#in recording one I think that might be steve screaming. not dustin saying 'run!'

[stevesbipanic]

Steve's only 25 when it all catches up to him.

It starts off small, things people wouldn't even be able to tell is an early sign of something wrong. Misplacing keys, forgetting which day he has his shifts, what time he's supposed to get Robin. Robin notices though.

Robin knows Steve always keeps his keys on the hook next to Eddie's by the front door, that's where he always finds them, he's not misplacing the keys, he's forgetting the hook exists.

Robin knows Steve has the same shifts every week, they never change because they line up with Eddie's at the record store nearby. Robin knows Steve isn't forgetting what time he's supposed to pick Robin up, he's forgetting Robin moved away a few months ago after she graduated college.

Robin keeps noticing when the kids start calling her because the little things are becoming big things.

Robin notices when Dustin calls and tells her Steve thought he and Suzie were back together, "Like how crazy is that we broke up two years ago, I don't think I've even mentioned her lately."

Robin notices when Lucas calls and tells her Steve asked when his next game was, "The season ended months ago, he came to the finals."

Robin notices when Max calls and whispers softly, "He asked to take me to the skatepark, Robin, I told him I had to help mum. He's forgotten I'm blind Robin."

Robin wished she'd noticed sooner, maybe years ago when Steve was getting knocked around a lot. She wished she'd screamed in the face of those Russians to take her instead. She wished a lot of things when Eddie called her.

"He's in hospital, Birdie, he collapsed at work."

Robin is back in Chicago for the first time since she graduated. She wished she'd visited sooner.

"Do you think the feds are gonna let me go soon, Robbie? I mean it usually doesn't take this long for them to bring me the NDAs."

Robin hopes Steve doesn't notice her eyes going glossy as she runs her fingers through his hair, "Don't worry Stevie, I'm sure they'll be in soon, Dusty is probs just arguing over something in his."

"At least he isn't having to explain he raised a demodog. Did I ever tell you about that Robbie?"

Robin smiles softly, "Yeah but tell me again, don't want to forget any of it."

Eddie gives Robin the gist of what the doctors said, Eddie didn't understand much, a lot of technical words and shit. Too many concussions, more than they knew about most likely. They say it'll probably get worse with no timeframe of how quickly it'll happen, there might be good days, there will be a lot of bad days.

The first bad day comes a week later. Steve barely remembers Eddie, trapped in a time when Eddie was just the kids DM. Eddie sobs in the corridor in Robin's arms. The next day it's like nothing happened and Steve gets discharged. They tell Steve, this time Eddie is the one to comfort him.

"I don't want to forget you Eds."

"It's okay if you do, sweetheart, I'll still be here."

It's Robins idea to start writing everything down. Eddie, Nancy and the kids all help. Filling journals upon journals of stories and pictures of Steve's life to help on the bad days. Steve has to quit his job, Robin moves back to Chicago, they make it work.

On bad days depending on how far back Steve is Dustin or Robin or Eddie will read through the books with him, filling in the gaps of what he needs. On the worst days, Eddie leaves the pile of journals on the bed with a note and waits downstairs to see if Steve will join him later.

They make it work for a few years. Steve celebrates his 30th birthday with perfect clarity. He writes himself an entry in the journal next to a big group picture with Steve and Eddie's matching rings showing.

That July, over a decade since Starcourt, Steve is in hospital again. He'd collapsed at breakfast. Eddie had thought it was going to be one of their good days, Steve had woken up fine, all his memories in tact if a little fuzzy. He'd made them coffee and giggled at Eddie's singing while he made them eggs and just like that it all came crashing down.

Steve's brain is shutting down. They don't know if he'll make it past Christmas. There's more bad days after that. More days with books left on the bed. Most days Steve doesn't even come downstairs. On the good days, Eddie always calls off work. He'd rather be fired than miss a single second of Steve smiling at him like he does, so full of love.

They have Christmas, the whole family comes, they have to bring every chair from around the house and squish in around the table just to fit but it's perfect. Steve sits between Robin and Eddie, face bright and full of love and life. Everyone gives him the tightest hug as the night closes, all lingering, afraid of letting go.

"I love you, dingus."

"I love you too, Robbie."

Later, upstairs in their room, Steve and Eddie go through all the journals, laughing softly at each little note the kids have left. Steve writes his little journal entry, a tradition of good days, and curls into Eddie's arm whispering soft loving words to each other before falling asleep.

Steve never wakes up.

The funeral happens shortly after, all of the family is still in town. Robin holds Eddie afterwards as they go through the journals together. When they get to the last page, they struggle not to smudge the ink with their tears.

Dear Eds and Robbie,

I don't know how many more good days I'm going to get so I'm leaving this here for you now. I love you both so much, you're equally my soulmates and I want you two to look after each other while I'm gone.

Robs, go travelling with Nancy, ok? Thank you for looking after me all these years but it's time for you to go look after yourself. Go see the world for me, tell me all about it wherever I am when you get back.

Eddie, I'm sorry we didn't get as much time as we hoped, I hope you know that even just a day with you has been worth a lifetime with anyone else. Go follow your dreams, write music, perform, show the world how amazing I know you are. I give you full permission to fall in love with whoever you meet along the way, I don't want either of you guys to be alone.

Thank you for giving me a life worth remembering.

Your Dingus,

Stevie

#omfg i sobbed writing this im sorry #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #st4 #steddie #stobin #robin buckely #angst #poor steve #concussions #memory loss #fuck i actually cried so much omfg #ficlet #major character death #tw major character death #tw death

[willbyersenthusiast]

SO I HAVE SEEN THE INFAMOUS NEW VIDEO AND HOLY SHIT

okay so my theories on it, they’re still slightly in the works i might come back and alter them but istg ive listened to the video like 10 times.

so the first recording. i firmly believe that the first part is all johnathan. BUT. that’s scream at the end of that recording? i know that voice anywhere.

that is noah. that’s my will.

you can try and try and try and change my mind that that scream?? that’s 100000% will.

now recording 2 for me is still in the works. i think it’s mostly hopper (david). now right before the last scream in the end, there’s someone else that shouts “RUN!” or something. i think that could be will but like i said im still reviewing. the last scream of “RUNNN!” again, however, that is david. the difference in pitch of the first and second one is way to stark for the second one to be noah.

people are saying parts of it are gaten, or are joseph quinn and saying eddie is gonna come back and look. idk if there’s any st5 eddie truthers that follow me but dude. im sorry. eddie isn’t coming back. i have another theory on characters like him that ill post about in a second to show my reasoning on why he’s not coming back, but that’s not the point.

like i said im still on the fence about the second clip but i think the grouping that we’re looking at here is: johnathan, hopper, will. potentially: dustin? murray? steve??? i really don’t know. i’ll probably end up analyzing further 💀

#stranger things #st5 leaks #st5 speculation #st5 spoilers #st5 #will byers #noah schnapp #jim hopper #david harbour #johnathan byers #charlie heaton #dustin henderson #gaten matarazzo #murray bauman #brett gelman #st5 theory

[friendsdontlieokay]

Even though I might die in an hour from the shock and overwhelm, let's discuss and analyse the latest spoiler/leak/recording "Run, Steve, run!"

There are speculations going on, that it's either Will, Dustin or Jonathan. I've heard it from each perspective and my money's on Jonathan, bonus points cause I want it to be Jonathan too. To me, I could clearly hear Jonathan in every part, but just a few of them tangled up with Dustin's, like the "hear me" in "Steve do you hear me!?" and especially that terrifying "RUN!" that has left chills in my bones, maybe because Jonathan has never screamed like that but still that could be him given the circumstances, plus this season is gonna go back to the pairings of the first season, so I'm thinking Stoncy (not romantically, just the trio).

Even though in the first few listens, I speculated that Steve was the one in the chokehold, and it is tearing and terrifying me apart, but the second recording has left me in a cliffhanger of confusion, I think it's Jonathan (or the person who was yelling) who is actually the one in the chokehold and is yelling at Steve to run and rescue himself as Steve is trying to fight back Vecna and protect Jonathan, this theory clicks right one more time by the next recording too because if you pay close attention you can distinctly hear Vecna's voice, some of the comments say he says "Steve.." but no confirmation though and then one of the crew members say "Grab him by the neck!" and then a couple seconds later you can hear Jonathan (or the person who was yelling which could be Jonathan) saying "Steve..run" again, but this time, as if he was being choked, maybe by a vine? God, I hope whoever this is, escapes safe, if not safe, at least alive.

#stranger things #jonathan byers #steve harrington #stonathan #stoncy #stancy #jancy #will byers #byler #dustin henderson #duzie #jargyle #steddie #stobin #harringrove #target audience #st5 #st5 leaks #st5 spoilers #st5 filming #st5 filming update

[platypanthewriter]

Fuck the Afterlife

Don’t worry, nobody’s dead...that we know.  Harringrove April Prompt Day 24: Afterlife!  A misunderstanding leads to everybody appreciating Billy a whole lot.

Billy couldn’t stop snickering under the sheet, even with Steve’s arms around him, and his face sniffling against Billy’s side, so Max stalked over to the bed and kicked Billy’s leg.  “Shut up,” she slurred, at five in the morning, her hand locked with Lucas’.  Their wedding rings gleamed.  “You’re dead, remember,” she told Billy, “—so shut the hell up.”  Will giggled from over by the window, wiping his eyes, but El still looked solemn.

“You shut up,” Billy hissed back.  “Stop drinking, everybody, jesus, how come I’m the only sober person here.” 

“You think I’m gonna turn down free liquor,” Erica Sinclair said, sitting against the windowsill, and playing with the little umbrella in her glass.  Robin laughed, leaning against the window, tears streaking down her face.

“Because…’cause we all thought.  Thought you were dead,” Nancy muttered, staggering into the foot of the bed, and leaning her elbows on the footboard.  “Steve here was drunk before he even called us.”

“I’m just saying, if I have to lie here like a corpse with a sheet over my face—” Billy started, but Max cut him off.

“Dead men don’t get cocktails,” she said, waving something blue, and taking a swig.  “We gather here to celebrate the life of one Billy Hargrove,” she intoned, to general sniffles and giggles.  “So shut up and listen, dead man, you brought this on yourself.  Billy Hargrove,” she sighed, “—a man I definitely did not know and had no relation to, who died due to gross sex crimes.”

Everyone laughed harder, and Billy threw the sheet back, propping himself up on his elbow to glare around at the Sinclairs, and Robin Buckley, and what seemed like half the town.  His face was flaming.  “Hang on now,” he said, waving his splinted finger.  “I’m not gonna sit here—”

“Lie here,” Dustin put in, from where he sat by Steve’s feet, and Billy flipped him off.  

“I’m not gonna lie here and get accused of gross sex crimes when that’s not even what happened—”

“Don’t you look me in the eyes and tell me you’ve never committed any gross sex crimes, you fucking liar,” Max growled, and Billy stared around at the faces gathered around his bed, opened his mouth, cocked his head, and closed his mouth again.  “And I can’t hear you anyway, you’re fucking dead, shut up.”

“I’m so glad you’re not really dead,” Steve sniffled into Billy’s chest, reeking of tequila.  He rolled to flop an arm over Billy’s stomach and elbowed him in the gut, and Billy oof’d, and then put his splinted hand around his boyfriend, and leaned to kiss his hair.  “Love you,” Steve mumbled, into Billy’s chest.  “Don’t be dead.  I miss you,” he gulped.  “I miss you so much.”

“I’m not dead,” Billy said, for like the nine-hundredth time.

“Look at him,” Max pointed to Steve.  “Look what you did.”

Billy laughed harder, grimacing.  “I just jammed my finger!  I didn’t die!  I definitely didn’t die of any gross sex crimes without you, babe,” he whispered into Steve’s hair, and Steve harrumphed.

“Damn straight,” he mumbled.  “No sex crimes without me.  Love you.”

“Gross, this is a sex crime, my eyes are suffering, oh my god,” Max groaned.

“We’re all suffering, Billy,” Nancy said, finally, putting her hands on her hips.  “How dare you drive yourself to the hospital with a broken finger and not call anyone for nine hours and then drive yourself home—”

“It’s not my fault they got the records mixed up!” Billy yelled again, laughing, and squeezing Steve gently.  “I thought Steve was asleep!  Look, I just jammed my finger and it swelled up, I didn’t wanna wake anybody—” Billy grimaced.

“How’d that happen,” El asked, frowning at his splinted hand, and Billy groaned.  

“I...uh,” he grimaced, reluctant to admit he’d nearly died of what Max would definitely consider a gross sex crime—showering the jizz off himself after Steve fell asleep, he’d had a little jerk-off session remembering how good the night had been, gotten lightheaded as the blood rushed to his dick, and fallen in the shower.  He cleared his throat, grimacing, and felt his face redden further.  “I fell in the shower,” he said, sniffing as though Robin’s snickering was unfounded.

“You gross sex criminal,” Max hissed.  “How dare you almost die of sex crimes—”

“You have people who care,” Nancy yelled, wiping her eyes.  They’d all been crying, Billy registered, again.  It didn’t seem any more believable than an hour ago, when he’d gotten home from the hospital, crept in from the garage so as not to wake Steve, and everyone had screamed, running towards him.  Lucas Sinclair and Max had shaken him until his teeth rattled, both crying, and Nancy Wheeler had hugged him until his back cracked, taking ragged breaths into his shoulder.  Steve hadn’t let go of him since.

Erica had tried to get Billy to lie down with his arms crossed on the coffee table, like a vampire, but he’d rolled his eyes and hauled Steve—and the crowd of crying drunks—upstairs.

Billy was pretty sure he was having a really weird dream.  

“You can ask for help next time,” Nancy said, pointing at him, and rubbing her runny nose.  She flailed a hand behind her, and Robin handed her a kleenex.  “Wake your boyfriend up!  Call me!”

“Yeah, shut up and take your punishment,” Erica Sinclair sighed.  “You turned them into this, now lie the fuck down, you stupid corpse.”

Billy did so, sighing, but he left his arm sticking out to stroke Steve’s hair.  “‘M not dead,” he muttered.

“We gather here to celebrate the life of one Billy Hargrove,” Max said again, “—my brother, who is annoying as shit, and I’m really pissed at him,” she said, her voice shaking, “—b-because I thought he died tonight.”

“Guys,” Billy mumbled, his eyes stinging, now, and she kicked his thigh.

“Shut up.  I had to make Lucas drive me over here,” she said, sniffling, and clearing her throat, “—because I kept letting the clutch out and killing the engine, and all I could think was my brother’s goddamn ghost voice saying ‘—clutch, Max.  Don’t murder my car, Max,’ and then I thought I-I’ll never have to take his shit again—” she covered her mouth, shutting her eyes tight on a strangled noise, and Billy peered wide-eyed at her over the edge of the sheet.  “—and I missed you,” she choked out, and Billy tried to scramble up, but she kicked him in the leg again, bruising, by now, he was fairly sure.  

“Stay there,” she hissed.  “I pulled a sweatshirt of yours on on the way and smelled your stank and I thought—I thought I’ll never smell it again, I’ll have to just—just curl up in this, it’s the last time I’ll smell your shitty cologne—”

“It’s nice cologne,” Steve mumbled.

She stomped forward to kick Billy again, choking back a sob, and Lucas grabbed her around the waist, holding her back.  

“Glad you’re okay, man,” he said, and Billy nodded, relieved, but Erica raised her hand.  

“Foul,” she said.  “This is a wake.”

“Okay, okay,” Lucas said, obviously thinking.  “Thanks for...getting better,” he said, grimacing.  “You...you went from just being Max’s scary brother to saving one of my best friends,” he said, then paused, biting his lips together.  “I’m glad you’re my brother too,” he said, shrugging a shoulder, and Billy groaned and made a face at him, knowing Lucas Sinclair was probably the only person as embarrassed by this situation as he was.  Lucas grimaced back over Max’s head, but grinned.

 After a long pause next to the bed, Will said “I’m so glad you’re not dead,” so shakily even Erica didn’t try and make him keep talking, and then El broke the rules of the fake funeral, and just hugged Billy.

Billy tried not to die of embarrassment as Nancy talked, long and sincerely, about how happy he made Steve, and Steve nodded against his side, occasionally raising his arm with a thumb up.  

“S’all true,” he mumbled.

Robin waved Max and Erica off when they tried to get her to talk, smiling.  She wiped her eyes too.  “I’m just glad I don’t have to call everyone and tell them another gay dude died,” she said, a little bitterly.  “Everybody asks about you.”  Her eyes filled with tears, though, and Billy felt a pang of guilt for scaring her.

Dustin hauled off with a whole best man speech at that point, all about how annoying Steve was when they’d first started fucking, and Billy thought he might melt away at the news Steve had liked him so soon.  Dustin, the little shit, knew exactly what he was doing.  “He kept saying ‘I never want him to leave’,” Dustin said, just dropping that bomb with a sly grin.  “Like, ‘Is that weird?  Am I crazy?  I never want him to leave.’”

“Oh my god,” Billy mumbled.

“S’true,” Steve sighed.

“I am conditionally glad you’re alive,” Erica said, and Dustin started cackling, “—because of the way the hospital told Steve you died.  I was really looking forward to telling everybody,” she said, sighing.

“Wait, what the fuck did they tell you,” Billy asked, yanking the sheet off his face again.  

“And then I remembered I’d lose my quiz night teammate,” Erica said, crossing her arms.  

“Said I c’d do it,” Steve slurred.  “Said—”

“Fucking hell fucking no, Steve,” Erica said calmly.  “Billy told me about when you got the ‘who was president during the first gay marriage’ question—”

“ABE LINCOLN!” Steve yelled, again, and Billy groaned, cackling, as Max snorted loudly.  

“...hun,” Billy said, and Steve shook his head, pushing himself up to frown back woozily.

“All...men...created...equal,” he enunciated carefully.  “Abe Lincoln.”

“I mean, to be fair, that shoulda handled it,” Robin pointed out, and Steve gave her two fingerguns.  

“I’ll stay alive and be your bar quiz partner,” Billy told Erica, crossing his heart, and she narrowed her eyes.

“Good, because your man there doesn’t believe in narwhals,” she said, and Steve groaned.

“Stop lying to me about narwhals,” he mumbled.  “I’ve been to the zoo.  Din’t see any...unicorn...whales.”

“They don’t keep them in cages, babe, they’re still whales,” Billy told him, and got a hard prod.  

“He’s a conspiracy theorist,” Steve mumbled sadly.  “Came back from the dead to lie to me about narwhals.”

“I didn’t die, babe,” Billy told him, leaning in for a tequila-flavored kiss.  

“I couldn’t wait to tell the whole dorm a guy I knew shoved a lightbulb up his ass and electrocuted himself over Spring Break,” Erica said, sighing wistfully, and Nancy and Robin started laughing so hard they leaned in to each other.  Billy shot upright in bed, dumping Steve off his shoulder, and nearly clonking skulls with El.

“I’m sorry, they said what,” he said flatly.  “You guys really believed I stuck a lightbulb up my ass and electrocuted myself?  How fucking stupid do you think I am?!”

