#st fic: elegia
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Elegia (Steve Harrington x Reader)
Summary: You get a call at 6 in the morning from your coworker Steve Harrington, demanding to know your favorite song.
Word Count: 1777
Warnings: Language, mentions of grief, guilt, & losing family in the Starcourt fire, Vecna curse stuff.
(The gif is from the Netflix Giphy account. It doesn't have anything to do with the fic but I love it lol)
In case you want to listen along: Elegia
Read Part II Here
Ring, ring!
You stirred in your sleep, trying to hold onto your peaceful dream for a bit longer…
Ring, ring!
You groaned and rolled out of bed, shuffling to the phone on your desk. Whoever it was obviously needed to talk to you at—5:58 a.m.?!
“Hello?” you said tiredly, stifling a yawn.
“Y/N, hey! It’s Steve.”
You frowned, expecting some early-bird telemarketer, not Steve Harrington.
He was your friend and Family Video coworker. Sure, you’d spent some time together hanging out outside of work, but not enough for him to be calling at this hour.
“Hey, man,” you said. “Whatever this is couldn’t have waited a couple more hours?”
“Sorry to wake you,” Steve said. “I have an important question for you.”
You felt ice in your veins. Wait, what was happening? Surely Steve wasn’t about to ask you out…right?
Not that you’d be totally opposed to the idea or anything—you were just surprised.
“Really?” you said. “What is it?”
All of your expectations came crashing down when Steve asked: “What’s your favorite song?”
You blinked a couple times, exhaustion-addled brain trying to comprehend.
“Huh?”
“Your favorite song?” Steve pressed. “What is it?”
“You woke me up for that?” you said, trying not to sound too angry or disappointed.
“I know it’s random, but it’s important. Very important!”
“More important than beauty sleep?”
“Yes.”
You sighed and rubbed your pounding forehead. Although it was stupid, Steve sounded serious. It wouldn’t hurt to play along.
“My taste is eclectic,” you said. “I listen to a bit of everything. What genre are we talking about?”
“All the genres! If you had to pick just one song, what would it be?”
You glanced at the stack of vinyls on your desk. Of all the options, there was one album, and one song on said album, that stood out.
“‘Elegia,’ by New Order,” you said. “That’s my favorite song. It’s a really nice tribute to a late friend. I listened to it a lot after…after Starcourt.”
Both your mother and brother had died in the Starcourt Mall fire, leaving you, your father, and your sister behind. Your grief ebbed and flowed like the tide, never fully leaving you.
“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” Steve said quietly. “I know it’s been hard for you.”
You weren’t really in the mood for condolences right now. You just wanted to sleep.
“It’s fine,” you said. “Listen, this was weird. I’ve got to go.”
“Wait! Do you have it on cassette—”
You slammed the phone back into its cradle.
“What a nut,” you muttered, before stumbling back to bed.
***
A couple days later, Steve and his friends were headed to Reefer Rick’s boathouse to deliver food (and beer) to Eddie.
Steve requested they take a brief pitstop.
“It’ll take less than 5 minutes,” Steve said.
“Eddie’s hungry!” Dustin protested. “We shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
“If he’s so hungry,” Max said, eyeing Dustin and Steve with disdain, “then why are you two eating all his snacks?”
Steve sheepishly closed up the container of Pringles he’d been enjoying. Dustin ignored the dig and offered Max an Oreo.
“We can take a quick detour,” Nancy said. “But Dustin’s right, we don’t want Eddie to wait too long.”
“Turn here!” Steve said suddenly. “And park by those flower beds.”
Nancy followed his directions, parking their station wagon in front of a shabby apartment building.
Robin eyed the building.
“Hey, I recognize this place,” she said. “This is where Y/N lives!”
“Y/N?” Lucas said. “Who’s that?”
“Our coworker,” Robin said with a sly smile, “and Steve’s crush.”
“They’re not my crush!” Steve snapped. “We’re friends. I just want to check in on them after all the murders and shit.”
“And give them a gift,” Dustin teased, gesturing to the bag Steve had tucked under his arm.
“It’s not a gift,” Steve explained. “It’s Vecna protection.”
“You think Y/N is a target?” Nancy asked.
“They lost their brother and mom to the Mind Flayer,” Steve said. “It hasn’t been easy for them. And I know they blame themselves. I want to make sure they’ll be okay.”
With that, he exited the station wagon. Dustin, Lucas, and Max started to follow him up the path to the stairs.
“Whoa, whoa!” Steve said when he noticed. “This is a one-man job. Stay in the car.”
“No way!” Dustin said. “We want to meet Y/N.”
“No! They don’t need to meet you right now!”
A couple days after your early-morning call from Steve, you heard a commotion from your kitchen window and pulled open the curtains. You scoffed when you took in the sight: Steve Harrington on the lawn of your apartment complex, berating a trio of younger teens and gesturing toward a waiting station wagon.
You also noticed your other coworker, Robin Buckley, and Steve’s ex, Nancy Wheeler.
“What the shit,” you muttered, before opening your window and sticking your head outside.
“Harrington!” you called. “You’re disturbing the neighborhood.”
Startled, Steve turned around and tucked something behind his back.
“Hey Y/N!” he said, plastering a grin on his face. “Happy Wednesday. Can I come in?”
“Can we come in?” the red-haired girl corrected.
“How about I come down,” you called. “I wasn’t expecting company.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Steve said. “But I have something for you.”
This was…suspicious. Even more suspicious than his strange call from a couple days ago. But curiosity got the better of you, so you closed up your window and met Steve outside.
Before you could even say anything, a curly-haired boy in a trucker hat stepped in front of you and stuck out a hand.
“Hi, I’m Dustin. Steve’s best friend and wingman.”
“Nice to meet you, Dustin. I’m Y/N.”
