. He pours himself a cup of coffee, and Steve smiles back at him.
“Yeah, Merry Christmas to you too.”
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mxtantrights · 4 years
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✹   PART ONE (DAMSEL)
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HAWKINS, INDIANA
OCTOBER 28, 1983
It had been a rough adjustment for Jessie at first. Starting her junior year at an entirely new school in a new place was no easy feat. Especially when she stuck out like a sore thumb from her peers. Her hair and her skin put her on display. Even thought times have changed, it seems some people and some ideas never do.
There were always a few good ones though.
Like Jonathan Byers. And Nancy Wheeler. They were on two completely different sides of the social scale at school. It was refreshing to Jessie to see two different perspectives at least. And it wasn't the worst thing in the world.
No the worst thing in the world would probably be getting in with the popular kids just to find out that it was all just a running joke. Like some sort of movie. Now that would be awful. And Jessie would definitely not let that slide. Her older brother, Dayton, had taught her how to hold her own.
But thats a story for another time. Back to the rough adjustment  
˚ · · . · ✵ ✷
JESSIE
   ✹    ˚    .      ˚    ⋆     ⊹ .     ⋆  
I had been in Hawkins, Indiana for all of three months and the only thing that has stuck in my brain is that there are a lot of stars in our galaxy. Like a lot
What I wouldn't give to go back home to Texas. I move around the broccoli on my plate in sheer boredom. And I must have my pout out because my mom clears her throat- to get my attention she doesn't clear her throat for anything else.
I look up from my plate and she's staring at me.
"Wanna talk about your feelings instead of playing with your food?" She asks me with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Oh, did I say a hint? I meant a liter full.
I shrug my shoulders. "Just kind of bored. Theres nothing to do."
"Besides eat?" My father pipes in.
I roll my eyes and put my fork down. There was no way I was eating any more of diner tonight. Everything was boring here. Even the food tasted boring. I really just want to go back home. Back to my life.
"I could get you a job." I look at my mom with a twinge of excitement. "I was talking to this woman and she said she could use a pair of hands at her store. Her name was-, um, Joyce Byers."
My excitement peeked at that. "Oh really? How's the pay like?"
"I didn't ask that seeing as it's an invasion of privacy. But she's a single mom with two kids and it's enough to help support them." My mom explains and I take that information and put it in the back of my head. Joyce- Jonathan's mom- is a single mother.
My dad grunts a bit. His father was a single parent, and he takes automatically takes offense when anyone discredits single parents. Even though what my mother said wasn't really a discredit. You'd think it wouldn't come up a lot in conversation. But you'd be wrong. And then you'd have to listen to my father go off on a feminist rant.
It's delightful actually.
"Honey-" My mom begins however I beat her to it.
"I don't think she meant that as a bad thing. And yeah I'll take a look into the job. Anything to make this experience any less boring-" I smile at my mom and she smiles back. "How about you Mickey, anything happen today?"
Just saved us from a rant. Thank the heavens.
My little brother looks up at me and grins. "Me and my friend Will talked about D&D, he's got a party of his own with his friends. He wants me to join."
D&D. Might not be the bane of my existence but it sure comes close. However that nerdy, very very nerdy, game makes my little brother happy. So I will let it live, for now. And I will let it thrive if it makes him friends.
Wait he said Will.
As in Will Byers? Johnathan Byer's little brother?
This town is way too small. First I befriend Jonathan, then an opportunity comes up to work with his mother and now my little brother is friends with his little brother. Not to say that our small community in Texas wasn't like this, but- at least we had new cows every once in a while.
"Honey."
My dad's voice pulls me out of my head.
I look at him. "What?"
"I was asking about your classes so far. You're keeping up the grades right?"
No, Dad. I'm not keeping up with my grades.
The last test I took I actually got a c minus because I'm not paying attention in class. Why am I not paying attention in class, you ask? Oh there is a plethora of reasons but I'll just list the ones that hold the most weight. I'm missing home. I have a hard time adjusting to my subjects because they are taught differently here. I only know two people and both of them are not in any of my classes, so I can't ask them for help.
I also don't really care about my grades because it's bullshit. I'm never gonna use most of what they're teaching me because I want to be a singer. Oh yeah, that's right I'm letting you down. I don't wanna follow in Dayton's footsteps and go to college and pursue a respectable career.
I smile.
"Yeah." I put curtly.
"Good. You keep it up and colleges will be accepting you in no time."
I nod.
I'm in my Junior year. I just finished my second year of high school this June! I'm not even sure what lie to come up with when people ask me what I want to be. I'm getting tired of saying 'I'm not sure' because then everybody says back, 'well you better figure it out' or 'high school flies by, you have to know'
I know!
Sighing I push my plate away from me, looking to my parents. "May I be excused?"
My mother nods and my father grunts. As if thats an answer.
I  get out of my chair and fly up the staircase to my room. Well the replica of my room. I tried to put my things in the same place as my old room. The posters on the wall are correct. My bed near the window. But this room is a little bit smaller than my previous one. So I had to toss the nightstand in order to have space for my dresser.
It was not an upgrade.
But it did give me something in return.
I sold my nightstand to some older lady for about 150 dollars. And that with the money I made from babysitting back home, I was able to buy a guitar at the pawn shop. Of course I didn't tell my parents- it's hidden in the back of my closet.
I don't think my parents would be mad at me for buying it, not at all. But if they knew, then they'd ask if music was hobby of mine. And it is so much more than that. So much more. But I don't know if they'd actually support me in my endeavors or force me to give it up.
All I know is, Hawkins is not the place where my dreams will be crushed.
-------
(a/n): hi!! I just wanna say that this is my first time posting any of my writing on tumblr. I’ve linked my wattpad before but I’ve never actually posted in an actual text body?? (new things) so please send some love if you like. Thanks <3
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ghostspideys-moved · 4 years
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We’ll Have Tomorrow
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Chapter Nine
A/N: Alright, we’re hopping back into those fun school times, so this is going to be a ride honestly.
Word Count: 3.3k
Pairings: Steve Harrington x OC, Nancy Wheeler x Jonathan  Byers x OC (eventually)
Summary: Now that the break is over, school is back in session. But that means River has to deal with controlling her powers around lots of people.
As fun as the holidays had been, they were over just as quickly as they arrived. Not much happened on New Years, but it was fun to celebrate regardless. And not long after that was done with, school was starting up once again. 
There was still plenty of snow on the ground, which made the walk a little chilly, but not in a bad way at all. River thought it was rather nice, actually. She got cold easily, but she still loved the cold weather, but only when there was snow on the ground. Cold weather without snow just felt like a cruel joke. 
At the very least, she felt a little less alone at school now. The only friend she’d really had was Jonathan, and that was mostly when he wasn’t trying to act like a loner. Not that she blamed him, but it certainly felt better when he actually interacted with her. It was like he could forget that people actually cared about him. She might not have been the best company, but she certainly tried her best to be as decent a friend as possible. 
She also now had Steve. Now that they were better acquainted, he would sit with her at lunch every day, and he typically offered her rides back home. As of lately, he’d also started showing up early before school to drive her there. River wasn’t quite sure why, but she wasn’t complaining. The company was much appreciated. 
He’d even offered to take Hawthorne since it was only fair, but her brother turned him down, claiming he enjoyed the walk, and some alone time would be nice before dealing with the school day.
Today, she’d taken a little longer to get ready, mainly due to the added routine of feeding Rex before she was on her way out. It was still fairly cold out, so she’d found a green sweater to wear, with a regular t-shirt underneath in case she decided she was a little too warm. 
Hopper was just on his way out to work at this time. He ruffled River’s hair as she was getting ready to head out. She only hoped Steve hadn’t been waiting too long. 
Closing the door behind her, she rushed down the wooden steps, careful not to trip over her own feet. As she hopped into the passenger seat, Steve started up the car again.
“How long have you been out here?” River asked. 
He got them back on the road before answering.
“Not long. Maybe a minute or two.”
That made her feel a lot better. She’d feel bad if he’d been outside a while. She wasn’t sure why he didn’t just come in while he waited.
“Oh. Well, if you want, you can study with me later.” They had about two classes together, so it would make sense to work together, right? She also knew his grades weren’t the greatest right now, and she thought he might appreciate some help if she could offer it.
“I will definitely take you up on that offer,” he said. “My dad’s really been on my ass about how bad some of my grades are, and I have to keep them up to stay eligible for basketball.”
She’d almost forgotten he played basketball. “Well, it’s probably not nearly as quiet at my place than yours, but we can probably get a lot done,” she added. “I’m sure I can come up with a system for you to retain enough information. I’ve been doing the same for Hawthorne. He sucks at math.”
“I can guarantee you, I’m nowhere near as smart as you two are. You guys are, like, super good at a lot of things, and I’m pretty dumb, actually.”
River gave him a stern look and hit his arm. “You are not!”
“I have like two F’s and a D. I think that’s proof enough.”
“And what are the rest of your grades.” Steve thought for a moment. “Mostly C’s, but just barely,” he admitted. “I seriously need some help.” He sounded almost defeated, and it really made her feel bad for ever thinking he was an idiot. 
“Well, now you have me, and I’m going to make sure you don’t fail. You deserve that much,” she claimed. And she was going to stick to that, because she was not going to let him hold himself back.
As they pulled into the parking lot, she gave him a reassuring smile and got out of the car. He smiled back, seeming to feel a little better about the situation.
Thankfully, they had science together during their first hour, so she could get a head start on helping him. Science in general was her best subject, and it had been for as long as she could really remember. 
It hadn’t really been easy helping him through the assignments. Steve was very easily confused, so she had to find roundabout ways of explaining the harder concepts.
Luckily, the actual labs seemed to go a lot better. From what she could tell, he learned a lot better when he saw what was happening. River made a mental note of that, keeping it in mind for their study session later.
Despite some slight setbacks, they made it through the lab just fine. That wasn’t counting Steve wanting to play with some of the equipment, of course. Not that she could blame him, with how easily distracted she was, so it would only be hypocritical.
Once class was over, he offered to walk her to her next class. Sometimes, she had to lean against him a little walking in the halls. Her leg had healed considerably in the last few months, but every now and then, too  much walking was still uncomfortable. Plus, for the most part, she had done as much walking except maybe walking Rex a little every now and then. It was probably good for both of them.
With Steve’s help, River made it to class okay. She took her seat, mostly zoning out as class was starting. She sometimes had a hard time focusing in class, but for some reason it was a lot worse right now. The worst part was, she could hear some of the other students’ thoughts buzzing in her head. Normally, she had a decent control over that kind of thing, but it was always a lot harder in school. Maintaining a power like that could get a lot more difficult with so many students in one room. Even worse was probably that this was her biggest class today. She often had headaches after this class.
It was annoying trying so hard to block everyone out. And for the most part, she did okay, but it was overwhelming more than anything. She really hated how loud some people’s thoughts could be. 
Feeling fed up with having to deal with how disorienting this whole issue was, she raised her hand and asked to be excused to the bathroom. 
The second she was free, she snuck outside, heading out the field where the bleachers sat. She huffed and sat down, her head in her hands as she tried to concentrate again. Centering herself—even grounding herself in reality, in the here and now—often made her feel a lot better. 
And it was working for the most part.
River felt like she wouldn’t be able to sit through the rest of the school day at this point. She was still a little too worked up right now. On the other hand, she didn’t want to be alone either. Having one person around might be nice. 
For a moment, she contemplated trying to get her brother to ditch with her, but she knew a lot of his classes were really important to him, and she didn’t want him to risk missing anything for her. The same could probably be said for Steve, but of the two, he’d probably be much more willing to ditch than Hawthorne.
Having decided that much, she decided maybe the best way to get his attention was to try using her powers to reach him. Maybe this wasn’t a great idea after she’d just had a little bit of a freak out, but it was the least risky method she had right now.
Taking a deep breath and concentrating, she did her best to project her thoughts to him, hoping he could hear her.
Steve? If you can hear me, I need you to meet at the bleachers.
There was a pause, and she almost thought maybe it hadn’t worked. 
Yeah, give me a minute and I’ll be there.
She sighed in relief and sat back while she was waiting. It was still slightly chilly out, so she hugged herself, rubbing her arms to stay at least a little warm. 
After a few minutes, Steve came out, quickly making his way up to the top of the bleachers where she was sitting alone. He took the steps two at a time and planted himself next to her. 
“You okay?” he asked, looking her over to make sure nothing was physically wrong with her. He sighed in relief when he found nothing, relaxing as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. That didn’t worry him much less, though.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Mostly, anyways.” 
He nodded, not really pressing forward until she was ready.
“I just got a little bit of a headache. It’s not great being able to hear everything people are thinking all the time,” she explained. 
“But you can control that, right?”
“Mostly,” she said. “It’s harder around a bunch of people. That’s why I hate being here sometimes.” 
Steve nodded, not really understanding, but he got the gist of it.
“I guess that makes sense.” He noticed when she shivered a little, even with the sweater that was definitely bigger than her. He didn’t hesitate to take off his jacket and throw it over her shoulders. “Geez, you’re gonna get sick like this, Matthews.”
River rolled her eyes and pulled the jacket tighter around her. 
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying each other’s company. Steve fumbled for something in his pocket before pulling out the pack of cigarettes he hid sometimes. He pulled one out, placing it between his lips before lighting it. 
River watched him curiously for a moment. “I didn’t know you smoke,” she said.
Steve shrugged. “Sometimes, yeah.” He was considerate enough to blow the smoke where it wouldn’t reach it. “Do you?” he asked.
“A few times I’ve stolen some from my dad,” she admitted. “He smokes a lot.”
She frowned a little at the memory, and he was quick to change the subject. 
“You want one?” 
He held the box to her, and she hesitated a moment before taking one. He lit it for her and they sat back, trying to relax for now. 
Admittedly, this was nice having some company. And maybe having Steve as a friend wasn’t so bad. If he even considered her a friend. She sure thought of him that way at this point. Maybe things started off rough, but she hardly thought they would be doing anything like this if they weren’t friends. 
The bell rang, sounding a lot more distant from out here. Everyone would be heading to lunch right now. 
It was then that Steve put out his cigarette and turned to her. “How about we actually ditch?” he proposed. “Instead of just sitting around here like a bunch of delinquents.” 
The grin on his face made her laugh a little. She put out her cigarette and nodded. “Yeah, I like the sound of that.”
Steve got up, leading her out to his car. He opened the car door for her before going around to the driver’s seat. He started up the car, and River stared out the window, wondering where on earth he was even taking her.
She sat back and absentmindedly listened to whatever music he had playing (Queen, it sounded like), watching the outside world pass by in a blur.
It took her a moment to realize they were pulling up in front of the diner not far from Hawkins High. If there was food involved, she definitely wasn’t complaining. They got out of the car and found a seat in the back.
While they were waiting for their food, River drank a cup of coffee, feeling a little better now that they were away from the constant buzz of school and teenagers. 
“So, are we still on for studying later?” Steve asked. “If you’re feeling better, that is.”
River nodded, setting the cup down. “Yeah, I think I’ll be fine,” she said. “We can study in my room, that way no one should really bother us.”
That stupid grin made an appearance again, and he wiggled his eyebrows a little. “Ah. You mean so we can ‘study’?” 
She groaned and rolled her eyes. “No, you know we’re actually studying.”
“I’m just saying. If at any point we just stopped studying-okay, ow. I’m kidding.” He rubbed his shoulder where she hit him. 
“Steve, no.”
“I’m just pushing your buttons, I promise.” Steve shook his head. “You hit harder than I thought you would.”
“We are studying, and that is it, Harrington,” River warned, giving him a serious look.
He sighed. “I know, okay? You’re my friend, and I wouldn’t do that to you. That and Hopper scares me.”
There that word was. Friend. It was enough confirmation for her to at least know where they stood right now, which admittedly made her feel a little hopeful knowing she had a friend. At least, one more friend than she’d started off with. 
Which reminded her.
“Shit, I’m gonna have to ask Jonathan for notes later,” she mumbled.
“Oh yeah, you guys have math together, right?”
River nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay at math, but it’s a lot easier keeping up with notes.”
After a moment, their food arrived, and they thanked the waitress before continuing.
“You can just ask him tomorrow, right?” Steve asked.
“Yeah, I’ll have to. I can catch him before first period tomorrow, so it shouldn’t be too hard.”
“How’s he doing?” Steve spoke cautiously, quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear anything they shouldn’t. “You know, after...after what happened with Will.”
River sighed, thinking for a moment. “From what I can tell? Fine, mostly. They’re still worried about the poor kid, but I think Jonathan is trying to give him some room to breathe,” she said. “Will’s been through a lot, and Ms. Byers is already watching him like a hawk, so I doubt he’d feel much better with Jonathan fretting over him, too.”
He nodded in understanding. Will really went through a lot, so neither of them could really blame him for wanting just a little space here and there. 
River sat back, eating a few of her fries. “How about Dustin?” she asked. “I know they were planning on getting a new cat before I left.”
“Yeah, Dustin finally told his mom Mr. Mews probably just ran away, and she was definitely torn about it,” he said. “But she’s better, and they just got a new cat the other day, actually. I think they named him Tews.”
She hummed, taking a quick drink. “I kinda feel bad about lying, but I guess it would be a lot worse finding out your cat got eaten,” she said sullenly. 
“It sucks, but that’s just how it has to be.”
