#murray bauman fanfiction

[usetheeauthor]

Let Me Show You (Fluff/Smut)

Insecure!Sub!Virgin!Murray Bauman x SoftDom!Fem!Reader

A/N: This fic is inspired by Radiohead’s “Creep”. One of my favorite songs ❤️ Enjoy!

Summary: It’s been 4 months, since you and Murray made it official. He wants to lose his virginity to you but he’s constantly insecure about about what you think of him. You show him just how much he means to you.

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warnings: graphic language, age gap (Murray 40s, Reader mid 20s), kissing, insecurities, oral (m & f receiving), riding, mirror sex, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, handjob, neck kisses, body worship, cum eating, light scratching, light biting, light choking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praise kink, crying during sex, aftercare

“You're just like an angel

Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather

In a beautiful world

I wish I was special

You're so fuckin' special”

Murray can’t help but compare the two of you when you’re together in public. He was sure that when people saw the two of you together that they’re all wondering why you’re with him.

When you were alone with him, it was different. It didn’t matter the difference in age or what points of life you were going through, you both had a relationship that transcended beyond any of those differences.

Yet, he can’t help but feel inadequate when he sees himself in the reflection standing next to you while you were getting ready for an outing with your friends.

He never imagined that he’d be so lucky to have you yet here you were by his side. He could feel his insecurities creeping in again like they always do whenever you went out. Sure, he loved when you dressed up only to come home to be his. But he can’t help but feel a bit nervous whenever you leave knowing they’ll be men, possibly better looking, hitting on you.

He’s never made the move to do anything passed kissing in previous relationships because of these feelings of inadequacy which have led to most of them failing. Now that he’s with you, he can’t see himself letting you go. He wanted to finally have that moment with you but couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

You were applying makeup when you noticed Murray frowning at his reflection. He stood there shirtless wearing only his pajama bottoms, rotating around in the wide mirror and checking himself. You could tell there was something wrong with him. He’s usually never this quiet.

“Hey, is everything okay?” You ask, softly.

He blinks a few times, turning to face you. “Oh yeah. I’m great,” He swipes a hand in the air as if he’s telling you to forget about it. “You look lovely as always.”

You smile. “Thank you. You know, you were invited, too. I would’ve liked it if you did. We could’ve gossiped to each other at the end of the night. My frenemy from high school will be there. I’m sure she’ll be so posh.” You rolled your eyes, now applying your earrings.

“I wish I could but I’m not feeling well.”

“I’ve noticed that. You’re barely spoken. That’s unlike you,” You poke fun. “Is something wrong? Would you like for me to stay with you instead? I can reschedule another time to hang—”

“No, no. Enjoy your night. You can tell me all the stories about your pretentious friend when you get back.”

“Frenemy,” You correct. “I don’t think she has the privilege to be called a friend yet.”

You wrap your arms around Murray’s neck and pull him in for a kiss. His lips against your feel almost timid and he awkwardly stands in a way that keeps a small distance between your bodies. You trail a hand down his soft, round belly then down to the waistband of his pajama pants, pulling him against you. This doesn’t warm him up to you, his body taut pressed into yours.

You pull away. “Murray, are you sure everything’s okay?”

He nods, placing a kiss on your forehead. He attempts to exit to the bedroom but your hand wraps around his wrist, keeping him from leaving. He’s confused, opening his mouth to say something. You cut off any chance of protest, pushing him forward in front of the mirror.

You stand behind him, your heels adding to your height making it easier to access his neck with your mouth. You placed wet, opened mouth kisses on his back and in the crook of his neck. He tried to keep himself from making any sounds, biting his lip. But when he felt your hands roaming up and down the front of his body, your long manicured nails scratching lightly, he lets out a small moan that spurs you on.

“That feel good, hun?” You ask, peppering kisses on his shoulder.

“Feels wonderful. Thank you.” His eyes flutter close, when he feels your red nails now lightly scratching down his arm and feeling the tiny goosebumps rising.

“Anything for you, baby. I love making you feel good. I can’t wait for the day you let me have you,” You lower your hands to his pants once again, gripping his thick hard cock through the loose fabric. “I’ll make sure I make you feel really fucking good then, too.”

You bite down on his earlobe in time with squeezing his cock and he swore he’d nearly came from that alone. Taking his hand in yours, sliding his hand down his body from the hairs of his chest down to his belly, wanting him to feel for himself. You slipped both your hands in his pajamas.

“I want you to watch. Open your eyes for me baby.” You kissed then sink your teeth his shoulder, eliciting a soft high-pitched whimper.

He opens them, looking at your reflection through hooded eyes. Your eyes meet in the mirror, staring intensely while you guided his hand to wrap around his heavy member. Removing your hand for a moment, you pull down his bottoms slightly. Then, your hand returns over his.

“Show me how to get you off? I wanna see what you look like when you cum. Please, baby. If you don’t want this, I’ll stop and we could forget this happened.”

He shakes his head, speaking in short phrases. “Don’t want to forget. Just want you. Wanted you for so long.”

“Have you ever touched yourself before?”

“Yes.” He groans when he feels your hand using his to glide up and down his cock.

“Do you think of me when you do it?”

“Yes, almost every night. I wanted you so bad. I couldn’t say anything.”

When you felt that he would carry on jerking himself off on his own, you moved your hand even lower, fondling his balls. He gasps, squeezing his hand harder around himself.

“Why couldn’t you say anything, baby? I want you just as bad. If not, more.” You squeezed tighter around his testicles each time you noticed him glide over the sensitive mushroom tip.

“You’re just so perfect. I’m not the right guy for you. I just don’t look the part. But I can’t lose you either.”

“You couldn’t possibly lose me. You’re so damn perfect the way you are. I love you and I can’t see myself without you. The truth is…I’ve also touched myself thinking of you every. single. night. I wanted to bring up taking things to the next level but I didn’t want to pressure you. But, god, you don’t know how many times I’ve been close to begging for just a little taste,” You bite his shoulder again, adding more pressure to his balls. “I want you to cum so bad. Let me show you how much I need you.”

You place a hand on the thick tip while he worked his base until a eventually his hands were on top of yours, showing you how to milk him the way he likes. The sounds of heavy breathing from both your mouths consume the atmosphere. Your free hand digs your nails into his side. He gasps. Then, you traced a finger around his areola.

“This feels so, so good but I don’t wanna come yet. I want to do that with you. To lose my virginity to you.” He admits.

“I’d be honored to be your first, hun. I wanna rock your world.”

“If I’m being honest, you’ve already accomplished that.”

“I will be calling off those plans. I want to take explore every inch of you tonight and commit you to memory. Let’s move this to the bedroom. ‘Kay, baby?”

You take his hand, not even bothering to give him the chance to pull up his pants as you push down on his shoulders and sit him on the edge of the bed.

You get on your hands and knees and immediately shove his cock down your throat with no warning to him. He groans super loud, fingers gripping the sheets and shifting them out of place.

You bob your head back and forth, savoring the salty, earthy taste of him. His thickness of his cock causing you to gag around him. You champion through it wanting to satisfy him. You let him hit the back of your throat and one hand flies to the back of your head, tugging you hair to stop you.

“No. Please. I won’t last.” He knows he sounds pathetic right now, pleading and whining.

You egg on his moans; teasing, sucking, grazing your teeth over his shaft. You look up at him, siren eyes boring into his lust-driven stare. His mouth open, slacked.

“You’re gonna cum for me. You’ll be coming for me as many times as I want today.”

You slurp all the saliva on his cock, holding it in your mouth to spit on top of his dick again. She suckles onto the sensitive head of the penis; tongue swiping left to right on the underside while one hand tugs up and down at the base. Murray had never seen such a scandalous sight. He’d dreamed of nights where you would be between his legs but none of those fantasies compare to what he witnessed and experienced now. Seeing you so starved to swallow his cock while doing such filthy things, brought him to an orgasm he didn’t expect to arrive so suddenly.

“Oh shit. Oh fuck. Y/N!” Even with his glasses on, his vision grows fuzzy. He comes so hard that he shuddering as if it were 2 degrees inside your apartment. You don’t let up once he writhes, drinking him for all he’s worthy. The salty taste of him has you addicted and your like a wild woman seeking every last drop of his essence.

