#between us the series ep5 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 2 years

Text

Honey, a lizard ate the cat!

pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Byers!Reader

genre: follows show plot lines, but with diverge from canon, obviously (its a reader insert)

WC: 8.4K

warnings: cursing, a whole dream sequence of lonnie being a homophobe (i used the f-word, but its censored), should be it, message me if theres something i need to add.

summary: you and steve did have plans to hang out this weekend, except those plans didn’t involve a baby Demogorgon. you really wish it was just the two of you in your room, you cleaning and him keeping you company.

A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG -The Byers Harrington Story-

series masterlist

ep5 is the very beginning and ends at the first break and then it leads into ep6. ep6 is split between this chapter and the next one, but for ep6 it’s mostly my own writing. next chapter for ep6 will have more show scenes.

@alecmores for being my proof reader!

reblog or leave a comment/anonymous comment if you can! i would really appreciate it❤️

previous chapter next chapter

You snapped awake from the nightmare, your body lurching forward from the bed. Chest panting like you just ran a marathon, trying to catch a breath that was escaping you. And you weren’t the only one gasping for air this morning. Will jerked forward a second later, his shirt more stained with sweat. The two of you exchanged looks with the other, trying to gauge what caused the others abrupt wake.

“Will, what’s wrong?” Mike’s morning voice asked from the floor.

Will looked at you and then turned to Mike, his eyes held a terrifying color within, and his body carried with a light tremor, “I saw him,” that was his only reply before leaving the bed and changing his shirt.

You shared a look with Mike, both of you confused and worried, before following Will out of his room. The two of you trailed behind him down the hall and out into the living room. You were confused at the sight of Joyce sitting in the middle of the floor, the drawings surrounding her, and one of the phones sitting beside her. She stared ahead of her, at the TV or drawings, you weren’t sure, but she was in a sort of trance. She didn’t turn her attention to you when the three of you walked behind her, it took Will calling out to her three times and a shake of her shoulder to capture her attention.

“I saw him.”

“You saw who, baby?” Joyce asked, confused.

“Hopper.”

Now that wasn’t the answer you thought would come out of his mouth, you thought he was talking about the shadow monster.

“What’s wrong with Hopper?” you asked the obvious.

“I think he’s in trouble. I think he’s going to die.”

A shiver ran up your spine due to the way Will delivered the line, saying how Hopper might die. You started to panic, Hopper can’t die, he can’t. You don’t know what you would do if he died, he was there for you before Bob came into the picture. He was there for the family when Will went missing. He was another person you went to about your dilemma where you asked yourself for months if you should have stayed at the school, which of course Hopper says you should have followed his and Joyce’s words. But he would reassure you that none of it was your fault, “We’re dealing with the unknown, there’s only so much we could do.”

“Well, what are we gonna do? Do you know where he is? His current location?” you asked Will frantically.

“He’s in the tunnels.”

“Tunnels? Th- These tunnels?” you pointed at the drawings covering the house.

He shook his head. You held your mouth open and spun around with your arms out in a ‘these tunnels!’ attitude. Your hands fell and smacked your outer thighs.

“Will could spy in the tunnels,” Mike stated.

You and Joyce turned to Mike with confusion written on your faces and set in the furrow of your brows, Will looked a bit peeved that Mike had told the both of you that. Was this what they were talking about yesterday? Before you entered Will’s room.

“What do you mean, “ Joyce asked.

Mike and Will shared a look, “I don’t know how it works, but I can see in the tunnels,” Will answered.

“But I can’t control it, I guess. It just happens on its own.”

“Could you maybe draw where Hopper is? In the tunnels?” you questioned.

Will shrugged his shoulders, “I think.”

He then headed back to his room, the three of you stuck to the floor for a moment then followed him. He was sitting at his desk, a blank piece of paper in front of him with the crayons beside him. He sat still for a few minutes, the noise of everyone’s breathing filling the silence, then he grabbed a crayon and started to scratch at the paper furiously. He stayed doing that for about five minutes before he stopped, Joyce beside him leaning down.

“Hey, is this where you saw him?” she points at the paper. “Is this where you saw Hopper?” a stutter followed the sentence.

You and Mike walked closer behind Will and leaned over his shoulders to look at the paper, “I think so, yeah.” He replied.

Joyce, still confused, grabbed the paper and then looked at the both of you, “Okay,” she whispered to herself.

The three of you then started to look around the room, searching for any place the new drawing could fill. Seeing no place open in Will’s room you all filed out and into the hall, looking from the bottom to the very top to find an opening. Joyce checked the living room, you checked the dining room, and Mike checked the kitchen.

You and Joyce both struck out and then, “Here!” Mike yelled from the kitchen.

The two of you rushed in and he was pointing at a spot on the fridge. Joyce ran over and threw the paper over an existing trail.

“Okay, so… so Hopper is here?”

“Yeah. Now we just need to find out where here is, right?” Mike asked.

“Right,” you reassured.

“Did he say anything? I mean, before he left?” Joyce looked at you and Mike.

“Uh, some…something about vines?” she sighed.

Neither of you got time to respond when the sound of a car pulling into the driveway interrupted. You three looked up in anticipation. “Hopper,” you breathed in relief.