“You have me,” Steve mumbled, sniffling and reaching for the Tequila, and Dustin snatched it away.

“Oh, no, buddy, you don’t need any more of that,” he said, and Billy nodded.  

“You don’t need to put a lamp up your ass,” Steve mumbled into Billy’s thigh, sniffling, as Billy laughed helplessly.  “You have me, babe—don’t cheat with a lamp.” 

“Yeah, sweetie,” Billy said, yanking him into a tight hug.  “Fuck heaven, right?  Never gonna leave.”

 Here are my other Harringrove April prompts!

#Harringrove #Harringrove April #Billy's not dead #I promise #He's getting kinda mad about it actually #GUYS I AM NOT DEAD

[hawkinsindiana]

i should go

ALMOST PARADISE: PART TWO - CHAPTER FOURTEEN OF FIFTEEN

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader

word count: 2.5k

a/n: these are scary and confusing times. so here ya go. i hope everyone’s staying safe and healthy, i love you all <3

masterlist

You don’t know why you thought things were going to get better. You should’ve known better; you’ve never been able to catch a break, even before all of this happened.

The dreams have been getting worse, and more frequent; now, they’re about the kids too. You’ll be back in those tunnels, the ones crawling with vines, and their voices will bounce against the walls. They’re calling out, desperately crying for you to help them, but they’re never found. 

It feels like you run in circles for hours on end, throat going hoarse from screaming their names until you wake, pebbles of sweat dripping from your brow and body frozen in terror. 

Those seem to scare you more - the ones about them. Because it’s your duty to protect them, and you’ve come so close to failing so many times. 

Those ones never let you sleep; you’re left to lie there until morning, fear bubbling inside that something’s happened while you were asleep, thinking they’re gone now and there’s nothing you could’ve done.

Your brother hears it every time. When your careful footsteps approach his door at those ungodly hours, and the door creaks open just a touch so you can quiet your restless mind; Dustin’s always there, safe and sound underneath the sheets, Tews tucked against his feet.

You’ve done that six times now - he figures he should ask what that’s about. Maybe he’ll bring it up to Steve, see if the older boy knows anything. 

But with the town buzzing with holiday cheer, they’ve barely seen you around. Extra shifts at Radio Shack have filled your schedule as the people of Hawkins flock downtown for gifts, especially now that Bob’s no longer there for his usual hours. 

Dustin thinks you should take a break while you’re off from school. He can tell that it’s exhausting when you come home and don’t have the energy to return Steve’s call, but you always have the same answer:

“I need to keep myself busy anyways.”

And Steve - he understands the circumstances. But that doesn’t make it hurt less when Dustin has to deflect and apologize on your behalf.

God, you hope it’s not too much on him-

Your mother snaps you from your trance, tapping the phone against your arm before placing it in your hand, “It’s for you.”

You hadn’t even heard it ring. You don’t know how long you’ve been standing here, shoulder pressed to the wall and eyes focused on the evening news.

You answer it with a sigh, “Yeah?” A perky voice flows easily through the receiver, unfazed by your delivery.

“Hey, it’s Stacy, from the dance committee? We’ve got an emergency over here.”

Mike and Lucas thought it might be a good idea for you to help organize and plan the Snow Ball. Since the group of middle schoolers would be attending this year, they wanted your help to ensure that it was the best one thrown yet. You weren’t so keen on the idea, until you remembered how lame it was a few years back when you went.

“I don’t have to come down there, do I? I thought we took care of everything last night.”

The girl nervously laughs on the other end; you can hear the music from the gym echoing in the room. It almost makes it hard to listen.

“Turns out we need three more bottles of soda. Simon only got five. Since you’re the only one with a car-”

“Yeah, of course,” You interrupt, “I’ll grab some and bring it over. Be there in a jif.”

After ending the call, you grab your cash off the counter on your way to the bathroom. 

“Hey Dustin, I gotta bolt. Can you find-” 

You’re greeted with the sight of your brother, putting the finishing touches on his look for the night - a can of Farrah Fawcett hairspray in one hand. You can’t help the laugh that bursts from you. 

“What, Mom buy you that?”

His head snaps to you in an instant, cheeks turning bright red as you lean your weight against the doorframe. The product’s out of sight immediately afterwards, quickly shoved behind his back, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Dustin swallows harshly at your squinting eyes, arms folding over your chest as you study him. You decide not to ask.

“Uh huh.”

A few tense, silent moments pass as he waits for you to comment further; he hates that smirk on your face, “Did you, uh, need something?”

You clear your throat, shifting on your feet before replying, “Yeah I gotta get to the school now, can you find another ride? Maybe Mrs. Wheeler can come take you?”

Dustin’s expression grows confused, “What are you talking about? I already have a ride.”

Your brow raises in surprise, “You do.”

He shrugs, “Yeah, Steve’s takin’ me.”

And then it clicks; your grin grows. 

“Oh… okay. I’ll see you afterwards then,” You go to grab the door on your way out, but not before adding something else with a wink.

“Don’t worry,” You say, “I won’t tell anyone. And keep this open a touch, yeah? I’d hate for you to suffocate on the fumes.”

—

The gym’s loud and filled with prepubescent teenagers. You can’t wait to get out of here, back to the comforting security of your home.

That feeling intensifies when you lock eyes with who’s standing behind the punch bowl; you already feel yourself retracting inwards before a conversation even begins.

“I didn’t realize you were coming tonight,” Nancy speaks first, letting a small smile spread over her face as you approach the beverage station. 

She seems so much lighter, so much happier since you last saw her. You’re glad that she’s been able to finally move on, even if it is at Steve’s expense. Nobody deserves to be trapped in a relationship they don’t want to be in; you can’t blame her for that. You just wish it hadn’t happened the way it did.

“Oh, I’m not,” You answer, gesturing to the liters of soda you carry in your arms; they’ve started to grow tired from the weight, “I’m just dropping these off.”

Nancy’s expression drops a touch as you place the bottles on the bleachers behind her, “I figured you’d be bringing your brother.”

You brush the condensation off onto your jeans, “No, uh, Steve did that already.”

Confusion is evident as she grows speechless, turning back to face you; the expression she has on her face is enough to explain her emotions - that doesn’t seem like something he’d do.

You laugh at her, “Yeah, I know. Trust me, no one’s more shocked than I am.”

Nancy shakes her head in awe as your back straightens, and she chews on her lip as she debates bringing it up. She decides to.

“Remember when we came to this thing?”

Your eyes move to see her, leaning back against the table, knuckles turning white as she grips the edge. A scoff escapes your mouth as you nod, “How could I forget? Jimmy Hawthorne spilled punch all over my dress twenty minutes in.”

Nancy laughs at the memory, remembering the priceless look on his face as you threatened him, right in the middle of the dance floor, “God, it took my mom all night to get that stain out.”

The silence between you that follows her comment isn’t… uncomfortable. If anything, it’s another step in the right direction. But you still chose to retreat; it’s almost too much, seeing her look at you like that again.

“I guess I’ll see you around, Nance,” You mutter before moving past her, jingling the car keys in between your fingers. All she musters back in response is a wave as she’s swarmed by an incoming gaggle of girls.

The cold air invigorates you as you exit the school building; you don’t know how much longer you could’ve been cooped up in there, surrounded by all the memories. And as you’re making your way to your mother’s car, that’s when you spot him.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” You raise your voice while you approach, arms crossing over your chest. Steve’s attention is brought up to see you, walking across the parking lot, a lazy smile growing over your rosy cheeks.

“I could ask you the same thing, Henderson,” The corner of Steve’s mouth quirks up as your brow raises at his response, “I asked you first.”

He sighs before running the hem of his sweater between his fingers, “Oh, I figured I should stick around just in case. You never know...”

You snort lightly after Steve allows his sentence to trail off, “Jesus, you’re starting to sound like me. I’m supposed to be the protective one.”

“There are worse things to be,” Steve’s focus is gentle as he watches you come to his side; he’s appreciating every single little detail about this moment. 

The snow is just right - there’s enough of it to create a picturesque scene around you. The muffled love ballads that echo from the school make him feel warm in his chest - he thinks about you when he hears them. The streetlights illuminate your face enough for him to notice when the bridge of your nose scrunches at his words, “Aw, I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“The kids,” You nudge Steve before your gaze drifts to him; your heart skips when you catch him already peering your way, “They’re making you soft, Steven.”

Steve’s grin spreads wider as your laugh fills the space between, rolling his eyes as he falsely acts annoyed by your observation, “Great, just what I need.”

“Oh, also,” Your tone makes him meet your mischievous look, and it ignites a bit of anxiety in him, “Farrah Fawcett, really? You thought I wouldn’t figure that one out?”

Steve grows shocked by your deduction in record time, further spurring on your joy; it almost counter-balances his embarrassment.

“Relax, your secret’s safe with me,” You say, and Steve just shakes his head, “You and your brother are so dead if anyone finds out.”

You bring your fingers to your lips, faking to lock them before throwing the invisible key over your shoulder. And then it hits him - he hasn’t seen you since that night, after the funeral. That night where you almost kissed him.

”Why aren’t you in your car?” 

Your words catch him off guard, and he simply shrugs in response, “The snow’s nice, dontcha think?”

“I guess, but Christ, aren’t you cold?” You ask Steve as you shiver and pull your hooded sweatshirt tighter against your frame. 

He inhales before going to answer, but he decides that his words aren’t enough. His arm gets extended outwards before he gestures for you to move closer, “Come on, get over here.”

You feel your heart beat in your throat as a misty breath expels itself from you and into the night sky. It’s almost like the air gets thicker the closer you get to Steve, but you can’t stop yourself from tucking your body into his side. 

His arm drapes heavily over your shoulder as soon as you’ve settled, and you decide to pull him closer with the limb that would’ve gotten trapped between you. Steve emits a light laugh at the feeling of your arm wrapping around his middle, tugging him in further; you both relish in the heat that emanates from the other.

A few silent moments pass - neither of you has the courage to comment, even though both of your minds are running wild with what to say. 

Steve shifts beside you, adjusting his feet against the parking lot pavement. The action prompts you to spin your focus in his direction and you freeze as he does the same - his eyes landing on your gentle expression.

Seeing Steve look at you like that makes you feel like you’re floating - the admiration in his eyes is enough to silence any doubts you had about… well, whatever this is. Your heart thuds against your ribs when he somehow inches even closer and you tighten your hold on him after he does so, hand curling around the material of his sweater. 

You want to pull your gaze away from him, because fuck it’s getting to be too much; the way he feels by you side, the way you slid into him to protect yourself from the chilly December evening, the way that neither of you can find any words to describe how you’re feeling.

But then it clicks inside your brains. And maybe, you think, nothing needs to be said at all.

You lean in first, and it doesn’t take Steve much longer to react and do the same. He grows surprised when you pause, mere millimeters away from meeting your lips, brow creasing as your nose brushes his.

Even though you’ve been craving this very moment for about a year, you can’t shake the thought that hovers like a cloud over your psyche. This changes everything. There’s no going back if you continue down this road - it almost makes you afraid, no matter how much you’ve wanted things to be different.

It dissipates quickly, as Steve doesn’t give you much time to ponder; he takes the leap. His lips are pressed to yours. And it’s just like the first time you fell for him - every doubt you’ve ever had about Steve vanishes instantly. 

The kiss is so soft and so filled with emotion that you feel like you could cry. His presence is overwhelming your senses and you melt against his palm that slides up your jaw, past where the bruises faded. 

You can’t process when your fingers begin to card through his hair, pulling him closer to you because you’re desperate to let him feel everything that’s been churning inside for over a year. You’re still so in love with him that when he finally pulls away, you feel like he took a piece of you with him.

The music starts to fade and your little bubble along with it; you struggle to find something to say. 

You don’t know how long you’ve waited to be able to do that. None of your daydreams could have ever compared to this; you’re almost lost in the moment. All of that heartache, all of that pain - it’s finally been released.

Neither of you knows what to do.

But then Steve clears his throat, his thoughts jumbled inside his head because holy shit - he wasn’t expecting it to feel like that. 

The silence afterwards is deafening. Your breaths fan against the other’s rose tinted cheeks, still barely inches apart. 

“I should uh,” You mutter, fingers trailing down his arms, slowly pulling yourself away from his warmth. You’re suddenly overwhelmed with far too many emotions, all of which you can’t even begin to decipher while standing here in front of him. 

Steve grips your hands in his as you lean back; he knows what you’re going to say, but God, he wishes that you didn’t have to.

“I should go,” You finish. It shatters his heart a bit to hear you say it, but he only nods. 

“Yeah,” He manages, “I’m sure your mom wants you back.”

You swallow harshly before your touch leaves him completely. Steve can still feel where your fingers were pressed on his palms - it lingers as you turn to leave, and begin your walk to your car.

—

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#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #st fic #st imagine #my gif #my writing #almost paradise

[stevenismyboy]

The Haunted Arcade.

a/n: Maybe I shouldn't start another au when I haven't finished the first one... but the temptation was too strong! I am very happy with how it turned out and that I managed to move my favorite cartoon to the  Stranger Things world. I’ve also made teenagers here not too fond of each other, but without exaggeration, just for the sake of history. Feel free to write me if you liked it and who do you think is a specific member of the Mystery Inc.!

summary: Scooby-Doo au!- When an arcade in Hawkins is attacked by a ghost in a mask, nobody believes and wants to help the terrified Y/N. No one except Steve 'The Hair' Harrington, smart Robin, photographer Jonathan and beautiful Nancy. They definitely know something about monsters. You can find my Masterlist here.

-

Fridays were crazy. No matter how much time was left to close the arcade-it could be twenty, ten or even five minutes-and people still wouldn't want to go home. They pressed the buttons on the slot machines with incredible speed, unable to stop until they had a score that would satisfy them.

So yes, Fridays have been crazy. The gaming room was so overcrowded that the kids waited in line to play their favorite game. Working there was pretty funny. Looking at kids who were running through the room like puppies always made you happy. On Fridays, children were not so happy though because big, rude and older teenagers occupied their favourite play area.

On that cool, spooky evening, when the wind outside made terrible sounds, the room was full of people until the very end. Steve Harrington came as every week with Robin Buckley. They were standing by the Dig Dug, which Dustin Henderson was looking forward to. Nancy Wheeler came in with her boyfriend, Jonathan Byers. She was completely unable to handle Pac Man. She had been coming here for a while and Jonathan patiently tried to teach her. Their brothers, Will and Mike were trying to hide their laughter.

You looked at the watch over your head, watching as the blue hand was dangerously close to 11:00 p.m. Five... four... three... two... one... game over.

“I'm very sorry, but we're closing for today!” you shouted, clapping your hands. The music stopped playing. Keith turned on the regular lights instead of the colored ones, which kept the room in dark glow. Everyone moaned loudly, not wanting to leave yet. “I'm really sorry, but you're all welcome tomorrow! Let's give our hands and eyes a rest for today and be ready to play next time, am I right?”

“Son of a bitch. I didn't get to play the Dig Dug” Claudia Henderson's kid walked out without saying goodbye. You laughed quietly, holding the glass door for outgoing customers. “She beat me again. I feel like loser” Lucas Sinclair pointed out his red-haired, proud girlfriend.

“It'll be better next time. If you're gonna practice!” you yelled after him. “We both know he'll never be able to beat my record” Max snapped. “I wanted to be nice” you said so quietly that only she would hear you. She laughed and gived you a high five. The crowd was going out, talking to each other. Steve tried to squeeze ahead to catch up with Dustin, but he stayed to finally accompany Robin.

“Good night, Y/N. I'll see you tomorrow, I hope?” Steve asked, going to the exit. His dark eyes were shining in a sharp light. He was always nice when he came and paid for the tickets for himself and his friend. They've been coming here regularly since Dustin brought them here. Always in his company.

“Could you make sure that Henderson gets to Dig Dug first tomorrow? That big boy didn't even let him play once” Robin stabbed Steve hard in the back with her index finger. “I'll do my best. But you know the rule, Buckley. A favor for the tip”. “How could I forget. See you tomorrow!” the girl smiled. Will Byers sneaked under your shoulder, running out with Mike so fast that the door almost slammed in your face. “Sorry. Sometimes they can be too excited” Jonathan smiled shyly. Nancy was trying to put a coat next to the door, then they both went outside, where it was completely dark. The lights of the lanterns highlighted the wet asphalt. It rained for a good two hours, the air was crisp and fresh.

“You're sure you can handle it yourself? I can wait until you close the place” Keith crushed a pack of cheese crisps in his hands. The crumbs fell on the carpet you're about to clean. That's what working with Keith was like. He wanted to help when he was just making things worse. You sent him a forced smile, shaking your head. “I'll be fine. I'm gonna do some cleaning and I'll walk home. I'm a big girl”.

“Brave enough of you. I'd be scared if I were you. Hawkins is not safe... especially at night” Keith muttered, closing the glass door behind him. His words made you shiver. He didn't say anything unusual, but... but maybe if it was a little brighter outside, you wouldn't have to be afraid that coming home alone might not end well. Just in case you turned the key in the lock to make yourself feel safer.

You grabbed a broom to clean the floor from crips, popcorn and cookies. In normal light you could see the dried spots of spilled coke in some places. Keith unnecessarily scared you. You're alone, but you're safe. Just turn the key on the door so no one gets in and-

Something sneaked in between the slot machines. Someone's shadow, too fast to look at it or recognize the shape. You stopped sweeping so that the broomstick wouldn't drown out anything... or anyone else in the room.

“Hello? Is there someone here?” you asked loudly, swallowing your saliva too loud. The wind outside was trying to get in, it was bumping into the glass panes, shrieking too loud. There's no way anyone could stay inside. The kids repeatedly wanted to hide here to spend the night in their dream place, but they never succeeded. And again. Something went behind your back and you turned around so fast that your neck started hurting. Whoever was inside hit a row of vending machines with their shoulder now, and they started knocking terribly at each other. “Who's here? Come on... this is not funny at all!”

The lights went out. Well, actually, they only went out for a while to light up again. Someone was trying to change their color, so the whole rainbow was flickering before your eyes. “Keith, I swear to God, if this is just some stupid joke...” you let go of the broom, running to the counter to call somebody, anybody when the music started playing in the room. But not one you had on the tapes. A terrible rasp of the violin combined with a scream. You stumbled on the carpet and leaned your back against the counter, covering your ears with your hands. You clenched your eyelids tightly, trying not to scream. Your heart was pounding on your chest, and there was no one around to help you. The lights kept changing their colour, someone's loud steps were breaking through the music. For a moment... for one short moment you could swear that you felt someone's hot breath, heavy sigh on your neck. Your eyes started tearing.

And all of a sudden, everything went quiet. The lights stopped flickering, the music went off. It seemed like there was no one inside again, and the only sound you could hear was a whistle of wind. You put your hands on your knees, looking around for a few more minutes. And then you called the police.