He whines, feeling tears prick the corners of his eyes at the sensitivity of your mouth on him. When you finally pull off him, he’s lying on his back against the mattress and his arms spread out.

“I didn’t kill you, did I?” You laugh.

He’s breathing hard. “Nah——Well, maybe a little.”

“Sorry, got carried away. You just taste so damn intoxicating. I nearly sucked you dry.”

“Oh, I noticed.” He says, letting out a breathy laugh.

You pull off your dress and underwear off, still in your heels. You slide a foot up and down from his foot to his inner thigh, the heel scraping softly on the skin. He’s still sensitive to touch, wriggling each time you moved back up to his inner thighs.

“I’d fuck you with my heels on but…I’d rather not. At least not for tonight. If I’m gonna give you the ride of your life, I don’t want anything holding me back.” You kicked them off, staring at his exhausted frame sprawled out on the bed.

“I want you on my tongue. Please ride my face. I bet you’ll taste so sweet.” Murray begs, looking down between your legs to watch the pearls of wetness trickling down them.

You moaned. You’ve never been this wet for anyone before. He hasn’t done anything to you yet and already you were in heat.

You climbed over him, kissing up his body. You lick at his happy before dipping your tongue in his navel, swirling your tongue around. Then, resume to kiss his belly.

“So beautiful” You whispered against his skin.

Finally, your lips found his once again in a frenzied kiss. This time he was no longer restraining himself, kissing you back with a hunger that left you grinding your sloppy pussy against his dick. He groans into the kiss slipping his fat tongue into your mouth for you to suck on. Your creamy release coating along his length and stomach as you continue to grind hard against him.

He pulls away from the kiss and lets out a whine against your lips.“Let me taste you please.” He sounds as if he could cry.

“Cum for me first.” You bit your lip when you heard the sticky, wet sounds of your pussy moving over the head of his penis. Every now and then his dick would prod at your entrance whenever your hole settle just right about the tip.

“Love, this feels incredible but I’m not sure if I can go again. I’m no spring chicken. It’ll be a while.”

“Take the time you need, baby. I just need you to cum so that you to taste how good you and I taste mixed together because the third time you’ll cum, it’ll be deep and hard inside of me.”

“Holy shit. Please don’t talk like that.” He feels his grip on reality loosening and he’s afraid that if you continue to talk like that, he’ll never come out the same again. He’ll be giving you what you want a lot sooner.

“Why, baby, are you gonna cum again?”

“Y-yes.” His voice wavering, tears flowing down his face from the overstimulation.

“Then do it, Murray. Make me sticky with your cum.” You swipe your cunt over and over on him and he comes once again, crying out into the air and back arching of the bed. He grips your thighs for support as you continue to slide back and forth, milking some more. His grip tightens on your thighs and you were sure there’d be bruises there in the morning but it was worth it.

When you lift off of him, your pussy messy with a mixture of your fluids. You climb over his face, hovering over it. You gently run your fingers lightly over the balding top of his head. He looks up at you lovingly as if he’s never experienced this kind of tenderness. Soon that gentleness turns into rough play, when you tangle your fingers in his hair and yanked; his head coming up off the mattress a little. You removed his glasses, tossing it to the side.

“Stick your tongue out.” Your voice is heavy with lust as straining yourself from a whimper.

He obeys, sticking out his deliciously long, fat tongue. You shuddered at the sight of him. He looked so innocent; eyes staring up at you in submission and tongue out like such a good boy.

Murray was a talker and somedays you’d find yourself staring at his mouth as he rambled away. You knew for sure that he was talented with it just by your conversations. He’s going to wreck you and you happily accepted this fate.

You tug on his curls once more pulling his mouth closer between your legs. Rocking back and forth against his tongue, you bring one hand to your nipples and pinched.

“Oh god, you’re so good for me. Letting me use your tongue to get off. You’re amazing, baby. Fuck.” You mewled, face contorted like you were both in pain and pleasure.

You feel his lips close around your clit. You began to sob at the feeling of his beard against your slick core, crying out wherever he’d moved his head and tongue up and down your pussy to collect all your juices.

“So good. Love the taste of us, my goddess.” He says in between kisses on your pussy lips then sucking each lip to gather the cum that coated them.

He wraps his arms around your thighs bringing you down your full weight onto his mouth. He dips his tongue into your tight entrance and you gasp at the sudden action. His spongy, thick appendage fucks in and out your wet hole and you grind down on him.

Murray takes a hand to softly rake down your body as he fucks you on his tongue. You were close, rubbing your clit so that you can reach for the light behind your vision. Murray spots you doing this, sucking harder on your quivering flesh.

Then you’d finally touched the light, your vision going white. You scream so loud that it surprised yourself. Your release washes over Murray, wetting his lip and beard. You grind against him as he continued to nurse you through your orgasm.

When you lifted off his face, Murray could see your cunt pulsating from its awakening.

“Shit. I nearly passed out from that.” You giggled, sliding back down so that your pussy rested on his erection once more.

“I want to be inside you so bad it hurts.”

“I’ll get rid of that pain for you, love.”

Holding his cock steady, you place yourself over the big tip and slowly sunk down. You both let out a groan. You’d gone down only a quarter of his length. Although, you were slick and wet, it was still a tight squeeze.

Murray felt his patience run thin, slamming the rest of his length into you and bottoming out. Your breath is knock out of you.

“Fuck. You’re so huge, Murray.”

“Sorry, you just felt so warm and tight. I needed you around me.” His hands are on your sides, hips snapping up into yours and watching your breasts bounce from the force. His thrusts are desperate and deep. You toes curl and your could feel each impact causing you to gush all over him.

The sounds of squelching and the bed squeaking under you filling the room. You had to take the reigns or this would end soon and you wanted to spend every moment savoring this.

You yank his hands away from you, lifting up so that only the tip remained inside before you dropped down hard on him.

“God!” He cries out.

Murray was convinced that this had been a dream. It was too amazing of a feeling being inside you for it to be real. The way you consumed his cock into your tight, hot pussy and clenched around him as if you refused him from ever displacing himself. It was too good to be true. Then, your lips found his and he’s grateful to know that this was better than a dream.

Your tongues mingled with one another’s, fighting for dominance as you continued to slam hard against him. When you pulled away, you looked up and down at him. Memorizing his fuck out expression, his body hair clinging to his skin from sweat, the sweet little sounds that escaped his lips. If you had a camera, you’d photograph him and frame it for you to look at whenever you were apart.

“Goddamn, baby, you just don’t understand how fucking sexy you are to me,” You scratch down his chest and belly before wrapping a hand around his neck, grasping it tightly. “You were going to continue to keep this from me. I’ve ached and ached and ached for you.” You punctuate the word “ache” with timed thrusts against him.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” He cries out voice strained from your hand around around his throat. He attempts to stop you from grinding mercilessly against him, failing when you intertwined your fingers around his, pinning them by his head against the mattress.

“Prove to me your sorry,” You growled from above him. “Cum really fucking hard. I want to paint your cum deep within me.”

Your mouth attacks his neck, hands still pinned down so he’s force to lay there and take it. Your clit rubs deliciously against his belly and you can feel yourself really fucking close. You feel his heavy balls tighten against your ass, with each powerful upward thrust into your hot cave.

“Gonna cum.” He says, mouth open and eyes glossed over.

“Yes, baby. Cum for me. I wanna feel—” He slams hard against your g-pot and your the one that comes first, squirting your liquid release and wetting everything in its path.

You clenching and unclenching around him sends him into his third orgasm for the night. It’s borderline painful. He’s in overload as he comes deep. Your hips going over his body in a staccato rhythm from the intensity.

You release his hands allowing you to hold your sweaty bodies against the other while your high continued to persist then eventually dissipated.

Your mouths are close swallowing down each other’s gasps staring at each other like you’d just experienced something so life changing. And it certainly was.

Rolling off of him, you cuddled to his side, sticky with both of your release and sweat.

“How was that?” You asked, giggling from the euphoric high.

