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steveharringtonisabisexualmess · 2 years

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Good things fall apart - harringrove

By: steveharringtonisabisexualmess

Inspired by: haileybaileycosplay on tiktok

Somehow, Steve thinks that Robin knows that something is wrong. Maybe it was the way his voice sounded when he had called her, all emotional and cracking at the edges, or maybe she had picked up on the way he had been acting for the past two weeks, all down in the dumps and slumping at the shoulders, skipping class more than usual and arriving late for work. Steve hadn't a clue, but for once, she stopped herself from teasing him about the new song he had written.

Steve is already in the music room when Robin arrives, an ecstatic Dustin walking behind her wearing a massive grin. He's twirling his drumsticks between his fingers, wearing that usual dorky hat that kept his curls at bay. "What's the new song?"

"I don't want to go into the details, here's how I want you to play." Is all Steve says before handing the two seperate pieces of paper covered in scribbled handwriting.

Robin and Dustin share a look, but shrug, taking their stances behind their instruments whilst Steve sets up the microphone, fidgeting with the cord anxiously. And when they start playing, when Steve starts singing, Robin can sense the sadness behind Steve's words. Can hear just how broken he felt about whomever it was he was singing about.

"Did I say something wrong? Did you hear what I was thinking? Did I talk way too long when I told you all my feelings that night? Is it you? Is it me? Did you find somebody better? Someone who isn't me, 'cause I know that I was never your type. Never really your type.." Whispers Steve, voice so soft, so quiet, so heartbroken and sad Robin's heart fucking aches. "Overthinking's got me drinking. Messing with my head, whoa.."

Sucking in a deep breath, Steve allows his voice to grow louder, allows his worries to flow away and his eyes to flutter closed. "Tell me what you hate about me. Whatever it is, I'm sorry. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I know I can be dramatic. But everybody said we had it. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm coming to terms with a broken heart. I guess that sometimes good things fall apart."

"Look, Harrington. I told you I didn't do this lovey dovey shit. I told you this wouldn't work. So why the fuck are you so upset?"

"Maybe because I thought you actually fucking cared about me. Cause I thought, hm, maybe I could be the one to show you what love feels like, could show you how you are meant to be treated. But no. I was nothing but a fucktoy for you."

"When you said it was real, guess I really did believe you. Did you fake how you feel when we parked down by the river that night? That night?" Unbeknownst to the heartbroken teenager, a familiar figure was standing in the doorway of the music room, clutching her books to her chest and chewing at her lower lip in guilt. "That night when we fogged up the windows in your best friend's car. 'Cause we couldn't leave the windows down in December. Whoa." Steve holds the note, voice cracking and hands shaking with emotion.

"Don't twist my words, princess."

"Do not fucking call me that."

"I don't know what you want me to say."

Nancy disappears off down the hallway, deep into the shadows, shaking her head. Steve takes absolutely no notice, back now turned towards the door to take in Robin and Dustin's faces. Robin looked sad and Dustin seemed oblivious, grinning as he brought the sticks down against the drums, rocking his head to the rhythm.

"That you actually love me, that you care about me-"

"Well, I don't. I don’t love you. You were just a warm body for me to go to when I needed a release. Are you happy?"

“Fuck you!”

Tears were pooling in Steve's eyes, desperate to fall and relieve him from the pain that was swirling through his gut. He relents, however, only allowing the tears to affect his voice as he continues to sing, eyes squeezed shut.

All Steve can remember after that is punching Billy in the face, screaming at him to get out of his house and out of his life. He seems to have blocked everything else out. Blocked out the way he had dropped to his knees, screaming and howling and sobbing, punching his fists into the tiled floors until blood and bruises covered his knuckles. Blocked out the way his heart fucking broke at the thought of Billys words. At the thought of everything they had been through, every kiss, every soft ‘I love you’ was all fake. Blocked out the way that this felt like all of his fault. Locked it away deep within his soul to not have to feel that same heartache ever again.

Why did he think that Billy would be any different from what he was last year? Why did he think that he, Steve Harrington, the absolute dumbass, could change someone like Billy.

Billy who was a toxic, verbally abusive motherfucker. Billy who was stone cold and unafraid to raise his fist in warning. Billy, who was, truth be told, different when it was just the two of them. He was.. sweet. As sweet as he could get, really. But he was, he really truly, was sweet and gentle and loving. He'd caress Steve's cheek so carefully, kiss his lips so softly, hold him so tight and so close as they slept.

Of course Steve knew that would never be shown to the rest of the world. Outside of their nights together inside of Steve's sad and quiet home, Billy was aggressive, was horrible and shouted slurs through the halls to make his buddies grin. Steve felt disgusted seeing Billy that way. How he could so very easily change his attitude as soon as they entered Hawkin's high. From kissing Steve goodbye as they split ways to their seperate cars, to shoving Steve into some lockers in the hallways and making Robin's books he was carrying fall to the floor.

It hurt. Of course it did. It fucking ached and stabbed at Steve's heart at the thought of the person he used to despise, the person he now loves, loved, could be completely different without the safety net of the privacy of Steve's home.

Steve understood it had to be that way, it was the eighties and Billy's dad was not someone Steve wanted to mess with, Not with the amount of times Billy has shown up at his front door, cheeks stained with tears and nose bleeding and lip busted. But there was some part of Steve that wished for things to be different.

And when the song has ended and Steve finally turns around, he just catches sight of the familiar blonde curls of Billy's mullet facing him, walking away at a fast pace, shoulders hunched slightly. Steve's heart leaps into the back of his throat, hands shaking and eyes burning with further tears. Why the fuck did Billy seem upset?

Before Steve can ponder on the thought any longer, Dustin is throwing himself at him, laughing and cheering. "That was so good, dude! Like- holy shit. Breakup songs are your forte."

Forcing himself to laugh, Steve smiles softly. "Thanks man." He clears his throat, ruffling Dustin's hat and making him grumble in annoyance.

"Agreed." Robin cuts in. "That about Nancy?"

Steve shakes his head before he can stop himself. "No.. no.. someone else."

He drifts out of the conversation, eyes unable to stop from staring out into the now closed door, desperate to know as to why Billy was there, listening.

#bisexual steve harrington #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve x billy #steve harrington angst

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yikesharringrove · 3 years

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It’s a book Steve’s actually read.

Well, Nancy kinda mostly read it to him. Which really just makes the whole thing hurt a little bit more.

His speakers were crackling and he had turned the bass up high enough that the song was distorted, vibrating through his car.

It was embarrassing. Scream-singing to Kate Bush while sobbing into your steering wheel in the high school parking lot.

He’s just got a lot of feelings, and Nancy dumped in that alleyway, he can literally see it and Heathcliff, it’s me, I’m Cathy. I’ve come home, I’m so cold.

Which, it’s all just bullshit. Pardon the word.

Because, Catherine and Heathcliff don’t even fucking end up together. There’s something about family difference and he remembers Nancy saying socioeconomic like that word meant anything to him and Catherine winds up dead of bad brain-itis and Healthcliff is a dick so they never should’ve been together anyway.

But, whatever.

He’s feeling very much like Catherine right now. Standing on the moors with a broken heart.

Because fuck Heathcliff. And fuck Nancy.

Kate Bush is the only one he can trust anymore.

Her and her red dress and Steve’s insides feel like that red fucking dress in a way he can’t explain and Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window-

He just about jumped out of his skin when the passenger door opened.

One too-tan hand reached out to crank the volume down on the song, and a too-pink tongue slid across too-white teeth and

“Harrington, I’m obligated to tell you that you’re acting like a pussy.”

Hargrove.

Y’know, he’s the top of Steve’s Fuck List. Right there with Nancy and Heathcliff, and everyone else who sucks shit and makes people feel bad.

“Can it, dickhead.”

To be fair, Steve was ugly crying to Kate Bush by himself in his car, but he’s allowed to be a pussy by himself in his car.

Hargrove just gave Steve a look that Steve’s pretty sure meant I’m resisting the urge to punch you in the face right now, but was undercut by that stupid fucking tongue of his lolling around like some kinda hyper-sexual golden retriever.

Meanwhile, Kate Bush was still singing and Steve was still Cathy on the moors.

“I’m fucking sad, or whatever. Let me be a pussy.”

“Oh, come on, Harrington. You really this cut up about some prissy little princess? She’s not even the best this town has and that is saying something.”

“Y’know, for a guy that’s constantly calling all the girls in town ugly, you sure do fuck a lot of ‘em.”

“At least I’m getting some. When was the last time the princess put out, eh? Or was she savin’ it for marriage? I could see her bein’ one of those types.”

He said those types like he wasn’t wearing a saint’s pendant around his neck. Like Steve didn’t see his family all sitting uncomfortably silent together in the diner after mass every single Sunday afternoon.

It was weird, seeing Billy in a nice shirt. All buttoned up properly with his hair looking all respectful. Especially since Steve was usually high off his ass and slurping down a strawberry milkshake with cheese fries like he’d die if he didn’t.

“I’m not gonna talk about my sex life with you, Hargrove.”

“Aw, why not, Harrington. Don’t wanna compare body counts? You embarrassed or something?” Billy was grinning that shitty sharp grin of his, still waggling his fucking tongue as he leaned closer to Steve. “You still a virgin, King Steve?”

The song ended. Steve rewound the tape. It started up again.

He needed Kate now more than ever.

“Of fucking course I’m not. I’m just not some gross asshole that goes around telling everyone who’ve I’ve fucked. It’s called being a decent guy.”

“It’s called being a prude. Now, c’mon. Tell me who’ve you fucked. Maybe we’re tunnel buddies.”

Steve wanted to throw up. Kate was on the moors again.

“You’re disgusting. Tunnel buddies. How gross can you even get?”

“I hope that’s a rhetorical question.”

“I don’t know what that means and you’re a shithead.”

Hargrove tossed his head back and laughed, showing off those teeth that looked like they could take a chunk out of Steve’s flesh if Billy got close enough to try.

You had a temper like my jealousy. Too hot, too greedy.

“Seriously, though.” Billy had stopped laughing. “What is this shit?”

“She’s Kate Bush and she speaks to my heart.”

Billy just stared at him.

Yeah, that was a pretty pussy thing to say.

“I just got fucking dumped, dude. Let me be sad about it,” Steve backpedaled.

And then Billy did something very unexpected.

Well, he did something very normal for his character, and then he did something unexpected.

He lit up a cigarette.

And then passed it to Steve.

Steve filled up his lungs with a thick drag of smoke. He held it for as long as he could.

Which was really long.

Swimmer’s lungs. And that.

He blew out the smoke. Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window.

“Is this fucking song based on Wuthering Heights?”

“Yeah, you dumb dumb. It’s fucking called Wuthering Heights.”

“Okay, dumb dumb, I clearly don’t even know this song.”

“Maybe you’d be less of an ass if you did. Dumb dumb.”

Billy lit a cigarette for himself, letting the smoke trail out of his mouth like he was some kind of dragon.

Billy probably fancies himself a dragon. Thinks he’s this big scary creature that just goes around breathing fire and ransacking villages for their gold.

Ooh, it gets dark, it gets lonely on the other side from you. I pine a lot, I find the lot falls through without you.

Really, he’s probably like a dog of some kind.

Domesticated.

“You’re staring at me.”

Yeah. Steve was staring at him. Watching him smoke while Kate Bush played loudly. The speakers still sounded like shit even though Billy had turned down the song considerably.

Steve didn’t know when he had stopped crying.

Probably right when Billy had let himself into his cave of self pity, but his face was still wet.

He wiped it off, not pointing out that Billy had been staring at him too.

“Why are you here so late? Practice ended like, an hour ago.”

Billy shrugged lamely. He kinda looked like a little kid.

Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window.

“Bored. Didn’t feel like being home.”

“So you came to sit in the break-up mobile with me. How nice.”

“Mostly I just wanted to make fun of you for listening to this garbage. I could hear it across the lot.”

And sure enough, Billy’s car was parked a good ways down from Steve, about as far away as their two cars could be from one another.

Steve doubts Billy heard Kate all this way, but what’s he gonna do, bring that up?

No. He’s rather sit in this weird silence that settled between them, feeling awkward about himself and his body and listen to Kate.

I'm coming home to wuthering, wuthering, Wuthering Heights

“She’s not worht it, y’know.”

Steve had to do a double take to make sure it was still Billy sitting in his passenger seat, and not some cheap imposter wearing a Billy-suit and saying almost nice things to Steve in a not-mean voice.

“What’d you say earlier? Plenty of bitches in the sea?” Steve would’ve laughed at that comment when Billy made it if they weren’t naked together.

There’s something things you don’t do while naked with another guy, and laughing just isn’t one of them.

Plus, he had been a little too focused on figuring out why Billy’s nudity had given him that same hot feeling that nearly seeing Rob Lowe’s dick in The Outsiders movie gave him last year.

“I mean, it’s true. Don’t sweat this break-up. She seemed like an uptight bitch anyway.”

“Hey.”

Steve was still a little too sore, a little too fresh from the split to trash talk Nance like that.

“Whatever. Get high. Look at some porn. You’ll be fine.”

Ooh, let me have it. Let me grab your soul away.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Silence again.

Kate was back to the chorus.

The song was almost over.

“You could always go on the rebound. get her out of your mind with someone that’ll actually put out.”

Hargrove had barely even said it before he was yanking Steve forward, giving him no time to prepare as their mouthed smooshed together in something that was very very awkward, and very very sloppy.

Steve still had tears on his cheeks, and his cigarette was getting dangerously close to the filter, threatening to burn his fingers, and Kate was still singing, and Billy was kissing him, and dear God Steve’s at least a little bit gay.

Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window.

They drifted apart from one another just in time for Steve to rewind the song again.

“So, uh, yeah,” Billy said, and his cheeks were this wonderful shade of red, and Steve couldn’t stop thinking about Kate’s red dress and that fucking kiss and he was on the moors again, but this time he and Billy were making out in the grass and oh fuck, oh fuck-

“Yeah. Good.”

“Good?” Billy raised on of those dark eyebrows at him, his cheeks still burning.

“Good. Very good.”

Billy nodded a few times, sucking on his cigarette. Steve suddenly remembered he had dropped his on the floormates and tried to stamp it out before it got singed to bad.

“Okay then. Good.” Billy opened the passenger door, stepping out and flicking away his cigarette. He seemed to think for a moment, before turning around, leaning his upper body into Steve’s car.

Steve thought they were going to kiss again.

He was ready to go for it, ready to let his eyes close and maybe let it lead to more. He was Cathy and he was ready for some action.

But Billy just grinned again.

And skipped the song.