-

“I don't know which way he came in. I was alone, and... I can swear I shut myself in to finish cleaning up. All the customers had already left and my coworker did it too like... half an hour ago”.

“I see” it was the only thing Hopper said after your statement. The notebook was trembling in his hand, he was holding a lit cigarette in the other. He dragged a lot of smoke inside his lungs, nodding his head at two officers coming out of the arcade. “You got anything, guys?”

“It looks like nothing's gone. There's no shortage of money in the cash register" said the first one. “Nothing's broken. No machine, the windows are all right too” said the other. “Some signs of a burglary? Footprints, broken lock on the door?Anything?” Hopper asked. They both turned their heads. Sheriff turned to you with a sigh. He rested his hands on his knees and leaned over to be about your height. 

“Listen. It's really late. I understand you might be tired. It happens. Sometimes I see my own grandmother when I'm sitting at the police station until two o'clock in the morning and I don't drink coffee, and it's just Flo who insists on watching over me and the boys all night. We'll take you home and forget about the case, okay?” “Forget it?” you asked in disbelief. The policeman blinked. A cigarette trembled in his mouth. “Someone was there! I didn't make it up! I know what the threat is to call the police for no reason. I wouldn't call if nothing had happened. And something definitely happened. Maybe it wasn't a burglary, maybe...”

“Maybe your coworker forgot his car keys, went back to the arcade, came through the back, took them and left. Could that be?” Hopper raised one eyebrow. The annoyance took in you like a wild wave. One more minute, and it'll flood you completely.

“I was scared. What if that someone comes back here again? Aren't you going to do anything about it?” “I would if I had the evidence. But I don't see them. I'm sorry, kid”. “Don't call me that” you clenched your teeth. “You won't even call my boss?” “I don't see a reason. We'll just scare him off. You need sleep and rest. Take the day off tomorrow. You'll sleep everything off and you'll see that you'll stop seeing ghosts”. “What about the lights?” you asked. Hopper stopped on the way to his van. He threw out a cigarette and trampled it with his shoe. His mind was definitely somewhere else. 

“I'll take care of it myself. I'm an electrician-slutter specialist" he opened the door to his police car. His two officers were already waiting in their own. “So what's it gonna be? Are you coming with us?”

“I still don't understand why you don't believe me, Hopper” you muttered, looking at the road. “For you, it's Chief Hopper, kid. Are you coming or not?” he opened the door wide. The inside smelled like coffee and cigarettes, but it looked a lot better than the prospect of walking all the way home alone. You got in without a word more, pressing your forehead against the glass. Day off. Sounds wonderful.

-

The boss didn't find out about anything. Nobody at home noticed that the sheriff of Hawkins Police picked you up after work and you had no one to tell about the adventure of yesterday. It was a necessity to go to work. Your heart was beating like crazy when you crossed the arcade. You were sick just of thinking you had to sit in the same place as yesterday, look at the same room... where you weren't alone last night.

Steve noticed immediately that something was wrong. When he saw you the other day, you were smiling at every customer, helping to start a game, or cleaning screens of unused machines. Today, you didn't even move. It's like you're glued to your chair. He looked at you with curiosity, waiting for any sign that there was nothing to worry about. For a smile, a head up, a joke aimed at the kids. Nothing.

“You'd come to work if you were sick?” he asked suddenly, biting a straw from his drink. “Of course not. I'm not suicidal” Robin snorted. She put her tongue out, in the corner of her mouth, as if it would improve her dexterity. She squinted her eyes at Donkey Kong's character. “Why?” “Y/N seems to be some kind of... absent” he shrugged his shoulder. “I don't like it.”

“I don't want to be mean, dingus, but you weren't optimistic when you came to work either”. “I know, but... I don't think that's the point. Something must have happened-” “Why don't you come up and ask her? I see you want to” his friend touched his arm. Steve put his hand on his hip and twisted his head after a moment of silence. “I doubt she likes to confide in random customers”. “You're unbelievable. You want to ask how she feels, you don't invite her on a date. Unless that's what you mean and that's why you're so nervous about it-” Robin wanted to say something more, but she didn't have a chance. Nancy and Jonathan were passing by and Steve's ex-girlfriend ran into his friend. A little bit of her orange juice landed on Robin's shirt. Steve took in the air with a swish.

“Oh, my God, I'm so sorry” Nancy put her hand in her mouth. She tried to look for the tissues in her purse to help. “Sometimes it can be so crowded here...”

“No worries. It was just my favorite shirt” Robin shrugged her shoulders. “She said she's sorry. You can wash it” Jonathan said. He probably didn't mean anything by it, but Steve involuntarily clenched his jaw. It's in the same way for a while now. Steve hold a grudge for Jonathan, so he's rude to him. Robin doesn't really like Nancy, so even if she's trying, sometimes her reluctance comes out. And they start arguing. He couldn't explain why it's happening every time when they bump into each other. Why he still can't leave his past behind and argue with someone who used to be the most important person in the world to him? He couldn't explain why it's happening. But it happened. More than once.

“You don't have to be nervous, man. Nobody wanted to say something bad” Steve replied calmly. “I doubt it. I don't know what else to do to stop Miss Buckley getting angry” Nancy tangled her hands up on her chest. Max and El turned to them for a moment, but they stopped eavesdropping when they saw the fight was going on between the same people as usual. 

“I'm just going to start” Robin smiled at her, wanting to take a step towards her. Steve held her hand, seeing you rise up and he whined. He didn't want to cause you any trouble. Not today, for sure. Even though he stopped Robin, you've already gotta get to them.

“I don't want to intrude, but... kids are looking at you, guys. You can't yell at each other inside. If you have something to explain to each other, please do it in the parking lot” Steve nodded his head, feeling like he was about to apologize to a teacher in grade school. Jonathan clenched his mouth in a narrow line.

“I'm calm. But someone's nervous” Nancy said, pulling Jonathan away. “You heard that?” Robin squealed outraged, trying to get back in the game. “Damn it...” “You're gonna fight again?” Dustin asked, raising his eyes from over his game. “Dustin!” you all shouted at once to silence him. You breathed deeply.

“I'm sorry, but if you can't calm down, you really-” you stopped when the light was flashing over you. Normally, it wouldn't be a big deal. But not after last night. The lights started to change color, somebody was scrolling through the tape on the equipment, so the speakers were still scrolling through the same song. And suddenly the kids started screaming.

A tall figure jumped on two slot machines, miraculously maintaining balance on them. The guy's face- because it certainly wasn't the figure of a woman- was behind a ghostly mask, made of glued together cables and electric wires that shone in the glow of colored lights in the game room. Steve experienced too much in his life to believe that anything that now was on slot machines could be a monster, but when he looked at the man in the mask the only word that came to his mind was: a ghost.

Frightened children ran to the back of the arcade where they felt safe, that is, with you. Together with Nancy, Robin, Steve and Jonathan, you tried to take as many of them as you could so that no one would get hurt. The Phantom standing above you was dressed in a cape that shone in all the colors of Pac Man's evil ghosts. The figure turned to all the gathered, looking at you with empty, dark eyes.

“If you don't leave this place within a week... I will make sure that every person present in this room meets a terrible fate” he said with a rough, unpleasant voice. Your pulse accelerated to such an extent that you were afraid your heart would jump out of your chest when a light bulb broke just above your head.

“Watch your heads!” Steve yelled and the kids covered themselves with their hands when all the light bulbs in the room started to crack, plunging you all into total darkness. One of the kids started to cry. You heard another crack and dared to open your eyes. The windshield of the place splashed into a tiny poppy. Three gaming machines were lying on the ground, the cables they were plugged into were cut. All of this was done just in a few seconds. You looked at Steve, who was breathing deeply, not knowing what to say, what to do to calm down after what had just happened.

“Jinkies” Robin muttered quietly, being the only one who dared to speak.

Taglist: @mochminnie​ @queen1054​ @krazykatkay456​ @ghostineleven​ @sydzygy​ @the-almond-dinger​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​

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[idumpyourgrass]

Always Waiting- Chapter Thirteen

Always Waiting- Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

(I do not own gif!)

Always Waiting Masterlist

Summary: There’s some weird tension between Steve and Y/n, The plan is set into action, Y/n blurts out something crazy

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

A/n: Tea is spilt in this chapter!! I’m so excited! We are nearing the end of this book, maybe 3-4 more chapters? But don’t worry, I’m already planning my next one! I hope you like this chapter! As always lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

Warnings: Swearing, mention of guns, typos ofc

Word Count: 1.8k

“That keycard opens up the door,” Dustin explains, “but unfortunately, the person who has that keycard also has a massive gun.” He looks up at all of you.

“Whatever’s in those boxes, in that room, they really don’t want anyone to know about it.”

You groan hopping off the counter and moving towards the table, “there’s got to be a way in.”

“Well you know…” Steve starts, glancing up at you, “I could just take them out.”

You cross your arms, raising your eyebrows, “Take who out?”

“The Russian guard.” He looks around the room receiving unconvinced looks from you, Dustin and Robin. “What? I sneak up behind him, knock him out, and grab his keycard. It’s easy.”

You drag your hands down your face, “Oh my god.”

“Did you not hear the part about the massive guns?”

“Yeah, Dustin, I did. That’s why I’d be sneaking,” He moved his two fingers across the table.

“Oh!” You exasperated, throwing your hands up in disbelief.

“Steve, tell me, and be honest, have you ever actually won a fight?” Dustin asks.

“That was one time,”

“Twice actually, Jonathan, year prior?” You pointed out, “I witnessed you get the shit kicked out of you twice.”

“Who was the one who got knocked out last year? Oh wait that was you.” Steve pointed a finger towards you.

“I had to step in because you were getting your ass beat! What was I supposed to do? Just stand around and watch?” You took a step towards him.

“I had everything under control! Until you decided to try to be a hero or whatever.” He took a step towards you.

“Trying to be a hero? I was trying to help you!” Your voice was getting louder and louder and so was his.

“Yeah? Well I don’t need your help!”

“That’s funny cause it sure did look like it when he smashed that fucking plate over your head!” You and Steve both took a pause, trying to catch your breath. You looked up at Steve and realized how close you were, noses almost touching. You had completely forgotten Dustin and Robin were in the room until Dustin cleared his throat. Feeling the heat rise to your cheeks you quickly took a step back, keeping your eyes on the ground.

“That just might work,” Robin muttered running towards the tip jar, “What?” Robin reached in and grabbed all the money and took off running, “Robin! What are you doing?” You call after her, as you, Steve and Dustin run after her. “To find a way into the room, a safe way. And in the meantime, sling ice cream, and you and Steve behave!”

“Safe, I like that she said that. A safe way, one that won’t get us killed.” You shoot a glare towards Steve and head into the backroom.

*       *       *

“It’s amazing what 20 bucks will get you,” Robin rolls out blueprints for Starcourt mall, “At the county recorder’s office.” She takes out a pen and circles Scoops Ahoy, “This is us, Scoops,” she circles another part of the mall, “This is where we want to get.” You lean in, taking a closer look at the map. “I don’t really see a way in?” You observe.

“There’s not, unless you’re just thinking doors.”

“Airducts,” Dustin chimes in.

Robin nods then goes back to drawing on the map, making a line from Scoops to the door, “These airducts, lead all the way… here.”

You all four look up to the airduct.

“Who’s gonna take one for the team and climb through?” Steve asks pulling out the ladder.

“I can do it,” Dustin suggests. Steve unscrews the vent, “Yeah, man, I don’t think you can fit, it’s like super tight.”

“I can fit, no collar bones remember?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Robin snickered.

“Oh he has some disease, uhhhhh, chrydo…” Steve tries to remember the name.

“Cleidocranial dysostosis.” You correct him.

“Yeah, whatever, he can bend like gumbo.” He explains to Robin

“I think you mean Gumby,” You look up at Steve.

“No, it’s gumbo,” Steve argues.

“It’s most certainly not gumbo. It’s Gumby, with a Y.”

“Gumby? No it’s Gumbo.” You roll your eyes.

“Would you both just shut up? Steve push me.” Dustin yells from the vent. Steve gives Dustin a big push. While they are struggling to get Dustin in the vent, Erica Sinclair comes in for her daily samples. You look up at Steve and Dustin, then to Robin, who seems to have the same idea as you.

*     *     *

Steve slides a sundae for Erica onto the table.

“You see this?” Robin points to the map, “This is the route you’ll take. Then we just wait for the last delivery, then you’ll knock down the grate, hop down, open the door-“

“And then you’ll find out what’s in those boxes?” She looks at all four of you as you all nod. “And you say this guard is armed?”

“Yes, but he won’t be there,” you reassure her.

“You want my help? This USS Butterscotch better be the first of many, and I’m talking free Ice cream,” She locks eyes with you, “For life.”

*.      *.       *

The four of you waited on the mall’s roof for Erica.

“Are you nerds in position?” Erica asks over the walkie talkie.

“Yeah, we’re in position, you’ve got the green light,” you say.

“Green light, roger that. I’ll see you on the other side, nerds.”

You held your breath as you waited for Erica, hoping there wouldn’t be any guards you didn’t catch.

“I’m in,” Erica confirms.

“Oh, thank god,” you let out a shaky breath.

The door opens and Erica comes out, “Free ice cream. For life!” She yells.

You all make your way down to the loading dock and head through the door. Steve talks one of the boxes and opens it, steam rolls down the sides of the box, “Definitely not Chinese food,” Steve says.

“What is that?” You ask, looking down into the box.

“Maybe you guys should stand back,” Steve suggests. You, Erica, and Robin take a couple steps back.

“Dustin,” You try to grab his arm to move him back.

“Dustin get back,” Steve says, trying to push him.

“No! If you die, I die.”

Steve lifts up whatever was in the box to reveal a tube with some green liquid in it.

“What the hell?�� You ask getting a closer look.

“What is that?” Erica asks.

You start to hear a rumbling noise, “Guys…?” The room starts to shake.

“Was that just me, or did the room move?” Dustin asks.

“Boobytraps,” Erica whispers.

“You know what? Let’s just grab that and go.” Robin takes the tube and you all head for the door, but before you can make it out, the door shuts.

Dustin rushes over to the panel of buttons and pushes the door open button, nothing happens. Uh oh.

“Uh, Erica, which one do I press?”

“Just push the damn button nerd!” Erica insists.

“Dustin just push the button, please!” You say, starting to panic.

Steve runs over and starts repeatedly pressing the button. Another set of doors close.

“Steve what did you do?” You yell.

“Nothing! I just pushed the button!”

The room shakes again and this time, it drops.

“Oh shit! We’re going down!” Steve yells.

“No shit Harrington!” You yell back.

Everyone starts screaming. You try to grab a hold of something in the state of panic. Steve reaches his hand out and without thinking you grab it, tight. You squeeze your eyes shut hoping the room will stop but it doesn’t, you fall for what feels like an eternity. Suddenly, the room stops, sending you all to the ground.

“Is everyone ok?” You groan, rubbing your head.

“Yeah, I’m great knowing that Russians can’t design elevators!” Steve shouts.

Dustin gets up and attempts to push the buttons again.

“I think we’ve established those buttons don’t work,” Erica says.

“They’re buttons, they have to do something.”

“Yeah, if we had a keycard,” You mumble, sitting up and leaning against the wall.

“What?” Dustin asks.

“The electronic keycard, same as the loading dock? We need it to get out.” You point to the key card scanner.

“Just so you nerds know, I’m supposed to be staying the night at Tina’s tonight, and Tina always covers for me but if I’m not at uncle Jack’s party tomorrow, my mom will hunt you down one by one and slit your throats.” Erica says.

Steve turns around, running his fingers through his hair, “I don’t care about Tina, or Uncle Jack’s party! Your mom won’t find us if we’re dead inside a Russian Elevator!” Steve snaps.

“Steve, knock it off,” you kick his leg with your foot.

“What if we climbed out?” Dustin points up towards the ceiling.

*     *     *

After discovering climbing out would be much harder than you thought, you all decided to sleep in shifts. You sat on top of the elevator lost in thought. You didn’t hear Steve come up and sit down right next to you.

“Hey,” he nudges your leg with his foot, “Whatcha thinking about?”

“Just thinking,” you say, staring off into space, “How do we always get ourselves into these situations?” You grinned, turning your head towards Steve. He looked right back at you.

“I have no idea, but I must say, we do make a pretty badass duo,” he smirked. He moved his gaze down to his feet, “I’m sorry for being such an asshole, I just, I just don’t know how to act around you.” He admits. “Like, I want to be friends, I do, but then I get scared that I’m going to lose you again, so I just think if I’m not friends I have nothing to lose, does that make sense?” He rambles. You just nod. A comfortable silence falls between you two. You sit up and turn to face Steve.

“You know what? Let’s make a promise. No matter what kind of shit gets thrown our way, we are not leaving each other’s lives again. We have gone through too much shit together to just throw away our whole relationship.”

“We have to pinky promise, or else you might break it,” Steve says holding out his pinky. You lock your pinkies.

“Unless I get killed by an evil Russian, I will keep my promise,” you say, leaning back against the wall.

“Hey what did I tell you? I’m not letting anything happen to either of you, or to Robin and Erica.”

“Oh yeah? When did you become such a badass?” You teased.

“When the sailor suit comes on, I’m a changed man,” Steve gestures down to his outfit.

This sends you into a fit of giggles. You turn and look at Steve, studying his side profile. He turns and smiles at you. You can’t stop yourself from blurting out.

“I love you,” Oh god no, you did not mean to say that. You clasp a hand over your mouth

Steve’s smile dropped, “W-what?” He stutters.

“You hide your face with your hands, “Oh my god why did I say that?”

“Y/n I-“

“I’m gonna go, uh, in the elevator, now, to check on everyone, Dustin,” You trip over your feet as you try to stand up.

You hop down into the elevator leaving Steve bewildered.

Jesus Christ why did you say that?

Taglist:

@loulouloueh​ @nighttwingg​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @labrujaprincess​ @welcomethefears​ @metuel18​ @polynesianmayo​ @readinthegarden12​ @alafolieee​ @yoheyyosup​ @loco-latte​ @daddystevee​ @hannarudick​ @gertenbert​ @70sgubler​ @used-avocado​ @ggclarissa​ @alonewolfsblog​ @phoebethepheebs​ @random-thoughts-003​ @red-2-0​ @m-blasterrr​ @blueberrylemontea-fanfic​

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things x reader #dustin henderson #robin buckley #erica sinclair #Lucas Sinclair #mike wheeler #Nancy Wheeler #jonathan byers #will byers #Joyce Byers #jim hopper #eleven

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Charming Man

Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 5, 618

Warnings: Cursing, Unwanted Male Advances

Author’s Note: I hit 2K!!! I had no idea I would ever get to such a milestone, much less in such a short amount of time! Thank you to everyone whose joined me on this tour of an ocean of flavor!