He chuckles clearly experiencing the same effect. He tries to speak but there are no words only hand gestures accompanied his mouthing words.

“I see I’ve rendered you speechless.” You press a kiss to his cheek.

“Oh yeah.” He sighs.

You get up from the bed, heading back to the bathroom to grab a warm towel. You’d focus on cleaning yourself up later. You swipe the rag between his legs and on his cock cleaning the evidence of your activity.

You caress his head, placing a kiss as directly on the bald spot. “Don’t ever forget that you how beautiful you are. If you do, I’ll just have to show you again.”

He looks up with a smirk. “I think I forgot again.”

You laugh. He was so silly but that was one of the many reasons you loved him. “I love you, Murray.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

Murray couldn’t have asked for a better woman in his life to give himself so vulnerability to. You really were an angel.

#murray bauman x reader #murray bauman imagine #brett gelman x reader #brett gelman #murray bauman x reader fluff #murray bauman #murray bauman x you #murray bauman x y/n #murray bauman fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fandom #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fluff #stranger things season 4 #001 stranger things #smutty fic #vecna stranger things #rip eddie #001 x reader #eddie munson #murray bauman x reader smut #daddy issues #i want him so bad #murray bauman x reader imagine #murray bauman stranger things

[bruhlsbees]

omg i loved that nsfw alphabet!! could u maybe elaborate on the foot job, toys (him sat watching u) and jack off (into ur panties) ones??? i adore your writing!!🤭

hiii, nony!! i kinda just wrote a quick lil smut involving all three of these! hope you enjoy!! <3

here is the original post for those who haven't read it!!

warnings: smut (kissing feet, female masturbation, male masturbation, squirting, female rec. oral, fingering) minors do not interact

pairing: murray bauman x afab!reader

a/n: hiii, nony!! i kinda just wrote a quick lil smut involving all three of these! hope you enjoy!! &lt;;3 here is the original post for those who haven't read it!! didn't go heavy with the footjob stuff in this one but i def think he's into feet stuff like giving massages and having you rub him through his pants with your feet <3

tagging my favorite fellow murray whore @cuethediscoandthedrinks

he couldn't get over how easy it was for you to turn him on.

he used to love the foreplay in your relationship, love to tease you and make you shake in his arms through your overstimulated orgasm. now he was lucky if he even made it past your first orgasm without fucking himself into you.

tonight was proving to be no different with his current dilemma, watching as you lay in bed over the covers in your pink babydoll lingerie set, matching pink stockings that made your legs look so nice.

what was missing, however, was the sheer pair of panties you wore that night. instead of on you, or around your ankles, or even discarded on the floor, they were in his hand, wrapped around his swollen cock as he fucked them.

watching as murray leaned back in the chair, hips thrusting up as his right hand continued to pump his dick, the pink sheer panties loosely wrapped around him. his left hand was hanging below, cupping and gently massaging his balls.

a grunt came from him as he watched your own hips thrust, seeing as your pussy glistened with your own wetness.

"getting close there, huh princess?" murray teased.

rolling your eyes, you groaned and kicked your leg out at him, only for him to catch it quickly with his left hand and keep your foot placed on his shoulder.

laying on your back with your legs propped up, you continued to lazily run your vibrator over your swollen clit. your left hand was playing with your tits and your eyes kept locked ahead of you at murray - moaning and slowly rolling your hips into the vibrator.

"i hate when you call me that," you pouted, watching as he kissed the bottom of your foot, working his way up your leg until his teeth caught the top, smirking up at you until you nudged his head with your leg. "come on! please, murray?"

you hated asking for things, didn't want to seem so needy for him. but you could feel the mess beginning to pool out of you and you wanted his tongue to clean you up. his big wet tongue to suck at your pussy until you came all over his tongue.

but you knew, if you wanted it, you were going to have to say it.

"what do you want, y/n? come on, you still know how to talk don't you?"

whining you watched him slide off the chair, onto the ground on his knees, grabbing your other leg and pulling you to the edge of the bed, his cock standing up tall with your panties still just hardly wrapped around.

"if you tell me," murray began slowly. "i'll give you what you want."

feeling him run his hands up and down your legs, squeezing and pulling at the fatter parts, he watched your expression carefully, moving his mouth to your ankle when he saw you start to come undone.

"m-murray! i just...i want to cum... on your tongue!"

you pressed the vibrator firmer to your clit, beginning to pant as your breathing became more irregular.

as for murray, he was enjoying the little show he was getting from you, seeing you shake and squirm just to hold off on the chance that he would give you what you even wanted to begin with.

"please!" you sobbed, not sure how long you would be able to wait for him.

chuckling, murray shook his head before taking your vibrator, moving it down to his cock, leaning forward into your pussy until his mouth was around your clit, sucking and lapping at your precum while his right fingers stuffed their way into your needy little hole.

once the two of you both got what you wanted, it was only a matter of minutes before you were both falling apart. to no surprise, at least to murray, you were the one crumbling first.

sitting up, you wrapped your thighs around his head, thrusting your hips up and gently pulling his face down to eat you out harder. you were so close to cumming, your body prickled and tinged like it was on fire.

meanwhile down below, at the bottom of the bed, murray ran your vibrator up and down the base of his cock, groaning into your sopping pussy as he fucked his hips into the soft duvet on your bed.

"o-oh! murray! i think i'm gonna cu-cum!"

you let out a sob as murray's fingers fucked harder into you, curling and pounding against your g-spot until the noises that fell from your mouth became silence.

hitting your breaking point, your legs began to tremble around his head as you squirted around his fingers, murray quick to lap at everything he could lick up.

it didn't take long for him to reach his own orgasm. when your body began to still murray pulled away from you, moving to stand up and push you back up on the bed, enough for him to settle himself between your legs and fucking himself into your sticky pussy.

you were so sensitive that when the feeling of him filling you up settled into your stomach, you let out a strained groan and gripped onto the duvet - twisting and pulling as your heels dug into his back.

grunting out with each thrust, murray began to pant as his hips started to slow down, his pace becoming staggered as his cock twitched inside of you, unable to take the feeling of your warm wet pussy around his swollen and sensitive cock.

his final thrust stuttered into you, listening to you whine and your pussy twitch around him. he let out another grunt that slowly became groans as he came deep inside of you. once you both finished and he came to his senses, murray moved back a little, watching as the mixture of both of your cums slowly leaked out of you and onto the duvet covers.

"mmm god, you made such a mess," he dragged his hands down your legs before turning you onto your side a little, spanking your ass once before he pulled away from you entirely.

you felt him crawl behind you as you rolled onto your side, catching your breath while he settled behind you, his dominant hand coming around your waist to pull you to him.

"see, princess? was it so hard for you to just say what you want?" murray teased, kissing the back of your head.

rolling your eyes, you shook your head and leaned back into him, tsking and crossing your arms.

"i hate it when you call me that." you said defeated.

smiling, murray squeezed you in his arms before closing his eyes.

"i know... princess."

it was almost worth the sharp jab of your elbow to his ribs - almost.

#murray bauman #murray bauman smut #murray bauman fanfic #murray bauman fanfiction #murray bauman x reader #murray bauman x you #minors dni #dabs and danny with drey

[writingjourney]

Murray Bauman x reader/OC

Listen people, I see we're all going feral for Murray and it is absolutely necessary, because he deserves it. There's not a lot of Murray x Reader stuff on tumblr yet, but I wrote a long-ass fic for Ao3.

It's called How to Treat a Woman and it's cute and filthy :)

Also please please check out my friends' Murray x OC stories HERE and HERE.

They are both absolute must-reads if you ask for my humble opinion. Get your cute butts over there and leave them some kudos and nice comments.

I'm sure we're all excited to write more for this sexy bastard <3

#murray bauman #murray bauman x reader #murray bauman x oc #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #murray bauman fanfiction #ao3 links

[peridotlionheart]

Wow. Here's chapter three of I've Been Seeing You, my Murray Bauman/OFC fanfic. It took me forever.