You greeted Robin and met Steve’s other friends, all while the man in question continuously rolled and unrolled the top of a brown paper bag—a nervous tic.
“So!” you said, turning to Steve. He shooed the others back to the station wagon as you said, “I take it, that's for me?”
“Yes!” Steve said. “I got you a gift.” He handed you the bag.
You opened up the bag and peered inside. Once you saw the gift, your breath hitched in your throat.
A brand-new cassette of Low-Life by New Order. The album “Elegia” is on.
“You got me the cassette,” you said, looking up at Steve with a furrowed brow. “Why?”
“Just…because,” he said. He couldn’t seem to look you in the eye. Why was he so nervous? Why was he giving this to you in the first place? What did “just because” mean, exactly?
You knew you should thank him, but you could only stare at the cassette, transfixed.
You thought of all the times you’d listened to the album on vinyl, sobbing, overwhelmed by grief and guilt. You thought of how your last conversation with your brother before he died on July 4th was a stupid argument, ending with you telling him you hoped he’d drop dead.
And then he did. And so did your mother.
Small drops of blood splattered on the cassette, covering the band’s name.
It took a second for you to realize it was a nosebleed. Your nosebleed.
“Aw, shit,” you said, snapping out of your grief spiral and quickly wiping the blood with your sleeve. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to space out for a second. Thank you, Steve. This is really—Steve?”
Steve grabbed the cassette and opened the box with shaking hands.
“Where’s your Walkman?” he demanded.
“What?”
“Y/N! Your Walkman!” Steve shouted. “Where is it?”
His shouts caught the attention of his friends, who had been listening to a news bulletin on the radio and whispering conspiratorially.
“I don’t have it anymore!” you said. “I gave it to my sister.”
“What’s going on?” Robin asked.
“Walkman!” Steve said, whirling around to the group with a wild look in his eyes. “We need a Walkman!”
“I have one in the glove box,” Nancy said. “Just hold tight.”
Nancy rushed to the car.
“Jesus, Harrington!” you said, confused at the urgent need to listen to New Order right this minute. “What the hell is wrong with—agh!”
You felt a zap! of pain across your skull. You winced and rubbed your forehead.
“Headaches,” Lucas whispered.
You didn’t like how Steve’s friends were looking at you—like you were a bad omen.
“Why are you all looking at me like that?” you snapped. “Seriously, what is happening?”
“Y/N, listen to me,” Steve said, voice strained as he tried to keep calm. “Nancy’s going to let you borrow her Walkman, okay? And you need to listen to ‘Elegia’ on loop.”
“Why?”
“It’s life or death!” Dustin said.
“A song is life or death?”
“Yes!”
You rolled your eyes as Steve loaded Nancy’s Walkman with Low-Life, but allowed him to put the headphones on your head and press play.
The soft opening melody of “Elegia” swirled into your ears. Despite how stupid this seemed, you loved the song. It did soothe your headache, albeit only slightly.
Steve said something to you, but you couldn’t hear. You lifted off one of the headphones.
“Keep listening,” Steve repeated. “Anytime you get a headache, or a nosebleed or…or hear a clock, just listen to ‘Elegia.’”
None of this made sense. But you agreed to keep listening to the song, as much as you could.
Dustin heard some kind of SOS message on his walkie-talkie, and it was time for them to go.
You could tell that Steve didn’t want to leave. As the others piled in the station wagon, he hesitated, and glanced back at you.
“Where are you guys off to, anyway?” you asked, pulling the headphones down around your neck.
“Probably hiking,” Steve said. “Or maybe a boat ride on the lake.”
You could tell he was lying. He didn’t look headed for a fun day outside. He looked scared, face ghastly pale. He tapped the fingers on his right hand on his thigh, drumming out a frantic melody.
“Cool,” you said. “Um, you sure you don’t want to stay? And listen to New Order with me?”
Steve smiled but shook his head.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’ve got to take care of these knuckleheads. But maybe another time, we can—”
“STEVE!” Dustin screamed from the station wagon backseat. “LET’S GO!”
With that, Steve mumbled out a goodbye, shooting you one last concerned look before climbing into the car.
“Elegia” ended, and “Sooner Than You Think” started to play.
You watched the station wagon zip off toward its next destination. You rewound the tape to the beginning of Side Two, beginning “Elegia” once more.
#steve harrington x reader#st4 spoilers#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#elegia i#st fic: elegia
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L-Z Steve Harrington One-shots Recommendations
A Little Bit Closer by @ladylannisterxo
Amazing by @mad-elia
Saviour by @magicalxdaydream
FORGOTTEN NOT by @magicchai
give it a try by @makeadealwithdean
EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE by @marleyin
whiz in the kitchen by @maxmybeloved
The Stand In by @mollysolo
The Scoundrel & The Princess by @mrshipsmcgee
goddamn chest hair by @munsster
The Night We Met - Lord Huron by @neptuneslanding
dark waters by @onceuponastory
No PDA by @pandapetals
shhh by @pasukiyo
back aches , part 2 by @peterparkergirlfriend1
pool day with Steve by @plainemmanem
Boobies! by @princessofmarvel
Stay Alive by @river-fics
love bites by @robcharlieglenn
Wipeout by @robinsgfs
And I Would Do It Again , part two by @sandwoman3
Elegia by @sattlersquarry
like a pornstar by @sharpsapphic666
you rule by @singlemomsteve
Dangerous Waters by @songbirdsingingthings
Falling All in You by @sophia-busch
don't you (forget about me) by @starberryes
Absolutely Smitten by @starryeyedstories
"When'd Steve get so hairy?" by @steves6nuggets
I just wanna taste it by @stevesdemobat
The Dad I Never Had by @st-fandom-imagines
poolside by @storiesforallfandoms
Slick Like Summer by @upsidedownwithsteve
Vulnerable by @variety-fangirl
second favorite girl by @vxntagedior
fool for you by @witchwyfe
my girlfriend's brother by @withlovemark
put away my pride by @wtfsteveharrington
good vibrations by @yellowharrington
Movie Club by @yesimwriting
Adventures In Babysitting (500+ Follower Special) by @zodiyack
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Elegia II (Steve Harrington x Reader)
Summary: Keith takes your Walkman at work, and you get a visit from Vecna.