Tag List: @hotstuffhargrove @moonstruckhargrove @carolimedanvers @alex--awesome--22 @thechickvic @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @so-not-hotmess @agentsinstorybrooke @sunflowercandie @kaliforniacoastalteens @songforhema @spidey-pal @mickmoon

Steve Harrington was a nuisance. He didn’t know when to quit. If he asked you one more question about the stupid Wham! album, you were going to scream. But there you, with your big, fake smile that made the corners of your mouth hurt, nodding along to whatever Harrington was droning on about. You thought he was still contemplating the choice between the single and the whole record. He had made some comment about only needing the song Careless Whisper off the record and the salesgirl in you had tried to up sell him, suggesting buying the cassette and the single, to ensure that he didn’t need both. It was a terrible idea-singles were in essence, an awful to buy, but so was buying both the full cassette and the single, since it would cost twice as much than just buying the record. But you believed Harrington was just dumb enough to fall for the scheme. You’d gotten smarter boys to buy more than they needed. Last week, you’d been able to convince Keith to buy singles of a bunch of your favourite songs, purely because he was shamelessly trying to impress you. He failed to do so, but you might be getting a mix tape out of it, which wouldn’t be terrible. You collected mix tapes, especially mix tapes about broken hearts or first love. You planned to make an art installation with them, but for now they sat in a shoe box under your passenger seat.

“So, you think I should get the cassette and the single on record?” Steve asked, drawing you out of your thoughts. Your smile dropped slightly, trying to piece together what he was talking about.

You found it fast, nodding too enthusiastically “Yeah! I mean, between you and me, it’s a better deal...” you said, keeping your voice low as if it was a big secret what you were telling him.

“Is it?” Steve asked, crossing his arms over his chest, the record and tape still in hand, each poking out on either side of him. You stifled a yawn, nodding again. You’d been there since seven that morning and the mall was closing in an hour. You were beyond exhausted, but Tiffany Michaels called in sick, again, and so you had to cover again.

“Yeah!” you let your cheery tone fall away a bit, hoping the irritation slipping through would give him the hint to clear off. This interaction had been going on for a half hour now. It had started with him asking for record suggestions, which you took to mean ‘tell me the albums the popular hits on the radio are coming from’ and pattered off the top selling records from memory. You’d sold more copies of Madonna’s Like a Virgin in the past week than you could possibly keep track of, purely because people wanted the album with Material Girl or Like a Virgin or Into the Groove on it. Steve had gotten unsurprisingly interested in the album with Careless Whisper on it, as did most horn dog, wannabe players who came strutting into your store. You were more than happy to sell him the record and get on with your shift, but he wasn’t letting that happen.

“Cause, the full record’s like eight bucks.” He held up the tape “But the tape’s like six, plus three bucks for the single that’s like nine bucks, that’s more than the record.” He grinned, placing the tape on top of the single, handing them back to you as if they were yours.

You felt your face colour, in part because he’d taught you in your lie, but in part because he seemed genuinely proud of that mental math. “You’re...you’re right. I wasn’t thinking, sorry ‘bout that.” You said easily, shrugging as you placed the single back on the shelf and the tape into the plastic shopping basket on your arm. He’d caught you shelving tapes in the easy listening section half an hour ago and you weren’t allowed to shelf while talking to a customer, meaning you were forced to lug them around with you as Steve wandered, asking questions. And those things were heavy all lumped together! There had to be at least a hundred copies of Kate Bush’s Running Uphill and Whitney Houston’s Whitney Houston in your stupid basket!

“It’s cool, no biggie...I think I’ll just get the single, come back for the record if I like the song enough.” He decided with a small nod.

You grit your teeth. You wanted to scream about how singles were a waste of money and how you’d make no money on commission for that. Instead, you nodded “Great! If you just head to the counter, Michelle can check you. Enjoy your record!” you said, turning on your heel and practically rushing out of the stereo accessory section he’d dragged you to. You only had forty minutes to shelf all the tapes on your arm, or else you’d have to stay passed close to do it, which both your closing manager and you would hate.

“Hey, uh wait!” he called, chasing after you. You let out a small sigh, turning back with a painful smile. “I was sort of wondering, well maybe if you’d wanna maybe go out this weekend? They’re showing Dawn of the Dead at the theatre, I’ve heard it pretty good...” he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, eyes drifting to the ceiling instead to yours.

Your brows furrowed. You weren’t expecting this from him. But, of course, he was not the first boy to ask you out while you were at work. It was a distressingly common theme. You assumed that guys liked that you had to be nice to them, or that they didn’t realize that you had to be nice and assumed that you were flirting. “Oh...um I’m working this weekend...” you said, shuffling on your feet. Most of the time, when guys ask you out at work, they seemed so confident and cocky, it was easy to reject them. But Steve looked genuinely nervous and you couldn’t place why.

Steve’s smirk only grew, he leaned in closer, trapping you against a rack of blank tapes “Aw come on, have a little fun,  come out with me instead.” He said. You’d heard this shtick before, Billy Hargrove had tried it on you just a couple weeks prior. Having it come from Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, made you want to puke. Because you knew exactly where he’d been. With Billy, it was unclear; lots of girls lied about what they did and didn’t do with that boy. But everyone knew who did what with Harrington. You weren’t too interested in being put on a list.

“Yeah, I actually need the money so…no.” you replied, pushing out from under his arm and away from him. Steve stumbled back, shocked and a little mortified by how you’d reacted to his flirting.

Steve’s head dropped, his gaze focusing on his scuffed converse before he looked at you again “Yeah...yeah no that’s cool, no biggie. Some other time then...” he said awkwardly, brushing the singular strand of brown hair from his face. You didn’t say anything, what were you supposed to say? That you thought he was a douche and had zero interest in doing anything with him? That kind of language could get you fired. And you needed this job, you desperately needed a car for next year.

“I’ll see you around?” Steve tried awkwardly, his smile turning into a frown fast as you didn’t respond.

“Yeah sure.” You nodded “I gotta go shelf this stuff before the mall closes.” You headed back towards the easy listening section, trying not to cringe at the awkward interaction you’d just experienced. It was so very awkward! It was more fun to reject assholes who treated you like a well dressed object to leer and gawk at. Sam Goody didn’t have uniforms per say, simply a dress code to uphold; it was encouraged to look cool, hip, and young. As long as your shoes were black sneakers, your hair wasn’t fully in your face, and you could see your bottoms under your tiny apron, you were good. Which meant you chose your clothes carefully. Generally, you went with a patterned button down, which you could pop as many or as few buttons on as you want. That meant that you could be remembered by your male and female customers alike could either remember you by your name or as the chick with the great tits. It worked well.

But it also meant that guys like Steve Harrington talked to your chest.          

And it was weird for Steve to talk to your chest! Especially since you and Steve had never had a conversation. Like ever. If you weren’t wearing a nametag, you’d be utterly shocked that he knew your name. Because he was the proverbial king of Hawkins and you were a nobody. Well, a nobody until someone wanted to use your employee discount. Then, suddenly you were the most popular girl in school. Hell, you should’ve gotten a job sooner, maybe you would’ve had a date to the spring formal last year.

Steve did buy the single. Even though he hated singles. Who wanted to listen to one song over and over again? Even if it had a B-side, it wasn’t worth the price. He bought it, he made sure to say that you helped him, and then he left. The mall was closing down, save the movie theatre, and he wanted to get home as soon as possible. That was so embarrassing. He didn’t even know why he tried, it wasn’t as if she had any pretence to him. All the other girls he’d been hitting on that summer were his age, they knew him and his style. They also knew about the most humiliating moment in his life, a lot of them were even there to experience it second hand. But you had only the rumours of his dickish tendencies to go off of. That wasn’t enough for anyone to work with.

But stupid Dustin had gotten it in his head that he had to get a girl, that Robin was the right girl. But Robin wasn’t the right girl, no way in hell. So he went in harder on trying to get a date. Every girl his age got hit on, he’d nearly got his ass beat by Justin Gardner after hitting on his girlfriend in front of him, but how was he supposed to know Justin was dating? Justin was a benchwarmer who couldn’t get a date if he paid them in school. Now suddenly he could get a hottie? Unbelievable.

It didn’t help that Dustin had a girlfriend now. And yes, it was embarrassing that Steve was jealous of a thirteen year old for having a girlfriend, he would never admit it out loud. But even though he didn’t believe that Suzie actually existed, it was slightly annoying that his dorky little friend could get a girlfriend and he couldn’t. He used to be able to get any girl he wanted! What happened? Did Nancy spread a rumour about him that he hadn’t heard yet? Was it because he lost a fight to both Billy Hargrove and Jonathan Byers? Or was it because he wasn’t going to college in the fall?

He was almost certain it was because he wasn’t going to school in the fall.

That and the dorky sailor outfit he had to wear at Scoops Ahoy!

The dumb Dixie cup hat and sailor shirt were totally throwing off his game. That’s why he was looking forward to going to the mall that day, out of uniform, to scope babes. He didn’t have much success, but he was a little bit excited to see you out of uniform. He’d seen you about a dozen times, all while you were at work, leaned over the counter, sometimes chewing on the end of a pen, sometimes laughing with coworkers or customers. You always looked so...well beautiful. He had to see it up close. And you just a beautiful up close, but it was obvious that you were uncomfortable too. Still, you were cute. He wished that you were a year older, that you already had all the context to his life. But what could he do? He wasn’t going back in there, not with you wandering around with your judgy eyes. It would be humiliating.

And he was already humiliating himself enough that summer.

You finished shelving the tapes in record time, mostly because the shop was empty and Michelle was thoroughly annoyed by your usual slow closes. You wanted to do a good job with your work and not rush the job, whereas Michelle just wanted to leave as fast as possible. After Sean, your least threatening manager, locked up the shop, the three of you all headed towards the exit. You rode your bike to work, since your mother almost never lent you the family car, but at night you felt less and less comfortable riding home. Sometimes Sean would offer you a ride, but ever since he and Michelle started hooking up, the rides got less and less frequent and when they did happen, Sean would spend the whole time complaining about the ambiguity of his relationship with Michelle. You didn’t take the rides home too often anymore. Not that one would be offered tonight, Michelle had latched herself onto his arm and had nuzzled so deep into his neck that you wondered if she could even see where she was going.

“You want a ride, Y/N?” Sean called as you exited into the parking lot. Sean’s burgundy pickup truck was parked so close to the doors and your legs were so tired. But taking the ride home meant that you’d either have to sit next to them on the front seat or in the trunk part with your bike. And neither option sounded too much better than peddling home.

“Nah, thanks though, I’d rather ride home.” You said with a smile, heading over to the bike racks and pulling the key out from around your neck and off your head, jabbing it into the padlock and clicking the lock open, wrapping the chain around the neck of your bike.

“You sure? It’s pretty dark already...” Sean replied, looking around the desolate parking lot, more concerned than he really needed to be.

“Baby, she said she’s fine.” Michelle said, resting a hand on his chest. Sean didn’t argue passed that and you turned on your bright bike light, swinging your leg over the seat and propped your foot on the peddle, pushing off.

You sped home, making it back to your house in record time. Your mother had left you a note by the door, explaining that she’d taken your younger sister to ballet class and she’d be home late. You crumpled up the note paper, tossing it into the waste paper bin by the powder room door, climbing the stairs and heading into the bathroom, turning on the hot water in your tub and letting it start to fill up. You were rifling through the pile of magazines next to your bed, trying to find the latest issue of cosmo you’d nicked from the corner store just a couple days ago.

Across town, Steve was hiding in his room. His father had ripped him a new one. Again. Turns out, his sailor suit was still laughable a month in to him having to wear it. He still wasn’t over the fact that Steve hadn’t gotten into college and he couldn’t get a better job than ice cream scooper part time. His standards of jobs in Hawkins was a bit too high, in Steve’s opinion. Still, his degrading of him at every turn was getting exhausting. He flopped on his mattress pitifully.

“This whole summer has been a nightmare…” you both muttered, you as you slipped into the steamy water, Steve as he kicked off his thick white socks.

Working at Sam Goody had many perks, like not having a stupid uniform and not smelling like spoiled food all the time, but you spent your time surrounded by assholes. You wanted to meet one nice guy. One guy who didn’t leer down your top and talk to your tits, who didn’t smirk at you or call you ‘baby’, ‘sugar’, or ‘honey’. Just one descent guy who’d treat you like a person instead of a sex doll. God, you would’ve said yes to Harrington if you weren’t working, at least at first. Once he pulled the macho, ‘I know you want me baby’ shit you were out completely. But for a second, when he was rambling on about Dawn of the Dead, you felt like you could stomach a night out or two with him

Meanwhile, Steve just wanted to feel like himself again. His whole last year of high school had been hell on his confidence. First, Nancy dumps him, then Billy Hargrove takes over his team and steals all his friends, then he didn’t get into college, and then Scoops Ahoy? It was all too much. He’d never felt like a loser in his life. He used to be liked, he used to be popular. And yeah, being popular didn’t really matter anymore, but for one last summer before everything changed on him, he wanted to be someone again. Just for a minute. And maybe that’s why he was acting like such an asshole. Because he needed some control over his life. He wished he could’ve gotten in under control when he was talking to the pretty girl in the record store, he made himself into such a douche. That wasn’t who he was, but she didn’t know that. God, he wanted to curl up into a ball and die.

You turned your head up to the ceiling, letting your sweaty neck stick to the cold tile behind your head. You didn’t want to go to work the next day, at least you had the morning shift. Tracey Lords would hopefully make into her shift that day. She hated opening shifts, so the pair of you often traded. You’d still have to stay behind if you got a bit of a rush, which you were expecting. Tomorrow was Friday, when the buses filled with the townies from the neighbouring towns and cities, all coming to bask in the free A/C and glorious shopping experiences. You hated Fridays, they always brought in the worst types of people, mostly shoplifters, who totally ruined your sales for the week. You vowed to stop stealing magazines from the Pick n’ Save after you saw your commission rates plummet after last Friday and a terrible group of greedy kids stole up your section.

Steve really didn’t want to go to the mall at all the next day, if only because he didn’t want to see you in his stupid sailor and hat, walking around like the geek of the week. He just wanted to hide away every shift. But the malls back hallways didn’t lead to any bathrooms, so he was forced to wander the mall like an idiot every time he needed to alleviate himself. He didn’t want you to see him like that. His confidence was already so low, he didn’t need to crumble up what was left of it.

Steve fell asleep that night with dreams of a face, undefined beyond a set of eyes, a nose, and a wide smile. No matter what he said in the dream, the person, a girl his dream decided for him, just smiled and laughed. The eyes were so deep and wide, they took up most of his memory of the dream, although he couldn’t even really place the colour of them, just that they looked at him so lovingly. The way he longed for someone to look at him. He woke up the next morning still in his sailor suit, with the eyes following him to work.

Across town, you woke up from a deep, dreamless sleep. You woke up well rested for the first time in weeks, it was as though someone slipped a sleeping pill in your bath water the night before and it sent you crashing into the pillow with your whole body ready and willing to sleep. You went into work happier than ever, high on the endorphins a good night’s sleep gave you.

Both you and Steve left for work at the exact same time that morning, unaware of your paths even crossing. You headed upstairs to meet Toby, who had the keys to unlock the store, and set to work straightening up the shop and opening your register for the day. Kim Rein sauntered in twenty minutes late, fifteen minutes before the mall opened and you tried not to give her too much side eye. Steve started his own open a level below, restocking cones and cups and filling his soap and sanitizer buckets under the counter.

Once the mall opened, you suffered through four hours of stupid people with stupid questions about terrible albums. You sold three copies of Kate Bush’s Running Uphill, which was an accomplishment for you, since her last album was the only popular due to the hilariously weird Wuthering Heights. You were bored by two in the afternoon, when Toby finally sent you on break. All you wanted was a damn Orange Julius and you’d pay any amount for one.

Likewise, Steve was very much over his shift around the same time when Robin finally agreed to let him go on his damn break. He just needed to get out of the stupid shop. He was going to go to the cheap vending machine, the one by the cafeteria bathrooms, to get a can of Coke. Both of you headed into the shopping mall, trying to avoid anyone you knew.

Unfortunately, you ran directly into Tommy Hanson.

Tommy Hanson was an asshole and a bully. He didn’t know how to treat anyone decently.  He stepped all over people. Was it any wonder that Carol broke up with him at least twice a year? It just so happened that Carol dumped him during the summer.

And now he was standing in front of you, blocking your way to the sweet, sweet Orange Julius.

“Y/N, baby, looking foxy as always.” He said, running his tongue over his upper lip. He’d stolen that look from Billy Hargrove and it didn’t work for either of them.

“Tommy.” You replied, skirting passed him and into the short line, keeping your eyes on the board above the shop.

“Why you rushing off, baby?” he asked, following behind you “I just wanna talk for a second…” you didn’t reply, ignoring him as best you could. ”You’re stunning, you know that? Absolutely gorgeous…” his eyes ran over your body like a tongue; his gaze was thick and hot, it made you want to cringe and pull away.

“Thank you.” You said shortly, getting to the front of the line and ordering quickly.

“What’d you say we go into the back, fool around for a bit?” he asked in your ear. You grimaced, glaring at him before moving out of the way for the next person.

“Don’t make me puke, Hanson.” You snapped, grabbing your blended drink from the poor server having to watch the scene going on between you and Tommy.

“Aw come on, don’t be such a bitch, Y/N.” Tommy whined, grabbing your drink from your hands “You know you want to...”

You reached for your drink, but Tommy just pulled it away. God, he was such a damn child. “Tommy, give me back my drink.” You said sternly.

“Come with me, I’ll give it back when we’re done, you’ll need it more then anyway.” He replied cheekily.

Steve saw this scene going down from the vending machine. He contemplated going over there when Tommy first walked over; he knew that the guy had gotten pretty scummy since he started hanging out with Billy. But when he starting grabbing things from you and taunting you, Steve couldn’t help but go over there.

“Dude,” Steve said, grabbing the drink out of Tommy’s hand, hovering over him. “You wanna try to get a decent personality?”

You looked between the pair of them, trying to decide if you could run off while they were arguing. But you paid good money for that drink and you really wanted it. You realized quickly that Tommy wasn’t going to let this go, and you really couldn’t stand the kid as is. You made your move fast.

“Steve!” you gasped with a shrill giggle “There you are!” you walked over to him, taking the drink he offered shyly and wrapping an arm around his waist. “So are you gonna take me out this weekend or not?” you asked, batting your eyelashes up at him. Steve looked utterly startled, but he didn’t react poorly.

“Course, darling...” he cooed. Steve could’ve died; you made such a disgusted face at the nickname he would’ve happily melted into the tile and be mopped up by Larry the janitor. But you didn’t pull your arm away.

“Walk me back to work?” You asked sweetly. Steve nodded, not trusting himself to not say anything embarrassing. You waved to Tommy, letting Steve lead you away from him, taking a long sip from your drink. It was already melting, but it was still sweet and cold, so you didn’t mind. And Steve had helped you out, although somewhat unwillingly, which was certainly an improvement.

Steve looked back only once, but the look on Tommy’s face was priceless. He looked so annoyed and more than a little broken up about his snatching away of you. His ego hadn’t been this inflated since October of last year. He felt like he was on cloud nine, like he was finally himself again. And even when you let him go, he still felt good about himself.