You rushed over to the window wanting to see Hopper’s car with your eyes, but a pang of disappointment stabbed your heart when it wasn’t Hopper’s truck, but Bob’s car. You turned around when you heard Joyce and Mike following you and you gave a confused look at Joyce, “What’s Bob doing here?”

Joyce seemed confused at the question and looked out the window. She started to look around the living room, her hands fidgeting together. She was nervous for Bob to see the house this way, and you can’t lie, you didn’t want Bob to know about any of this. He wasn’t supposed to know about any of this. What if the government found out and killed him? What if he got hurt while involving himself in this crazy mess? You don’t know what you would do if you lost another person to this stuff.

In your haze of worry, Joyce hurried outside, the noise of the front door closing behind her as she walked to Bob. Mike walked beside you and together you watched the interaction between Joyce and Bob. He was carrying what looked to be different games in one hand while he used the other when talking. They leaned in close to each other, Joyce’s body covering Bob’s face.

“What does she see in him?” Mike asked.

You turned to Mike with an annoyed air around you, “How about you shut your trap, Wheeler. Not like you’re catching girls on your web.”

Now the both of you looked at each other with annoyed and offended expressions, so engrossed with the other that you both missed Joyce turning back to Bob and waving for him to come inside. Hearing the door open was the thing to stop your staring contest.

“Now, you can’t ask too many questions, because you won’t be getting many answers,” Joyce told Bob over her shoulder.

“Can one of you grab Will?” and Mike took that as his cue to do so.

You made a gentle grab of Joyce’s upper arm and pulled her into the dining room and, with your voice lowered, “What is Bob doing here?” you whispered.

“He could figure this out, he is called ‘Bob the brain’.”

“But we can’t involve people, what if the government comes after him?” “We’re not gonna tell him anything, we just need him to help with the map, okay?”

You looked at Bob in the living room, his head moving in different directions taking in the taped drawings, his steps slow and cautious.

“I just- I just don’t want to worry about Bob getting hurt.”

“Honey, it’s going to be okay. We’re not looking for danger, we’re just looking for Hopper. And Bob might be our only shot at finding him.”

Your eyes fidgeted between her and Bob, your anxiety peaking for a moment. But if Bob could help figure out what Will was trying to show the three of you, where Hopper currently was in the tunnels, you’ll quiet the anxiety right now.

“You guys doing some redecorating?” Bob joked about the drawings.

You and Joyce plastered false smiles at the joke as Mike and Will joined the three of you in the living room. “How are you feeling, buddy?” Bob asked Will.

“Uh, I’m- I’m okay, right now.”

You can’t tell if that was Will's full-on lying to Bob, or if there was a hint of truth in his words about the actual situation.

“Okay, so, Bob, remember, no questions.”

“Why is that?” “Ah, that’s a question with no answer, sorry Bob.” you retorted.

He just nodded his head and then looked at the drawings again. The five of you stood in deafening silence, you four looking at each other as Bob kept his eyes glued to the walls.

“You drew all these yourself?” he turned to ask Will.

He just shook his head yes. Bob nodded his head with an impressed look and turned back to the wall of drawings, “Why, exactly?” he questioned.

“I…I told you the rules,” Joyce pressed. “No questions, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Joyce began to walk away, “We…we just need you to help us figure out what…” she stopped halfway to the kitchen when Bob wasn’t following behind, “Bob? Bob?” He finally turned around at the call of his name, “Over here.”

He handed Mike the stack of games he brought with him and headed to the kitchen. Just as you were about to follow you took a glance over at Will, he was staring at the wall for a few seconds, and his eyes widened. “You okay?” a gentle hand lay upon his shoulder.

He snapped from his trance, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

You chose to believe him and walked to the kitchen, “Where…where this is.”

Joyce was squatting in front of the fridge where the new drawing Will did this morning was taped. She colored over the blue and purple crayons forming the tunnel and used a red crayon to form the X marks the spot sign. The treasure of the hunt, find Hopper and save him from the tunnels.

“That’s the objective. Find the X,” Mike added over Bob’s shoulder.

“Yeah? What’s at the X? Pirate treasure?” He chuckled at his joke.

“Bob, no questions,” was all Joyce responded.

“You could just think of it as treasure,” you joked.

He nodded his head, “Okay.”

Bob took a moment, he looked at you and Joyce with a sigh, and then at Will and Mike with a click of his tongue. Joyce cleared her throat from how quiet Bob was about the whole thing.

“Let me talk to you for a second,” he reached a hand out to Joyce’s shoulder, “hang on, guys.” And the two of them left the kitchen, heading somewhere down the hall.

“This is going terribly,” you sighed with a hand rubbing at your temple.

If Joyce couldn’t give answers to Bob, and if Bob just thought the four of you were crazy, then this wasn’t gonna go much further. And right now, the longer it takes to understand the tunnels, the less time Hopper has. Who knows how long he’s been down there? You don’t understand how the Upside Down works. Can he breathe properly without a hazmat suit? Does he have his gun?

“(Y/n),” a gentle voice and hand slipping through your fingers took your attention.