#yes i know when nancy and steve break up billys only been in town for like three days but its my fic and ill make up a timeline if i want to #yeah i call people dumb dumb all the fucking time so i had to put it in #this idea came from me listening to this song on a loop for fifteen minutes in the parking lot before work and crying before going in to wor #k #also i've never read wuthering heights everything i know abt it is from the song and this one fic i read that mentioned it #also the way that this is probably technically a song fic #i hate it #yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #this is so self indulgent omg

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blue-fidelity · 3 years

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~ “Smile in the face of Tragedy”

Chapter 2: New King

Pairings: Billy Hargrove x Henderson!reader, Steve Harrington x best friend! reader

Chapter Summary:

A wild night reveals secrets and broken hearts. At least Billy & (Y/N) have each other.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, drunk!Billy, sad!Steve (that is a warning 🥺)

“(Y/N)! It’s Halloween!”- Halloween? (Y/N) woke up to the sound of her brother yelling excitingly. If she wasn’t mistaken, she could hear the Ghostbusters theme playing loudly from Dustin’s room. She groaned, burying her head in her pillows while running her hands through her hair.

This is not how she planned to wake up this morning.

Before closing her eyes to regain a little more sleep, her alarm clock looked her right in the face. 7:15. Another groan came from her. Perk up (Y/N), it’s your favourite holiday! She pushed herself up, swinging her legs on the side of the bed. (Y/N) definitely knew the high school students weren’t going to be wearing costumes to school. So before Billy picked her up, she’d head home to get changed.

Billy- (Y/N) didn’t think she’d be able to forget yesterday. The way he held her, the way he kissed her forehead. His embrace was so comforting- she nearly melted into him. The smell of dry cigarette smoke and cheap cologne haven’t been able to leave her senses. It was like everything that came with him, it was intoxicating, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

As she stepped out of bed, she moved her hips slightly to the music coming from her brother’s stereo. When she made it to her drawers, she contemplated what she should wear today. Just because she wasn’t going to wear a costume, didn’t mean she couldn’t look spooky, right? She grabbed her “Chistine” t-shirt, it was one of her favorite horror movies. Pairing it with a black acid wash skirt, some fishnets, and her usual chuck taylors, she strutted confidently out her bedroom door.

She walked into the bathroom to find Dustin clad in his Stantz costume, brushing his teeth. He looked so cute! “Hey Doctor Stantz, ‘lookin pretty badass”, she grinned, patting him on the back. “Thanks (Y/N)! I can’t wait to see the guys in their costumes, Halloween’s gonna be so great!”, he cheered, spitting out his tooth paste. He quickly ran out of the room to fetch breakfast, leaving (Y/N) time for her hair & makeup.

Bright red lipstick and heavy black eyeliner, hair slightly curled.

When she stepped into the living room, she saw her mom enthusiastically taking polaroids of Dustin. She couldn’t help but smile, hoping her mom would save her some for her picture board. (Y/N) sat on the couch beside her cat Mews, scratching the back of his ears as he purred in contentment. She giggled at the various poses her brother made in front of the camera.

Her mom had finally stopped taking photos, noticing her on the couch. “(Y/N) darling! I didn’t see you come in, can I get a photo of my two children?”, she questioned, looking at her with pleading eyes. (Y/N) couldn’t say no! “Of course!”, she said, standing up from the couch.

She placed an arm around Dustin’s shoulders, teasingly taking him in a headlock, rubbing her nuckles on his hair. To this he laughed, playfully pointing his fake proton blaster at her. It was the perfect picture. Perfectly trapped in the moment of two great siblings, simply having a good time.

(Y/N) gathered her things, making sure to take one of her mom’s homemade muffins for breakfast. She had made them a couple days before, but they still were delicious. Even though (Y/N) desperately needed coffee, she decided against it. She was already running a bit late, and as much as she hated the stale stuff from the cafeteria, it’d have to do. Dustin had already slipped out the door to head off on his bike, he really must’ve been eager to see his friends.

Before making her way to her motorcycle, she slipped her jean jacket on and hugged her mom goodbye. Claudia looked at her intently, ruffling her curled hair. (Y/N) rolled her eyes playfully, “Alright mom, I gotta go! ‘I’m gonna stop here after school though, k?”, she opened the front door. “Okay have a good day sweetie! ‘I’ll see you before your party!”. (Y/N)’s mom knew about the party, whether she knew there was going to be alcohol involved, it was better off not knowing.

Sliding the keys into the ignition, she sped off to the school. She could never get enough of the mysterious backroads of Hawkins. It scared her, obviously. With all the things that happened the previous year, she couldn't help but wonder if things still lurked in the depths of the forest, hiding till they could strike. Waiting and waiting till they can catch someone else and drag them to that horrible place. Her body trembled at the thought of it. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the memories. Eyes turning back to the road, she removed one of her hands from the handles, trying to reach for the button of her stereo. It had turned onto some random radio station that was playing Halloween tunes.

“Happy Halloween ‘Morning Ghouls and Goblins of Hawkins! Here’s a spooky throwback from ‘1982 for y’all on this fine dreary morning, ‘Blood Bitch’, by Cocteau Twins!” - the radio host introduced, was he really supposed to swear on radio? Well, no one really had a filter these days.

The song added to the eerie atmosphere of the cold morning, making her uneasy. She pushed through her thoughts, trying to just focus on getting to school. It was Halloween! No need for being pent up on past trauma. The station had eventually turned to a happier song, putting her in a better mood. What better to put a smile on your face then the ‘Time Warp” from The Rocky Horror Picture Show? She bobbed her head happily to the familiar tune, singing along to the lyrics.

School today had been an absolute drag! Last period (math) was nearly done and (Y/N) was desperate to get out. She could see some of her mutuals were anxious as well, probably too excited to wait for the party tonight. She was excited as well, maybe a little bit of the fact that she’d be spending more time with Billy?

(Y/N) would hate for him to think she’d be using him as a rebound. Even though it seemed that way, she really should’ve forgotten about her feelings for Steve awhile ago. (Y/N) really loved Steve, but he’d always been so oblivious, but- that was just Steve. He would’ve never known of her feelings if she didn’t tell him. Which she never did, in fear of obvious rejection. Then here was Billy Hargrove, whether it be his flirtatious nature, she could see herself really falling for him. The one thing she knew she wouldn’t do was dive in too quickly. She wouldn’t make the same mistakes, for her and for Billy’s sake.

She was finally released from the rechedouness that was her math class-running straight out the door right as the bell rang, nearly having winded Mr. Henry. After taking a quick stop at her locker, she walked outside to find her motorcycle. (Y/N) was nearly there till a skateboard hit her feet, stopping her in her tracks.

“I’m so sorry! It slipped right out from under me-” a voice of a young girl called, her breath shaky. (Y/N) looked down at the girl shuffling to grab her skateboard, she had never seen her before. The mysterious teen with the red hair looked around her brother’s age, so why was she so unrecognizable? Wait- could it be?

Billy’s step sister.

“Hey, hey it’s all good!”, (Y/N) gave her a reassuring smile. “Hey- not to sound weird or anything-”, she chuckled nervously, “But, are you new here? ‘You see I got a younger brother ‘about your age, and you got an unfamiliar face”. The girl stared at her skeptically, but still replied. “Yeah, just moved here from ‘California, what are you ‘looking to set him up or something?” she questioned sarcastically. ‘Damn she was quite the firecracker. “Nah frankly I think you're a little out of his league”, (Y/N) winked. To this she got a laugh out of her. “Well, it was nice weirdly meeting you, ‘I’m Max!”, she introduced herself. “Well Max, ‘I’m (Y/N), if you're interested in someone helping you out with that kickflip, ‘I used to do some skateboarding myself”, she offered. Max beamed at her offer, “Really? That’d be so great!”, “Alrighty then, if you see me around, don’t be shy to ask!”.

Little did (Y/N) and Max know, Billy was watching them. Billy knew (Y/N) was genuinely kind, but not that kind. It wasn’t necessarily cool to be seen with a middle schooler. He figured he wouldn’t look too much into it, but something about seeing (Y/N) with her, didn’t sit well with him. Billy gave Max a dirty look as she skated up to the camaro. “You're late again”, Billy started. “I had to get catchup homework”, Max stated. “Jesus! I don’t care- who was that girl you were talking to?”, Billy asked, even though he already knew who she was. “Just some high schooler- she offered to help me learn some skateboarding tricks' '. So she skateboarded too, huh? “That’s rich. Just, get in the car, will yah?”.

(Y/N) entered the door with a ‘skip in her step. She really needed a reason to lose herself, forget about the world around her. Tonight was going to be perfect for that. Expecting to be greeted by her mom, she noticed no one was there. She knew Dustin was heading to Mike’s right after school, ‘but her mom was nowhere to be seen. She probably had to work later hours again. ‘This meant she had the place to herself! (Y/N) still had a few hours before Billy picked her up. So she figured she’d get into her costume, and then fix herself something to eat.

The Sarah Connor costume was simple. Gray tank top, black jeans, sunglasses, a chunky belt and combat boots. (Y/N) already had all of this in her regular wardrobe, so it’d be a pretty easy costume. Of course she didn’t have a rifle to complete it, even though she could’ve asked Nance. She wasn’t about to show up to a house party with a gun. It would have been pretty cool though.

She stood in front of the bathroom mirror, clad in costume. Now it was time to remove her makeup and untame her curled hair. “Mr. Crowley” by Ozzy Osbourne was currently spinning on her “Blizzard of Ozz” vinyl. She mouthed her lips to the lyrics as she straightened her hair, her (Y/H/C) locks falling in straight whisps on her head. Replacing her once extravagant makeup with a more nude look, she looked at herself pleased.

A total badass look, you might say.

It was only 4:30, and Billy was coming over at 6 o’clock. She had way too much time to kill. Making her way to the kitchen, she scoped the fridge. Enough ground beef for two burgers, and she knew they had leftover buns. Maybe Billy would be hungry when he got there, and if she was making dinner for two- she didn’t want to start too early. So she’d head back to it in about a half an hour. Meanwhile a coca-cola would hold her down, she was pretty firsty.

(Y/N) now laid in her bed, bored. ‘Blizzard of Ozz was still playing, it just switched onto “Steal Away (The Night)”, her ears perked up to the upbeat tune. She couldn’t help but dance around, hopping happily on her bed as she belted the lyrics along with Ozzy. Pointing at the poster of him that was plastered on her wall, she shouted the chorus. It’d be pretty funny if Billy were to walk in on her singing her heart out, what would he think of that? She rolled her eyes at the thought, he’d probably think she was crazy. The song ended, turning to the next one. (Y/N) took this as her cue to start on dinner.

Flipping the patties in the pan, she sighed at the smell. She did cook a pretty ‘mean burger. Dustin loved when she made them, he always said the added rosemary was the perfect touch. (Y/N) grew up with her mother teaching her how to cook. Claudia Henderson had worked in a number of restaurants, usually in the kitchen or as a waitress. She now helped run a popular Inn a little outside of town, and it was her favourite place she’s ever worked in. (Y/N) probably figured it was a busy night, considering she didn’t come home at her usual hour.

5:45 and the burgers were ready and plated, the aroma running through the room. Billy was ‘going to be here soon, and she was giddy with excitement. Before she knew it, the bell rang. Fuck he was early. “Coming!” she called, slowly making her way to the door. ‘There he stood; a cocky grin on his face with his arm propped up on the door ledge. She took time to take in his minimal outfit, tight jeans & a leather jacket, no shirt. His abbs were on full display- (Y/N)’s mouth watered just at the sight of him. “See something you like, sweetheart?” he smirked. “Maybe-”, (Y/N) stammered. “It’s aight, I see something I like to,'' he whispered the last part into her ear, letting himself in.

“She cooks too? ‘I guess looks can be deceiving”, he motioned to the burgers. (Y/N) blushed, “I figured we could eat before we fill ourselves with alcohol”. They delved into the burgers, she couldn’t help but laugh when Billy moaned at the taste. “Darlin- I haven’t had a burger like this in awhile, ‘the ones down at Benny’s don’t hold anything on these”, he praised. “That must be a high compliment, because ‘Benny’s are pretty good”, she smiled at him. (Y/N) put the dishes into the dishwasher, quickly running to her room to grab her polaroid camera. “Where are you ‘heading princess?”, she’d never get tired of his little pet names. “I’m just grabbing my camera- I want to get some good shots tonight!”.

(Y/N) came back with her camera bag, a big grin on her face. “You ready to head out?”, he questioned. “Yeah, just let me get my jacket”, she took her jacket from the hook. “Ready”. He guided her to the camaro, opening the passenger door. Billy never opened the passenger door for girls! ‘(Y/N) really did something to him, huh? “Such the gentlemen”, she smirked. “Anything for you dollface”. He slid into the drivers side, placing his keys into the ignition. “Music?” she questioned, “Sure thing, feel free to look through the cassettes in the glove box”. She searched through the assortment of tapes, varying from Metallica, Def Leppard, RATT, Mötley Crüe, Hanoi Rocks, AC/DC and more. She settled on Hanoi Rocks’s, “Two Steps From The Move” album. It had just come out that summer, and it was one of her favourites. Not to mention she had a HUGE crush on Michael Monroe.

“Hanoi Rocks huh? I like your style”, he nodded in approval, till turning his eyes back on the road. “Got any specific fave tracks?”, (Y/N) questioned. “Track 8”. She was surprised he chose this one, considering it was one of the more “cheesy” songs. ‘It did have a pretty ‘rockin guitar riff in it though, she’ll give him that. Billy contentedly thumped his hands on the steering wheel, speeding up a bit. Rolling both of their windows down, (Y/N) was surprised to see him singing along to the lyrics. It was a bad attempt at a Finnish accent, sure, but it was still really cute. (Y/N) joined him, jumping in at the chorus. They banged their heads to the tune, continuously singing the lines. (Y/N) really felt alive in that moment. ‘She couldn’t remember the last time she had this much fun, and they haven’t even gotten to the party yet.

They pulled up to Tina’s, teens were already rallying in. ‘It was going to be a wild night. Before Billy could open up his trunk to get the kegs, (Y/N) stopped him. She pulled out her camera, “Hargrove! Smile!”, she grinned, pointing the camera at him. ‘He rolled his eyes, posing for the picture. The photo was of Billy playfully doing the devil’s horns symbol, with his tongue stuck out. She giggled, “This is one for the board!”. “Well Hey Sarrah Conner- let me take a pic of you!”, he said, trying to grab the camera from her. She handed the camera to him, smiling that he remembered her costume name. Letting her sunglasses shade her eyes, ‘she smirked brightly at the camera, ‘Billy quickly snapping the shot. He handed the polaroid to her, she shaked it and placed it in her bag with the one she took.