Word Count: 2000
Warnings: ANGST CITY!!! Language, grief, guilt, mentions of blood, flayed family members, Vecna shenanigans. Also want to put a warning for verbal abuse, which might be a little strong to describe it that way, but I want to be safe.
A/N: The reader's siblings have names now—gotta love lore! The older brother is Sam, the younger sister is Grace.
This takes place after the events of ep. 7, "The Massacre at Hawkins Lab."
Read Part 1 Here. Read Part 3 Here.
For the next 24 hours, you continued listening to “Elegia.” Steve and his friends hadn’t given you a clear explanation as to why you should, so you weren’t even really sure why you did it—it just seemed like the right thing to do.
Unfortunately, your boss Keith caught you listening while restocking the shelves at work.
“Hand it over,” Keith barked, holding out a sweaty palm. “No music on the floor.”
You fidgeted with the cord of the headphones, panicked and unsure how to explain yourself.
“No, I can’t,” you said. “I need to listen.”
“Store policy. You have to be attentive to the customers, and you can’t be if you’re distracted by music. So! Hand. It. Over!”
You sighed but gave in, slapping Nancy’s Walkman into Keith’s waiting hand. He slinked off to the back office to lock it in his desk.
The rest of the day was tough without “Elegia.” Your headaches got worse and worse, and dealing with the shitty customers didn’t help.
One such shitty customer was pissed because you didn’t have The Muppets Movie.
“As I mentioned, ma’am,” you said, hoping the pain you were feeling wasn’t evident in your face. “It’s checked out. It’s supposed to be returned on Saturday.”
“But my son’s birthday is today!” the cranky woman snapped. “I need it now. What kind of a business are you running?”
Chime!
A wobbly reverberation echoed through the store. You straightened up, looking behind you.
The customer didn’t like that.
“Excuse me!” she barked, snapping her fingers at you. “I’m not quite finished.”
“Did you hear that?” you said.
“Hear what? Ugh, you’re hopeless. Let me speak to your manager.”
Summoned by those magic words, Keith appeared at the front counter.
“What seems to be the problem here?” Keith said, with his best ass-kissing smile.
Even though you weren’t supposed to leave, you slipped off to the back office. Steve told you to listen to “Elegia” if you heard a clock. That horrible warbling was reminiscent of the antique clock at your great-aunt’s house, and you didn’t want to take any chances.
You were halfway through picking the lock on Keith’s desk drawer when the trippy chiming got louder. You winced and covered your ears.
You turned and gasped when you saw a grandfather clock melting through the wall like a Dalí painting, directly to the right of the Phoebe Cates cardboard standee that Steve liked a bit too much.
“Y/N…”
A deep, rumbling voice rattled in your brain. Heartbeat quickening, you tried harder to pry open Keith’s desk drawer.
“Why did you say those horrible things?”
Suddenly, it wasn’t an unfamiliar voice talking to you—it was your older brother Sam’s voice!
You looked up and let out a sob. Sam towered over you, covered in 3rd-degree burns, as if he hadn’t died but walked right out of that fire.
“You told me to drop dead,” he said. “And then I did. You killed me, and you killed Mom, too.”
“I didn’t!” you cried out, stumbling backward.
“You did,” he spat.
“You were the one who said horrible things!” you said, voice shaking. “You told me you hated Grace and me! You said you wished I had never been born!”
“So you two are glad I’m gone?”
“No! I didn’t mean it like that!”
Back pressed against the wall, you sidestepped trying to get away from him. But Sam followed, continuing to encroach.
You blinked, and you weren’t in the back room at Family Video anymore. You were at the Fun Fair. It was that fateful night—July 4th, 1985.
Sam’s burns were gone. He still towered over you, glaring, and said, “It’s a goddamn carnival! No one fucking cares!”
“Sam,” your father said. “Don’t talk to Y/N like that.”
You remembered this conversation. It was the last one you and Sam had.
You couldn’t stop yourself from reliving it, couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “Grace has been waiting all summer for this, and you want to bail? You’re being a dick, Sam!”
“It’s fine, Y/N,” Grace said, standing close by your father and avoiding Sam’s angry gaze. “We can go home.”
“Maybe we should,” your mother said wearily. In the days leading up to the fire, she and Sam had been a lot more tired than usual.
“No!” you said. “The Fun Fair is special to Grace, so it’s special to me. Sam can’t ruin our fun. He can wait in the goddamn car.”
“You’re such a fucking bitch, you know that?” Sam spat. “God, I wish you’d never been born.”
White-hot fury exploded in your chest, and you said the words you’d regretted for months: “I hope you drop dead.”
Sam sneered at you and stalked off toward the parking lot.
You felt a hand on your shoulder. It was supposed to be your mother’s hand, telling you that she’d calm him down, that they’d be right back—only for them to end up at the mall.
You turned and screamed: it was not your mother. It was the Devil.
Desiccated, leathery skin was wrapped around his body, with tentacles sticking out of his back. Milky blue eyes bore into yours, as if he knew every thought, every feeling inside you.
You tried to run or to scream for help. But the Devil dug his claws into your shoulder, rooting you in place.
“You couldn’t even see how much pain they were in,” he said, referring to Sam and your mother. “You were too self-absorbed, too preoccupied with your frivolous fun.”
The Fun Fair melted away, revealing a nightmarish, blood-red landscape.
The Devil pinned you against a gnarled tree, tentacles reaching closer.
“Your suffering is almost at an end, Y/N.”