River knew he was right, but Claudia Henderson was possibly one of the nicest people she’d ever met, and she couldn’t help the heart wrenching guilt she felt knowing what really happened. But if there was anything she knew, it was that the truther could be more harsh than feeding someone white lies to spare them. If Mrs. Henderson deserved anything, it was at least some peace of mind that, for all she knew, Mr. Mews could still be out there living his life.
Or maybe not, but what did she really know about that kind of thing? She hadn’t had Rex long, but she supposed she might feel terrible if he’d run away.
“Yeah, I guess so. At least she has Tews now, so I guess it could be worse.’
Steve nodded. They ate in silence until he tried to steal one of her fries, which happened more then once.
“Steve!”
“What? Hey, I’m paying for lunch, so I feel like this is justified. It’s just one.”
River raised an eyebrow. “And the last three were just one?”
“Exactly. Glad you understand.”
She swatted his hand when he tried again, and he tried to pull a pouty face, but it didn’t do much for him. 
“Steve, you have your own food.”
“Please? Look, I’ll let you take half of my onion rings.” He scooted his plate over, giving her another pleading look. “That’s fair compensation, right? More than fair even.”
River sighed, shaking her head. “Fine, you dork.” Steve grinned and stole a few more fries. At this point, they ended up sharing most of their food, not that either of them were really complaining.
As soon as they were done, Steve paid for lunch and left a decent tip before he dragged her away again. They certainly had some time to kill before school would officially be over.
~
Later, after dinner, River and Steve head to her room to get started on some homework. When Hopper asked about school, they both made up something believable, knowing he would be a little upset to know that they skipped. Maybe he’d be little understanding knowing the circumstances, and it wasn’t like he had room to talk. River already knew he didn’t have the best track record in school, so she wouldn’t have hesitated to mention it. But, thankfully he seemed to buy it just fine.
Now that they had some peace and quiet, she was trying her best to help Steve with whatever homework he was struggling with. Which was a good portion of it.
And if there was anything she noticed, it was that Steve wasn’t stupid. He just needed some assistance every now and then, and once he got the hang of things, he had an easy enough time figuring things out on his own from there. 
Steve was typically pretty confident, but he seemed to hold the belief that he wasn’t smart, and she wasn’t standing for that. 
In fact, she made a few diagrams and flashcards, and she made him go through them twice. The first time, he missed a few, but by the second round, he got the hang of it.
“See? I told you that you could do it,” she said.
He smiled and shrugged. “Well, I have a pretty great teacher.”
Admittedly, she felt her face grow warm at the compliment. 
“If you keep this up, I think your grades will go up in no time,” she said. “And then you won’t have to worry about basketball.”
Steve smiled brightly, writing down a few things on his worksheet. He paused for a moment before looking back up at her.
“Speaking of, I actually have my last basketball game coming up in about two weeks.” He rubbed the back of his neck, stumbling over his words a little. “I mean, that is, if you wanted to come.”
River couldn’t help but laugh a little at how nervous he seemed, though she couldn’t imagine why. It wasn’t like she’d say no.
She nodded. “Yeah, I don’t see why not.”
He sighed in relief. “Okay, good. I know you don’t really know anything about basketball, but it would be nice to have someone there.”
“Hey, don’t worry. I know fuck-all about it, but after everything you’ve done for me, I would be stupid not to go support you.” Steve smiled, and it might have been the most genuine expression she’d seen from him so far.
“Thanks.” The look between them lingered for a little longer than it probably should have.
He cleared his throat and turned to his paper again. “So, um, what about this one?” he asked, pointing to the next question.
//
Taglist: @bravest-at-heart @musicalytrashpanda @queenofthehairharrington​
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usual-day-dreamer · 4 years
Text
Let Me Touch Your Fire (Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader) Chapter Twelve
A/N: So, this story is almost over and I want to thank everyone that supports it! Also, the last chapter will be smut so you’ve been warned. Please enjoy and thanks for reading, I’m working with a short Obi-Wan story, I’ll post it as soon as I can and I hope you enjoy that too.
MASTERLIST
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Steve was shaking as Dustin ran towards the ambulance. Robin and Erica quickly catching up with Steve.
"Steve, are you okay?" Robin asked, he broke down completely, his sobbing answering her question as he shook uncontrollably, his hands hiding his eyes, embarrassed by the tears running freely down his face. Robin hugged and Erica just stood there awkwardly patting his back.
Soon, Hopper was standing next to him with the rest of the party. Joyce looked worriedly at him, Will safely hugging her side.
"Hey kid" Steve looked up at him, his hair messy, his eyes red and puffy "What happened?"
Steve tried to explain but his sobs interrupted, El decided to explain for him.
"She saved me" She said, her voice loud enough for them to hear "And Billy" Hopper looked behind them, Billy and Max were inside another ambulance.
"Let's all go to the hospital" Hopper decided and everyone followed behind him.
*
Dustin cried into his hands, his sobs filling the quiet room as he waited for any news. He was afraid, and he felt lonely.
He looked up and closed his eyes with a sigh, he was tired, but he couldn't sleep now, not until he knew you were fine.
Running footsteps alerted him and he stood up quickly, gasping when someone tackled him on a hug, it was Steve. He returned the hug just as tightly as he sobbed, he could feel Steve doing the same. Robin appeared and joined the hug, and soon the rest of the party, except for Joyce and Hopper.
Sam Owens appeared as soon as he heard Hopper's voice. "How're the kids?" He asked, Joyce standing next to her.
"The Hargrove kid is just fine, any sign of the creature on his body are gone, he's stable and he'll be able to leave in minutes"
"What about Henderson?"
"The doctors stopped the bleeding and stabilized her but she need to go someplace safe, the press may appear here and we need to keep all this hidden, it is still unknown if she is infected or not but we have to move fast"
Hopper nodded and turned to Joyce and called for Murray, Nancy and Jonathan. They walked towards him ready to follow his orders "We have a small problem"
"She's stable but she can't stay here much longer, there's also a chance she might me infected but we still don't know, we have to move her someplace safe, any ideas?"
"What about your cabin?" Murray asked
"It's destroyed" Nancy answered
"She can stay over at my place while we rebuild your cabin, I think it's better for her to stay away from civilization but while that happens my house is available"
They agreed, Jonathan and Nancy walked towards the kids to tell them the plan while Hopper, Joyce and Murray arranged the hospital scape with Owens.
Once inside Joyce's house, they laid Y/N on Jonathan's bed and the paramedics walked out. Joyce thanked them and they closed the door again.
"What am I going to tell my mom?" Dustin's voice broke the silence.
"We can tell her she's staying over at my house, we used to be very close when we were younger" Robin offered "We'll go pick some fresh clothes tomorrow and I can help Joyce take care of her"
"Meanwhile the rest of us will rebuild the cabin tomorrow morning so it can be ready as soon as possible" Hopper added.
"Your parents know you are here?" Joyce asked
"Yeah" all the kids answered, and Joyce stood up "I'll go get blankets for everyone" Hopper walked with her to help her. They came back shortly after and handed everyone a sleeping bag, blankets and pillows.
They moved the tables so everyone could fit on the floor, not really in the mood to sleep in separate rooms.
"I'll sleep today with Y/N in case she wakes up" everyone watched Joyce walk towards her room in silence and as soon as she disappeared the light went off and everyone dozed off rapidly.
*
The sun shined brightly through the curtains as you opened your eyes, wincing slightly in discomfort while your vision adjusted. You looked around the unfamiliar room as the events of last night came back to you.
You sat up rapidly, grunting in pain and hugging yourself to make the pain go away.
"Easy there" soft hands grabbed your hands and placed them next to you.
"Mrs. Byers?" You said as she pushed you back towards the bed.
"You need to rest; you were beaten up really badly"
"Where am I?"
"At my house, breakfast will be ready soon"
You looked at the clock hanging on the wall next to you, 9:15 it read.
"Where is my brother?"
"They are helping Hopper rebuild his cabin, you'll stay there while you recover" A soft knock made Joyce stand up and you smiled as Robin walked inside with a tray in her hands, she was still wearing her uniform.
Her eyes and smile were bright when she saw you, you could see tears forming in her eyes, but she fought to keep them at bay.
"I would hug you right now but I don't want to hurt you" she said and grabbed your hand instead, giving it a gentle squeeze "Steve's still crying his eyes out for you, you know?" You blushed and smiled a laugh leaving your lips as you sipped your juice.
El and Max appeared, Max quickly making her way towards you "Thank you so much for saving my brother, he's a lot better now and he's still with me" she said "Thank you"
You smiled at her; your throat was so dry you couldn't speak. El smiled at you warmly and you retuned it. Joyce came back with a tray in her hands "Breakfast is ready" she smiled at you as she placed the tray on your lap.
"Thanks" you took a bite of the pancake and sighed, you finished the rest of your breakfast and thanked Joyce again.
"Is Dustin coming back soon?" you asked
"I don't know, maybe they'll be back before dinner" Robin asked "Are you okay? You seem a little pale"
You nodded "I'm fine, I'm just really tired"
"Sleep for a bit okay? I'll be right here"
After Robin said that, you closed your eyes.
When Robin was sure you were completely asleep, she walked out.
"Is she asleep?" Joyce asked from the sofa, Robin sat next to her "Yeah, but I think something's off"
"Why?"
"She's really pale, she..." she paused for a second looking for the right words "Doesn't look like herself"
"Don't worry sweetie, she'll come back after a few days"
"I hope so"
You did not wake up for the rest of the day, when the boys came back, Steve and Dustin went to your room to check how you were doing only to find you were still asleep.
One week has already passed, and for Robin you weren't getting any better, you slept all the time, ate less, she was really starting to worry. Hopper's cabin was ready, and she was trying to wake you up to walk you towards Hopper's car, but it was impossible.
"Is she awake already?" Hopper asked from the door.
"No, maybe you should carry her" Hopper grunted but walked towards you, smoothly picking you up and walking towards his car, once he placed you inside, he waited for Robin and Joyce and then drove off.
Robin looked worriedly at you, she placed your head on her lap and stroke your hair, your sleep did not seemed peaceful at all, your eyes were tightly shut and your breathing was ragged, maybe you were having a nightmare or you we just in pain.
A sudden stop made her look out the window, she looked at the kids waiting at the door and saw Steve walking rapidly towards them. He opened the door.
"She's still asleep" Robin noticed the disappointment in his eyes and for a moment she was hesitant to let him carry you inside. She stepped outside and watched Steve carefully pick you up, after that, she walked behind them just to make sure you were okay.
"I'm still going to stay with her" Robin said, all eyes looking at her.
"Do you think you can handle it?" Joyce asked her and she nodded.
"Okay then, I guess you two will stay here, call if there is an emergency" Hopper said.
"I'll bring you two food every day" Joyce added.
"And I'll visit every day" Dustin said with a sad smile.
"I'll take good care of her, I promise" Robin answered placing her hand on Dustin's shoulder as comfort, he smiled and walked out with his friends.
"Promise you'll call me if something's wrong"
Robin rolled her eyes playfully "Aye, aye captain Steve" she said with a laugh. Steve smiled and walked behind Dustin. Hopper and Joyce followed, now she was alone with you.
The salt was dark, and Robin felt like crying, she was desperate, you weren't awake, you looked beaten up.
"Come on Y/N wake up, you gotta eat" she watched you stirred, and you finally opened your eyes, they were red, as if you've been crying for hours.
You forcefully took the spoon, immediately throwing up inside the trash can next to your bed.
Robin placed the soup away and pulled your hair out of the way, she noticed in amazement how it wasn't food, it was something black and she swore it moved for a second.
Once you were done you later down again and closed your eyes, your breathing slow, Robin panicked for a second because she thought you weren't breathing, until she inched closed to your face. She stood up in relief and put on her pajamas, laying down next to you, falling asleep a few minutes later.
*
It's been two days since Steve saw you, he could feel something was wrong, but he didn't have the heart to say it to anyone. Dark thought clouded his mind as he drove towards Dustin's house to pick him up. When he finally arrived, he calmed down and walked towards the door, before he could knock, Dustin already opened the door.
"I'm ready" he walked towards Steve's car quickly and he followed him, once inside he drove off towards Hopper's. The ride was filled with uncomfortable silence and Steve felt like crying. He was just about to speak when Dustin began.
"I know you love my sister" Steve blushed hard, never taking his eyes off the road.
"I don't-"
"Don't deny it, I've seen the way you look at her and I know you are sad too" he said and Steve kept quiet, letting Dustin continue "I just want you to know that it's okay, she feels the same, you both deserve, my sister has suffered a lot since my dad took her away and honestly-"
"Dustin, even if your sister does feel the same way about me, there's no way we'll be together, she just came back, and I feel like I'm taking her away from you. And we have no guarantee that she'll... that..." tears fell again from his eyes and he cursed at himself, he was supposed to stay strong for Dustin.
"Steve..." Dustin said softly "Stop the car" he did as tell; they were on the road at the forest so there was no chance another car would pass by. As soon as the car stopped, he covered his face in shame.
"You don't have to be strong for me"
"It's my fault..." Steve whispered "I promised I'd protect her and now she's... she's..."
Dustin grabbed his hands and uncovered his face "Listen, it is not your fault, you hear me? She decided to save them, you couldn't do anything to change her mind"
Steve whimpered, he tried to look anywhere but Dustin's eyes as silence engulfed them for a few seconds.
"We won't lose her, Steve" Steve net Dustin's eyes "She's way too stubborn and strong for that"
They laughed and Steve turned back to the road, wiping away the start tears on his face.
"Let's not keep her waiting them" Dustin genuinely smiled and nodded, turning the volume of the radio up.
*
Robin walked back into your room, sadly looking at the untouched food tray next to your bed. You were soundly asleep, but Robin decided that maybe if you showered, you'd feel better. She could not see any sign of improvement in you as days passed.
She moved the hair out of your face and smiled softly, the sun peeking through the curtains made your messy hair seem brighter and your skin paler than usual made the dark circles under your eyes stand out; you looked really sick but still just as Robin remembered, beautiful.
She shook your arm gently, watching you stir a little, she shook you again and you slowly opened your eyes, blinking to adjust to the light in the room.
"Come on" her voice was soft as she spoke "I'll help you shower" you sat up and she helped you stand up. Slowly making your way towards the bathroom, your whole-body aching and you winced a little with every step you made.
You sat down as Robin prepared the shower, she turned to you while the water heated "Arms up" she instructed, and you lazily pulled up your arms. Robin struggled at first but as soon as the shirt was out of the way she left it on the floor, gasping as she saw your body, the wound was purple, almost black and your whole chest and front was covered in weird veins, she stared at you in shock
"Robin I don't feel so good" your voice was barely above a whisper, the bathroom getting hotter due to the water and you closed your eyes "Turn it off!" you screamed and Robin quickly turned off the shower, you were crying when she looked back at you again "Tell him to stop" you pleaded "It hurts so much, he wants to kill us"
Something on your wound moved and you screamed in pain.
"Robin?"
"Steve! Call Hopper!" she heard quick footsteps running around before Dustin appeared
"What's wrong?"
Your eyes closed and your body felt limply into Robin's arms.
"Shit" Robin looked up at Dustin as Steve ran to the bathroom.
"They are on their way" he walked towards the robe and handed it to Robin, she put it around you.
"Help me carry her Steve" Steve did as tell, carrying you and walking behind Robin towards the small living room of the cabin.
"Let's place her on the table"
"Wouldn't it be better to place her on something more comfortable?" Dustin said, watching Robin put everything everything that was on top of the table somewhere else, shooting Dustin a glare he quickly helped her.
Steve waited, looking down at your pale face, you seemed almost lifeless and Steve was terrified, as soon as Dustin and Robin finished, he placed you on top of the table carefully.
Not long after that, the rest of the party busted in.
"What happened?" Joyce talked first, everyone right behind her as they circled the table.
"I don't know, I was going to help her shower when suddenly her whole body was green, and she could not stand the heat, so she fainted"
Worried looks were exchanged, everyone seemed to know what was happening, except her.
"Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?!"
"Remember when Eleven had something on her leg?" Jonathan started, Robin nodded "Y/N has that thing too, we need to take it out"
Robin nodded again, untying your robe and showing the wound, but there was no trace of any creature, the wound was closed.
"What are we gonna do?" she asked.
"Maybe I can help" Eleven offered. Everyone started getting what they needed so Eleven could see what was happening. Once everything was ready, she placed the tie around her eyes and breathed deeply.
Everyone was looking at her and waited patiently.
She gasped loudly and took off the tie, cleaning the blood on her nose as she tried to catch her breath.
"She has to take it out by herself" Eleven said, all eyes on her as she spoke "She needs to fight for her life"
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willel · 4 years
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Random Season 4 Wishes
Here is a random list of things I want to see in season 4 in no particular order. Some of these are more like predictions than wishes, but at this point, any prediction made is just a wish. 
A break from all out romance. The romance wasn’t really handled all that great last season. Other than the looming monster danger, it was the forefront of season 3. I would like a return to a season 1/season 2 formula where while there is still romance, it is never the focus. Stranger Things excels with subtle tender moments and meaningful physical contact. 
Character growth over character drama. Another issue season 3 had is too much conflict between character. Hardly any of it really contributed to character growth. The only character growth to be seen is Mike being a little less clingy and El being a little more independent. Nothing else noticeably changed, not on screen. Conflict is important... but it should be pushing our character forward, not locking them in place. 