Billy held one of the kegs while (Y/N) grabbed the other, walking into the crowded house. It was overwhelmingly loud. They could feel the heat coming off the numerous teenagers that littered the home, their bodies moving to the heavy beats of the stereo. Tina was in the kitchen, and had noticed the pair walk in. “Billy & (Y/N) are here with more kegs!”, she shouted, ‘causing the crowd to go wild. Someone had taken the one from her hands and motioned Billy to follow them into the backyard, leaving her alone. She grazed over the sea of teens, trying to spot anyone she knew. She noticed Steve and Nancy dancing freely in the living room, Nancy nursing a drink while Steve had a big smile on his face. She figured she’d grab some punch and then see what Billy was doing in the backyard, most likely a keg stand. He was the new ‘king after all, Tommy was probably expecting him to beat Steve’s record.

‘As luck would have it, she was right. She stood on the back porch with a cup of “pure fuel” in her hands, watching the teens crowd around him as he bent over the keg. They shouted various numbers, counting the seconds as he chugged down the beer. (Y/N) cheered with them, looking at him with bright eyes. His torso was glistening, beads of sweat running down his toned chest. Her cheeks flushed red just at the sight of him. The enthusiasm got louder as he finished the stand, spitting spews of beer out of his mouth. “That’s how you do it Hawkins! That’s how you do it!”, more cheers. Tommy passed him a cigarette and escorted him into the house, the gang shouting his name as Mötley Crüe’s, “Shout At The Devil” played on the speakers. Billy spotted her on the porch, grinning wildly at her. He shoved her into his side with his arm, hugging her tight. Tommy glared at the interaction. Never in her time with being friends with Steve has ‘Tommy liked her that much, and it seems things haven’t changed.

Typical Tommy.

(Y/N) was enjoying the feel of Billy's embrace a little too much. She knew he was already partially drunk, and she was feeling a nice buzz that she wasn’t planning on getting rid of anytime soon. Someone had to drive them home. ‘Tommy paraded them up to Nancy and Steve, (Y/N) wasn’t sure if it was to torchure her or show off Billy, probably both. ‘Billy and Steve stared each other down as if they were going to kill each other, it was really intense. Too intense for her liking. Still hooded under Billy’s arm, she shot Steve a sympathetic look. ‘As if to say ‘I’m sorry’ with her eyes. “We got ourselves a new keg king Harrington!”, Tommy declared. “Yeah eat it Harrington!”, another guy shouted. Somehow in ‘Billy and Steve’s stare down, Nancy had slipped away.

“You see Harrington- not only that, but I stole your girl away too”, Billy retorted. Oh shit- this wasn’t good. Steve glanced over at her, a nervous look in his eyes. “I don’t know what you're talking about man-”. How did Billy know about (Y/N)’s past feelings for Steve? “Well you see, this lovely lady under my arms thought the world of you, and frankly I- I just don’t see why! Point being, she has me now, you can go fetch that slut you settled for.” This interaction was making neither Steve nor (Y/N) happy, it left them feeling both angry and confused. Steve scoffed, chasing after Nancy. He was going to want to talk to (Y/N) about this later.

Steve really didn’t know what to make of what Billy had said to him. Mainly, it sounded like a warning; but he didn’t think Billy intended for it to be that. (Y/N) and him had been best friends forever, and even if he didn’t necessarily like Billy, there was no harm in her being friends with him, right? Though, something about what Billy said hinted that he meant more than just friends. Had (Y/N) liked him, loved him even? Was Steve really oblivious all these years- no, it couldn’t be. If he was being honest, he harboured a small crush on her in the beginning of middle school, but then Nancy came into his life. Nancy Wheeler hit him like a freight train right in the heart, and he then became a lovesick puppy. He couldn’t get enough of her. That’s when Steve began to realize, the jealous glances over the years, the slight distaste of Nancy that came off her.

But, why did it matter if (Y/N) loved him? He still had Nancy, or so he thought.

Tommy had left, leaving Billy and (Y/N) in the corner of the living room, an uncomfortable silence stirring between them. “Billy-how did you-“, she wondered in a whisper, but Billy cut her off. “You really don’t think Tommy would’ve told me? Besides, everybody knows”. She didn’t need to hear the last part. Besides, why did it matter if everyone knew- it didn’t matter to her anymore. “Does that bother you?”, she asked worriedly. Billy chuckled darkly.

“Darlin- you got nothing to worry about, I’m your new king now”.

Next thing she knew, they were on the dance floor. Billy had pulled her into the crowd of sweaty bodies, grinding on each other. Some people were making out, others chugging alcohol till they fell limp to the floor. She stared nervously at the rowdy teens, her body shaking. He noticed her agitation, placing a hand on her cheek, turning her to face him. He smelt of cheap beer and stale cigarette smoke, and a hint of cologne. She was caught with that intoxicating sensation again, making her hazy. His icy blue eyes peered into her (Y/E/C) ones, “Just feel the music princess- everything will be just fine”.

‘Their bodies moved comfortably against each other to ‘Billy Idol’s, “Flesh For Fantasy”. A perfect song choice in the moment. ‘(Y/N) was very much sober and very much aware of what was happening. Aware of Billy’s strong grip on her waist, aware of his hips moving against hers. Normally this would’ve been cutting close corners for her, but she was looking for an opportunity to lose herself. What better way than this? She ran her fingers through his thick blonde curls, her hips swaying a bit more. He sighed in contentment, making her shiver. His face was currently buried into her neck, placing soft kisses on her collarbone.

They continued their heavy sway for a while, Billy had started to form a hickey below her ear. She was definitely not going to be able to cover it up tomorrow, but she really didn’t care if people saw it- she wanted people to know that she wasn’t desperate. That she didn’t need Steve anymore. She wasn’t exactly sure what she meant to ‘Hargrove, but she knew that she wasn’t planning on leaving him anytime soon. (Y/N) felt him remove his lips from her neck, his hot breath waving over her. “Mhmm- left a pretty big mark sweetheart-“ he mumbled. She hummed in return, removing her hands from his hair.

The rest of the night consisted of more dancing, and Billy getting more intoxicated than he was before. Really drunk Billy- let’s just say it was quite the sight to see. He was a giggling mess, slurring his words and stumbling on his feet. “(Y/N)- has anyone ever told you-“ he hiccuped, “That you were gorgeous?”, another hiccup. She giggled at his comment, “Tons of people- but I bet no one sees me like you do huh?”, she supported him up against the kitchen counter. “Absolutely no one!” He cheered in a high pitch voice, damn he really was a mess. She tried to wrap his arm around her shoulders snatching his keys.”Hey- what are you doing?”, he gestured to the keys, “Getting you home-“, “Wait! Can we go to your house please?? I can’t wake up my dad letting him see me like this- he’ll kill me”, he pleaded. “Fine- just, try to be as quiet as possible, I got a sleeping family too”.

(Y/N) took him out of the house, nearly carrying him. She waved goodbye to a few mutual friends who were still conscious, muttering a soft “See y’all tomorrow, hope we aren’t all hungover”. This earned a few laughs from her classmates, bidding her and Billy a goodnight. Unlocking the passenger side to the camaro, she set Billy down lightly on the seat. “Being so ginger with me sweetheart- I’m not made of glass ‘you know”, he joked. “Whatever tough guy- let’s just get you to a bed, mhm?”. Placing her hands on the steering wheel, she realized she hasn’t driven a car since the summer, and a camaro is definitely nothing close to a station wagon. She took a deep breath- she could do this, no sweat. Besides, there was no way she could bring herself to ruin a car as beautiful as this one.

Billy must’ve passed out while they were driving, because when she pulled into her driveway, his eyes were sewn shut. She had to admit- he did look pretty adorable when he was sleeping. She tried to resist the urge to take a photo of him, but she couldn’t help herself. Pulling out her camera bag that was littered with pictures from tonight, she snapped a quick photo of him. The flash startled him, waking him up. “Sweetheart- were you taking photos of me in my sleep? That’s just creepy”, his voice was groggy. “How could I not when you were laying there looking like an angel?”, “Pfft- ‘darlin, I am a demon, Satan himself! ‘Ain’t no way I’m an angel!”, he scoffed.

“Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but Lucifer was once an angel”.

Fumbling with the keys to her front door while trying to help Billy regain his footing was hard. He was just about to lose consciousness again when she finally got the door open, it shouldn't have been as much of a challenge as it was- but Billy had a lot of weight to him. She didn’t notice the lights were still on till she saw her mom sitting in her reading chair, Mews on her lap and clad in a cat costume. Shit- what was she gonna say about this? “Oh! Mrs. Henderson- I see where (Y/N) gets all her good looks from!”, Billy squealed, “Ugh can it Billy! Mom I can explain-“ she shushed Billy, staring wide eyed at her mother. “Sweetie- you clearly had a wild night, just take this pound of muscle to your room, and we can talk about it while he crashes, okay?”- (Y/N) nodded quickly, dragging Billy to her room.

Billy flopped down on the bed, giggling wildly. “Honey! We’ve known each other for two days, don’t you think we ‘oughta know one another better before I sleep in your bed?”, (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the blubbering idiot. “This was your idea dumby! Just get under the covers and keep it shut, will you?”, she glared at him, closing the door and heading back to the living room.

“So no Steve, huh? He’s the one who usually spends the night”, her mom said softly. “Different reasons mom- I’m just trying to figure out who’s a bigger piece of work”, she huffed. “Well he’s quite the looker, ‘makes me wonder how you keep up with him”, Claudia smirked. “Mom! He’s new here- he just happened to notice me first”, (Y/N) blushed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Besides- what are you doing up so late?”, (Y/N) stared at the clock, “It’s nearly 1 o’clock”. “Busy night down at the Inn, just needed a little time to myself after Dusty went to bed”, she sighed, but (Y/N) knew she wasn’t finished. “Also wanted to see what mess you brung home, it’s always a new thing with you”, her mom laughed. “Billy’s- interesting, but I’m not sure, doesn’t seem like the most faithful type”, she sighed. “He may surprise you, and besides- if he hurts you he’ll have to suffer the wrath of your brother!”, Claudia giggled, smiling at her daughter. “Anyways- I’m gonna head to bed, early day at work tomorrow, you gonna go join the guy?”, she pointed down the hall. “Yeah yeah I’ll join the idiot in a second- just gonna get some water”, (Y/N) said tiredly.

Snuggling up on the couch, she sipped her water. The quietness was calming, the fact that everyone was at rest and she was the only one around southend her in a way. The fact that Billy was sleeping soundly in her bed, gave her a different feeling. Things with him- had gone by so quickly, and it was only just beginning. It was nice being with someone where the relationship had lasted longer than more than a few hours. Her past flames- had simply been one night stands, meaningless things to shy her away from Steve, but Billy was different. She actually liked him, and even though he came off as a jerk- he seemed really sweet on the inside. Though, she couldn’t help but wonder how Steve was feeling right now, the bomb had been dropped on him nearly two hours ago- it must be overwhelming to know your best friend was holding back feelings for so many years.

(Y/N) was just about to head to bed, till she heard a knock on the door. Who was here at this time of night? She opened the door slightly, and who she saw she didn’t expect. There Steve stood, his face red and puffy with tears in his eyes. His body was shaking, his shoulders were slumped over. He looked awful. “She- doesn’t love me- it’s bullshit! It was all bullshit!” He stuttered as his body continued to quiver. (Y/N)’s heart ached at his words, what had Nancy done this time? She didn’t know what to say, it’s not like she could’ve let him in. So, she just pulled him into a hug, “Steve-you can’t keep coming here like this- it’s not my job to fix you”, she tried to explain. “I know! I just don’t have anywhere else to go”, he cried. “I can’t tonight- it just isn’t the right time.” (Y/N) was attempting to tell him in the best way possible that Billy wasn’t there, but Steve caught on. “He’s here, isn’t he, Billy?”, Steve muttered angrily. “Out of all the guys in Hawkins- you chose him to get over me, that’s just flattering!” . Steve was making her feel sick, “Steve- I know you're hurting but you can’t take it out on me like that- it isn’t fair”, she pushed away from him. “I’ll talk about this with you tomorrow- when you're in the right state of mind, okay? Just please leave”, she pleaded. “Fine- I’ll see you tomorrow”, he breathed out harshly, walking back to his car.

She was on the edge of a breakdown, heart racing and choked up tears running down her face. This is not how she expected her evening to end- seeing Steve like that, broken and beaten again. (Y/N) thought she’d never live to see Steve crumble in her arms one more time- and with that she could’ve rested easy. At least she wouldn’t have to be alone tonight, she had someone waiting for her. Trying to stay quiet, she tiptoed down the hall. Opening the door, she walked in to see Billy sleeping soundly, the pink hue of her bedside lamp illuminating his features. She took notice of his leather jacket, jeans and boots scattered on the ground. That meant he was only in his boxers. Before joining him she slipped into an oversized AC/DC t-shirt and looked in the mirror, her hands grazing over the purple mark that had formed on her neck- the little bastard.

When (Y/N) laid in bed, even in his sleepy state Billy could notice the slight dip in the mattress. He groaned, “What took you so long…?”. (Y/N) chuckled softly at his tiredness. “Just an unexpected visitor, nothing to worry about”, she smiled reassuringly. “Well as long as you're okay, that’s all that matters”, he kissed her temple, pulling her into his chest. She snuggled into his side, sighing contentedly. She needed this. “Thank you”, she mumbled mindlessly. “For what sweetheart?”.

“For helping me start fresh”.

The couple held each other comfortably, sleep taking over them. (Y/N) rested her head on Billy’s torso, as he lazily made circles on the small of her back. Everything was blissful in that moment. Perfect. She’d deal with Steve tomorrow, for now, she had Billy Hargrove. Billy Hargrove with his strong hold and warm comforting body, Billy Hargrove who made her feel safe.

Author’s note:

Hope you all love the second chapter! Feedback is always appreciated & as always if you want to be added to the taglist comment down below ❤️!

Tag-list: @theblueslytherin @oopsiedoopsie23 @lulu-yuming @merc12-us @soullesstaco @unded-bride @holychocopie @nikkixostan @ellesimagines

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thephantomofthe-internet · 4 years

Text

And the World goes Soft

Steve Harrington x Reader (Future AU)

Words: 3,730

Warnings: Blood mention, injury mention, insecurities, general fluff

Author’s Note: I was inspired by a fanfiction that I can no longer find :( but it was a Steve as a bartender fic, I would tag the potential writers but I don’t want to bother them, but when I find it the world will know!

