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writer-in-theory · 2 years

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black box labels — steve harrington

summary: when something you have been trying desperately to hide from steve comes into light, you fear the worst, not knowing how wonderful steve could be. pairing: steve harrington x gn!reader category: hurt/comfort content warnings: language, heavy discussions of eating disorder recovery word count: 2.1k a/n: this is purely a self-indulgent fic because i just started thinking about how good steve would be in this kind of situation. also i couldn't resist the lil play on words there in the title with my area of study, so there we go. as always, a huge thank you to @lcvingprentjss for beta-ing and for writing the summary. i hope y'all enjoy <3

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It wasn’t obvious, at first, but the moment Steve put it together he wondered how he’d never seen it before.

He thinks this should have been a more significant moment, the day he realizes that you were suffering from something much more severe than what a tiny town like Hawkins was equipped to deal with. He might’ve pictured you sitting him down one night after he snuck through your window (even when your parents kept telling him to just come through the front door). You would have sat him on your bed and held both of his hands, teary-eyed as you admitted it. Then Steve could have hugged you immediately and reassured you even when he had no idea what to say in that situation.

Instead, Steve found out because of a stupid question.

“Babe, I’m grabbing a snack. Do you want anything?” Steve asked as he stood from where the two of you were wrapped up in each other on the couch. You considered the question, searching his eyes for a moment before shaking your head.

“No, I’m okay. I’m gonna change though, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” you told him, pulling yourself from the couch and taking the steps two at a time to get to your bedroom. It wouldn’t have bothered him, it didn’t bother him at the time, but eventually, that near-sprint out of the room would replay in a loop in Steve’s head.

“Y/N’s not really a snacking person,” your sibling called out from where they were working on homework at the kitchen island.

“Doesn’t seem like any of you are,” Steve pointed out, already knowing the pantry would be minimally stocked with snack foods like usual. It was never a problem though, for all he knew Steve was just used to being able to pick out his own groceries since he was twelve. He barely had to look before he was grabbing a box of Cheez-Its and turning to lean against the kitchen counter.

“Oh, no I just keep my snacks in my room.”

“What?” Steve nearly choked on the tiny handful of crackers he’d tossed in his mouth, eyeing your sibling with a strange look. He’d been dating you for several months now, so he knew your family and had been around to babysit your kid sibling the same way he’d babysit all the other kiddos in town, it seemed. He could normally feel comfortable enough to crack a joke with them, but this? This was weird. “What, scared of someone taking it?”

“No, dumbass, it’s because of Y/N’s, you know, eating thing,” your sibling answered coolly, as if that answered everything Steve could ever possibly need to know about the situation. Except, it really didn’t because what the hell did that mean? “I’m trying not to stress them out too much.”

“What eating thing?”

Steve witnessed the moment your sibling realized they messed up, or it was more so a look of pity that he was having to find out this way, from someone who wasn’t you. “Shit, I thought you knew.” In any other circumstance, he might’ve scolded them for cursing but instead, all Steve could do was stare at them with blank horror, hands fumbling as he fought to smack the Cheez-It box behind him on the counter. “Y/N has an eating disorder. Or they did. Still do. They’re doing better but, it’s...it’s still hard, you know?”

Eating disorder.

It was the one-time Steve was glad he’d paid attention in health class last year. Mr. Turner had talked about eating disorders once, talked about how some people didn’t see their bodies as they were. All the words from that lesson flashed through Steve’s brain at once, all the possible diagnoses and the signs, what to do if you thought someone you knew was doing that.

And shit, it all made sense, didn’t it?

The signs were plastered everywhere for him to read, even on that box he’d been holding moments before. Steve picked it up then, allowing his fingers to run over the dark black rectangle of permanent marker where he knew the nutrition facts rested. Steve knew the other boxes and bags in the pantry were like that too. He’d always assumed your family just didn’t care about what was in the food, but he never once considered, not this.

And fuck, has he ever actually seen you eat? Any time he suggests a dinner date, you’re making a new suggestion for a movie night or a day at the park. You’re always working on homework in the cafeteria, a lunchbox in front of you but now that Steve thinks about it he doesn’t think you’ve ever actually opened it in front of him.

“I—how long has this, I mean how long have they...?” Steve managed to get out around the knot tying itself in his throat. He hated to think of you suffering all this time, right under his nose. He could have been helping you, and fuck if he knew what to do but he could’ve been there. He wouldn’t have been suggesting dinner dates or offering to get you snacks if it only upset you and made you run out of the room. He could have known.

“Y/N won’t tell us how long they, you know, but they’ve been working on it for like a year now.”

“I need to talk to them,” Steve rushed out, pushing off from the counter and practically sprinting up the stairs. His heart hadn’t raced this fast since he’d fought off a full-sized Demogorgon with nothing but a nail bat. The hallway felt ten times longer than normal and he just had to get to you, to see you and tell you how much he loved you.

When he nearly skidded past your bedroom, he noticed that your door was already open. You were sitting on the edge of your bed, arms wrapped around your middle and head tilted down.

“Did you hear...?” Steve asked gently, stepping just inside the doorway but not wanting to scare you. The tiny shrug you gave in response made Steve want to cry, made his brown eyes well up with the tears, and made his lip quiver a little as he fought to control the response. “Y/N.”

“It’s fine, Steve, I get it,” you answered, confusing him more.

“What do you mean?”

“I know this is too much,” you whispered, but the words smacked him like they had been sent through a concert-grade amplifier. “You don’t have to stay.”

Steve’s expression crumbled then, as did his resolve. He rushed over to you then, knees rubbing against the carpet as he kneeled in front of you, hands reaching out for yours and head tilting down so he could get a glimpse of your tear-stained face. “Sweetheart, please look at me, please,” he practically begged, “I miss that sweet face of yours.”

You lifted your head then, eyes still swimming with tears that fell down your cheeks but there it was, a tiny hint of the smile that could break through even the heaviest of cloud covers.

“There you are,” he whispered like you were the very person who hung the sun in the sky. And, well, maybe you were because life was simply better with you around. Steve thought he’d loved his past partners, but no one could ever compare to how right you made him feel. “Y/N, you will never be too much for me. I just wish I knew.”

“I didn’t want to make you deal with that. Steve, it’s, it’s not fucking pretty, okay? It’s not just being hungry,” you stammered out through the wobbly tears, hands squeezing him as you fought to make him understand. “It’s pretty fucking ugly, is what it is.”

“I don’t care if it’s not pretty, Sweetheart. I love you and I want to be there for you no matter what that looks like,” Steve told you, thumbs rubbing over the skin of your hands.

“Oh yeah?” you challenged, a bit of fire sparking in your eyes at the promise. “You really want to come over for a dinner date and watch me fucking sob into my pasta because I can’t stand the thought of eating it? You want to have to treat me like one of those middle schoolers’ you mom around, want to have to remind me every day to have something for lunch? How about being the one to grocery shop and making sure I’m not around while you scratch out all the labels because I can’t handle even seeing them anymore? I’m so much work, Steve, you don’t understand.”

“You’re right, I don’t understand what you’re going through,” he admitted, pulling one of your hands closer to him so he could press a kiss gently to it. “But I’m here for when you want to let me in. I’ll be right there through all the tears, telling you how proud I am that you went on that dinner date. And I’ll go home and get rid of every last scale in my house, and I’ll scratch out all the labels there too because I want to be there for you, no matter what that looks like. I’m not just here for your stunning face, you know, I want to see every part of you.”

You didn’t say anything for a long time, simply watching the way your hands entwined with his, eyes following his thumb trace its pattern back and forth along the back of your hand. Then, shockingly, you let out a laugh, still shaky through the residual tears but real. “That’ll take forever, Stevie. You have so many snacks.”

“And I’ll do it,” Steve promised, unable to stifle the bright smile that washed over his face at the sign of happiness in yours. It was infectious, your joy. “Every last one, Y/N. You don’t have to hide any part of yourself from me just because you think it’s something I won’t want to see, okay? Dustin really likes you; you know, I think he’d kill me himself if I ever let you go.”

“Oh, as long as you’re only in it to keep Dustin happy,” you teased, sliding off your bed onto the floor where you could wrap your arms around Steve. It was like taking that first breath after waking up, like remembering you’re alive and feeling so grateful for it. Steve never wanted to let you go, wanted to keep you wrapped up in his arms where you were safe from whatever had made all this start in the first place.

“Yeah, it’s only because of Dustin. Not because of that laugh I love so much, or your jokes that come outta nowhere. It’s not the way you just get me, or the way you always grab my sleeve when we’re walking the hallways, so you don’t lose me. And don’t even get me started about the way y—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you laughed, reaching a hand up to cover his mouth for only a moment. “I get it, you like me a little.”

“I love you a whole bunch, Y/N,” Steve corrected, planting a kiss on your hairline.

It felt like the two of you stayed right there on your bedroom floor for hours, just wrapped up in one another. And the next morning, Steve found breakfast for himself as usual and gently slid you a little cup of fruit he’d cut up. He held your hand when you just stared at it for a while, he sat there at the dining room table far past when he’d finished his own breakfast, talking about silly anecdotes about all the babysitting he’d done recently and how Coach was on his ass at practice until, eventually, you picked up a piece of strawberry and let it slip between your lips.

“I’m proud of you, Y/N,” he told you, after each bite until eventually, it got a little easier, until the entire cup was gone, and he was beaming that brilliant smile that made your entire chest warm.

“Thanks for staying, Steve,” you would whisper, and Steve would shake his head because it would become his new life mission to make sure that someday you’d never question your worthiness of his love.

“Always, Sweetheart, always.”

TAGLIST @hargvroves @eddieussy @alessiamargaux @misha-the-mild @minispice-1 @shadetea @emily19990 @alexxavicry @raven2008

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington angst #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington self insert #stranger jays #jay writes in theory

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im-robins-bitch · 1 year

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Waltz (s.h x gn!reader)

Or, two years of you and Steve dancing around your hidden feelings has led you to this. Steve decides to finally take the lead because you were taking far too long. 1.2k

“Stevie-” You warned. His hand tangled with yours and he pressed it against the wall, your body following. He wasn’t going to let you go, it was now or never.

“You know, I hate when people call me that” His caramel eyes bore into yours.

“Yeah, I know, that's the whole point” You smiled up at him, eyes filled with mirth. You were trying to ignore that whatever this was, wasn’t the usual teasing game you liked to play. This was something more serious, more permanent.

You never had many friends before now and the thought of losing one, especially losing Steve, was terrifying. Whatever happened now, at this moment, was surely going to change the course of your relationship with Steve in one way or another. Finally, break you out of the game of chicken you two were playing. Pushing the boundaries of platonic friendship until it snapped into pieces.

“I only hate it when other people call me that”

You didn’t know if you were ready. If you heard his flirting and knew he was serious how could you hold back your stutter? When he brushed his hand against yours, how could you hide the beating of your heart, the swarm of butterflies in your stomach?

In the waltz of your relationship with Steve, you had always been leading. You had been the one to pick on him when he needed it, the one to tease him until he blushed. You felt comfortable, you were in control and control was something you had a desperate lack of in your life.

Now though, in the possible next stage of your relationship, Steve would be the one leading the dance.

The intimacy that you craved, but your body naturally sidestepped at every turn. It was just within reach. His fingertips lightly brushed against your cheek softly, like he was touching a crumbling page in a precious book.

It was Steve, your Steve. You didn’t know when you started thinking about him that way but at some point you did.

You pressed your hand over his, cradling it against your face. You cherished the warmth that seeped from his palm. It was November and somehow Steve's hands were still warm. That was just Steve all over.

Steve sucked in a breath, but he didn’t push you for any kind of verbal response. He had never been patient, but he had learnt the hard way he sometimes needed to be for you. “Stevie” You whispered. It came out more breathless than you intended, but he had a tendency to leave you that way.

Steve leaned in closer, pressing his forehead to yours. “Honey” He whispered back, just as sweetly. You hated how your cheeks felt warmer and your eyes fluttered close.

“I-I- used to hate when you called me that”

Steve grinned, nose nudging yours. It made you yearn for more, your face moving gingerly forward to try and nudge against his again. “Yeah, I know that was the whole point,” he says parroting your own words back to you.

A long summer day, spent gossiping with Robin over her lunch break at Scoops Ahoy had led to Steve’s greatest discovery. Something that had finally tipped the iceberg a little in his favour. A word that would always get you to shut up.

You were loose-lipped with Robin, her over-sharing and constant chatter leading you to be the same. It was a fast friendship, a friendship Steve pretended not to be jealous of. Somehow you began talking about pet names, probably brought about because that had been the same summer the nickname Stevie had been coined. It was a surefire way to annoy Steve, which was your favourite activity. You had confessed that honey had always been a favourite of yours, which Steve had overheard when he walked in to collect more sprinkles. Thus he found the perfect payback.

You had all spent the rest of the summer ignoring things. You Ignored the shiver that ran up your spine every time he called you honey. Steve ignored the way finally seeing you flustered made his chest ache with want. You all collectively ignored the fact that you went to Scoops Ahoy way more often than anyone who worked on the other side of town should.

You couldn’t ignore this now though. Your heart screaming at you to just move a couple more inches, to press your lips to his. “So you don't hate it now?” You watched as his soft lips formed the words, barely even comprehending they made a sentence. You shook your head, it was all you could manage.

He darted his tongue out to wet his lips. He knew it would make you have some kind of reaction. He didn’t realise the shallow gasp you would let out would make him have the reaction he did.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked. His patience was crumbling. He knew he could stretch this out, a small revenge for the past two years of your own merciless teasing. Neither of you wanted that though. He had wanted this for so long now and he finally knew that you did too.

He had torn down the tall walls you had protected yourself with brick by brick. Getting a little closer to you day after day. He saw your hard exterior, but he also saw the soft centre. The way you cared for the kids, for your friends and for him. Him being treated with extra tenderness.

Using all the courage you could muster, your hand fisted his t-shirt, pulling him the little distance that was between you and connecting your lips with his. If you were going to lose this battle, you at least wanted to be the one who made the final move.

Steve could taste the blueberry chapstick you had put on earlier and he knew every taste of the blueberry afterwards would remind him of you. Your cold hand moved from his shirt to the back of his neck, fingers entwining with his hair and tugging at it lightly. Your nose’s bumped together, trying to set a pace. You found yourself giving into his lead as you both tried to figure out how the other worked.

You pulled apart moments later, your smiles breaking the kiss. Steve gave you one more little peck as a parting gift. His head lent against yours again and he panted a little as if you had been kissing for far longer than you had. Your hand moved, pushing back his wind-swept hair that was batting against his cheek so you could press another kiss there.

Your first kiss with Steve was quick and sweet. It had been over within a minute and you still needed to find your rhythm. Steve moved his arms to wrap around you, tugging you into his chest. He still couldn’t fight his grin, it was splitting his face in two. He smacked a kiss to the top of your head, swaying the two of you side to side to the music playing in his own head.

Queue the cheesy love song, roll the ending credits. He finally had his girl. Only this was better than a John Hugh's movie because he got to kiss you again and again and again, long after the screen faded to black.

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#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington self insert #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve stranger things

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harrywavycurly · 1 year

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Hi! I love soft sugar daddy Steve! I was wondering if I could request a text convo where the reader asks Steve to buy them something for the first time? Concert tickets maybe? I just need to see his reaction 🥹 I feel like he would be so happy to do this for you

Hiii babes!!! So this spoke to my soul because the way I’d let Steven Harrington buy all my concert tickets (I’m looking at you Ms. Swift) so I hope you enjoy this!💖

-find all things Sugar Daddy Steve here✨

*Steve just wants to get you things you like and also…he’s not totally sire if you’re in a relationship or not*

#sugar daddy steve #steve harrington series #steve harrington self insert #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington social media au #steve harrington au #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve Harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington #boyfriend!steve harrington #my little fluffy haired baby

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 1 year

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The Mind Flayer

pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Byers!Reader

WC: 8.8K

warning: cursing (please message me or leave a comment if i forgot something)

summary: will is having an exorcist moment. an old player enters the arena. oh also, steve and reader are getting a bit...touchy.

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

I’m making the stancy thing go away asap cause like, just no. like steve did love nancy, but he’s getting over it quicker. THIS IS A FF IM GONNA DO AS I PLEASE

series masterlist

give applause to @alecmores for being my proof reader/beta reader/ whatever it’s called.

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It was a whirlwind once the two cars reached your house. Everyone was rushing out, limbs being pushed and shoved against someone else. You threw the door open and jumped off Steve’s lap, rushing into the house. Jonathan was laying Will on the living room couch, Joyce fussing behind him with her hands constantly moving and not stopping. Mike and the other kids storm into the house, Hopper, and Steve close behind them. You looked around the room trying to see where Bob was, he wasn’t in Hopper’s truck so he had to be with Jonathan when they left.

“Mom, mom, where is Bob?” You grabbed her shoulders.

She was shaking, her eyes red-rimmed with tear tracks covering her cheeks. She looked frantic, her eyes were haunted and hopeless as if she were in a daze. You turned your attention to Hopper now since he seemed to be in a more stable condition to answer your question.

“Hopper, where is Bob?” Your voice was firm.

His lips were in a thin line, and his nostrils flared. A hand rested on his hip, the other ran through his hair and then rubbed at his beard. His eyes darted over the place, not once staying focused on you.

“Hopper,” you grasped the arm that was resting on his hip, “what happened to Bob?”

He sighed then pulled the both of you away, further into the kitchen. You didn’t like this. He was quiet, Joyce was shaken, and Bob physically wasn’t there. You were panicking. If it’s the answer you think he’ll give you, you would fully blame yourself.

“Hopper?”

His hands held your shoulders, “(Y/n), he helped bring the power back on, but-” You knew where this conversation was going, “No, no, no,” you refused to believe it.

“(Y/n), they got to him before he could make it.”

You started to thrash out of Hopper’s grip, the kitchen felt suffocating. The feeling of watchful eyes on you, everyone judging or throwing sympathy at your state, was too much. You shoved at Hopper’s chest to try and push him away, but all he did was pull you in tight. His arms wrapped over your shoulders, your face pressed into his chest making your vision dark. Your hands clung to the jacket he wore over the hospital scrubs. Sobs choked out from your throat, tears staining the teal shirt and wetting your lashes, streaking your cheeks.

This was why you didn’t want to bring Bob into this mess. He was such a kind man and he honestly would do anything for your mom- or even your family- after only a few months. He was your boss and slowly became a father figure for you. And now you lost him to some fucking demodogs. He was probably being eaten alive at the lab right now, dying alone. You only saw him a day ago, happy about your ‘treasure hunt’ and helping Joyce.

“(Y/n), I’m sorry… he saved us though. We wouldn’t have gotten out of there if it wasn’t for him,” Hopper tried to justify his death.

You moved out of his embrace and wordlessly left the kitchen, heading to the backyard. You just needed to be alone, the silence and fresh air hopefully would help in calming you down. Sitting on the bottom step with your feet on the grass, you pull your heels to the step and bend your body forward to make yourself small in this moment. Your face is buried in the circle of your arms, your biceps covering your ears. Everything was so quiet at that moment it was like you were the only being on the planet, your lips tugged upwards a bit without your permission. It was one of those sad smiles, ones where they come unconsciously, laughing at your pain.

You were probably alone for five minutes before you heard the loud creaking of the back door hinges indicating that someone joined you. You didn’t bother looking up, wanting to ignore them and enjoy the quiet until they spoke, since you won’t do it first. It was quiet for a minute or two before they cleared their throat, but said nothing, still, you ignored them.

Then they sighed, “(Y/n)?” It was Steve, “are…is everything-” “No, Steve, I’m not okay and everything is not alright!” You didn’t mean to shout, but your anger flared.