Recapture the importance of family. Our cast has been divided in two. The Byers + El are somewhere new while the others stayed behind in Hawkins. This leaves an excellent opportunity to revisit old threads long forgotten. I would love to see Nancy and Mike actually interacting. Not just one conversation or exchanging a glance. Full out brother and sister duo. I feel similarly about Jonathan with his own family. I would like to see a plot where all the Byers + El are in it together. 
Return of Kali. Kali, I feel, is a very important piece of El. While season 3 would have us forget her influence of El, I hope next season doesn’t completely ignore her presence. It would be interesting if Kali’s prediction comes true, that no matter where she hides or who she’s with, “they” will never let her live in peace or have a normal life. Not because I want harm to come to El, but because I don’t for a second believe the government is done with her or the other experimented children.
Proper strategist Michael Wheeler and proper action man Lucas Sinclair. I would like to see the return of the strategist Mike who always seems to have a plan and can get everyone on the same page. In season 3, he was fumbling around distracted. I feel normally, Mike would have set a trap for the Mind Flayer or would’ve formulated a proper plan to escape the mall or the cabin. In Lucas’s case, they did ok with him in season 3 actually, but it was really out of character for him to freeze up while El was being choked out. I want to see a more forward athletic Lucas. 
Will to make new friends. In season 3, we saw at least 2 of the 4 boys interests changing drastically and the other was all too eager to go off and hang around new people. Given Will’s situation (new town, new house, new school, distant old friends), I’d like to see Will gain some new friendships. That’s not to say he’d drop the old ones. They’re the OG after all. But, before all the drama of next season picks up, it would be nice to see Will being happy and acknowledged by new friends.
US Government becoming a threat again. Personally, I did not enjoy the Russian plot. Everything seemed like a joke. When the US government were the bad guys, everything felt more dangerous and dire. You never knew who was listening. Who was watching. What would happen if they found El or if they would hurt the boys and their families. Next season, I feel they could make the Russians feel like as much of a threat as the US government if both governments are clashing and in a race to the bottom. By that, I mean the government should become a major foe again racing against the Russian government to do bad things. Open a gate? Control a demogorgon? Allow the Mind Flayer in again? Both these governments should screw up equally. 
A slow return of El’s powers. I want El to get her powers back, but I want it to be a slow daunting process. It’s like she starts back at square one. She can move and pick up small things, but even that has taken her months. She’s stuck between being seemingly normal with no powers, but also missing the power she once had. 
Casual power training. As we know, Will is really into comics. El might be too since Max introduced her to them. A classic of comics is the super hero training to regain their strength or to become stronger. It would be really interesting if Will contributed to El slowly regaining her powers by setting up obstacles and challenges just for her. Maybe on the weekends, he designs a building and she must use wooden blocks/legos to make it with her powers. Or, build a house of cards. A game of darts using powers only. A game of catch. (I was going to say Jenga, but it looks like that didn’t get released in the US until 1987) Anything Will can creatively come up with that he thinks will help her regain her strength. (whether it does or not is up for debate) It’s mostly casual fun. Some bonding opportunities. Who doesn’t enjoy training the hero/super hero? (basically, it’s roleplay) 
Will’s power expanded. I am writing a proper theory page on Will’s/the Byers’s powers, but let me explain exactly what I mean here. It’s clear Will has powers, but they severely limited them in season 3. Examples:
Instead of only sensing the Mind Flayer when it’s nearby, he should be able to close his eyes, concentrate, and locate the center of activity
Will should have great insight into the Mind Flayer’s intentions even if it’s just honest guesses on what the Mind Flayer wants and what he’s trying to do (like in season 2)
Will’s danger senses should happen immediately, not delayed like we saw in the hospital or in the mall. He should be able to tell the Mind Flayer is coming for them from miles away or even across dimensions.
Will should retain true sight, the ability to see into the Upside Down. A dangerous ability to be sure, but can be useful if we’re going to have gates popping in and out around the world like what’s been implied.
Karen possibly discovering the truth. Honestly, Season 1 Karen is such a good mom. And in season 3, that discussion with Nancy was superb and beautiful. I would love for Karen to learn a little more what her two eldest kids have been up to. If not that, I’d like for her to at least give more guidance to her kids. I’d like for Nancy and Mike to vaguely come to her for advice and she’d grant it, no questions asked. (ok, Karen used to be very nosy so maybe she does ask questions, but takes a step back and respects their privacy)
Joyce to be believed right away. I honestly do not understand why people doubt Joyce, you know? She’s been right 3 years in a row now (Nancy too). I swear if anyone questions her intuition next season, she should give them her classic Joyce sneer until they realize how silly they’re being. In order of “alarm bells”, I think it will go like Will >> El >> Joyce >> Jonathan in quick succession. All 4 family members should be very sensitive to weird things as this point. 
Jonathan gets a plot. I want to see things from Jonathan’s perspective again. After season 1, we’ve barely gotten anything. I want to see Jonathan putting forth plans or leading the charge, at least for a little while. There is a great opportunity for this next season since he’s the man of the house about to graduate from high school if he hasn’t already. (*sobs remembering Will is taller than him now, officially). Heck, if we want to switch around the order of “alarm bells”, maybe Jonathan becomes alert of something wrong before Joyce does this time. 
Less product placement. In season 1/season 2, there was product placement, but that was because they were really setting the scene. It was 1983. This is what products used to be like. This is what was popular at the time. But season 3? They cranked that dial up 2000% when they didn’t need to. It really made it feel less serious and set in reality. Don’t dare use Lucas to spit out a damned Coke ad ever again. 
Genuine friendship moments. I’ve mentioned this earlier, but with less romantic drama and stuff, I’d like to see genuine friendships return. The El and Max friendship was great and all, but it’s really a shame it was so heavily focused on Mike. I hope in the future, these two girls are able to share screentime without the boys being mentioned or thought about. Same with the guys, it would be nice if they could hang out like before without splitting off into pairs or focusing entirely on their romantic lives. They don’t really feel like a friend group anymore, just a group of double dates (hence why I’d like for Will to make friends outside the original group.)
Proper use of the supernatural. Season 3 was weak when it came to the Mind Flesher imo. They had this whole idea of the Flayed who seemed to be totally normal (and sweaty) just walking around town living their lives until a flip was switched. Whyyyyy in the world weren’t they used to try to get at our cast? The only time they did it was in the hospital, but we saw dozens and dozens of people who could’ve served the same purpose except it could happen anywhere. Maybe there were other ‘patients’ in the waiting room that also turned on the kids that they had to fight off? Maybe strange people came to all their houses trying to find them or break in? They could’ve gone full creepy like season 1/2 but they didn’t. I’d like to see them fully use the horror aspects next season. 
That’s what I got off the top of my head. 
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maximoff-pan · 5 years
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Déjà Vu | Steve Harrington x Byers!Reader
Summary: When you found out about your pregnancy, you knew you couldn’t tell Steve. Now you’ve broken up with him. He thinks it’s because you don’t love him. You know it’s because you love him too much....But what happens when he can’t accept that you don’t love him? What happens when he calls you out on your lie?
Character: Steve Harrington
Word Count: 1280
Warnings: Pregnancy, lots of angst
A/n: okay so, I don’t really know what this is, but I really hope you guys like it.....
Read Part 2: here
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“You don’t love me?” Steve’s voice cracks as your heart shatters.
They’re the same words he spoke to Nancy the night he’d gotten his heart broken for the first time, and it all comes flooding back. It feels like déjà vu, and he’s struggling to think. His heart feels heavy, and his mind, it’s like a cluster of madness.
“You...you don’t love me?” He repeats it again, as if trying to grasp the reality that is once again repeating itself.
It feels like a slap in the face, and he’s screaming at himself: Not again. This cannot be happening again.
“I’m sorry Steve. I just, don’t.” You know that you’re lying straight to his face, but you don’t know if he can see that. His face contorts into pure sadness and you can see the tears begin to fall down his cheeks. The wind blows harshly between you, and all you want to do is go back inside your house and curl up on the couch and cry.
“How can you say that? After everything we’ve been through?” His voice is so broken and you can’t hold his gaze. Why won’t he just get in his car and leave?
“I just, this....us,” you correct yourself, gesturing between the two of you, “it was all too much. I was in love with the idea of being in love, and I can’t keep leading you on like that.”
“You’re lying.” His voice is like a whisper. “You’re lying!” This time it’s louder and you can visibly see him hit a breaking point. “You can’t just fake love like that, you can’t. And you can’t tell me you love me and then take it all back. That’s not how it works!”
You both pause for a moment, and the silence is torture. You’re sure your mom can hear you from inside, maybe Jonathan too, but you hope they can’t. You take in his appearance; he looks absolutely destroyed. His eyes are red and watery, and his hair is a mess. It’s almost too difficult knowing that you’re the cause of his pain. But that doesn’t stop you from trying to break his heart before he breaks yours first.
“What do you want me to say Steve?” Your voice raises right along with his. “I don’t love you anymore. I don’t think I ever did.”
That stings him more than he thought it could. “You never loved me?”
“I’m sorry.” You try to soften your voice.
“Bullshit.” He spits. “Your apology is bullshit. And apparently, our entire relationship was bullshit too!”
It hurts you to lie to him. It hurts you to hurt him, but after everything, you can’t stay with him. The trauma of almost dying, more than once, it causes you to feel doubts in your relationship. It was easier when you were just friends, but now that you’d crossed that line of more than friends, you couldn’t go back, and now you were too deeply in love with him.
Near death had put everything into perspective for you. You wouldn’t be able to survive if something happened to Steve, so to keep your heart from breaking beyond repair, and to keep your baby safe, you knew it was better to distance yourself from him. That way, you wouldn’t be risking the chance of loving him, him loving you back, and losing him. With your pregnancy, you couldn’t risk losing him.
It wasn’t losing him to death that scared you. Yes, that would be horrifying and it would certainly hurt you terribly, but it was losing him because he didn’t want to stay that would hurt you more. Your mind was constantly reeling. What if I told him and he left? What if I told him and he didn’t want the baby? Those thoughts are what drove you to this decision.
Sure, it may seem like a rash decision to break up with the one person you love more than anything, just to protect yourself from losing them, but you can’t help it. So far, your life has become decently dangerous, and you wouldn’t risk being able to stay with Steve if it meant he was potentially in danger.
With a baby on the way, he would have to give up everything, and you couldn’t do that to him. You wanted him to be able to decide what he wanted to do with his future, but every time you went to tell him about your pregnancy, your insecurities held you back. Maybe he would want the baby, and maybe he would be upset that you didn’t tell him, but once your insecurities got the better of you, it was as if you had tunnel vision.
“Don’t do this to me (Y/n).” He pleads, breaking the silence. The weight on your chest increases, and you want to tell him how much you love him, but the words won’t come out. “Please tell me everything we had is not all a lie.”
“I’m sorry Steve.” You try to make your voice sound as emotionless as possible, hoping maybe that will discourage him. “I can’t, because then I’d be lying to you.”
“You’re saying that a lot you know?” He grits his teeth in frustration.
“What?”
“Sorry.” He replies.
“Well I feel it.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be.” He lets out a breath he’d been holding. “That might make it easier.”
Your resolve is beginning to fall. You don’t know how much more of this you can take before you completely break down. You eyes drift towards his and you know that it was a mistake to make eye contact with him. He looks so broken, but can he see how broken you are? Does he know you’re lying to him?
“I can’t help feeling sorry Steve.”
He lets out a sarcastic laugh at that. “Just like you couldn’t help not loving me?”
“That’s too far Steve.” The atmosphere is becoming more hostile and less desperate. “I don’t know what else to tell you!”
“For starters, you could tell me that you love me.” He shouts.
“You know I can’t do that.” Your stare is deep and piercing. “That wouldn’t be right.”
He’s giving up. You can see it. He’s just running in circles, and he’s not getting what he wants out of you, and he’s losing his will to fight with you, for you.
“I just,” He runs his hand through his hair and lets out this laugh that’s filled with utter sorrow, “it must be a family thing.”
“What?” You ask on the verge of tears, and he laughs again.
“The Byers are really great at breaking my heart.” He gives you this look that you just can’t handle. “You know, first it was Jonathan. He and Nancy....seeing them together, it was really hard. But then I fell in love with you, and everything didn’t seem so bleak. And now...it’s like I’m right back where I was the night Nancy broke up with me. Except it’s worse, because I really felt that you loved me.”
“Steve.” You let the tears fall. “Please don’t make this any harder.”
Steve thought he’d known true heart break before, but standing in your driveway, not quite ready to walk away from you, he knows he hasn’t until this moment. “I guess I was wrong.”
You watch him turn away from you as he begins to walk to his car. You watch him get in and drive away without one last glance back at you. You want to scream. You need to cry, but you don’t. You only stand there, feeling the wind blow past you as you whisper, “I’m sorry,” and one last time say, “I love you.”
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okaybutlikeimagine · 5 years
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Imagine Joyce comforting Billy? Like Billy misses his mom so much, and he opens up to Joyce and she just kind of holds him and let’s him cry on her shoulder? And no offense to Steve, but Joyce is the Number One Mom, hands down.
okay 1. I 100% agree. Love Steve dearly, but Joyce is just the Best Mom Ever
2. aLRIGHT my friend @imdeaddear2 and I were talking about how Joyce is basically a Miracle Worker Mother. Not to put her on a pedestal or anything but I love her w/ all of my heart and i just headcanon her as being so Healing for Billy. Like that one scene from Lilo and Stitch where Lilo puts the little lei on Stitch and he just falls over in total calm??? That’s Joyce and Billy. Like Joyce is able to just put a calming hand on Billy’s shoulder and asks what’s up and he just melts into Soft Boy BillyTM  who’s like: Well now that you mention it, it all started when I was 7 years old…
aNYWAY legit Joyce calms Billy down like No Other and I really mean that. Like, even hanging around with Steve doesn’t calm Billy down as fully and consistently as Joyce using her Mom Powers on him does. And i like to think he used to be SUPER formal with Joyce. Always calling her Mrs. Byers and being almost a little cold but uber respectful with her bc this boy was trained to do that. Ever since his mom left his life and Susan entered it, the idea of a mother was gone and the image of a woman he’s obligated to be-nice-to-or-else entered. He was forced to be on his very best behavior, to be ‘picture perfect son’ around her, bc if not then he was being “disrespectful”. And that’s absolutely all he can think about when he’s around Joyce at the first. He turns on the Good Respectful Boy schtick without even trying because that’s what he thinks he needs to do to keep himself safe.
And you bet Joyce hates it with her entire being. She can sense it’s a defense mechanism but 1. It hurts her heart to think about that and 2. It makes her incredibly uncomfortable to be called Mrs. Byers all the time. To constantly have doors held open for her. To basically not be allowed to lift a finger bc Billy is always there saying “Oh, I’ve got the dishes”, “Oh, no, I can make dinner”, “Oh, no, I’ll clean that up.”
And she can just see how tense Billy is about it too and that’s probably the worst part for her. It doesn’t matter what he’ll be doing or what she’ll be doing, the second he sees her, he’s on edge. He straightens his back out and bows his head a bit and turns into this weird shell of who he actually is and it’s heartbreaking to her. Like he’s been trained for this and the reality is he has.
And i dunno how often people talk about this but i really truly feel like Joyce would absolutely love Billy. Like she thinks the real Billy is a very good kid who’s funny and well-intentioned and smart. Hop says he’s a brat but Joyce thinks he’s just got a sassy sort of confidence. Billy may never admit it himself, but he’s very kind hearted. It’s evident in the way he treats El and Will and Jonathan. In the way that he acts when he’s with Steve. In the way that he banters with Hop. He’s just such a good kid who gets such a bad rap and it’s not fair to her. She hears the way people in the street whisper about him when he walks by. She sees the way women will touch him completely unsolicited. She just wants to fold him into a hug and help him.
And eventually she’s able to and it’s so lovely!! Bc Billy is happy for Jonathan and Will that they’ve been able to have a mother like this their whole lives but also holy shit, he’s so fucking jealous. And he doesn’t necessarily feel bad about it, he just feels upset. He feels it bubble up inside of him uncomfortably. He watches the way she interacts w/ them and every day it’s a reminder that he fucking lost that. Lost any chance at that. Lost any chance at a mother at all bc it’s so hard at this point for him to believe that he even deserves one and so he’s lashing out and he’s yelling at Hop and he’s being a brat and Hop has had absolutely enough and when Billy leaves, Hopper goes to Joyce like: “I don’t even know what to do half the time. He won’t listen to me and he won’t talk and I don’t think I’m ever going to get through to him.”
And Joyce has been asked so many questions about Billy and has noticed so many things about Billy that the next time she sees him and he starts to act up and talk back a bit more venomously and Hop starts to get a little more hotheaded, she’s asking if it’s alright if they can go outside to talk. Her and Billy. And he’s still a little stiff, still a little cold, but he’s also fuming with irritation and Joyce can tell and they sit down on the little furniture outside and she asks:
“Would you like to talk, hun?”
Billy shakes his head, mouth tight and eyes tight and shoulders tight.
She gives him a gentle smile.
“We don’t have to talk about what’s upsetting you. We can talk about anything you want. We can just… talk.”
And Billy…… is confused as all hell.
Bc Hop always tries to get right down to the source, is always trying to shrink him, so he doesn’t understand this. He doesn’t understand the… small talk.
He gives her a strange look. He can’t help it. He’s trying to evaluate the reason behind this. She looks to him innocently and gives a small smile.
“Alright?” He responds, voice dubious.