#stranger things #murray bauman/ofc #murray bauman #murray bauman fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction

[sheisjoeschateau]

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART IV

************************************************************************

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: major character death (?), more plot-driven smut, strong language, anxiety-inducing themes, panic attacks, co-dependency, hot n heavy but low-key emotional s*x. MINORS, DNI. 18+

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

When you do manage to get yourself out of bed and dressed for the day, which consists of an oversized long sleeved shirt that you stole from your uncle (because you liked it) along with some leggings and long white socks, you tell yourself to take a deep breath and accept whatever fate awaits you.

You've made your bed (literally, and figuratively speaking) so now you have to... well, not lie in it...

Anyway.

You walk downstairs to smell Steve at work in the kitchen, cooking up something delicious. Eddie sees you first, on the couch.

He grins and waves. "Mornin’, princess.”  

You smile and give him a little wave. "Howdy."

Robin walks in with a first aid kit to give him fresh bandages, visibly sagging with relief when she sees you.

“Oh thank God, you’re up. These kids are already on one...”

You can’t help but snort a laugh at that, taking in her frazzled state, and you ask her what you can do to help but she just says in a desperate voice, “Coffee, please, I love you.”  You grin and nod, hearing her and Eddie fussing over his dressing as you make for a hot cup of coffee.

You can hear the kids all around the corner, chirping lively from the kitchen. Even El is in there participating. Hopper’s voice is in the mix somewhere, grunting something about “indoor voices.”  Your uncle is arguing over something with Erica, balls deep in a heated debate.

When you round the corner, your eyes first land on Nancy. She’s sitting at the bar with Jonathan. She smiles at you shyly. Jonathan greets you out loud.

“Bauman Squared is up.”

The kids all get in a tizzy of excitement. Erica’s excitement is short-lived, given her intense debate with your uncle. But Dustin is rushing over to you, blabbering about something pertaining to the lifespan of canned goods, and Mike is chiming in from the table saying, “No, Dustin, hold up, okay?  So, Bauman, this is actually how it started.”

But your uncle cuts him off, asking them why they call you that when you both share the same last name. Joyce teasingly points out that he’s Murray and you’re Bauman.

Hopper adds to that, “yeah man, get with the program. Your niece is our favorite.” He shoots you a wink, and you give him a finger gun of approval.

Your uncle is rolling his eyes, but shoots you a desperate look — “Coffee. Black. Strong. Gracias.”   Erica resumes her debate with him.

You grin as you move to go get your uncle a much needed cup of coffee, finding that Steve has stopped flipping the pancakes to look at you with a soft smile and scooting over a hot mug of coffee to you. 

But it’s not for your uncle. It’s for you.

“Two sugar, light cream, right?”   

The way that Steve murmurs the question to you makes you weak in the knees. You settle for giving him a tight-lipped grin and nod.

“Yeah, thank you,” you murmur back.

Steve moves to grab another mug, moving to pour another cup of straight black coffee for your uncle. You can’t help but notice the curve of his biceps as he does, secretly admiring his face while the coffee pours from the pot. The way his white t-shirt fits him just right, his gray sweatpants sitting at the jusssst right point of his hips.

You swallow. Fuck.

You get a hold of yourself before he’s handing it over to you. He winks. “It’s strong. I promise.”

You smirk back at him, raising the glass in thanks before walking it over to your uncle.

You don’t notice the way that Steve tries to hide the overwhelming thoughts in his brain, signaling his evolving feelings for you.

And you also don’t notice now Nancy catches it, or how it uncomfortably makes her heart seize...

But you do notice your uncle staring at you with those damn all-knowing-eyes, while Erica incessantly jabbers on about whatever the hell they’re debating. You and Murray exchange the quietest but most intense glares.

And Hopper's got half a donut hanging out of his mouth as he happens to catch the tail end of this. He wants to ask, but decides it’s best to hold off on that.

***

The day goes well. The house is always staying busy, so it keeps you all that way. Hopper is calling for a family meeting in the living room, which gets everyone in a tizzy.

The boys will always, at some point, try to take over. It takes both Joyce and Hopper to set them straight.

Your uncle makes sure to throw in his usual statement: “peanut gallery hours will follow the meeting, thank you.” 

This meeting is no exception, and it goes exactly like that.

Will makes great points, as always — and he is allowed to, along with El, given their ties to the supernatural.

Jonathan and Nancy always listen the best. One of them takes notes.

Normally, you sit next to your uncle or Eddie while Steve always takes a seat next to Robin. 

But this time, as you sit next to Murray at the end of the couch listening to Hopper try to push through his conference lecture while Dustin interjects like crazy, your heart flutters as Steve moves from the staircase over to sit on the arm of the couch -- next to you.

You sit still, not letting yourself react or look up at him. But you also forget to breathe. Thankfully, he’s too busy telling Dustin to can it so he doesn’t notice.

Robin is slowly shifting back in her seated position in the large loveseat, having been prepared to make room for Steve. She’s too grateful to have it to herself to feel suspicious yet.

Eddie, however, clocks it. What “it” is, necessarily? He doesn’t know.  Like honestly, he’s not even in the ballpark.  But still, he notices so yay gold star.

Nancy does know what “it” is, though, when she catches it.  Or at least she has an inkling.  She’s not the note taker today, so she’s able to catch it. She wonders to herself if maybe she is just overthinking it, given her conflicted feelings for Steve while still with Jonathan.

Steve is actively participating in the conversation with the adults, and you chime in as well. Once you’ve gotten a grip on yourself.

Something is being said about needing to go on a supply run, but also how they need to get over to the main field and see what is happening at the lab — which is now squared off with all electric fencing. The kids are LOUD, demanding it be them. Hopper shuts that down real fast.

“So help me Goddddd, listentome.” — Hopper

“Kids, shh, calm down…” — Joyce

“FETUSES, SILENCIO.”  — Murray

The kids relent with rolled eyes and groans of displeasure. Hopper rubs his temples, resetting.  Then speaking —

“I will be assigning roles. You will hear them, and you will accept them.  Deal?”

Everyone nods, agreeing. Even the kids. Great, you think, so they’ve learned to know better than push their luck that far…

Hopper is assigning 4 separate groups to 4 separate tasks. 

In one group: Robin, Nancy, Will and Joyce. They will be making the supply run.

In the 2nd group: Dustin, Erica and Murray will be staying here to run the command center. Murray’s the boss. He grins, but also wants to jump off a cliff for the fact he has been assigned the responsibility of managing the two loudest kids in the group. Lucas will also stay with Max, while on lookout at base.

In the 3rd group: Hopper, El, Mike and Argyle as the driver. They’ll be assessing the damage done, pertaining to the gate re-opening. They’re on Vecna patrol.

In the 4th group: Jonathan, Steve, you and Eddie. You’ll all be venturing over the fence to spy on the lab and get a look at what is happening over there, while reporting back to Group 2.

This sends Dustin to a fit of determination, as he insists that he joins your group so that he can help with the walkie-talkie communication since Lucas and Erica can man the fort. (Murray definitely takes offense to that.)

Hopper huffs but doesn’t disagree with the suggestion. “Don’t let this give you any sort of false pretenses, kid. This is the one suggestion you’ve made that is sensible.”

Dustin just grins like a dopey idiot. Then he looks at Steve. “Yay!”

Steve rolls his eyes but honestly, he’s cool with having his buddy.

The plan is to go into effect early tomorrow morning. Meaning, everyone needs to get some good ass sleep and tuck in early.

You’re in your room now, having just showered and put on your pajamas with freshly brushed teeth. You’re putting together your combat outfit for tomorrow when there’s a knock at your door.

You expect it to be your uncle, since earlier he was going over strategies with you for an obscenely long time — which is his very awkward way of indirectly saying, “hey, you’re my niece and I love you and I’m worried about you because that’s what family does.” So you figure he’s drawn up another 10 plans to run by you, and you're happy to humor him on them.

But it’s Steve on the other side, looking shy and like he might’ve had to talk himself into doing this in fear of how you might react.

You give him a surprised but pleasant smile. He stands there, returning it timidly. There is a silence that falls over both of you. Then finally —

“Can I sleep in here tonight?”

You have to literally restrain yourself from jumping at that question with a way-too-eager oh thank god, yes. Instead, you just give him a polite grin.

“Yeah, of course,” you say.