“Bob is dead ‘cause of me,” you hissed. “He wasn’t supposed to be involved in any of this, but we needed him to find Hopper, and being brought to that lab was practically a death sentence.”

“Woah, (Y/n), no,” Steve fretted, “Bob- Bob didn’t die because of you, it’s not your fault, (Y/n).” You ignored Steve, “first it was Eleven who died ‘cause I wasn’t there, now it’s Bob 'cause he was dragged into this,” you rambled.

A gentle hand on your shoulder, “(Y/n), we just had a similar conversation about an hour ago.”

“Steve, it’s different though.”

He removed his hand, “Oh? how is it different? Tell me,” he demanded.

You wiped at the snot and tears, “you didn’t know about the Demogorgon, you weren’t even involved with any of that yet. My mom started talking about Will with her conversations through the lights that night and the following morning. And that same day, I saw and talked with Will through our living room wall. I became involved, I saw El use her powers,” you wiped your nose, “I didn’t stay with the kids at the school that night, all of them could have gotten killed. But El was the one to sacrifice herself for them. She saved them and I never even got to thank her for finding Will.” Tears fell down your cheeks again as you recalled the memory, the feelings you felt.

Steve ran a comforting hand over your back, “But that’s not your fault either, again, it was the Demogorgon. Both times it was the Demogorgons' fault. Why are you trying to blame yourself for things out of your control?” He huffed.

You had to stop for a moment.

“My dad,” was your response.

The man who constantly beat you for such simple reasons, playing it off as discipline and punishment for your mistakes, when a simple mistake could have been dropping a plate on accident. The man who shortened your childhood with each slap, with each whipping of his belt. A man who constantly saw flaws within you and not accepting you for each crack, only creating more.

“Hey,” Steve was now in front of you.

He was on one knee and his hands rested on your knees, head dipped down to make eye contact with you. His brows were raised and he licked his lips, rubbing them together. He did it two more times. Steve then brought one hand off your knee and ran his knuckles along your cheek, catching stray tears and wiping them clean. Your breath hitched at the intimacy.

“I’m sure Wonder Woman blames herself whenever she can’t save someone, but she has people who are there to help,” Steve tried to comfort.

“Steve, I don’t think you’re good at pep talks,” you joked, a wet laugh followed.

He dropped the hand from your cheek back to your knee and squeezed, “yeah, I didn’t have many of them growing up.”

“Hey,” you knocked a finger against his chin for attention, “shitty dads club?”

He exhaled a laugh, “more like a shitty parents club.”

“Sorry to break it to you, but I only have a shitty dad. I’m grateful for my mom,” a whisper to the winds.

Your bubble was back. Just the two of you, no one else existed on the planet.

You stared down at the four hands, yours resting on your thighs while Steve squeezed and rubbed your knees. Slowly and stealthy, you stretched a finger out, your pinky on one hand and your ring finger on the other. You were scared, but you suddenly felt brave at this moment to cross another line you made in the sand. Light as a feather your two fingers touched Steve’s, a silent invitation, a question for him that only he could answer. You hesitated in looking at him, not brave enough for that.

Before Steve had time to do anything, grasp your fingers or retreat, the back door opened again. This time the patron stormed down the steps and that gave away who it was, Jonathan. Steve stood up and away when you saw Jonathan standing beside you on the last step. You braced your hands on your thighs and stood up, directing your attention to your brother. He had a nasty glare thrown at Steve, his chest huffing, you scoffed at the sight. Suddenly you remembered your earlier argument and also the car incident. So you chose to pick a fight with him right now.

“Well, looks like you finally have time for your beloved sister,” you griped.

Jonathan huffed, “(Y/n) come inside,” and grabbed your bicep.

You pulled back and away, now standing in the grass just in front of Steve. A cross of your arms over your chest is your armor at this moment.

“No, Jonathan, ‘cause we have some unfinished business to talk about. Starting with: why did you fuck off with Nancy for two days and not tell me? Cause I think we have enough time right now to discuss that. Or, or, how about you brushing me off when I wanted to join you and Nancy earlier, huh? Why did you let Nancy go with you, but not me? Your sister?”

Jonathan took the last step, both of you standing in the overgrown yard. Your nails dug into your biceps, fighting off the cold chills and also restraining yourself. Jonathan was scratching at his head with one hand while the other rested in his pocket. And you knew Steve was still there since you didn’t see him leave and you could also feel his body heat, a walking furnace.

Jonathan didn’t answer any of your questions, “Okay. Since- apparently, these are college-level questions, I’ll ask small ones. First, where did you go? What was so important that needed to happen now?”

Jonathan sighed, “(Y/n), I can’t-” “We went to Illinois,” a voice interrupted.

You turned to the back porch and saw Nancy walking down the steps, joining the three of you. You wanted to turn around and look at Steve but held yourself from doing so. It would hurt to see him looking at Nancy with a certain gaze, lovestruck or heartbroken.

“Why’d you go to Illinois?” Steve asked the question.

Nancy stopped on the last step, she was the same height as Jonathan now. And the two of them looked at each other, silently talking with their eyes only, and that’s when you started to notice it. Something changed in those two days, you could sense it. The way their hands wanted to reach out for the other, their closeness in the dim lighting, how you can tell their eyes were lingering over each other’s features.

“Jonathan…” You walked closer to the pair.

Jonathan was evidently confused, you went from being hostile to suddenly approaching him as if you were a scared mouse. You ignored the shared looks from the two and grabbed his bicep like he did to you earlier and tugged him towards the shed. You spared a glance over your shoulder, Steve and Nancy closer together and both of them watching your retreating figures.

“(Y/n)-” “Did you and Nancy have sex?” You whispered.

Jonathan blanched at your outright question, so you knew it was true.

“What- What makes you think that (Y/n)?” Jonathan brushed it off.

You rolled your eyes, “I’m pretty observant, Jonathan. People-watching is my favorite pastime at school. I notice things.”

“Oh! So if we’re talking about people watching, what about you and Steve?” Jonathan fired back.

You stole a glance at Steve, “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You tried to change the topic's direction, “Steve and Nancy just broke up, and I’m not even sure if it’s official. So, you would have helped Nancy cheat on Steve.” You were talking out your ass just to ignore Jonathan.

“(Y/n), don’t play dumb. I noticed earlier, you two are touchy-feely with each other.” “We were consulting each other,” you shrugged off.

“Oh, you think douchebag Harrington will solve your problems? Is his supposed charm rubbing off on you?” He seethed.

You were taken aback, “What the hell is your problem with him, Jonathan?” “My problem is that you suddenly forgot all the shitty things he’s done!” “I didn’t forget, I’ve seen him change. If you would pay attention-” Jonathan got louder, “He didn’t even know you existed after middle school! His ‘friends’ were jackasses to you constantly, and he didn’t stop them!”

“Okay, first off, Carol and Tommy have been jackasses since fifth grade. Secondly, what about Nancy?” He got defensive now, “What does Nancy have to do with this?”

“She pretty much ignored you after seventh grade, and once all this shit happened, she’s running into your arms. Are you happy that she and Steve broke up? She broke his heart and you finally got your chance with her. Finally got the upper hand on Steve Harrington,” a harsh whisper at the end.

Jonathan sighed, his shoulders slumping, “(Y/n), I just want what’s best for you, and Steve Harrington is someone I don’t trust.”

“How about trusting me, your sister? When I say Steve has changed, why can’t you believe me? I’m the one hanging out with him, getting to see his real personality. Maybe if you made an effort, you would notice.”

“Also,” you added to your point, “Steve wants to try and work things out between the two of you, but you don’t bother.”

“Fine, whatever. After this is over, I’ll talk with Steve or some shit.” Jonathan hissed. “Whatever, I’m still pissed at you,” you rolled your eyes. “Why did you leave me behind?” Leaving the Steve/Nancy argument behind and going back to the actual one.

“I- I wasn’t thinking, (Y/n). I don’t know what you want me to say.” Jonathan argued.

“Oh, but I think you were thinking ‘cause you yelled at me to stay like you were giving a dog a command.” You gave a shove to Jonathan's shoulder.

Then you used both hands and shoved at his shoulders, using most of your strength. You did it again, and again, Jonathan stumbling slightly at your action. Then you beat your fist against his chest, your anger flaring once more.

“Why did you leave me behind? Why! Why Jonathan!” You shouted.

Something within you was ignited in a fire, “You promised we would deal with this together! You would be there for me and I would be there for you! We promised never to leave the other out of things!”

Jonathan gripped your wrist, “(Y/n)-” “Am I too weak for you? Huh? Still that useless bitch that Lonnie would always yell at!”

“No, just-”

“Worried I’ll be useless again like that night at the house!”

Jonathan then harshly tugged you into a tight hug, his arms caging you against his body, your arms immobile. You struggled against his hold, either from anger, panic, or both mixing. Eventually, your body went slack against Jonathan’s, his arms holding you up. His chin was digging into your head, your face tucked into his chest, nothing but darkness clouding your vision and Jonathan’s breathing filling your ears.

“You’re not useless, and I didn’t leave you behind ‘cause of that.” He stroked a hand over your hair. “I didn’t want to drive you into danger. Mom and Will were already in there and if you were with me, I would’ve had full tunnel vision, only worried about my family.”

You rubbed your face into his chest, an excuse for a nodding of understanding coming from his side. You fully have tunnel vision when it comes to your family or people you care about, you’ll do anything to save them from harm. But having Jonathan yell at you, push you to the side, it just felt like Lonnie was yelling at you.

“Please don’t yell at me again,” you asked, sounding like a scared child.

The two of you may have been yelling at each other not even five minutes ago, but that was different. It felt different to you, it felt like a protective sibling fight. But outside the lab, you saw Lonnie yelling at ten-year-old you. It almost felt like an actual slap to your face, something that came out of the blue.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any harm from it, I hope you know that” a hand smoothing over your shoulder blades.

“I do, just…”

“I know,” and he did.

The two of you stayed in the embrace for a moment or two longer, having resolved some problems, and maybe brought up new ones that aren’t too important tonight.

“Hey, Scooby Gang!” a booming voice yelled.

You pulled away from Jonathan and turned to the porch, Hopper standing tall and with authority, “come inside! Henderson has information,” and he walked back inside.

You and Jonathan shared a look before heading back to the house, Nancy, and Steve seemingly still outside. You flushed a bit at the thought of either one hearing your entire conversation. Jonathan rejoined Nancy and the two went back inside, and before you could follow Steve held you back with his grasp. You stared at him, bewildered at the action.

Steve’s eyes danced over your face, it was as if his fingers were caressing your cheeks. Every inch tingled, lit with fire. His eyes bored into yours deeply, like he was trying to convey a message you didn’t understand at this moment, but it was one you wanted to decipher.

“Everything…” He trailed off.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. It’s- It’s okay, Steve,” your free hand landing over his, “let’s see what Henderson’s got,” you cocked your head to the house.

…

“The Mind Flayer,” Dustin blurted as he threw Will’s d&d book onto the kitchen table.

“What the hell is that?” Hopper questioned.

Everyone except for Joyce was huddled together, listening to whatever idea came to Dustin’s mind in the past fifteen minutes. You stayed near the back, your tail end digging into the countertop with your feet crossed at your ankles and hands supported by your sides.

“It’s a monster from an unknown dimension. It’s so ancient that it doesn’t even know its true home.” Dustin answered Hopper’s question with character lore.

As Dustin continued to babble off DnD lore, you looked at everyone’s faces, watching their expressions. Hopper looked pissed and annoyed at whatever was coming out of Dustin’s mouth, Mike and Lucas were just listening, already knowing about this creature. Steve was just as confused as you were, wondering what the point of this conversation was, Jonathan quiet and stone still. Nancy was peering at Dustin, her brows furrowed with her arms crossed across her chest, and Max was just listening, blank-faced.

“Oh my god. None of this is real, it’s a kids' book,” Hopper argued.

Dustin argued back, “No, it’s a manual. It’s not for kids. And unless you know something that we don’t, this is the best metaphor-”

“Analogy,” Lucas interrupted.

“Analogy?” Dustin huffed, “That’s what you’re worried about?”

Everyone silently watched the scene, “Fine. An analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is.” Dustin flapped his hands about.

“Okay,” Nancy interrupted Dustin, “so this mind flamer thing-”

“Flayer,” you corrected the same time Dustin also fixed, “Mind Flayer.”

She just sighed and looked down at the manual, “what does it want?” Her question was directed at Dustin.

“To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s the master race.”

“Like the- the Germans?” Steve stammered.

A hand flew to your face, ‘oh god’

“Uh, the Nazis?” Dustin corrected him.

You could hear the embarrassment in Steve’s response, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, the- the Nazis.”

“Uh…If the Nazis were from another dimension, totally.” Dustin allowed. “Uh, it views other races, like us, as inferior to itself.”

“It wasn’t to spread, take over other dimensions,” Mike added.

Now Lucas spoke, “We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it.”

“That’s great. That’s great. That’s really great. Jesus!” Steve was frazzled.

He walked away from the crowded table and joined you in the back, he copied your posture and hand rubbing at his temples. His hand digging into the counter, and his pinky brushing against yours. It causes an involuntary shiver to race up your spine, a breathy exhale in response. A glance at the table your eyes met Jonathan’s, his brows raised at your duo. A jerk of your head as your response to him, you looked away and tuned in back to Steve’s presence. A kick of your sneaker against Steve’s foot pulled his attention onto you.

“Are you okay?” You tried to convey the message with only your eyes and furrowed brows.

The hand that rested against his temple ran through his hair, and he bit his bottom lip with a sigh. That was your answer, he was frustrated but he was fine.

“We kill everything it controls,” caught your attention.

“We win.” “Theoretically.”

“Great,” Hopper tugged the manual out of Nancy’s hold, his patience waning. “So, how do we kill this thing? Shoot it with Fireballs or something?”

Dustin chuckles at that, “No. No, no fire- no fireballs. Uh, you summon an undead army, uh, because…” You saw the deadly look being thrown at Dustin, “...because zombies, you- you know, they don’t- they don’t have brains, and the mind flayer, it…it…It likes brains.” Dustin stammered through.

“What the hell are we doing here?” Hopper slammed the book down, he was over it.

“I thought we were waiting for your military backup.” Dustin retorted.

“We are!” Hopper yelled, you flinched a little.

“How are they gonna stop this?” Mike demanded. “You can’t just shoot this with guns.”

“You don’t know that! We don’t know anything!” Hopper fought back.

“We know it’s already killed everybody in that lab.” A flash of Bob crossed your eyes at Mike’s statement. Your fingers curled deeper into the cool countertop, the edge digging into your palms.

“We know the monsters are gonna molt again,” Lucas added.

“We know that it’s only a matter of time before those tunnels reach this town,” Dustin spoke.

You were so tired of this already and you haven’t even reached the final fight.

“They’re right,” Joyce’s soft voice entered the room.

Everyone turned their eyes on her, you stepped away from the counter and made your way to her figure in the hallway, “we have to kill it,” her voice was like broken glass.

You could see the tension that was held in her shoulders, and how her hair was a bit unkept. You threw an arm over her shoulders and pulled her into a side hug, wanting to comfort her at this moment.

“I want to kill it.”

Hopper walked forward, “me too,” his voice was quieter now. “Me too, Joyce, okay? But how do we do that?”

Joyce sighed at Hopper, making sense of his logic.

“We don’t exactly know what we’re dealing with here.”

“No.” Mike’s squeaky voice spoke, “but he does.” And you already know who he’s talking about.

You watched Mike leave the kitchen and entered the living room, his eyes set on Will’s unconscious body.

“If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it’s Will. He’s connected to it. He’ll know its weakness.”

Max questioned his logic, “I thought we couldn’t trust him anymore? That he’s a spy for the mind flayer now?”

Everyone was now out of the kitchen and on the threshold of the destroyed living room, all eyes on Will as he slept.

“Yeah, but he can’t spy if he doesn’t know where he is.” Mike reasoned.

“What does that mean?” Steve asked.

“We need someplace we can blackout, a room that he wouldn’t recognize.” Mike clarified.

“We could… We could use the shed. Clear it out and cover the windows,” you supplied a place.

You and Hopper shared a look before he stormed out of the house, the back door slamming behind him.

…

Everyone split into groups.

All three Byers stuck together in finding fabric to cover the shed. Dustin and Lucas dug through the trash for something, and Mike and Max were in the kitchen. Nancy and Steve were in the shed once Hopper threw everything out.

Once everyone got what they were assigned or looking for, your groups met at the shed and went to work in making sure the shed wasn’t recognized by Will or the mind flayer. Every inch of space was covered in blankets, old carpet, and whatever was available and held together with duct tape and staples. A chair was set up for Will once Jonathan grabbed him from the house.

Everyone except you, Jonathan, Hopper, Joyce, and Mike went inside. The kids seemed hesitant but knew there were already enough people in the shed, not wanting to cause any alarm. Nancy and Jonathan let their hands graze across each other before parting ways. You watched them with broken eyes, then looked away catching Steve’s eyes before he turned away and left.

Now it was just the final touches before Will could be awoken. You tied him in white cording, you hated every second. Every twist tighter around his wrist, tying his ankles together, his torso being trapped against the taped chair. Mike set up a light that would shine directly onto his face, keeping everything and everyone hidden in the shadows.

“All right, you ready?” Hopper quietly asked Joyce.

“Yeah,” she sounded both hesitant but assured in her decision.

Hopper looked at you and Jonathan, you gave a nod of your head as his confirmation. He walked toward Will with a bottle of house cleaner in his grasp. He squared down and dosed a cotton ball in the strong smell and held it under Will’s nose.

After a second, Will’s head jerks up, his eyes blown wide. He looked everywhere, trying to decipher what was happening or where he was. He was struggling against the cording, his breathing ragged.

He didn’t look like Will. He has paled significantly, like a cold has taken hold of him and it hasn’t broken anytime since. His skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat, strands of hair sticking to his forehead.

“What? What? What is this?” He grunts against the restraints.

“What is this? Why am I tied up?” No one spoke.

Joyce walked forward, she lowered herself to his height, “Will, we just wanna talk to you. We’re not gonna hurt you.”

He ignored her, “Where am I?”

Hopper joined them, he held the mind flayer drawing Will made a few days ago, “You recognize this?”

Will didn’t answer, “Do you recognize this?” Hopper pressed. Will shook his head no.

“Hey,” Joyce cooed. “We wanna help you. But to do that, we have to understand how to kill it.”

Will got hostile, “Why am I tied up?” He yelled in her face. “Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up?” He kept repeating.

You had to cover your ears, and just mumble the alphabet to yourself, a panic attack rising. Will continued his yelling, this thrashing in Hopper’s hold. The lights start to flicker, and Will’s voice gets twisted and distorted at times. You had to shrink further into an already small space, this wasn’t about you with a tiny panic attack, this was about Will who was possessed.

He soon started to slow down, his words getting quieter and his body slouching forward. Hopper released his hold on Will and Joyce moved from her crouched position to a chair sitting directly in front of Will. His breathing was ragged, it was the only thing filling the room, other than your murmurs.

“Do you know what March twenty-second is?”

Will didn’t answer, his gaze blanked.

“It’s your birthday, your birthday. When you turned eight, I gave you that huge box of crayons. Do you remember that?”

He was so excited at the sight of getting to have every color in existence. Blabbering off different ideas he was gonna create.

“One hundred and twenty colors. And all your friends, they got you Star Wars toys, but all you wanted to do was draw with your new colors. And you drew this big spaceship, but it wasn’t from a movie. It was- it was your spaceship. A rainbow spaceship is what you called it, you must have used every color in the box.”