“What would you like to talk about?”
“I have no idea.”
Joyce hums for a second before she’s saying-
“Tell me about your favorite peanut butter.”
And Billy huffs out a laugh, looking her in absolute disbelief.
“Wha-? You wanna talk about peanut butter?”
She laughs a little and nods.
“Yeah, Hop says you have a favorite type of peanut butter. I wanna hear about it.”
And Billy is laughing disbelievingly now, overcome with nervous huffs of air but Joyce just looks at him with amusement.
“I’m serious! Tell me about it.”
Billy shakes his head. Tells her about how he’s always loved crunchy peanut butter. She asks why and he furrows his brow in confusion before he explains he just likes the texture. As a kid he always preferred crunchy things over softer things. He’s always hated applesauce. He says that his mother used to tell him that he would reach for her solid food whenever she would try to feed him baby food. He gets really quiet by the end of his sentence, shies away from the subject of his mother, shrinks a bit.
So Joyce asks him about his car. How long he’s had it? How fast does it go? Billy kind of chuckles again at how silly these conversations are, but he’s less nervous about it. He explains his car, how it goes pretty fast. a little too fast for Hop and Will. how his dad gave it to him to hold over his head.
And he doesn’t know why he says it. He doesn’t know why he mentions his parents at all. But there’s something about Joyce’s kind eyes and the way she looks at him not like he’s broken or injured but like he’s safe.
He stutters around his sentences, spitting out more and more about his parents like something’s pulling it out of him. He’s breathing harder.
Joyce puts a hand on his knee and rubs her thumb on it gently.
Motherly.
It’s alien. It feels dramatic to think that but it is. The last time he had someone to call “mom” was so long ago. Was laced with fear and anxiety and near mourning.
And now here’s someone who’s willingly stepping into that role. She’s purposefully inviting Billy into her life and treating him like he’s one of her children. She didn’t adopt Billy, she has no legal attachment, she could be just like Susan and treat him like a dangerous animal that she has to be nervous of… but she doesn’t. She gives him the same kind eyes she gives Will when he’s had a rough day at school and tells him it’s alright.
“Whatever you wanna talk about, you can talk about. I’m here to listen.”
Billy takes a deep breath.
“If it’s serious or silly, I’ll listen no matter what.” She adds.
Billy wrings his hands a bit.
“I just…  it fucking blows.”
“What does, honey?”
“Everything. Thinking about everything. Going out and knowing… knowing I might see him.” Billy feels the hot weight of tears in his eyes. “And… and… I don’t know. Other stuff.”
“What other stuff?”
“Stuff like… like…” Billy feels his chest tighten up, like someone’s winding it up with a key. “You’re… so good with Will. And El. And I… Why are you so fucking nice to me?”
“Oh hun. Because I care about you.”
“Yeah sure but why?”
“Why wouldn’t I, honey?”
“Because not even my own fucking mother cared enough to- not even my own mother stuck around. And I just… I don’t get it. I’m an asshole-”
“Stop that.”
“It’s true-”
“No it’s not. You’re a good kid. You’re a good, smart kid and you’re so kind to Will and Jonathan and I can’t thank you enough for that.”
“I bother them constantly.”
“You talk to them and laugh with them and protect them from bullies!”
Billy pauses.
“Those little punks told you that?”
Joyce laughs. “Yeah. I kind of forced it out of them, but yeah.”
Billy shakes his head. “Why would I let them get bullied they’re my brothers now.”
“Exactly.” She gives rubs her thumb on his knee again. “So… I can be your mom then, right?”
Billy starts shaking a bit.
“I… I guess so.” He says, heavy tears weighing his eyes again.
Joyce smiles warmly, tears watering her eyes as well as she hugs him. She feels Billy’s chest heave a little every now and then. She holds him in a hug until they’re gone.
(And i just had to put this before Jim and Joyce get married bc NOW we need to think about Billy being one of the kids to dance w/ Joyce at Jopper’s wedding bc ♥♥♥♥!!!!!!!!! THAT’S A BEAUTIFUL THING!!!)
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robinskey · 5 years
Text
Steve x Nancy’s Childhood Friend! Reader (pt 2)
Part One
A/N:  Yay! A second part! I considered rewriting this without bullet points but ultimately decided to leave it as-is. If you’d prefer a story format, let me know, and I can do that for the next part. :) Happy reading.
Warnings: Spoilers for the first two seasons.
After the Steve/Jonathan fight, you start to suspect there might be something between Jonathan and Nancy
She assures you that it’s nothing
And it’s not exactly the best time to investigate
Your friend is a little preoccupied right now
You know, dealing with her other best friend’s disappearance
Eventually
Everything more or less returns to normal
Before long, Nancy reconciles with Steve
Slowly, you start to adjust to the sight of your friend draped around Steve Harrington
And around the time you get used to it
They break up again
Not actually because of Jonathan
But because Steve’s an inconsiderate birdbrain
And also Nancy doesn’t love him
But you focus more on the first reason
Because it’s a great reason to egg his house again
Nancy begs you not to do it this time
She doesn’t give you a concrete reason why
She just says the situation is a lot more complicated than you know
“What’s complicated, Nance? Steve the Jerk is being a jerk.”
“Well, yeah, but…there are other reasons, too.”
“Like what? Your thing with Jonathan?”
“I don’t have a thing with Jonathan, Y/N.”
“You don’t have a thing with him yet, you mean.”
Nancy throws a pillow at your head
You’re able to dodge it
But you won’t be able to dodge all the chaos that’s coming your way
Just like you predicted, Nancy and Jonathan start spending a lot more time together after she ends things with Steve
Like, a lot more time together
You’ll go over to the Wheelers’ to hang out, and Karen will answer the door with a perplexed look on her face
“Nancy’s not here right now, Y/N. I think she’s with the Byers boy.”
“Oh, um…okay. Could you just let her know I stopped by?”
Nancy stops returning your calls
Finally, one day, you finally catch her at lunch
She and Jonathan are sitting in the back of the cafeteria, heads bent together, whispering about something
“Hey, Nance”
Her head snaps up, doe eyes glittering with apprehension
“Oh, hey, Y/N. What’s-what’s up?”
There are pictures spread out in front of them. Jonathan frantically sweeps them towards him with his arms.
“I, um…I was just going to ask if you wanted to hang out tonight”
Nancy’s gaze shifts to the dirty cafeteria tile as she slowly shakes her head 
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I can’t today. Jonathan and I have this…uh…science project due tomorrow.”
Having known Nancy Wheeler nearly all your life, you know when she’s lying
But you also know when there’s no way in heck she’s about to fess up
So you just sort of nod and pivot on your heel
As soon as you turn around, you lock eyes with the exact boy you never thought you’d catch staring at you
But the moment your gaze meets his, he looks away
You find yourself a dark corner of the cafeteria
Where you nibble on your ham sandwich
And try to convince yourself that it had just been a fluke
For the rest of the day, you’re lost in your ponderings
And by the time you realize the final bell has rung, the classroom is already empty
Unsurprisingly, you miss the bus
It’s a little chilly
But it’s not like you have any other choice
So you decide to walk
You’re barely off the school grounds when a black BMW 733i pulls up next to the sidewalk
You watch in shock as the passenger window rolls down to reveal Steve Harrington in the driver’s seat
“Hey, you’re Nancy’s friend, right? Need a ride?”
Goosebumps have started to form on your bare arms, and your lips feel a little numb, but you’re not that desperate
You yank one strap of your backpack up higher on your shoulder and march onward
“I promise I don’t bite. Come on, you’ve got a long walk ahead of you,” he continues, rolling the car along at a few miles per hour to keep up with your pace
“Not interested, Steve, but thanks for the offer”
There’s a grand pause, the only sounds coming from the crooning singer on Steve’s radio and the twinkling giggles of schoolgirls playing in a nearby yard
And then
“Please, Y/N?” 
Hearing your name tumble from King Steve’s lips gives you pause
“If I get in that car, and that’s a big IF,” you say, “you take me directly to my house without trying any funny business, you drop me off, and that’s it. I don’t owe you any favors or anything”
Steve shifts the car into park, unbuckles his seatbelt, and leans over as far as he can. He extends his arm, which is long enough for the tips of his fingers to make it out the window
You cross your arms over your chest, a deep frown creasing your face
“What is that?”
“It’s a handshake. A promise to not try any-what did you call it? ‘Funny business,’“ he says
You take a cautious step toward the vehicle, half-expecting Steve to yell “Psych!”, step on the gas pedal, and speed away. He doesn’t
“Come on, Y/N. If you stand out there much longer, you’re going to get frostbite, and I don’t think I have enough gas in this thing to drive you to the hospital”
You scoff-as if King Steve would waste his precious time making such a peasant received proper health care-but still grasp Steve’s outstretched hand with your own
Your inner thirteen-year-old is squealing over the fact that you’re basically holding hands with Steve Harrington
And you just freeze like that
Until Harrington goes, “Hello! Earth to Y/N!”
You drop his hand like a hot potato, whip open the car door, and hop into the front seat
And suddenly, you’re riding in Steve Harrington’s BMW
Get it together, Y/N. It’s just a ride home…
…with your best friend’s ex
“Pick whatever music you want,” he says
Your fingers hover over the knobs, itching to turn to a new station. But they’re all so shiny, so new-just like everything else in this dang car. You’ve never seen a teenage boy with such pristine possessions
Then again, the car probably wasn’t his to wreck-you were sure it was bought with Daddy’s money
For a while, you ride along in silence
Watching as the world whirs past
As he drives, Steve lightly taps the steering wheel to the beat of the music and hums along to the melody
It’s clear he’s trying to fill the void left by the lack of conversation
“So, um…how are you?” Steve asks in a bit of a sing-song voice
You peer at him out of the corner of your eye
You can tell he’s trying incredibly hard to act nonchalant
And it’s honestly disturbing
“Okay, okay. We don’t have to talk. That’s cool”
He stops speaking, but his noise-making will never cease
Steve cranks up the radio, and his light humming gradually evolves (devolves?) into belting out the lyrics to We Built This City
It’s utterly ridiculous, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing
Seven minutes later, Steve finally pulls into your driveway
He doesn’t even have to ask which house is yours. When you wonder aloud how he remembered, he shrugs
“You’re Nancy’s best friend”
The mention of Nancy rubs a sensitive spot
Steve watches your carefree expression morph into a deep frown
“Hey, um-I know the bus is awful. Not that I’ve ever ridden the bus, of course-but I’ve heard the horror stories”
He pauses as your face contorts again into a squint of confusion. You clearly don’t know where he’s going with this
To be fair, he doesn’t, either
“What I’m trying to tell you, I guess-is that if you ever need a ride home again, or if you ever want me to pick you up in the morning, let me know”
You eye him suspiciously as you unbuckle your seatbelt
“What’s the catch?”
“No catch”
When you hear this, your arms instantly return to their criss-cross position across your chest
“What?” he asks. His free hand runs through his infamous dark locks. “You said no funny business”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually listen”
“I’m a much better listener than you might think, Y/N”
You gaze at him for several long seconds
It’s certainly suspicious that he’s being so nice to you
But honestly, if it gets you off that stupid bus, you don’t care
“Fine,” you huff, popping open the passenger door and hopping out
You sling your bag across your shoulder and look back at Steve
“Be here at 7:30 tomorrow morning-not a minute later”
You can tell he’s surprised by the way his pupils suddenly dilate, then contract
But he doesn’t say anything-just raises his hand in a mock-salute
“Aye aye, Captain”
You watch as the BMW speeds off
Trying to ignore the pit forming in the bottom of your stomach
What have you done?
Tag list: @irreplaceable-ecstasy
If you want to be added to the tag list for this series/my writing in general, leave a reply or send me a message! Thanks again for reading. <3
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Time After Time (The Eighties Blasts Collection, Part 1.)
Description: Jim Hopper died as a hero. But with that, one certain problem rises up - who will now lead the cops of Hawkins? Hopper thought of that - he decided to write a letter, naming his niece, nineteen-year-old student of Indianapolis police academy, Y/N Hopper as a sheriff deputy in a letter. But anybody in the town doesn't have a clue that being a cop in Hawkins is way more dangerous than it might seem.
NOTICE: This is an AU where Hopper had a brother which he doesn’t talk to, but still has a great relationship with his niece (more like father-daughter relationship). Nothing else would be changed.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Hopper!Reader (eventually) - the story is more driven by the relationships in the gang.
A/N: Every chapter will probably be named after one ICONIC 80s song because I am trash for them. Also, I will call Johnathan John bcs I am sick of writing such a long name over and over again.
Warnings: Grief, losing a loved one, bad family background for the reader, Will, Johnathan and Joyce leaving Hawkins.
Word count: 3.7 K (Sorry guys, I had fun)
Tagging: x
Master list: The Eighties Blast Collection
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Try to ask your parents about living in the '80s. Or no, you don't have to ask them at all - they would definitely tell you that it was way easier, better and safer back then. Maybe they would be right if you don't remind them about Doug Clark and Carol Bundy for example. Serial killers aren't such things in our age.
But there was one particular town in Indiana where it wasn't exactly a pleasure to live during the '80s. There was like... Everything from novels and movies had happened there - strange disappearances of children, mutates crawling from another dimension, possessed shirtless white boy with a mullet running around, kidnapping people and basically killing the; even murders bated by U.S. government and experiments on people.
It was a true science-fiction to say at least. 
What was the town’s name? Hawkins. Hawkins, Indiana with a population of thirty thousand people - may be more or less, nobody exactly knew since such a crazy shit was happening out there.
Your beloved uncle Jim, to which you went every holiday for the whole two months, has lived there since forever, except for his rather short time in New York - and you found your way to love the city as well. The people there were always the same - same shopkeepers, same employees in the restaurants, same stores and groceries. You dreamt about working alongside Jim since you were just a little kid. While other girls wanted to be princesses and astronauts, you just wanted to be a cop.
So it hit you when you were in your room at the police academy, listening to George Michael and read a magazine, laying down on the bed. At your nineteen, you were one of the best cadets that ever got into the police academy before reaching the age of 21. Jim was so proud that he cried when you called him.
But when the sergeant who led your training called your name through the silent halls, you knew that something had to happen. And when you sat down behind the desk, looking her in the face, you knew it isn't anything nice. 
And when she told you, oh boy, you couldn't but chuckle unbelievably. No, you weren't happy or amused with what sergeant Brown told you - but you couldn't believe it. 
“Jim Hopper is dead? Is it... For sure? That must be a mistake. You're shitting me right now.” - You told her, not even caring about the rule not to curse around your authorities. And Mrs. Brown fully understood what you're going through at the moment, so she didn't say a word about that. Your breath stuck in your throat as you got up to walk around the room. 
“Miss Hopper, I can tell you for certain that I am not joking.” - The woman on the opposite side of the table looked you in the eyes. - “I am sorry for your loss, yet Mrs. Byers sent us an official document where Jim Hopper named you his deputy sheriff, signed and stamped two weeks ago.” - She took the document out of the envelope and looked you in the eyes, putting it in front of himself so she could read from it.
“But I’m too young to be a deputy.” - You mumbled and took the document seriously naming you to the function into your fingers, reading it word after word. Jim was looking forward to having you by his side as a cop - so when he learned about the Russians in a facility below Star Court, he wrote two letters and one document - one for Eleven, a girl who he adopted and you liked, one letter addressed to you and a document naming you the deputy, so he was sure that the Hawkins city is in good hands when he's gone. You never saw the letter though. 
Only the official document made it. 
“And we do acknowledge that. You're too young, you haven't even finished your studies, Miss Hopper, this is a rather unpleasant and special situation. And for that, we will transfer you to an academy nearby Hawkins, so you can finish your training there while you will be helping at the police department.” - Mrs. Brown smiled at you a bit. - “We also acknowledge that you loved your uncle and to continue with his legacy means everything to you. Hawkins department is out of policemen anyway.” 
---
So it was done. Your grief over Jim was deep and it took too long for you to acknowledge that he won’t come to his cabin hidden in the woods a small while from the big oak next to the road to Denfield, just fifteen minutes away from Hawkins. 
When you told the locals about the cabin, it was in a horrendous state - the windows were missing, there were holes in the ceiling, the door were broken apart and... It was a hellhole. It needed a lot of repairing and almost everything was broken inside, including almost all of the furniture, but you managed somehow. 
Especially the broken windows and broken ceiling would cost a fortune if there wasn't for the good people of Hawkins who collected money and old, non-used things from their homes. They started one month before you came so it was almost done when you were about to roll into the town - but you could do the rest by yourself.
You let Hopper's old armchair just in the place where it always was, in his trail, and you left El’s room untouched as well, you only cleaned it up. People from the town were helping you with the renovations by all kinds of small gifts, ranging from canned and normal food to shampoo, helping you paint and paper it from the inside, giving you their old equipment like the TV or a refrigerator, even a VHS player. 
On the day when you came back to Hawkins in an old Chevy from the 70s’, with all your things packed in boxes stored in your car’s trunk, you immediately went to Joyce’s house. Joyce was something like your auntie - you, Nancy Wheeler, her son Jonathan and Steve Herrington always played by the woods she had behind their house. She always made you the best cupcakes, played with you, talked to you and when you were too caught up in playing, she called you to have lemonade or some snacks - but that was too long ago for you to even properly remember.
You remembered only small bits from your evenings at the Byers' house, but the feeling of Joyce is a nice, calm and sweet person always remained inside your head.