Steve lets himself in, and he looks over to see your outfit set aside for tomorrow. He nods at it as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Tryna look badass?”

You smirk. “I am a badass. I’m a Bauman.”

You expect Steve to scoff. To roll his eyes. Make some snide remark. But he doesn’t. He just looks at you, with that same look on his face that he had this morning while you two laid in bed together. You can’t break away your gaze for a moment, almost hypnotized.

God, he is so beautiful. Why the fuck is he so beautiful?

Finally, you break the stare down by moving to get your combat boots out from the closet and place them beside the clothes.

And that’s when you feel it. His fingers brushing the edge of your t-shirt, hooking onto it so that you turn around. You do, letting him turn you to face him. He’s looking at you intently, and slowly he pulls you towards him to cage you between his spread legs as he sits on the edge of the bed. It’s half shy, half confident. Gentle but assertive. You stare down into his doe eyes, and you hold your breath when his fingers splay across your hips as they grip onto you. You’re so close to him now, too close yet somehow not close enough. You can’t breathe.

After soaking you in, Steve reaches one arm up to pull your neck down to his face so that he can brush the tip of his nose against yours, just like you did last night. Ever so slowly, be nuzzles. Eskimo kiss.

And then his lips are finding their way to be against yours.

Steve kisses you softly, taking his time and just breathing you in. Then he sighs into your mouth as he stands so that he can lift you up, making you swing your legs to wrap around his waist and hold yourself to him there. He turns you both around, effortlessly walking you over to sit on top of the chest of drawers. Damn, he's strong. Steve places you there, lips still on yours, before he finally pulls back.  His hands glide down to the bottom of your shirt. Please, his eyes ask. But this time, he wrenches your shirt off of you with more vigor than last night. It’s urgent, and it’s still urgent when his lips crash back into yours before wrenching himself back again so that you can tug his shirt over his own head. He grunts impatiently, wanting to not be apart from you yet needing to be skin to skin. He paws and grabs at you, needy and greedy, but something about it feels a whole lot more like love than lust.

Steve tastes like summer. Sunscreen, popsicles and June. He smells like pool water and boyfriend. And he looks like a dream. 

You wonder how in the world he would have felt if he’d been told during his King Steve era that one day, he’d be having sex with that one student who graduated a year early and didn’t belong to any niche crowd or group or clique. You wonder if he would scoff at that, wave it off. Say, nah, that girl? Never.

But the way that Steve keens into your neck right now, murmuring sinful names for you like angel and baby, makes you wonder if King Steve wouldn’t be able to understand that the new and improved Steve Harrington might just happen to be into things he never was into before. Maybe he’d gotten close with Nancy. Maybe you were a rebound. But he didn’t kiss you like that. Or treat you like that after your first time, for that matter...

And the second time was just as euphoric as the first time, just different. Steve was more in control, clinging to you and unafraid to go for it.

Before you know it, you’re up against the wall with your bare chest against it and your legs spread widely and his mouth on your ear. Tugging at your earlobe with his teeth and his shaky breathing, infused with his pleasured grunting humming inside of your eardrums. You pant and bite back the screams that you so fucking badly want to release. but you don't, not wanting to wake the entire household or get the attention anyone awake.  However, you made sure that he knew you were in pure fucking bliss with the way you arched your back into him and dripped all over his girth.

“Been wanting to be here inside you all day,” he rasped, thrusting against you. “Didn’t wanna leave this room.” His words break up as he pounds himself deeper into your guts. “Needed to — to — n-n-need you —”

You throw your head back against him, climaxing at his words for the second time in a row tonight. His arm linked around your waist tightens, gripping you like a lifeline, and he chokes into your ears — which only sends you into an orgasm unlike anything you’ve ever felt in your life. And Steve shares the exact same experience as you do when he ejaculates inside of you.

You both pant and gasp for air, your heart rates racing at lightning speed and trying to level out. You’re both slick with sweat and sex, and as Steve rests his head against your shoulder it sends chills up your arms when his hair flops and tickles your bare skin.

Steve pulls out of you, and you shiver as you feel him leave your body, inch by inch. The loss of him is overwhelming, and your legs shake. But before you can even move to catch yourself, Steve is already turning you to him with a steady grasp on you.

The way that Steve strokes your hair, moving it out of your face as he stares into your eyes again, is priceless. You can’t help it…

“You’re beautiful, Steve Harrington.” You breathe it against his face, still catching your breath. The corners of your lips twitch, almost like you want to laugh or smile. “I can’t stand you.”

Steve looks at you like you’re all that matters in this world. The pads of his thumbs stroke the skin under your eyes, softly, gingerly. He moves to press his lips to the corner of your mouth, breathing against it, “I can’t stand you either.”

Feather-like kisses are pressed to the corner of your mouth and cheek, and you revel in the glory of it, pressing your skull into the wall with your eyes fluttering shut.

Steve falls asleep first that night, with you tucked underneath his chin and with his arms holding you protectively. You let the sound of his steady breathing lull you to sleep.

***

The next morning comes sooner than you’d like.

You feel someone squeeze you tightly to them, pressing their lips to the crown of your hair before they roll out of bed. You watch as Steve’s back muscles flex while he tugs his sweatpants back over his boxers, then throws his shirt back on and heads to your little en-suite bathroom for a few minutes. You force yourself to sit up, knowing that it’s time and you’ll need to get ready.

Hopper would be so mad if he knew about the 5 hours of sleep you got, versus the 8.

You’re pulling out a pair of socks to go with your boots when Steve emerges from the bathroom, and before you can stand up and move to switch places — he’s cupping your cheeks to kiss your forehead in two lingering pecks. You smile under his touch.

You give him the shyest of looks before going to brush your teeth, re-shower and get changed.

Steve quietly murmurs to you the promise of coffee as he leaves. And he is all you think about in the shower.

You get changed into your army pants, combat boots, and fitted t-shirt. You grab yourself a windbreaker and throw your go-bag over your shoulder, ready to face the day.

Dustin is securing the command center with Murray and Erica, while Mike comes over to you carrying snacks.

“Here, I set extra aside so that you have plenty.”  Mike always treated you more like a sister than Nancy, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by her. You ruffle his hair and give him a quick squeeze, grateful.

Lucas and Will are asking you questions about the trip, along with Mike, and you assure your kiddos that you’ll all be fine.

Hopper comes over to you with Murray, entrusting you with one of their guns. “You’re the group's team lead today, along with Steve.”

Steve’s got his nail bat, along with a pistol.

Murray is going over the inner workings of the lab’s field layout with you and your group.

“The break switch is in this building,' he's saying. "But thanks to Erica and Dustin, we’ve got a way of hacking into it at exactly this time. You’ll have this much time to mount the electric fence and get to the other side. Seize. Those. Minutes. Haul ass. Get to the other side.  No asking why the chicken crossed the road. Capiché?”

The way that Jonathan, Eddie and Steve repeat the word back to him makes you visibly bite back a laugh.

Joyce is giving everyone the nurturing mama bear talk, hugging everyone too many times — especially Jonathan. She has Will in her group, so she’ll be a little more sane in the head thankfully.

Nancy and Jonathan are giving each other an affectionate goodbye that Steve doesn’t even notice. Nancy wonders if he does. Silently, and selfishly, she hopes he does. But he doesn’t.

Robin is rambling about something having to do with a jump-ship plan in case the jump-ship plan doesn’t work, and if they need to establish not only a 2nd abort —

“— but maybe even a 3rd abort? and wait is there really enough backpacks that they’re taking to fit all the supplies and can goods that they — ”

“Oh my god, Robin, please breathe,” Steve cuts her off.

“Wait, what’s the jump ship plan?” Argyle’s question makes everyone whip their head in his direction with incredulous looks on their faces.

Hopper looks ready to slug someone but also like a nervous dad. After he goes back over the plan for everyone, giving the bullet points, he tells you all to eat your breakfasts and be by the front door within 30 minutes or else.

Lucas takes his plate up to sit with Max. El comes over to talk with you about the day, saying that she’ll send a signal if she sees anything dangerous headed your way at the lab. She gives you a tight hug, which tugs at Hopper’s heart. He and Murray share a very rare, quiet moment with an exchange in their eyes. Our girls.