“Thanks for the help, Harrington.” You bit out once you were far enough away from Tommy.

“Sure, no problem. You want me to walk you back upstairs or are you good?” Steve asked, cracking his can of New Coke. He didn’t love New Coke, but it was all the vending machine was serving and he was just desperate enough to drink it.

You sighed “No I’m alright, I’m still on break, so I’m just gonna go hide somewhere.”

“You can hide at Scoops.” Steve blurted. He mentally kicked himself in the ass, it was such a stupid idea. The upstairs stores had break rooms, you didn’t need to hide with him.

You raised an eyebrow, watching him carefully. Steve swallowed, finishing the thought “The place is busy enough as is and if Tommy walks in, well he already thinks something is happened with...us, he won’t try anything else.”

“Won’t your boss get mad if I’m in there, not eating ice cream?” you asked.

“Oh he’s never here. Me and Robin have keys so we switch between opening and closing. You’re totally good.” Steve explained, scuffing the toe of his shoe into the ground, making a black mark on the white and teal tiles.

“Robin...like Robin Buckley?” you asked, stopping dead in the middle of the hall.

“I think that’s her last name?” Steve replied, scrunching up his face in thought.

“Oh I can’t. She hates me. My friend Tammy told everyone in our sophomore year history class that she was weird and avoided her for like a month. I didn’t do shit, but you know, loyalties and shit.” You explained, running your hands through your hair, slightly embarrassed by the memory.

Steve thought for a moment, an idea slowly coming into view. “She won’t even know that you’re there, come on!” he said, grabbing your hand and dragging you off. You gasped, laughing as you ran to keep up with him.

Steve dragged you through the back halls and rooms leading behind the shops. You hadn’t been through the lower level’s back halls and they were much more expansive that the upstairs halls. The whole space still felt eerie, but much cooler than the upper level. Steve pulled you into one of the rooms and you spotted the nautical theming of the shop. Steve rushed and shut a divider themed with dark wood and glass bricks.

“There, she won’t know that you’re here and you can hide from Tommy. Easy.” Steve said proudly, hopping up on the ledge.

“Can’t she hear you talking to someone?” you chuckled, pulling out the awful plastic folding chair and sitting down.

“Eh, we’re busy enough for her to not notice or care. Probably think I’m talking to myself or something.”  

You leaned back in your chair, letting the front legs of the chair raise into the air as you crossed your arms over your chest. “You talk to yourself a lot, Harrington?” you asked cheekily.

Steve shrugged “Only when I’m really trying to break something down.” He replied. You were surprised and a little refreshed by the honesty. You didn’t expect him to be honest with you; you expected him to lie or try to pull some cool line. It was nice that he wasn’t trying so hard.

“What about you? I bet you’re the stone silent type, keeping it all inside.” Steve added, leaning his elbows on his knees.

“You’re not wrong...” you grinned, cocking your head to the side. You let the front legs drop back down to the ground with a tinny smack, your arms unfurling themselves to balance yourself. “But I sing to myself all the time.”

Steve’s grin turned lopsided and you wondered what exactly what was going through his head. “Really?” he asked.

“Yeah...I find it calming. It helps me to focus my mind, sometimes it just a singular line of a song, over and over again until I get whatever I’m trying to do done.”

“Doing a lot of singing nowadays?”

You sighed “Pretty much...you doing a lot of talking?”

“All I do is talk now.”

You nodded to yourself, forcing the chair to turn towards Steve and centring yourself on it, resting your arms on your knees and looking up at him. “Alright, what’s happening with you?” you asked.

Steve turned away slightly “Ah geez...I mean haven’t you heard? I’m like the only guy who didn’t get into any colleges. I’m stuck here for another year, working and trying to get my shit together.” He ran his fingers angrily through his hair, ripping at the strands as if they hurt him personally.

“I mean...that fucking sucks. But you’ll be okay.” You replied “I mean, look on the bright side, you have another year to be something else.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, furrowing his brow.

“You get a fresh start in a world you already know. You don’t have to be the jerk everyone in school knew you as. And you don’t have to mope around either. You can just be...you.” You smiled to yourself over that answer. Steve had given you a hard puzzle to solve, and while you couldn’t solve it for him, you were glad to have an answer at all.

Steve chuckled, although he wasn’t sure why, nor did you. “Oh yeah? And who is me?” he asked.

You shrugged “I have no idea. I don’t think most people do.”

Steve’s expression changed to one you couldn’t read. He nodded to himself, leaning back onto the glass. He let out a deep sigh “Honestly? I don’t even know anymore...” That wasn’t a shock to you, but you didn’t say that out loud. Steve cracked a smirk “Who did you think I was?”

“Oh...I have no idea.” You leaned back in your chair, letting out a big breath “I didn’t really know you, just your reputation. I only knew the bad stuff, which made you seem like an asshole.”

Steve’s smile dropped and he looked away “Yeah...you aren’t the only one who thinks that...” he admitted sadly.

“But...I mean I didn’t have any proof till yesterday. That guy was a real asshole.” Steve’s face dropped further, but you didn’t try ease the blow you’d just sent him.

“Yeah...I’m sorry ‘bout that.” He muttered, looking up to finally meet your eye.

You nodded, sighing softly “It’s alright, no biggie. I get it now.” You said.

Steve found a small smile again “What do you think of this guy?” he asked, unashamed of the slightly embarrassing question.

You placed a finger on your chin, raising your eyes to the ceiling to truly think. “Hmm...I think I like this guy better.”

Steve smirked “Yeah?” he hopped off the ledge, inching towards you. You didn’t move, watching him stalk over to you.

“Just a little...” you pinched your finger and thumb together, showing an inch in between. “I’d like you more if you wore normal clothes.” Steve rolled his eyes, his hands coming cautiously to your face, pulling it up to kiss you. You didn’t resist his grab, easing yourself out of the chair, shoving your hands into your back pockets.

“Alright, what the hell is going on in there?!?!” The divider slammed against its sleeve violently and Steve snapped his head around. Robin was staring at you incredulously. She looked more than a little furious, but it melted away when you met her eye.

“Oh god, really dingus? Her?”  Robin scoffed. Steve merely shrugged, turning his attention back to you without a word.

“You mind shutting the divider, Buckley?” you asked “Harrington’s a bit busy...” you grabbed his fake tie, pulling his lips to yours, the sound of the divider slapping shut the only sound left in the room.

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #stranger things imagine #stranger things headcanon #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington au #steve harrington aus #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction

[maruwrites]

The Revolution pt. VI

Summary: Dustin thinks he’s finally gonna have a quiet, normal childhood after the events with the Demodogs and Dart, until a new threat shows up at his house in the form of a 17-year old girl.

Warnings: Cursing, because ofc. Aaaaaangst. Also, abandonment issues, sorry.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Word count: 3.7 k (whoa)

Part I :: Part II :: Part III :: Part IV :: Part V

It had all been too civil. 

In the pursuit of her family, (Y/N) had been laughed at, chased at, and at one point she even had a gun pointed to her head. Sure, that last one happened with one of the man that had helped (Y/N)’s aunt relocate her, and he thought the girl’s insistent knocking was because of a pending debt to some loan sharks, but still. It happened. 

So it wasn’t really surprising to her that she found herself out of breath after screaming at her weeping mother. Both stood awkwardly in the living room, and a few tears threatened to stream down (Y/N)’s face, but she wiped them off quickly. She looked around and took a deep breath, her lips quivering. 

(Y/N) blamed Steve for this.

This is what had happened. 

After eating at the diner, they did go to the arcade, and had a fun time. It was awkward at first, and there were a few setbacks here and there, but (Y/N) was surprised to see that they were actually hanging out just fine. She helped Dustin break Max’s record and didn’t miss the slightly nervous look on his face that was quickly replaced by joy, but said nothing. And Steve was so helpless, he couldn’t even play Galaga (“I’m not a video game guy, I’m more of an action dude”, to which she replied “You’re killing enemy aliens arriving in formation trying to capture your spaceship. It doesn’t get more action than this”. That was a pivotal moment for Dustin, by the way, who liked her even more now). Afterwards, Steve dropped Dustin at his house, and they said their goodbyes. The boy had actually said “I’ll see you” to (Y/N), which was a good thing. She should invite him to spend time with her at the bookstore. Maybe next time.

“So…,” Steve began, trying to fill the silence in the car. He had insisted on driving (Y/N) to her motel so she wouldn’t walk around alone at night. After much discussing, she’d reluctantly agreed. “That was… fun, right?”

(Y/N) let herself smile a bit. “Yeah, it was alright.”

“C'mon, (Y/N)! It was rocky at first, I’ll admit it. But he’s starting to like you.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” he assured her, looking at the girl next to him for a second before turning back to the street. “Specially when you kept making fun of me.”

“That was fun for the both of us," she laughed. Steve huffed. "You’re not really upset.”

“Nah. You two are bonding, and Dustin’s not mad at me anymore which is… A good thing. I can tell I’ll probably get home and he’s gonna annoy the shit out of me with the walkie, but I won’t complain. For now.” Steve joked and she laughed quietly, letting the silence take over again. “Did you really want to punch me?”

“Yeah,” She said, matter-of-factly. At his feigned surprised, (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “The first time I saw you, you were watching me and judging-”

“I was not!”

“You were! You were just standing there, thinking you’re so cool,” she began,  flailing her arms and making fun of him once more. “Your arms crossed, all serious, with that cool hair. Not saying anything. You were like, trying to figure me out. Which I get, but it doesn’t mean that I liked it.”

“… You think my hair is cool?” Steve grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at her. (Y/N) shot him an exasperated glance and rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything.

Part of the reason she was reluctant to agree to that ride was because he made her uncomfortable. That hadn’t happen a lot of times in (Y/N)’s life. For the most part, she had to fend for herself, be independent. She couldn’t let people dictate how she felt all the time, she didn’t take shit from anyone. So whenever someone made her feel uncomfortable, or less than, she’d just call them out on it, pick a fight or just leave. But this was a different kind of uncomfortable. 

It didn’t take too long for them to reach her motel, which was a relief. It was becoming hard to breathe inside that car. But right as she turned to the back seat to pick up her duffle bag, Steve spoke.

“Do you, um…,” he began as soon as he parked on the parking lot, looking around at the rooms in front of them, and she could tell he was nervous. “I don’t know how to ask you this without sounding like an ass.”

“Maybe don’t ask, then." (Y/N) said, feeling weird. Scared. What was he gonna ask?

"Ugh, just.” He rubbed his face. “This is not a nice motel. I mean, isn’t it dirty and kind of gross?”

(Y/N) sighed, relieved. She could handle that questioning. “Yeah. But it’s my best option.”

“Don’t you think Ms. Henderson would-”

“She already offered," (Y/N) interrupted Steve, giving him a pointed look. "It’s probably not the best idea, with Dustin and everything.”

“Yeah, but-”

“What’s going on, man?,” she asked, her forehead wrinkling. “You know that I can’t push him, that I have to take this slow so that he doesn’t have such a hard time accepting that I… exist." (Y/N) made a face.

"That was before I saw this dump you’ve been staying at for more than a week.” He was concerned, that’s what that was. As soon as he entered the parking lot of the motel, Steve made a grossed-out face. It’s not like he didn’t know about the motel, but actually seeing it made him get the creeps. “Don’t you get scared or whatever?”

(Y/N) scoffed. “This is just a small town. What would I have to be scared of?” Demogorgons. People with telekinesis power. Creepy-ass lab experiments.

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged, ignoring his thoughts. “But it doesn’t feel… safe.”

“Steve, I can’t exactly rent a place. I don’t have the money, and I didn’t-don’t plan on staying here for too long. Dustin’s house is out of the question. I didn’t know anyone in town, so it’s not like I could crash at someone’s couch.”

“You know me,” Steve quickly added, trying like hell to ignore the gnawing feeling in his chest. The restlessness. “I live in a big house. A lot of guest rooms. Plus, there’s a pool house. You could stay there if you wanted.”

“I don’t know you,” (Y/N) stated simply. “You’re just some guy trying to help me become friends with my estranged mother and half-brother. Which, granted, is a lot. But I don’t really know you.” She felt weird having to explain that to him. Why on Earth would he invite her to his house when they didn’t really know each other? Unless… No, she would ignore the thought that popped in her head. Steve had all the looks of the guys who would actually invite her to his place just for sex, but he didn’t have the personality. Not from what she had witnessed. “Also, wouldn’t your parents think it odd that there’s a girl staying at their house?”

Steve scoffed and looked down at his hands, fiddling with his fingers. He was just some guy helping her. She was right. Why was he so upset at her words? 

“My parents travel around a lot. Plus, even when they’re here, they’re not here. Not very present people, my folks. Remote, I’d call them.” Steve joked, but she could sense the hurt in his words. That was probably why he was friends with Dustin, why her mother had gushed at Steve when they had discussed his friendship with Dustin. Was he looking for a family? Like she was?

“Steve,” She said, after a while. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine. It’s fine. I’m not gonna stay in this dump for long, just until I settle things with my family, and then…" (Y/N) bit the inside of her lip and turned around to get her duffle bag. 

"And then…?” Steve encouraged her to finish the sentence, even though he was sure the end of it would upset him.

“Then I’ll leave, go on my way? I don’t know yet." (Y/N) looked at him, and she could see the wheels turning in his mind, but ignored it. "Good night, Steve." 

Steve kept looking at her long after she’d shut his door. He saw her reach for the keys to the room in the front pocket of the bag, he saw her open her door and enter, but what he heard after she walked in her room was a scream. Steve quickly made his way out of his car, hearing (Y/N) yell out a "Get the fuck out of here!”, but didn’t manage to walk two steps before he saw a half-naked man run from her room, holding the pieces of clothing he wasn’t wearing. Steve furrowed his brows and finally reached her room, seeing (Y/N) rub her eyes. 

“What the hell was that?,” he exclaimed. (Y/N) let out a yelp.

“Fuck! Steve! Don’t creep up on a girl like that.”

“You mean, like that dude? (Y/N), what was that?”

“How the fuck would I know? Never seen him before." (Y/N) sighed, looking around her room, disgusted. There’s was no way she was gonna stay there, not after she walked in on that creep lying half-naked on the bed she had been sleeping. She thought maybe she had seen him before, one of the maintenance workers at the motel. "Shit…”

“Okay, this fucking settles it, right? Let’s go pay what you owe and then, we’re going back to my house. Okay?” Steve asked, his facial features soft and concerned. (Y/N) thought she might throw up. 

She sighed. “Okay.”

The ride back to his place had been mostly silent, except when Steve made fun of (Y/N), his voice going up an octave, saying “This is just a small town. What would I have to be scared of?”. (Y/N) snorted and slapped him in the arm. But other than that, they were both silent. 

Steve was a mess. Sure, he didn’t know her, and he was bringing a stranger into his home, and he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t steal him, or kill him in his sleep. He was almost positive she wouldn’t, but, y'know. Although that wasn’t his main concern. He wasn’t even sure what was making him so nervous. He had brought girls to his house before. Well, it was a different situation. Very different. And yet, he couldn’t help but wonder if that wasn’t the very thing (Y/N) was thinking about. She’d just been creeped out by some random dude, maybe she was thinking that Steve would do the same? Play nice, be polite, help her out and then… No, he wouldn’t. He knew he wouldn’t. Did she?

(Y/N)’s mind, on the other hand, was going a million miles per hour. What was she doing? Why did she agree to this? Sure, a creepy dude showed up and she had no idea how he entered her room, but she could’ve gotten another room. Well, that was a stupid idea, if that guy managed to get inside one room, who could say he wouldn’t do it with another one? But also, who could say going to Steve’s house was a better idea? At least the motel was in a more central part of the town. His house, (Y/N) soon realized when he pulled into his driveway, was a more secluded place. Okay, so she was almost sure he wouldn’t try anything, but “almost sure” isn’t good enough, and she had been wrong about people before, so.

“We’re here.” Steve smiled, turned the keys in the ignition. 

(Y/N) took a deep breath and followed him, as he entered the house and showed her around. She was astounded. The house was enormous, she couldn’t possibly be expected to believe only three people lived there. Steve showed her to the kitchen, and she accepted a glass of water. 

“There are guest rooms down here, but you can also stay in the pool house, if you’d like.” Steve offered.

“Um, yeah. I think-yeah. It might be best if I stay in the pool house.” She nervously said.

“Thought so.” Steve bit his lips, nervous. It would make her feel less nervous about all of this, he thought, if she was at least further away from him. On her own, instead of in the same house as his. He took her to the pool house and left her there, going back to the main house for blankets and a towel. 

(Y/N) plopped down on the bed, looking around. This was significantly better than her motel room, and it smelled better too, a scent of pine and lavender filling the entire place. And the bathroom, holy crap, the bathroom. It was squeaky clean, the rose-shaped soaps on top of the shining white porcelain acting more of a decorative feature than something you should actually use. She wouldn’t dare touch those soaps. 

She took a sip of the water, sighed again and stood up, doing the same routine she’d done every day at the motel. The folded clothes went in the dresser, the toiletries were arranged on the bathroom sink, and the books were placed at the bedside table. (Y/N) put the duffle bag in a chair as Steve made his way back.

“So, here are some things you might need.” He put the towel and blankets on top of the bed, and looked at the girl, seeing her give him a small smile. They didn’t say anything while Steve looked around and saw her books, and a few photographs sticking out of them. “Oh, cool, you have-”

“Don’t!" (Y/N) had ran in his direction, stopping in front of him and taking from his hands Joan Didion’s The White Album. Steve eyes went wide, her sudden movements catching him off guard. And then they stayed wide because of the proximity between the two.

Steve knew at that moment he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night. 

He’d never been this close to (Y/N) before and he could see every detail in her face, her soulful eyes, her flushed cheeks, the soft edges of her lips. Her eyes were filled with worry, and her eyebrows just a little bit furrowed. (Y/N) was out of breath and she was standing so close that her breathing was hitting him right on the part of his chest his shirt didn’t cover, and that did it for him. 

He liked her. 

He liked her. 

‘Fuck.’

"These are…,” her word cut through the silence, as she looked at the book in her hands. “Personal. I’m sorry I yelled, that was…" 

Every part of (Y/N)’s mind was telling her to take a step back. 'C'mon, (Y/N). Create some distance.’ But her body would not obey. There was this warmth coming from him, from all of him. She could feel it a little coming from his body, that was fine, (Y/N) could handle that. But she could also see it in his eyes, and that warmth, radiating from his half-closed lids, was killing her. That, she could not handle. So her body finally caught up and she took a step back, her legs hitting the bed.

Steve had not spoken yet. He didn’t know what to say, mainly because he didn’t want to say anything. He just wanted to kiss her and hold her and goddamn it, why her all of people? Why the stubborn, hot-headed, rude girl? 

"Um… I think I better, y'know… Get some sleep," (Y/N) spoke softly, gesturing at the bed behind her and giving him a tight-lipped smile.