You started to cry. This was it, the end for you…
…until you heard it: the soft opening chords of your favorite song.
Like a siren’s song, you felt pulled to “Elegia.” You had to fight back.
You scowled at the Devil and gave him a swift kick to the kneecap.
He sputtered and stumbled, giving you time to sprint away.
Off in the distance, you saw…yourself! You were having an out of body experience. There you were, standing alone in the Family Video backroom.
Wait! You weren’t alone! Steve was there, shaking your shoulders, calling your name and trying to snap you out of it. He’d put the headphones back on your head. Robin was there, too, holding the Walkman and humming loudly along to “Elegia.” Both of them looked terrified.
The music got louder the further you got from the Devil and the closer you got to yourself.
You ran, and ran, and ran, through an ocean of blood, before diving through the portal to the real world.
You gasped and fell to your knees, shock overtaking you. You pulled the headphones down around your neck, “Elegia” now barely audible.
“Y/N!” Steve cried out, kneeling next to you. “Jesus, I thought we lost you.”
“I’m going to kill Keith for taking the Walkman!” Robin said, eyes blazing. “I swear to God, he’s a dead man.”
Robin stormed to the front of the store, shouting, “KEEEEEEITH!”
You let out a shuddering breath, unsure of how to comprehend everything that just happened.
“I—I saw someone,” you said, unable to look Steve directly in the eye. “He was like this…demon. He pretended to be my brother, and my mom. He showed me these horrible memories...”
“It’s okay, Y/N,” Steve said, rubbing circles in your back. “I’ve got you.”
Steve’s concern was sweet, but you couldn’t help but be angry with him.
“You knew,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “You knew that thing would try and get me!”
Steve paled and cleared his throat. “I mean, well, technically I—”
“That’s what your friend Dustin meant when he said it was life or death to listen to the song,” you said. You stood to your feet shakily, stepping away from Steve. “Oh my God!”
“Y/N, wait, I can explain!”
“Why didn’t you warn me?!” you said. You paced back and forth, furious. “If I had known what would happen without ‘Elegia,’ I would’ve taken off work or fought Keith on store policy! I could’ve died just then! I can’t believe you!”
You whirled around to yell at him some more, your displaced anger hard to shake, but stopped short when you noticed a red stain on his abdomen.
“You’re bleeding!” you said.
Steve adjusted his Family Video vest to hide the blood.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “I just got bit by a dog.”
“You’re a terrible liar,” you scoffed. “Sit down, I’ll bandage it up for you.”
You collected the store’s first aid kit and watched as Steve sunk into Keith’s desk chair, moving as if every muscle pained him.
“Sorry if my hands are cold,” you said, pulling a chair next to Steve’s. “Hold up your shirt for me?”
He lifted up the hem of his polo. You got a better look at the blood seeping through a messy, haphazard bandage job.
“It’s not as bad as it looks!” he said sheepishly, as you gently removed the bandage.
That was unlikely. The gruesome wound definitely looked like a lot more than a dog bite. You didn’t pry, however, and began to clean it.
“I’m sorry,” Steve said, after a few minutes of you working in silence. “I should’ve been more clear about the danger you were in. I should’ve told you everything. I just…”
He sighed.
“I wanted to keep you safe from everything that’s been going on,” he continued. “Evidently, I failed at that.”
“Technically,” you said, “you and Robin saved my life. So, not a failure.”
The first aid kit was pretty barebones. There weren’t bandages big enough to cover the whole bite, so instead, you covered it with a bunch of small ones. They were for kids and had aliens printed on them, but Steve didn’t seem to mind.
“I’ll tell you everything,” Steve said. “If you want me to. But be warned, it’s a pretty fucked up story.”
“More fucked up than meeting the Devil at the Fun Fair in my subconscious?”
“Surprisingly, yes.”
You snorted, before sticking one last bandage to the bite.
“All done. You were a great patient.” You looked up from the now-bandaged wound, shocking yourself at how close your face was to Steve’s. All the air escaped your lungs. You felt the desire to kiss him, despite the horrendously bad timing.
“You were a great doctor,” Steve said quietly. Oh, that gaze…there was something dangerous in that gaze.
“Y/N!”
Startled, you stepped away as Robin raced into the room.
“Keith said you can leave early today,” she said. “I also told Keith to never, ever, ever take your Walkman again.”
She paused, noticing how nervous you and Steve looked.
“Am I interrupting something?” she asked, a smirk playing on her lips.
“Not at all,” Steve said. “Y/N, you should go home and rest. Robin and I will hold down the fort. Keep listening, yeah?”
You wanted nothing more than to run out of the Family Video and hide under your covers for eternity, but you knew that wouldn’t solve anything. That Devil could still be lurking in your mind…and how long would the music keep him at bay?
“My dad and sister are visiting family during spring break,” you said, “and I don’t really want to be alone right now. Any chance you can tell me the truth about whatever the fuck is going on with me? And maybe help me try to fix it?”
Robin and Steve shared a look. Steve gave an imperceptible nod.
“How about we meet up after our shift ends,” Robin said. “We can gather the group and tell you everything we know about that thing you saw, and what’s going on in town.”
You agreed on a meeting time and location and left, determined to keep those headphones on for the rest of the damn day.
***
Tag List: @scenesofobx
I am considering writing a part 3 after Volume 2. Let me know if that's something you all would want to see :)
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#st4 spoilers#stranger things 4#st fanfic#my writing#elegia ii#st fic: elegia
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elegia masterlist (steve harrington x gn!reader)
You get a call at 6 in the morning from your coworker Steve Harrington, demanding to know your favorite song.
part one
part two
part three
part four
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Elegia III (Steve Harrington x Reader)
Summary: You take a shopping trip to the War Zone with the gang and plan your attack.
Word Count: 1760
Warnings: Language, grief, canon-typical fear.
This takes place during the events of ep. 8, "Papa."