Turning to the voice you saw Will looking at you with worry in his eyes, you must have been pacing or something, showing your anxiety about Hopper. You couldn’t break down, Joyce was already on her teetering edge, and with Jonathan off to who knows where you had to be the strong adult for Will and Mike right now.

“I’m okay, Will. Just worried for Hopper.”

“What are you, like, in love with him?” Mike’s annoying voice spoke.

With your free hand, you smacked Mike upside the back of his head, “what the-”

“Dumbass. Aren’t you worried about Hopper?” “Yeah, but you’re just extra-”

Hurried steps and a voice interrupted the conversation, “Okay, I get it. That’s Lake Jordan. And if that’s Lake Jordan, then you can probably find…” Bob and Joyce were walking back from the hallway. Bob was pointing at certain drawings a new air about him with this situation, “Yeah, that’s, uh, Sattler’s quarry. And if you just follow it naturally…” he trailed into the living room, “it moves to…the Eno River.” And he stood in front of the corner that the Demogorgon crashed through that forsaken night. “And there it is. That’s the Eno, do you see it?” He asked Joyce.

You and the boys stayed in the kitchen, but you slowly inched closer to the pair, wanting to understand what Bob was talking about.

“Okay, so, the lines aren’t roads. But they act like roads.”

Bob was walking to the dining room and then finally reentered the kitchen, the boys sitting at the table as you stood with your arms crossed over your chest.

“And they act like roads ‘cause when you follow ‘em, you’ll see…” he met the four of you in the kitchen, “they don’t go over water. And that’s the giveaway. That’s the giveaway! Ha!” You would think Bob just won a competition with his enthusiasm. “Don’t you get it? It’s not a puzzle, it’s a map.” He was walking around the kitchen.

“It’s a map of Hawkins!” he held his arms out triumphantly.

The boys looked at each other, and you looked at Joyce, who was looking at Bob, so you looked at Bob with a bit of confusion. Bob just laughed at his discovery. “Right, Will?” Bob turned his attention to Will as he sat at the table. Will looked flabbergasted.

“I’m still confused, but I never understood in the first place,” you mentioned for some reason.

Bob looked at you, “That’s okay. All I need is a map of Hawkins, a ruler, paper, and a pen.”

The four of you started to run around the house, shouting out when you found something on the list. You come in last with the map of Hawkins, one that's been sitting in an empty cabinet for who knows how long. With the needed supplies, Bob placed everything on the kitchen table, “All right,” he whispered to himself. He opened the side of his jacket, showing the three different pens clipped to an inside compartment. He plucked the middle one, clicking the ink tip into place, “All right. I’m three point six inches, what do you got?”

“I’m not sure,” Mike yelled at Lovers Lake, “Mrs. Byers?”

Joyce was running through the hall to Tippecanoe, “Uh, twenty-one feet, four inches.”

“What about Tippecanoe to Danford Creek?” Bob called out.

She sighs, “Danford?” and stammers, “Where’s Danford?” “Dining room,” Will shouted.

You watched as Joyce ran from Tippecanoe to Danford Creek in the dining room, “Sixteen feet, ten inches.”

“What about Danford to Jordan?”

“Oh, come on, this has got to be enough,” she stuttered.

She and Will run to you and Bob in the kitchen, Mike appearing from Will’s bedroom.

“It’s not. It’s…it’s really not,” Bob complained.

“Okay. Can’t you figure it out?”

Bob stuttered an answer, “Well, it’s hard. The ratio isn’t exactly one-to-one. I mean, if you’re twisting my arm, and you are twisting my arm,” he turned to Joyce, “I would say that the X is…” He drew a line on the map, “maybe a half mile southwest of Danford?”

Joyce sighed in relief, “Thank you. Thank you,” and planted a hurried kiss on his cheek.

He was dazed for a moment as Joyce tore the map from the table and rushed out of the house, the boys following just behind. You and Bob shared a look, “What? Are we… Are we really going?” he looked at you for confirmation.

You were looking from Bob to the front door, “Uh, I think?” And Bob hurried out of the kitchen to the car.

It still took you another millisecond for your brain to catch up with everything, and before you could rush after the four bodies, the distant noise of static and a voice drew your attention away. You hurried to the noise, not wanting to lose the trail which led you to Will’s room, the static voice muffled by a sock laying over the receiver.

“Will? (Y/n)? Byers! Anyone copy? This is code red! I repeat, a code red!” Dustin’s voice shouted.

You instantly radioed back, “Dustin?”

A few seconds passed, “(Y/n)! Oh, thank god!”

“What’s wrong?...over,” you know he’s a stickler about that.

“I have a situation at my house and I need back up, I already have Harrington, but I need some muscle, over,” you could hear the cut-off noise of Steve saying something back.

“What kind of situation? Over.”

“Just come to my house, you’ll see for yourself, over.”

During the conversation, you walked from Will’s room to the living room to check out the window, and seemingly your mom was in such a hurry that she left the driveway already. You sighed in annoyance with her impatience but got over it.

“Fine, be there in about twenty minutes, over.”

You placed the walkie on the dining table, grabbed a jacket, and rushed out the door. You were about to have the worst workout ever.

…

After maybe thirty minutes instead of your stated twenty, the Henderson residence came into view, along with the maroon BMW parked up the driveway. It was completely dark by the time you dropped your bike on the cement ground and called out for Dustin.