Steve is telling the boys and Erica to follow him upstairs to Max’s room to join Lucas for a motherly pep talk, and they all follow him like chicks following a mother hen.

Eddie is being given strict instructions by Robin to follow orders and not rip his stitches that she’s worked hard at keeping in tact by mounting the wall --

...“and be on the damn lookout only so help me god or else I’ll rip them back open myself,” she threatens him.

Eddie visibly swallows and nods at that, believing her.

Suddenly Nancy is walking up to you, as you stand there still hugging El while looking over Murray’s shoulder at his computer system setup. She looks nervous as you turn to her.

“Hey, umm, keep an eye on them, will you?” she asks shyly, sheepishly. “I worry about them. Especially Dustin.”

You know she meant Steve. “Yeah. Of course.”

Nancy nods awkwardly, grateful you didn’t correct her and a little embarrassed. She points to the gun on your back, giving you a tight-lipped grin. “Glad it’s you handling that bad boy.”

She flashes the same one across her back. You chuckle lightly, agreeing with her. “Yeah, the last thing we need is for Eddie to get his hands on this or else he’ll murder the whole town.”

Nancy giggles.

Eddie snickers at the joke, appreciating your dark humor. He gives you a wry smile. “Thanks princess, but I only prefer bone crushing, eye sucking curses.”

You all eat some whole wheat eggos (even El) and some scrambled eggs. Plenty of water, plus some coffee.

Steve walks in to scoop up his plate during the last 10 minutes, and Hopper takes pity on him — given that he’s been with the kids.

“You get an extra 5,” Hopper tells him.

“Appreciate it, Hop.” 

Steve carries his plate over to the table, moving to sit by you and Murray — who does his best to just stare down at his coffee and ignore catching this in his peripheral vision. Sip, slurp.

It’s a quiet breakfast. Tense. Stiff. Everyone is nervous. This stuff never does get easier…

***

The kids all boom back down the stairs, loud as ever.

And everyone is out the door on time, minus the extra 5 minutes that Hopper secretly gave for Steve’s benefit. Thankfully, it goes unremarked but the kids.

You all put their hands in a circle because Dustin insisted a while back that you cannot all part ways without a group huddle. So it’s now become tradition. Everyone fist bumps in unison, and the four groups embark on their separate journeys.

Group 1 does well, making it into town. They have the bottom tier level of risk, which Hopper did intentionally for Joyce and Will's sakes because those are his hearts. He also adores the two girls, Nancy and Robin, of course. They carefully fill up Joyce’s car in doses, trying not to attract attention as everyone has a strict evacuation mandate that goes into place next week along with a food supply limit. They’re ahead of the game, doing everything not to give away what Dr. Owens warned them about.

Group 2 is in full swing, back at Casa Harrington. Erica and Murray bicker like a married couple, but they also high five. Lucas makes sure that Max is safely tucked in, giving her a kiss on the forehead and a promise to be back upstairs in a few hours.

Group 3 is cautious. They have to calculate every single move, given the risks. El uses her senses to tap in, blindfold on and static on the van's radio ringing throughout the car. Mike keeps watch, along with Argyle at the wheel — and Hopper navigates.

Group 4, your group, is en route. You have the longest journey to make on foot, making sure to keep their strength. Jonathan keeps watch of time, and Dustin hangs into the walkie-talkie to keep contact. You scan the area, and so does Steve, as you all walk. Eddie sings to himself to keep from wigging out, and it’s definitely giving mumbled panic.

You are telling everyone the ETA, using the compass. Steve tells the gang to keep the same pace so that they make sure they aren’t there too soon or too late, wanting to time it right with Group 2’s orders.

At some point, you gesture for everyone to pivot directions, and when Steve steps in your direction — he instinctively reaches out to brush the small of your back. It’s so subtle… yet so telling.

Eddie cocks an eyebrow mid-song, ceasing the mumbling altogether for about 2 solid seconds, before resuming as he walks. Even Jonathan raises an eyebrow, silently smirking.

Dustin misses it entirely.

Then Dustin starts communicating back and forth on the walkie-talkie with Erica, and as they start to bicker Steve interjects.

“Hey, dingus, cool it and listen to what she’s saying, please.”

Dustin huffs, whining, “but she’s wronnnng...” 

You squint in the sunlight as you look back at him, saying simply, “Listen to your mother.”

Steve doesn’t even flinch. You both just look back at your son expectantly. Dustin sighs but obeys.

Oh that definitely makes Eddie and Jonathan share a look.

Back at base, Murray is struggling to access the switch for the electric fence closest to where Group 4 (you guys) is approaching. He and Erica work hard at it, and Lucas helps as he keeps open the line of communication with Dustin via the walkie-talkie.

“This east side gate is a bitch,” Murray is griping over the channel.  “Hang tight, just pause when you guys make it there.”

Dustin and Lucas are going back and forth, while Jonathan tries to keep up with what they are all saying. 

You can see the fence up ahead, and so does Steve. 

Eddie’s singing gets louder.

Nancy speaks over the walkie-talkie channel: “Group 1, reporting.  Over.” 

Dustin speaks.  “Group 4, tuned in.  Over.” 

The other groups tune in, too.  Nancy continues in a hushed voice.  “Food supply is running low so we’re going to double up.  The mandate will be really strict.  Can’t take chances.  Over.” 

Jonathan tells her to keep them posted with the ETA.

El comes onto the walkie-talkie, asking for you. 

You take it, speaking: “Bauman squared, I copy.  Over.” 

Eleven tells you that she can see you all headed there to the lab, and that no one is nearby.  You’re safe. 

Hopper adds: “But Eddie, make sure that you stay tuned into this channel and relay it to Dustin just in case.  Over.”

Eddie’s song of woe dies on his lips with an anxious exhale.  “Roger that, over.”

Steve speaks up, “Alright guys, we’re here.” 

Dustin signals Murray, right on cue.  You all stare up at the looming electric fence in front of you.  It’s tall.  At least 30 feet up.  You gulp.  So does Jonathan.  For Steve, it’s easy.  For Dustin, well, it’s exciting.

Jonathan adds to the relayed info, addressing Murray, saying, “Yeah, uhhh, it’s pretty high up man?” 

Murray’s tone comes through, crisp.  “How high is high?” 

Jonathan visibly shrinks back as he squints in the sunlight. “Like...25-30 feet?”

Murray curses on the other side, frustrated.  “Alright, hold please.”

Steve turns over to face you all, starting with you.  “It’s gonna be a helluva climb.”

You nod.  “We’ll have to double up the speed, guys.  But for safety, let’s just do two at a time.”

Jonathan’s brow furrows.  “Why?”

You tell them it’s safest this way.  This way, two people can gauge the timing of it just in case.  Dustin immediately demands to go in the first group, which Steve shuts down promptly — like all good mothers would with their favorite child.  He starts to onboard Jonathan, but you’re already saying you’ll go as you tighten up your bag.  Steve looks at you, hesitant. 

You look back at him, giving him a nod.  “No arguments.”

Steve sighs through his nose.  “Yeah, I figured as much.” 

He’s so sexy when he isn't actually hating you, and instead just consistently miffed with you…

“Group 4, listen up,” Murray’s voice comes over the walkie-talkie.  “I’m signaling the switch now.  On my mark, it will take exactly 3 minutes for it to activate.  You’ll have 60 seconds to climb it.  Up and down.  That’s it.  Remember what I said: haul ass.”

Dustin responded back with a sigh, “Steve and Bauman Squared insist on going two at a time so…”  He dreads the next question, cringing before asking.  “Any chance you guys can…do it…twice?”

You turn around, waiting to hear your uncle’s reply and wondering if you’ll need to step in.  His befuddled response confirms, yes you will, and you walk over to take the walkie.

“Uncle Murray, it’s not very sturdy.  It’s too big a risk, four at a time.  If you can’t do it, then just me and Steve will go.  What can we do?  Over.” 

You speak matter-of-factly, which Steve appreciates.  He stands with his hands on his hips and tongue between his teeth, all hot and mom-like.  Even though for you...he’s giving daddy.