Masterlist

When Steve walked into your shared apartment, he looked like absolute shit. He’d worked a devil’s double-he closed the bar and then opened it only a few hours later. You couldn’t remember him coming to bed the night before, and you’d left before him to make it into Gary Garden Court mall’s Sears to open the makeup counter. You both had the opening shifts that morning and while you knew that your shift would pay you basic minimum wage to deal with stuffy older women all trying to buy orange lipstick and bringing in their young daughters to have mall makeovers before school dances. Steve, on the other hand, would get paid less than minimum wage to lift heavy cases of beer and liquor, prep the rail for the night shift, and still serve the saddest drunks in the world their three beer lunches.

By the way he threw down his gym bag, the shift was gruesome. The bags under his eyes were blotchy blue and purple and heavy, his eyes dull and lids sagging over his pupils. His hair was greasy and hidden under a blue baseball cap. His work bag stunk like grease. By the looks at him, he probably had to step into the kitchen as well. You dropped your thin paperback on the couch and swung your feet onto the floor.

“Did Anthony not show up again?” you asked, standing to meet him in the doorway. You pressed a kiss to his temple. He was sweaty. They must have been busy, mornings were usually pretty safe. That was the only reason Steve picked up the shift, his co-worker Hannah had practically begged him to cover for her.

“He was two hours late,” Steve sighed bitterly. Anthony was the worst guy in the kitchen, he was always either late or absent from work, but because he was the general manager’s nephew he never got fired. “I had to do the whole kitchen put away while Mike opened up everything.”

“I’m sorry baby,” you smiled sadly. He skin and hair smelt of fryer grease. It was a pungent odour that you were very used to. Steve shrugged half heartedly. He reached over his head and pulled off the olive crewneck sweatshirt he’d thrown over his uniform. The sweater was ancient; he’d had it since high school and was more than showing its wear and tear. Steve winced audibly, pulling an arm behind him to clutch at his lower back.

“Did you hurt yourself at work again?”You asked as he pulled off the other sleeve and dropped the sweatshirt on top of his bag.

“Yeah, heavy wing boxes, no help.” Steve said through gritted teeth.

“Did you tell Mike?” you asked, taking the hat off his head so he didn’t have to lift his arms over his head again.

“Nah, no point, I won’t die.” You furrowed your brow. Steve always acted tougher than he actually was; years of putting other’s safety above his made him constantly put himself last on his own list. It made you sad to watch him wear himself down for shitty managers and co-workers who cared more about filling their own pockets than taking care of one another.

“You should go take a bath, soak your back.” You said, reaching down to pick up his work bag. Steve nodded, hobbling towards your shared bathroom. Once the door shut, you picked up his things. You felt terrible for him. He did so much for you to make life easier for the pair of you. You knew that he still didn’t think you should’ve left with him. He had all these ideas about who you could be, who you should be. But what he didn’t understand is that none of that really mattered to you. You didn’t care about big fancy college degrees or the Harrington family wealth or trust funds. You cared about Steve. Steve made you happy. You could be living in absolute shit with him and you’d still be happy. And your little studio apartment made you happy, with its cool teal glass brick pillars and the big windows facing out into the busy street. Living in downtown Gary wasn’t exactly the little haven you’d expected for your life, you’d selfishly imagined your own little box build house in the suburbs, with uniforms lawns and pastel doors. You wanted the life your parents had made you, a safe space for kids to grow up. But you knew in your heart that even the safest, quietest small towns in the world weren’t safe.

You heard the water start and you turned your attention to the mess Steve had left behind. You threw his work bag under the coffee table under the window, where it belonged, and turned your attention to Steve’s sweater. It was ancient, but you knew that it was Steve’s favourite. It comforted him when he was upset or had night terrors. He wore it whenever he wanted to feel a bit of security. You examined the fabric. It was beat-the neck had a chunk of fabric missing, showing the fleece underneath, the sleeve cuffs had holes and seams along the arms had holes in between the seams. You felt bad for the thing. Steve tried to take care of his clothes the best he could, but he couldn’t sew. Hemlines would fall and Steve would just throw the shirt into the back of his closet until he was desperate for clothes. He’d buy a whole new pair of jeans if he ripped the knee open. You found the piles of forgotten shirts when you moved in with him and had taken on the slow process of fixing them all. Steve never really seemed to notice. Every time he went for an old shirt do some work in and found it hemmed, he merely shrugged it off, blamed it on his memory. Get your head beat in enough times and you start to lose some things. Steve couldn’t remember most of elementary school and most of the fire at Star Court mall, the combination of drugs and the concussion he’d gotten fucked up his brain for a summer.

You were determined to fix the sweater. You wandered to your desk, pulling out the broken swivel chair and opening the drawer. You had a few spools of thread in your sewing kit; the basic black and white, along with a red and a navy blue. You kept the kit in the back of your desk, although a couple spools of pastel pink, purple, and green thread rolled around up front, leftovers from high school home economics. You didn’t have the exact colour to match Steve’s sweater, so the pastel green would have to do. You grabbed that, along with a needle and the pink scissors from the cup of pens on the top of your desk. You brought your supplies out into the space zoned out as your living room. There were three holes on the right cuff and one small hole on the right sleeve, and one hole on the left cuff and one hole on the right sleeve. The left sleeve was much for wear than the right, one wrong hook of the thumb and the whole cuff could be taken off the sleeve. You focused on that sleeve first.

You wouldn’t bother with pins to hold the material together; you’d simply do a free stitch. You cut off an arms length of thread and slid the needle through, knotting the ends together. You started with cuff, since it would be the easiest. You stabbed the needle into the fabric, bobbing through the material in a straight, basic stitch. It took you all of two minutes. You’d gotten quick at hand sewing from fixing up Steve’s wardrobe. You didn’t want to make a big deal of it, mainly because Steve would feel bad about you taking care of him. He liked to feel self-sufficient, and he was but everyone needed a bit of help once and awhile.

“Baby?” you heard Steve call from behind the closed bathroom door.

“Yeah?” you called, knotting off the green thread once, then twice. You snipped off the excess thread and stabbed the needle into the couch, the excess thread hanging off the eye. You knotted it off and started in on the sleeve, turning it inside out.

“Will you come and sit with me? I’m lonely.” Steve called. The bathtub you had barely held him, but he still tried to get you to join him in there every time he took a bath.

You sighed through your nose “Alright, baby.” You collected up your supplies, bundling them in your arms and padding your way into the bathroom. You kicked Steve’s work clothes into the hall as you opened the door, a silent reminder to wash that shit later. His clothes stunk. Steve looked like a poorly done piece of origami, crumpled up in the tiny white tub. It was barely five feet in length and Steve was a strong six two, his legs hung out of the tub in the open air, his torso pulled into the hot water. He’s steamed up the mirror and made the whole bathroom humid. You flipped down the toilet seat and dropped your supplies on the counter top.

“Baby, come sit with me…”Steve whined, his head low in the tub, only his hair visible.

“I am sitting with you,” you chuckled. You had taken to doing a ladder stitch up the open place in the sleeve. It wasn’t as though the seam had ripped, the sleeve had simply been surged shut and the surging had come up and pulled away. It was a cheap sweater. You struggled to pull the needle through the other side of the fabric; it was thick and the needle was hooked at the end, which meant that it hooked on every loose bit of fluff on the material. You stuck your hand through the cuff to grab the needle and push it back in to make the next stitch.

“You’re too far away…” Steve complained quietly.

“And our tub is too tiny,” you replied “When we can afford a bigger place, we’ll get one with a nice tub. Then we’ll take as many baths as you want.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep…” Steve chuckled. You sat in silence for awhile, long enough to finish off the left sleeve and start in on the right. Steve didn’t seem to notice the sounds of scissors snipping or the thread unwinding from the spool. He hummed quietly to himself. Sometimes he’d sing when he thought no one was listening. He had a nice voice; you wished he’d sing more. But his quiet humming was comforting. It reminded you of driving around with him on the nights he couldn’t sleep. He’d drive in silence for awhile, the radio playing softly, and whenever a song he liked came on he’d hum along. You’d fall asleep in the passenger seat some nights; you hand on his arm to remind him that you were still there. You’d wake up to hear him humming along to Chris de Burgh or Stevie Nicks as the station began to transition from the smoother songs to the morning zoo crew shtick. You remember waking up to the sunrise and forcing Steve into the passenger seat when you realized how long he’d been driving. There were mornings when you didn’t know where you were anymore and you’d have to figure out where the hell you were. Still, you’d let him sleep as you winded your way back into Hawkins. He only seemed to be able to sleep with someone there with him. Driving became his move after he got worried that calling you at two in the morning was upsetting you. It didn’t bother you at all, but the phone ringing early in the morning more than upset your parents. Sitting with Steve in the tub felt like those nights in the car, or on the phone, not so much talking so much as checking that you’re still there and that he was still okay.

“What’re you doing over there?” Steve asked. You heard the water slosh and watched as Steve’s legs slipped back into the tub and his head pop out from over the tub’s ledge. You smiled shyly, lifting the sleeve of his sweater. “What’re you doing with my sweater?” He seemed perplexed by you having it. Steve still wasn’t used to people wanting to take care of him. He was so used to being self sufficient that letting people take care of him was still foreign to him.

“I’m fixing it. It’s all ripped and worn to shit.” You turned your attention back to your sewing. You’d finished patching up the right cuff and had turned your attention to the last rip. You flipped the sleeve inside out and jabbed the needle into the fabric.

“You don’t have to do that, I can fix it.” Steve replied awkwardly, sinking low in the tub again.

“I know you can, but it’s no issue for me,” you said “Besides, I’ve been fixing your shirts for months now.” Steve frowned, looking down at his chest. He didn’t like to be care taken for, it made him feel small and useless. It reminded him of when his mother would burst into his room and start picking up after him, muttering over how ungrateful and lazy he was. He never asked for her to do that, he never expected it, but it was a constant reminder that he wasn’t good enough. That he was still too much of a child to take care of himself.

Steve was silent for too long. You knew in your heart that helping Steve wasn’t always easy. He didn’t accept help like other people did, he was too brave to ask for it and too cowardly to admit that he ever needed help. He wanted to be brave, to take care of himself without anyone else’s help. And he did that, every day without comment or complaint, but it hurt to watch him struggle sometimes. He struggled to hard to be the bigger breadwinner in your house. He was still on your ass to quit your job and go to school. In his mind, he could handle it on his own. But you both knew, even if he wouldn’t admit it, that extra shifts at the bar wouldn’t keep a roof over your head without you working too, it was just too expensive to live on minimum wage, even in a shitty neighbourhood in Indiana. You wouldn’t pretend that it wasn’t brave of him to declare that he could handle it, it was almost romantic, but you were just as brave as him and you wouldn’t watch him break himself apart to give you a life only marginally better than what you already had.

“Baby…you know that I don’t do things for you because I don’t think you can do them, right?” you asked. Steve was silent for a moment. You heard him shift in the tub. The room was starting to go cool, the fog on the mirror fading away. The water in the tub must be uncomfortably cool. You wished he’d turn on the water and add a bit more to the tub, to at least add some sound to the room and warm it up again. You were starting to get cold.

Steve sighed quietly “I know…”

“Do you?”

That was a hard question. Harder than Steve had expected. He wanted to believe you. He did trust you, more than anyone else in the world, and he almost always believed you. But he wasn’t so sure on that one. He still felt like such a child so much of the time. He was still so young, most of his coworkers were older than him, and the ones his age only worked part time and went to college. Half of them still lived at home with their parents too. Most people who he met either took pity on him or outright judged him. When he mentioned that he lived with his girlfriend out here, one of his coworkers asked if she was pregnant. If he’d gotten kicked out. He was still viewed as too young for the life he was trying to build for himself. His father still thought he was coming back. He’d get on the phone after Steve’s mother every couple months to ask when his little experiment was done. He didn’t understand that this wasn’t an experiment, this was life now. That he wasn’t coming back to take some entry position at the company, where he could get shit on by his father in a corporate scenario as well as at home. That he was going to make it on his own. And Steve was determined to make it, and to make it with you.

“Honestly?” you nodded, hoping to god that he’d actually admit a feeling. “I’m not used to people trying to help me without asking for something in return. People usually want something from me. And then there are my parents…”

“I understand,” you sighed softly, stabbing the needle into the material and setting it on the toilet seat. You stood and walked over to the tub, sitting down on the cold tile outside the tub. “All I want to do is help you. I know you can’t sew and I can, so I just wanted to do something for you. I know that this is your favourite sweater and it needed a bit of mending.”

“I can sew…” Steve muttered awkwardly. You looked behind you to see him pouting like a child, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. It was strangely adorable, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh yeah, I have the scar on my leg to prove it.” Your hand came to touch the jagged scar on your calf. You’d been hurt in an attack, the onetime Steve let you anywhere near the monsters he willingly threw himself at, and came away with a massive wound four inches long and deep. Steve had promised that he could patch you up and had done his best to clean and stitch the wound shut. It never got infected, thank god, but it didn’t heal even or flat. The scar was still lumpy and dark in spots. You were proud of the little scar, but you could tell that Steve was still a bit ashamed of what he’d done to you. You watched as his face changed, defeat flashing in his deep, warm eyes.

“Hey,” you reached out and took his hand “I like my little scar. You saved my life that day…” Steve gave you a small smile.

“I made a mess of it though…” he whispered to himself.

“No, Steve,” you squeezed his hand in yours, turning your full body to look at him, leaning your other arm on the ledge of the tub. It was a bit strange having such an earnest conversation while Steve was buck naked, you worried that he felt overexposed with you watching him. You held his gaze. “You didn’t mess anything up, you saved my life.”

“You would’ve done the same for me…”

“I would have, happily, and that’s because I love you.” Steve still smiled like a little kid whenever you said that you loved him, it was so sweet and earnest that you couldn’t help but smile back just as sweetly. “And when you love someone, you do stuff for them. And so me fixing things up for you isn’t me judging you or thinking that you can’t do it, I know you can, it’s just me trying to help you however I can.”

Steve nodded hard “Okay…” he replied softly. You watched him carefully, trying to find cracks in his expression. He seemed genuine in his acceptance, his smile stayed firmly in place.

“So will you let me finish the damn work without pouting?” you chuckled, reaching for your work. You’d left the needle end out too far. The second you grabbed the sweater, you jabbed your hand. “Ow!” you yelped, pulling the sweater in your lap and your hand up to your mouth. It was only a pinprick, but the bit of blood seeping from the wound made your stomach churn to look at. You didn’t like blood, you’d seen too much blood in your life to last you a lifetime. You’d seen Steve bloody and battered too many times to last a lifetime. Steve grabbed your hand away from you, pressing a firm kiss to the wound and held it there.

“Be careful,” he soothed “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

“It’s just a flesh wound, Steve, I’m fine.” You tried to push yourself up again, but Steve pulled you back down. “Lemme get a Band-Aid, I’m not gonna leave I-”

Steve pulled you down to his level. You stumbled, but caught yourself on the mildew stained tile. “Thank you, baby,” he craned his neck, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. You smiled, running a hand through his hair.