“Dus-” haven’t biked in a while, you were out of breath.

The faint sound of talking and then a loud banging noise sounded from behind the house, so you followed the noise. Just around the bend of the house, you could see the back of Dustin who was standing a few steps away from Steve who held a flashlight in one hand and the nail-studded bat in another. You didn’t even notice he took it from your house that night, he unknowingly had a piece of you with him, the butterflies kicked into gear but you pushed them down. Walking down the small cobblestoned path leaves crunching under your beat-up sneakers, the boys whirled around at your entrance, Steve holding the bat like he was ready to swing.

You threw your hands up in a surrendering action, “Stand down, just me.”

They sighed in relief, Steve dropping the bat down onto the cellar doors, your hands coming down in a crossed position over your chest. You stopped just behind Dustin with your eyes looking at Steve over his shoulder.

“What’s this code red?”

“Dustin has a lizard that ate his cat,” Steve deadpanned.

“Okay, it’s not a lizard, it’s a baby Demogorgon.”

“Dude, whatever, it ate your cat.”

The two bickered back and forth while you digested this information. Dustin got his hands on a baby Demogorgon. A baby Demogorgon somehow has been living in Hawkins for who knows how long, and its first victim was Dustin’s cat. This had to be the worst timing for everything, first with Will’s episodes getting worse, then Hopper getting lost in the tunnels, and now this. Is November your cursed month?

The shining of bright light on your face disturbed your thoughts, making them scurry away into the dark. Your eyes squint to adjust to the sudden brightness against the dark background, a hand moving to shield the light helped.

“All right, listen, kid. I swear, if this is some sort of Halloween prank, you’re dead.”

“It’s not.”

“It’s also November fifth, Steve.”

He just huffed, “Whatever. You understand, Henderson?”

“It’s not a prank.”

You backed Dustin up, “They only use code red in real emergencies. They know better than to joke about it.”

Steve still held his annoyed demeanor, the flashlight still being directed at Dustin and your faces, “Get it out of my face,” Dustin argued.

“Please,” you added, your arm getting tired.

The light moved from your face to the cellar, “You got a key for this thing?”

You watched as Dustin fished said key from one of his front pants pockets and handed it to Steve, the teen handed Dustin the flashlight and you the bat, then immediately unlocking the chain. He waited for a beat before throwing the doors open and looking into the dark abyss. Dustin walked closer to Steve’s side with the flashlight pointing down the stairs. Steve grabbed the shaking light from Dustin and pointed it further down, you couldn’t see anything from your position behind Steve.

“He must be further down there,” you suggested.

“I’ll stay up here in case he tries to escape.”

The slow turning of Steve’s head to look up at Dustin was comical, and you would have laughed if the time called for it. Steve looked back to the cellar with a shake of his head and the light still shining.

“I’ll go with you, Steve.”

He immediately stood up from the crouched position on the ground, his body to its full height, so he had a few inches on your person, his shadow looming over you.

“No, you are staying with scared Henderson here.”

“But I can-”

“No,” his voice firm, standing his ground.

He got closer during the quick conversation, his chest almost touching yours. You had to take a step back leaving a sliver of space between your bodies. You didn’t want Steve to go on his own if the baby Demogorgon was down there, but you chose to not push it further when you saw the look in his eyes. The worry danced across his pupils, anxiety hidden in the shadows, a protectiveness on the front lines in his irises.

“Okay, but if you need help, just shout, okay?”

His nod was the only answer before he took the bat from your grasp, his hands tickling against your own for a moment, and your breath caught in your throat. He took the bat and headed down the stairs slowly, waiting for any noise. When he got to the bottom he walked in further and then the whole room was filled with yellow light. A minute went by, and then another, and then three whole minutes went by where there wasn’t a single noise from Steve in the cellar.

“Steve?” Dustin broke the silence.

No response.

“Steve, what’s going on down there?” you questioned, worry seeping into your words.

You and Dustin walked closer to the open doors, trying to see something of Steve, a shadow, or his shoes. Just as you were ready to head down the stairs, a blinding light from the cellar stopped you in your tracks.

“Get down here,” was all you heard from Steve.

You shared a look with Dustin then descended the stairs, Dustin two steps behind. When you got to the bottom, Steve was holding the bat with something hanging off and shone the light onto it. You grimaced, it looked to be a slimy piece of flesh, it seemed to be slightly translucent with the light beating down on it.

“Did it fucking shed?”

“Oh, shit,” Dustin groaned.

If it shed its skin, that means it’s growing bigger. And Steve pointed the light in the direction of a buried tunnel that leads outside the Henderson cellar, things just got worse.

“Oh, shit!”

The three of you shuffled closer to the hole, Steve and Dustin in the front and you leaning in from behind, “no way,” you complained.

It got away and- no- it was running around Hawkins in the dead of night, probably eating more cats. You hope Joyce and the boys got to Hopper in time, not wanting the baby to have gotten its teeth into Hopper. And you hope Will was feeling better, him being somehow connected to the tunnels made you uneasy.

“Okay, well, it’s too late to go out looking for it. So, how about we met up back here tomorrow morning? I gotta get home.”