Read Part 1 Here. Read Part 2 Here. Read Part 4 Here.
You didn’t realize the address Robin and Steve gave you for your after-work meetup was the War Zone. The War Zone was a superstore just outside of town that specialized in guns, ammo, hunting gear, camping supplies, and a bunch of other junk you honestly didn’t give two shits about.
You stood on the curb outside the store with your headphones on, waiting for Steve and Robin to arrive. You noticed a gaggle of high school jocks peel into the parking lot, looking pissed. The blond boy leading the charge didn’t even apologize when he bumped into you.
“Hey!” you said, pulling off your headphones. “Watch it.”
He turned and scowled at you, eyes glassy like he was sleep deprived. “You watch it, bitch!”
He reminded you of Sam on his bad days (which were pretty much every day). Seeing Sam again today, even though he wasn’t real and was part of that nightmarish hellscape, was doing a number on your nerves.
You turned away from the rude jock and put your headphones back on, ignoring whatever curses he spat at you before he barged into the store.
A few minutes later, a Winnebago zipped past and haphazardly parked in the back corner of the lot.
“What doofus drove that ugly thing here,” you muttered aloud. Your eyes widened when the door swung open and Steve stepped down, still wearing his green work vest over his striped polo. “Oh, for fucks sake.”
Following behind him were Robin, Nancy, Max, and a small girl in a pink dress.
“Hey, Y/N!” Steve said brightly.
“Steve,” you said. “Where’s your BMW?”
“It’s…in the shop.”
“You’re such a bad liar it’s laughable,” you said. “Why are we here?”
“Are you the one who almost croaked at the Family Video?” the girl in the pink dress asked rather bluntly. Robin swatted the girl’s arm.
“Don’t remind me,” you said. “I’m Y/N.”
“Erica Sinclair. Pleased to meet you. Now, are we going to stock up or not?”
The girls headed into the store, leaving you and Steve on the curb.
“I’ll explain everything,” Steve said. “Like I said I would. I can give you the overview while we pick up some stuff. You haven’t heard or seen anything else, right?”
“No. Not since I have ‘Elegia.’ I can still feel it though. Like, that Devil is in my subconscious, whispering. Waiting for the second I stop listening so he can get me again.” You cleared your throat and looked away, ashamed to admit: “To be honest, Harrington, I’m goddamn terrified.”
Steve hesitated, before putting a hand on your shoulder and squeezing it reassuringly.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he said gently. “I promise.”
He sounded so sincere, it made your heart swell a little. But you brushed these feelings away as quickly as they blossomed in your chest. This wasn’t the time for a romantic rendezvous. Plus, Steve didn’t actually like you like that. He was helping out because you were coworkers and friends, and he wanted to be nice.
“Okay,” you said. “Let’s shop.”
You spent the next half-hour collecting shiny, sharp-looking things that were hopefully lethal enough to kill the Devil. Steve informed you he was a supervillain-type creature with psychic powers that lived in an alternate dimension. They called him Vecna, after a D&D character, but he could also be called One or—the lamest option—Henry.
“He killed those other teens,” you said in a low voice while Steve loaded your shared shopping cart with gasoline. Your headphones hung around your neck, the soft notes of “Elegia” audible to only you (and Steve, due to his close proximity). “And now he wants me?”
“You and Max,” Steve said. “Well, actually, you or Max. He only needs 4 gates to get through to Hawkins. That’s why we need to kill this creep before he can get either one of you.”
“What’s Max’s favorite song?” you asked. “Just curious.”
“‘Running Up That Hill.’”
“Kate Bush!” you said with a proud nod. “She’s got good taste.”
“She’s great,” Steve said, “but I prefer Corey Hart.”
“Oh, I bet you do,” you said with a snicker. “I can just imagine you, singing in the shower with a shampoo-bottle microphone, belting out ‘Sunglasses At Night.’”
Steve raised an eyebrow mischievously. “You’ve imagined me in the shower?”
“Not like that, you perv,” you said, hoping Steve couldn't hear how hard your heart was beating. You shoved past him to throw a gilly suit into the cart.
“Put that back,” he said. He placed a hand on his hip in his usual I-know-best stance. “We don’t need that thing.”
“It’s camouflage!” you protested. “It could be useful.”
“It’s a waste of money.”
“No, the waste of money is this leather jacket you’re buying, Danny-Zuko-wannabe.”
“This leather is, like, six inches thick,” Steve said. “It’s protection so I don’t have to worry about more bat bites.”
“Stop bickering,” Robin said, before tossing a small mountain of lighters in the cart. “We’ve got to head out. Now.”
She nodded in the direction of the dickish jocks from before.
“Shit, Jason,” Steve mumbled. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Your posse convened at the registers before heading to the Winnebago, arms laden with brown paper bags adorned with the War Zone logo.
“There’s one more thing I need to catch you up on,” Steve said. “I couldn’t talk about it in the store, but there’s someone else in the RV that might startle you. Remember, Vecna’s the real killer, so don’t freak out.”
“Nothing can freak me out,” you said, before entering the RV. “Not after—Argh!”
“Hey Y/L/N!” Eddie Munson, Hawkins’ most wanted (alleged) serial killer, said. He was currently crouched under the windows with Dustin and Lucas, staying out of sight. “Is now a bad time to ask you to waive my video rental late fees?”
***
In a clearing on the outskirts of Hawkins, you worked with the Sinclair siblings to make spears for fighting the bats in the Upside Down.
“What song are you listening to,” Lucas asked after a few minutes of concentrated silence.
You removed the headphones for just a moment so Lucas and Erica could listen.
“That’s pretty,” Erica said. “Does it have words?”
“Nope,” you said. You covered your left ear, keeping the right ear free to listen to the siblings. “It’s just instrumental.”
“Doesn’t that get boring?”