Eddie has been pacing a trough into the grass.  Please let me have company, he thinks.

Jonathan’s just quiet, wondering if now is a good time to tell everyone that he’s actually afraid of heights. 

Dustin just wants to fucking climb already.

“Workin’ on it.  Standby.”  Your uncle’s monotone voice makes you all wait. 

You stare up at the fence while you do.  Then, turning your face over in Steve’s direction, you find that he’s already gazing over at you.  That fondness in his eyes is back, and you feel your cheeks flush under the sun.  But it’s not the sun making you blush.  Steve's hands are still on his tips, and he gives you a tiny wink before turning to look back at Dustin with the walkie-talkie.  He tells his kid not to stress about it if they can’t come, which only starts a back-and-forth argument between mother and son.  But Erica’s voice cuts through it over the walkie.

“Group 4 nerds, listen up.  We found a way to do it.  Over.”

Dustin pumps his fist in glee.  Jonathan doesn’t.  Eddie realizes he’s doomed, back to being there all alone. 

Steve takes the walkie, asking, “Same timeframes, Murray?  Over?” 

Your uncle confirms it, but then Lucas is in the background saying, “Wait, are you sure this will give them 60 seconds?” 

Steve raises an eyebrow at that.  But you’re looking at the top of the fence.  The end of the other side of the line is quiet for a hot minute.  No doubt, Murray and the kids are beefing.  Re-calculating.  Beefing some more.  Getting attitudes.  Then finally —

“Erica to group 4, confirming.  Timeframes are exact.  Wait for us to signal the 2nd climb.  Standby and brace for 1st climb.  Over.”

You and Steve look at each other.  Here we go.  He fastens his backpack, reaching out a hand to you and telling you to hand over yours.  You go to protest, but he’s just insisting without budging and reaching anyway.  It isn’t until his hand starts to slide the strap down your shoulder that you huff and relent. 

“30 seconds to climb.”

“There’s a ledge up there, wide enough to stand on.”  You nod up at it as you tell Steve.  “If we run low on time, we hang there until the 2nd climb.” 

Steve nods at you, agreeing.  He turns and relays that to a very anxious Jonathan and a very antsy Dustin.  You gesture over to Dustin, telling him to toss you his backpack.  Steve goes to argue but you hold up a hand. 

“Better me than him," you say quickly. It’s a parental thing that he would insist on too, so he lets you win that one. 

Dustin obeys after seeing mom agree with…um…dad? Are you dad?

“10 seconds to climb.”

Steve talks fast, in position to pounce.  “Eddie, on go, toss that branch to hit the fence.  Double check for sparks.”  Eddie nods, picking up the large branch nearby.  You get in position with Steve.

“5…4…3…2…1…climb!”

Eddie tosses the branch.  No electric shock.  All systems go.

You and Steve hop as high as you can, climbing up like champs.  You both hustle, swiftly making the climb like pro climbers.  Steve is faster, planning to reach down and lift you the rest of the way if he gets to the top first.  But you’re almost right at the same level with him, almost at the top.

…until your bag catches.

The strap of Dustin’s bag pulls you back down.  Air catches in your throat, no scream escaping your mouth as it swings you around, unhooks and makes you fall back some feet.  But you latch back onto the wall, back down to midway.  Fuck. 

Dustin gasps, Jonathan shouts your name.  Eddie starts his shit-shit-shit chant. 

You look down, realizing that it’s way too far of a drop to just fall back down and start over.  You are literally back to the mid-way point. 

You make up your mind within a few seconds: keep going.

Steve is hoisting himself up onto the thick ledge as this is happening, and when he turns to see you lower his heart stops. 

“Bauman, what happened??"

But you keep climbing, shouting, “Steve, just keep going.” 

But Steve is not having that.  He’ll fucking wait.  Hell, he’ll wait for Dustin too.  He’s staying put.  He shakes his head, clapping his hands and reaching for you even though you still have another fourth of the wall to mount before you reach him.

“30 more seconds.”  Oh thank God, that’s plenty.

”You got this, Bauman, c’mon...” Steve’s ready to hold you again.  Anxious.  So fucking anxious.

Dustin is cheering too, along with Eddie and Jonathan.  You’re fine.  Almost there.

You look at Steve at the top, leaning over the side looking down at you. You can see the anxious anticipation in his brown eyed gaze.

“20 more seconds.  Group 2, don’t forget to wait for our signal.”

But right as Murray stops talking — the wall buzzes. 

Everything happens in slow motion.  One second feels like a whole minute for all 5 of you in your group.  Your ears perk up at the sound.  That wasn’t an insect.  That’s mechanic.  That’s —

“Was that —”  Eddie barely started to ask the question you were all wondering.

“Fuck, Bauman — !!! ”  Jonathan’s voice is panicked with realization.

Steve’s brow furrowed, alarm and horror sweeping across his entire face.

You feel a scorch so hot, fire itself couldn’t have burned as badly as the electric shock that shot through your entire body did. 

In that single second, you felt your brain short circuit.

You felt your hands get shoved away from the wall, throwing you off with blinding force.

You felt your throat snap, and you felt your heart rumble inside of your chest...

And then you felt it stop.

*****************************

:( im sorry, Steve.

author notes: I am sure that the fence thing might be weird and not accurate, but it helped my vision for how this chapter goes down. so I hope you all will be kind and not find it too "unrealistic." had to watch some stuff like the OG Jurassic Park, and get ideas for it.

tag list: @erastourvip @get0ut0fmyr00m @xprloki @eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00 @poppet05 @wiltedflowersundertowers

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington stranger things #dustin henderson #stranger things fanfiction #murray bauman #enemies to lovers

[officerrrfriendly]

The Taken, First Strike.

stranger things conjuring!AU, priest!steve harrington x demonologist/clairvoyant!fem reader.

With an abundance of reluctance, your feet found themselves taking brave steps one after another as they eventually met a birch-wood doorway. But it wasn't any ordinary doorway, inside sat her. The frail and misfortunate Maxine Mayfield, who you still referred to as such- out of a habit of profession- much despite her insistence on "just calling her max, she doesn't go by Maxine anymore."

And in that moment, all of your previous doubts from earlier flooded back into your brain, before you could give into them and turn back, she spoke out. She called your name, a glint of hope present in her tone with some desperation, too.

You sigh heavily to try and alleviate all the weight you suddenly feel pressing against your chest before you eventually reply.

"Hi, Maxine," you mutter, smiling softly before slowly approaching the vacant armchair beside her, full of funky patterns and colours. She sat timidly, her hands held onto one another whilst fingers from each hand wandered over freckles on the backs of her hands she had forgotten she had. Her hair was shorter now, bobbed and fell just below her ears but she was still so beautiful. You tried your hardest to avoid looking into the milky white orb of her left eye and the thick bandage that covered the gaping wound on her right.

If you thought about that night for any longer, you thought you would just about lose your mind- so you shook your head of protruding thoughts and focussed on the topic of importance here, which was the girl beside you.

She laughs, and this time it wasn't humourless or dry but it was real, amusing. "How many times have I told you to just call me Max, hm?" she pokes, she sits further up in her seat as you laugh along with her.

"If I had to guess...I'd say only about 100 million times," you say, with a sigh. Your answer makes her smile for a moment but then she sighs, something is clearly bothering her.

Unexpectedly, without needing encouragement to open up, she speaks. "No one's visited in a while, Lucas...he finds it hard coming here, seeing me like this. He's never said it- but..." she huffs, lowering her head down to the floor. "I know that every time he's here with me he's just stuck in that night, what happened to Billy...me. Even though I can't see him, I can sense it, he's terrified to be around me and I hate it. I hate it because I love him so much...do you have somebody like that?" As the forbidden question leaves her tongue it triggers thoughts you had wished to never think about again, you think of him- and how neither of you haven't seen or spoken to each other since that very night.

Your head shakes, wishing to be done with the thought of Father Steve, and how you've treated him since after the night of July 4th 1983...at the exorcism of Billy Hargrove.

"I'd rather not answer that question... Honey, tell me more about what's been going on with Lucas!"