“(Y/n)’s right, the both of you should come back around ten, and then we’ll go to the butchers.”

“For what?” Steve asked while standing up.

“Meat for bait, duh,” Dustin snarked.

Steve scoffed, “Whatever, Henderson.” He started to head for the stairs, “(Y/n), you need a ride home?” Steve asked, you and Dustin trailing behind him, the boy shutting the overhead light off.

“Yeah, I biked here and I know if my mom saw me when I got home, she'd probably have a stroke.”

So, with that, the two of you watched and waited for Dustin to head inside, lock his door, and give a thumbs up as his all-good signal. With your bike thrown into the trunk of Steve’s car and the radio volume on low, the two of you headed to your house.

…

“Looks like we have weekend plans after all.”

“I needed to clean my room, though.”

The first five minutes into the drive the two of you sat in silence, processing the information you gained tonight. Dustin had a baby Demogorgon, it ate his cat, now it ran off into the tunnels, and tomorrow morning the three of you are going to get meat to bait it so you can capture it. You just wanted to get home and make sure Will was feeling better before falling asleep.

“How’d Dustin find you? I don’t think you’ve ever crossed paths before.”

He hesitated in replying, “I was at the Wheelers, wanting to visit Nancy, and Dustin happened to be there.”

It stung to hear it, he was trying to win Nancy back. You heard their argument that day, Steve asking, almost demanding Nancy to tell him that she loved him. The way she hesitated in answering, clicked in your head fully just now. That night at Tina’s party, when they both ran off somewhere and when Steve rushed out of the house about five minutes later, sometimes during that he mentioned his love for Nancy. Steve loved Nancy. An invisible hand twisted the knife sticking out of your heart.

“You haven’t seen Nancy around, have you?” “Uh, no.”

And then silence again, your house coming into view. As Steve pulled into the driveway, you took notice of seeing no one's cars. Not Joyce’s, not Jonathan’s, just Bob’s, and you know he’s with Joyce and the boys. You didn’t want to be home alone, but the thought of asking Steve to stay wasn’t helping your growing panic.

“Do you…I could spend the night if you want. We have to meet with Henderson in the morning anyway.”

You knew what he was doing, even if he didn’t realize it. He noticed your hesitance in leaving and so he voiced the option you were also hesitant to ask. And a small part of you guessed that his parents weren’t home, and maybe a small part of him didn’t want to be home alone either.

“If you could, that would make me feel better.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” and he turned the engine off.

You unlocked the door and when you were reminded of the disaster covering your house you whirled around to Steve, his chest a hair away from you, “uh, just warning you, the inside is covered in drawings.”

He looked confused, “What-”

“It was during one of Will’s episodes,” and that clamped Steve’s mouth shut.

The two of you entered the darkened house, your steps followed by the crunching of the paper scattered across the hardwood flooring. With a flick of a switch, the house was bathed in yellow lighting, highlighting the paper taped to every surface possible in your home. You took a glance over your shoulder to look at Steve who looked both confused and also worried but seemed to be holding his tongue.

“Do you want anything to eat?” you shouted from the kitchen.

“We don’t have much right now, but there is fruit, some frozen waffles, some chocolate ice cream-”

“(Y/n), are you okay?” Steve’s close voice cut you off.

You closed the freezer door shut and turned so that your undivided attention was given to him. His hands were tucked into his front pants pockets, the sleeves of his jacket pushed up to his elbows. His right shoulder knocks against the side of the fridge, and his eyes hold empathy within.

Your fingers fidgeted with your coat sleeves, “What-what do you mean?” You stuttered out.

“You seem tense about something, and no one else is around, it’s just me. I’m a shoulder you can lean on,” his voice was hushed.

You wanted to take that offer so badly, just having someone that isn’t your family that you could express your every thought to. Someone who would understand your anxiety about this whole mess that’s ruined your lives. And you so badly wish you could just tell Steve ‘I’ve had a crush on you since eighth grade and watching you with Nancy twist the knife further into my bleeding heart, but I can’t say any of that because you love Nancy and I’m not even close to what she is.’

You looked away from Steve’s penetrating gaze, “I’m- I’m okay, just tired right now,” and you headed off to the hallway and into your room. You sorted through your draws, picking out a shirt that Steve could wear to sleep, and then you made a quick trip to Jonathan’s room and looked for a pair of sweatpants or gym shorts he could use.

“Are you avoiding something, Byers?”

You jumped from Steve’s voice, “Jesus,” a hand over your heart, “Don’t do that. And no, I’m getting you clothes to sleep in. You don’t want to sleep in your Levi’s I suspect.” You handed over the shirt and old gym shorts to Steve’s chest.

“You can change in the bathroom,” and you shut the door of your room.

You released a sigh, a hand brushing through your hair. You rushed in switching your jeans to your plaid pajama pants and threw on an old ratty shirt that used to be Jonathan’s. You thought about the sleeping arrangement and decided to just tough it out and share the bed with Steve, and if he was uncomfortable with that, you would just sleep in Jonathan’s room and give Steve your bed for the night.

Light knocking on your door broke the silence, “come in,” you called to Steve.

Steve opened the door, his head popping in first, “Is this your shirt?”