“Instrumental songs make me feel like a character in a movie,” you said. “Like, this is the soundtrack of my life.”
“That’s dorky,” Erica said.
“Erica!” Lucas hissed.
“No, it’s okay,” you said. “It is pretty dorky. But this song holds a lot of emotional weight for me. Since I’ve been listening to it non-stop, I’ve been trying to separate the song from that sadness. I feel like that’s just what this Vecna guy wants. So instead, I imagine I’m some kind of badass hero, slow-mo walking toward some epic battle where I’ll emerge victorious.”
“Let’s hope you’re psychic,” Lucas said, “and we’ll ‘emerge victorious’ after our fight with Vecna.”
From across the field, Steve watched you out of the corner of his eye.
“You’re spilling gasoline,” Robin chided. “This whole area is now a fire hazard.”
“Shit, sorry,” Steve said.
“Don’t apologize for being a dingus in love,” Robin teased.
“I am so not in love,” Steve scoffed.
“Oh, really? How come you can’t keep your eyes off Y/N?”
“I’m worried about them!”
“Because…”
“Because they’re our friend, and like Max, they’re in danger.”
“Bullshit. You like them, and you have since the day Keith hired them, but you won’t do anything about it because you’ve been burned by love before.”
Steve sighed.
“Could you stop being so smart,” he said, “for just a day?”
“Nope.”
***
The plan was quite complicated: Max, Lucas, and Erica were going to the Creel House to bait Vecna into catching Max. Dustin and Eddie would distract and fight the demobats protecting the Upside Down. Nancy, Steve, and Robin would sneak into the house and kill Vecna while the bats were distracted and while he was in Max’s mind.
“So, what am I supposed to do?” you asked after the plan had been laid out.
“You have the most important job of all,” Steve said. “We’re going to drop you off at your apartment, and you’re going to stay there.”
“Excuse me?”
“Y/N,” Steve said, “this is dangerous. Really, really dangerous. You don’t have to be part of this—”
“I am part of it!” you snapped. “Vecna cursed me. As much as I want to run and hide, he’s killed so many people already and has plans to kill who knows how many more. I want to stop him before he goes after anyone I care about.”
“We could use extra help with the bats,” Dustin offered.
You had been formulating a different idea in your head after hearing Max’s role in the plan.
“No,” you said. “I want to be the one to trap Vecna.”
Steve’s eyes bugged out of his head.
“Yeah, that’s not happening.”
“It should be me!” you protested. “Max is just a kid! I couldn’t live with myself if this plan fails and…”
You trailed off, not wanting to scare the girl in question—but everyone knew what you meant.
“You don’t have to, Y/N,” Max said. “I’m fine to do it.”
“I know,” you said. “But you’re my sister Grace’s age. Too young to subject yourself to his torture on purpose. Please. I want to help. Let me do this.”
The group shared uneasy looks.
“Y/L/N the Brave,” Eddie said in awe. “I say let them join!”
Dustin, Lucas, and Erica agreed. Max looked two parts guilty and one part relieved and said, “Yeah. They can do it.”
“Are you sure, Y/N?” Nancy asked.
You nodded.
“Then it’s settled,” Robin said. “Max is on bat duty with Eddie and Dustin. Y/N goes with Lucas and Erica to the Creel House—”
“Sinclair,” Steve said, “do you have your wrist rocket?”
“Uh, yeah, always. Why?”
“Are you okay to switch with me, and go with Robin and Nance?”
“Wait,” Nancy said, “hold on, Steve—”
“Absolutely,” Lucas said with a steely, determined gaze. He raised up his slingshot. “Vecna won’t know what hit him when I send a rock through his skull.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Steve said. “Y/N, I’ll go with you and Erica to the Creel House. Otherwise, the plan stays the same. Got it?”
Everyone agreed to their new roles. You took a deep breath.
“Okay,” you said. “Let’s kill a demon.”
***
Tag List: scenesofobx
A/N One more part to go...
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fanfic#st fic: elegia#elegia iii#steve harrington#st fanfic
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Elegia IV - Finale (Steve Harrington x Reader)
Summary: With the team's plan in motion, you face Vecna once more.
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: Language, mentions of verbal abuse, canon-typical Vecna stuff (blood, mentions of death), broken bones, canon divergence.
This takes place during the events of ep. 9, “The Piggyback" (with an AU ending.)
Read Part 1 Here. Read Part 2 Here. Read Part 3 Here.
A few hours later, you, Steve, and Erica had found where in the Creel House Vecna was hiding. You and Steve waited in the front room of the house for the next phase of the plan.
Keeping silent was essential so Vecna didn’t strike before it was time. You fidgeted with the notepad in your hands, still listening to “Elegia'' in your headphones, before scrawling out a message for Steve: Thank you.
You held it up for him, and he tilted his head, confused. On his own pad, he wrote, For what?
For calling & asking my fave song. If you hadn’t, I’d be—
You flipped to a fresh page and doodled a skull. I owe you big time, you scribbled under your hasty drawing.
Steve shot you a small smile and shook his head, before writing back: You don’t owe me anything.
You hesitated and, before you lost your nerve, wrote what you’d been thinking about for the past few days: I kinda thought you called that day to ask me on a date.
In the dim light, you saw Steve’s cheeks turn pink.
A date???? Really? he wrote. He couldn’t seem to look you in the eye.
Why did you even bring that up? you thought, mentally kicking yourself. You clearly made Steve uncomfortable, solidifying that he only saw you as a friend. Maybe not even a friend! A work colleague, at best.
You nodded, mortified, and thought about calling for Vecna to take you right then and there.
Steve bent over his notepad, writing furiously. When he showed his next message, it uplifted your spirits greatly: You & me, movies, Saturday?