She continued to talk about the memory, how she brought the drawing to work, and showed it off proudly to everyone who entered the store. Will just watch, just breathing and saying nothing.

“Do you…Do you remember the day dad left?” Jonathan stuttered.

Will now face him. Jonathan walked closer, moving beside Joyce.

“We stayed up all night building Castle Byers…the three of us, building it the exact way you drew it. And it took so long because you were so bad at hammering.”

A choked laugh escaped you, a delightful moment in a bad memory. He missed the nail every time.

“And then it started raining, but we stayed out there anyway. We were all sick for like a week after that, (Y/n) about two. But we just had to finish it, didn’t we? We just had to.”

Then Mike spoke to Will, talking about the first day they met. On the first day of kindergarten, both of them were alone and scared. How Will said yes to Mike being his friend. You remember Will coming home that day and animatedly talking about how he made a friend, a giant smile painted on his face, you were so proud of him.

“Will, baby…if you’re in there, just please…please talk to us,” Joyce begged. “Please, I love you so much.”

It seemed like he was about to respond to Joyce, give everyone the confirmation, but he didn’t, “Let me go,” was all you got.

Everyone sighed, you weren’t getting through with Will. Suddenly Hopper wrapped a blindfold around Will’s eyes and ears. You were perplexed, but he only crooked a finger at the four of you and walked to the door. Everyone left with Hopper just behind. You waited for Hopper, but he continued forward, walking back to the house. Hopper rushed in and hastily grabbed a notepad and a pen, sitting at the table, and began to write something.

You stuck to the back of the kitchen again, still shaken up from Will’s repetitive screaming. It brought back bad memories and started to trigger something in your mind. Your arms crossed over your chest, the palms running in soothing motions over your biceps. Hopper was talking about morse code, saying Will was talking to them, but you zoned out. You let your mind go blank, the repetitive motions calming you down.

“(Y/n),” the voice sounded garbled like they were underwater.

It was like you were a zombie, with no response and sluggish movements.

A warm, but clammy touch on your cheek made you flinch from your head and come tumbling back into reality. You leaned back, the hand dropping from your face. You were perplexed at the sight of Steve standing so close to you, his back turned to the others, only focused on you.

“Sorry. I just- Jonathan said you had a- a panic attack…in the shed, earlier. You were kinda out of it when you came back.”

“Oh.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He said every word in a whisper, a message only for your ears.

You didn’t trust your vocal cords to form words, so you nodded your head instead. The conservation and moment was over when Jonathan walked to the door with his boombox in hand. That was your cue to head back to the shed with your group.

So, with a final look at Steve, you left the house and hurried behind Jonathan, trying to get up to speed on the new plan.

…

So, the new plan was pretty simple.

The four of you would take turns with Will, each of you shares a memory with him, something that held a bit of meaning. A memory that could keep him conscious, allowing him to tap a message in morse code. Which Hopper would relay back to the others through the walkie-hidden behind his back.

Jonathan went first. He placed his mixtape into the cassette player on the boombox, Should I Stay Or Should I Go was playing through the speakers. He talked about the first time he played this song for Will, how Joyce and Lonnie were fighting in the living room and the music drowned them out.

“And it was the first time you got into music. Real music.”

You would disagree with that statement, but now wasn’t the time to argue about your music taste…yours was better.

Mike talked about a campaign they had. Big insects in a sewer and how they were still on level one when they had to defeat them. Mike was throwing out D&D terms and techniques that you didn’t understand, half the words sounding like they came from Star Wars or The Hobbit.

“Then you cast Fog Cloud and saved us. You saved the whole party.” Like he was trying to do right now.

Joyce talked about different times when Will noticed someone needed a friend. Helping a little girl that was crying in the sandbox at the park, giving some boy his Tonka Truck cause he lost his. How he was always caring about people’s well-being before thinking about himself and his own needs.

Finally, it was your turn.

“Will, do you remember that time when we were drawing?” April 1980

Will was home earlier from school this particular day and you stayed home since you weren't feeling good the past few days, but you started to feel better this day. It’s like you could smell the color in the air, finally able to breathe through your nose instead of your open mouth. And you took a shower, your hair was greasy, the skin was sticky from night sweats, and you could barely leave your bed two days ago, but you took the opportunity to shower when your legs didn’t shake from your body weight.

Walking to the kitchen was when Will entered the house, so happy to see his excited face. It lit up the warmth in your chest.

“Hey, buddy,” you ruffled his hair as he stood in front of you.

“Are you feeling better? You don’t sound like a cat anymore.” He and Jonathan joked that you were coughing up hairballs. It was hilarious to them, but you couldn’t find any energy to smack them.

“Ha ha. Yes, I feel better. I even showered, but couldn’t clean my sheets… Would you be a doll-”

“No.”

“Will, come on! Please! I just need you to get them off my bed and throw them into the washer and dryer. I’ll have Jonathan put them back when he’s home.” Your hands clasped against your chest, bottom lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout.

You knew he was gonna do it eventually, even Will knew he was gonna do it, but he was pretending to ponder over the request. Wanting to keep you on edge.

He tapped a theatrical finger on his chin, “hmm. If I do this for you, will you come draw with me?”

You grinned at the request, “I would have done that even if I didn’t ask.”

“Yeah I know, sometimes I just want to hold you hostage.” And he ran off to his room before running to yours, backpack gone. You were taken aback by the phrasing, a giggling slipping.

Once your laundry was in the dryer, you and Will made an artist mess at the kitchen table. Crayons, colored pencils, markers, and blank white paper covered every inch of that small table. Probably should have used the dining table, but it was too late.

You were doing simple designs. Flowers, grassy hills, decent mountains, sometimes just doing simple looping that formed something in the end. You would check in on Will every on and again, he was being very quiet. Every time you tried to lean over and glance at his paper, he would pull back and turn the paper away from your view.

“What are you hiding?” A sly remark.

“Nothing, it’s a surprise.”

“Oh! A surprise, for whom?” You poked fingers into his ribs.

He squirmed away from the offending digits, even moved to the chair across from you. You just grinned at the dedication to art, choosing to not bother him further, and went back to the quiet, only sounds of your breathing and the movement of whatever was in your hand against the paper.

After about two hours of drawing, mostly quiet with the radio playing in the background, you tried to get another look when you got up from the table and went to the bathroom. On your way back you tried to sneak past Will, but you didn’t do a very good job since the only thing in your field of vision was a piece of paper with the words GET BACK written in red crayon.

“Can’t I get a little peek?” You asked when leaving Will’s side and heading back to your chair.

“In a little, I’m not finished,” he murmured.

“Okay.” And you felt him alone again after that.

Jonathan came home an hour later, you immediately asked him to put the clean sheets on your bed. Better to ambush him now than to wait later. He said Joyce would be working a bit late tonight so he was gonna make the three of you dinner.

“Can’t we order out? Just tonight?” You pleaded.

Jonathan huffed, “what is it you want so badly?”

“I really want a Benny’s burger, oh, and a milkshake! Please, Jonathan! I need something cold for my throat.”

Will soon joined in on your pleading, and after a moment Jonathan dropped his head. Bingo. He grabbed his coat, wallet, and keys and headed out the front door, his car engine turning on after a second and his headlights left the living room.

“Always caves,” you chuckled.

You headed to the living room ready to watch a movie in the meantime. You popped the VHS of Grease into the player and waited for it to load the screen.

“(Y/n),” Will’s tiny voice called out.

You turned away from the tv and glanced at the kitchen, Will standing at the end of the hallway with his paper in hand.

You beckoned him forward, a hand dangling over the side, “what’s up?”

“I…I drew this…for you,” he was nervous.

You gently took the paper and held it with both hands in front of you. You scanned over the drawing, a drawing of you. He used crayons to fill the page with color, the box Joyce bought for his birthday this year. Your hair was shaded in, eyes bright with life only Will was capable of capturing in a drawing. A smile adoring your features, apples of your cheeks full.

It wasn’t until you saw a drop of water land on the paper did you realize you had tears in your eyes. Quickly you wiped your face and eyes clean, not wanting to ruin an inch more of the paper.

“I…I love it. Thank you, Will.”

You immediately stood from the couch and grabbed Will into a tight hug, not giving him an inch of space.

“I’m gonna put it in a frame and hang it on my wall,” you mumbled into his hair.

When you finished retelling the memory the house phone suddenly went off, Will’s head snapping at the noise. He was alerted. You panicked, but the phone stopped after the second ring. A sigh of relief was cut short when the phone rang again and then stopped again. You watched as Will’s eyes zoned out then started to close, his eyes zooming behind his lids.

“Will? Will, can you hear me?” You clasped your hands over his cheeks.

His breathing was heavy, he was panting.

“It knows. It knows where we are,” Hopper crouched beside Will.

Joyce came into view with the filled syringe and plunged it into Will’s upper arm. His head went limp. Everyone stood still for a moment before Hopper, Jonathan, and Mike headed out of the shed, the monsters screeching in the close distance. Jonathan came rushing back inside a minute later.

“They’re coming!”

“What?” You jumped to untie Will, everyone joining in to get the task done quicker.

“Come on. We gotta go.” Hopper commanded.

Once Will was freed Jonathan carried him to the house, and everyone rushed out. Everyone now gathered in the living room, Will’s unconscious body was in his room.

“Get away from the windows, are you guys stupid!” You yelled at Lucas, Max, and Mike.

Hopper was holding two guns and held one out to Jonathan, “Do you know how to use this?”

“What?”

“Can you use this?” Hopper repeated.

Just as you were about to step forward, Nancy beat you to the punch, “I can.” And Hopper threw her the rifle.

You went for the ax instead, lining up at the front with Nancy and the rifle, Steve and his bat, and Hopper and his gun at the end. The four of you kept an eye on the window and front door, watching and waiting for any movement. The screeching slowly was getting louder, they were getting closer.

“Where are they?” Max asked, but no one had an answer.

It went quiet, too quiet. It made your heart race faster. Then a loud thudding noise to the right of the house made you jump, everyone turning at the noise.

“What are they doing?” Nancy questioned.

There wasn’t any more noise from the dining area, a snarling noise back in the living drew the attention. They were groaning, screeching, rustling the bushes at the front of the house. They were toying with their food.

Then it all abruptly stops and it’s deadly silent again.

You held your breath before one of them crashed through the open window and was thrown across the room. Everyone screams in surprise and terror. All of you waited with bated breath for movement, any moment for it lunges and devours each one of you. But no movement, not even a twitch, it was dead on impact. Hopper trudges forward slowly, every one a step behind.

“Holy shit,” Dustin whispered.

“Is it dead?” Max voiced.

Hopper kept his gun aimed at it, his foot coming into contact with its flowering head. It rolled to the side, it was dead. Everyone’s guard lowered, sighs of relief filling the room. You lowered the ax to the floor, the handle slipping from your grasp. But your heart spiked when you heard the creaking of the front door. Guards were up, guns were pointed. You watched as the locks slowly undid themselves and the door was pushed open.

Your mouth was agape at the sight before you.

Walking through the threshold, there she stood, in all her glory.

El was dressed in a black shirt and oversized blazer with the sleeves rolled up, light denim jeans cuffed at the ankles of her white converses. Her hair was slicked back, you could tell it was longer since the last time you saw her. Her eyes were smudged with coal black shadow and she had a line of blood slowly dripping from her left nostril.

“El?” You voiced what everyone was thinking.

…

You watched the scene before your very eyes.

Mike and El walk closer to each other before they collapse into a tight embrace. Mike’s head rested on El’s shoulder, his body hunched from the year of growth. El’s hands clinging to Mike’s jacket, her tears rolling down her cheeks.

Mike pulled back, his hands on her upper arms, “I never gave up on you. I called you every night. Every night for-”

“Three hundred fifty-three days. I heard.”

She’s been alive this whole time, for a whole year she’s been alive and in Hawkins.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were there? That you were okay?”

“Because I wouldn’t let her,” Hopper’s voice interrupted.

A rage formed within your heart.

“The hell is this? Where have you been?” “Where have you been?” And Hopper pulled her into a side hug. They were arguing like they’ve…been…

“You knew?” You were irate.

Hopper knew, you’ve told him before, how you wished you stayed at the school. How you blame El’s death on your selfishness, wanting to go with your brother then watch the actual children. You’ve been beating yourself over this for a year, but it was pointless. She’s been alive this whole time and apparently staying with Hopper. “You’ve been hiding her,” Mike was just as furious as you, but his anger came from a different place, “you’ve been hiding her this whole time!” He slammed his fist into Hopper’s back.

“Hey!” Hopper grabbed his shirt, “let’s talk, alone,” and they left the living room before a door closed, shutting them off.

Lucas and Dustin throw their arms around El, her own wrapping over their shoulders.

“We missed you,” Lucas’ voice was muffled.

“I missed you, too,” El confirmed.

It was such a nice sight for once, the kids were happy to see an old face, as were you. You waited to have your moment with Eleven, content with watching them during this peaceful moment.

Suddenly El jutted a hand out and stuck her thumb into Dustin’s mouth, you were taken aback at the action.

“Teeth,” was all she said.

“What?”

“You have teeth.”

Oh yeah, Dustin grew in his front teeth over the summer. Would not stop showing them off for the first two months. “Oh. You like these pearls?” And he did a bad Chewbacca growl, which is something he also did for a few months at random.

“Eleven?” Max stepped forward, you could tell she was a bit nervous, “Hey. Um, I’m Max.” She held a hand out in greeting, “I heard a lot about you.” But El didn’t shake her hand or even smile at the girl, she just brushed past her and walked towards you.

You wanted to consult Max, but right now you needed to remind yourself El was alive. Her arms wrapped around your waist, her face hiding in the crook of your neck. Your arms over her shoulder pulled her in tightly, your face pressing into her slicked hair.

“I’m so relieved you’re alive,” you hummed in her skin.

You pulled apart, hands resting on her shoulders. A brilliant smile was on her face and you were overjoyed at the sight. A knuckle knocked playfully into her chubby cheeks.

“I love the new look.”

A wet chuckle, “bitchin’.”

“Yeah, it’s bitchin’.”

You wanted to spend more time with her, but knew she wanted to talk with Joyce. And also right now there were more pressing matters at hand, so you freed her with a quick kiss on her hair and watched Joyce embrace her.

With El now with Joyce, you walked to Max and the two boys. Her guard was up, arms protective over her chest, eyes looking everywhere, her shoes scuffing into the wood flooring. You taped a finger on her shoulder drawing her attention to you now.

“She doesn’t mean anything rude, she just wants to see familiar faces.”

Max shrugged her shoulders quickly, “yeah, yeah I- I understand.”

“I’m sure the both of you would be great friends in the near future.”

…

“It’s not like it was before. It’s grown.” Hopper sighed, “A lot. And, I mean, that’s considering we can get in there. The place is crawling with those dogs.”

“Demo-dogs,” Dustin had to clarify.

“I’m sorry, what?” “I said, uh, Demo-dogs. Like Demogorgon and dogs.”

You placed a hand on Dustin’s shoulder, “Now’s, not the time, Dustin. Please.”

“Right, yeah. Sorry,” and he shut his mouth.

“I can do it,” El said to Hopper.

“You’re not hearing me,” Hopper sighed.

“I’m hearing you,” she said firmly, “I can do it.”

“Even if El can,” Mike added, “there’s still another problem. If the brain dies, the body dies.”

“I thought that was the whole point,” Max was confused.

“It is, but if we’re really right about this…I mean, if El closes the gate and kills the mind flayer’s army-”

“Will’s a part of that army,” Lucas mentioned.

“Will could die,” anguish struck your heart.

No one knew what to say. The plan needed to happen, El had to close the gate, but if doing so caused Will to die, you would do anything to forfeit it all. Joyce stood from the table and strode to Will’s room, you followed a step behind with Jonathan on your tail. Soon everyone walked down the hall and went to Will’s room. He was still laying on his sheets, his chest moving up and down to show his breathing, but his body hadn't moved an inch.

“He likes it cold.”

“What?” You weren’t sure you heard Joyce.

“It’s what Will kept saying to me. He likes it cold.” She walked to the open window and shut it closed, “We keep giving it what it wants.”

“If this is a virus, and Will’s the host, then…” Nancy, ever the smart one.

“Then we need to make the host uninhabitable.” Jonathan finished.

“So if he likes it cold…” you stated.

“We need to burn it out of him.” A wrathful tone seeps through Joyce’s sentence.

“We have to do it somewhere he doesn’t know this time.”

“Yeah, somewhere far away,” Mike and Dustin noted.

Everyone tried to think of a place, somewhere we could stache Will without worrying about the mind flayer coming a second time.

“I know where,” Hopper’s deep voice realized.

…

“Are you coming?”

With Will waiting in Jonathan’s car, Hopper gave Jonathan the directions to his cabin in the woods where Jonathan and Joyce would burn out the flayer from Will and once that was done, radio Hopper and El would close the gate. Ending all of this for good. But when Jonathan asked if you were joining the two of them, you hesitated.

You wanted to be there for Will, so badly, but you knew you weren’t needed there. With the other three kids staying behind, you were learning from last time and staying with the kids. If something were to go wrong, you would be there to protect them from anything, even if it were to kill you.

“I’m, uh, I’m- I’m gonna stay here. You won’t need me anyway.”

“Are- Are you sure?” You heard the wariness in his voice.

“Yeah. I’ve always been the best babysitter,” you joked, trying to loosen the tension.

So, with a ‘see you later’ hug from Jonathan and an ‘I love you so much hug’ from Joyce, you headed back inside the house. The kids were waiting in the living room, the boys saying their goodbyes to El, making her promise to come back, “for real this time,” Lucas emphasized.

You made a detour into the kitchen, getting a drink, or just mindlessly walking around your house when you saw light from the backyard. Stepping closer to the sink and peering out the window, you saw Nancy and Steve standing beside each other. The two of them looked through the pile of stuff Hopper threw out of the shed earlier, looking for heaters, or anything for extra warmth. You couldn’t tell what they were talking about, and the dark distance didn’t allow you to gaze at their faces. They just stood in front of each other for a minute, maybe even two, before Steve walked away and back to the house.

You made haste to get away from the window, not wanting Steve to know you were spying on, what seemed like an intimate moment between the two. As you were making your exit from the kitchen, the back door opened telling you Steve was back. And if that wasn’t enough, his voice calling your name stopped you dead in your tracks. You spun around to face him, curiosity openly displayed on his face.

“Hey, uh, are you…are you going to Hopper’s cabin?” Then he backtracked his question before you could answer, “That’s dumb, of course, you are, he’s your-”

“Actually, I decided to stay behind,” your answer stopped his ramble.

His head tilted, a confused puppy came to mind, “oh. I just…I just thought since…”

“I know. I just…I just thought you guys would need me more.” A shrug of shoulders, “I can put up quite the fight when I’m not panicked.”

A laugh was shared between the both of you.

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

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mrspellcaster · 2 years

Text

THE BEE AND HER FLOWERS

- Steve Harrington x Nancy’s childhood bsf F!Reader

summary: reader is nancy’s childhood best friend that is returning to Hawkins after a few years. Hawkins is slightly more handsome than she remembers word count : 2.9k

warnings: intermediate mommy issues for reader (mom disappeared), karen wheeler <3, me pushing my ronance agenda, angst for a moment, swearing, use of “baby” non romantically, just pretend with me here

a/n: thank you so much for the love on the first chapter of this series it truly makes me so happy i can’t express my appreciation, i’m sending everyone all my love and good wishes. thanks for reading !

1/3 2/3 3/3

That same Wednesday in August you met Steve you also found out your new home was adjacent to Max Mayfield’s. It was your assumption the reason you hadn’t noticed the fiery haired girl with a temper to rival yours, was because she, also like you, was an unsanctioned member of the Wheeler household.