You were confused by the question, “Yeah, why?”

When Steve fully walked into your room it was like a dream come true. His hair was more fluffed and loose, strands curling and bending, his hand tucking through the strands in a nervous gesture. The shirt you gave him hugged his biceps and stretched over his chest, and with him having a longer torso than you the shirt ended up being a crop top on him, the bottom ending a few inches above his belly button. And the shorts sat low on his hips giving you the full view of Steve’s lower half and the hair leading from his belly button to down below the seams of the shorts. You gulped at the sight, but it didn’t stop there, his thighs were on display. His thighs, with thick dark coarse hair covering every inch to the very end of his legs. His sock-covered feet carried him to your dresser, his back leaning against the wood, “You think I could just sleep without a shirt?”

You almost choked on your saliva at the question, but obliged, “Ah, yeah, if it’s more comfortable for you.”

And he immediately grabbed the back of the shirt and pulled it over his head, his chestnut-colored hair being fussed with even more. And now his full chest was on display for you and you had to burn this moment into your memory in case you never get another opportunity for this. Subtly, you left a hand around your mouth to make sure it wasn’t open and catching flies.

“Uh, uh, we can- we can share my bed if- if you’re okay with that. I could sleep in Jonathan’s room if you’re not.”

“No, it’s fine. Better to stay together, you know.”

Steve walked to the side of your bed that was empty and threw the covers back before slowly sliding onto the mattress. You stayed sitting over your covers on your side for a moment, just staring at your dresser, having to keep your heart steady. You honestly might combust after tonight. With hurried movements, you got under the covers and recovered yourself, one hand under your pillow and the other gripping onto the blanket. With nothing between you and Steve, it’s almost like you could feel his breathing, every intake and every exhale he took. The heat of his back being a touch away from you, was agonizing.

It was gonna be a long night.

…

You were only ten.

You were only ten and Will was only seven at the time. Jonathan was eleven that year, but he wasn’t home that day. Joyce was at work doing overtime and Lonnie was watching you and Will after school that cool autumn day. Your friend Tessa was staying after school that day, her dad called earlier and made sure it was okay with your mom or dad. Lonnie answered and said it was fine as long as she was picked up by eight-thirty, nine at the latest. So you, Will, and Tessa played in the backyard for about an hour before heading into the house for warmth.

Will went to his room to color in private since he wasn’t comfortable showing his work around people he didn’t know. You and Tessa sat on the floor leaning against the side of your bed, your door closed all the way, something you weren’t allowed to do. It was always supposed to be just a crack. The two of you were listening to the new Donna Summers album Joyce was able to gift you for your birthday. The two of you bobbing your heads to the lyrics and production, losing yourselves to Mrs. Summers and forgetting about reality.

When the last song on side A finished, you moved the needle, and delicately flipped the record to side B, letting the needle touch the edge, a new song playing after a second. You looked over at Tessa, she was nodding and swaying her head to whatever song was playing. Her hair caught in the light, strands of her dark brown hair turning caramel, and a faint halo glittered over her head. Her eyes were closed and she had a dainty smile, her plush pink lips, her cheeks flushed with a faint rose on the apples. She looked so peaceful, just sitting with you and listening to music in your room.

She looked beautiful.

“Tessa,” your voice was a whisper.

She stopped her sway and opened her eyes to look at you. It’s like she had diamonds glittering within her pupils, they shone when she looked your way. It made you feel like a miner in the dark tunnels and you were the only one who struck the jackpot, the diamonds only shining for you, no one else was able to see their beauty.

Your actions happened before you had time to thoroughly process them. You leaned on one hand while the other reached out and rested against Tessa’s cheek, the pads of your fingers caressed her supple skin. And when it appeared she wasn’t afraid of what was happening, you took it further. You slowly leaned forward, giving her time to push you away, but she didn’t, and as your breaths were mixing, you gave her one more chance.

“If this isn’t something you want, just push me away,” your eyes look into hers.

A hand touched the point of your jaw where it met your earlobe, “I’m good,” and she closed the space.

The both of you were pretty inexperienced when it came to kissing, you were only ten after all. You stayed with your lips touching for a minute or two before Tessa got a bit bold and moved her mouth, her head tilting so her nose rested more against your cheek. She tasted sweet, like strawberries and lemonade, it made you crave more of her.

Just as you were leaning your body closer into her, the door to your room slammed open. The two of you pulled apart and your dad stood in the doorway, completely still and calculated. The flexing of his hand around the doorknob and the other flexing into a fist told you already, that he was furious.

“Tessa, your mom is here early.”

Tessa scurried from the floor and rushed out of the room to grab her stuff from the dining table. Lonnie pointed a finger at you, “You wait here,” and he left to see Tessa out and wish goodnight to her mother. You already knew what you were in for. Your heart was racing, a tremble started throughout your body, and you had to pull your knees into your chest to keep yourself together.

When you heard the sound of the door shutting louder than needed and the stomping of his feet coming down the hall, it was too late to run. Lonnie stood in the doorway, one hand on his hip and the other running over his face, rubbing against the scruff of his beard. His eyes were closed and a hollow chuckle left his mouth.