Once, all of you were only kids and you were in Hawkins only for two to three weeks every summer - so, naturally, your friendships with the old party didn't exactly last in the form it was ten years ago. All of you got into puberty and since you were studying the police academy, getting there after the senior year of your high school, you didn't really hear much about any of them. 
Plus, after you left Hawkins, you found yourself new friends in New York, so... It was no wonder, really. Everyone was just living their life the best way they could.
Although, when you heard that Joyce and her boys are you about to leave Hawkins for Maine, you tried to speed everything up only to tell her your goodbye before she actually goes away. When you got out of the car, 99 Luftballons by Nena practically screaming from Chevy's radio, you could only see a half-full moving truck and a load of kids out there. 
At least, you weren't that late, were you?
You could recall some of them - like Eleven, a girl living with Jim who you got to know the spring of 84’ when you got released for a weekend lasting holiday to celebrate Jim’s birthday. She was cool as fuck, having some kind of psionic abilities. Jim almost killed both of you when he found out that she had shown you some tricks, but you found that extremely cool. You two had built a pretty good and strong connection over the course of your visits at Hopper's.
You were able to recall Mike Wheeler and Will Byers as well since you knew their siblings - and these boys just couldn't be more similar to Jon and Nance. But there were a few kids you didn't have a single idea who they might be.
“I’m here to help. But I’m late, I guess.” - You leaned into the doorframe and smiled a bit at Joyce’s back. She was running around the whole house cluelessly and tried to pack while the others were doing the actual job. She looked at you standing there in an old flannel shirt and cool jeans which can be bought only in cities or big malls. You looked... Certainly not happy, tired, your eyes red from crying, but good and fine as hell. - “Guess you can say that I am a Hopper, right?” - You smiled as she walked to you to give you a tight, motherly hug, humming into your ear. 
“You are so big now. I remember you barely reaching my waist, darling.” - She cracked up a bit and you were almost sure that she is about to cry - and if she would, you would be a crying mess as well. You cried almost the whole way to Indiana. You just stopped yourself to cry again? Oh, boy. 
“That happens over time. Guess Jonathan isn't the smallest nor youngest now as well, huh?” - You joked, walking to one of the boxed in the hallway. Just with that, Jon accompanied by Nancy walked into the doorframe, holding another two boxes.
“Someone left a started truck outside and is playing pop blasts... Y/N?” - Jonathan asked unbelievably when you turned around to face him. He looked tired as hell just by the looks, but he still sorta got his rebellious expression, just as you were used to. And Nancy? She was breathtaking now. You almost jumped at both of them to hug them firmly with a giggle. 
The old party was getting back together. 
“I can't believe you're here!” - Nancy laughed to your ear. Both of them had the best childhood memories from the times you were there - like jamming to literally every ABBA or the Rolling Stones song, riding bikes through the neighborhood and just the best fourth of July festivals. - “Also, I'm so sorry about...” 
“I know, I know. It would be nice if you stop reminding me.” - You answered a bit louder than you plan to, so Nancy just shuts up. You were immediately apologizing, but she shook her head with her typical Wheeler smile. She totally got what you’re feeling at the moment, it wasn't even your fault really.
“Wow. I haven’t seen you since... Forever.” - Jonathan took your shoulder to his palm and smiled at you. - “I wish we could just sit down, have a cup of tea and talk about what is going on now.” - Nance agreed with him, leaving you in the hall with panicking Joyce; until another person came by.
“Is that... Is that you?” - A fourteen-year-old girl came there in an old shirt which you knew that belonged to Jim. You immediately softened when you saw the teenager, kneeling down and opening your arms for her. You closed your eyes as El leaned to you and hugged you tightly. 
“Yeah. I know.” - You mumbled into the crook of her neck quietly, letting her put her head on your shoulder as both your palms smoothed her back and her ponytail. She was such a baby girl since the day uncle Jim introduced the two of you. - “Listen up, baby. Let's get moving with the packing. You can introduce me to your friends and your boyfriend, sounds good?” - You got up, drying off her tears as you tried not to cry as well. You needed to make you both occupied.
“I would appreciate if you'd help the boys with Will’s room.” - Joyce looked at the both of you with her hands on her hips. - “Not that I don’t believe them, but I am afraid that Will’s and the other children’s packaging skills aren't exactly on point, if you know what I mean.” 
99 Luftballons subtly changed to Take On Me by A-Ha as it continued to blast through the quiet neighborhood. You and Eleven walked to Will’s room just as Joyce asked you to, leaving Nancy and Jonathan as they were.
And oh boy, there was a kind of war between four boys and a redhead girl going on, tees of every color were flying everywhere as they laughed and ran throughout the back of that house. It made you smile, wishing you could just join along. They were so young and careless and you loved it.
But as soon as they noticed you, an adult standing in the doorframe alongside El, they hid the tees and pants behind their backs and only whispers and giggling could be heard. 
“Joyce was right.” - You stepped in, picking up the clothes from the ground while looking at Will. His haircut wasn't the best and he looking alike Jon when he was a small boy. - “You guys can't pack clothes for shit.” - You mumbled as you watched every one of them.
The redhead watched you without a clue who you could be, but the others knew your face. Not too well, but they had definitely seen you around a few times before. 
“This is Y/N, Hop’s niece.” - El pointed at you and the redhead nodded. Any of the teenagers couldn't understand how could you be related to Hopper in any way - he was the old douche, probably ugly, fat and a really unpleasant person most of the time. But you were young, pretty and seemed to be a really chill person. 
“These are my friends.” - She pointed at the redhead and a boy alongside her. - ”Max and Lucas.” - She pointed at Will and Mike who you knew. - “Mike and Will.” - And then she pointed at a boy with curly hair who was smiling at you and to be honest, scaring you like shit. - “And this is Dustin.” 
“So, who’s the lucky one?” - You smirked at El and the way Mike’s cheeks reddened, you knew that he’s the one. She smiled at you without giving you a proper answer. 
You somehow managed to make the kids pack the things before dismantling the furniture in Will’s room with Jonathan’s help. You two were left alone as the others started to move all the boxes into the truck, having quite the space to talk. 
“So you and Nancy, eh?” - You smiled at him wickedly when you started to dismantle the bed. - “Or was I dreaming?” 
“Yeah. You haven't been in the town for a while. A lot of things have changed.” - Johnathan chuckled in response and handled you the wrench you needed. You rose your eyebrows. 
“You could at least call me. Would that be such a problem, mister Byers?” - You teased back and finally took the head of the bed out. 
“We thought you’re too busy living your best city life and forgot about the villagers. Hopper was updating us about your wellbeing pretty well. Heard you got to ILEA? He was proud as hell.” - Jonathan smiled. 
Yeah. Uncle Jim was the most supportive person on the whole planet when it came to you or El. You were both his little baby girls - and if someone tried to fuck your dreams up, he would be a literal pain in their ass. So, naturally, he spread the news about you studying on ILEA to everyone he actually listened to him. Joyce and Karen Wheeler were throwing with pride, lemme tell you. 
“Yeah. I got to Indianapolis, but they transferred me to the midwest since I have my new job here.” - You sighed and helped him with the wood from the side of the bed. - “Gonna study in a program of correspondence course while having my practicum here. Hawkins is apparently in need of fresh cops.”
“No way you're going to be the sheriff. That would make Hop so proud.” - Jonathan smiled at you softly and you smiled back at him. 
“He actually planned on me being the deputy. You really don't have many cops here, eh? Taking in a person who had barely finished their studies? Joke's on you.” - You started to dismantle the wooden legs off the sides. You and Jonathan were actually a good team when it came to manual work.
“We do have cops. But Hopper was the only one who wasn't bribed and actually done his damn job.” - Jon looked at you for a small while. You will be a good cop. He could feel it.
“It will be quite a change from Indianapolis.” - You sighed with a shy smile.
“I was wondering what you’re doing in the evening?” - Jonathan asked all of a sudden, his question followed by your furrowed face. - “We’ll be gone, but I don't want Nancy to be alone. If you want to... Accompany her, I will be glad.” 
“Oh, sure. If she would like to, no problem. We can borrow some VHS tapes to watch movies in the evening or whatever. Mrs. Wheeler gave me their old player.” - You nodded. There was one question which was making you furrow, so you leaned over to Jonathan, making him stop the work, quietly touching his shoulder. 
“I need to ask you something. It’s pretty... Personal to me.” - You exhaled loudly and your body shook completely on its own. 
You were all emotional about Jim passing away and even if it was more than a month since you got the news, you still fought the urge to cry. You tried to shake it off as Jonathan caught your palm in his as well. - “How did uncle Jim die? Nobody wants to tell me, they only told me that he had passed away. Was he shot? Or...” - You curled into a ball and closed your eyes. Jonathan looked around the room and gulped.
You didn't have to know this. You didn't need to know any of this. He wasn't feeling good at that moment and you could feel it. He didn't want to give you an answer, because he somehow felt that it would only hurt you even more.
“All I will tell you is that Hopper died like a real hero. That man might be a pain in everyone's ass, but he sacrificed everything to save the others. He saved all of us and I think that he saved everyone in this town. But if I would tell you, you would think that I’m crazy.” - Jon said quietly, interrupted by Joyce standing in the door. She clearly didn't hear much, since she didn't have any idea you even asked about Hopper. She was smiling, as usual, and she was really glad that the bed was dismantled.
“Oh, honey.” - She kneeled down to you and Jonathan, nuzzling you to her side, ruffling your hair, kissing the temple of your head gently. She was a true mom to everyone - even for a girl that spent only two months in Hawkins during the summer holiday. Even to a girl she hadn't seen in years.
She was something you never had, so you leaned into the touch of her small, warm palms, calming words and slow, caressing movements. Then you sat back up, smiling at her, drying your tears off.
“Can you get it to the truck?” - Joyce looked at Jonathan as he stood up. He nodded without any further thinking. 
“I need to give Y/N something. I talked to El and we agreed on it.” - She smoothed your cheek and kissed the other one tenderly. So, you followed her thought the empty house, thinking about your memories.
You could name the exact spot where Steve almost killed himself when he jumped off Jonathan’s bed onto the heating, hitting his forehead into the heater. You could exactly see their old sofa where you braided Nancy’s hair and you could say where the dinner table always stood. Hopper always sat there while he drank coffee with Joyce and her man. Lonnie was really fine... At times, before he left. He was a douchebag overall, though. 
The sweet memories made you smile again until you approached the gang consisting of children only standing there in a circle with Eleven in the middle, holding a box named ’HOPPER’ in big, dark green letters. It was almost like a cult initiation. You were sure it was one.
“I want you to have it.” - El said quietly and put the box on the ground, opening it. It was an old police uniform; the one which belonged to Hopper. It was dirty and smelled pretty bad, still having his sheriff’s badge on it. You took the shirt into your palms, caressing it between your fingers as other tears rolled down your cheeks. Then you looked at El. 
“Are you sure, baby girl?” - You asked and tried to contain your emotions as everyone was watching you with a sad face. El slowly gulped, getting on her knees as well, but then she nodded. She looked happy at that moment, contained with happy memories at Hopper.
“She wanted to keep it, but wouldn’t be for too much on use since it would only lay in the cabinet. You can wear it for work. Maybe it is too big for you and you will definitely need to wash it, but it has your name on it already, see?” - Joyce pointed at the small golden badge with Hopper on it in black letters. You leaned your head into her shoulder. A true legacy. - “I know he would want you to keep it. It will look good on you after you wash it.” 
“If you say so, Joyce.” - You smiled a bit, taking the box from El’s hands, fetching it into the trunk of your car. You stayed there until the very end, looking at the kids saying their last goodbyes. It made you cry as well, it was so sweet. 
Even Joyce hide behind the truck to have a little moment to herself. She hated when she saw her boys or their friends sad and crying. Joyce Byers was just the most amazing woman and mom you had ever met.
Even if you didn't expect it at all, you got hugs as well. The one from Will was a shy, quick one with that shy boy’s smile painted on his lips. Jonathan couldn't be as much different from his brother as he was - this boy held you firmly for a few seconds, he actually hugged you so tight you couldn't breathe for a second and screamed loudly with laughter. 
“Better watch it here or I will come back and kick your ass.” - He said jokingly, patting your shoulder. You opened your mouth and laughed too, hitting him gently as well. - “Sure. Keep on dreaming, Byers, because that's not going to happen.” - You patted his shoulder as well, bringing him in for one last quick hug - then you left him, so he could say goodbye to Nancy.
Eleven came to you after she kissed the soul out of Mike’s tall and slim body - she hugged you tightly. You maybe weren't exactly the closest, but you were something like sisters from one point of view. 
That was the magic Jim Hopper could do when he wanted to. He was bringing people together. He brought El and Mike so close he couldn't stand him anymore. But your bond would make him happy.
“If something, you can always call me.” - You looked her in the eyes as she continued crying. She was such a lovely girl. - “I know you would rather talk to Max, but I’m here too. I’ll be waiting for a call at Hop’s old number, okay?” - You asked and she nodded, unable to speak in words. But her tears were giving you an idea of what the was feeling. 
“And we repaired your old room. You will be always welcomed in that house.” - You kissed her forehead, snuggling her closer again. 
When they were leaving, you stood there with Nancy and the remaining kids, watching the cars leave, not even waving. Most of you were still crying your eyes out, so you were too dazzled to actually say goodbye. Just minutes after the cars disappeared, you looked at Nancy. 
“Need a ride home? The kids are taking the bikes apparently.” - You asked and took the keys to your car out of your pocket. Nancy nodded, smiling at you with the typical Wheeler smile. - “Also, if you want to, you can stay the night at my place. You would feel less alone and the cabin would feel less scary.” - You smiled at her when you both were sitting in the car. 
“I guess so. It would be fine to talk to you after such a long time. I miss our summer adventures.” -  Nancy said shyly and you stopped yourself from starting the car, looking her in the eyes, holding the steering wheel in your palms. 
“I do too. So, off to the supermarket and VHS store it is, I guess.” - You looked into the mirror showing you the space behind the car and started the old Chevy’s motor. 
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collecting-stories · 5 years
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The Dating Game 2 - Jonathan Byers
It’s Thanksgiving time and Jonathan is starting to question his feelings. 
The Dating Game 1 2 - Jonathan Byers x reader
November 20th 1984
“My dad’s family does this big shindig at our house every year. Tons of food, it’s really something.” Steve mentioned when you asked about his upcoming holiday plans. He was sprawled out on the la-z-boy in the basement, playing you in a competitive back and forth game of tetris.  
“Sounds nice, my dad’ll probably just work that day. Maybe somebody at the office will give him a can of cranberries or something.” You shrug. After everything that had happened following Halloween, not including your odd relationship status with both Jonathan Byers and Steve Harrington, you were trying to bring some normality back into your life. Things seemed to be better between Steve and Nancy, not great, not dating again, but better than Tina’s Halloween party. She wasn’t screaming bullshit at him anymore. But she was hanging around Jonathan more and more these days and you were hanging around him less and less. Despite the arrangement you’d made with Jonathan things hadn’t gone to plan after Halloween. Things hadn’t even gone normally after Halloween and there was little time to be made for school projects when the safety of the world seemed to be at stake. But you and Steve stayed close.  
“Come to ours.” Steve offered.  
“I couldn’t.” You kept your eyes on the tv screen as your turn on tetris started.  
“It’d be cool, Nancy is gonna stop by. The more the merrier. You can even sign the famous Harrington Family Thanksgiving Tablecloth and put some shit about what you’re thankful for.”
“Dear Harrington Family Tablecloth, I’m so thankful that Steve isn’t as much of a tool as everyone said.” You laughed as he threw a pillow at your head.  
“Hey, I didn’t invite myself over your house to avoid responsibility so that you could be mean to me.” He said, dodging the pillow you chucked back at him. “Besides it’d look good ya know, my fake girlfriend should be at Thanksgiving with me.”
“With you and your ex-girlfriend who you’re desperately trying to get back together with?” You laughed, “How’d you convince Nancy to come anyway?”
“I asked. I’m a charmer man, the ladies love me.” He replied, “plus I told her it was just as a friend.”
“Alright, I’ll stop by. Now finish your round, I’ve got work in twenty minutes and Keith freaked out last time I was late.” You had gotten a job a few days before Halloween at the arcade and adjoining video store in Hawkins. It wasn’t your dream job and working with Keith was definitely not what you wanted but money was money and your dad was insistent that you get a job to pay for, what he considered, unnecessary goods.
Possibly the worst part of working at the arcade was the fact that it was a common hang out for Hawkins youth. While you only ever had to deal with people like Tommy and Carol when they came in to rent a movie, or last week when Tommy and some guys snuck into the private room of the video store to look at the porn, you still got stuck seeing all the middle school kids on the daily. Some of them, like Dustin or Jonathan’s little brother Will, were more bearable than others but they were still kids and fighting a pack of demadogs with them was a lot different than saying hi where everyone could see. Because while you didn’t have anything to prove to anyone you still felt a mild amount of embarrassment every time Carol and Tina saw you being friendly to Will Byers or his friends. It was bad enough that you worked with Keith.  
After your heated game of tetris Steve dropped you at the arcade with five minutes to spare. He was going to have dinner with Nancy, a big step in their developing friendship/ex-relationship. His plans to whoo her back weren’t going as smoothly as he imagined and she wasn’t falling for the bait that you two were dating, no matter how much time Steve inevitably spent hanging around you. He might be able to convince Tommy and Tina and Carol and all his other friends with some BS story about meeting at Halloween after Nancy split on him but she clearly wasn’t as gullible. She was friends with Jonathan after all, she knew what being ‘just friends’ looked like.  