“Anytime, baby,” you mused “Now, finish off your bath I wanna eat and I won’t wait around for you to stop playing princess.” Steve let go of your hand and you turned your attention to your tiny bathroom mirror. You pulled it open, pulling out the box of bandages. You pulled one out and pulled off the thin, wispy paper, wrapping the latex around your fingertip. You heard the tub begin to drain and felt damp, pruney hands wrap around your middle.

“I like your hair…” he pressed a kiss onto the side of your head. You pulled his hands away, reaching for an old towel off the rack and shoving it into his chest.

“You’re soaked, Casanova, dry off before you ruin the whole bathroom.” You chuckled, turning on your heel and pushing out the door. His hands had left two marks on your stomach, cold on your skin.

“Save me some of that pizza from last night!” Steve called, turning his attention to the door to watch you go. You laughed, pulling the door shut behind you. “I love you!”

You stopped in your tracks. Hearing him say that could still make your heart speed up. You smiled to yourself, shaking your head slightly. “I love you too, doofus.”

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insideoutstory · 4 years

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Inside Out → Chapter Twenty-Three

summary: Christine and Nancy finally have some downtime to discuss their friendship. word count: 4.7k warnings: Just some girls being girls, and some Sad Mike.

[ masterlist ] [ FF.net ]

The fallout was easier than Christine had imagined.

She’d gone home with the Hendersons for the night, which wasn’t so bad. Dustin, ever so chivalrous, had opted to sleep on his floor so she could have the bed. What was more, he even pretended not to hear her crying into his pillow. She hoped it would dry up by morning.

She’d expected the worst part to be lying to her dad. But as it turned out, lying was coming pretty naturally to her these days. Even when he came rushing into the Henderson’s kitchen, choked up and frantic at the sight of her wheelchair, Christine kept her cool.

“Dad, honestly, I’m fine,” she assured him. “I literally just fell off the road. It was really dumb.”

“This is all from falling off the road?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah. I was rushing to get to Dustin and I landed on my ankle wrong, which meant landing on my arm wrong, which meant landing in the bushes on the side of the road. Don’t remind me.”

“Well where was this? Why were you running?”

“I was with Nancy and Jonathan at the Byers’ place.”

“Jonathan?” He stared at her, more confused by the second. “Why were you and Nancy with Jonathan?”

“…Homework.”

He raised his eyebrows, and Christine gave him a sharp look. She indicated Dustin on the other side of the table, hoping it might look like she just didn’t want to talk about it around the kids. Her father quickly nodded.

“Oh—yes. The—The homework you had…to do. Good. Well, that’s fine then. Hope it went well.”

Christine rolled her eyes and smiled down at her eggs. If she was good at lying, she didn’t get it from hanging out with Dustin or her dad.

When the subject of Jonathan had come up again around dinner, over their traditional welcome-back-Chinese-takeout, Christine told him the truth. Mostly.

“It’s all about Nancy,” she groaned, twirling a fork through her noodles. “She started spending a lot of time with Jonathan after the funeral, which made Steve really upset. He really, really likes her, and I think Jonathan does too. So we went over there to talk to him about his intentions or whatever. It didn’t go great. Honestly, I’m kinda glad I broke my leg. At least it diffused the tension.”

“You know, this is not what I had in mind when I said you should get out more,” he chuckled into his soup. “I’m gone for eight days and two kids go missing, one comes back from the dead, you break your leg and end up in some dramatic love triangle.”

“Ha. I’m not really part of the triangle, Dad. I’m more like an outlier point.”

She frowned down at the plastic container, dragging her fork around lazily. It was stupid to still be upset about boys after everything that had happened. Somehow, she still had the emotional capacity to be upset about everything at once. She felt like exploding, between Steve and Barb and Eleven. Sooner or later, she’d have to burst or let something go.

“Any news about Barb?” her dad asked gently.

“Not really,” she mumbled. “The paper said they found her car at a bus station, a couple towns over. But it…it doesn’t make any sense…”

“Maybe things were getting too much for her around here. Small town, all that pressure, the drama…”

Christine drew a circle on the bottom of the tray. It faded in a matter of seconds, disappearing in the sauce.

“I should have done more.”

“Honey, you can’t…”

“I should’ve,” she said firmly. “Nancy and I were being stupid, fighting over some dumb jock. She got put in the middle, and I know how much she hated it. And then I showed up to that stupid party, and I said I was going to help her, but—but I wasn’t. I was going to stick it to Nancy cause I was mad. And then she got mad at me, and I got mad at her, and we were fighting and Barb was panicking, and that was the last thing she ever saw before…b-before…”

She dropped her fork, and pressed her only good hand over her face.

Her father’s chair scraped against the floor as he pulled it closer to her. He didn’t pull her hand away, just gently stroked her arm.

“You can’t blame yourself for anything that happened to Barbara, bumblebee. I know it hurts, to lose someone. But remember what we practiced. What was the last thing you said to her?”

Christine wracked her brain, flipping through fuzzy memories of crying in the Harringtons’ living room.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered tearily. “I—I said I was sorry.”

“See? You told her. Even then, you knew that you were wrong, and you were trying to make it right. Barbara knew that. And wherever she is, whatever reason she left, I’m sure she’s sorry too.”

It pushed her over the edge. After a whole week of putting it off, reality speared her through the gut. Barb wasn’t sorry. She wasn’t anything. Because she was gone. She’d been dragged into the Upside Down, and she’d died there, cold and alone. And she wasn’t coming back. No more comedies and fried chicken at the Holland residence. No more knowing looks and comforting glances when Nancy started talking about her love life. No more indelicate snorts or good advice or late night joy rides to get ice cream and sing in the car. Barb was gone.

Christine’s father held her as she burst into tears. It was hard to cry, physically difficult when she was restrained by the sling and the cast. Her frustration made her cry harder, and eventually, her father had to pick her up and carry her to bed. He didn’t ask about the pillow fort in the corner. She wondered if he noticed that seeing it made her sobbing worse.

Somehow, the lying still wasn’t the worst part. It was a good contender, along with the nightmares she kept having about the Demogorgon and the Upside Down. She was always trapped there, but she found different things every night. Barb’s body. Eleven’s body. Nancy’s and her dad’s and Steve’s. All the boys battered and broken with sunken eyes and vines crawling over their limbs. She’d tug at them and tug at them, but nothing could break them loose. Sometimes she’d run from the Demogorgon for what felt like hours, only to jerk awake and find she’d only been asleep for fifteen minutes. It was exhausting. Even when she was unconscious, she didn’t seem to be getting any rest.

Somehow, that also wasn’t the worst part. It wasn’t lying, or crying, or having nightmares, missing her friends or jumping every time she turned the lights off.

No, the worst part of the whole thing was this goddamn wheelchair.

She’d never felt so inconvenient in her life. Hawkins was not built to be accessible, and she’d never really noticed it until now. Everyone around her had to accommodate for her, and she was absolutely sick of it. She didn’t like being a burden.

It was impossible for her to use her bike, which meant they had to set up a carpool to get her to and from school. Her father was going to work late every morning so he could drive her and Nancy. He assured them he’d cleared it with the office and shifted his hours, but it still made her feel like crap. Mrs. Wheeler drove them home every afternoon, and Christine would stay with them through dinner until her father could pick her up after work. This change would have happened anyway, since Nancy no longer had Barb to drive her home. But watching Mrs. Wheeler struggle to fold the wheelchair and stuff it in the back was enough to make Christine consider ripping the sling off and dealing with the consequences.

Nancy’s schedule had changed too. The office had given her a pass to leave early and arrive late to class so she could ferry Christine around the school. Most people would’ve adored a pass like that, but Christine knew it was stressing Nancy out. She was a nerd at heart, and wanted to spend as much time in class as she could so she didn’t miss anything. She told Christine that it didn’t matter to her, that she was happy to help, that they both knew there were more important things than schoolwork at this point. But she always did it with a tight smile that showed her growing strain.

The other problem was that picking up Christine meant Nancy kept bumping into Steve.

“You still haven’t talked to him?” Christine asked one afternoon, over a week later.

They were doing their homework in Nancy’s room. It was a hassle to get up there. Christine had to hop up the stairs one step at a time with her arms around Nancy’s shoulders. But the girls valued the privacy more than the extra work. Anything was better than working in the living room while Mr. Wheeler snored over The Price is Right.

“You know I haven’t,” Nancy sighed. “I’m too busy to think about it right now. You come first.”

“And I appreciate that. But you can’t keep using me as an excuse to avoid him.”

“I’m not avoiding him.”

It was a feeble excuse at best. Christine sent her a knowing look, and Nancy folded immediately.

“I just feel like it’s best for both of us,” she amended.

“For you and Steve? Or…for you and me?”

Nancy smiled sadly. She pushed her homework aside.

“Christine. I’m really sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I was being dumb, and…”

“Maybe we both were,” Nancy insisted. “Just…Just let me go first, okay? Please?”

Christine pouted, but leaned back against Nancy’s headboard. Nancy nodded, and wrung her hands in her lap.

“That whole week, I…I blamed you for a lot of things. I think it was just easier, you know? Than acknowledging it. And I told you that you were being a bad friend, but…I was being a bad friend too. Worse, even. I never should’ve kissed Steve. I knew something was up when we went to that party, and I just ignored it. I was so…I don’t know, excited that he liked me that I didn’t think about how it would look, or how it would make you feel, or how shitty he was being to you. I mean, he manipulated you into bringing me just like he was always doing with your lab reports and…that’s so messed up.”

“That’s what Barb said,” Christine confided with a weak smile. “I remember being on the phone with her after we had that fight. She was like ‘you cannot be that dumb.’”

“Yeah,” Nancy laughed. “Yeah, she said that to me too. And I knew what he was doing but…he’s just so good at making you feel…”

“Special,” Christine said with a nod. “I know. That’s why I kept doing the work. Even when I knew you guys were dating, I just kept doing everything he asked me to. It’s just stupid.”

“He’s stupid,” Nancy insisted. “You’re smarter than twelve of Steve. Screw him.”

“I thought that was your job.”

Nancy’s jaw dropped, but Christine was smirking. She giggled at the look on Nancy’s face, and was promptly smacked with a textbook.

“Ow! Watch it, I only have one good leg.”

“Then maybe you should be more careful with your words,” Nancy warned. Still, she was grinning. “But seriously. Forget Steve. I’m not gonna hang out with someone who uses my best friend like that. Or someone who used me.”

“You?” Christine squinted at her. “What do you mean he used you?”

“Let’s face it, Christine, he just wanted to…you know. Sleep with me. Barb warned me when we went to his house, and I didn’t listen. But…she was right.”

“No, she wasn’t.”

Nancy looked over at Christine in surprise. “Chris…”

“Look, I know that I’ve been pissy about this whole thing from the start. And Steve’s done a lot of fucked up things, to me and to you. But you can’t look at him and think he doesn’t care about you. That’s insane.”

“No. No, it’s—it’s not…”

“It is, Nancy. Steve really likes you. I mean, he kept talking to you and checking up on you even after that party. He lashed out when he thought you were cheating on him—which I will totally kick his ass for after my leg heals—but it’s because he was really heartbroken. And then he came back to apologize, admit he messed up, and that he wanted to make it up to you.”

“You can’t think he was being serious,” Nancy said dismissively.

Christine shrugged. “Actually, I do.”

Nancy didn’t look convinced.

“Think about it like this,” Christine offered. “When he realized what he did, he went to apologize to Jonathan. Not to you. Jonathan. If this was all about getting you to sleep with him, wouldn’t he skip the one on one apology and go straight to convincing you he was sorry?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I guess…”

“Exactly. And, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he hasn’t exactly been buddy with Tommy and Carol this week.”

“That’s just because Tommy’s using him as an excuse,” Nancy reminded her. “You know he told everyone he and Steve duked it out because he doesn’t want to admit you almost broke his nose.”

“That may be true, but the point still stands. And I didn’t get the chance to clean the graffiti at work.”

“Christine, anyone could’ve done that…”

“But they didn’t. Anthony told me.”

“And?” Nancy said adamantly. “That’s like, the bare minimum he should’ve done. So what?”

“So, it’s a start. I mean, don’t look now, but it seems like Steve’s genuinely trying to be a better person.”

“You’re insane.” Nancy shook her head, grinning incredulously. “I can’t believe you want to give him the benefit of the doubt. You of all people.”

“I’m a sucker for a redemption arc,” Christine said offhandedly. “And a nice head of hair.”

They giggled together for a while. It almost felt like being back on her living room floor, drunk off sugar and soda and pizza, playing Truth or Dare while horror flicks played in the background.

Nancy sobered first, fixing Christine with another bittersweet smile.

“You still like him,” she observed.

“Yeah, I guess.” Christine sighed, and let her head thump back against the wall. “I know that sounds super dumb, but…it’s hard not to like him.”

“I know. But that’s exactly why I can’t go back to dating him, Chrissy. I don’t want to let some guy come between us again. If there’s anything that I’ve learned this week, it’s that you’re way more important to me than any boy or any test. I can’t…I can’t lose my best friend again.”

“I don’t know. We make a pretty explosive combo—Psycho Bitch and the Slut.”

Nancy let out a breath of laughter, and rolled her eyes. “Shut up, dork.”

“So is that it?” Christine asked, sitting up a little straighter. “Can we be friends again?”

“Yeah.” Nancy smiled, and nodded her head. “I’d really like that.”

“Great…then it’s my duty as your friend to let you know that Steve’s crazy about you, and you’re still not allowed to use me as excuse to avoid it.”

“Ugh! Christine!”

“I’m serious, Nancy,” Christine countered. “You think I haven’t learned the same lesson this week? I’m not gonna let some stupid thing like jealousy get in the way of your happiness.”

“Chrissy, you make me happy.”

“And so does Steve. Besides, you not dating him isn’t magically gonna make him like me. If he likes you, he likes you. And I know how much you like him, logical flaws aside. So it might take me some time to get over it, but…I’m not gonna stand in the way of that. You can’t live your life always putting other people’s feelings first, Nancy. Life’s too short, you know?”

Nancy nodded, but she still looked conflicted. Or…no. Conflicted wasn’t the right word. She looked almost put out. Clearly the conversation had not gone the way she’d planned it to, and she wasn’t happy with the result.

Christine narrowed her eyes.

“This isn’t even about me, is it?”

“What?” Nancy’s head popped up too fast, her ponytail bouncing wildly. “Christine, haven’t you been listening to me? Of course it is.”

“Ugh, Nancy!” Christine whined, flopping onto her side in the pillows. “I cannot believe you are about to make me have this conversation.”