"Right!,” Steve practically screamed, he wasn’t able to modulate his voice anymore. All of it, how to speak, what words to use, forgotten. (Y/N) jumped a bit at his words, and he sighed. “Sorry, uh- Yeah, yeah. I’m gonna go too. Sorry about the…,” he pointed at the book in her hands and saw that she was gripping with a lot more force than necessary.

“It’s fine.”

There was a moment of silence where Steve’s feet were glued to the carpet.

“Um, good night, (Y/N),” he said, still.

“Good night, Steve. Thanks for letting me stay.”

Steve bit his lips and scratched his neck, making his way to the door. Before he shut it, he mumbled a “No problem.” without looking at her. (Y/N) plopped down on the bed again and took a deep breath. It felt like she hadn’t breathed in a really long time. 

(Y/N) tried to understand what had just happened and she couldn’t, for the life of her, figure it out. She knew what attraction felt like, obviously. She’d felt a few times in her life, and acted on it too. But for some reason, this felt more than that. More than- 

'No. Deny it. Bury it. Ignore it. Whatever you have to do, don’t think about it,’ she thought, throwing the book aside and diving her head in the pillow. (Y/N) stood up, took a shower, changed into a baggy t-shirt, and tucked herself inside the covers, her mind racing too much to fall asleep, so she opened the very book Steve had grabbed and read the first sentence.

“We tell ourselves stories in order to live.”

So (Y/N) hadn’t slept at all the night before, not a wink. 

She had tossed and turned and at one point, it was close to 3 am., she went to the window and noticed that the light was on on the bedroom looking out the pool. (Y/N) sighed and went back to bed.

Her anxiety was at an all-time high, she was tired and honestly, she just wanted to scream all of these feelings away. Feelings of inadequacy, of abandonment, of whatever it was that stupid thing in the pit of the stomach whenever she looked at Steve’s stupid face. 

When she’d called Claudia in the morning, as promised, and her mother told her to visit her that day, she embraced that opportunity with open arms. All of those feelings had been replaced by anger, and though she was sure she’d regret it later, (Y/N) knew exactly what she was going to do now that some time had passed and she was gonna talk to Claudia alone, without Dustin. The boy was a major inconvenience and everything about him threw her off her game, but now he was at school… Now, Claudia was going to listen to everything she had to say.

So she arrived at the Henderson house, duffle bag on her shoulders, and Claudia answered the door cheerily, cleaning her hands on her apron. She gave the girl some room to enter and (Y/N) let the bag fall on the floor as soon as she went inside. Claudia jumped from the noise it made and looked at her daughter. She could see it, the anger in her eyes.

“So, (Y/N)… I’m actually making lunch right now, nothing too fancy, just-”

“What happened?" (Y/N) asked, through gritted teeth. 

"What happened? I don’t understand, I-”

“Why… would you… throw me out?!" (Y/N)’s voice was louder now. "Like trash?! Is that what I am to you? Just something you can get rid of?”

It came to her, right then. As it always did when she always feeling down, as it always did when she’d let it. The rush of thoughts, each carrying its own unbearable weight. 

Abandoned as a baby.

Never adopted.

Went from foster home to foster home, and she used the word “home” loosely.

Never truly made friends.

Never had a family.

I had a family, she had to remember herself after the last one. I have a family, but they hate me, they chose not to be here, they don’t want me. They’ve never even met me and they already know I’m no good. I’m damaged and I don’t deserve a family. That’s why they’re not here. Because I don’t deserve them.

“What? No! I never wanted to get rid of you, never. I loved you-I love you, sweetie.” Claudia croaked, tears prickling in her eyes, and gulped.

“Don’t call me sweetie! You have no right to call me sweetie." (Y/N)’s tone was heartbreaking. 

"I was so happy when you showed up here, (Y/N), I-so, so happy. You have no idea.” Claudia sobbed. “I finally, finally-after 17 years, I was finally able to sleep at night. You have never once, not for a day, left my thoughts. When I would tuck Dustin in for the night when he was little, I would think about you and who was tucking you in-"”

"No one, that’s who was tucking me in." (Y/N) barked, avoiding her mother’s eyes.

Claudia sighed. "When Dustin was sick, I would think about you, and whether you were healthy. When he had friends over, I’d think what it would be like to have a bunch of little girls for a sleepover. When he does his homework in the kitchen, I always, always picture two people doing their homework in the kitchen. You’re always there, you’re always in my mind. And when you came here, I… For the first time, I knew where you were, and I was just-I am happy.”

“That makes one of us." (Y/N) hissed. 

She blamed Steve for this. If he hadn’t shown up, things would’ve turn out differently. If he hadn’t offered his place, she would’ve been able to sleep at night and she wouldn’t be a mess, like she was. Maybe she would’ve been more calm and collected, like she was when she’d met her dad. Okay, maybe she wasn’t. (Y/N) had been ready to yell at him for abandoning her, but the fact he didn’t even know she existed made her stop. And the grudge she held towards her mother got even bigger.

And it was in that moment of silence that they heard the keys in the door.

Dustin walked in with a smile on his face, and he even smiled larger when he’d seen (Y/N). She would not forget that. But it took him a split second to see that something was wrong. His mother was crying, weeping. The woman who took care of him when he was sick, the mostly aloof but definitely loving woman, his mother. He knew this had been a mistake, this girl. Right when he was starting to warm up to her. But now, she was making his mother cry. He would not accept that.

"Dustin, what are you-" (Y/N) started, but was quickly interrupted.

"Get out.” Dustin fumed.

“Dustin…” 

“Get the fuck out of my house! I don’t want to see you here, you don’t belong here!”

@moltars​ @sociallyimpairedme​ @hufflepeople @bitchinmouthbreather@hanasamara @lexannani @uncle-jjezzy @phantomjs @eudokimia @winchestertardis @ninja-stiles @ladyrenegade @im-a-stranger-thing

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x oc #harrington x henderson!reader #harrington x reader #revolution series #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things fanfiction

[xxsteveharringtonxx]

King Steve

*Gif not mine* 

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

King Steve

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You hissed when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you onto a bus. Looking up you fumed more seeing Steve Harrington, your dorky cousin Dustin and his weird friends, ripping your earphones out you glared at Dustin. 

“Dusty, you don’t just grab girls when they’re out running, it’s terrifying.” You snapped making him roll his eyes. 

“Okay first of all Steve grabbed you not me so stop yelling. What the hell are you even doing running this late at night?” You shook your head baffled at the younger boy.

“I’m five years older than you! What are you doing out this late? Wait hold on, Steve?! Steve Harrington? What the shit is going on?” You yelled making the small red head girl look at you equally as puzzled. 

“Look Y/N, there isn’t time to explain right now could you just stop yelling?” Steve tried to ask calmly making your glare harden, you and Steve had history, painful history that made you rather not think about it so naturally you avoided him like the plague. 

“Can you just let me off this stupid bus?” You asked shoving him to the side and opening the door, just as you did a huge dog like thing jumped at you opening it’s face screeching at you making you scream as Steve whacked it with a bat pulling you back inside 

You were frozen with wide eyes and shaking hands as Steve gently placed his hands on your shoulders gazing into your eyes like he had once done before but had a different meaning than now. 

He had Nancy for that.

“Y/N sit down and stay here.” He told you firmly but with a sigh, as if he wished you weren’t here. You’d heard that one before too. 

Before you even knew what was happening you were in the back of Steve’s car driving towards the Byers house. 

“Stop the car.” You voiced, it seemed to echo around the silence as Dustin looked at you. 

“Y/N you can’t-” 

“Stop the car Steve. Now.” He gently stopped the car looking at you in the rear view mirror as you climbed out and reached for Dustin.

“You are coming with me. I don’t know what the hell is going on but you are not, you are not being any part of this.” You told him growing cold as the harsh winds blew around you. 

“I already am! And so are you please just get in. We need to help Will.” Dustin emphasised and your heart went out to the little Byers boy, God knows what he’s going through or if those things were hurting him. 

With a heavy sigh you got back in the car, you felt Steve’s gaze on you as you were driving along but couldn’t bring yourself to look back. The last time you had spoken to Steve had broken your heart, unintentionally of course but he knew you were hurting and he made no effort to talk to you in the last year and you weren’t sure what had hurt you more. 

Steve was your best friend, all through middle school, and even freshman year of high school but as he started to get more popular and King Steve emerged his time for you wore thin. Not like he meant to push you away but he just got caught up in Tommy, and Carol but one day something in him switched it was during the summer before junior year, he made more of an effort. You were always together just like before, sneaking into your room at 3 am to listen to your records and music collection and to say you fell for the idiot all over again was an understatement. 

You fell hard, and maybe it’s because he was showering you with affection and all of his attention that made you get so blown away by him but he was always Steve and always would be. Swallowing the lump in your throat you remembered vividly the last night you two had spoken. 

“Hey, hey uh Y/N what are you doing here?” Steve questioned stupidly as he opened his front door to you. 

“It’s Tuesday? Are we not watching Cheers and eating our body weight in pizza?” You asked teasingly as you wrapped your coat further around your body as you heard Tommy and Carol in the background before a splash in his pool. 

“It’s just a party, I forgot it was Tuesday.” He told you seemingly looking as if he was thinking of something to say but you scoffed. 

“Don’t worry it was my mistake for thinking you actually gave a shit. But schools back up now right? Tommy and Carol are your friends now.” You snapped harshly knowing exactly what Steve was like around those two. 

“It isn’t like that and you know it.” He barked pulling his door closer to him to indicate he really didn’t was you inside, you felt yourself getting sadder as it was so clear that he was willing to drop you all over again. 

“I know exactly what it’s like Steve! God I can’t believe I fell for it! I fell for your whole stupid act all over again and now when you feel like it you’re willing to drop me once again! You’re a real asshole Steve Harrington you know that?!” You yelled shoving him as you felt tears well up in your eyes. 

“Would you listen?” He asked making you look up at him, regret flashed through his eyes as he noticed your own glazed ones. “It really just is a stupid party, just uh me, Tommy and Carol they invited themselves over really and I should have called. But-” He was cut off by a different voice, one that definitely wasn’t Tommy or Carol. 

“Steve? Are you coming back?” The voice was female and soft, and that’s when a stray tear fell, cursing yourself you wiped it away as Nancy Wheeler came into view. 

“Yeah, I’m coming it’s just uh a salesman.” He said as he poked his head back inside stopping her from seeing you, you had scoffed and walked away before he could even turn back to you. 

“Y?N? Y/N wait I can explain-” Cutting him off once again you turned to him fuming. 

“Steve, I don’t care for an explanation. But why? Why do you try and be two different people? And why lie all the time? It’s too complicated for me, there’s only one Steve and it’s not this one so I’m done. With you.” You told him wiping your tears as he reached out for you. 

“No, Steve no. God I can’t believe I fell in love with you, and you can just drop me so easily.” You spat harshly making him step back as if you’d slapped him. 

“Y/N what?” He asked gently finally showing the Steve you knew. 

“It doesn’t matter because I can’t do it anymore.” You told him honestly and that’s when he got angry, like he always does. 

“Well it doesn’t matter to me either, because I have Nancy. So your problem is solved!” He yelled making you nodded slowly feeling your heart finally shatter and you turned around, you couldn’t look at him anymore. 

“Fuck you Steve!” You yelled back at him before just hearing his front door slam closed with force. 

Now sitting in the back of his car you really wished you hadn’t gone for your daily run today, a lot of you heart break and missing Steve turned into hate, you could never hate him but you channel hate into thinking about him just so you don’t give into your feelings again. You couldn’t let yourself do it and well Dustin hadn’t exactly told you about this side of his life and how the hell Steve is involved but you had to stick around for your cousin and for Will Byers. 

Getting to the house you already found Nancy, Jonathon, Will, Joyce Byers and Hopper, frowning at the current situation Nancy looked at you a little bit worried but Mike just told her to not worry. You looked around and your heart fell as you saw Will passed out on the sofa, reaching over to him you stroked some hair out of his face. You remembered babysitting him when he was so much smaller than this but now you hardly recognised him. 

“He’ll be okay.” You whispered to Joyce as she hugged you tightly. But all of this was too much for you, you were stood behind Steve and Hopper petrified as one of those dogs were thrown through the window and a little curly haired girl stepped in with a bloody nose. And then again in a flash you were left in the house with Steve and the kids minus Will.

“Are you okay?” You heard Steve ask as he joined you in the kitchen, looking up at him he really had changed a lot in a year. 

“What do you think?” You snapped as you felt yourself getting emotional again. 

“Look I’m sorry it’s me you’re stuck with me but for the sake of the kids do you think you could not be a bitch?” He asked harshly to which you didn’t even respond but a smaller voice did. 

“Hey, you might not get along but that’s my cousin Harrington only I get to call her names.” You chuckled at Dustin’s words before he put a hand on your back in a some what comforting way. “Look I know you’ve been through a lot this year, with your mom and all but we need your help now. Could you just put whatever it is with Steve behind you and help us?” He asked you seriously making you sigh. 

“I’m happy to help Dusty but I just need to know everything. My head is spinning right now.” And that’s how Steve, Dustin and the party explained everything to you, going back to a year ago now, you were pretty dazed by the end but you stuck around even though you wanted to run out screaming.

 Going out the front for some fresh air you settled on the step with a sigh.

“Can we talk?” You heard Steve say as he sat down next to you on the porch. 

“Sure.” You mumbled tucking some loose curls behind your ear. 

“I’m sorry about what I said to you a year ago, it was one of the biggest mistakes of my life, you know and I think the biggest mistake was not even trying to fix us. I just let you hate me all this time. Guess I wanted you to hate me because I deserved it but I really hate myself for making you hate me.” He blurted out making you laugh, it wasn’t cold or bitter it was a genuine laugh. 

“Do you really think I hate you?” You asked looking up at him. 

“If you don’t you should.” He admitted making you sigh. 

“I can’t hate you. I could never hate you Steve.” You whispered feeling yourself getting upset. “I hate that you chose Nancy, I hate that you let your asshole friends dictate who you were and I hate that you let me leave but, but I don’t think I could ever hate you.” Wiping away another tear he looked down at you so fondly you had to look away because you knew he didn’t feel the same spark and electricity that you did. 

“Me too.” He mumbled making you look up confused.

“What?” 

“I hate that I did all of that too. All I ever wanted to do was run after you that night but, I got drunk and caught up in Nancy. I really thought I loved her but it never once compared to what I felt for you. Never.” Shocked you looked up to him to see if he was lying but there was Steve, your Steve looking down at you. 

“You love me?” You asked pathetically.

“Always have.” He promised making you throw your arms around him and kiss him passionately. “Take that as you still love me?” He joked as you pulled apart. 

“No more King Steve bullshit?” You asked with a raised eyebrow and pink cheeks. 

“Just me, and you.” He whispered placing a much softer kiss on your lips making you smile into it. 

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve imagine #king steve #joe keery #stranger things #stranger things 2 #season 2 stranger things

[bananannabeth]

A Different Kind of Monster

Billy Hargrove seems to have a habit of getting Karen to answer the door in nothing but a robe. Unfortunately for him, she's noticed that he also seems to have a habit of beating his step-sister.

Or The One Where Karen Helps Get Billy Arrested

Read on Ao3

Read the whole series

Karen wasn’t really sure why the Wheeler house became the go-to meeting place for Mike and his friends. They’d sort of flitted from house to house when they were younger; But then Lonnie Byers had left, and Dustin had arrived in town with just his mom, and even though Lucas’s house was right next door, the boys had gravitated to the Wheelers’. When they’d started playing Dungeons & Dragons, Karen had realised that she was never going to get her basement back. The space became Mike’s, and his friends became regular fixtures around their dining table, and that was just how it went.

Those four boys were constants. Mike and Will and Lucas and Dustin, always a group, always causing a mess down in Karen’s basement and always, always the best of friends. Since Dustin’s arrival, no one new had joined. There was never even a flicker of interest in anyone else, never a mention of a new friend or someone else coming round to join in their games. The four of them seemed to be all they needed.

So when Max arrived, Karen was genuinely surprised.

Not only was there a new friend in the group, but she was a girl. Outnumbered four to one, Karen honestly felt a bit sorry for her.  

(Of course, she would find out later that there had been a girl in the group before her, and there would remain another girl in the group after her. Outnumbered four to two was so much better.)

Max was shy, at first; quiet and polite, never one to draw attention to herself whenever adults were around. Sometimes, when Karen walked past the stairs, or went down to get a load of laundry, she’d hear Max bantering with the boys, loud and rough - but she’d always stop as soon as she saw they weren’t alone.

Karen didn’t know much about the Hargroves. They were new to town, having recently moved from California, both parents on their second marriages, and mostly kept to themselves. There were rumours, of course, about what could have drawn them away from sunny beaches and brought them to sleepy old Hawkins, but nothing substantial. Nothing that really told her anything about the family.

She learnt much more by watching Max.  

Sometimes she’d catch a glimpse of red hair flying down the street, and then see Max knocking on the Sinclairs’ front door at all hours of the day and night, skateboard tucked under her arm. They never turned her away.

The boys were all more on edge and alert, now, but Max jumped the most out of any of them at unexpected noises. And while they’d all turn towards the source, eyes wide, she would always flinch away, hands coming up instinctively.

When they were all there for dinner, Karen caught Max marvelling at the way Mike and Nancy bickered, shooting insults at each other one second and then laughing as Nancy held his arm affectionately the next. Her expression was a strange mixture of envy and confusion, but she’d always shake it off before Karen had a chance to mention it.

The picture Karen gathered of the Hargrove family over those first few months wasn’t a nice one.

It got worse, though.

“Mom!”

Karen started, losing her page in the book she was reading, as someone - Nancy - banged on the bathroom door. She would have been annoyed at her for interrupting her bubble bath, had she not sounded so panicked.

“Mom, I need to get to the medicine cabinet!”

“What? Nancy, are you okay?” she asked, quickly stepping out of the bath and putting on her robe. She opened the door to see Nancy with her hand raised to knock again, looking genuinely scared. “What’s going on?”

She spoke at a million miles an hour, voice shaking. “It’s Max, she’s hurt, I don’t know, she won’t say what exactly happened, but Lucas brought her over and we need bandages -”

Nancy pushed past her and rushed over to the medicine cabinet, piling supplies into her arms.

“Bandages?” Karen asked, unable to keep the panic out of her voice.

“It’s bad, Mom.”

Karen tightened her robe and caught a roll of tape as it fell from Nancy’s arms. “Is it - was it something…?” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the question.

Thankfully, Nancy didn’t need her to say it aloud. She shook her head. “I think it was her brother.”

Karen froze. “Her brother?”

She remembered a boy with long hair, chiseled muscles visible beneath an undone shirt, a charming grin and a manner straight out of one of her romance novels, asking her where he might find Max, because he was worried sick about her.

She remembered how nice it had felt to have someone look at her - in nothing but the robe she was wearing now - and like what they saw.

Something sad and choking clawed its way up Karen’s throat.