Nancy was dressed and ready to go to dinner with Steve when Jonathan pulled up to her house to drop off Will. She waved, walking down the driveway to say hello. After everything that had happened to them this year and the year before Nancy had re-evaluated what was important to her and what wasn’t. These days gossip around the school or graffitied signs on the movie theater didn’t mean a thing to her. People whispered about her friendship with Jonathan and about her break-up with Steve but Nancy didn’t care about their bullshit.  
“Mike said you’re taking them to the arcade?” Nancy asked, leaning down to rest her arm against Jonathan’s window so she could talk to him. Behind her Will ran inside, slamming the door after him.  
“I promised Will.” Jonathan shrugged, “he’s really looking forward to it.” Jonathan and Joyce were trying their hardest to give Will a normal life amidst the turmoil of demagorgons and the upside-down. Sometimes Jonathan felt like his mother was a little too overbearing with his younger brother but he understood why she was and he did his best to watch over Will as much as she wanted him to. Like today, before all of this Will would’ve easily gone to the arcade with Mike and Dustin without needing an accompanying babysitter but Joyce insisted that Jonathan go, claiming that it would be nice for the brothers to bond, as if they didn’t already.  
“That’s good.” Nancy nodded. She looked back at the house to make sure that the boys hadn’t come out yet and then back to Jonathan, “how’s he doing?”
“Alright?” Jonathan offered, hating the question. Even when it was Nancy Wheeler who asked it. He never felt like he knew what to say. Was Will really alright? Would he continue to be alright? Would all this continue to be normal now that Eleven closed the gate? It was hard to say and frankly he’d rather not dwell on it too much.  
The conversation was interrupted by Will, Mike, and Dustin running to the car. “Well,” Nancy patted the window the same way her mother did when she was ending a conversation. “I’ll see you later.” And then she was walking to her mom’s car and getting in.  
While Jonathan drove the boys to the arcade Nancy made her way to dinner with Steve. An upgrade from the diner, Steve had chosen a nicer restaurant in town. It was an Italian place near the theatre that played live music and had some pretty decent garlic bread. He was already waiting outside for her when she pulled into a parking space, his hair in perfect place and his clothes suggesting that maybe this was more than a casual dinner. But Nancy had dressed up a little too, though she tried to play it off.  
“Nance,” Steve opened the door to the restaurant for her and pulled out her chair when they got to the table. “Uh, how’ve you been?”
“Good, since yesterday.” She laughed.  
Across town Jonathan was walking into the arcade behind Dustin, Will, and Mike. Though he had agreed to take the three boys there to meet Max and Lucas he was already starting to regret it. The arcade was dimly lit and loud, a sensory overload for someone with such sensitively inclined vision. He stood off to the side, trying not to crowd his brother and friends, instead attempting to fade into a corner until it was time to leave. Which could be hours from now he realized.  
“As I live and breathe, you creeping in the corner on purpose Byers?” You teased, bumping your hip against his as you stopped next to him.  
Jonathan looked over, letting out an uncomfortable laugh and then shaking his head, “I brought Will and his friends.” Just as he pointed them out Will looked over and you shared a wave with the younger Byers.  
“How’d they pry you away from Nancy?” You asked, curious that he wasn’t spending his time with her and wondering if he knew about the non-date/date Steve had arranged.  
“I don’t...we don’t hang out all the time.” Jonathan replied.  
“Well if you’re looking to kill some time you’re welcome to hang out with me. I’ll let you in on a classified secret,” you joked, leaning closer to him, “I’m tons of fun.”
You and Jonathan hadn’t spent much time together since Halloween. A couple of meet-ups at Benny’s to talk over plans for the writing assignment that you still hadn’t told him you wanted to base on his drama with Nancy. Otherwise you had only seen him when you were with Steve around school or the few classes when you sat together. You still liked Jonathan, that was undeniable, but with everything that happened pretending to date wasn’t nearly as important as saving Will’s life. And you understood that. You didn’t expect him to make time for you and stupid school junk when he was battling some tornado with legs. But things had died down and you couldn’t help taking this opportunity to spend some time with him.  
Jonathan laughed, “do you have anywhere quieter than here?” He asked, throwing another glance his brother’s way.  
“Follow me,” you beckoned, leading the way through the heavy red curtain that separated the arcade and the movie rental. “Keith usually hangs on that side and he should be back any second from lunch.”  
“It’s dinner time.” Jonathan pointed out, grabbing a stool from behind the counter to sit on. You took the other and sat beside him where your school books were spread out.  
“It’s second lunch time for Keith. He’ll take a break for dinner in like two more hours.” You laughed, “don’t question the logic just go with it.”
“Sorry I’ve been so MIA lately.” he mentioned after a pause of silence between the two of you. He was watching older women shopping for movies to rent so that he didn’t have to look toward you as he apologized. Nancy had been right when she told him that he had a crush on you. He did. And while Nancy didn’t fall for stupid high school tricks like you’re fake relationship with Steve Harrington but Jonathan was not above being fooled by the rumors. It wasn’t that he believed all the stupid shit that Carol and Tommy talked about but he had ears and he heard them mention your name in conjunction with Steve’s enough times that he thought maybe you really were dating. Things had worked out the way they planned at Halloween and things definitely weren’t going the way he wanted them too with Nancy but maybe you had managed to score Steve while he was still fumbling over his own nonexistent love life.  
“Can’t really be mad about that can I? It’d just make me look like a massive dick.” You teased. “And in case you haven’t noticed I’m the opposite of that.”
“I’ve noticed.” Jonathan replied, laughing as he loosened up.  
You couldn’t help the flutter in your chest at the sound of his laugh and the implication that he’d noticed you, even if he was just joking. A silence settled over the two of you as you watched a lady nearing the checkout with a movie in her hands only to turn at the last moment and keep looking. You leaned against the counter top, reading over your textbook as Jonathan reached over and took the homework handout to look over.
“Have you done that yet?” You asked, not looking up from your work.  
“Ah, yeah I finished it during study period.” Jonathan put the paper down again. He looked over at you while you were distracted with your homework. It sounded funny to say but ever since you had interrupted him watching Nancy that day in English it was almost as if you had disrupted his entire focus. Before October, and even before last year Jonathan would’ve said that he had a crush on Nancy Wheeler. His brother’s best friend’s older sister was just the picture of what a high school dream girl was supposed to be and however shallow it was he had fallen into the trap of wanting her as much as any other guy. And realizing that she wasn’t just some girl-next-door pretty enough to be in a catalogue had only made him like her more. And yeah, maybe the fact that she was pretty and she could hold her own against a demagorgan were the only reasons he liked her but they were in high school, he shouldn’t have to need more reasons.  
When he thought about it, really took the time to go over it in his head, that split second in time that should’ve been so insignificant threw him for more of a loop than he expected. One second he was sitting in class staring at Nancy Wheeler and wishing she would give half as much of her attention to him as she did to Steve when you called his name and started talking to him. He’d turned his head to look at you and suddenly it was like he could quite put his focus back on Nancy. At Halloween when he left you on the stoop at Tina’s house in your Stevie Nicks get up he couldn’t stop the resentment he felt toward Nancy beneath his general concern for her well-being. He found himself wanting to know if you had looked at him the same way he was looking at you or if he was imagining it.  
“So you and Steve?” He asked because he couldn’t stop himself from wondering. Had he really pushed you into Steve Harrington’s arms or had you liked the Patrick Dempsey of Hawkins Highschool this whole time.  
“What about me and Steve?” You asked, tilting your head to the side to gauge Jonathan’s expression. He was so hard to read and most of the time he just came off as shy and awkward.  
He shrugged, trying to ‘play it cool’ if that was even a possible action for a Byers, “I’ve just...seen you around him a lot and I heard that you were dating.” If you were dating would he tell you that your boyfriend was out with Nancy right now or did you know?
You thought about telling him the truth. That you and Steve were playing everyone the way you and Jonathan had intended on playing Nancy. He would keep a secret, that much you were positive about. But why was he asking? Because he was genuinely curious about your relationship status with Steve or because he wanted to make sure that Nancy really was off the market. Or was it something else? The something else that made you get butterflies when he laughed at something you said or when he saw you across the hall at school and waved just to you in the midst of a chaotic surge of students. The something else that had you wishing his gaze lingered on you the way it lingered on Nancy. So you decided to lie, to see where this was going. “Yeah. I guess so.”  
His brow furrowed and a frown set on his face and he opened his mouth to say something when Will came through the curtain divider and asked him to look at a high score. “Oh, alright.” He finally said as he stood up and followed his brother back to the arcade.  
What did alright mean?
-
November 22nd, 1984 - Thanksgiving
Though you hadn’t intended to when you set out on Thanksgiving around 5pm you had dined-and-dashed at the Harringtons’ . And hardly dined to be honest. You’d arrived at Steve’s a little after leaving your own house, dressed a lot nicer than you usually did and carrying a store-bought pumpkin pie. The last one that you’d been so desperate to grab you’d stolen it from the cart of an older woman while she was looking over the bread selection in the grocery store. You didn’t want to show up empty handed after he was nice enough to invite you and the personal guilt you felt over having baked nothing for them but having a perfectly baked apple pie sitting in the back seat of your car waiting for you to go to the Byers forced you to buy something.  
It was because of the Byers that you had dressed up too. Or, a specific Byers, Jonathan had invited you to his family’s Thanksgiving dinner on Tuesday night at the arcade and you couldn’t say no. Not that you wanted to say no. The opportunity to spend any amount of time with Jonathan and the fact that he wanted to see you enough that he had brought up Thanksgiving in the first place and invited you. Sure, Steve had invited you, unprompted, to his house for dinner too but that was different. You were friends with Steve and you wouldn’t quite call whatever you and Jonathan had ‘friends’.  
You didn’t want to read too much into the invitation from Jonathan but that didn’t stop you from the nervous anticipation as you checked your appearance in the mirror a dozen times before leaving your house. You’d brushed your teeth twice and changed your clothes more than that as you tried to imagine what would look best. What would tell Jonathan that you liked him and that you were better than Nancy. Or maybe not better but a viable second option. Did he know Nancy was going to Steve’s? Was she going to Jonathan’s too? Was he going to hers?  
“I thought you were leaving?” Steve called, walking over to your car and breaking the reckless train of thought you were trapped on.  
You’d said goodbye to everyone at least ten minutes ago and then walked out to your car, headed for Jonathan’s. But then your brain started to work again and all those thoughts about Nancy and you and Jonathan and the stupid fake dating scheme with Steve bubbled up and you worried that maybe this was all a terrible idea. Maybe you should just drive home.
Steve called your name.
“Sorry, just a little on edge today.” You apologized.  
You managed to drive all the way to the Byers without incident though you had been tempted to turn down your street and go home the minute you were stopped at the corner. You worked through it though, forcing your foot on the gas pedal and going straight to the Byers. Then you sat in the car outside their house, parked beside Chief Hopper’s truck as you tried to pep talk yourself into going inside. You might’ve stayed there all night if it wasn’t for Will coming outside.  
He knocked on the car window and you were so startled you hit the horn.  
“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” you apologized as you got out of the car. Will looked concerned more than upset and the front door flew open to reveal both Jonathan and Joyce.
“Are you alright?” Jonathan asked, coming down off the porch.
“Fine, fine...hit the horn is all.” You continued to ramble as you got the tupperware from the backseat. “I made apple pie, is that okay? It’s about the only thing I can make.”
“Of course.” Joyce always looked so warm. Even now she looked so genuinely happy and warm that you found yourself wishing she was your mom. She took the tupperware from you and Will headed back inside after checking that you were okay and apologizing for startling you.  
Jonathan stayed though, grabbing your upper arm when you started to follow the rest of his small family inside. “Hey, are you sure you’re okay?”  
You weren’t sure if it was because Will had been through so much and he always expected the worst or if you genuinely looked that freaked out but Jonathan was looking at you like you might pass out at any moment. You smiled and nodded. What could you say, that you’d worked yourself into a panic over the meaning of his invitation and were so terrified to go inside that you had chosen to just sit there and creep on them? That sounded crazy. You were just...friends?
“I’m fine.” You promised.
Jonathan let go of you and led the way inside. Joyce hadn’t decorated quite as festively as the Harringtons but it was certainly cleaner than the last time you’d been inside her house. The first time you’d been there, with Steve and Billy. Chief Hopper was there, sitting on the couch drinking a beer as Joyce finished setting out dinner. The two of them were talking about different people in town. You could Will down the hall talking to El in his bedroom and the sound of music coming from somewhere else. You weren’t usually so obtrusive but you couldn’t help following the sound, not even realizing that Jonathan had followed you down the hall.  
It was his room the noise was coming from. He’d been in his room before you arrived, trying to find the cleanest shirt he could from the various shirts left around the small space. It shouldn’t have mattered, you weren’t Nancy and he had a crush on Nancy. But somehow it did matter and he felt nervous about you coming for dinner. He’d cleaned the house that afternoon. Every spare plate, every out of place magazine or toy that Will had left lying around. He’d wiped down the table and vacuumed and swept the porch. It was a little unusual but Joyce didn’t argue and she didn’t ask either.  
“I thought he was hanging around Mike’s sister.” Hopper commented as he came into the kitchen, keeping his voice low so no one would overhear him.  
“I thought so too.” Joyce shrugged. She’d only met you once before, “I thought she was Steve Harrington’s girlfriend.”  
“Who?”
“The kid with the hair.” She gestured to her head, swooping her hand back the way Steve always did.  
While they debated Steve Harrington, you and Jonathan were in his room. He stood back near the door as you thumbed through his music collection, listening to the cassette that was playing right now. You picked up a small plastic case, a hand-drawn picture on the jacket and popped it open. A mix-tape. Tiny writing on the inside of the jacket listed all the songs on the cassette and just a date was where the title would be. You laid it down and picked up another, similar tape. Jonathan fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, not sure what to say as you looked over his music collection.  
There wasn’t a lot that Jonathan shared with people. His music collection and his photographs were the most private things he owned. They belonged to him solely and he only ever opened up about them with people that he knew he could trust. His mom, Will, Nancy had seen a few pictures. But no one else. But here you were looking through his personal music collection in his room, as if you had just stepped inside his brain and decided to take a tour.  
“This mix is really good.” You commented as the next song started to play.
“Thanks.” Jonathan took another step into the room.  
“I’m terrible at making mixes. I mean...I try ya know but I just can’t get the songs in the right order.” You admitted, putting a cassette down and turning toward Jonathan.  
“I uh,” Jonathan began to speak but quickly backtracked. He wanted to offer to make you one, it was right there on the tip of his tongue, waiting for him to say. But whatever social awkwardness plagued him he knew well enough that mixtapes were for girlfriends or boyfriends and not for random English partners that were just at Thanksgiving because he was so anxious he blurted out an invitation while he was waiting with you for his brother to be finished at the arcade. They weren’t for girls that he thought he didn’t like but that now caused his chest to tighten and his palms to get clammy when he was in the same room as her.  
“Sorry,” you laughed, taking his silence for a different sort of discomfort than the kind you were currently suffering from. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”  
The words ‘you are’ danced across his lips but he only shrugged and said, “we could listen to something else?” He walked all the way into his room, coming up beside you and shuffling through his collection until he came to a cassette that he was particularly fond of. “I made this one a couple weeks ago...took all day Saturday.” then it was his turn to laugh nervously, “sorry that sounds lame.”
“No way, I spent all Saturday playing tetris by myself in the basement. You’re preaching to the choir.”
Somehow the tension dissipated and the room was left with an oddly peaceful silence as you sat on Jonathan’s bed with him, listening to the mixtape he’d put in. He was moving so minutely you weren’t sure you were even seeing it correctly. But you could swear that out of your peripheral vision you could see Jonathan just slightly bop his head to the song that was on. And you thought maybe if you turned your head you could even catch the barest movement from his lips as he mouthed the words.  
You kept your focus mainly trained on the comforter beneath your hands, only looking at him every once in a while, when you thought you could chance it. Jonathan’s fringe was a godsend in that moment and he used it to block your view of his eyes so he could watch you. Watch the tiny smile that came to your face when a certain lyric was sung. The way you looked so happy when you recognized a song and the way you would mouth the title as the opening chords came, trying to guess what the next song on the mixtape was. He let his mind wander to what it might be like if you were more than just friends. If he hadn’t found himself pining after Steve Harrington’s girl all over again. He wondered if you would be sitting together like this. Or would he be laying in bed with you, your head on his chest as you listened to a mixtape he made just for you. He let himself smile, thinking about the way you might kiss his cheek when a song you were really fond of started playing. Or maybe you’d listen in his car, driving in the rain and headbanging along to whatever music was playing. Maybe he’d pull over when the thunder got really bad and you’d make out in the back seat.  
Another glance over at Jonathan and you saw him blushing just the slightest. The faint red disappeared into the collar of his t-shirt. He looked over at you and while you had looked away every other time you found yourself staring right back. You smiled and he smiled back, as simple as that. And then you swore he leaned toward you, just like a movie.  
“Dinner!” Joyce’s voice pierced through the house and Jonathan nearly fell over his feet as he stood up. He gulped and ran a hand through his hair and started toward the door before realizing you were still sitting on his bed, laughing quietly at him.  