You liked her. She was bright, fierce like Nancy with a similar level of composure. Max also had a similar dynamic with her mother as you and your father, with the parent always working but a pair inseparably tied together by loss and love.

The next morning you again found yourself at the Wheeler residence.

At this hour you decided it would be better to use the front door, which just as you assumed was unlocked.

You closed it gently behind you and caught sight of curly blonde hair, bigger than you remembered, bouncing around the kitchen. Karen Wheeler.

She turned around at your quiet hello, so very beautiful and so very happy to see you.

More quickly than you would’ve thought possibly she has you wrapped in her arms. “Oh my dear!” She rocks you side to side. “Nancy told me you were coming back and I am just so glad to see you.” She leans backward to look at you, “And good gracious aren’t you gorgeous.” You turn sheepish under her fawning eyes.

Karen’s eyes shine as she places a delicate hand on your cheek,”I know your mother would be so proud of you.”

There it is.

Karen Wheeler was one of the few people who knew of your mother’s disappearance. Of course when you and Nancy had become friends your mothers’ bonded, you’d both made sure of it.

Your mom was always the unconventional one. A self proclaimed medium who you whole heartedly believed in. Who you knew loved you and saw you. And maybe that wasn’t anything magic beyond a mother’s intuition but she was everything to you.

Her break came in the form of many visions. Children hurting, hurting others, some great unknown evil. Pain in Hawkins, a terrible danger looming overhead, or perhaps underneath.

She couldn’t take it. Not in the town she decided to call her home, where she decided to raise a family, to raise you.

You remember the night she came into your room when you were sleeping. It was too dark to tell but you knew from her voice she was crying. She had whispered I love you over and over again, I’m sorry.

You always wondered what would’ve happened if you’d done more than sleepily tell her you loved her back. Your father never let you blame yourself, when you went downstairs the next morning he hid his tears and within the next month you moved to the city.

Mrs Wheeler took another long look at you then swiftly turned around to dab at her eyes. There was a brief pause as she collected herself, placed her hands on the front of her apron, then she decided to go back to the eggs she was frying. “Breakfast will be ready in a second if your hungry. Nancy hasn’t been down yet so I think she’s still sleeping but she shouldn’t mind you waking her. The boys are still asleep in the basement.”

You hope your voice is half as grateful as you feel right now. “Thank you Mrs Wheeler.” Its a moment where you wish you were better with your words, but at her look you understand she sees exactly how you feel.

You get up a few stairs before you hear her voice again,”Baby I hope you already know but this house is your home whenever you want it to be.”

The love you see in her, the patience and kindness. What a woman. “Thank you Mrs. Wheeler, you’re too good to me.” Her laugh is like music.

When you reached the top of the stairs you were hit with a wave of immense deja vu, so much you felt like staggering backwards. The hallway you ran up and down over and over as a kid, the door leading to your safe space, the carpet where you scrapped your knees.

You knock firmly on Nancy’s door and hear her groan, “Leave me.” In your head you can imagine her face half buried in a pillow and are met with that exact sight as you open the door.

Gently you close the it behind you, Nancy lifts her head, all bedhead and rumpled clothing at the soft noise. She gives you a tired smile and places her face back into the pillow, “Beee.”

There’s a beat before she rolls over to make room for you on the bed and your comfortable enough to climb under the covers next to her.

You look around her room, the Tom Cruise poster you got her, the still pink walls, her dainty bed frame. A large sigh escapes you and Nancy turns her head to peek one eye at you. You fill the silence as you stare at her ceiling,”I missed your mom.”

“I know. She missed you too.” She comes to rest her head on your shoulder. “Not as much as me though Bumblebee.” You snort a laugh. “How are you feeling? About being back and all.”

Another big breath. “I don’t know how to describe it. I know it’s stupid, but it was easier to imagine my mom stayed in Hawkins when we moved. Like she would always be here on the other side waiting for us, for me.”

Nancy takes your hand and you huff away the your heartache. “Anyway, tell me why was Steve Hairy Harrington in your basement last night?”

You feel her hushed laughter on your neck, “It’s “the hair” Bee.”

“Oops.” You couldn’t care less.

She chooses her words carefully, “It’s not- I’m very grateful for him you know? He’s been very helpful with the kids always watching their backs making sure they’re safe. It wasn’t any bodies fault we broke up, there were things, big things we couldn’t have expected or known how to deal with. But he’s a friend, he’s always gonna be a friend to me.”

An inexplicable weight on your chest is lifted, you try not to think about it. You push her lightly,” So what I’m hearing is Nancy Wheeler is on the market.”

She is silent for a moment and you look down to find her blushing furiously. You turn so suddenly you knock her head from your shoulder. “You have a crush! Nance that’s the best news I’ve gotten since they decided to make a sequel to a new hope!”

You didn’t know it was possible for someone to turn so red, but there was a sadness, a shame in her eyes that made your heartache return tenfold.

Your voice becomes much quieter, softer. “Nance?”

She looks up at you with big watery eyes. “Do you think you could ever hate me?” Your heart breaks into a million pieces.

You wrap her in your arms and hold her tightly to your chest with a tone of voice that leaves no room for doubt. “Never. I could never hate you Nancy, not now not ever.”

“Even if I liked girls?” Her voice is so quiet.

“Oh baby no, I will always love you, always. I love you so much, I would walk through hell for you. Fuck I would fold paper 8 times for you.” She laughs, it’s watery, and you can’t help but hold her tighter. “You’re my best friend Nance, I’d probably still have your back even if you killed someone.”

She holds you tighter back. “I love you.”

You smile brightly at her, “I know. What else is new?”

Nancy shoves you gently with her shocking strength and counts off a ridiculous list, “I shoot guns, I’m probably on a government watch list, I fought a giant monster made of flesh and bones.”

You laugh and she smiles at you. Again her voice goes quiet, “The girl from the basement yesterday, Robin.”

“She’s gorgeous.” Now probably wasn’t the right time to say you’d clocked them as soon as you saw them in the same room.

Nancy’s head falls back dramatically on her pillow. She sighs dreamily, “Isn’t she?”

“I think she likes you too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I saw the way she was looking at you Nance.” The way they both blushed under the others stare, the way they spoke each-others names.

You’re smiling at each other so brightly, a battle of two suns.

Nancy’s expression turns more playful, an eyebrow raises, “And I saw the way Steve looked at you.”

You bite your lip to keep your expression neutral. “Isn’t that like girl code or something?” For some reason you can’t meet her eyes.

She’s laughing at you, “You guys are like my best friends. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t want to see you happy?”

You turn back to her, “Nance, I think he’s the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

Nancy smiles smugly,” And he’s a great kisser.”

You whack her with a pillow.

————-

The second time you see Steve Harrington you’re sitting on the top of your house. He was pulling into Max’s driveway in his pretty maroon BMW and you spotted Robin in the passenger’s seat.

You watched them bicker about something animatedly before Robin noticed you, abruptly stopped talking; Steve didn’t. You watch her say his name, once twice until she got his attention, and his eyes followed hers straight to you.

His mouth opens slightly and you’re betting what little money you have the sound that escaped him was a soft, “Oh.”

You climb down using the back porch and see Max at the same time locking her door. She takes off her walkman when she hears you call her name.

Steve rolls his window down when you both reach the car and places his elbow on the frame. “Hi- Hey! It’s good to- It’s good to see you! Here, where you live.” You lean over him with a hand on the roof of his car when Max climbs in, and he blanks. “At your house.”

Robin slaps him on the shoulder

and he yelps. “Smooth.” He glares at her and she raises her hands in defense,”No seriously Romeo, I think this is some of your best work.”

Steve frowns and tries again, “We’re gonna drop Max off at the arcade on our way to work. You should stop by, to see us sometime, If you want, no pressure, I just, you know, would like to see you. But don’t feel like you have to-“

“Okay I will.” His big eyes blink up at you and your easy response.

Maybe you were wrong. In the daylight his eyes looked more hazel than the brown you’d first thought they were. You think it would be nice to spend a long time picking out the different shades in them.

“I’ll be seeing you, Steve.” You lean in closer to the window to say your goodbyes, “Bye Robin, bye Max.”

You take a step back. It takes him a minute but at both Max and Robin’s responding waves he says bye back airily. Steve wonders when he got so breathless.

His car pulls out slowly, stuttering on the turf road and you watch as it disappears behind a corner, out of sight, heavily in mind.

————

Steve hasn’t stopped pacing for the past 30 minutes. Not since he invited you to Family Video, his job, where he works.

Or maybe he didn’t invite you, maybe he did the opposite, maybe he was too insistent on the idea that you did not need to come. Maybe he should’ve been more selfish, left it at he wanted to see you. Curse his big dumb heart.

Robin’s guess was that your definition of sometime was different than his; which in his head he could make sense of, his heart on the other hand couldn’t.

It was 5pm, their shift started at 11:45. That had to mean you weren’t coming “sometime”, now was sometime wasn’t it?

But Steve was just as afraid you would show up. That you would see him and his five a’clock shadow, him too tired and restless for his usual charm. He tried to make peace with himself that you weren’t coming, and that was okay, and his heart had no business aching quite as it was right now.

Still when the store’s bell rang he nearly broke his neck only to greet a hobbling elderly couple.

The second time the bell rang Steve was turned around, organizing the same few tapes for the twelfth time that day, he didn’t want to turn around. He didn’t want to turn around to see someone that wasn’t you.

Whoever it was they rang the desk bell, something Steve was unaware they had and he was forced to turn around. “Hi. Welcome to family video-“

You.

“Hi.” You. Smiling at him so beautifully. Steve thinks the room has grown ten times brighter, he wonders if the weather can explain it, maybe the clouds opened up for a moment to bathe you in a halo of light. Probably.

Steve wasn’t lying about the vest, if it’s possible you think it makes him even more handsome, it compliments his skin tone, his warm eyes.

All the air leaves him in one rushed breath, “You’re here.”

“I’m here.” You look down at your hands you’ve placed on the counter. “I’m sorry it took so long- I, I took uh, Mike’s bike here and I wasn’t exactly sure where here is.”

“No, no I’m just- I’m glad your here.” And you smile at him so brightly he feels his heart flutter in his chest.

Robin comes out of the back room,”Steve are you still pouting she’s not-“ Her eyes widen into saucers when she sees you. “You’re here.”

You nod still smiling,”I’m here.”

She sighs in relief, “Thank god I was afraid Steve was gonna start crying like a baby.” You laugh, and Steve rolls his eyes but the tips of his ears redden.

That’s his favorite sound he thinks, your laugh. He thinks it’s a shame he went most of his life without hearing it.

Robin comes around the counter to wrap you in a quick hug. “Let me know if you need anything, or just want a break from this idiot.” You nod again and watch her return to the back room.

“You see how mean she is to me?” Steve tries to keep a straight face but your smile is so contagious he can’t help himself. He shakes his head still grinning. “Here I want to show you something.”

You follow him as he leads you to one of the few isles. He’s warm, you feel it radiating off him in waves. You like standing next to him, it feels like the right place for you to be; a moth to his flame.

Neither of you are sure who’s fault it is the two of you end up standing so close together. And neither of you want to move away.

Your shoulder brushes his arm every time you breathe. He smells so good, something fresh and clean and woody and undeniably Steve.

“I thought you would appreciate this.” You look away from his face, hoping he didn’t notice your staring. He did, it’s half the reason he’s blushing so hard.

The Science fiction isle, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life, or now maybe the second. Blade Runner, The Star Wars trilogy, ET, The Terminator, Back to the Future ..Weird Science?

You pick up the tape, squinting to read the back synopsis.

Steve’s already looking at you when you look up at him, staring at you so intensely you feel warmer than you should inside the air conditioned store.

He cocks his head playfully offended,”Don’t tell me you haven’t seen it.”

You bite your lip and dark eyes follow the movement, “I haven’t seen it.”

It’s hard for him to pull his eyes away from your mouth. But he does, only to take the tape from your hands, big warm fingers brushing yours, and hold it next to his head.

“This, this is peak cinema. It’s a classic I don’t know how you haven’t seen it.”

You take another look at the cover, “Peak cinema huh.”

“You gotta trust me on this one.” Something flickers in his eyes. “Or you don’t. You could come over and watch it sometime if you want.”

“You must really want me around Harrington.” Steve likes the way you say his name, likes the way you’re grinning at him.

He leans over you, grinning back,”Maybe I just want to prove you wrong.”

Hot breath fans over your face, Steve can feel yours on his neck. Neither of you mean to go quiet, but neither of you can think to speak when you can hardly breathe.

A large crashing sound comes from behind the counter and the spell is broken. You take a step away from Steve and he wants to chase you, chase your warmth.

Robin stands there sheepishly and nobody is safe from the embarrassment.

Her voice is a few pitches too high,”Did I hear someone say movie night?”

part 3

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annab-nana · 1 year

Text

steddie blurbs

one where being deadnamed ruins your day but the boys are there to make you feel better (trans male!reader)

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moonstruckme · 3 months

Note

Heyy:)💞could I request something in which reader is a virgin and she’s afraid of her first time and like unsure if she feels ‘ready’ for it but also doesn’t want to come of as prude and the character you’re writing for just comforts her and tells her it’s fine🌞Any character you’re writing for would be fine!!:))) have a great dayyy🫶

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!

cw: smut mdni, oral (fem recieving), virgin reader

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 958 words

Steve’s hands are strong and warm on your waist, dipping lower. You roll your hips against his, and the sound that emerges from him is half-moan, half-laugh. He kisses you dizzy.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, tugging at your back pocket.

“Yeah,” you say without thinking.

You trust Steve. You haven’t been dating long, but you can tell he’s a good guy. He has a tendency to act overconfident and then backtrack immediately, which he says he’s working on. He’s genuine when it counts. Nice to you in all the ways that matter.

It’s not until your jeans hit the floor, where Steve’s shirt already lies, that you start to think about the implications of losing those bits of clothing. Whether or not you want them.

Steve grabs big handfuls of your ass, your flesh pudging between his fingers. He flips you over.

You giggle at the suddenness of it, and he drinks in the sound happily, lips curving over yours. You press kiss after kiss after kiss into his mouth, giddy and lost in him. After a while, he dips his head to move his attentions to your neck. Your breaths become gaspy, head tilting sideways to grant him better access as your eyes flutter closed.

You don’t even notice his hand moving until his fingers wiggle under the waistband of your panties.

You go still. Then try to relax again. Try to embrace it. His fingers slide over your folds, already slicked, while his thumb searches for your clit. He finds it, circling tantalizingly. You try to get lost again. It’s not hard. Soon you’re panting, tangling your hand in Steve’s hair as his mouth sponges over your pulse. He slips one thick finger into you, then two. Scissoring.

You try to make your voice sound casual as can be.

“What’re you doing?”

“Opening you up.” The words are mumbled against your skin, matter-of-fact. “M’gonna get you ready, don’t worry.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Whoa, hey,” Steve laughs. “Relax for me. You okay?”

You hesitate, and his fingers still inside you, thumb slowing on your clit.

“Hey.” He sits up, looking down at you. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m not sure if—if I want—”

“Oh, oh my god.” He slips his fingers out, wiping his hand on his sheets. His other hand twitches like it wants to touch your face, but he stops it before it gets there, setting it on the bed beside your head. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume…anything.”

“No, you’re good.” You try to laugh it off. “I’m being dumb. We can keep going.”

You tip your chin upward, kissing him. Steve doesn’t take the cue.

“I don’t want to do anything you don’t want,” he says, sitting up a bit more, putting more distance between you. You lie back on the mattress and fight the urge to cover your face with your hands. “If you don’t feel like it, that’s cool.”

You rub your lips together. They’re still tingling. “It’s not that I don’t feel like it,” you try to explain. “It’s just that I’m not sure…I don’t know if I’m ready.” You cringe. “It feels stupid to say it.”

Steve’s eyebrows twitch together. “Ready for…?”

You give him a deadpan look, and his expression clears.

“Oh. Whoa, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

You shrug. “I didn’t tell you.”

“Yeah…” He seems a bit shell-shocked. “Why did you say we could keep going? Do you want to?”

Your eyes fall thoughtlessly to where Steve’s hand rests just below your navel, your underwear a soppy mess behind it. “I don’t know,” you admit.

Steve nods like he understands, though he still looks confused. “Well, we shouldn’t do anything unless you know for sure.”

You look at him, guilt like concrete clogging your insides. “Really? You don’t think I should just get it over with?”

“What?” His face screws up. “No. Honey,” —He’s never called you that before. You melt a little— “you should want to have sex. If you’re not sure, you’re not sure. That’s fine.” You search in his tone for any hint of sarcasm or bitterness but come up empty. His hand drifts over to your hip, running the length of it. “You’re not asking because you think I want to, are you?”

It’s a silly, hypocritical stab of hurt, but it hurts nonetheless. “You don’t?”

“No, I do,” Steve says hastily. “Obviously I do. Just, that’s not a good enough reason for you to do it. And I don’t want you to get it over with, that’s for sure.”

He says the last bit wryly, glancing away from your face like he’s barely restraining an eye-roll, and you laugh. He looks back at you, grinning. Pleasantly surprised.

“I mean, it wouldn’t really reflect on you if I was getting it over with,” you say, but Steve scoffs.

“Fuck yeah it would. Sex with me should be magical, babe,” he tells you, kissing your chin firmly. “Sparks flying and butterflies and all that. The whole fireworks show.”

“Oh, you’re selling it now.”

“Not,” he does roll his eyes this time, kissing the corner of your mouth, “my intent. You tell me when you feel ready, and then I’ll start advertising, but until then don’t worry about it.” He catches your eye, and his are searching even as he raises his eyebrows playfully. “I can still give you the fireworks show other ways, if you want me to.”

You blink. “Really?”

Steve blinks harder. “Yeah! Jesus, your expectations of me are so low. Give me a little credit.” He presses kisses to your mouth, your chin, trailing down your throat, his blessed hand making its way back towards your heat. “Just sit tight, let me get you warmed up again.”

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queenie-ofthe-void · 25 days

Text

Stuck

~1.5k words || rating: teen || cws: dissociation; unlabeled neurodivergencies and mental illnesses

He’s never quite sure how it happens, seeming to always sneak up on him. One minute he’s up and moving around, usually cleaning, organizing, or just meandering around the house. The next, he’s lying on the floor in the middle of the living room. He tries to move but can’t. Not because he’s physically restrained, like when the rope from the Russians cut into his wrists or how the vines constricted his neck.

No, Steve’s just lying here on the floor, trapped in his own mind. His eyes are raw, stinging with dryness. Painful tingles pop throughout his right arm from where his head rests heavy on his bicep. His hip and shoulder ache. He can’t move or talk or blink. Can barely think. He’s not in his body.

He’s lost. Stuck.

Getting stuck means losing time, chunks of days lost to a void. It means missing meals and unanswered phone calls. Growing up, it felt like an escape. A safe way to pass the time between eating and sleeping. He’d come back to himself, sometimes hours later, sore and hungry, mustering up energy he didn’t have. Once, his parents discovered him frozen on the ground. Mom’s yelling and Dad’s foot shoving his side brought him jolting back into his body. Like waking from a nightmare, rising from the dead chased by panic.

It happens less now, but still catches up to him when he’s exhausted. He thinks today it was the kids– they were particularly obnoxious. Yelling excitedly about Eddie’s new campaign ideas, trucking in snow from outside after building a demo-snowman. Cooking for them, cleaning after them, getting them home safe.

Yeah, he gets how he maybe overdid it a bit.

But with Eddie here, it’s easier. His sweetheart always knows how to help, usually checking up on him after stressful days. Hopefully he comes to check on him soon.

Because Steve can’t move. Or talk. Or even blink.