“I don’t know how I fathered two f***. With all the discipline I give to you kids, and it still somehow seeps its claws into you.”

He sighed and walked further into the room, darkness shadowing his eyes. You weren’t prepared when he leaped for your feet and yanked you hard, your head smacking against the carpet. He dragged you down the hallway, your nails trying to find an opening to grasp onto, your heart pounding out of your rib cage. With Jonathan not here, you knew he was about to give you the worst beating.

Tears were streaming down your face and sobs hiccuped from your throat, “I guess I gotta give you a good lesson. And no big brother around for protection.”

When you got to the living room he threw your legs onto the floor, and you tried to crawl away. A sudden pressure against your spine made a screaming sound out through the house. “Ah, no getting away.” You heard the metal of his belt as he unclasped it, the strain in the leather from the pulling.

You begged and pleaded through a sore throat and snot bubbles, pleading for forgiveness and saying how you’ll never do it again. But he didn’t care. He pulled the back of your shirt up and threw the belt down hard. Your cry of pain being covered by another noise of leather hitting your skin, fire running through your body. Before you could pull in a puff of air, the belt came down again.

“If I,” fire, “ever,” another flair, “see you,” the echo bounced against the walls, “kissing,” your breath caught in your lungs, “another girl,” the foot on your spine dug deeper, “you’re dead.”

He gave you a moment, this one moment to breathe, allow your skin to sting even more against the air, and your one chance to give him the answer he wants to hear.

“Do you understand? I won’t have any f*** under my roof. I’m already dealing with the fairy Will, I don’t need to hear about you running around town and kissing girls.”

You choked on your cries and sniffled past the snot bubbles forming, “I won’t do it again, I- I- I pro-mise.”

…

When you bolted upright you could still feel the stinging and burning sensation flaring over your back, like you got the beating at that moment. Your skin felt sticky with sweating building on your body, your sleep shirt, and pants clinging to your body. Strands stuck to your face and probably look frazzled. With a hand going over your face you could still feel the tear tracks that fell from your eyes and down your cheek, the stains evident on your shirt.

You looked over at Steve, his back still facing you and moving slowly. The quiet snores leaving his mouth told you he was fast asleep, and none the wiser to your dilemma. You allowed yourself to stare at him, the darkness hiding your wandering gaze and the longing within you.

When you feel the desire to reach out to him is when you remove yourself from the bed and tiptoe out of the room. You did a quick check into Joyce’s room and snuck out a carton of cigs. You did your usual routine when it came to nightmares, wake up in a sweat, quietly leave the house, go outside to the backyard and lay down, and stare at the stars. But now you’ll be smoking because it wasn’t a fake scenario, it was a memory of one of the few beatings your father inflicted on you.

You told yourself you would refrain from smoking, weed or not, but sometimes you can make an exception. You sat on the steps that lead outside, cigarette between your lips and lighter flickering on. The burn of the nicotine in your lungs honestly felt nice at this moment. An exhale of smoke clouded your vision, blurring the stars and the forest before your eyes. The sounds of crickets singing and the snapping of twigs in the forest filled the silent void.

It wasn’t long until the sound of the back doors opening and closing told you that Steve had woken up. You heard his feet padding down the steps and left his body sitting beside you. He didn’t say anything and you chose to speak first, just the sound of you inhaling.

“So…” Steve chose to speak, but it seemed he didn’t think first, “you smoke now?”

You grin, “surprised?”

“A little, is that why you hang out with Munson?”

“Okay, first of all, he’s my friend, and second…I did go to him for weed at first.”

“Wow, little Byers knows how to handle her weed.”

You inhaled again, “Yeah, well, when you have dreams that make it impossible to get even an hour of sleep, you have to resort to other options.”

You continue to just stare at the woods, fresh air, and nicotine mixing.

“Are nightmares still happening?”

You nodded, “it was better for a while, no new Demogorgon nightmares, but today, I suddenly had a memory instead of a nightmare.”

“What- what kind of memory? If- if you want to share.”

You were too tired to care about being nervous or sharing something like this with Steve, but you needed to let it out. So you took one more inhale of the dying cigarette. You held the smoke in your lungs for almost thirty seconds and let a shaky exhale of smoke out.

“It was when I was ten, I had a friend over at my house, a girl. And something in me just decided to kiss her that day, like something was in the air or whatever. My dad walked in on the two of us, and when she left he came back to my room. He dragged me by my ankles into the living room and beat me on the back with his belt. Called me a f*g and poked insults at Will. Said if he ever heard about or caught me kissing another girl, I’m dead. First of three beatings he ever gave me.”

You stubbed out the cigarette beside you on the steps, debating if you should light a new one after recounting the horror to Steve. With a look in the direction of Steve, since he was being so quiet during the whole thing, you were struck by his eyes that were holding so much sympathy it made you a little uncomfortable. It suddenly hit you that you just told Steve about a core memory about your first kiss and first beating, only one of those things worries you about his reaction.

“Steve, do you hate me because I happen to like girls?”

Now he looked shocked by your admission, “What? I-“

“Well, when you were fighting with Jonathan that day in the alley, you did call him…” you trailed off, knowing Steve got what you meant.