He watched expectantly as you wrote back. His face split into a grin when he read your response: You buy the tickets, I’ll buy the snacks. :)
***
The time came to bait Vecna. You almost didn’t want to, but you stopped the Low-Life tape and removed the headphones. You gently placed the Walkman on the floor nearby and sat cross-legged in front of the flickering blue lamp. Steve hovered nearby, arms crossed. You could feel his worried gaze on you.
Words you’d been too afraid to say for months bubbled up in your chest.
“I know why you cursed me,” you said, trying to keep the shake out of your voice. “It’s because of the guilt. I know it’s not rational to blame myself, but I do. Every damn day.”
“My brother Sam was not easy to love,” you continued. “He was angry all the time, about everything. My mom said it's because he was sensitive, and because he was insecure. She always made excuses for his shitty behavior. She acted like it was normal that we had to walk on eggshells around him. Say one wrong thing, and he’d blow up. If things didn’t go his way, he’d curse you out, threaten to hurt you. Or threaten to hurt himself.”
Tears blurred your vision. You wiped them roughly.
“Watching him with other people felt like Jekyll and Hyde,” you said. “With his friends, or his girlfriend of the week, he didn’t show his true self. He was kind, funny, and caring. But at home, behind closed doors, that pervasive anger reared its ugly head. I always got the sense that it’s because at home, he had no one to impress. He didn’t need us to like him, because we’re his family. He could scream at us and treat us like shit, and we’d have to love him.”
Steve listened intently, surprised to hear the truth about Sam Y/L/N. Sam was a grade older than Steve and you, but he always seemed like such a good guy around school.
“I wanted Sam to leave Hawkins after he graduated,” you said. “But he didn’t. He lived at home and commuted to college, continuing to torment me and Grace. So, I made my own plans to leave. It was going to be so amazing…college in New York City. I’d only have to see Sam at Thanksgiving and Christmas for the next four years! But then he died, and Mom died. I couldn’t go to college. I couldn’t leave Grace and Dad behind.”
You paused, afraid of what you were going to say next. Afraid of how it would warp Steve’s perception of you.
“I was devastated when I first heard the news,” you said, voice hoarse from holding back a sob. “Finding out Mom and Sam were dead broke me. But then, there was this…quiet relief. Sam was gone. He wasn’t going to scream at me, threaten to kill me in my sleep. I was safe from him. That relief and my guilt for feeling it goes hand in hand. I’ve felt it every day since the Fourth of July.”
“Jesus, Y/N, are you serious?”
You whipped your head around to Steve, a scornful glare on his face.
“Steve, why are you talking?” you hissed. “That’s not part of the plan!”
“You were happy that your own brother died?” Steve said, an angry edge to his voice. “That’s your family! That is just so fucked, Y/N!”
“No, no,” you said, stumbling to your feet. “You’ve got to understand, it’s complicated—”
“Bullshit!” Steve yelled. He stepped closer to you, and you noticed his brown eyes fade to a sharp, icy blue. A deep, rumbling voice echoed his own as he said: “You’re a bad person, Y/N Y/L/N. Plain and simple.”
“No!” you said. A sob escaped you. “I’m not!”
“You deserve everything that’s coming to you,” Steve said maliciously.
This wasn’t Steve anymore. This was Vecna.
You noticed a dusty old lamp sitting in a box nearby. You picked it up and swung, whacking “Steve” on the forehead. He stumbled back, giving you a chance to run down the stairs.
Max’s advice to you was to hold on to a happy memory—to use that to “outrun” Vecna in your mind and give Lucas, Robin, and Nancy time to kill him in the Upside Down.
The memory you settled on was a family vacation to the Great Lakes. Your family had stopped at some hokey, mom-and-pop diner on the drive up. The house special was Key Lime Pie, and your dad had insisted the family split a full pie five ways. It was one of the few memories you had of your family all together without arguing. Even Sam cracked a smile that day, his moody outbursts under control for once.
As you sat in your mind’s replica of that diner’s corner booth, you wondered what Steve was doing in the real world. You hoped he wouldn’t actually judge you for the things you said, the way Vecna wanted you to think he would.
Suddenly, the Key Lime Pie sitting in front of you exploded into a mess of crimson. You screamed and stumbled out of the booth, blood seeping across the vinyl tabletop.
Vecna had found you, and had you pushed against the wall…until suddenly, he was frozen, levitating.
A girl in a flower shirt with a shaved head appeared and threw him with her mind. He sailed through the window leading to the kitchen. You heard the clattering of pots and pans.
“Holy shit!” you said. “Who the hell are you?”
“My name is El,” she said. She came over and held your hand in hers. “Y/N, I saw you in the Void. I’m friends with your friends, and I know you’re facing Henry to save Max. Thank you.”
“Wait, the Void?” you said.
“I’ll keep you safe,” El said. “I know my friends care about you. Especially Steve.”
“How are you here, exactly?” you said.
With full sincerity, El said, “I piggybacked from the pizza dough freezer.”
You blinked. “Uh…”
There wasn’t more time to talk. Vecna rose from the kitchen, a scathing look on his disgusting face. El told you to hide, and you did for a while, but then Vecna got the upper hand. You tried to whack him in the spine with a chair to help El, but that just made him furious...
At some point, you got knocked unconscious. When you awoke, you were in a place of nightmares: in Vecna’s blood-red lair, tied up with vines. El was across the way, being terrorized by Vecna, also unable to move.
“C’mon, Steve,” you mumbled, though you knew he couldn’t hear. “I need ‘Elegia’!”
You waited for those familiar chords, that mournful, beautiful melody, but you heard nothing. Tears welled in your eyes—Steve must’ve decided you weren’t worth saving.
As Vecna made his way over to you, you heard a click and a scratch in the distance. An unfamiliar song started to warble through the landscape:
“Heavenly shades of night are falling, it’s twilight time. Out of the mist your voice is calling, ‘tis twilight time.”