The sun is starting to set.

~~~

The Party were extra chaotic today, pushing him to the fringes of patience. He’s thrilled they’re excited about his newest campaign ideas, but god, did they have to be so unbearably loud about it? Dustin’s screeches are still rattling between his ears. Not to mention the soreness he feels from helping the kids build a snowman demo-thing and the ensuing snowball fight.

The idea of an occult campaign has been percolating in Eddie’s brain for weeks, and after the day he’s had, he’s lost to the research. Perched on a chair upstairs in their bedroom, books are scattered across the desk and onto their bed next to him. Typically, creative deep-dives restore his energy after a long day. But when he’s well and truly exhausted, he’ll lose hours at a time to the work. Getting stuck, according to Steve. And yeah, Eddie can see how that fits.

Growing up, Eddie would lose hours throwing himself into his latest and greatest project, whether it be drawing, playing guitar, writing campaigns, reading or even the time he tried juggling. Entranced by his newest obsession, his surroundings would fade into the background. He’d forget to do his homework, to eat or drink. Hell, sometimes he’d forget to pee. Wayne’d drop a gentle hand to his shoulder– pulling him back to reality– and he’d take off like a shot to the bathroom. Every sensation hitting all at once: bladder about to burst, stomach rumbling, dry mouth, headache, body stiff and achy.

As he gets older, it’s still a frequent occurrence. So Robin had given him the idea of setting alarms, saying it helps her remember to take breaks while studying. And he’s thankful, because it works like a charm when he actually remembers. But when he forgets, his Stevie takes care of him.

He’ll find Eddie crouched awkwardly by the desk, eyes manic, only seeing what’s in front of him. Eddie will eat or drink anything Steve gives him, barely tasting whatever it is, just as long as he can see it. And Steve lets him be for at least a few hours so he can burn energy into whatever project he's lost himself in. All Steve cares is that he’s fed and hydrated. Usually, Eddie comes to slowly, with Steve’s fingers gently carding through his hair, or soft strokes up and down his spine.

Now Eddie breaks his own musings, eyes strained, hungry, and needing to stretch. He can’t help but wonder why his sweetheart hasn’t checked on him.

Moonlight is shining through the window.

~~~

It’s eerily quiet as Eddie makes his way down the stairs. He half expects to find Steve stress-baking, but the kitchen is dark.

So he checks the garage– the car is still here. And the backyard– he never sits by the pool alone. Then the front porch– maybe he went out for a smoke.

Guilt eats at Eddie as he finds his beautiful boy on the living room floor, curled into himself.

Stuck.

He hates finding Steve like this– stuck and lost like Eddie’s engrossed fantasies. Yet so, so different.

The first time Eddie found him, unresponsive and immovable, he spiraled into a panic so strong Steve had broken free of his own melancholy, finding Eddie hyperventilating and sobbing in the midst of a flashback. Too much like Chrissy. Like Patrick and Nancy.

They'd talked about it. And Eddie had appreciated afterwards how Steve struggled to describe what being stuck feels like, why it happens, what to do about it. It'd helped.

So on grey days, long nights, the holidays, or when the kids are extra rowdy, Eddie looks for the signs. He's been good about getting Steve to slow down before it's too late.

But on rare occasions, there will be a day like today. When it’s too much for both of them.

Eddie doesn't know how long his baby’s been lying here. Doesn't know when he ate or drank or even blinked. Because he’d holed himself up, desperate for time alone to just think. To be with himself after spending all day surrounded by people. But he forgot to set an alarm, assuming Steve would be there.

He focuses on his sweetheart, slowly kneeling down next to him so as not to startle him. Remembers all of the tips and tricks Steve needs.

"Hey honey," Eddie whispers, close enough to be present but not overwhelming. "Don't worry baby we'll get you unstuck I promise. I'm going to reach out and grab your hand now ok?"

He continues to whisper gentle praises and reassurances as he holds Steve's hand. It's limp for a time, and Eddie is hungry, but he doesn't stop. Time is lost to them both again, until he feels a slight squeeze on his fingers. Steve finally blinks, slow and hard.

"Hey big boy, love to see those pretty, long eyelashes.” He smiles down at his baby, honeyed hazel eyes slowly refocusing. “Alright, once for no and two for yes: do you want me to help you onto the couch?"

A full minute passes before Eddie feels two gentle squeezes to his fingers.

"That's great sweetheart. I'm gonna tilt you to sit up and we'll get you settled. Then I'm going to ask if you want anything. Ready?" Two squeezes.

They finally get to the couch, and Eddie can already feel a strong sense of relief at just seeing his baby move off the floor. He hears Steve's back pop as they stand, decides he'll give him a massage later.

It goes on. And on and on. Eddie follows the process of squeezes until Steve is unstuck and back in his body.

"Water?" Two squeezes.

"Food?" One squeeze.

"Blanket?" Two squeezes.