“What conversation?”

“This conversation! About you liking Jonathan Byers.”

“What? What—no! No, that’s—that’s totally not what this is about!”

“So you admit it?” Christine baited. “This isn’t about that, but you do like him?”

“No! I—I do not like Jonathan.”

“You are such a bad liar. We might not have been speaking for a while, Nance, but I’m not blind. I was third wheeling for a solid two hours while you two were playing horror house.”

“No way! Christine, it wasn’t…”

“If I have to listen to you say ‘it’s not like that’ one more time this month, I’m rescinding our friendship. Every time you say that, it is exactly like that, and you are just trying to run from your own feelings.”

For a moment, Nancy resembled a very distressed fish. Her mouth gaped open and closed. She was searching for some kind of excuse, some obvious reason to ward Christine off, but she could not find one. After several seconds of choking sounds, she fell forward onto the mattress and screamed into her blanket. Christine cackled, and Nancy looked up at her with hair in her eyes.

“Do you hate me?” she asked in distress.

“I could never hate you,” Christine assured her. “I don’t always understand you, but…I guess you just have a…very wide spectrum of taste.”

Nancy smacked her again.

“Ow! Hey, I’m allowed to be critical! That’s part of the best friend deal, right? I have to judge if they’re worthy of you.”

“Of course he is,” Nancy sighed. “I mean, he saved my life, you know? That’s not something a lot of people can say.”

“I know, I know. There’s a lot of stuff that you two went through together that no one else was there for, and no one else will ever understand. I get it. It’s just…it’s Jonathan Byers, you know? He barely talks to anyone at school, and he hardly sticks around outside it.”

“It’s just cause he has a job. He told me he picks up shifts at the auto shop to help out his mom. And he just…doesn’t like talking to people. It’s hard, and he isn’t super sociable. That’s not that weird, right?”

“No, but taking pictures of people from bushes is. Taking pictures of people from bushes is actually my main concern here.”

Nancy groaned and rolled onto her side to face Christine.

“I know. And I shouldn’t forgive him for that. But he apologized, right? And then he worked to make it better. How is that any different from forgiving Steve?”

“Because Steve…It’s because…” Christine pouted. “At least Steve’s cute.”

“Shut up! That is so shallow!”

“See? Even you don’t think he’s cute!”

“I do!”

“Oh my God, you think he’s cute?”

“No, I—He’s cute in his own way, okay?”

“Yeah, like ugly cute.”

“Christine, stop!”

“Fine! Sorry, I’ll stop picking on your boyfriend.”

Their giggles died off quickly, and Nancy pressed her face into her blankets.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said, reminding both of them of the facts. “Right now, neither is Steve. And if I’m being honest, I…I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

Christine bit her lip. Her first impulse was to make a joke about the plights of Nancy Wheeler, trying to decide between the two boys who were head over heels for her. But for once, she swallowed her sarcasm, and tried to think of something helpful.

“You’ve just gotta give it time. Think it over, and do what feels right. Go through a pros and cons list or something.”

“Chrissy,” Nancy groaned. “They’re people, not a science project.”

“I know, but writing it out helps organize your thoughts. I’m not trying to give you an equation, just something that could help.”

Nancy frowned but grabbed her notebook. She flopped onto her stomach, taking her pencil and creating a chart with four columns: Jonathan (Pro), Jonathan (Con), Steve (Pro), Steve (Con).

She went off on her own, rambling to talk things out, scribbling down notes in her book. Christine watched with a bittersweet smile. She knew it was Nancy’s problem to figure out. Whatever conclusion she came to, she had to do it on her own, and Christine didn’t want to interfere. But she could’ve told Nancy the answer right off the bat. All she had to do was look at the first thing her brain had written down.

They spent the hours before dinner neglecting their homework to talk about boys. Christine expected it to be uncomfortable, full of the same awkward pauses as the conversations they’d had after Jenny’s party. But after two weeks of fighting monsters and breaking bones, it seemed like they’d finally got past the awkwardness. Christine grabbed for Nancy’s pens and tried to scrawl a long list into Steve’s pro-column, which all looked like chicken scratch cause she was using her left hand. Nancy had plied her for all the information she could remember about hanging out with Jonathan in middle school, before he’d ditched AV club for the art department. Christine held back her comments about the stalker photos, even as Nancy wrote it on the page, and added her own line to Steve’s cons.

“Dumb as dirt.” –Barbara Holland

Dinner was a quiet affair. Mr. Wheeler seemed to like it that way, even if it made the meal feel more tense. After a week of eating with them, Christine was beginning to understand why Nancy hated mealtime so much. It was nice to have a large family to sit with, but Christine would take a low-key takeout meal with her dad any day.

After about fifteen minutes, Mike asked to be excused. He’d barely touched his food, but his mother didn’t put up a fight as he disappeared into the basement.

“He’s like this all the time, now,” Mrs. Wheeler said to Christine, as if she hadn’t watched Mike do the same thing for the past five days. “I just don’t understand it. After all that, Will comes back. You think he’d be ecstatic.”

“I think he’s just drained, Mom,” said Nancy. She was free to defend her brother so long as he wasn’t in the room. “He went through a lot. He just needs time to process.”

“I know. I just wish he’d eat…”

“Actually, do you mind if I’m excused too?” Christine asked. “The meatloaf is delicious, Mrs. Wheeler. My pain meds are just affecting my appetite.”

“Oh, of course. I’m so sorry, Christine.”

“It’s fine. Thank you.”

Nancy got up, wheeling her chair around into the living room. Without instruction, she looped around until they’d reached the door to the basement.

“Think you can get down there okay?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Christine assured her. “Down is fine. I just need to convince Mike to carry me back up.”

Nancy smiled, patted her on the shoulder, and walked back to the dining room.

It took Christine some time to situate herself. She stumbled out of her chair with as little noise as possible, and swung the door to the basement open. Then she had to ease herself onto the floor. It was tough to close the door behind her, and even harder to do it quietly, but she managed it by the tips of her nails and a quiet click.

“Okay, Mike,” she called down. “If you want me to leave, you better say it now, cause it’s gonna take me about five minutes to get down these stairs.”

There was no response.

Christine grit her teeth, and with one hand on the banister, began to scoot her way down the staircase. She had to go one step at a time, moving her good leg and then her butt. Her cast hung awkwardly out in front of her, dangerously close to smacking the stairs or the railing. But finally, she was able to hop down the last few steps.

“You’re gonna break your other leg.”

Mike had not looked up. He was sitting in the blanket fort under the table, his radio in his hands. It hummed faintly, but the sound was steady. There was no warbling interference or mysterious voices to be heard.

“Well you could always help me,” Christine reminded him.

“Nah. It’s funny to watch you hop around.”

“Glad my pain amuses you.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, and hopped the last few feet to the fort. He scooted over so there was room for her, and lifted the blanket roof so it could clear her head.

Neither of them said anything. They listened to the static on the supercomm, Mike occasionally changing the channel in case he could get a different result. It must have been ages before he finally turned it off.

“I do it too, you know.” Christine stared down at the radio. “Leave my stereo on, scan through the channels. It’s driving my dad up the wall.”

“Have you heard anything?”

She shook her head.

“Then how do we know if she’s out there?”

“Cause she’s Eleven,” Christine said with a shrug. “I think she was a lot stronger than either of us knew. And if Will can survive in the Upside Down for a week, I’m sure she can.”

“Twelve.”

Christine turned to Mike, her brow furrowed. “What?”

“It’s been twelve days,” he explained. “That’s more than a week. That’s almost two weeks. If she’s still there…”

“Then maybe she’s not,” said Christine. “It’s like the magazine, remember? Sometimes you can’t control where you come out or…”

“No.” Mike shook his head down at the radio. “She’s here. I know it, I just…I don’t know why she won’t come home.”

That sat in silence again, until he felt comfortable enough to confide one other thing.

“I thought I saw her. When we got back from the school. There were all these agents here, talking to my parents, telling them we had to let them know if she contacted us. And I swore I saw her in the window. I’ve done everything I can to get her back. I’ve tried calling her. I’ve tried leaving out Eggos. I even left the fort up. I don’t understand.”

“Mike,” Christine said softly. “If your house in under surveillance, coming back here is the last thing she’d do.”

“What about your house, though? It’s safe haven, right?”

“It was. But they know about me too. My place was crawling with agents when you guys were hiding in the junkyard. I wouldn’t be surprised if they opened up all my phones and put bugs and stuff in them.”

“Do you think that’s how they found us?” he asked brokenly. “At the school?”

“No.” Christine clenched her jaw. “No, I don’t think that’s how they found you.”

“Then what did we do?”

Christine twisted on the floor, grabbing one of Mike’s hands.

“We didn’t do anything wrong. You saw her, right? She’s out there, somewhere. She’s alive and she’s hiding, and we both know how good she is at that. I think…I think we just have to accept that wherever she is…we’re not what she needs right now. It’s too dangerous, with either of us.”

“But this is home. She…She has to come back.”

Mike took his hand back, covering his mouth as he coughed. It was a suspiciously wet cough, but Christine let him cry in peace. She didn’t want to wound his pride.

Maybe this, she thought. Maybe this was really the worst part. Not the lying, or the injuries, but the not knowing. The closure that no one could give them.

She leaned a shoulder against one of the chairs that was acting as a column for the fort.

“She will, Mike. I know it. My blanket fort’s still up too.”

#ocappreciation #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things oc #fyeahstrangerthingsocs #chapters #chapter 23

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bentnotbroken1fanfiction · 4 years

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Can't Keep Pretending

Part XIV

Another Christmas came and went in Hawkins, and Billy happily waved it goodbye. Well, maybe not happily, he doesn't really do happy, but he was not sorry to see it go.

It's just that...holidays have felt so hollow to him since his mom left. There is just this big empty space inside of his chest where her smiles used to be. Where her special Christmas pancakes spoiled and his innocent spirit went to die.

At least his misery had company the first couple of years. His dad hadn't even bothered to put up a tree, and refused to attend the Christmas service she had always insisted that they go to. They'd passed the month barely acknowledging each other, and for once the bruises on his body had time to heal.

But then Neil had met Susan. Susan with her cute elf earrings and boxes of ornaments, with her bright eyed daughter who wanted a real Christmas tree, who his father absolutely adored, and Billy watched helplessly as the emptiness inside of Neil disappeared almost overnight.

And suddenly Billy was alone in his pain. Alone in his longing. Alone with a deep bitterness in his heart.

He's been alone ever since.

So yeah, he kind of despises the holidays. And while they had been nearly unbearable before, they proved to be even worse now, because he had no means to escape them.

He couldn't just leave when it got to be too much, when his chest ached and his eyes stung. He couldn't just run off and lose himself in a cloud of bad weed and easy girls. Not that he particularly wants those things now, but anything would have been preferable to the endless drone of Susan singing along to Christmas songs while she baked and found the perfect places for her ten different nativity sets.

And fuck, Susan goes way overboard with the decorations and festive attire, but he has never been able to bring hinself to give her shit over it. Because when she uses a cookie cutter to make her cookies look like Santa Hats, when she smears a bit of icing on Max's nose to hear her squawk, when she laughs loudly and joyfully without restraint…she reminds him of his mom.

Maybe that's the real reason he wants to run away.

He can't bear to see what he could have had if she'd stayed. Can't bear to think of what he could have had with Susan and Max if his father hadn't broken him.

Because he is.

Broken.

He won't ever be normal, won't ever be able to love someone without hurting them. Won't ever have an easy time showing that he cares, and it's not just because he'd been possessed.

It's because Neil has been trying to beat the emotions out of him since he was ten years old.

But all he'd really managed to accomplish was twisting how he expressed them. He still cried, still felt humiliation, still choked on fear. But the anger was all anyone could ever see.

So maybe it's better now. Maybe it's better that he feels things like they're far away, like he's walking around half numb, like the mind flayer took some of him back to the Upside Down when it left.

But even with his dulled as shit emotions, he'd still felt the stinging pain of loss when the tree lit up the whole living room and snow started falling outside.

He'd wanted so desperately to get away from it all. The tree, the snow, the music, the cookies, his family.

He'd needed to escape.

So he'd waited until his dad left the house, waited until Susan was busy wrapping gifts in her room, waited until Max stopped looking at him like she was worried, to pick up the phone. It was almost too easy to call Harrington, because he'd told Billy that his parents would only be around for Christmas Day, so if anyone knew what kind of loneliness lurked inside of Billy, it'd probably be him.

He'd sounded exhausted when he'd initially answered but he was already agreeing to come get him before Billy even finished asking.

Maybe Harrington needed an escape too?

He was proven right when he quietly watched other sad similarities pile up throughout the night. Like when the older boy told Billy that he used to love Christmas, but his heart just wasn't in it anymore. That he felt like something was missing.

And Billy understands.

And he also understands why there were mostly empty whiskey bottles on his kitchen counter and crystal glasses in the sink. Why it looked like he'd been sleeping on the couch, if he was even sleeping at all. And why he looked like he'd had more episodes since Billy had seen him last.

He'd tried to get Harrington to talk about it, but he hadn't really wanted to. So they ended up talking about Max and how big of a mother hen she was these days, about Robin and her obsession with getting Harrington laid, about how Hawkins felt so small.

Then he'd dropped Billy back off around midnight so Max wouldn't flip out when she inevitably went into his room to check on him and he wasn't there.

That had been two weeks ago, and now the tree is being packed up and the decorations are gone and the New Year is upon them and Billy just has one resolution.

Figuring out what to do about Steve Harrington.

Part XIII

Series on AO3

#cant keep pretending series #post s3 ficlet series #harringrove #holiday angst #these boys need hugs

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getyourvitamin-bri · 5 years

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Okay so I did one of these last season and I once again felt the urge to rant about how much I love each and every character on this show.

*SPOILERS BELOW*

Eleven // El // Jane who continues to be my personal favorite character on this show. God this season she reached new levels of being a badass. Can we take a moment to just appreciate how strong and brave she is, she just keeps going even when she is scared. And those fight scenes were just phenomenal, they didn’t make her seem invincible which I love cause its her tenacity that really makes her so strong and interesting. I loved the story line where she basically is becoming a normal kid discovering new “rules”, her own style, her personality, we get to see the type of person she’s becoming on screen and its done so well.

Mike Wheeler Okay I’ll be honest I always liked mike but it was always more aww he and El are so cute together not mike individually. But I felt this season fleshed out his character a little more. We get to see him just being a normal dumb teenager. That opening scene where he starts singing and being a dork really made me love his character, also him and Lucas ranting about girls was hilarious. Most of all though you could see how much he cares about El is taken into account in all his actions even when they were wrong. Overall I though he was really adorable and compared to my younger cousins a realistic teenage boy.