“Come on...my mom makes great stuffing.” He nodded toward the hallway for confirmation.  
-
This is so long I just kept writing sorry. There’s one more part left.
@cold-blooded-girls @waiting4inspiration 
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biandnotinthemood · 5 years
Text
Anachronism
A/N: I wanted to try writing from Steve’s POV. It actually ended up being pretty challenging, but overall, I’m pleased with the result. Obviously, spoiler alert for seasons 2 and 3, but no trigger warnings this time except for very general references to Billy’s abusive home. Enjoy! xx
Summary: Anachronism is derived from the Greek word anachronous, which means “against time.” Therefore, an anachronism is an error of chronology or timeline in a literary piece. In other words, anything that is out of time and out of place is an anachronism. (x)
“We would go back and maybe not say that thing to our dad that we said, or maybe be a little nicer to someone who we cared about and had a relationship with when we were young. You know, they're subtle things, but we carry those with us forever. And I think that regret and time travel are intrinsically linked to me.” -Colin Trevorrow
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All of a sudden, one day, he was wide awake in the middle of the high school cafeteria. His name was Steve Harrington and he’d been here before, under different circumstances. He glanced at Robin sitting next to him eating her stale lunch bread. He’d been here before in a different life. Or a different time?
“What’s wrong?” Robin asked.
“I just woke up.”
She sighed. “Did you bring your special cookies to school again?”
He remembered everything. He’d always remembered everything, but now he was wide awake. In the end, it had just been him, Will, and El. The Upside Down had been leaking, but now the world was shiny and bright and new. The sun still felt warm and golden on his skin. He was outside all the time, sometimes with the naked wooden bat he’d bought at the hobby store on Main Street, sometimes with Robin and some weed.
Second chances were something he’d gotten a lot of last time, but he still had regrets. Sometimes he’d tell Robin about them, about Nancy “The Slut” Wheeler or that time he’d called Jonathan Byers a queer or even just all the little times he’d been so close to being honest but then he’d chicken out. They were always high when he got to talking about all that stuff and he could tell she almost believed him, but she was too smart not to be skeptical. He’d expect nothing less from her.
So much had changed with the reset, it was hard to prove it had even happened. There was only one thing that wouldn’t change, though. On October 15th, 1985, a guy named Billy Hargrove and his younger sister Max would arrive in the Hawkins High parking lot, “Rock You Like A Hurricane” blaring from his camaro’s stereo.
Before the reset, Steve had carried a portable radio in his backpack for El and sometimes it’d crackled to life all on its own. He’d lost track of how many times that song had played, always reaching into his guts and twisting him up inside until he’d reach over and turn it off. Other times, he’d hear panicked voices coming through or even other songs, like that one by Vera Lynn that his mom had always liked listening to when she’d get into her slumps. She’d put her old records on and lock herself in the library, spending the day drinking and thinking about “some sunny day”. When it sounded like a whole crowd was singing, he liked to imagine it was everyone they’d lost promising that they’d meet again. He’d spent a lot of nights living in the past back then.
When he gave Robin the date, she rolled her eyes, but still insisted on sitting outside that Tuesday. The moment they heard that engine revving and that song, her eyes widened and when their eyes met, she was white as a sheet. Steve took a leisurely swig from his water bottle.
“You believe me now?”
“Holy fucking shit.”
“Yeah.”
She started asking questions all the time. How had they met, had she ever gotten a girlfriend, how had she died? There were some things he knew better than to answer. Last time, he’d dated Nancy but he’d been too still and small for her, and she’d outgrown him and dated Jonathan. Until he got too still and small for her, and she’d outgrown him too. She never outgrew Robin, though. The concept of soulmates was obviously bullshit, but they’d fit together so perfectly, it just felt real.
But this time around, Nancy and Steve had never dated. She was with Jonathan and there was no way to know when that would change, if ever, so why tease Robin with something she might never have? He remembered their talks when she’d first come out to him, about how she’d tried liking guys but they’d just bore her or make her feel angry in that sad, powerless way. She’d tried liking the guys she was supposed to like, then she’d tried the soft, sensitive guys who were a little different, and it was all the same. He and Nancy had talked one night so long ago and she’d told him something similar, too, like she’d just been following orders her whole life. Steve was the guy she was “supposed” to like, Jonathan was the guy who was sensitive and artistic and different, but it was all the same to her.
As for Robin’s death… He didn’t like thinking about it. She was always so sharp and loud and full of life, he didn’t like remembering how cold she felt in his arms or how Nancy covered her mouth and wailed and fell to her knees… She’d lost a lot of weight after that. Steve didn’t like remembering the end of any of their stories.
Billy had been the first and it was so hard to reconcile the force of nature patrolling the school hallways with the battered, broken body on the floor of Starcourt Mall. Steve had stared at it--at him, until he’d been taken away in a black body bag. The mall didn’t even exist now. Scoops Ahoy would never exist. Billy would never visit him after a lifeguard shift, demanding sample after sample, leaning over the counter into his space, tying cherry stems with his tongue and winking at him… But he reminded himself that this time it’d be different.
After all the nights he’d spent turning Billy over again in his mind, he was ready to stop regretting everything. He was ready for it to be warm and golden, like the sun, like Billy’s laugh, like Billy’s skin. He’d been waiting over a lifetime for Billy and when he stalked up to Steve and his little group during the Halloween party, Steve couldn’t help but laugh. He even offered Billy a cigarette.
It took time, but he was determined. He was already back to being friends with Dustin. The kid had even let him borrow the Lord of the Rings books. Back when everything was dark and cold, he’d promised himself he’d read all three. He knew they were some of Billy’s favorites. He liked Dune, too, and The Little Prince and Pictures of Dorian Gray. Once upon a time, he’d told Steve to “use that shriveled-up walnut you call a brain and read a damn book before Big Brother makes it illegal, Harrington.” God, what an asshole.
Still, whenever Billy would press up against him in basketball practice or kick the back of his chair in class or crowd into him and his friends in the school parking lot with a cloud of cigarette smoke, Steve would just grin like it was all one big joke. And in a way, it was. Thankfully, it was one of those jokes that’s funnier the second time around. The more he seemed not to care, the more Billy seemed determined to get in his space. It made him want to laugh. It made him want to get in Billy’s space too.
It made him want to grab Billy and shout at the top of his lungs, “you moron, I’ve been in love with you for over a lifetime! I know you! I’ve always known you!”
There was something beautiful about it, about the fact that some things couldn’t be changed by the destruction of the lab. Steve was still friends with Robin and Nancy and Dustin, Joyce and Hopper still looked at each other in a way that made their eyes glow, Billy and Max still moved to Hawkins… The only person missing was El. Her name was probably Jane, though. She was living a normal life somewhere with a mom who loved her. Nothing had been stolen from her this time--from any of them. It had never been shared trauma that kept them together. It was love. It had always been love. This new world was proof of that.
Before the reset, he’d tried not to talk about the past and all the people he missed. It’d been one of his rules for El and Will. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been able to go on. There’d been one night, though, when El had insisted and he’d let it happen because all three of them could be dead in the next 24 hours, so why not? Will had been asleep when she approached him like he was a caged, injured animal. She’d started asking him about who he missed. He’d missed all of them. So had she. He’d missed them all the same, but El shook her head at him when he said that.
“Billy.” That had been the first time someone other than Max had said his name out loud since that night at the mall. For a moment, Steve had forgotten how to breathe.
“Yeah. I miss him, too.”
“You miss him more.”
His mouth was dry. He instinctively reached up to rub at the pendant hanging under his shirt. Max had swiped it before the scientists took Billy away and she’d worn it all the way up until she had no use for it anymore. El still wore her old green scrunchie and red jacket, the one with the white stripes. “Don’t you miss Mike more, too?”
El had hesitated, looking down at her hands clasped in her lap. “Not just Mike.”
He’d never really gotten a chance to find out who else El missed “more”, but he had a pretty good idea. Max was a cool kid. Whenever Steve and Billy found himself on opposite sides of a fight now, it always had something to do with her. Knowing why it was happening didn’t make it any easier to deal with. Max had the strictest curfew because she was Billy’s responsibility and Billy’s dad was a living nightmare. Getting rid of the lab hadn’t gotten rid of all the monsters in Hawkins, unfortunately.
It was a chilly night in January and Max had just finished screaming at Billy over the phone in Steve’s kitchen until her voice cracked, before slamming the receiver and storming out. None of the other teens liked watching the kids, but the parents trusted him and his house was always empty, so… Some things couldn’t be changed. This was just another night of him watching the kids. By the time he made it to the back door, Will was already comforting a sniffling Max on one of his white lawn chairs.
“He’s such a dick,” she gasped, fidgeting with the bright yellow knit hat in her lap.
“I know.”
“Why does he have to fucking act like that? What did I ever do to him? Y’know, I used to try to help him with--” She cut herself off, fumbling with the information she’d almost let slip. “Nothing. Nevermind.”
But Will could remember everything because he’d been there at the reset, just like Steve. “With your stepdad, right?”
“Y… yeah. How did you know?”
Will shrugged. “My dad was a bad guy, too.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I was lucky. I had my mom and my brother.” There was a beat of silence between them before Will grabbed Max’s hat and pulled it onto her head. She huffed and wiped at her face with the sleeve of her green sweater.
“I feel so stupid. I mean, I know I’m not, but… I just wish things were different, y’know? I wish Billy would either be less of an asshole or just, like… fuck off.”
“Jonathan was different back when my dad was around sometimes, too.”
“How’d you deal with it?”
“I waited.”
Max scoffed. “That’s it?”
Steve already knew what Will was going to say before the kid even said it. It had always been his advice. The other kids didn’t call him Will the Wise for nothing. “I waited and I listened.” It took a few seconds, but Max nodded.
Waiting and listening was all well and good for them, but not for Steve. The moment he heard Billy’s car rumbling down the street, he walked out to his driveway and didn’t uncross his arms until Billy was finally standing in front of him. “Let’s talk,” he said, smiling tensely when Billy rolled his eyes. He’d had enough of the waiting. Last time, the only reason Billy had changed his tune was because Max had almost turned his dick into ground beef with a nail bat. Well, this time they didn’t have a nail bat.
“What the fuck do you want, Harrington? I’m kinda’ in a rush here.” Under the dim street lights, Billy just looked tired and haunted, like a skeleton. The bags under his eyes were even casting little shadows. His hair was all messy and he overall just looked like he’d been dragged out of bed, shaken until he popped, and thrown into his car.
“It’s 7:30. Max’s curfew isn’t for another two hours.”
“So what?”
“So you didn’t need to call and upset her, but you did.”
“Are you serious right now?” Billy’s voice pitched itself higher until he sounded hysterical. When he brought a hand up to rub his eyes, Steve caught sight of his busted knuckles along with the glint of the silver ring he always wore. “None of that matters. I need to get her home--now.”
“You really don’t care?” Regret flickered across Billy’s face like a shadow, softening the hard lines of his face for just a second. “You made her cry.”
“She cries all the time,” he muttered, patting over all his pockets. He pulled his cigarettes out of the right pocket of his denim jacket. Before Billy could grab his lighter, Steve offered him his. Billy snatched it out of his hand and glared at him as he lit his cigarette.
“Should she be crying all the time?”
“What’s your problem?” Billy jerked his burning cigarette into Steve’s face, ash flaking off and fluttering around them.
“My problem is that you’re being an asshole and I know you’re better than that.” Steve had months of anecdotal evidence to prove Billy was better than that, but if he never decided to live up to it, then what did it matter?
“You don’t know shit.”
“I do. Now come inside.”
“What?”
Steve pointed at Billy’s busted hand and he covered it immediately, his tired eyes suddenly big and wild and alert. “I have a first-aid kit in my bathroom.” Billy took a pensive drag, the red glow of his cherry bleeding onto his face.
“Fine.”
“Yeah?” Steve asked with a slow smile. “You won’t bother Max either?”
“No,” he spat, throwing his spent cigarette on the ground and crushing it under his boot as he walked past Steve and towards the front door.
Max didn’t end up leaving until around 9:15 and whatever hell they’d catch for it at home, Steve just hoped he wouldn’t have to fill his bat with nails to get Billy to be a better person. The whole night, Billy had kept squinting at him with this unreadable expression and calling him weird.
And after that, things did change--slowly, then a little faster. Like rolling down a hill. Robin already knew he swung both ways, just like he already knew she was a lesbian. Well, maybe not just like he knew, but close enough. What she didn’t know was that Billy had been the one who helped him figure that out. It had been a lifetime ago, literally. After an annoying shift at Scoops, he and Billy had been alone in his big, empty house and Steve had pulled out his dad’s expensive whiskey and well… they finally did what they’d been dancing around for months. That memory, the breathless way Billy gasped out his name, the heat of his hands clutching Steve’s sweat-slicked back, his blue eyes--clearer and more beautiful than they’d ever been--fluttering closed as his back arched, it was precious to him. It was something that was only his. It was something that never happened again.
But Robin was smart. Too smart, really. She got to understanding that October 15th wasn’t an important date for him just because it proved he wasn’t full of shit. She got to noticing how he hovered around Billy or gave him things or just stared, even when he didn’t mean to. He never really meant to, but fuck, it wasn’t like he didn’t know Billy was gay. What, was he supposed to just ignore it? Or forget? How?
He and Robin were smoking in the back field during lunch one day. It was something they did often that Nancy very vocally disapproved of. If only she knew the first time she’d gotten high, she’d ended up loving it and kissing Robin (and loving that, too). Billy had been sitting with them for a bit, taking a hit here and there while arguing with Robin about the significance of the beating heart in The Bell Jar, but he’d left a few minutes ago. Steve was still watching him walk across the field.
“Just ask him out already.”
“Huh?” He didn’t look away from Billy’s retreating figure.
“Did you know him before everything changed?”
“Everything didn’t change,” he said, taking another quick hit from Robin’s dark blue pipe. “And yeah, I did.”
“Is he gay?” she asked, gingerly accepting the glass pipe when Steve handed it back to her. “You done?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, you’re done or yeah, he’s gay?”
“Both.”
“So ask him out.” Robin took a long puff, coughing like crazy when she pulled off.
“Not yet.” Billy wasn’t ready yet. Steve didn’t want to fuck him over like he’d done last time. After they’d slept together, Billy wasn’t even done catching his breath before Steve was practically shoving him out the door. And that was the last time they’d spoken, ever. That was the last memory Steve had to keep him warm at night back there, at the end of all things. Just another regret. And just because nobody could remember it didn’t erase the fact that it had still happened, that he had still done that. Even knowing everything he’d known about Billy’s pain and vulnerabilities, he’d still… And then he’d even had the nerve to be shocked and hurt when Billy hadn’t sauntered into Scoops Ahoy the next day with a sparkle in his eye and forgiveness on his lips. And then he hadn’t shown up the next day or the next or any day after that and before Steve knew it, he was staring at the empty, bloody patch of tiled floor in Starcourt Mall with a heart so empty, there was wind howling in his chest.
So really, maybe he was the one who wasn’t ready. But nothing could change the fact that he was drawn to Billy like a moth to a flame or maybe that guy Icarus to the sun. That was another thing that hadn’t changed with the reset.
As the weather got warmer, Billy shed his layers like a snake shedding its skin. He started coming around more often, but more and more it felt like he wasn’t just trying to be annoying but like he actually (gasp!) liked the company of Steve and his friends. Nancy might not have been his biggest fan at first, but she always got sucked into Billy and Robin’s conversations about different books. They liked recommending each other more shit to read and jesus, Steve had forgotten what a secret nerd Billy had been.
“You feeling this, Byers?” Steve asked Jonathan one lunch period when they’d been successfully iced out of a conversation about some very interesting lesbian book.
“I’m more into pictures,” he chuckled.
“Hey, you and I both.”
Jonathan and Billy would talk about music and concerts and they’d trade vinyls and tapes. Wow, was Steve really jealous of Jonathan Byers? It wasn’t like he even liked dudes. Billy fit so seamlessly into his life, it was like he was meant to be there. And he was. But every time those low-lidded, sleepy eyes landed on Steve, they turned bright and alert, pinning him in place like he was one of those butterflies in the frames his mom had all over the house. It was like Billy was studying him or something, and he didn’t know how to feel about it. It made him squirm.
Some nights, he’d show up at Steve’s house, either sweaty and crossfaded from a party or shaken up after a run-in with Neil (something Billy still hadn’t brought up). If his parents were home, he’d let Billy climb in through his window, trying not to remember all the times he’d stumbled into Nancy’s room the same way. Billy was more graceful, though, of course. What a prick.
It wasn’t until late April, when Steve was only about a month or so away from graduating, that Billy first showed up to him house perfectly okay and sober with just a baggie of weed and a pipe in his pocket. His parents were away for the next few days, but they still walked a little way into the woods before sparking up. Billy kept insisting on lighting it up for him, crowding in close until they were breathing the same humid air. More than anything, Steve just hoped that the glow from his lighter hid the blush climbing his cheeks.
It was mostly silent and the conversation didn’t really start until they were heading back. He was perfectly happy to just head back upstairs and go their separate ways because he thought that’s what Billy wanted, but then he collapsed onto one of the lawn chairs before Steve could say good night. He mumbled something unintelligible as Steve settled by the edge of the pool, his legs dangling in the water.
“What?”
Billy, ever the whiny little shit, groaned loudly before flopping onto his belly and gazing at Steve with a softness he hadn’t seen since before the reset. “You’re so fuckin’ weird, Harrington.”