Eddie's patience always pays off. He's got Steve set up on the couch, hydrated and relaxed, with his favorite movie playing softly. He’s managed to grab a bowl of cereal for himself. They're cuddled and warm with Steve’s head in his lap. Eddie glides his fingers up and down the sore side of Steve’s body, gently squeezing as he goes.

~~~

Steve comes back to himself surrounded by love.

His eyes sting and his mouth is dry. He doesn't know what time it is, but notices the sun has long set, moonlight shining through the curtains. The bones in his neck crack and his joints pop as he stretches.

But he's warm under the blankets, tucked into his boyfriend's chest as they watch the teddy bear Star Wars. Eddie's loosely twirling the hairs at the nape of his neck, lightly tugging and sending tingles down his spine. There's a glass of water and crackers on the table in front of him.

Getting stuck inside his head terrifies him, something he dreads as much as the night terrors.

But with Eddie, it's easier, happens less often. And when it does, he always wakes up to love.

This was a pure self-indulgence fic. An exact recreation of my relationship with my partner. It fits my headcanon for the boys perfectly (though I'm obviously biased haha)

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve harrington whump #hurt/comfort #steve harrington does not feel his feelings it's practically canon #steve harrington is my favorite self insert and i will continue to do so until i get so sick of writing myself i go back to canon #rinse and repeat #eddie munson #eddie munson is the personification of adhd #have you seen that man's bedroom? it's definitely canon #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things ficlet #QueenieWritesStories

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berryfeilds · 2 months

Text

𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.

Summary- Steve now has the floor to fix your desperate attempt.

part two because steve is an idiot.

Warnings- reader is described with female attributes, food is mentioned (not in a triggering way), cuss words, a little angst?, VERY BAD WRITING PLEASE,

W/C- 5.4k

A/N: the long-awaited part 2 LMFAOO😭 literally quit and got lazy for the ending, and i couldn't find pics that match this fics aesthetic so. ALSO this is such a mess like be careful reading, you're gonna get confused. and i guess this could also be read as a stand-alone i think but yeah enjoy this is a literary piece of shit.

✦ Regard the links below about S5 of ST.

Usually when the world turns to hell, you –and Hop– are the voices of reason. Leading the group to safety, planning every move and hit. Following behind you was never a question of hesitation. Trusting your judgment was never an unpopular opinion –hell even Hopper took your word when he didn’t trust himself enough to lead; and that was saying a lot. Hopper is one hell of a stubborn brick. But that goes to say you were too. And if the odds don’t yield in your favor? If the tides don’t crash onto your shore?

The sky would fall, Steve thinks.

You always knew what you were doing. It’s fascinating. Even if you were in the wrong, things always go your way. Following behind you never came with a side of uncertainty. He never had to think twice when seeing your determined face.

But this time, it was the visible exhaustion evident on your face that faltered him. Steve being scared to follow you had him reeling in the fact that maybe, this argument wasn’t just a fluke.

It’s been a few weeks since that night at the pool. You’ve been radio silent and unresponsive to all the calls and ‘CODE REDs’ that Steve's been sending you. As if you've gone off grid with Murray. The second you walked out Steve sprang to his feet and ran after you to fix things, hopefully to try and hash things out and understand what it was that was so wrong. But he stopped; Refrained. His hand lingered on the door knob contemplating whether following you was a good idea or not.

It was always a good idea. Why is it so different now? Why is everything so different nowadays?

Perhaps it's because, deep down, he was scared of the idea that you would be angry with him for loving him. It terrified him greatly. Not because the idea of being with you was dreadful –but because he was aware that his query was really wishful thinking. The picture of you ever returning his longing was too expensive, one he could never afford or win. Steve assured himself deep in his bones that your love is the one thing he could never be deserving of. But what is he to do now?

It’s been so frustrating, especially because he’d usually go to you in these sorts of cases. You always knew everything about everyone. He’d always tease you about being a little snitch, saying you were the one to spread rumors in school. You always argued back saying you weren’t a gossip; ‘Never the rat, always the dog’ you’d say. Loyal and reliable. That’s who you were.

But obviously you’re not very reliable right now. So Steve got ready and made his way to the second most reliable person he knows.

Dustin.

“You’re fucked.”

“Alright, Sherlock, thanks for the wisdom.” Steve exhales sarcastically before leaning back into his chair.

“No seriously Steve, I've seen her blank people for the stupidest things. She’s not gonna talk to you for at least a month by the sound of it.” Dustine purses his lips and shrugs.

Steve groans and closes his eyes. He knew that. He knew you were the most stubborn person he’s had the luxury of befriending. Always ignoring the people who would probably waste your time, laughing at all the guys who have tried –and failed– at asking you out. I mean for fucks sake he’s been one of the people to annoy you during school with Tommy and Carol. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a fond memory.

“I know man, I just…” He opens his eyes and looks down at the table.

Dustin furrows his brows when he sees how distraught Steve looks right now. He knew the both of you were close. If he and Steve weren’t together he’d probably find him with you. You always came by the store, picked him and Steve up and dropped them off, helped Steve with all his girl problems when Robin and him were fed up. It seemed like you could never get enough of each other. You guys couldn’t be more different though; the two of you, opposite sides of the same coin, but attached by a string.

But even then, he wasn’t as worried as Steve is right now when Lucas ignored him when he stole his limited edition copy of the Swamp Thing. And he and Lucas have years of friendship on the two of you.

“It’s just, I’ve never seen her so tired. Like I've inconvenienced her with all my shit,” Steve exhales deeply as he leans his elbows on the table, rubbing his hands down his face. “Fuck, I don’t blame her if she quits talking to me for good.”

Dustin looks at his friend in sympathy, “Don’t say that dude, you just gotta charm her, it’s not the end of the world-”

“Dustin she’s not like that, man! She’s not one to be ‘charmed’, definitely not one to forgive an asshole that's been nothing but a shit friend.” The hands on his face fall down on the wood as he crossed them.

“I fucked up. Real bad.” He quaked.

He shakes his head, as if trying to wake himself up from a bad dream. Steve knows he’s being dramatic but he can’t help it. He’s never felt so deeply about a person before. You matter to him, more than most. You’re intimidating and beautiful and so far out of his sad reach.

It takes Dustin no less than 8 Mississippi’s to understand what’s really happening. He’s had an idea in the past and teased Steve about it. The whole group thought something was going on between the two of you but they never questioned it; last time they did they got an earful from you. But Dustin remembers the way Steve’s face fell at your loud and definite “No way!”

He scrutinizes Steve for a second longer before carefully choosing his words longer. “Steve…Are you really still in love with Nancy?”

Steve raises his eyes and peers at his friend. Was he still in love with his ex-girlfriend? He inhales deeply. Steve thinks about the time spent between the two of you. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t laugh at your quick quips or the way you tease Mike. Not an hour passes by that he doesn’t think about where you are or what you’re doing. Not a minute or second that he doesn’t think about holding your hand and pulling you close.

But he hates that, he hates the feeling of vulnerability. It's what got him dumped by Nancy so why cherish the feeling that broke him. And it isn’t like you were very mushy about your feelings either, preferring to keep them safe and close to you.

But by God did he feel safe with you. You were never one to meddle about with feelings, always preferring to speak your mind no matter how controversial. You were honest –and vulgar– and so outspoken, always saying what others were too scared to. He wasn’t short of your honesty either –nor your kindness. He calls –you’ll be there in 10. He needs advice? You’re writing down a thesis paper about his problems. His parents are bothering him?

Your door is open and unlocked, baking cookies with his favorite movie rented out, waiting to be played.

Steve opens your unlocked door slowly as he walks through the small foyer. Your house is small but warmly lit, giving it a feel he’s never felt anywhere before; Home. That’s the feeling. He calls out your name as he takes his shoes off. There’s a harmonic sound playing throughout the house; To Cut A Long Story Short by Spandau Ballet. This was the mixtape he gifted you. A smile pinches at his face at the revelation.

“In the kitchen!” He hears you call from the corner. Steve’s shoulders physically relax at the honeyed voice.

He walks in routine to where you reside in the kitchen, waiting on popcorn and rolling cookies onto a tray. “Hey, trouble.”

You turn your head at the greeting, a small smile already dancing on your lips. “Stevie.” You nod your head in acknowledgement at the boy.

“What’re you doing?”

Your head turns back to the concoction of dough in front of you. “Making cookies; You’re favorite, right?”

Steve’s eyes widen slightly at your answer. You’re baking? For him? Because he was upset about his parents? Has he had anyone do something so kind? That’s a stupid question, especially as your lovely character is right in front of him. His heart warms and picks up in rate at the same time. It seems to do that a lot whenever he’s around you.

“Yeah..” He pauses before releasing a chuckle. “You know, you’re not as tough as you look right?”

You scoff, keeping your eyes trained at the ball rolling in between your palms. “Shut it or it’ll be your head I shove into the oven.”

He laughs. After the return of his parents his face has been in a permanent scowl. But the second he’s in your area –around you– you’ve managed to flip his mood in an instance.

“Yes ma’am,” He walks to stand beside you, his back to the counter and his arms propped up behind him. “Need help?”

The tray is half full with delicious smelling chocolate rounds. “No, it’s okay. You just sit there and look pretty.” You smirk in his direction.

“Hah, funny.” He jokes flatly.

The sound of the microwave timer rings just as you roll the last ball. “Would you get that?” You wipe your oily hands with a red kitchen rag. Steve gets up to open up the microwave. He’s hit with a wave of the salty smell of popcorn. He takes the hot bag out carefully and sets it down on the counter. His head looks around to find an empty bowl to pour the kernels into.

After setting the tray full of soon-to-be cookies in the oven, you wish to start cleaning up. However your eyes find Steve bent down, assuming to find a bowl. Before you can go help him, he’s already on his way to stand up –before bumping his head on the edge of the counter.

“Shit!”

You snort before letting out a heavily mocking laugh. Steve looks at your standing form while he rubs the back of his head. “Anyone told you, you’re a sadist? Shit man.”

You giggle slightly before replying, “Once or twice, lost count.” You walk over to help him up, offering your hand out. “You hit it bad?”

He takes your outstretched aid and climbs up. “Nah, winded me though.” His hand comes back up to rub at the spot.

“Let me check.”

Steve watches as you step behind him. You run your fingers over the throbbing spot and massage his scalp. He completely misses the fact that you're touching his hair; No one’s allowed to touch his hair. Thank God you were behind him or you would’ve seen his face turning an embarrassing tomato red. The feeling of you behind him, chest pressed against his back while your soft, nimble fingers soothe the ache on his head has him feeling the butterflies in his stomach flaring up and tingling. His palms start to sweat from the nerves of your figure so close to him and wipes them on his jeans. Get a grip man!

“Still hurt?” Your voice speaks up behind him.

It takes a second for him to register that you’re asking him a question. “U-uh no- no, I’m okay.” He stutters out.

You spill a knowing smile. “Good.” You make your way to his line of sight again. “If you needed a bowl, you could’ve just asked.” You tease with a smirk and a quirk of your brows.

He clears his throat nervously as he watches you bend down to the left of where he was and grab a yellow bowl. “Here.” You hand it over to him. He raises his arm to take your outstretched arm. His fingers brush over yours delicately; it was electrifying.

Your eyes flit over to his glued on you. The corners of his mouth turn up gently. “Thanks.”

In that short moment the two of you shared, your breath was stolen. Sometimes you forget how truly handsome your friend is. And everytime you’re reminded, your heart stops. But not in an agonizing way; more like it realizes the force of feelings it’s up against. A tide so big you can’t swim your way up.

Your bodies stay still in front of each other, just staring at one another. A wave of realization washes over Steve quickly. Just for a quick second no longer –maybe because he had an idea of what exactly are the flames that envelope his body every time he’s near you, he’s just never entertained the idea. Liking you –scratch that– loving you? He’s just about throwin himself to a suicide mission. Just as the tide goes out, the insecurity settles in.

But right now? With you looking at him with your glistening, starry eyes? As you bake his favorite dessert and take his mind off his shitty parents? He tries to amuse his scorching feelings.

Of course Steve wasn’t in love with Nancy. God why would he be when you were right there?

He chuckles humorously, “No.” His eyes zone in on a scratch of paint on the wood. “But, there’s no way I'll hurt someone like her,” He whispers as if the mere act would stop his heart, “Someone as angelic as she is, would never soil her hands with someone like me.” He flies through the sentence, trying hard to not let the truth dig its claws further in.

Dustin looks at his friend in sympathy. He’s unsure of what to do or say to lift up Steve’s spirits. But Steve was wrong. Stupid wrong. Dustin’s seen the way you look at Steve; Like he strung up the moon and hung every star individually. He’s seen the way you unconsciously move toward Steve when a situation grows uncomfortable. Or the way you always seem to know what Steve was feeling or thinking just with a glance. It made the group sick, really. Well, before they started dating and crushing. But what you and Steve have? It rivals the most ancient love stories; Songs that didn’t make sense before all of a sudden click with just a glance at the two of you; Romance novels written about the two of you and movies fail to show what it is truly that makes love so magical.

“Steve,” Dustin stops and looks down gloomily; Adding to the dramatic pause, “I’ve never met someone more brainless and thick-headed than you.” Steve’s head shoots up, his face offended and ready to defend himself. “What?-”

“I mean seriously, did you inhale some hair spray this morning? You’re more stupid than usual –and that’s saying a lot.”

Steve’s brows continue to furrow in offense as the insults carry out. “Okay ditz, what’re you on about?-”

“She loves you, you idiot!”

Silence over takes the room like a bad plague. A ringing sound fills his ears as his widen eyes take in his friend. Before he lets out a laugh. Dustin’s determined face controls into one of confusion. “W-what are you laughing at?” Steve continues his heaved breaths. “Steve!”

“I’m sorry-” He wheezes. “I’m sorry but, aren't you supposed to be a genius?” He inhales deeply and regains himself. It was Dustin’s turn to be offended.

“I’m freaking serious man! Anyone with eyes can see how much she loves you!”

Steve rolls his eyes indecorously. “Cupid, listen-”

“No you listen!”

There's a moment of staggered silence before Dustin continues. “Holy shit do you ever shut up? Better yet– Do you ever stop and think twice before you speak? The whole reason you’re in this mess is because you’re a coward –a chicken; You talk all this big talk about getting all the ladies and scoring dates but, have you ever thought that the reason you’re going on these –stupid dates– is to distract yourself?” Dustin doesn’t give him half a second to reply- “No you didn’t, just like you don’t think before talking to the love of your life.” Dustin’s blazing because at this point he’s just spilling over words. He needs to end it, shove the knife a little deeper for the act to end.

“She’s hurt Steve. You hurt her.” Steve stiffens at the confession. “So are you going to do something about it, or are you going to sit her brooding like a James Dean wannabe?”

Steve bites his bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood as he contemplates his choices. He’s spent the better half of your friendship in agonizing longing, hoping –looking– for a sign. Anything that tells him or shows him that you might return the painful ache in his chest. Oh how he burned for you; ablaze with every touch and stare. But just as the oceans glisten, you somehow always smother the fire. He wonders what it means: the fact that you never let him destroy himself. It was different with everyone else. With Nancy he was practically left in smithereens; everyone else never bothered to tend to the fire. But you? You could always tell when he was about to boil over. Just on the verge of a major spill. You were healthy, and observant. Always managing his outbursts with careful and slow movements. Throwing water just as his temper tipped over the edge.

He needs to be your water. He needs to be there for you, just like you’ve always done. Like you always do.

Steve slams his hands on the table in tenacity. The action startled Dustin as he looked at a new man in front of him. “I’m gonna do something about it-”

Dustin stands up with the same amount of fervor and nods his head proudly. “Yeah, yeah!”

“I’m gonna fix this!” Steve pumps his hands excitedly by his side. Dustin copies Steve and slams his hands on the table. “Hell yeah, you are!” Dustin drums the table hysterically as if possessed with the spirit of John Bonham.

Steve whoops and yells running around the dining room. Dustin –just as excited– slaps his back whenever he passes. “I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna fix this– I’m going to tell her!”

Dustin’s just about ready to start calling everyone he knows to celebrate. Shit he feels like his mom. Steve’s already by the door slipping on his shoes. “Go get your girl Steve!” He grins, his dimple showing. Steve turns around just as he’s about out the door, and sends a confident, full toothed smile back.

••••••

You were lounging around on your couch eating a bowl of cereal when you heard the sound of a knock on your door. You place the bowl down and make your way to the wooden slab. It’s been a few days since the constant calls and house visits from Steve stopped so you were hopeful that he didn’t pick up his new favorite hobby again. The weeks that followed the argument were quiet. You didn’t realize how much of your time was spent with Steve and the group. You assumed Steve told the rest of them about your vow to silence when Nancy and Robin showed up with bags of snacks and a rented out movie, talking about a ‘girls day’. You were hesitant at first. Yes they were your friends –but they were also Steves. Nancy, ever the empath noticed your predicament and reassured you they were on your side. You let them in reluctantly; quickly changing to gratefulness when you realized how much fun you were having. It quickly became a routine between the three of you. The two of them however kept this a secret for your sake and it added to the appreciation. You were all getting so close and it was nice. All your time being spent with Steve had you missing out on getting to really know who they were. Nancy even confided in you about her problems with Jonathan; the distance and indifference. You understood her and even tried helping her, it was lovely. And Robin was just a breath of fresh air, her jokes and childish attitude gives you space to not be so tough all the time. You even find yourself doubled over laughing at her ridiculous quips during your weekly watches. It was fun, having friends to take your mind off things.

You open your door assuming to see either girl but you’re met with a bent down flop of hair breathing heavily.

“Steve?” You questioned in slight worry. “You okay?”

Your name gets called out in a deep wheeze. He stands up right as he takes in a couple of deep breaths.

“Listen– I know that you’re mad –believe me I’ve had my fair share of people calling me a jackass– but I want to make it right.” He gazes at you desperately. “Please.”

You rip your eyes away from his face as you think about your choices. It’s been a long time since the argument, and to be completely honest you were kind of over it. Just as Nancy confined in you; You fessed up and revealed the true nature of your and Steve's fight. To say the least Nancy wasn't impressed, nor was she amused. You thought she was going to be mad –or even excited– but you were met with a lecture: “If you believe a word out of Steve's mouth; my judgment of you has got to change.” She joked. “We even have bets going on to see how long the two of you would last.”

You thought she was absurd, denying everything she said –even though it made sense– you would never tell her that though. But her words ring around in your head like little cartoon birds. ‘Give it a shot. Be vulnerable.’ She coaxed. If shit goes wrong you are so taking that Rumors CD.

You prodded your cheek with your tongue before replying. “Get in.”

He lets out a grateful huff of air, one he was holding in. “Thank you.” You widen up the open door and let the boy in. He looks odd with hands fiddling together, like a scolded child standing in your walkway. He hazily remembers the night he walked into your house for the impromptu movie night. He ignores the voice in his head that nags: ‘This might not work’.

“You want something to drink?” You speak monotonously.

He snaps out of his reverie. Now's not the time to freeze.

“Uh- yeah- yes please, water.” He follows you to the kitchen

The tension is palpable, and it’s making Steve awfully nervous. Your back is facing towards him as you open the faucet and let it run before placing a glass cup underneath the stream. The memory comes back again, fast. He tries to find the comfort he once felt the last time he stepped in your house. Somehow it never left.

You leave the sink with a cold cup of water in your hand. He takes it from your wet hands softly, taking extra precaution not to graze your fingers. Steve quietly mumbles your name as you wipe your damp hands on the same red rag. You rip your eyes away from the distraction and set them on Steve.

“I..How are you?” He gulps.

You take a deep breath before replying. “Fine. You?”

“Good, good.” He nods his head as he rubs his thumb across his bottom lip and chin. A habit he does when he’s nervous.

You wrap your arms around your body protectively in hopes of perhaps shielding you away from the inevitable conversation. “Cut to the chase Harrington.” You grunted exasperatedly.

“I know I know! I just...Need to find the right words. I don’t wanna mess this up.” He whispered the last part but still audible enough for you to hear him. You always do.

“Mess what up? It was just a silly argument-” You furrow your brows in confusion.

“No it wasn’t! Nothing about it was silly –nothing about us is silly!” He exclaimed.

Your eyebrows fly to the top of your forehead. “Wha-”

He says your name in the same manner, “I’ve been an idiot. A complete and utter douchebag –but you know that so what's new.” He chuckles in a strangled tone, voice wobbly while he rubs his palms. You stood quiet as he took the microphone.

“The night at the pool wasn’t a mistake. It was everything I needed to open my eyes, to see how much of an idiot I’ve been. You…” Steve takes a second to gather his thoughts. To gather you into words. “Are everything. All the praying and wishing on stars to find someone who understood me. Who I can sit in silence with and it not feel excruciatingly uncomfortable. You’ve given me a home within a person.”

He’s staring into your eyes now with a feeling you can’t quite understand. But he strides gingerly towards your frame and unravels your arms, and holds your warm hands. You’re still observing him with very large eyes.

He’s being vulnerable?

He says your name is such confidence, totally different to the little boy who was just standing in your walkway all fidgety. “I cannot imagine a life with you not being there to yell at all the stupid people, especially the ones who miraculously passed their driving test.” This steals a little giggle from your shocked state. Steve continues. “There’s so much more to this but,” He pauses and closes his eyes while he inhales deeply. “I am not in love with Nancy.” He says. "And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for the things I said. You were trying to help me –like always– and I was just being a dick. I’m so sorry.”

Hope fills your being and it’s suffocating, you question if you even like it. He’s speaking with such softness it equals the spring wind and with incredible certainty it rivals the most stubborn aristocrats.

“Huh, isn’t that something.” You choke up. Steve questions if he heard you. He did. He always does when it comes to you.

“Yeah it is.” he replies with a small smile and a pull with his interlocked hands, bringing you closer.

“You’ve been my calm in this shit storm and I’ve been an idiot to not realize that the only person I ever needed,” He stops for what you believe is for dramatic effect, “Was you. It's always been you. So in some way I was hoping to maybe be the calm in your life.”

Steve releases a shy grin and squeezes your hands in his lengthy ones before finishing his profession. He says your name one last time before- “I am an idiot. And that’s been proven to be true more times than we can count on our fingers. But I think the time that solidified it was when I tried convincing myself that I didn’t love you.”

You think your eyes are about to bulge out their sockets at the confession. He…loved you?

“Me?”

He gives you a knowing look. “I’m sorry, do you have a secret twin I don’t know about? Is this some shitty sequel to The Parent Trap?”

“Steve.”

“Sorry sorry.”

It’s taking a lot from you to swallow this huge pill. You’ve spent this whole time convincing yourself that he didn’t love you. That he couldn’t ever fathom thinking about you in a romantic sense. Now here he is, standing in front of you with his cheeky smile and bright eyes, telling you he loves you. You start to blink excessively, feeling the tsunami of tears advancing fast. God you hate crying, but maybe you’ll allow it this time. If Steve was an idiot, you better expect a simpleton of the year award in the mail soon. You feel the blobs of tears in front of your orbs as they start to fall down one by one.

This obviously panics Steve, you would rather stick forks in your eyes than cry.

“Oh my god, shit, was it something I said? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to throw all of this at your face.” Steve is running around your kitchen to find tissues or a towel before he promptly kicks the table and drops the glass of water. “Shit! Shit shit shit!”

Tears forgotten when you start laughing jovially at the scene. You wipe your cheeks with knuckles as you breathe sharply.

“Steve.” You call out to his erratic form.

“I’m so sorry angel, this is a mess, I’ll fix it and then leave-”

“Steve.”

“I will buy you a whole new cup –scratch that– I’ll buy you whole brand new kitchen set-”

“Steve!”

He stops the run around the kitchen and stares at you and sees the teary smile you’re beautifully wearing. He gulps, “Yes?” He replies, still out of breath.

“I love you too.” You drag a finger furiously under your eye trying to stop the water works.

“Oh.” He croaks

“Yeah.”

“That’s, uh, that’s good, amazing actually, uh really great –hey stop doing that to your face.” He approaches you and draws your criminal hands away from your face in a caring manner. He replaces your angry fingers with his calloused ones, collecting your happy tears. You let him take care of you, caressing along the apples of your cheeks in content.

Steve’s buzzing with overwhelming love for you. He ponders how he lasted so long lying to himself. He wonders how long he’s spent hurting you, trying to forget the absolute force of beauty and grace you are. You were there from the start, in front of him with all your anger and unconditional kindness –that he didn’t deserve– but you still chose to stay. And fuck if he messes this second chance? He can’t think of a way to thank the considerate hand that’s giving him this fortune.