Lucas Sinclair Lucas always gives some of the best dialogue in my opinion (must run in his family) and I think it kinda gets overlooked sometimes. This season his whole thing about teaching mike about girls was hilarious and something I totally picture a young teenage boy thinking. He’s really quick witted and stubborn and I love him, his and max’s dynamic I think just fits well somehow.

Dustin Henderson God he is such an adorable marshmallow I want to protect. He just always makes me smile, he’s honestly the perfect mix of smart and adorable. This season once again shows how committed he is to science and finding the truth of things, he’s so determined once he starts a mission and I’m so happy he found a girl to appreciate him. That song they sang together melted me in to a puddle.

Will Byers I honestly felt we didn’t get enough of will this season I mean I get it, theirs a lot of characters not enough time but we’ve steadily been getting to know him more and I fine myself with more questions about him. He’s so sweet and different than a lot of teenage boys portrayed on television and its this uniqueness that makes me want to get to know him more. I just really feel for him and how he wanted to go back to how things were before.

Max Hargrove Max is quickly rising in the ranks for me in becoming another favorite character. She is just so stubborn and witty and blunt I love it. Most of all this season I love her and El’s friendship. I though they were gonna hate each other from what happened last season but thank god the writers took it in this direction cause I need more shopping trips and sleepovers. I myself am more of a tom boy and seeing a girl who skates and says whats on her mind just makes me really happy.

Jonathon Byers I don’t have much new to say about Jonathan this season, I still love him and how much he cares about will, that scene where he and Nancy fight in the car, wow by the end I’ll be honest I felt for both of them cause I could understand both their points.

Nancy Wheeler She continues to be super tenacious and definitely a fighter. Her tenacity can lead to good and bad things but its a constant and I love that about her. She dealt with such sexism and never let it stop her from thinking of big dreams. She's an icon honestly and I love how brave she is, she has the traits of a great reporter.

Steve Harrington I admit I didn’t dig Steve in season 1 but he is now my second favorite character because how can he not be. His whole parent dynamic with the kids, its fucking adorable. His hair is gorgeous. He may not know everything in the world but he’s just unabashedly himself. Adorable, confident and above all caring. You could see how much he just cares about all the other characters, he respects dustin and the other kids and he’s friends with them because he doesn’t just see them as kids he see them as friends. I’m excited to see more of his character as he learns to prioritize things that are actually important not things society tells you are important.

Jim Hopper *SOBS* I always loved hopper but I loved dad hopper the most. Him and El had this unique dynamic that I just wanted more of. He’s wasn’t perfect by any means (anger issues lol) but he cared so fucking much about everyone and he just didn’t know how to express it. I sobbed when El read his speech but it felt like such a good ending though, you finally get to hear what was behind all that frustration about El and mike, he just missed her. I miss him.

Joyce Byers She fucking mom of the year. I love her so much. You just know she would do anything for those kids. This season continued to showcase how much of a badass she is, she took no shits from people and she did what she had to do to make sure nothing happened to her son. Also this who Joyce and Jim dynamic was beautiful cause they just pushed each other up and if they had the chance I feel like they would have been a awesome team keeping those kids out of trouble.

Billy Hargrove I think seeing into his mind, seeing what makes billy do the things he does, what makes him into who he was, was just done so well. It shows how people and their actions always have reasons. We are made up of our experiences in life and no character shows this more than billy, he was handed an unlucky hard life and under all that attitude he was just a boy who loved his mom. I’m sad we did get to see him grow and learn and I loved how well the actor did this season it was phenomenal.

Murray Bauman He was a more important player this season and I loved his and Alexei’s dynamic. He’s brings some humor into any scenes he is in, seeing him pretend to be a communist was hilarious just all around no complaints, he’s a great character and he like all the characters has compassion for people, he wants to help save people and has flaws that make him well rounded.

new*

Erica Sinclair just give this child a round of applause. Every single word from her mouth made me laugh my ass off and appreciate her. She is the queen of sass on this show. She is confident. She is hella brave. She is so smart. She is a fucking icon and I look forward to seeing everything she said made in to gifs cause I love her with all my soul and look forward to her having an even bigger roll in the next season.

Robin Another newbie, she like max is not the like most teenage girls portrayed on tv, she's the real thing, she’s unique and really funny and true to herself. With every scene I just find myself wanting to know more about her and her past. Her whole “you suck” board was hilarious, she's just incredibly likable you can’t help but root for her.

Dr. Alexei By far the most surprising character for me to like, you first see him and you do not expect to get attached to him, just like barb and bob. Stranger things just gives us these character we never expect to come to love so much and leave us heart broken cause we don’t get enough of them. He just wanted a cherry slushie and its these small things that just bring him down to our level. Like yes Alexei there is a difference between cherry and other flavors, yes it is funny that hopper and Joyce haven’t banged, yes. He’s just adorable and I didn’t expect to be so sad when he died.

Sorry for the grammar & if I forgot someone I wrote this hella late. Heres link to my thoughts on last season. You might not agree with everything I say and thats totally cool just please don’t be rude.

stanger things 2

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whorror-jpeg · 6 years

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Owner of A Lonely Heart

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: You help your best friend, Steve after his bad breakup with Nancy, which leads to something much more.

Prompts: nonnnneeeee

Song: Owner Of A Lonely Heart- Yes

Request: nope :)

Warning(s): cursing, angst, breakups.

Word count: 1.1k

Authors note: I completely forgot I had this in my Google Docs and welp here ya go.

You were sitting in bed, reading a book for your literature class when you heard knocking on your window. You opened your curtains to reveal none other than Steve Harrington. Instead of the nice smile you’d come to adore on the boy, his face was shrouded in sadness and near panic, his eyes red and glistened over.

You opened the window quickly, letting him in, he jumping in. You waited for him to call himself a ninja, but there wasn’t a joke to be made. Not tonight, anyway. “Hey, (Y/L/N).” he greeted sadly.

“I thought you went to a party with your girlfriend?”

“Well here I am, at your house, girlfriendless.” he tried joking, doing his famous sad jazz hands. He let his hands drop, inhaled, and let a few tears fall.

“Hey, hey, hey! What happened?” you asked, coming to hold his face in your hands.

“She doesn’t love me, (Y/N). We’re bullshit, apparently.” he chuckles, despite the situation.

“Oh Steve.” you wiped his eyes,”Let’s go downstairs, watch a movie, eat fat stuff, yeah?” He nodded, wiping his nose as you took his other hand and guided him through the empty house. Growing up with Steve, you had at least one major thing in common, and that was frequently absent parents. And it’s not like Steve had to climb through your window, your parents adored your best friend, the first time he did it when he was 14 to scare you- knowing you were watching a scary movie, it became a tradition.

He sat on your couch while you made popcorn and brought out some ice cream to defrost. When the popcorn was ready, you grabbed the bag, two spoons, and the tub of ice cream, before coming back into the living room. Steve hadn’t moved, instead, he had his head in his hands, sobs quietly racking his body. You put the food on the coffee table and gave him the tissue box that held residence on the side table. He took it and blew his nose while you put in The Outsiders, a movie you and Steve adored, as well as the book. When you sat back down, you put a pillow in your lap and guided the still sobbing boy to lay in your lap. You’d never seen him like this. You always saw Steve Harrington: The Basketball Star, or Steve Harrington: King of Hawkins High, never Steve Harrington: The Broken-Hearted Boy. The last time you saw him cry was when he was 14 and his parents had started leaving him home alone. He felt like his parents didn’t love him, but you assured him they did, they just had jobs.

About an hour in, you noticed he’d fallen asleep while you played with his hair (which he never let you do, he had just been so emotionally drained and couldn’t deny that it calmed him down). You’d tried not to laugh as you saw a spoon in his hand, his other arm cuddling the now melted and nearly empty tub of ice cream. You decided to clean up the mess you’d made and turned off the movie. You had left him with his head on the pillow and replaced the ice cream tub with another pillow, before taking off his shoes and covering him up. You ended up in bed later after kissing Steve’s forehead and turning the lights off.

From there, it was a nightly occurrence for nearly a month, but you noticed he’d gotten worse with his sleep. At times you’d wake up with him still awake, gaining no sleep. Other times, you’d wake up from him screaming, having to run downstairs and tell him everything was okay. You didn’t know where his PTSD was coming from, but he needed help, soon.

You had confronted Nancy about their relationship, tired of seeing your best friend crying every night or drinking himself to sleep. Sometimes you had to force Steve to take a shower, or to eat something other than those stupid peanut butter crackers he loved.

“What the fuck, Nancy?” you grabbed her shoulder while she was talking to Jonathan, seemingly her new boyfriend.

It was like she knew what you were talking about, “Can we not do this here?”

Jonathan gripped his bag tightly, swaying nervously. “No. What the fuck, Nancy? He was in love with you, he is in love with you. Do you understand he’s been at my house every goddamn night sobbing?”

“Really?”

It dawned on you that Nancy was still the nice girl, she truly hadn’t known what was going on with her ex-boyfriend.

You sighed, “Nancy, you broke his heart. If you didn’t love him, why’d you lead him on? Let alone break up with him intoxicated?”

“I didn’t mean to, okay? It just happened, and I planned on it for a while.”

You shook your head, “I really can’t believe you right now.”

“I would’ve broken up with him sooner, okay? I just stopped feeling what I thought I was feeling.”

You looked up, angry, “What you thought you were feeling? I-”

You stopped when you saw the tall boy, staring hopelessly at the girl he loved. He’d heard everything.

This led to him asking you to skip school with him, and you accepted, so long as you could drive because Steve was crying too damn much to see the road.

You had worked with him, making sure he was getting better every single day, not letting him talk to Nancy, making sure he took a different route to his classes to avoid her. It got to the point where he could look at her, and it’d be okay. Yes, he’d be a little upset, but he was glad she was doing okay. They even started to talk again. You were proud of him, and on a warmer sunnier day, you took a drive, going on spring vacation together to camp at a lake a little ways away, the windows rolled down, sunglasses on, your feet out of the window, blasting Journey, and laughing. It was the spring before the two of you graduated.

You’d talked about your future; you wanted to study in college, and he wanted to stay in Hawkins and help out in the police force. You promised you’d visit all the time.

He was holding your hand while driving, stupidly singing and dancing to the music, before pulling over, stopping the car, turning down the music, and looking you. You put your feet in the car and looked at him while he took off his sunglasses. Without saying anything, he reached over, cupped your jaw and kissed you.

“I had to get that out of the way, sorry.” he laughed. You stared at him, smiling.

“I hate you, Harrington, and the things you make me feel.” you laughed, intertwining your fingers with his as he put the car in gear and drove off again.

#steve harrington #Nancy Wheeler #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #ST

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tricklingstreamdacre · 6 years

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Let Me Have This; Steve x Reader [Last People on Earth AU]

STEVE HARRINGTON x FEM!READER

SUMMARY: You’re the last people left in the world, it’s a hard reality to face knowing you’ll be the last ones here. But you’re going to make the most of it.

WARNINGS/NOTES: ANGST (oh my god), death (of like the world?+ animals), suicidal thoughts, car crash, blood

REQUEST: The people want more Steve what can I say (thanks @heckin-harrington ) WORD COUNT:

A/N: THIS IS THE LAST POST OF AU WEEK IT’S NOW MY BIRTHDAY I’M HAPPY Y’ALL

You were the last person on earth for ninety days.

Feet dangling off a plummeting cliff, the air pushing your hair behind your shoulders you wondered what would happen if you pushed yourself over. Left behind the world reduced to nothing but a wasteland and nothingness.

It was laer that morning you had met Steve Harrington.

Driving in another hijacked car you pulled up in another town searching for food to collect and resources to pick. You spoke to yourself loudly to numb the deafening silence around you, even if the birds still chirped and the flies still hovered. You thought back to the cliff while tossing a rock in your hands poorly, as the thoughts became more vivid you threw the rock into a glass pane of a music store next to you and heard it smash into a million pieces and scatter on the floor.

The sound was loud, the loudest thing you’d heard since your screams into open fields as you travelled the US alone. The thought made you let a tear fall from your face as you stood amongst the broken glass. Your fists clenched looking into the store filled with cobwebs and dust.

The sound of footsteps were ones you ignored, it reminded you of day sixty roaming the streets New York and you could feel the people around you bustling in hoards.

But these footsteps were real.

When they got quicker you frowned and turned around before seeing the silhouette of a boy your age.

You freaked, your heart skipped beats, eyes widened beyond your own knowledge and you felt your head spin as he walked closer with a similar shock.

“I’m going crazy,” you mumbled as your eyes started blurring his face coming closer. But he didn’t seem to slow and as you saw his greasy hair, pale complexion and large eyes and took it all in.

“No- you’re, you’re real right?”

You paused, the question was so weird, his voice was so foreign and you felt yourself cry with the most happiness you’d had in months.

“I-I’m real.” you paused, he stared tensely as you reached out for him, feeling the side of his face and tears poured down your face as you processed his existence, “Y-You’re real.”

You hugged him tightly, he hugged back just as quick and you could feel his tears stain your jacket as he thanked gods you weren’t sure he even believed in.

You were one of the last people on earth for another two years.

Standing side by side for months that turned to years you couldn’t even guarantee the days wondering if you’d forgotten to mark them off. But you found yourself clinging to Steve Harrington like a lifeline because he was the only reason you’d stayed.

You’d marked down every state in the US, travelling as far you could go and explored every mansion you found as if it was a virtual reality game. The two of you tried to experience things you’d always wanted to, took whatever you had wanted as a kid.

You sung on famous stages, visited famous sets, stole from the richest stores and hung onto small souvenirs from every place you visited. Your favourite was the photo’s you’d get from a working photobooth you spent hours in.

Because in the last one he kissed you.

Ever since the kiss you too had loved each other unconditionally, considering it might be because you were the last, but not caring, holding hands as you slept every night.

You were one of the last people for three years.

It was the third anniversary of your meeting, you were looking through an antique store eating cookies that didn’t go out of date when you heard a cough from behind.

Turning around Steve on one knee held a simple but beautiful ring in his hand and proposed to you.

You cried and kissed him as he slid it on your finger.

You had a June wedding in a beautiful dress you found in that very antique store.

Spending the night dancing for hours to a stack of mixtapes with a million songs to listen to, laughing and smiling, by the time your feet were blistering he dragged you to bed and stared into your eyes blessing the world for giving him one thing to love in this world.

Many nights were spent talking of past, these kids called Dustin, Mike, Max, Lucas, Will, Elle and his friends Nancy, Jonathan and some estranged one called Billy who had spent his last moments trying ‘to make things right’.