“Thanks, man.” He turned back towards the water, the smell of chlorine mixing in his nostrils with the damp smell of the forest. It’d been drizzling all day.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you look at me like that? Like--”
“I’m not even looking at you.”
“Like you know shit I don’t or something.”
“I know you,” Steve said without thinking because it was true. He did know Billy. He’d known Billy for longer than he’d even really known himself. Nothing felt more true or real than that one simple fact.
“See?” Billy laughed wildly and when Steve looked over his shoulder at him, he was on his back with an arm covering his eyes. “Who says shit like that? Like, what does that even mean? Jesus.”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because I don’t like it.” When Billy pulled his arm away from his face, he was cracking the knuckles in his hand one by one over and over again. The pops echoed in Steve’s head like little exclamation marks. “What do you know, Steve, and like, how the fuck do you know it?”
“You wouldn’t even believe me if I told you,” he mumbled, not really expecting Billy to hear him, but he must have because then he was sitting next to Steve with his sweatpants hiked up to his thighs and his legs in the water. Steve took in the smell of his floral shampoo with a jittery breath, glancing at his lips before refocusing back on the pool.
“Try me. I’ll believe you,” Billy said in the same low tone that had gotten him so much free ice cream last time. Steve had to take money out of the tip jar on more than one occasion back then because he just couldn’t say no to him, ever. All Steve wanted was just to give Billy everything he’d ever wanted, but how could he give him this?
“You don’t know that, okay?”
“C’mon.” He nudged Steve’s shoulder with his own but Steve refused to take the bait and look at him because then he knew he’d lose any and all control over his mouth the moment he did. His heart was already beating so fast, it felt like one long vibration.
“You like sci-fi, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Well.” Steve took a deep, measured breath. “I’m not from here. I mean, fuck, how did Will explain it? My body’s from here, but my uh, my mind isn’t? Or something?”
“The fuck does that mean?”
“I’m from another time. A time when I already knew you and I remember all of it. You were dead and we were… we were friends. Before you died. Uh, obviously. Yeah.”
Billy was completely silent for god knows how long. Too long. “What do you know about me?”
“A lot.”
“You said we were friends.” Steve nodded at the water, his cheeks burning with memories of their so-called friendship. “Friends like how we are now?”
Steve’s heart started up again like a motor. “N-no.” Billy fell into a dark pit of silence again and when Steve finally felt brave enough to look at him, he found him glaring at the water with keen, clear eyes. “Billy?”
“You’re full of shit. You have to be.” Billy stood just as abruptly as he’d sat at the edge of the pool while Steve stared at him slack jawed. “You’re gonna’ have to try a little harder than that, Harrington. I mean, time travel? Come on.”
“It’s true!” Steve scrambled to stand, then almost instantly regretted it when he realized just how close they were. If he could only focus, he was sure he could count each individual freckle dusting Billy’s nose.
He snorted. “Prove it.”
“You want me to prove it?” he sputtered, his mind racing as Billy nodded slowly. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, desperate to keep him there, to make Billy trust him. “Your birthday’s on June 10th. Last time, we went to Indianapolis for some artsy underground concert because you said you wanted to show me real music. And I hated it!”
“Well, you have shit taste.”
“Jesus Christ, Billy.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “Your dad’s a piece of shit. You started growing out your hair as a ‘fuck you’ to him and you liked having something that was yours, but that just meant there was something else he could take away.” Billy’s face hardened and he took a step back. It was nearly summer, but the night felt so cold. “And you’re gay. And he hates that, but you don’t. I always thought it was so cool and amazing that you could still like shit about yourself because back then, I hated pretty much everything about myself. You made me feel better. We had dinner with my parents once and god, it was horrible, but afterwards we sat right out here and you told me about your mom.” The more he spoke, the farther Billy retreated into himself, slamming all his doors and windows until he was looking at Steve with the same raw, restless energy as he had that fateful night outside the Byers house so long ago. “Her name is Annabelle and you always wear her ring. You want to go back to California after graduation to try to find her. She gave you that necklace, too. After you died, Max wore it for a long time. Then I did.”
“Okay,” Billy started loudly, flicking his tongue along his bottom row of teeth like he was sharpening it. “This is freaking me out.”
“I know.”
“I think I’m gonna’ just head back to my place now.” Without another word, he turned and left. Steve called his name a few times, but he didn’t look back or even slow down.
For a while, Steve sat outside drinking and smoking and mentally kicking himself for waiting so long to have Billy back in his life just to fuck it all up. ‘Some things can’t be changed,’ he thought bitterly, over and over again. It’s not like any of it was fair. Last time, Steve got to fuck up (Nancy “The Slut” Wheeler) again (Jonathan’s camera) and again (being an asshole to the other kids at school, to Robin) and again (calling Jonathan a queer), but Billy was the one fuck-up he could never fix. But then the reset came and fixed everything!
Except Billy. It couldn’t fix him. It couldn’t bring his mom back or get him out of his dad’s house. That was why October 15th couldn’t change. Because Billy was still trapped. Would he always be trapped? Was July 4th another day that couldn’t be changed? Was he destined to just love Billy over and over again and push him away over and over again and miss him and miss him and fucking miss him over and over again? Nancy had been right, he was a fucking idiot. All this time waiting for Billy and he’d been too stupid and selfish to realize that the only reason he got to do that was because Billy was still stuck in the same shit he’d always been stuck in.
He fell asleep on the lawn chair Billy had been lying on and woke up late in the day with a sunburn. At that point, there was no reason to go to school so he just stayed home and watched I Love Lucy reruns in his room. And fuck it, it was Wednesday and he was graduating in a month, why go to school for the rest of the week? His parents wouldn’t be back until Saturday morning anyway.
It wasn’t until Friday that he got a visitor. It must’ve been around noon because his head was pounding whenever he tried to open his eyes. If he tried, he could hear a voice or two and some rattling, but he didn’t move. He drifted away again.
Pain crackled on his cheek and when he gasped awake, Robin’s face was looming over his. “You hit me,” he slurred. The living room was a lot darker now.
“Yeah, well, I also cleaned your fucking house, so. You’re welcome, dingus.” Steve chuckled, but it got cut off by a groan as he grabbed the side of his head. “I hate when you get like this,” she said softly. “And you didn’t even invite me, you asshole.”
“Sorry.”
“Whatever, just get up. Your boyfriend made you dinner. Though I guess for you, it’s breakfast.”
“Don’t have a boyfriend,” he grumbled, closing his eyes again. Robin smacked him--again. “Jesus, Rob!”
“Get. Up.” There was a clattering sound in the kitchen and they both looked over.
“Billy’s here?” he whispered, watching the way the yellow light moved in the kitchen doorway.
“Yeah, dummy, he’s here.”
He sighed, covering his face with both hands. “I don’t wanna’ see him.”
“And I don’t want to be smelling your breath right now, but here we are.”
“You’re being shitty.”
“Oh, I’m being shitty. You’ve been drinking yourself stupid in here for days, didn’t bother calling me over or anything, but yeah, I’m the shitty one.” Guilt settled in his stomach like a rock and he forced himself to sit up. “Attaboy,” Robin said, shoving a glass of water in his hands. “I’ll be back.”
He hadn’t realized just how thirsty he was until he took the first sip, then just like that all the water was gone. Billy and Robin were definitely talking about him in the kitchen. He could hear their intense whispering, but his ears were ringing too much for him to make out the actual words. What were the two of them doing in his house anyway? Of course Robin got in, Robin had keys because she’s his best friend, but Billy? The two of them weren’t even really friends per se. Ha, per se. Nancy would be so proud of him for sounding so smart in his head. Not the new Nancy, but the old one. The dead one.
When stepped into the golden rectangle of light in the kitchen doorway, his hair tied back and a dishrag draped over his shoulder, Steve’s breath hitched. The glass cup almost slipped out of his sweaty hands. Neither of them moved and it felt like one ridiculous game of chicken--one that Steve didn’t particularly care if he lost. Billy was waiting for him now, waiting for him to plant his feet and barrel into him, and--
“Y’know, you died in that outfit.”
“Did I?” he asked with all the fake charm he’d used on the moms at the Hawkins Community Pool, looking down at his dirty beater with a frown. “That’s a real shame.”
“It was,” he said, trying his hardest not to back down when Billy met his gaze. For once, he didn’t look violently aware like he was trying to see in a pitch black room. He just looked wide awake. “Do you believe me?”
“October 15th. Robin told me you even knew what song I’d be playing.”
Relief spread through Steve’s body like a morphine drip. “‘Rock You Like A Hurricane.’ It’s still one of my favorites.”
Billy smiled softly, his dark lashes fluttering shut. “Shut up. Come fucking eat. You look like shit and I have questions.”
He told Billy everything he wanted to know. Told him about their fight at the Byers house, Max threatening him with the nail bat, the time he’d had to crash into Billy’s car to save his friends--everything. And everything in between, too, but he saved some of those parts of the story for a time when Robin wasn’t sitting on his kitchen counter and eating a plate of pasta Billy had made. A time when the two of them were drinking beers at Lovers Lake and Steve didn’t have to be scared anymore and Billy didn’t have to pretend he wasn’t interested. They’d been outside together a lot since their talk in Steve’s kitchen and Billy’s tan had blossomed until everything about him reminded Steve of a sunflower.
When they finally kissed, it was so much like the first time, Steve almost couldn’t believe it. It was the same, but different, just like them. It entered through the eyes when Billy leaned in close, his soft gaze fluttering all over Steve’s face and always, always settling on his lips. Just like last time.
Steve brushed a hand under Billy’s light blue shirt, settling it on the small of his back and smiling at the way the warm skin twitched under his palm. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, tightening his grip just a little so Billy would know he really meant it. Just like last time.
Billy worked his fingers into Steve’s hair, tugging him closer and surging forward to claim his lips like Steve was a bright summer fruit he couldn’t get enough of. This time, they weren’t drunk. This time, it wasn’t dark. This time, they weren’t alone. The kids, Joyce, Hopper, and their friends were all closer to the water. The sound of their laughter and the mixtape Jonathan made floated over to them through the trees. The golden heat and the clean smell of the woods grounded Steve in this moment. When they both pulled away, Billy caressed his cheek and stared deeply into his eyes. Just when Steve was getting to a point where the scrutiny was making him blush, Billy pulled him close again, tucking Steve’s face into his neck and laughing.
Later, when they were all out of ice, the two of them drove into town to get some, Billy’s hand on his knee the whole time. It was on Main Street that he noticed a girl in a bright rainbow shirt that looked a lot like the one Max liked to wear. She had long brown hair and she was standing in front of Melvald’s, cupping her hands to peer inside. Before she even turned around, he was running across the street towards her.
He’d been right. Her name was Jane now, officially. Nothing had been stolen from her, except for all of them. When Steve hugged her, she fell into his arms with tears in her eyes. He held her close to his chest with a hand in her hair just like he had all those years ago at the reset. She’d been crying then, too, and so scared, she couldn’t stop shaking. Now, though, when she pulled away, she was just laughing breathlessly and wiping her tears away with a sweet smile.
“How are they?” she asked simply and Steve thought of all of them laughing by the lake and Billy in the convenience store getting ice and probably a pack of Lucky Strike menthols, too.
“They’re so happy, El.”
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pentaxed-a · 4 years
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it’s been a few months since jonathan byers actually became friends with one steve harrington && one billy hargrove- though, evidently so, one would be more unwilling to admit friendship with him in public than the other. but all three of them are teenagers who know that something’s wrong with this town- that this place held a secret they couldn’t dare spill. maybe that’s what got them all to hang out originally, but jonathan couldn’t tell you for certain what it was that kept them together. they just kept coming back together, no matter how rough it seemed to be in the beginning with the tension of the past from steve && current tension due to the creep rumors from billy. but after a couple of months, they were alright with each other. 
that was also the point in time that jonathan realized something was wrong. 
he wasn’t quite sure what was going on at first- he noticed he had been beginning to feel more fatigued && sluggish, unable to get through the day without feeling as if he had run a marathon. there was also the fact that he seemed to be more prone to colds, little short bursts of fevers && coughing that left him wondering where they came from or where they went. bags formed under his eyes- at first, they weren’t too noticeable && neither was the pale skin. but the more as time went on, the more he began to realize he was looking quick... well-
sick. 
each day brought only a little bit of weakness. each week it began to grow noticeable. after another month or so, jonathan thought something seemed off. his mother did, too, so she took him to see the same doctor will had been seeing. neither of them had been too happy when they didn’t receive an actual answer at first, the doctor refusing to give up his theories && only told them to keep bringing jonathan back each week. every appointment, he’d ask jonathan questions about his life && if there might’ve been anyone he fancied. jonathan always said no- he didn’t believe he had anyone he truly liked that way currently, but he’d always talk vaguely about steve && billy as if they had hung the moon && stars with their own bares hands, no matter how much they seemed to annoy him or anger him. the doctor nodded along with what jonathan said, always seemed calm && placating. 
it wasn’t until blood flew past his lips during a coughing fit as he was talking about his friends did the doctor give them an answer. 
❛ there isn’t a name for it quite yet, ❜ he had said.  ❛ obviously, you’re the first person who’s had this- but we believe it’s been caused by... you know. in short terms, son, your organs are shutting down one by one- slowly rotting from the inside out. && with the way you’re talking about those friends of yours... ?? we believe that your unrequited love might be the cause. we’ll try to do what we can to help you, but what i recommend for now is trying not to spend so much time with them. let the feelings die so you can live. ❜
ha. 
he had said that as if jonathan had the will to do so. 
of course, at first jonathan had been quick to denial. theres wasn’t a single damn way he could’ve fallen for steve && billy- not both of them. it was already looked down upon for daring to think of more than one person like that, but to think of more than one man like that ?? it couldn’t happen.  it would never happen. but jonathan could never bring himself to just keep himself from hanging out with them anyway- he still loved them as friends dearly. besides, he was certain steve at the least already knew something was up with jonathan... so jonathan needed to be able to tell him he was fine && be able to act the part. so he did- he proceeded to shove the thought that this disease could be caused by having some sort of feelings for steve harrington && billy hargrove, proceeded to hang out with them like nothing was truly wrong. because that was just ridiculous. 
it takes a month && a half after the diagnosis, a month && a half of slowly coughing up blood, 5 && half months of knowing these two for him to come to the conclusion that the doctor might not have been so wrong about his feelings after all.
it only gets worse after that. 
but does he let it show ?? hell no. 
so now he’s here at the harrington house while his parents are gone for the millionth time that week, sitting cross legged at the foot of his bed && laughing at something stupid that steve said while billy is lounging actually on the bed, rolling his eyes. billy makes a remark that has steve shoving at him. it’s a good time of jonathan laughing while he watches them wrestle with each other... but soon the air turns serious as the boys send each other a look, billy’s angry && almost begging steve while steve ignores it, turning to jonathan. 
he wanted to tell jonathan something- it was important && he needed to know if jonathan would be their friend no matter what they said. 
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❛ of course, ❜ he says.  ❛ what’s going on ?? ❜
steve was nervous before he spilled the beans- news that has jonathan feeling both relieved that this was a possibility && absolutely broken because then it wasn’t. he could already feel his insides churning, already feel his body beginning to heat up in a feverish battle against his own feelings, already feel his organs begin to just decay at an accelerated rate. he wasn’t sure if that’s quite what’s going on but it sure felt like it. 
steve && billy were dating. they were into dudes, which made jon happy, but they were into each other, which just- 
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❛ hey, that’s... that’s fine- ❜ he chokes down the urge to cough, smiling at them. billy looked inches away from either fighting or fleeing.  ❛  we’re all okay, i promise... i don’t think of you any different. ❜
after that, there’s a relief in the air from the two. they go back to talking, but jonathan is distracted- it’s getting harder && harder to keep his lungs placated. after a couple of minutes, he’s excusing himself to use the bathroom, scurrying about to his destination before he could receive an answer from anyone. he’s hurrying down the halls, farther away from them as he slams himself through the door to a luxurious bathroom. he barely makes it to the sink before coughing racks through his frame, wet && harsh- blood spills from his lips in an amount he hasn’t seen before... it’s dirtying the pristine white of the sink’s bowl && even some of the counter space as it spills from his lips, falling down his chin. 
god he can’t stop coughing, usually it passed by now... what- 
his questions are answered when something more solid seems to lodge in his throat for the briefest second, almost making him choke before it suddenly lurches up && out his mouth. it lands among the blood among the sink. it was... quite a sight. there was the pure white of the sink && the beautiful silver of the drain, both tainted by the harsh red of blood && the sudden black mass that came from within him. he’s confused as to what it was before he remembers what’s going on inside of his body. 
the small mass was a piece of him. 
his body is shaking && there’s tears rolling down his cheeks in small streams from the sheer force his coughing had hit him with. he just kept staring at the mess in the sink, only brought out of his thoughts when there’s a knock on the door && a concerned voice asking him if he was doing alright. his breathing quickens as he looks around, panicking- they couldn’t see this fucking mess, much less steve’s fucking parents. he needed to clean this up- fuck did he lock the door ?? he’s moving to try && gather toilet paper to get this cleaned up, but his knees couldn’t hold his weight anymore. he’s sent to his hands && knees, which gets what blood had gotten on his hands to transfer onto the tile. he cursed to himself before he yells at the door, voice hoarse. 
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❛ i’m- i’m fine, just give me a minute- !! ❜
@trnedbitch​
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