He holds your glowing face in his nurturing hands and gazes into your starry eyes. “Does this mean you forgive me?”

You laugh delightfully and Steve thinks it’s the most wonderful music to his ears. “No. You’re lucky I even let you into my house.”

“Mhmm I am very lucky.” He teased cockily.

“You know you have a lot to make up for?” You say say woefully.

“All that wasted time and you think I haven’t started planning yet? Trouble, c’mon.” He tilts his head.

“Well, you are a little scatter-brained so.” You purse your lips.

“Hey!”

You shrug mockingly as his hands stay glued to your face. “It’s what you get for hurting me.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be making it up to you until death grabs me by the throat.”

Steve can’t believe his eyes right now, you, standing in front of him, willing to forgive him. He’s sure he can die happy right now.

“Hey, I’m gonna try and do something, and you can stop me at any time –hit me, or slap me– I won’t even squeak.” His fingers travel to hold your jaw, thumbs close to your bottom lip.

You nod inquisitively. “Alright, alright, we’ll crucify you if need be.”

His face is dull at your poor joke.

Steve lingers for a moment before he leisurely leans in close to your awaiting lips. First warning comes when the both of you are a breath away. “Everything okay?” He whispers.

“Mhm.”

The next comes when the tips of your noses are brushing against each other; a shy eskimo kiss. “Still okay?” In a timid manner you close your eyes. Steve admires how your lashes kiss your cheeks.

Your consent comes in the guise of an easy nod.

Then comes the time of the hour. Your lips were smooth and sweet, nothing like he could ever imagine in his wildest dreams. The kiss has both of your heart beats jumping around like monkeys. You feel like you’re gonna pass out; he’s so warm and his skin is stinging with shots of happiness. There were few times in your life you ever felt light headed, but this? This takes the cake. It feels like blowing out your birthday candles, and the after smell of the wax. It feels like summer, dipping your overheated head into the cold ocean, feeling your scalp chill. It feels like wiping soft buttercream off your lips and submerging your frosted finger into your mouth, tasting the sweet cream. It feels like everything

The both of you pull away for much needed oxygen –but in both of your opinions you could have gone without it– and just stare at each other. “You okay?” He wipes the wet off your lips.

“Fine.” You nod dumbly.

Steve gives you a small smile, fondness oozing out of his expressions. “Good.”

Boycott S5 of Stranger Things → Cast Zionism + Other reasons and productions

Learn about Palestine → Resources + Ways to help + Other 1 + Other 2

#❆ i smell snow #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington angst #steve harrington self insert #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #Steve stranger things #steve stranger things fic

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munsonsmrhusband · 1 year

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Stranger Things Twitter Links

male x male content, women dni please <3

includes: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, (Hint of Tommy Hagan) and Billy Hargrove

Eddie Munson

using your throat after a long day

eddies all revved up after a good game

forgetting your money and giving your dealer an alternative payment

monster cock! eddie

Steve Harrington

steve letting off some steam

getting used by the keg boys ft steve/billy

putting the guest bedrooms to use

king steve keeping you in your place

Billy Hargrove

showing off your mouth skills at a party

getting used by the keg boys ft billy/steve

soft sex while he’s in a good mood

power bottom billy

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vilentia · 1 year

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Learning to Love Again

Steve Harrington x reader

Inspired by this post @forevermoreharrington

Steve had always been the life of the party. With his charming smile and quick wit, he could make anyone feel at ease. But behind that confident exterior, he was hiding a deep insecurity that he had never quite been able to shake.

Steve had always been a romantic at heart. He loved the idea of being in a relationship, of sharing his life with someone special. But every time he tried to get close to someone, it always seemed to backfire.

In his early relationships, Steve would try to be affectionate and attentive, showering his partner with compliments and gifts. But he quickly learned that not everyone appreciated his brand of romance. Some of his partners would pull away, telling him that he was being too intense or that he needed to give them space.

This rejection hurt Steve deeply. He couldn't understand why his efforts to show his love were being met with such resistance. As a result, he began to hold back, to keep his feelings to himself for fear of scaring his partner away.

But even that didn't work. His partners would accuse him of being distant, of not being emotionally available. Steve couldn't win. It seemed like no matter what he did, he always managed to push his partners away.

But then he met you.

From the moment you first smiled at him, Steve felt something shift inside of him. It was a small gesture, just a quick flash of teeth, but for Steve, it was like a bolt of lightning had struck him. He couldn't explain why, but he felt an instant connection to you. Maybe it was the way your eyes crinkled at the corners, or the way your hair fell in soft waves around your face. Whatever it was, Steve was hooked. It was as if all of his insecurities melted away in your presence. You were so warm and open, so eager to be close to him, that he couldn't help but be drawn to you.

At first, it was scary for Steve. In the early days of your relationship, Steve was almost overwhelmed by the sheer amount of affection you showed him. It was like a dam had burst, and suddenly he was being showered with love and attention in a way that he had never experienced before.

At first, he was a little unsure of how to respond. He would feel himself tense up when you reached for his hand or leaned in for a kiss. He wasn't used to this level of physical intimacy, and it took him some time to get comfortable with it.

But you were patient with him. You could tell that he was struggling, and you didn't want to push him too hard too fast. So you started small, with gentle touches and soft kisses. You let Steve set the pace, always waiting for him to take the lead. But as time went on, he began to relax into your touch, to let himself be vulnerable with you in a way that he never had before. He found himself craving your touch, yearning for the warmth of your body next to his. He loved the way you would run your fingers through his hair, tracing lazy patterns on his scalp. It was like all of the walls he had built up around himself were starting to crumble.

And then there were the kisses. Steve had never been much of a public display of affection kind of guy, but with you, he couldn't resist. He loved the way you would pull him in for a kiss in the middle of the street, not caring who saw you. It was like you were telling the world that he was yours, and he loved the possessiveness of it.

You would stay up late talking, laughing at each other's jokes and sharing stories about your lives. You would hold hands as you walked down the street, fingers intertwined in a way that felt like you were meant to be together.

And whenever Steve would start to feel that old familiar pang of insecurity, you were always there to reassure him. You would tell him how much you adored him, how much you loved being close to him, how you could never imagine being with anyone else.

It was one of those nights, lying in bed together, that you finally said the words that Steve had been waiting to hear.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice soft and sweet.

Steve's heart skipped a beat. He had wanted to say those words to you for so long, but he had been too afraid of scaring you away. Now, as he looked into your eyes, he knew that he had nothing to fear.

"I love you too," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I've loved you since the moment I met you, but I was too scared to say it. I didn't want to mess things up."

You reached out to stroke his hair, your fingers trailing softly over his scalp.

"You could never mess things up with me," you said, your voice filled with sincerity. "I'm here for you, always."

And as Steve held you close, he knew that he had finally found the person who could chase away his insecurities, who could make him feel loved and cherished in a way that he had never thought possible. With you by his side, he knew that he could face anything that life threw his way.

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im-robins-bitch · 1 year

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Steve loves his passenger princess. He adores having you sit next to him in the front.

He loves how you’ll always share whatever you’re eating with him. How you lean over to give him the last sip of your milkshake and then kiss his cheek. He likes when you push a sweet into his awaiting mouth and he catches your finger between his teeth and sucks, the squeal you let out always makes him laugh.

Your stuff always ends up forgotten in his glove box, a chapstick, a hair tie and sometimes a mix tape. The items always end up coming in handy, so much so he wonders if you must have some kind of sense of knowing what he needs when he needs it.

In winter when his lips get all wind-chapped, he only needs to pop the glove box open to find a fruity chapstick you’ve left behind. As cheesy as it sounds, it always feels like a kiss from you when he tastes the familiar flavour.

When he’s due a haircut and his hair starts to get in his eyes, he always finds a hair tie or scrunchie in the side compartment. You always complain that the headrests hurt your head when you lean back with an updo, so they almost always end up coming down.

Your mixtapes, sometimes covered in hearts left especially for him, other times tapes you genuinely left behind, always remind him of you when he needs you.

Mike once found Steve’s ‘makeout mix’, because you insisted Led Zepplin was the best to make out to and Steve wanted to prove you wrong. He’s not sure Mike is ever going to let that go.

You took on your role as designated navigator, DJ and Steve feeder seriously, much to Dustin's chagrin. Anytime you would be picked up after Dustin, he was quickly relegated to the back. The two of you would bicker about it, normally ending in him throwing fast food wrappers at you while you played a tape he hated on top volume to drown out his complaints.

Although Steve loved the kids, sometimes it was nice to be able to grab you and drive out somewhere quiet, he didn’t really like taking you to skull rock or lovers lake. He wanted to make sure you knew he wasn’t like that anymore. Instead, he would drive somewhere just out of town. He’d open the doors of his BMW so you could hear the music playing from the radio while you slow danced around the car, stargazed or made out on the hood.

When he heard about how you struggled with and failed driver's ed made him a little happy. He knew that your driving dates wouldn’t be ending anytime soon. It just gave him more opportunities to spend time with you. He doesn’t want you to get soaked riding your bike to work, if it gives him more opportunities to ogle you in your work clothing then it’s just an added bonus.

At first, it felt awkward to ask him to drive you somewhere because you couldn’t get there yourself. One day you expressed your concerns, that you felt bad that he always had to be the one driving you two to places and how he was always giving you rides.

He was all reassurance as he insisted that he enjoyed driving and he enjoyed it even more when you were sat next to him. Whenever you would offer to pay for gas he would always brush you off, claiming he only accepted payment in kisses. He was always overpaid.

Steve loves having you as his passenger princess but always say’s if you want to learn he can always teach you. Maybe one day you’ll accept, but for now, you were content like this.

masterlist

#steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington self insert #steve harringon x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fanfiction

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greenandsorrow · 10 hours

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You're my best friend

✨Eddie in love with his best friend (fem!reader), feelings of inadequacy, fluff, comfort, light angst✨

"Damsel I'm back!!!! It's so excruciating going grocery shopping..."

It's the melodramatic entrance and the small pout at the end of his sentence as he kicks off his stinky shoes that makes you chuckle.

"Glad you survived Edds."

You two used to talk at school and were on good terms. After he failed to graduate twice you became classmates and got so so so so so close. The truth is that he always had a crush on you, but regardless of that your friendship is real and runs deep.

When you were looking for a place to stay after deciding you needed some time away from your family, Eddie told you that you can stay with him -his uncle is barely at home anyway- as long as you do the cooking. Least to say, you accepted the offer.

You listen to him playing his electric guitar, he keeps you company while you study, you have laughed and cried together. He doesn't mind you're not a complete freak like him, but more of a black sheep at school. There have been rumours you're dating and at first you liked being dramatic about it. Unfortunately for him, you're actually dating someone now so the "being dramatic about it" has stopped. Eddie doesn't enjoy your romantic interest taking your attention away from him, but he respects you too much to say anything that could even remotely throw you off.

You are roommates, you have your rules, your movie nights... and he's a gift from God you can't lie. He has learnt and accepted your every little quirk and peculiarity.

Sometimes you make hot chocolate and play Scrabble with Dustin and him. Sometimes you play with his hair while he's stoned. He has significantly cut down on smoking all this shit since you moved in.

Eddie isn't the jealous type, but the pit at his stomach envious type, the delicate disappointment that he can't have you the way others do type.

You'll be his first and last kiss.

Eddie drives you everywhere with his trashy car. He's the best company you could have ever asked for. You love your friend. You wish more people could see him the way you do.

The night is uneventful with you falling asleep on the couch as per usual. In the morning, Eddie wakes you up by ruffling your already messy hair and singing "you are my sunshine" in an ear bleeding frequency.

You're too sleepy to care and just stretch, your lack of a bra not going unnoticed. An awkward giggle is all he lets out, but internally he's so grateful for his hair covering his ears. They're burning too intensely for this time of day.

You get ready for school. It's all routine.

After school, you have your shift at the same place Mrs. Wheeler works in. At least it's quiet.

At this point you feel too bored for your own good, not to mention how your date canceled on you a third time in a row. You return home so done with life. Your hero, Eddie, has prepared the hot water just for you. He welcomes you in by telling you that you're late and have missed the DnD match, but he quickly realizes you're not in the mood.

You're so mentally exhausted, fed up and frustrated with your canceled date that you try to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Eddie gets a little hurt because the rules say no pitty fucking amongst pals.

When there's no reaction from him you just pull back and shrug. You won't show how embarrassed you actually feel. Not in this already pitiful state. Eddie knows about the canceled dates.

He does try to move on and get some snacks and a movie ready. He is flustered... your breath was so hot on his face... good thing he has time to shake the feeling off while you shower.

"The grime has been washed off!"

"We can talk about it, ...if you want to that is?"

Eddie is genuinely worried about your emotional state and he makes you open up and even break down in his arms. You have been living in denial but your love interest has been distancing themselves from you.

After this crying session, with you holding onto Eddie's warm body and wetting his Hellfire Club shirt with mascara tears, you put on a horror film. He even lets the fact that you're wearing your now ex's hoodie drop. Even though the revelation makes his chest tighten and his breath canal feel like it's been blocked.

You fall asleen on him.

He can feel the outline of your curves and your breasts pressing against him but the way he's holding you is gentle, like he's afraid you'll break into a thousand small, sharp pieces if he squeezes you too hard. You're even snoring softly, completely drained from all the crying.

At least you can't notice the silent tears running down his face. It's unfair. He's choking up in all the unsaid things. He had to see you crying over someone that doesn't even appreciate you while he was there. Exposed to you, ready to give you all he had.

Is he not your best friend? Who is there painting your nails and giving you scalp massages when your period headaches torment you?

Maybe if his mother hadn't abandoned him he would have been able to ask her for advice. He feels like crap now. Are you really that blind? Do you take him for granted to such an extent as you showed him tonight?

Another morning comes, but insecurities gnaw at Eddie. He can't fake a smile when you yawn and open your eyes, realising you're still wrapped around him.

"You look like shit."

Normally he wouldn't mind your choice of words at all, probably finding something even worse to say to you, but in his fragile state... Eddie snaps.

"It's not funny y/n! Do you think it's funny when someone spends the night sleepless?!"

You tilt your head, your mouth forming a straight line.

"I didn't mean to-"

"Oh no, I don't wanna hear it! Are you really as insensitive as you let out?"

"Edds I... I-"

"Shut up! Just shut up! I can't take it anymore! You have me wrapped around your finger y/n, feeding me hope and baked goodies.. but I've never heard a single I love you Eddie, not a single I actually care for you Eddie... Nothing!"

His big eyes are glassy now, tears threatening to spill down his freshly shaven cheeks. It breaks your heart to see him like this.

"B- but I do... I do love you!"

Your voice cracks as you feel your own eyes swelling up with tears.

"Then prove it! Prove it goddamn it! Wear my hoodies, worry over me for a change... Just please... Please-"

All the energy and anger have vanished from his expression and tone. Your gaze has softened as well and he feels like he's melting under it.

You extend your arms, wrapping them tightly around him. Eddie returns the embrace like you're gonna vanish into thin air if he doesn't hold you close enough to be able to feel your heartbeat against his own.

"Have I been so blind?" you ask without breaking the hug.

"Yes you glorious idiot of a girl..."

The pout... the melodrama. He's okay now. You stay like this for a while, missing your classes but at least settling into the conclusion.

You two belong together.

Support a struggling university student! Even a single penny means the world coming from you. Thanks🫶-> CLICK HERE(PayPal link)

my masterlist

I found a flash drive with all my shifting scripts from quite some time ago, so since I'm still in this stupid writer's block I thought it'd be fun to work on some already existing stories. I had to edit this ALOT, but it came out cute ngl✨

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 2 years

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Don’t Drink the Punch

pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Byers!reader

genre: follows show plot lines, but will diverge from canon

WC: 7K

warnings: cursing, alcohol, mention of weed and a quick with cigs, part of the stancy fight, mentions of throwing up. should be it.

summary: maybe next time, don’t drink punch that’s ‘pure fuel’. halloween sure was a crazy night, too bad you can’t remember much.

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

series masterlist

we are going to ignore time when reading my stories because i also ignore it when writing! i put two and three together, but honestly ep3 (the physical ep) is barely in here, just the fight between stancy and a quick scene of joyce calling the radio shack for bob, once we leave the party that’s where ep3 begins.

thank you to @alecmores for proof reading!

previous chapter next chapter

Halloween has finally arrived in Hawkins, Indiana. House decorated in fake cobwebs, a corn maze was organized by Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, and candy was sold out in pretty much every grocery and convenience store. Pumpkin patches sadly were supposedly destroyed, so you weren’t able to pick one out to carve with Will like you usually do. But it was still going to be a great Halloween, you asked Robin over the phone yesterday if she was interested in going to Tina’s party and her response was, “do you really want to go to the party? Sure you don’t want to just come here?” “We don’t have to stay long, an hour at most, if we aren’t enjoying it after that, then we can go to your place. Deal?” “Mmm, sure. It’s a deal.”

You felt so giddy at the idea of finally going to a high school party, you tried to bring it down a notch knowing it’s not gonna be like the movies, but still, a Halloween party! You hope it was good enough to stay longer than an hour. You’re gonna let yourself be a dumb teenager tonight and get fucking drunk.

With your hair styled in tight ringlets and tied together with a blue ribbon, a light blue shadow dusted over your lids and your lips puckered pink. You smooth your hands down the fabric of the blue dress and slipped into some blue ballerina flats. You took a look into your mirror to see if you need any touch-ups or if you looked stupid, but when you looked into the mirror, you smiled. You felt quite pretty today.

Walking from your room to the kitchen you took a peek inside Will’s room, he was wearing his beige Ghostbusters jumper and Joyce was helping with the black ghost pack. You leaned against the doorway for a moment before speaking, “Nice costume.”

Will and Joyce both turned in the direction of your voice. Will had a shining smile on his face and Joyce placed her hands over her heart.

“Pretty dress,” Will noted.

“Honey, you look so beautiful!” you thought Joyce was gonna spill a few tears.

Thanking both of them, you stepped into the room and sat down on Will’s bed, holding your hands out for him to take. Your hands rest on your thighs while you just look at Will, then you move a hand to smooth his bangs and you let your eyes search him, trying to find something. With a hand on his cheek you leaned in closer to him, “are you okay?” you whispered.

He took a moment, but in the end, he just nodded a yes to your question. You didn’t want to push him, not after yesterday, but you knew he wasn’t telling the full truth. You gave a forced smile to Will, trying to show him that you were gonna try and step back just a bit.

Standing from the bed, you smoothed his hair one more time before heading to the kitchen where you could smell Jonathan making breakfast. The smell of eggs, sausage, and some toast wafted through the house, a comforting smell. With a plate already set on the table, you decided to dig in.

“You know-” you said with some eggs in your mouth, “you will make a great housewife one day.”

Jonathan scoffed at your joke, “Oh, and you’re gonna find an amazing trophy husband in the future.”

“Hell yeah. Just because I’m able to birth babies doesn’t mean I want to constantly take care of them, I’m already like a second mother to Will sometimes,” you bit into your toast.

Jonathan fully turned around now and he stopped at the sight of you all dressed up. Only on special occasions do you get fully ready, taking a while to pamper yourself pretty. He set the other two plates on the table then grabbed a tight ringlet, and pulled it down.

“Hey, I worked hard on these,” swatting his hand away.

“You know Halloween is tonight. You don’t have to be dressed up right now.”

“Okay, so Will wants to dress up for school, but I can’t. That’s misogynistic of you, Jonathan.” His mouth gaped open, “what-” You threw a hand into his chest, giggles spilling past your lips, “I’m kidding dude. I just felt like wearing it for school today, plus it’s just a dress, nothing like Will’s.”

He then backed off, knowing it’s Halloween, if you wanted to be dressed up for school you can do so for your pleasure.

Joyce and Will finally joined the both of you in the kitchen. All four of you are chatting, about school, about tonight and the rules, reminding Joyce that you’re going to Robin’s for the night. When everyone was done eating you helped Jonathan wash and dry the dishes while Will got the rest of his belongings together, the both of you were gonna take pictures before leaving.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to Tina’s party tonight?”

Jonathan turned his head at your question, “What? Why? You decide to go?” He chuckled at the idea.

When you didn’t counter back right away he looked back at you, a small frown on his face, “(Y/n), come on. Do you really want to go to a party filled with drunk teenagers? Teenagers, who are mostly people that don’t like us?” “I know, but it would be nice to experience it just once. Plus Robin’s going with me, and we’ll only stay an hour at most. Come on, if you drive us, we can get drunk, and you can be the dd because you’re a wet blanket,” you threw a gentle elbow to his ribs.

He didn’t respond, just went back to washing the dishes and handing them to you for drying off, “At least- at least just think about it. Please?”

With a tiny turning of his head, he gave a nod.

And that was the end of the conversation.

…

“No way.”

You turned away from the inside of your locker and met the wide-eyed face of Robin. You look down at yourself then back up to her face, “what?” “Uh, two things. One, you look very pretty, and two, why are you wearing it at school?”

“My little brother wore his to school, I just felt like doing it as well. What’s wrong anyway, it's just a dress!”

“Yeah, but you’re a junior in high school, it’s a little different than a- what grade is Will in?” “Eighth grade,” “Eighth grade compared to Junior year, kinda different.”

You just rolled your eyes and closed your locker. The two of you walk down the crowded halls, elbows and warm bodies bumping into each other. Couples being gross, being way too intimate, or making out against lockers, it was eight-thirty in the morning.

“Can’t they keep it in their pants at least till lunch, actually no, because I’ll probably throw up my food,” Robin commented.

A breathy laugh left your lips. You surveyed the halls, your eyes roaming from one person to another, the feeling of their eyes watching your passing figure kept you on alert. You knew that today you looked completely different compared to your usual school or everyday attire, but the feeling of them watching you. The eyes trailing down your figure, the giggles of girls, and murmurs. Maybe dressing up for school was a bad idea.

“Robin,” “(Y/n).” “Be honest, are people staring at me?”

Robin did a quick check around the crowded halls and took in the boys with their mouths agape, the girls chewing their gum obnoxiously, their very pointed stares on you.

“Ah, no I don’t think so.”

“Robin,”

“No yeah, people are staring at you.”

You just groaned. Now, you’re regretting this decision.

“I think it’s because these dudes are shocked they are just now seeing how beautiful you are, and the girls are jealous. Hell, I would one hundred percent ask you on a date if I didn’t already know about your little crush,” Robin tried to make you feel better.

“And I one hundred percent would date you if you asked.”

…

“Well, it looks like someone is excited for tonight.”

The abrupt male voice broke through the quiet conversation between you and Robin on the bleachers. The two of you watched as the metalhead trudged up the metal steps, the sound of his feet hitting each step reverberating in the air. In a joking manner, Eddie gave a bow, he was acting like a court jester and you were the sitting princess.

“My Lady.” “Oh, shut up,” lightly pushed his shoulder.

He sat on the bench below you and Robin, his lunchbox, which you knew was filled with weed, he placed it beside him the metal vibrating. Robin ate a sandwich and shared her chips with you as you worked through your homework. Bob let you take the day off, so now until the trick-or-treating, you are making sure your assignments are finished.

“Going to Tina’s Halloween bash?” Robin asked Eddie.

He sighed, “yes and no, it’s kinda a work event. If you look at it that way. Drunk kids, love to get high.”

“Gonna get high, Byers?”

You shot your head up from the work and flushed at the words falling from Eddie’s mouth, the playful wiggle to his brows.

“Oh, you smoke (Y/n)?” Robin turned to you.

“Ah, it was for a little- nightmares and such. Not anymore though.”

You shot Eddie with a pointed look trying to convey your thoughts, but even if he saw the glare, he chose to ignore it and met Robin with a playful smile dancing devilishly across his face.

“Oh, Byers and I would hang out in my van for hours and smoke. Really good times, and then one day, when we were both high, she ended up-”