This wasn’t the type of monster she’d been expecting.

Nancy didn’t respond.

Karen followed her down to the lounge, where Lucas was crouched by the sofa, holding a bag of frozen peas to Max’s face and murmuring quietly to her. Steve was pacing back and forth, one hand in his hair and the other on his hip, expression tight.

“I’ve got bandages,” Nancy announced, and Lucas looked at her like she was handing him the sun.

It was only when he shifted back that Karen was able to properly see Max, and when she did that choking sensation in her throat intensified. Half her face was swollen, an ugly mix of reds and purples, and there was blood leaking from her hairline down over her forehead and into her right eye, which was swollen shut.

Karen gasped, both hands flying up to cover her mouth. “Oh, my god.”

Lucas’s face fell. “What do we do?”

“We kill the son of a bitch,” Steve growled.

“I meant right now ,” Lucas said, desperate. “Do we call an ambulance?”

Max whimpered quietly, and he gently pressed the peas back against her bruised face.

“Call an ambulance, and call Hopper,” Karen said, surprising even herself with how firm she sounded. “Right now, Steve. And Nancy, get some Aspirin.”

Instantly, Steve was gone, running for the phone, while Nancy dropped what she was holding to the ground and searched through it for the painkillers.

Karen stepped cautiously over to the couch, not wanting to startle Max. “Is she conscious?”

“Hey, Ms Wheelr,” Max said in response, words slow and slurred.

“Hi, Max,” Karen said softly, kneeling beside Lucas. “We’re going to make sure you’re okay, all right, sweetie?”

“‘mfine,” Max drawled. Her bottom lip was swollen and split. “‘s jus’ a bruise.”

“Jesus,” Nancy hissed. She handed over the Aspirin and then wrapped her arms around her waist, looking like she was going to be sick.

“You’re being so brave, Max,” Karen continued, scanning her for other injuries. She could see a splotch of color crawling out from under the cuff of her jacket, wrapped around her thin wrist, but this one was stained yellow. God, how long had this been going on? “You’re doing great, okay?”

The bag of peas slipped and Max yelped.

“Sorry!” Lucas exclaimed, quickly righting it. “Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry -”

“Hey.” Nancy was there instantly, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’re okay. You’re doing great.”

Lucas nodded. Tears were running down his cheeks and he’d started shaking. Karen wondered if the initial shock was wearing off.

“Don’ cry,” Max said, her one good eyebrow lowering in concern. “‘sokay.”

“I know,” Lucas said, grabbing her hand. “Sorry.”

“She needs water,” Karen said, craning her head back to look at Nancy.

She nodded and went to get a glass, passing Steve on the way. His eyes flitted between all of them before settling on Karen. “Ambulance and Hopper are on their way.”

“Good, that’s good.” Karen leant forward and gingerly touched the uninjured side of Max’s face, pushing her hair back. A few strands stuck in the blood, and she swallowed thickly as she carefully pulled them free. She wanted to see if she was still bleeding, but she didn’t want to risk hurting her.

“Here.” Nancy returned in record time with a glass of cold water.

They all jumped a mile as the door banged open. Relief flooded through Karen. Hopper was here, Hopper would know exactly what to do, he’d help Max -

But it wasn’t Hopper.

“ Lucas !” Mike screamed, slamming the door shut. “Lucas, we got your message, Code Red, where are you? Lucas, are you -!”

Mike and El froze in the doorway to the lounge. They looked from Max, still lying prone on the sofa, to Lucas, still crying, to Karen, to Nancy and Steve, who were hovering across the room, and then back to Max.

All of the color drained from Mike’s face. “What happened?”

“Billy,” Steve spat.

“He did this?” Mike glowered. He stomped forward, leaning over Karen to get a better look at Max.

“Hey,” she said, looking up at him. “Sorry fo’ gettin’ blood on your couch.”

He almost laughed.

El hung back. She was watching Max closely, her mouth set in a straight line and her eyes dark.

“She’s going to be all right,” Karen assured them. “Hopper’s on his way.”

El’s expression shifted slightly, but she didn’t take her gaze off Max. “How?” she asked, voice low.

Karen looked to Lucas. His fingers twitched around Max’s hand. “I don’t know, she just showed up at my house looking like this… We were supposed to go to the movies…”

“But you’re sure it was her brother?” Karen asked.

Steve answered, “Yeah, this is his M.O.”

She didn’t want to think about the repercussions of that statement. Instead, she focused on gently tilting Max’s head up and holding the glass of water to her lips. “You need to drink this, Max. We’re giving you some pills that will help you feel better.”

Max groaned at the change in angle. “Hurts.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know it hurts. I’m sorry, but this’ll help, I promise.” Karen persisted, still holding the glass at an angle, until Max successfully took a few sips. She gave her the Aspirin, made her drink some more, and then let her lie back.

She moaned. “E’erythin’ hurts.”

Karen looked helplessly out the front window into the night. She wasn’t equipped for this, she was just a mom, she was good for scraped knees and bruised elbows, not… not beatings . The streetlamps illuminated an empty, quiet, suburban street. There was still no sign of Hopper or the ambulance.

Without warning, every light in the room flickered.

“Hey,” Mike said quickly, darting over to El. He grabbed both of her hands and tugged on them until she turned to face him. The lights steadied and remained on. “Hey, it’s okay. She’s gonna be all right, you don’t have to -”

“He hurt her,” El growled. “He’s bad.”

It was the first time Karen had ever seen El’s powers in action. She knew that this was nothing compared to what she was capable of, but it was enough to send a thrill of fear racing down Karen’s spine. Looking at her expression now, she could easily reconcile the girl in front of her with the one in the photo the government agents had shown her, the one whom they said was extremely dangerous. For the first time, Karen started to comprehend why they thought so.

“Yeah, he is, he’s a piece of shit,” Mike agreed, sounding more concerned for El than worried about the power surge. “But Hopper’s going to deal with him, so you don’t have to.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly and her bottom lip dropped. “How?”

Mike shrugged. “I dunno. He’ll arrest him, probably.”

“No!” Max said, jerking violently upright, sending the bag of peas falling to the ground. “He’ll get out an’ he’ll hurt me, he’ll hurt me again -”

“Shh, Max, shh.” Karen and Lucas gently pushed her back down. “You need to rest, you need to lie down.”

“No,” she whimpered, but was too weak to fight. She lay back on the pillows and closed her eyes.

“No, no, no, Max you need to stay awake.” Lucas cupped her good cheek. “Max, come on, stay with us.”

The lights started to flicker again. El looked on the verge of tears, scared and angry and overwhelmed. Mike looked helplessly at Lucas, who was too focused on Max to notice anything else.

“Sorry, I just -” Mike licked his lips, glanced from his friends to his girlfriend and made up his mind. “We’ll be right back.”

He pulled El from the room, their murmured voices still audible, but unintelligible, from the other side of the house.

Max blinked. “Lucas?”

“I’m here, Max,” he replied, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.

Steve asked the question Karen was thinking. “Is El okay?”

Nancy sighed. “I think it’s… bringing back memories.”

As if this day wasn’t already traumatic enough.

The sound of a car roaring down the street halted their conversation. Karen straightened, peering through the curtains as a blue Camaro drove by. It slowed as it approached Lucas’s house, enough that Karen could clearly see the driver even despite the glare of the headlights. She’d only met him once, but it was obviously Billy. He looked straight at the Wheelers’ front door and swerved into the drive.

“Oh, god.” Karen turned quickly from the window. “He’s here.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Steve declared, hands already balled into fists.

“Steve!” Nancy grabbed his arm and hauled him back. “He’s already kicked your ass once, don’t give him another chance.”

Steve spluttered. “Nance, that was - it was - I totally had him! He fought dirty, hitting me over the head with that plate.”

Karen’s hand went straight to her heart. “He hit you over the head with a plate?”

Steve blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, it was… Well, I looked about as good as Max does now, actually.”

“Shuddup,” Max said, almost casual. “I look betta than you did.”

“Yeah, kid, we know,” Steve said softly, crouching down beside her. He gently cradled her face, studying her injuries. “I’m sorry for joking about it, it’s not funny. You know what I’m like when I get nervous.”

Max hummed thoughtfully. Her eyes were glazed, as if she was only half paying attention to what he was saying. “Billy hit me,” she said again, and then added, “Wit’ his car.”

All of the air was sucked from the room.

Steve’s hands froze, hovering an inch above her face. Karen twisted the tie of her robe into knots around her fingers, heart thudding in her chest. In the sudden silence she could hear Mike and El still talking quietly in the other room.

Nancy blanched. “What?”

Lucas was shaking harder than ever. “He hit you with his car ? Like he ran over you?”

“No, like…” Max took a deep, shuddering breath in. “Like behind me. Hit me from behind. I fell off my board.”

“Son of a…” Steve cut himself off, looking away. When he stood, his shoulders were tense. “I’m gonna kill him. I’m going to beat his fucking head in, the piece of shit.”

“Steve,” Max said. She gingerly raised a hand and touched her split lip, wincing when her fingertip came away stained red. “Don’ get beat up fo’ me again.”

A knock sounded on the front door.

The room fell silent, apart from a single, quiet whimper from Max.

“Leave it,” Nancy whispered, clutching Steve’s arm in an attempt to hold him still. “Maybe he’ll go away.”

But Billy knocked again, louder, with more force, and Karen just knew that he wasn’t going to give up.

“I’ll answer it,” she said, sweeping her hair over her shoulder.

“Mom!” Nancy looked aghast. “You can’t, you don’t know what he’s like -”

“Nancy, trust me. I can handle him.” Karen gave her best I am your mother and I know best stare, until her daughter shrank back against Steve’s side.

She straightened her spine and tried to hide her apprehension as she walked to the door. Mike and El were hovering at the end of the hall, watching from around the corner. She waved at them to go join the others out of sight, and they did, despite how worried they both looked.

When Karen swung open the door, she flashed her most charming smile. “Well, hello.”

“Mrs. Wheeler,” Billy said, grinning at her. His eyes remained cold, even as he raked them over her, clad, once again, only in her robe. “It must be my lucky night. What a pleasure.”

She tittered, pretending to be pleased. “The pleasure’s all mine, Billy. What can I help you with?”

Her acting skills must have been better than her childrens’, because Billy’s smile didn’t change at all. “I’m awfully sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for my sister, Maxine? We’ve got a family dinner tonight, you see, and she’s not home, and I’m getting worried. I remembered that your house is the hangout choice, so I thought I’d check here.”

Karen pretended to think, fluttering her fingers against her chin. “No, I don’t think she’s here tonight. Mike left this afternoon, said he was meeting up with his friends… Now where did he say they were going?”

She was trying her best to stall for time, praying for Hopper to arrive, but she could see Billy’s patience was already wearing thin. She let her hand fall to her chest, subtly grazing the edge of her robe, as she hummed thoughtfully. The distraction worked - Billy’s eyes followed the path of her hand, travelling across her collarbone and back up to her lips as she pulled her bottom one up between her teeth.

“Mrs. Wheeler,” he began, voice a little rougher than before.

“Call me Karen,” she said with her sickliest sweet smile.

“Karen,” he said, smiling back at her. “I really appreciate your help, but if you haven’t seen Max I’m afraid I should keep on looking.”

She had to keep him here until Hopper arrived, just a few more minutes. “Silly me! The arcade, that’s where Mike said they were going.”

Billy’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve already checked there. No sign of her, unfortunately.”

“Oh. They must have left already, then.”

He hovered on the front step, glancing over her shoulder. “You’re sure they’re not here?”

“One hundred percent,” Karen lied. “I wish I could help.”

“That’s okay, Karen.” He gave her a sleazy grin. “I’m sure I’ll find her. I just have one quick question, though.”

She batted her eyelashes, playing up the innocent act. Her heart was racing, and all she could think was, Hopper’s coming, Hopper’s coming, Hopper’s coming. “Oh?”

“Who’s is that?” Billy nodded to the jacket hung hastily on the coat rack. It was small, bright yellow, obviously a girly design.

She realised what he was thinking and tried to laugh. She brought a hand up, intending to reach for it, but he lunged forward and curled his fingers around her wrist, trapping her there.

“It’s not Max’s,” she said, breathless with fear. Her bravado was rapidly leaving her, disturbing images of Max’s injuries flashing in front of her eyes, patterns matching to the knuckles going white around her wrist.

“It’s mine.”

Karen craned her neck back to see El standing right behind her, chin lowered and eyes narrowed. She tilted her head to the side, and the pressure on Karen’s wrist instantly disappeared.

Billy screamed and clutched at his hand. “What the fuck?!”

El jerked her chin up and he fell forwards into the hall. Karen barely stepped aside in time, and then the door was slamming shut behind them without anyone touching it.

El stalked forward, pausing only briefly to look at Karen, presumably to check if she was okay, before advancing towards the boy who was more than double her size without any hesitation.

He was struggling, trying to stand, but it was like he was pinned on his back by an invisible force. He started laughing, crazed, and lifted his head to meet her stare.

Mike ran behind her. “El, wait!”

She held out a hand and Mike stopped right beside Karen, at the edge of the entrance hall.

“Stay away from my friends,” El said threateningly, looming over the top of Billy. “Stay away from Max, stay away from Lucas, stay away from Steve. If you go near any of them, ever again, I will hurt you. And I don’t need the bat with nails to do it.”

As if to prove her point, she tilted her head again, and Billy’s laughter was cut off by a howl of pain, his fingers on both hands bent at entirely unnatural angles.

“El!” Mike said, more desperately now.

She looked over her shoulder at him, and everything about her softened. She swiped her sleeve under her nose, wiping away the blood that had fallen there, and came to join him and Karen, leaving Billy curled in a ball behind her.

Finally, finally, a police cruiser pulled up on the curb, blue and red lights flashing through the windows. Seconds later, Hopper was throwing the door open and hitting Billy in the back of the head.

“What’s going on?” he demanded, taking in the scene - Billy, curled on the floor and clutching his head, Karen, standing there in only her robe, shaking and holding her wrist, and Mike and El, both looking at him as if daring him to question them.

Karen swiped the back of her palm across her forehead, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Thank God you’re here.”

“Is everyone okay?” Hopper asked.

“No,” Billy wailed. He sat up, groaning.

“Not you,” Hopper said bluntly. He stepped over Billy and looked right at El.

“He tripped,” she said flatly. “And fell on his hands.”

“Uhuh, I bet he did,” Hopper said, in exactly the same tone.

“Chief,” Karen said quietly, gingerly touching his elbow. He immediately turned his focus to her, eyebrows creased with concern. “He hit Max with his car.”

Mike and El hadn’t heard this, yet, and both looked at her, horrified. “He what ?” Mike exclaimed.

“Right,” Hopper said. A cloud passed over his face, and it was obvious he was trying to approach this as purely the Chief of Police, and not someone with a vested, personal interest in these kids. He took a deep breath, and then got the cuffs off his belt and dangled them over Billy. “You’re under arrest.”

He started reading Billy his rights as the flashing lights outside doubled, the ambulance finally pulling up behind the police cruiser.

Hopper hauled Billy roughly out of the way so Karen could open the door and usher the paramedics through to the lounge, where Max was still lying on the sofa.

The next few minutes were a blur. Hopper loaded Billy into the back of the cruiser, calling for backup as he did so. The paramedics loaded Max onto a stretcher and put her in the ambulance. Lucas wanted to ride with her, but they said he was too young, so Steve volunteered to go in the ambulance while Nancy and Lucas followed in his car.

Karen, Mike and El were left behind, standing to the side and watching it all unfold.

“Is Max going to be okay?” El asked, once the house was empty.

“She’s going to be fine,” Karen replied. “The doctors will check her over and then she’ll go home.”

“Home? With Billy?” El asked, obviously confused and concerned.

Karen hadn’t thought of that. “Oh. Well. I’m not sure.”

“Don’t worry,” Mike said. “He’s probably going to jail, and we’ll make sure Max is safe, wherever she goes. I don’t think Billy will try anything again after today, anyway.”

El smiled, pleased with herself. “You think?”

Mike laughed. “Yeah, you terrified him, holy shit. It was almost as good as that time with Troy.”

“The time with Troy?” Karen asked, raising an eyebrow at them.

“Uh. Well, Mom -”

“Karen.” It was Hopper, hat in hand, standing at the front door. “I need to get a statement, do you mind?”

“Not at all.” She left Mike and El sitting side by side on the sofa and joined Hopper on the front step.

Billy was in the back of the cruiser, Officers Callahan and Powell in front, and it looked like they were having a heated argument despite the fact the two cops had only just arrived on the scene.

Hopper followed her gaze. “Ignore them. Callahan secretly enjoys this part of the job.”

“What, being talked back to?”

Hopper nodded.

Karen laughed. “He should have a kid.”

“God, there’s a terrifying thought.” Hopper smiled, but it fell away as he pulled a notepad from his pocket. “And speaking of terrifying things… Can you tell me what the hell happened tonight?”

She ran him through everything, or as much of the events as she could remember. She tried to be as detailed as possible, tried to make sure that everything was consistent. She didn’t want to make any mistakes or say anything that could negatively impact the case against Billy. When she got to the part where he grabbed her wrist, Karen realised she was shaking, and not from the cold. She hugged her middle, trying to hold herself together.

“It was… It was terrifying, Hop.” The nickname slipped out before she could stop it, and for one horrifying second, Karen thought he was going to call her on it.

Thankfully, he just shook his head and said, “All the shit that goes on in this town, and somehow ordinary people still manage to be some of the scariest.”

He pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and held them out to her. Karen hadn’t had a smoke in a long time, not since before Holly was born, but she took one anyway. If ever there was a time for a smoke, this was it. He lit her up and then lit one for himself, and they stood in companionable silence, blowing smoke into the air.

“You know,” Karen said eventually. “It was El who saved me.”

“I figured. She doesn’t like bullies,” Hopper said easily.

Karen looked up at him. He was staring at the cruiser, expression unreadable. “She’s a great kid.”

He smiled at that. “Yeah, she is.”

“Terrifying when she’s mad, though.”

He laughed, long and loud. “Yeah, yeah she is.”

They lapsed back into silence, until Karen dropped her cigarette. Hopper dropped his and crushed them both under his heel, as she was still barefoot. “Thanks for everything, Karen. I’m glad they had you, tonight.”

His words caught her off guard. She blinked up at him. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did a lot. Don’t discount how much it means to them, just having an adult there who’s willing to help.”

She realised he was speaking about more than just this one night, more than this one problem, and felt a shift in her understanding of the world. She was truly in it, now, as someone any of the kids could turn to if they needed help, with anything. She was responsible for all of them.

There weren’t really words to explain the gravity of how that felt, so Karen just nodded.

Hopper glanced back at the door. “I know it’s a lot to ask after what you’ve just been through, but would you mind looking after El for a while longer, just so I can go back to the station and write this up? I want to get it processed as quickly as possible.”

Karen smiled. “Of course. Of course, it’s no problem.”