You focused all your energy on the music, hoping another portal would appear like the one at the Family Video earlier today. The song skipped a few times, repeating, “Twi-twi-twi-twilight ti-ti-time.”
“Pathetic,” Vecna said. He chuckled darkly. “You really think you can outsmart me again? I’m not giving you the chance to get away this time, Y/N. You’re the harbinger of the fourth gate.”
He lifted his clawed hand above your head.
“Say goodbye, Y/N…”
You squeezed your eyes shut, tears running down your cheeks. You felt a dull, burning pain in your left leg, and cried out.
Wham! Suddenly, El was free from her trap, and she wasn’t done with Vecna yet. Now that he wasn’t focused on you, you could listen to the song. Another voice mingled with the recording, slightly off-key, and a portal appeared. There you were, floating in the air of the Creel House attic!
You yanked yourself free from the vines and limped to the portal.
The next thing you remember, your eyes shot open, and you sailed from the air. Gravity dropped you right into Steve’s arms. The two of you fell to the ground.
It took a moment for the pain in your leg to register. When it did, you screamed.
“It’s okay!” Steve said, holding you tight in his arms. “I got you, Y/N, I got you. You did it. You survived!”
“My leg!” you moaned. “It hurts!”
You tried to lift your head to look at it.
“NO!” Steve yelled. “Don’t look at it. It’s…”
“Broken?” you croaked out. You glanced up at Steve, surprised to see his face bruised. “How bad is it?”
Steve winced. “You weren’t planning to become a professional athlete, right?”
“There goes my Heisman,” you mumbled.
You noticed an unmoving lump of a person laying behind the lamp. It was the rude jock from the War Zone.
“What is he doing here?” you said.
“Long story,” Steve grumbled. “But you heard The Platters, right?”
“Who?”
“The Platters?” Steve said, words spilling out of him so fast you could barely comprehend. “I noticed a record player in one of the bedrooms when we were looking for Vecna, and I saw the record for ‘Twilight Time’, so I brought it up here as a contingency plan. And thank God I did, because Jason—” He nodded in the direction of the unconscious jock. “—broke the Walkman and ruined Low-Life. I guess it’s good to know that any song can stop Vecna, not just your favorite. I was kind of afraid my singing voice would make you want to stay with Vecna.”
“That was you singing along?” you said.
“Yeah. I don’t know the song well. I’m just glad it was enough.”
“I thought you gave up on me,” you said quietly. “That you didn’t want to save me because of what I said.”
“That would never happen,” Steve said, resting a hand on your cheek, eyes full of kindness and love—everything Vecna wasn’t.
“That’s twice now,” you said. “Twice in one day that you saved my life with music. Are you sure I don’t owe you anything?”
Steve shrugged. “Maybe pay for the movie tickets too?” he said, a small smile.
You tried to smile back, but the pain in your leg was becoming unbearable.
“Do you think this place has a working phone?” you said. “I think I need to go to a hospital.”
“Shit, right, right. Erica! Call an ambulance!”
***
After leaving the Creel House with Steve and Erica, the others met you all at the hospital for a status update. Nancy, Robin, and Lucas informed you all that although they gave Vecna hell—and Lucas shot his left eye out with the wrist rocket—he still somehow slipped away. However, neither you or Max could feel him anymore. He wasn’t dead, but he was defeated—for now.
Eddie, Dustin, and Max fared well against the demobats, only getting a handful of bites and scratches each. Eddie’s name was also cleared by some higher-up government agents, who informed local law enforcement that Henry Creel was very much alive and the real culprit behind the recent murders. (Of course, they didn’t tell local law enforcement how he was a psychic monster that lived in another dimension. That would be too much for them to take.)
Two days after those events, you sat in Steve’s backyard for an impromptu celebration of your temporary victory. Most everyone spent their time swimming, but they all took turns adding some colorful graffiti to your leg cast. The guests included friends that just arrived from California. It was surreal meeting El in real life, not just your mind.
“Check it out,” a strange stoner named Argyle said. “I drew a pizza shaped like weed.”
The doodle in question was prominently drawn on your ankle.
“Oh, my dad’s going to hate that,” you mumbled.
Argyle handed the Sharpie to Steve, who took a seat in the pool lounger next to yours and started drawing something by your knee.
“All right, Picasso,” you said. “What’ve you got for me?”
Steve blocked his drawing with his free hand. “No peeking!” he said. “I want it to be a surprise.”
You admired his profile as he worked, his brow furrowed with immense concentration. He looked so handsome…
“We can skip the movie tonight,” Steve said, “if you’re not feeling up to it.”
“I definitely want to go,” you said. “We just need to give ourselves plenty of time to get there and get our seats—I move at a snail's pace on crutches.”
Steve, satisfied with his artwork, snapped the cap back on the Sharpie. Still looking down at his handiwork, he said, “All done. What do you think?”
He had drawn a bouquet of—daisies? Roses? Peonies? You couldn’t actually tell what they were supposed to be, but you loved them, nonetheless. Above the bouquet, written in a beautiful cursive script, it said: “NOT TOO LATE FOR YOUR HEISMAN. -STEVE.”
“I love it,” you said, beaming.
“I’ll get you real flowers sometime,” Steve said. He looked up, and your noses were practically touching. His eyes widened.
Before you lost your nerve, you leaned in and kissed him.
He dropped the Sharpie in his hand, before wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing you back.
You weren’t sure what to expect next from Vecna. He wasn’t fully gone, and you were sure he'd try to come back for you again…
But for the first time since the Fourth of July, you chose to focus on your present moment instead of obsessing about the future or past. Your leg hurt like hell, but you were alive, and you had Steve and a gaggle of new friends to help you with whatever was to come.
***
Tag List: scenesofobx @aeumi
A/N And that's it for this mini-series. Thank you to everyone who read along. :)
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fanfic#st fic: elegia#elegia iv#steve harrington#st fanfic
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