“Hitting! I accidentally hit Eddie while high, really embarrassing thing,” you fibbed.

Robin slowed in her chewing, just watching the way you and Eddie were interacting with each other at the moment. The two of you have a staring contest, you with your bold eyes watching Eddie who looked to be holding back a laugh, he thought this whole exchange was hilarious and it was pissing you off a bit. Switching tactics of trying, and I mean trying to use intimidation, you decide to use sympathy instead. Using the puppy eyes, ones that your family says can work on anyone.

With a pout on your lips, a sight furrow of brows, and your eyes changing looks, “Yeah- yeah a good smack to my cheek. Her punches are really strong,” Eddie lied.

“Okay,” Robin said one word slowly.

“So, you're dressing up tonight, Munson?”

…

With the bell signaling the final class for the day, everyone rushed from their classes and flooded the halls. Walking beside Eddie as he walked you towards your locker, the both of you engaged in conversation, neither of you noticed the two people just three lockers away. With a bump to your hip and a gentle push to his shoulder the both of you split, Eddie giving another bow before departing through the double doors down the corridor.

“You two sure are close.” Turning to the voice, Nancy was putting things in her locker while Steve leaned against one, his arms crossed over his chest and feet crossed at the ankle. You looked from them to the doors Eddie walked through, a quick tilt of your head, “Ah, yeah. Got closer over the summer.”

You walked to your locker and threw in everything that you didn’t need for the day, stuffing your books and homework you finished into the cramped space, “You two going to Tina’s tonight?”

“Oh, yeah. Doing Risky Business. What do you think (Y/n), am I better looking than Cruise?”

Turning your attention away from your books and onto Steve, his winning smile on display just waiting for your answer to his question, ‘dangerous territory’ you thought.

“Oh, now you see, there is a pretty obvious answer to your question.”

“So you think I’m better looking?” a cocky smile.

You slammed your locker shut, a teasing smile, “oh, now, I thought you were smarter than that Steve. It’s so obviously Cruise, sorry Harrington.”

You left the two of them heading for Jonathan, “see you two at Tina’s!” you yelled just before exiting the school for the day.

…

“So you hit “T” to zoom in, and “W” zooms back out. See? Easy-peasy.”

Bob was teaching Jonathan how to work the new camcorders, Joyce wanted to have Will’s night out on tape since she wasn’t joining this year. She and Bob were staying at the house to give out candy and watch some movies, it was cute.

“Just make sure to turn off the power to save energy there. You can always ask (Y/n) for help, she knows her way around one of these, don’t ya?”

“All thanks to you, boss,” the two of you shared a smile.

Jonathan walked over to Will and Joyce, “Are you ready, bud?”

“Yeah.”

“Just try and keep an eye on him.” “We will mom, it’s gonna be fine,” you reasoned to her.

Will had a beaming smile on his face, ready to go out with his friends for the night and collect candy that will give him tummy aches for days after. Smiling at your fond memories of you and Jonathan trick-or-treating. One year when Will was still small the three of you did Scooby Doo, you as Daphne, Jonathan as Shaggy, and little Will as baby Scooby. And then one Halloween about four years ago, you tried doing a look from Breakfast at Tiffany’s, not as iconic as Audrey Hepburn, but still good.

The three of you ushered out the door and towards Jonathan’s car.

“Be safe,” Joyce yelled out.

“I hope it doesn’t suck!” Bob called out imitating Dracula, poorly you might add.

The boys giggled a bit at the joke, you flicked at both their ears for laughing at Bob.

The car was silent for a few minutes then Jonathan decided to speak up, “I just don’t get what she sees in him.”

“What?” Will asked in the passenger seat.

“Bob.”

“Hey, Bob is a great man. You just find him too dorky,” you quoted the one word.

He scoffed, “no I don’t.”

“At least he doesn’t treat me different,” Will murmured.

You and Jonathan got quiet for a moment. If you were to list the people who are very doting on Will after the Upside Down it would be Joyce, You, and Jonathan, then the party. Bob didn’t know about what happened to Will, all of you decided to not mention anything to him, also you all signed NDAs.

“I mean, I can’t even go trick-or-treating by myself. It’s lame.” “Hey, going with a group of people is always more fun than by yourself,” you threw out.

“You think I’m lame? You think (Y/n)’s lame?” “I’m not lame, just fyi.”

Will sighed, “no, but it’s not like Nancy’s coming to watch over Mike, you know?”

You chewed on your bottom lip, looking from Will who was watching the trees whiz past the speeding car, then to Jonathan’s eyes in the rearview mirror. All three of you just released quiet sighs and that was the end of the conversation for the rest of the ride to the Wheeler’s.

…

The three boys were walking up the grass lawn just as Jonathan pulled up to the curb. Jonathan honked the horn in greeting. Placing the car into park, Jonathan turned to Will as he grabbed the ghost pack getting ready to leave.

“Hey, listen,”

“Yeah?”

“If I let you go on your own, you promise to stay in the neighborhood?”

The spark was back in Will’s eyes, “Yeah! Yeah, yeah, totally.”

“And be back at Mike’s by nine,” you added from the back.

“Nine-thirty?”

You and Jonathan looked at each other for a moment, “nine,” Jonathan stated firmly.

“Yeah.” “Deal?” “Yeah, deal.”

“All right, go have fun, bud,” Jonathan added.

You grabbed the camcorder and pushed it up front, “hey, Will. Don’t let any of the idiots use this, all right? I don’t want to worry about Bob pulling it from my paycheck.”

“Okay,” he said with a chuckle.

“I hope it doesn't suck,” Jonathan imitates Bob.

You gave a swift smack to his shoulder, “What the hell?”

“Idiot,” you mumbled.

The two of you waved off Will as he rushed over to the three boys, the four of them shouting and smiling with joy. They were messing around with their pillowcases for a moment, then they headed off into the neighborhood, on a mission for some cavity-inducing candy. Weariness brewed in the pit of your stomach, worried something might happen to Will while you and Jonathan weren’t present, but you both know he needed this.

“Awesome,” Jonathan whispered while looking at his crumpled orange paper.

Smiling tugging at your face, the weariness fading to the back of your mind for the moment, “so, Tina’s?”

He turned his head at your voice, a grimace on his face, “Robin first?” “Step on it, chauffeur! We have a party to attend!”

He sighed, then put the car into gear.

…

“Wow” “I regret this” “What the hell is Bruce Stevens wearing?”

Girls On Film by Durn Durn was blasting through the many speakers at Tina’s house, it almost looked like the building was bouncing and bumping with the beat of the song. Teens dressed in different costumes ranging from a current pop culture interest to just a simple shirt with a dumb character face mask. Everyone had red solo cups in hand, some cigarettes, and a few couples making out against cars or on the lawn. There were screams and chants from the backyard, people chanting numbers then bursting into calls of someone's name. And then, finally, Bruce Stevens came rushing out the front door and threw up onto the lawn, classy.

It was a lot to take in within the first five minutes of arrival.

You and Robin linked arms, you were still dressed as Wendy, and it looked like Robin threw together a last-minute costume, “I’m one of the outsiders!” she declared. Jonathan trailed behind the both of you, he was like a weak bodyguard.

Walking through the front door, you were instantly hit with the smell of smoke and spilled beer. The air in the crowded house was warm, it was close to feeling like summer all over again just from the living room. The bass of the music makes the floor thump in time with the beat. People grinding against the other, both intentional and unintentional, everyone too drunk to care about a little personal space.

You and Robin pushed your way through the people crowding the door, Jonathan just behind you both. Looking behind to make sure Jonathan was staying close when something else caught you by surprise.

“Holy shit!” “What!” Robin screeched.

You turned her around to look at the scene before you, Jonathan was talking with a cute girl in a KISS costume. He must have said something funny ‘cause the girl was chuckling at whatever the remark was, then they both shook hands in a greeting.

Pleasantly surprised by these events, you pulled Robin with you towards the kitchen. You were in search of a hard drink to get you drunk fast. Having found your destination, you grabbed solo cups for the two of you and looked into the clear punch bowl that had a fog brewing atop the red liquid. Dipping the cups in, you passed Robin a cup and you clicked in cheers.

“What the fuck is this stuff!” you downed the liquid like water.

“This is going to be a dangerous night,” Robin commented.

You giggled at the comment and went back in for seconds, then thirds, and fourths. Whatever amount you were on, you finally went to the dance floor when a song caught your full drunken-dazed attention, “Robin!” and you pulled her behind you to the crowded floor.

Not being even an ounce sober you were just moving your body around in a way that just felt freeing and comforting, you even pulled Robin into whatever dance you were doing, your bodies intertwined.

“Byers!” a voice shouted over the noise.

You twirled your body, colliding into the hard chest of someone, their hands sitting just below where your bra band sat. You were a giggling mess, something was funny that only you saw or thought of, and your drink was long forgotten somewhere in the house, someone might have even taken it.

Your hands traveled from the stranger's chest and up to their neck then finally rested on their cheeks, you squeezed the mushy muscle. Your vision was blurring, one body could have been three bodies. You giggled again, the images were funny to your mind.

“Hey- hey handsome, or gor-gouse, whoever, wanna- wanna kiss?” your words were slurring together from the alcohol and time it settled in your body.

Leaning your face forward, waiting for lips to make contact with yours. Instead, a warm feeling heated your cheeks, your face being pushed back. Blinking your heavy lids, you were just able to make out the person before you, only because he was always in your dreams.

“St- Stevie?”

A clicking noise sounded off, “Sorry babe,” yeah, your vision was fucked.

Eddie was holding your face, “Where’s Ro- Robin?”

“She went to the bathroom, and found me before she hurried off.”

“Wh- where’s Jonathan?”

“Now that, I don’t have the answer.”

“Why don’t we get you some water, huh?” You pouted but complied when Eddie slipped a hand into yours. Pushing and stumbling through the crowd, you were allowed a moment of free space in the kitchen. You leaned a hip into the counter while Eddie grabbed a cup and filled it to the brim, “chug it, Byers,” Eddie tilted the cup to your lips. Chugging the water you felt like a starved man on an island, your hands limply grasped for the cup.

Eddie grabbed the cup back and filled it again, you wiped the droplets off your face. Just as you grabbed for the cup you heard everyone around you ‘ooooo’, you turned to look for the scene to cause such a reaction. Standing before you, actually standing in front of you, Nancy and Steve stood across from each other, and all the party-goers stood still. Nancy had a giant red stain splashed across the front of her white shirt, and Steve leaned against the counter, he ran a hand through his hair in a stressed manner.

“What the hell?” Nancy slurred.

Nancy hurried off into the crowd and Steve followed a second behind, “Nance.”

Eddie blocked your view of the party, the now refilled solo cup pushing against your lips. Grasping for the cup you chugged the water down again, almost choking on the speed you were drinking, “Jesus, you don’t have to chug it.”

“Another!” you screeched.

Eddie went to refill the cup for the third time, and Robin reappeared from nowhere, “You two see the scene between Wheeler and Harrington?”

“I think I wanna go home now, or yours Robin. I just- I think I should leave. I’m too- I’m too dru-nk,” words still slurring together.

“Okay, you can come to mine, my mom’s working a late shift. So I’ll go look for Jonathan and tell him, stay with Eddie,” and she hurried off.

Rubbing your hands over your face, you tried to will yourself sober, at least the water was helping just a bit. You were gonna have the worst hangover tomorrow morning, and god the throwing up, you regret this.

“I regret getting drunk,” you said aloud to Eddie.

Eddie chuckled and pushed the solo back into your hands, “drink, slowly.”

Just as you finished your third cup of water and handed the cup to Eddie you caught movement. Looking over at the crowd, everyone getting drunk and stoned, everyone forgetting the scene Nancy and Steve had only minutes ago. You saw Steve rushing through the crowd, you couldn’t tell from the distance between you and him, but he looked stressed and as if he wanted away from this party before he collapsed or something terrible happened in front of everyone. Your feet moved before your mind caught up to your actions and just before you reached the crowded living room, an arm gripped your bicep and pulled you back.

“You’re not disappearing on me, Byers.”

“But, Steve…” “I know babe, but you’re drunk and I don’t want Jonathan to bite my head off for losing you.” You giggled at that, forgetting what you were doing just a second ago, “Jonathan won’t hurt you, I’m the one with the brawns, remember? I smacked you!” a string of giggles followed.

Just then Robin came back, an arm went around your waist and she tugged one of your arms over her shoulder, “We’re gonna meet Jonathan at his car, and Nancy is coming as well.”

“Huh?” She just shook her head, “See you later Munson.” “Take care of our friend, Buckley, have a bucket ready!” …

The room was too bright, the air felt too thick, and the bedsheets rubbed against your skin in a way that felt like sandpaper. Everything felt wrong and too much at the moment, just even breathing felt wrong to your body. Curling up deep into yourself, just wanting to shut everything out and not exist for the moment, just a small relief of bliss from your hangover and the ache of your skull and body, but it didn’t last long. A door slammed open and then closed accompanied by a too-loud voice.

“(Y/n)! Wakey wakey!”

You just lifted a hand limply into the air trying to make a signal to Robin for her to quiet down.

“Get up! We have to get to school!” “Who’s going to school after last night?” your throat felt dry like a desert.

“Everyone, ‘cause if no one showed up it would be an early senior ditch day.”

“Ugh, I don’t even think I brought my bag with me, and I don’t have extra clothes.”

“Well first sit up and drink this water,” the thunk of the cup sitting on Robin’s nightstand rang like a gong going off in your ears.

“I already called Jonathan to make sure he grabs your bag, and I have some old clothes you could try. But first, drink this water and take some Advil, and take a quick shower to wash your makeup off. I’ll leave some clothes by the bathroom door for you,” and she left you, moving quietly you might add.

…

“I think my brain is gonna explode inside my skull any minute now.”

“So dramatic.”

You and Eddie hung out by the forest lining the school grounds, both of you choosing to ditch second period. You were seated on the bench hidden deep in the trees, the one where Eddie does all his business during school hours. He was lighting a cigarette between his lips, the smell of the tobacco made you crinkle your nose, but the urge to have a blunt hit you, “Can I have a hit?” A brow raised at your question, “That hungover?” “Oh yeah. Don’t know what the hell they put in that devil punch,” your fingers pinching for the death stick.

Your lungs when inhaling the nicotine burned, but you welcomed it with pleasure and pain. It filled you with some type of relief from your headache. Your shoulders shagged from their tense posture, you held the smoke for a few seconds then with your lips forming a perfect ‘o’ shape, smoke rings were pushed out. Taking one more hit you then passed it back to Eddie.

“So you remember anything from last night,” smoke passed from his lips.

Your eye widened, “not really, did I do something stupid?”

“You thought I was Harrington again,” he gave a breathy laugh.

“What the hell is wrong with me,” you ran your hands over your face in embarrassment.

“Your desire for Harrington must be really strong if you keep mistaking me for him, and you almost went after him when he rushed out the house. If you don’t watch yourself, you’re gonna get heartbroken like glass, the perfect hit and it crumbles.”

“Wow, so poetic of you, Shakespeare.”

Silence passed between your bodies, the rusting of fallen autumn leaves dropping from stems, the trees singing their song that you weren’t able to understand. Everything felt like a frozen moment in time, the two of you just enjoying the other’s company along with the woods shielding the world away from the two of you. Too bad it couldn’t last for longer than a moment.

“I’m just trying to look out for you, Byers. I care about you, I’ve seen you at what I assume is your lowest, the nightmares and everything. I’ve seen you slowly get better, getting a grip back on yourself. I don’t want all of that to just be thrown out the window just because of douchebag Harrington.”

“He’s not a douchebag…” Eddie threw a look your way, “...anymore. He’s growing out of that shell of himself. I swear.”

“Whatever you say, but just know, Robin and I will be here for you if you need mending done.”

The bell rang signaling the end of second period and moving into third. You gathered your belongings and headed back towards the stone building, you turned back to Eddie seeing that he didn’t join you.

“You coming?” “Nah, gonna stay out here a little longer.” “You know, if you keep skipping classes, you’re gonna be held back again!”

He just chuckled at your comment. Leaving him and the woods behind, the small moment of quiet just to walk back into the loud halls of teens you could care less about, “hey, Byers!” You turned to Eddie, “You know I’m here right? And Robin? We’re here for you if you can’t go to your family.”

Stilling for a moment, but then you nodded at him and walked back to the school. As you were taking your time walking to class, you watched the P.E. group running on the track outside and you could faintly hear the squeaking and shouting from within the gym. Just as you were about to pass the gym to enter the school, voices outside stopped you in your tracks.

“Apparently, uh… we killed Barb and I don’t care ‘cause I’m bullshit… and our whole…our whole relationship is bullshit, and… I mean, pretty much everything is just bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Oh, yeah, also, you don’t love me.”

Your eyes widened from the realization of who was talking and what the conversation was about.

Steve and Nancy were talking about whatever happened last night. You knew this was a conversation meant only for the two of them, but you were scared to take even a single step away, worried they might hear you. So you tried to stay like a statue, even holding your breath worried they might have bat hearing all of a sudden. You will yourself think of something else, zone out, anything to avoid this conversation. Watching the kids running the track wasn’t helping as you could still hear them.

“Well, then tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“You love me.” Your heart broke. The words sounded broken, sharp jagged pieces being spit from Steve’s mouth. You could tell how much Steve cared about Nancy when it was just the two of you and even more when the both of them were together, but sometimes Nancy looked like she wanted to be anywhere other than the present. Unintentionally hearing that Nancy thought their relationship was bullshit and her thinking Steve was bullshit, made a bit of anger rise within you, but this was something not meant for your personal feelings.

This was something between Nancy and Steve, something that they’ve been hiding, well, something that Nancy’s been hiding from Steve. She is hiding her true feelings about things, not happy with the way Steve’s handling situations compared to herself. Sadly that tiny bit of anger was pointed directly at Nancy and you hated yourself for it.

The abrupt noise of the gym doors banging open pulled you from your stupor. Bruce Stevens rushed out and looked down the alley at the bickering couple, “Harrington!” “Dude, we need you, man. That douchebag’s killing us. Let’s go!” “All right!” “Come on!”

And just before Bruce ran back inside he met your standing figure and flicked his head at you, “Byers! You were so hot last night!”

That was your cue to rush inside. With a quiet “thanks” to Bruce, you speed your way from the alley and into the empty halls, fourth period was long forgotten.

…

Wanting just to rush to work that day, wanting to ignore your hangover, wanting to forget the conversation between Nancy and Steve, you forgot that Jonathan said he had to leave early. So when you walked to the parking lot and didn’t see his car sitting with the engine running, your shoulders slumped and an empty exhale was released. Your bike wasn’t at school, you barely bike anywhere anymore with Joyce being worried.

You knew there was a pay phone near the front of the school, so turning back in that direction you managed to run into an oncoming body. The force in which you slammed yourself into their chest threw you off your feet and you would have landed on your ass if the person didn’t wrap their arms around your waist. Your hands reach out for their biceps to add extra support for yourself.

“In a rush, Byers?”

You thought for a moment it was Eddie, your mind still clouded with alcohol would continue to mix the two males up for some reason, but when you paid attention to the person it was him.

“Ah, sorry. I- Jonathan’s not here, so I was gonna call my mom. I don’t have a ride to work.”

His arms slipped from your waist, “I could take you if you want.”

“Oh, uh, you don’t have to. Maybe I could ask Robin or Eddie.”

“Seriously it’s no problem, Byers,” and he headed off in the direction of his BMW.

You hesitated, not sure if he was gonna bring up the conversation and your eavesdropping, but if he did you’ll just lie, just say you didn’t hear anything. Yeah, you can lie, it’s not even a bad lie, just a light fib. You didn’t even want to be involved with their relationship in any way, for normal reasons and selfish ones. So, with slow and hesitant steps, you walked to the passenger side and slid into the leather seat.

“Radio Shack, right?”

“Uh, yeah, on Main Street.”

With his answer, he started the car and headed off the school property. After just a few minutes you spoke, which might have been a bad idea, “so where’s Nancy? Don’t you usually drive her home?”

Why did your stupid mind have to bring up Nancy when you heard their conversation, but at least this could throw Steve off from thinking you did hear the dispute. You could feel the air thicken with tension from the question and the way Steve hesitated in his answer added more. His shoulders tense, the grip on the wheel tightening, and his jaw clenched.

“Uh, she- uh, she had to stay after school for a little. Told me she’ll have her mom get her.”

A lie, but you didn’t say anything about it, just nodded your head.

The suffocating silence came back. The two of you can make conversation both easily and also very difficult, today it looked to be difficult.

“So…you like working at Radio Shack?” Steve was trying to make small talk.

“Yeah. Bob’s a great boss, very kind and considerate with teaching me new things. It was a little weird at first, not used to that attitude from an older male figure. Only seen yelling and fighting, but I don’t have to stay on guard when I’m around Bob, it’s nice.”

Turning your head to Steve, you could see a tiny smile appearing, “And how do you feel about your boss dating your mom?”

A giggle slipped out, “it was a little weird at first, I admit. But after seeing how happy he made her, I got used to it quickly. Jonathan and Will, on the other hand, they’re being boys about it. Will seems more forgiving of Bob though which is great.”

“Well…I’m glad that you’re happy about this. I like seeing you happy about stuff, seeing people you care about feeling sad hurts in a way you can’t fix.”

Your breath got caught in your throat for a moment causing you to let out an abrupt cough. With your hand laying over your heart you could feel the fast thumping of your heart against your lungs. With your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, you took a quick look over at Steve.

He looked relaxed again while driving. His hands loosened on their grip and one hand rested under his jaw, the tiny smile still on his lips, his eyes holding just a bit of warmth compared to the coldness harboring just a few moments ago at the mention of Nancy. But with that warmth, you could tell that an underlying sadness rested behind his eyes, something that nested within his heart. And you wished you could fix it, just like he said earlier, it hurts seeing people you care about sad and you can’t do anything about it. But you knew that all that hurt came from Nancy and Steve's conversation earlier today, and that’s something only the two of them could work out.

“You see Bruce threw up yesterday at Tina’s? That whole party was crazy. And I regret drinking way too much of that punch.”

“Pure fuel,” Steve mumbled. “What?” you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.

“Uh, Bruce said it was ‘pure fuel’ whatever that means.” “Basically poison.” “Yep, pretty much,” he sighed.

Just as you opened your mouth to say something the store sign came into view and Steve pulled up next to Bob’s car. Deflating into the seat, you just grabbed your belongings and moved for the door, “hey.” Stopping in your actions you turned to Steve, “if you need a ride home again, you can call me. I don’t have any plans for the night anyway.”

“If you tell me that, don’t be surprised when I’m constantly calling your house just for a ride.” He chuckled, “I’ll happily be your chauffeur if it gets me away from the quiet.”

The teasing tone in your voice dropped, “and if you ever want to hang out sometime outside of school, you know where I live and work,” the tone returned for a moment.

The two of you just stared at each other, taking in this blissful moment inside Steve’s car. The outside world was completely forgotten by you, your work was put on the back burner of your mind where you just took in Steve. Trying to memorize him at this moment, something you always do when it’s just the two of you in a small pocket of peace.

“You should,” his voice broke the quiet spell, “probably head inside. Don’t want to be late.”

With one final look at Steve, you left the car and headed into the store.

…

“So, how was the party?” “Uh, pretty great,” you lied.

You couldn’t remember much from last night, everything just blurred together making it hard to differentiate the things you did and witness there. You didn’t want to tell Bob that you got practically shit-faced, you didn’t want him to judge you and he would probably end up telling Joyce, and you can’t have that either. I mean, it seemed great.

“Any trick-or-treaters?” “Nope, a quiet night.” “Yeah, no one really goes to our house since it’s away from the neighborhoods.”

Bob was about to say something when the phone started to ring. You being behind the counter, you brought the receiver to your ear, “Radio Shack, this is (Y/n). How can I help you?” “(Y/n), honey.” “Mom? Why are you calling?”

“Uh, is Bob there?” You looked around the story. He wasn’t in the front and then you turned to look in the back and couldn’t find him, “uh, I can’t find him at the moment. Maybe I could help?”

“Okay, well um… I’m trying to watch the tape from last night on Bob’s video thingy, and the tape, it’s…it’s tiny. It’s like it’s shrunk.”

You rubbed a hand against your temple as you tried to remember what Bob taught you, “I believe it’s ‘cause they’re not the same. It’s a VHS-C, not a VHS. You gotta find the- oh what was it…you gotta find the RF-P1U with coaxial cable so you can connect the video ins and outs.”

“Honey, what does any of that mean and how do you remember all that?”

You huffed, “Uh, basically you gotta put a bunch of wires into the back of the TV, and I honestly don’t know.”

She giggled at the last part, “Okay, just give me a few minutes,” and then the line went quiet.

After about three minutes her voice returned to the phone, “Okay I hooked a punch of cords into the back.”

“You sure, are they-”

“No, yeah, I did the coaxial things in the back, so I…this one just goes into the camera itself?” “If it’s an input that fits the camera, yeah, exactly.”

“It’s blue,” “Mom, I can’t remember the cords-”

“No, the TV is blue, I think it’s working.”

“Okay, well, see-” and she hung up before you could say a proper goodbye.

You pulled the phone back for a moment, “Rude,” you stated before placing it back onto the base.

A sudden feeling came over you as if you had just been splashed by a bucket of ice-cold water.

“I've got a bad feeling,” you mumbled to yourself.

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

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