Hopper adjusted his hat and started walking back to the empty cruiser, gesturing for Callahan and Powell to go on ahead and take Billy to lock up. He stopped with the car door open and leaned on the top. “What you did tonight was really brave, Karen.”

She didn’t feel brave. She felt terrified, shaken and vulnerable. But she’d tried not to show it in front of the kids, and she supposed that must count for something. “Thanks, Hopper.”

She watched him drive away, wondering what was going to happen to Billy and, more importantly, what was going to happen to Max. El’s worry about her having to return to the same house as her abusive step brother wasn’t unfounded, but Karen vowed then and there to never let that happen. If she needed, Max could come and live with the Wheelers.

After all, she’d heard that their basement was a great place to stay.

#mine #why do you write like you're running out of time? #content warning: physical abuse #billy is such a douchebag urgh #karen wheeler #stranger things #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #mike wheeler #eleven #jim hopper #stranger things fic

[middayfiddler]

Geodes

AO3

Walking feels like being trapped in the joints of a mechanical giant, every movement of the cogwheels and springs resonates deep into his bone marrow. The smell of copper and taste of rot - as if every living being in the world died many years ago and left him to spend eternity counting their bones - and he screams and screams and his own voice echoes on his eardrums thousandfold. It doesn’t sound like his voice anymore. It feels like the darkness around him stole it right from his vocal chords, just like it stole his sight and touch and hearing. He screams and there are no words anymore, because he doesn’t remember what words are. There is no one to call for, no one to save him; and soon there is nothing, nothing anymore.

“And don’t forget,” mom says in her no-nonsense voice over a stack of cardboard boxes under her chin, “bills will be split in half .”

“Sure,” Hopper mumbles, chewing an unlit cigarette. He’s easy to read once one gets over his scary Police Chief exterior; there is no doubt he will pay only half of the bills, just like there is no doubt there will be insane amounts of food appearing in the fridge, followed by a rant about how grateful people bring those to the station to “rot, Joyce, really, and those people are so unrelenting .” Will would know, even if he hadn’t overheard him explain his plan to Mrs. Flo. Will likes Mrs. Flo. She gives him and the boys the donuts she forbade Hopper to eat and pats him on the head in what he imagines is the grandmotherly way.

There are no donuts today. Only reheated chilli and Eggos and whipped cream for El and beer for Hopper, new staples in the Byers’ pantry. It’s good; the changes are good and make Will feel less like something is crawling under his skin.

El doesn’t speak. She is sitting in the living room window, feet with mismatched woolen socks hanging outside and touching long-unmowed grass. Her cuffs are stained with blood from her nose, even though hers and Hopper’s things were mostly light stacks of papers and easily packed onto the backseat of Jonathan’s car. There is something calming in knowing that you can come out of the Upside Down and still be a good person.

Will sometimes doesn’t even feels like a person. Other times, he feels it too much.

“I put El’s things in Will’s room,” Jonathan says and flicks Will’s forehead. It’s how Will wanted it; he keeps on saying that Jonathan’s room is better and has wanted it for years. Everyone pretends they believe him.

Not everyone; El doesn’t. El knows.

Music starts playing and he startles. There used to be no record player in the living room; apparently there is now, and it’s El-controlled and playing something that sounds like music Hopper might have listened to in high school.

Sure it is - Hopper and mom put the boxes away and start dancing in the small space between the sofa and the table, much slower than the rhythm of the song demands. Mom puts the unlit cigarette in her mouth and smiles, her hands on his shoulders and their legs entangled to fit into the space. They look like they belong there, like the space exists just for the two of them to be there at some point in time.

Jonathan leans to his ear and whispers: “Do you think he will arrest me if I tell them to get a room?” and they both laugh, because there is weird and there is supernatural-weird, but then there is the local Police Chief in love with your mother in your living room.

Later, when everything finds its place in the Byers-Hopper house and the record player mysteriously keeps on putting the needle to the start of the record right after it finishes, El is still sitting in the window, although the evening has gone cold and wet with dew. It’s fine with Will; it’s easier to draw people when they are not looking. The neon light from the television screen throws pretty shadows on her back.

“Mike,” she says silently, only for Will to hear.

The boys are not coming until tommorrow. Will cannot see her face, but he’s drawn enough people to recognize the tilt of the head, the posture of shoulders, the level of cheekbones to know when a person is smiling. After the Upside Down, names and people and atoms of matter are more concept than anything else. El originated from there; that’s how language works for her. Will knows. Will understands.

“Yes,” he says, only for Eleven to hear, and it’s good, it’s good, for an evening, everything is so good.

There is fire under his skin, inside his muscles, inside his organs. His body - what used to be him, because what are people without their bodies - is disintegrating into ash, but the ash is still him and it still burns and it still hurts. And he cannot scream, for he has no voice, and he cannot cry, for he has no eyes. And it hurts, it hurts, with pain human bodies were not created to endure.There is something terrible happening - somewhere, out there, outside of the range of his forgotten senses, of his clouded mind, somewhere in the world filled with people he has no remembrance of - but there is the pain-filled nothingness and he’s floating in million pieces and it’s almost - almost - like he’s at peace.

“...and as you’re coming close to the source of the weird sound, you turn to the passage to the right, and there is it - the Sphinx!”

“No, not the Sphinx! Steve! It’s your turn!”

“Ehh...I...hit it with a racing car.”

“You’re a bard, Steve. You don’t have a car.”

“A racing car, kid. And there’s nowhere written in that thing that I can’t have a car.”

“Actually-”

A half-empty pack of Cheetos flies a circle around Will’s head before landing neatly on the kitchen counter. Will looks where El and Max are sitting in the corner of Byers’ living room, Max immersed in Mike’s Atari and El immersed in watching Max play. Both of them claimed they didn’t have enough patience for hours-long campaigns. But Will notices El startling with every monster conquered, every kill claimed. He knows; he will read her bedtime story, after, with everyone gone, a story with happy ending and summer and flowers and little girls with loving fathers.

“How come he rolled eighteen? How does he always roll so high?”

The Sphinx is, indeed, defeated by the wondrous appearance of a racing car. Lucas seems offended on a personal level, while Dustin is attempting to convince Mike to let the whole party into the vehicle and just ride through the dungeon. Steve seems equally confused as he did at the beginning, except now with the enthusiasm of a person unexpectedly accomplishing something.

Mike leans to Will: “When I die, write on my gravestone: Cause of death - My D&D party.”

Will chuckles weakly. They survived unimaginable monsters, other dimensions, possessions and multiple almost-ends of the world, and yet he knows that his - Will’s - cause of death will probably be the warmth of Mike’s breath on his ear, his heart palpitating at the sound of his voice breathy in whisper, his barely suppressed need to turn his head just a tiny, tiny bit to where Mike’s lips are and where they will stop being in the matter of seconds. And, most of all, that he shouldn’t feel any of that.

Will is sure the cause of his death will be one Michael Wheeler.

And then it’s Will’s turn, and he uses magic - reasonable, from the manual - and throws twenty, then he miraculously keeps throwing twenty again and again while Steve’s character obtains a nailed baseball, a flamethrower and a flying racing car. Steve is banned from playing as a bard ever again by common decision, which Mike repeats to Will’s ear in that certain kind of whisper. Will wants to run away, but he doesn’t, because they are winning and Mike gives him a half-hug and a smile.

And if a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows inconspicuously lands in front of Will sometime during the campaign, well, no one seems to take notice.

The neon arcade sign is turning slowly in the nightmare-tinted night. There is snow falling, and it tastes like ash, but the ash tastes like despair and fear and he is alone, alone, alone. The pavement is empty and cracked, as if all the people on the Earth just decided that since this minute, he’s not worthy of being one of them, of being in their material, fluctuant, erratic presence. He isn’t, maybe; there is no one to ask, and his screams return to him thousandfold, unanswered. Stay with me, he hears the clouds whisper, and the trees and the walls and the grass under his feet (have they always had a voice? he can’t remember; yet their whisper is familiar, and calming, and enticing at the same time; he’s heard it before, somewhere). You belong here, with us, they say. His hands are covered with lichen, his lungs full of spores that will grow into vines through his respiratory tract, he’s becoming one with this other world. Maybe I do, he wants to say, but there are no mouth anymore to make a voice.

The girl is called Donna. She was in his English class last year, and Mike’s mom sometimes goes to her mom to get her hair done.

Will disliked her the moment she came to ask him to dance, then disliked her more when Mike’s hand touched his elbow only to push him to the dancefloor. He hated the way her waist felt under his fingers - curved in premonition of woman to come, pliant and criss-crossed with the humpy lines of her blouse seams. And he hated, hated so much the look in her eyes, when she leaned to his cheek - the same way the couples around them were doing, the same way Mike and Eleven were doing, and Will’s eyes are burning and his throat is itching with bile and he wants to look away and can’t - and whispered: “You’re too obvious, Zombie Boy. Tone down the staring on Wheeler.”

She’s waiting for him by his locker now. Her eyes are following him from under eyelashes painted black and curled. He is almost sure he can hear the thoughts of the passing students; it’s the way they wordlessly agreed, back then, from behind fake smiles and eyes straying sideways. It was infinitely easier to start rumours than to wait for another ones to be started.

Will doesn’t want to be here. The boys are probably in the AV room already, with Max pretending not to be fascinated by the machinery and El - Jane now, at school always Jane Hopper - training her reading by syllabizing the Heathkit manual. It doesn’t seem to matter; not wanting to be where he is seems to be Will’s perpetual, unavoidable state of mind.

“I kissed Maggie Thompson,” Donna says. She’s wearing the ugly ribbon headband all the girls seem to wear this year, and her farce of a smile is more forced than usual.

“Congratulations,” he says. “How did it happen?”

“She saw Rick Jordan kissing some girl behind the church,” she says. “I told her he was an asshole. And that we could practice kissing.”

Will thinks that if they weren’t standing in the school hall, with a carefully crafted image to keep, she would be crying.

“Was it-”

There is nothing to say, really, and if there was, Will wouldn’t know. I would never do that , he could say and doesn’t.

“We don’t have much choice, me and you,” she says carelessly and the ribbon moves from side to side like a trapped moth; but there is sadness in her eyes, the sadness of a person who knows that some things will never change. Will recognizes it. It’s the sadness on Hopper’s face, when he forgets to go to sleep and stares at the out-of-reception TV in the hours before dawn; it’s the one his mom tries to hide when she’s looking at him. He doesn’t want to know what his own face looks like when he’s not careful. He has a hunch; it always mirrors in Mike’s eyes, wide and scared and full of unreasonable resolve to shield his friends from any harm. Will knows that falling out of love with him would be impossible, even if he tried.

“Maybe you should tell someone,” Donna says. She’s put her head on his shoulder. Wetness is soaking into his sweater, but she doesn’t sob or hiccup and maybe it’s just his own sweat. Will can hear some girls go “awww” in the hallway and they are both good at lying, so good. “After something like this, there is no way back.”

Will pats her on the back. He will not; his mom knows, maybe, and El for sure. He’s not sure either of them knows what it means. It feels like there are many people living inside Will, some of them still trapped in the Upside Down, some of them in the labyrinth of the Mind Flyer, some of them in the 80’s Indiana. Neither of them is a particularly good place to be.

He’s a hero, Mike said once, and so he has to be.

“I know,” he says, because people like them are both great at lying and terrible at it.

It’s a game of chase or being chased. And his legs are tied and his eyes are blindfolded; he’s touching the walls, but the walls are shifting and right is left and up is down and the end is the beginning and all is the same. Run, run, run, he’s calling, or maybe it’s his mind or maybe someone else.

It’s not him. Someone else is being chased; he’s just standing inside it all, unmoving like a stalactite, with eyes closed and yet still seeing. He sees shadows and the light that brought them to life. He sees the shadows move. They have bodies and limbs and look like someone had drawn them on a piece of paper and left it outside during rainpour. He wants to touch them, feel their ethereal existence on his fingertips, but his fingers are blocks of ice and he cannot move. Someone is talking, but the words - mother, friend, his own name - the words have no meaning. They are but an entropy of sounds and the sounds are hurting his ears. His ears are bleeding, but they are bleeding crystals of frost. It’s pretty, white and glistening and dead, and thus harmless.

Run, run, run, someone calls, but he cannot recall what it means.

Jonathan is home from New York and Nancy from Indianapolis, which is as good reason as any for everyone being gathered in the Byer-Hopper’s living room.

The room did not get any bigger since the last time; if something, it got only more cramped, with Hopper’s new armchair and El’s blanket fort she doesn’t allow to be taken down. It does not seem to matter to anyone. The painted letters are hidden under the new pink wallpaper; the drawing of Bob was taken down last year together with all the other Will’s drawings.

The stories are being told that Will has heard thousand times before; but it’s what is connecting all these people beside unconditional love for each other, and Jonathan has no stories from the college to tell and Nancy pretends to have none. How Mike wanted to attack a perpetrator with a candlestick. How Dustin locked a demodog in Henderson’s cellar using a trail of ham. How Hopper made a random kid sell him the whole stack of Halloween candy. The last one is new; it feels nice to hear a story no one else has been present to. It feels less like standing behind a glass wall, watching everyone assuring themselves that what happened was but a series of unfortunate, maybe entertaining events. Mike is laughing and Dustin chokes on his Coke; Steve pats him on his back and jokes that he should have become a kindergarten teacher instead of Hopper’s assistant.

A finger is put between Will’s eyebrows.

“Bad lines,” El says, reaching from her favorite chair near the record player. Her curls are hidden under Hopper’s police hat and she’s got whipped cream on her upper lip.

“Wrinkles,” Will corrects her.

“No. Bad lines. Go away.”

Will smiles. She’s whispering; she’s been taught concept of privacy and concept of things not being talked about loud, and that’s how Will knows she’s not trying to learn a new word. Mike was right, back then - El understands, understands everything, without unnecessary words, as if they were born from the same womb. And, like any other older brother, he pretends to be oblivious.

“Full sentences, El, remember?”

She shakes like an annoyed cat, but complies. “I don’t want you to be sad.”

He wants to say that he’s not; her eyes slide to Steve, recounting some event Will recognizes and doesn’t care about, then stop at Mike - smiling, happy Mike, with his long legs folded carefully under the coffee table and wonderful ability to see through Will’s lies, but not through what Will doesn’t say at all. He doesn’t say anything. She knows, of course she knows.

“I’m sorry,” he says, even though he knows it carries concepts El didn’t grasp yet, like being sorry for things that don’t hurt anyone. So he crosses his eyes to look at her finger, still stuck to his forehead, and makes her laugh. He pinches her nose and pretends to point out her own wrinkles and teases her about her hair like any other brother would and ignores her pointed looks amidst the bursts of laughter and what they mean.

Hopper is telling a story about when El started calling him Dad. He’s looking at El fondly, like his own heart was sitting before him, materialized into a curly, gangly girl. El sends him her mostly eaten plate of waffles and then hugs him, when she remembers that’s how other people show affection.  Will looks at Mike, still smiling, still happy, still here, still Mike, who looks at him with eyes full of unreadable thoughts. Will figures that maybe not tomorrow or the next year, but one days things will be how they were made to be.

He’s been burnt to ash and put back together; he’s been frozen, his veins blocks of ice under his skin wrinkled like that of old man who forgot to die; he’s been turned into atoms and wandering without hearing and sight and remembrance of who he used to be. And he was scared, in the way one is scared of death or pain or getting lost in the dark and not finding way back.

He’s alone now.

The landscape is that of desolation, of oblivion, of loneliness permeating every molecule of being. There is moss on the walls, dust on the pavement, crumbling stones under his fingers; the skies are empty, as if moon and stars were too much of companions for him. He doesn’t try to scream anymore. He knows there is no one to help, no one at all.

Something touches him, something shakes him. It’s not good; he wants to stay in this quiet, peaceful world, before something else, something more terrifying will come. Something touches him again and he recognizes the pattern of fingertips, recognizes the heat of human skin, recognizes the voice calling for him in desperation and panic. He recognizes his own name and that there are words that his throat can say and that the words can belong to him.

He opens his eyes.

“I’m having nightmares.”

They are sitting on the edge of the quarry, legs hanging toward the water-filled depths. The earth is still a bit too cold to be sitting on, and the breeze seeps through their jackets, but it’s good. It’s spring, and bad things don’t happen in spring.

Will doesn’t turn. There is something mesmerizing about the quarry, about how the sky and water seem to be one and the same. Mike’s breath is on his nape, even though it has no business being there.

“What are they about?”

Mike’s breath hitches. His hand moves on the gravel towards where Will’s rests. It’s warm; the inch of space between their fingers holds whole universes in their hopeless infinity. Will considers crossing it, less because he longs to, and rather because he doesn’t want to listen anymore.

“About you,” Mike says.

There’s the sound of universes shattered, galaxies broken to dust. Will is not El; he doesn’t think he was born a monster or made into one. He doesn’t have nightmares of regimens of people bleeding from their eyes and mouth and writhing in pre-mortal agony, the ones that always wake everyone up and Hopper hugs her until she calms and then hugs Will, too, just for good measure. A small part of his mind - the one that daydreams of school dances and ice cream parlor dates and a world different from the one outside - is pleased that Mike’s dreaming about him.

“Am I hurting you?” he asks anyways.

Mike startles, like the idea never crossed his mind, not now and not before.

“No!” he says and his hand brushes Will’s and maybe, just maybe it was deliberate. “No, nothing like that! It’s just…”

His hand grips Will’s in a spasmic, panicked movement; it’s warm and shaking and it feels like it longs to permeate the skin and the flesh and become one with Will.

“I am you,” Mike whispers. “I’m in the Upside Down and I see the Mind Flayer, and I’m the Mind Flayer, and the Spy, and I’m trapped and alone and no one is coming for me- Oh, God, Will, I’m so sorry, so sorry- “

Will kisses him.

There’s a constellation of freckles that looks like Orion but turned upside down, and it stands out against the pale skin. Mike’s hug is different from Hopper’s - he still has years to come to grow into his limbs - and Will doesn’t remember when it happened. It doesn’t matter; there’s Mike’s cheek under his lips, and it’s warm, the whole world is warm as if all the suns died and were reborn anew again.

“I know,” he hears Mike say, and of course he knows, because he’s Mike and Mike knows .

And before Will apologizes or runs away or throws himself down to the quarry - because now, he is no better than Donna, now, he’s done the worst thing and there is no way back and he doesn’t even regret it - he feels Mike’s cheekbones move and his lips open and he doesn’t have to look to know he’s smiling.

“I’ve always known,” Mike says and the Will in his eyes seems more real than Will himself; and that’s how Will knows that everything is fine and everything is good. He thinks that if this is how it ends, then maybe - just maybe - it was all worth it.

There is white and hospital smell; there is headache and blurry figures.

There is a head of black hair and striped shirt and voice he recognizes.

There is a feeling like his heart is about to burst out of his chest.

That’s the one he knows; he’s been feeling it for a long, long time.

#byeler #byler #stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #i'm not from USA so i might have gotten stuff wrong #and i've never written for such a big fandom i'm scared