You talked of family, things you wished you’d done and things you regret. You cried into each other's arms when necessary, everything was free and sacred between you, for only the two of you to hear. Husband and wife in your early twenties.

You were the last couple on earth for four years.

You coughed for the third time during dinner and Steve looked at you worried, but you waved it off took some medicine that wasn’t out of date and went to bed thinking of the trip to the bowling alley you’d planned for tomorrow.

When you woke up Steve was outside picking out fruit and vegetables to eat, a dog, a stray you’d found alongside him dropping a ball at his feet every minute or so. You smiled standing on the veranda of the small house you’d been sleeping in the past few months.

“How you feeling?”

“Better, I told you not to worry,” you reassured as your hands wrapped around his waist the sound of your dog panting filling the area.

“Well don’t do it again.”

“Don’t cough?”

“Don’t get sick,” he elaborated, “I don’t want to lose you to a cold.”

“Don’t worry about that.” you waved off picking up the ball and throwing it into the large field.

Steve looked at you anxious, it seemed you forgot how risky your life with him was. He wasn’t a doctor, there would only be so much he could do before he’d just have to watch you fade away.

But you said it wouldn’t happen. So he didn’t have to worry.

He would have to worry about something else.

“Dustin!” you called, but the dog was gone.

You and Steve had been searching the lonely town for hours, but your dog you’d come to love and cherish had disappeared into thin air and you were both extremely concerned.

“We should go into the forest we found him,” you explained, “It’s the only place I can think of.”

He nodded and you both rode bikes there and started searching together, you had made a rule two months into knowing each other; never split up.

It started raining, hard, you were glad you brought an umbrella but Steve was getting worried at the idea of one of you two getting sick and was trying to get you to go home, but you refused to.

“I think I heard him!” you yelled out as the rain muffled your words, “Over there!”

He grabbed your wrist, “Y/N we need to go back.”

“I’m not leaving Dustin here!” you replied, the mention of Dustin softened his grip and you wandered further into the rain. He called out for you to stop but soon he couldn’t hear you.

He couldn’t see you.

Steve was the last person on earth for two weeks.

Watching Dustin dropped the ball at your feet, he let his face screw up in a mix of anger and sadness as he screamed at the dog and threw the ball so far into the field the grass now overgrown before storming back inside and locking the dog in the open.

“Please come back to me,” he mumbled between tears and a clenched throat, his hair dirty and his eyes sunken in and burning red.

The silence was killing him, the silence at dinner as his cutlery scrapped against the plate alone had him shaking, even managing to spill his juice over the tablecloth.

But the world would show him mercy when you appeared at the door covered in bruises, pale and weak barely breathing at his doorstep.

Screaming shits as he forced water down your throat and food in your mouth, he panicked his hands fumbling and shaking as he laid you on the bed giving you medication and disinfectants for every scratch you had.

You remember looking up at Steve, eyebrows slightly furrowed and your hands dragging over his face softly, it seemed to calm and still him and he finally looked into your eyes. They were shaking with adrenaline, you smiled breath hoarse, “I love you so much Steve.”

You and Steve were the last people on earth for one more year.

Burying Dustin in the ground it proved to be a wake-up call for the two of you, you’d forgotten about death as you only experienced it once on a mass occasion so many years ago you were numb to the memories. You held each other knowing what you were thinking but not speaking a word of it. Because you were both thinking about what would happen if one of you died, and the other had to stay here.

Two days later you were driving in a new car, you had tried to leave your existential crisis in the dust and appreciate the life ahead of you, you were out of town for awhile, you’d made a small machine to keep the plants watered and were now ready to visit some states and explore like the old days.

You weren’t paying attention to the road because there was nothing to see, you held hands tightly and hummed in unison to the song on the radio. A song you’d listen to a hundred times yet never gotten bored of, you could even play it on the piano a skill you picked up after practising and reading several books.

Steve fiddled idly with you ring a band on his as well, he felt content and happy, now well into his twenties he imagined what kind of life he had ahead.

You both said no kids, not only did it seem too risky for you but there would be no outcome, or two kids doomed to live alone when your inevitable pass, then what?

Giggling you started to sing louder to the song playing taking the sombre moment and creating laughter. You started to sing louder and louder and Steve joined as you danced spastically and without technique.

“Do you think we’re really the only ones?”

Steve shook his head, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” you paused, “What if their people in... Australia?”

He laughed and turned to you, “Maybe.”

He didn’t notice the large ditch in the road.

Going beyond the speed limit the second it hit and dipped one wheel of the car you felt yourself getting thrown throw the glass of the car and launched onto the road beside Steve.

You could feel the broken bones in your body, you could feel the glass in your face and hands as you let out a guttural cry.

Steve, less injured than you but still bleeding from his head, looked over at you in shock. He managed to crawl towards you with shaky feet and kneel beside you, he felt his heart leaping from his chest and stabbing itself.

“Oh my god Y/N.” he mumbled cradling your head.

“How bad is it Steve?” you breathed out as you looked into his eyes tears of pain flowing from your eyes, you tried to look down at your lower half but couldn’t so Steve did it for you.

He could only look for half a second.

“I-It’s fine Y/N.” he said, “It’s fine.” he reaffirmed trying to convince himself more than you. But with dirt in your hair as blood flowed from your nose and mouth you knew better, you could barely feel anything yet feel everything all at once.

“You know I love you Steve right?”

He nodded, “I love you too, you know that.”

You nodded slowly throat tightening, “Right.”

Taking a deep breath you started to shake and you felt yourself pale as everything started to tingle in your body, “And you know I won’t hold anything against what you do when I’m gone... right?

“Once you’re gone?” he questioned, “No you’re not leaving yet.” he denied his head shaking causing his head to pound harder.

You saw it in his eyes, the fear and denial and you let out a large sob as more tears spilt from your eyes into your mouth, “I’m not going anywhere, I’ll always be with you.”

He nodded, “Right, because you’re fine, you’re safe I’ll protect you-”

“You have.” you confirmed, “And I love you so much.”

You could feel everything around you blur, and it wasn’t from the tears, everything started melting and you took in the last clear look of your husband.

Steve looked down at your weakening body with adrenaline and fear, he wasn’t a doctor he didn’t know what to do.

“Wha do I do Y/N? I don’t know what to do.” he explained his voice high and desperate as he looked at you mouth open and tears and snot falling from his face, “Don’t leave me yet.”

“I’m not.” you confirmed, you felt a small jolt of adrenaline allow you to lift your hand and drag it over Steve’s face for the last time, like you’d done the first time you met him, like you’d done when he kissed you for the first time, like you’d done when you said ‘I do’ and when he saved you.

Though his face was wet and slightly cold, you felt comforted, “I’m always with you Steve. Promise me you’ll remember that.”

“I will,” he replied quickly, “I won’t forget, I’ll never forget you.”

“Good.” you whispered your eyes fluttering closed, “That’s good...”

Steve was the last person on earth for three days.

Standing in front of the small house he lived in forever he looked over to the small grave with Dustin written on a wooden board and then looked to his left where adorned in flowers your name was sketched as neat as Steve could attempt in a wooden board that sat in the dirt.

In his hands was a box, filled with your favourite souvenirs the world had to offer, mixtapes, photos and rings, wedding dresses and letters you had written in case someone ever happened to find this.

Steve wrote a long letter in careful detail though messily as he hadn’t had much need for writing in years. It had your final words, anything he thought important, any moment he loved the most. He wished he could write it all.

But after reading it once more he placed the letter in the box and left it inside the house, locked it and turned away warily as he coached himself not to look back.

Don’t look back Steve... Don’t do it.

He stepped into a car and slammed the door looking at the road ahead. And he wondered; how many days could he be the last man on earth with an angel following him everywhere he went.

Tell me your thoughts xxx

#au week #it's over #i'm giving you angst 101 for my birthday #stranger things au #steve harrington au #last people on earth au #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things headcanons #stranger things oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington gif imagine #steve harrington oneshot #steve imagine #steve harrington x reader

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leroyparker · 6 years

Text

take it easy

Steve and Max talk some things through

It was lunchtime at Hawkins High School, which meant Steve Harrington was feeling sorry for himself.

He hadn’t chosen to do this, not really. He’d just sort of… ended up here.

After he and Nancy had officially broken up, Steve had been left with one terrible revelation: he didn’t have any friends.

It was a sad truth, one that he’d come to grips with the Monday after everything had ended, standing in the bright white cafeteria and looking over crowds of people who wanted nothing to do with him.

Nancy and Jonathan wouldn’t look at him without terrible expressions of guilt and shame overcoming their faces, something that made Steve feel physically ill. Billy wouldn’t stop glaring daggers at him, even when he was talking to other people. At least he didn’t talk to him anymore, but Tommy sure as hell hadn’t gotten the message, always throwing out a new slur or insult that Steve just found pathetic. Carol had seemingly forgotten he even existed… not that he really wanted her to remember, anyway.

That was how most people seemed to think of him actually, that is to say, they didn’t think of him at all. There were a few girls, mostly freshmen or sophomores, who didn’t seem to understand how low he’d dropped, and would still take every opportunity to flirt with him. He supposed he could’ve eaten with them, but he didn’t see the point. It wasn’t like he wanted any of them, anyway, and if there was one thing he’d learned over the past couple weeks, it was that leading people on hurt more than anything.

So this had become his new routine-- sitting his car with all the windows rolled up, blasting Journey until his heart hurt just a bit less. He wished he could smoke, but the smell of cigarettes never really left leather, and he didn’t want to drive Dustin around in a car that could probably give him lung cancer.

Steve wasn’t sure when he started basing his decisions off of the health and safety of a few thirteen-year-olds, but he guessed it was nice to have some reason to stop sabotaging himself.

“I’ll be alright without you,” Steve mumbled along with the radio, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the seat. “There’ll be someone else, I keep telling myself…”

A knock at the window had Steve jumping. He flew forward, hitting his arm hard against the steering wheel, his eyes wide and his heart pounding in anxiety. He glanced around wildly before his eyes landed on a young girl frowning at him through his window, her face twisted in its usual state of confusion and disapproval.

Steve rolled down the window quickly, his heart slowly regaining its normal pace. “Max?” He asked dumbly. “Are you okay?”

Max paused before nodding, biting her lip. She glanced past him to the empty passenger seat. “Can I get in?”

Steve blinked, feeling anxious about this before nodding. She gave him a quick smile before walking to the other side. He leaned over and popped the door open for her and she quickly climbed in and closed it behind her.

“Is everything okay?” He asked slowly when Max stayed quiet. She sighed, pulling her legs up to sit criss-cross despite the lack of room. Her shoulders were tight and pulled up to her ears, her hair falling into her face.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said shortly, giving a nod. Her eyebrows were furrowed like she was thinking, and Steve decided to wait for her to follow through.

Steve nodded slowly, turning back to stare out his windshield. For a moment, they watched the various high schoolers wander around the parking lot, each as lost and awkward as the last.

“I just--” Max started suddenly, and he looked at her quickly. Her face was red and she looked nervous as hell. Steve frowned, not liking how uncomfortable she seemed. “I wanted to say thanks.”

Steve blinked, feeling very caught off-guard. He stared at her for a moment, and his confusion must’ve shown on his face, because when she looked up her face changed.

“Billy,” she said in lieu of an explanation. “For when you, you know. For that night.”

Steve nodded slowly. “I didn’t do much,” he admitted. “He definitely won that fight.”

Max closed her eyes like the words were painful for her. “I know. I know, and I’m… I’m really sorry about that. But still. You stood up to him. Nobody ever stands up to him.”

She said that firmly, like there wasn’t a hint of doubt in her mind. Steve suddenly got very worried about how many people Billy had terrorized over the years.

“But you did,” she continued, and Steve raised his eyebrows.

“You did too,” he pointed out. Max flushed, tensing up again and looking away from him. She seemed so on edge, it made Steve’s heart hurt.

“He was going to kill you,” she said quietly. “I couldn’t let him do that.”

Steve let a small smile cross over his lips. “I think I should be the one thanking you.”

Max frowned, that same expression of frustration and guilt on her face. “No, you shouldn’t. It-- it was my fault he was there in the first place. He was going to kill Lucas, and then he was going to kill you, and if I hadn’t been there, none of--”

“Max, hey,” Steve cut in sharply. She stopped, looking at him with wide eyes, and she looked so damn young and upset in that moment. “What happened wasn’t your fault. You saved me, okay? I save your ass, you save mine, yeah? That’s it. End of story.”

Max held his gaze for a moment, looking scared and nervous, but it slowly faded into a small expression of relief. Her shoulders dropped and she looked down at her lap. Her hair fell into her face, but Steve spotted the hint of smile before it was blocked from view.

“I can teach you how to use that bat,” Steve offered. He wasn’t really sure what he was doing. All he knew was that this kid and her friends were about the only people who actually gave a shit about him right then, and he didn’t want to risk losing that. “Not that you were bad, you were awesome. But I can teach you how to really swing.”

Max looked over at him, smiling widely.

“Yeah?” Her voice was full of excitement, and he grinned back. After a second, her eyes flitted to the steering wheel. When she looked back at him, there was challenge in her eyes. “Can you teach me to drive, too?”

The smile fell off Steve’s face, replaced with a look of horror. “After that stunt you pulled in the Camaro? Hell no.”

Max glared at him. “I’m gonna drive whether you teach me or not. You might as well show me how to stay in a lane. Keep the roads a bit safer.”

Steve shook his head, laughing despite himself. These kids were complete shits, and he couldn’t help but admire the hell out of them. “I’ll think about it. Baseball first.”

Max shrugged, a smile playing on her lips like she knew she’d won. She unfolded her legs and propped them up, her dirty converse resting on his dashboard. After a second, she reached out and switched to the radio station, the heartbreaking sounds of Journey cutting off. Steve stayed quiet, letting her do what she wanted. She flipped through the stations quickly until she finally found something she liked. She grinned and leaned back, head bobbing with the sounds of the guitar.

Steve laughed as he clued into the song. “The Eagles? Really?”

“Shut up,” Max shot back before starting to sing along. Steve chuckled for a while longer, but when the second verse came on, he couldn’t help but join.

“It’s a girl, my lord, in a flatbed Ford, slowing down to take a look at me,” they sang together, both rather off-key, but Steve didn’t mind. Max had relaxed, her feet tapping in perfect rhythm with the drums in the song.

Steve had never wanted a younger sister. He got the feeling, after Billy, Max had never wanted an older brother.

Fuck it, Steve thought decidedly as Max began playing the air guitar for the instrumental break. Sometimes you get stuck with things you don’t ask for.

He could get used to the Eagles. Journey was getting old anyway.

#this is so short i just wrote it in 20 minutes but its something #steve harrington #max hargrove #stranger things #stranger things fic

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