“I was…I was angry and pissed that day. I didn’t- I didn’t mean what I said,” he sighed. “I…My parents told me multiple times that if people weren’t upper class, didn’t have a family, didn’t have the quote-on-quote ‘white picket fence life,’ they would be messed up. That if they exercised abnormal behavior, they were a stain on the planet, on this town. And it included…”

“Liking someone of the same sex.”

“Yeah, and I used those thoughts when I was angry that day, using the rumors people spread of your family around town and school. And I saw how scared you looked when Carol started to taunt you, mentioning Tessa Anderson. So I just wanted to tell you, completely, that I don’t see you differently. You are still the badass and quiet (Y/n) Byers that I know and I’m forever glad we became friends. And I’m still sorry for what I said to Jonathan that day and in general, and I’ll be picking up those broken pieces for the coming years.”

You didn’t know what to say in response to his little speech, all you could think of was, “You’ve really matured over the past year.”

Steve let a snort out at the comment. You drank up the sound of his quiet chuckling, something you want to bottle up forever and keep tucked into your mind. With his eyes closed, it allowed you to admire his beauty in the moonlight, light bouncing off his hair, gliding over the planes on his face, the slope of his nose. He looked like a marble statue, something crafted with gentle and patient hands.

His warm, calloused hand rested on your shoulder, “We should head inside, try and get a bit of sleep.”

Picking up the pack of cigs and the lighter you stood from your stoop, Steve standing a second later and heading to the doors. Ever the gentleman he is, waiting for you to enter the screen door before following then taking the house door into his hands. You quickly went to Joyce’s room and replaced the missing items. When you turned to leave you saw that Steve was just leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, feet crossed at the ankle and his head hitting the frame.

“Are you a lost puppy all of a sudden?” you joked.

You saw a smile, “no, just felt weird to be in your room without you.”

“Oh. Well, we can go back now.” You walked closer to him, “oh, also, did I wake you up?”

He looked confused, “I mean, did me leaving the bed or room wake you up before you came out into the backyard?”

He softened at your question, “no, I was fast asleep. I woke up ‘cause it started to feel cold and the bed felt a bit empty. And when you weren’t beside me I got a bit worried and went looking for you.”

‘He’s gonna be the actual death of you’

“Oh. Well, I should be fine the rest of the night. And I’ll be quiet if I shuffle around my room in my tired state.”

He stopped you before you left Joyce’s room, “if you have another bad memory or nightmare, just… wake me up, okay? I’m here for you.”

“Uh, yeah, okay. And the same goes for you, just wake me up if something happens.”

And the two of you headed off back to your room, not another sentence between the both of you for the rest of the night. Steve with his back facing you again and you just stared at the ceiling until your lids became too heavy and you succumbed to the darkness. And thankfully it was no horrible memory from youth or a traumatizing Demogorgon killing your loved ones, no, it was a sweet and peaceful dream, one that you will keep to yourself.

…

“Rick sure was giving us a scrutinizing look.”

“We did ask for almost ten pounds of meat, (Y/n).”

“Again, thank you Steve for paying.”

The next morning when you and Steve met up with Dustin at his house and then made a quick stop at the butcher to get bait for Dart, that’s what Dustin insisted upon calling it. When you got to the woods that are close to the train tracks which lead to the junkyard, Steve began unloading supplies while you and Dustin grabbed rubber gloves.

“This is Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin?”

“Well, well, well, look who it is,” he was giving full sarcasm to Lucas.

“Sorry, man. My stupid sister turned it off.”

“Hey, don’t call Erica stupid,” you blurted out, Lucas probably not even hearing.

“Well, when you were having sister problems, Dart grew again, he escaped, and I’m pretty sure he’s a baby Demogorgon.” “Wait. What?”

“I’ll explain later. Meet me, Steve, and (Y/n) at the old junkyard.” “Steve?” Lucas sounded surprised.

You looked over at Steve, he was stuffing the nail bat into his bag along with the gasoline and threw it over his shoulder then slipped the last pair of yellow rubber gloves. He seemed to be ignoring the whole conversation.

“And bring your binoculars and wrist rocket.”

“Steve Harrington?” Lucas had to ask for confirmation.

Steve slammed the trunk shut and you bent down to grab one of the three buckets of meat. The weight of it already gives a light strain on your shoulder.

“All right, let’s go,” Steve sounded out.

The three of you left the BMW and headed into the woods.

“Just be there, stat. Over and out,” and Dustin rushed off to be next to Steve leaving you walking behind the two boys.

-----------------------

taglist: @heartyhope / @preciousbabypeter / @dessxoxsworld / @piper3113 / @animiacorn / @burn1ngw00d / @drxwstxrkxy / @m-rae23 / @noisyeggsmoneystatesman / @yournan69 / @thats-s0-ravenn / @ameliabs-world / @mayonesavegana / @gracella0709 / @gengen64 / @alecmores / @choclate32 / @stvrdustalexx / @redheadedfangirl / @agustdeeyaa / @yappydoo / @liberhoe / @hehehehannahthings / @ladybug0095 / @sweeter-innocence-fics /

*strike through means tumblr cant find your account*

#The Byers Harrington Story #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x byers!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #reader insert #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things series #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #stranger things self insert

197 notes · View notes