.•.•.•

You wipe desperately at your tears as they fall on your way to your ocean-blue Austin Maestro car. Your fingers struggle to keep up with the vast amount that began to flood out of your tear ducts.

You harboured a considerably brave face - despite Max not being able to notice it- throughout the entire hour after Max had asked you that god-forsaken question to which you had no answer.

She had talked about Billy, her nightmares, PTSD, her love life and even her mom running off to the other side of the world with her new young boyfriend and a bottle of Jack...she lived a sad life, one you had hoped to someday be able to save her from. You wanted her to come and live in your miniature, yet cosy townhouse you had inherited from your late father Richie, god bless his soul.

Seeing her so frail and lonely, woke a sadness inside you that hadn't long gone away, however that sadness also carried a fuckton of guilt. The guilt of knowing that if you had actually, fully prepared for what you were getting into, perhaps you could have saved Billy Hargrove, Max's eyesight (and her sanity), along with her family.

CLONK, you pull on the door handle to the driver's side door and hop inside before taking one last pitiful glance at the hospice. "I'll be back for you...Max," you mutter.

You turn the rusty key into the ignition. The engine fires to life.

.•.•.•

Days had passed and now you were sitting, pondering in your office inside your humble abode. Max hadn't left your mind since your previous visit and you were thinking through the idea that has floated into your noggin and is actively refusing to leave.

A THUD snaps you out of your daydreams and you quickly glance up from your oak-stained desk to see the culprit who dropped four thick textbooks in front of you, stacked on top of one another. You groan when you realise that it's just Robin, the nosy librarian-now-assistant with a child-like grin on her face. 'Oh, she's up to something' you thought, rolling your eyes before asking- "What is it now, Roberto?" you ask, intrigued as you sit up in your seat.

"I think I may have a case for you, Psychic Sally." she grins smugly, pulling a picture of a young boy out of her pocket.

Now that caught your attention.

"Tell me everything."

And she does, she tells you about how a 'Joyce Byers' had called several times today whilst you were out buying groceries begging to speak with you, for your help and assistance as she believes something is gravely wrong with her 11-year-old boy Will and has been ever since they moved into their house two weeks ago with her fiance, Bob.

She claimed a fever, a change in behaviour, sickness and bruising randomly appearing all over his body seemingly coming from nowhere. OH! And not to mention whatever 'entity' is wreaking havoc among them is causing a putrid, rotten smell to linger throughout the entire house...and her dog suddenly died the first night living there after it refused to enter the home.

You were going to visit the Byers' residence...but not alone.

You had somebody to visit.

"Call Father Steve and tell him I need to speak with him immediately, please Robin," you demand, sighing nervously. as your right foot begins to shake uncontrollably under the table.

"Are you sure that's a...I...uhhh-yes! yes, I will go and do that for you right now, if that's...are you sure that's what you want to do because you know I can totally-" she rambles, her voice high-pitched and unsure.

You can't find words so you nod repeatedly, sporting a polite smile and motion at the door. She nervously laughs, gulping "Ha ha ha ha, well! I am just gonna - yep! Haha! Going," she begins to back out of the room pointing to the door, "going..." she reaches the handle before forcibly chuckling, "and gone!" she shuts the door and you can hear her scold "What the hell is wrong with you?...freak!! god...how do I still have this job?"

.•.•.•

"God...how do I still have this job?" Robin questions, huffing embarrassedly. She treks down the terracotta-painted hallway, full of plants and pictures of who Robin had learned to have been your late father. She had found that out accidentally on the first day of moving in with you when she asked, "Is that your husband?" which sparked a very awkward, tense conversation that you both had very quickly laughed off.

She had reached the coffee-coloured door with the cream handle and twisted it, opening the door to her room- filled with posters of Molly Ringwald, Phoebe Cates, Lisa Bonet, Madonna you name it and she had it!!

Full of purpose she sits on her side of the bed, cross-legged and grabs the telephone from her bedside table and dials Father Steve's number carefully before knawing on her lip and impending an answer.

The phone rings a good three times before there's an answer.

"Hello?"

A/N - Hi babies!! how was that?! I know it wasn't the longest but its just to give the story a good push before we really dive into the plot and have some fun. Poor Max :(( SHE DESERVES BETTER!! and poor Chester, such a sweet dog.

LMK how you found this chapter!!

current taglist: @stveharringtn

comment to be added loves :))

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #stranger things #dustin henderson #eddie munson #joe keery #joe keery fic #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #karen wheeler #murray bauman #ronance #eddie munson x reader #the conjuring #joyce byers #jim hopper #bob newby #barbara holland #will byers #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #byler #lumax #billy hargrove #max mayfield #erica sinclair #priest!steve harrington x reader #steve harrington au #steve harrington fanfic

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Warning: Murray stupidly pushes Steve into outing himself. There is a happy ending. Shoutout to the person who recently posted about this and gave me the idea.

Steve looked around at the party, a warm smile on his face. Joyce was sitting in Hopper's lap as they talked to Claudia and Sue. Judging by the looks on Sue and Claudia's faces, they were boasting about him again. He doesn't understand why they felt the need to brag so much or why they made sure he heard it as often as he could stand it. They were celebrating the fact that the fourth of July was over and that there wouldn't be any more fireworks to retraumatize them. They were also celebrating the fact that they were all alive and well, the gates closed hopefully forever. Steve was sitting off by himself after having chased the kids around the Hoppers' new and spacious backyard with Eddie. Steve was tired, but Eddie somehow managed to keep going and now had Mike in a headlock.

"Finish him!" Erica hollered, causing Hopper and Jonathan to snort into their cups.

Steve laughed. That's when Murray plopped down in the empty chair next to him.

"I'm not sure if I like that kid or if I'm afraid of her," Murray said.

"I'm pretty sure she could have taken down Vecna just by talking to him," Steve said.

"I do not doubt it," Murray cackled.

Mike finally surrendered to Eddie, and he let go of him, cheering loudly. Steve smiled at him, his heart fluttering. Eddie winked at him, and his cheeks flushed red. Nancy cheered and clapped. Mike flipped her off, and Jonathan threw his empty cup at Mike's forehead, and when Mike yelled, Jonathan claimed he was aiming for the trashcan.

"Those two kids still together?" Murray asked.

"Mike and Jonathan never dated. At least, I hope not," Steve said, his brow furrowing.

"No! Nancy and Jonathan!" Murray scowled.

"Oh, yeah, no. They're friends, Nancy wanted to focus on school," Steve said.

"Sounds about right considering I was the one who pushed them together," Murray said.

"You were?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, she was dating this complete dud she clearly had no feelings for," Murray said. "I was all, 'we like Steve, but we don't love Steve'. Hey, you know, you have the same name as him."

"Yeah, it's funny how that works. Poor Steve, right?" He said. "They never love him. I'm the very same Steve, dumbass."

"Don't you like guys?" Murray asked.

"What the fuck?" Steve said, staring at him wide eyes, his cheeks flushed. "No, I don't!"

"I'm not gonna judge you, Harrington," Murray said, rolling his eyes. "I'm gay too. Safe space for you and your boyfriend over there."

"What business of it of yours?" Steve snapped. "And Eddie's not my boyfriend."

"Oh, do you guys need a little push too?" Murray scoffed.

"You do know bisexuals exist, right?" He asked, gripping his cup.

"Yeah, and are you?" Murray asked, amused at how mad Steve was getting.

"It's not any of your goddamn business!" He snarled at him.

"Are you still hung up on Nancy?" Murray continued to push.

"No!" Steve rolled his eyes, wanting this conversation to be over.

He stared ahead, not looking at him. Everyone was still conversing and horsing around while Steve was stuck, having the most awkward conversation of his life. Murray's words from earlier rolling around in his head.

"So, you don't have feelings for him?" He asked.

"I do, okay!" He exclaimed.

"Then what's the problem?" Murray asked.

"We don't love Steve, remember?" Steve growled at him, tear prickling at the corners of his eyes, and suddenly, he was back at Tina's party.

He stood up suddenly, knocking his chair back harshly, causing everyone to look at him.

"Steve, honey, are you okay?" Joyce asked.

"Oh, he's just being a little sensitive, Joyce," Murray replied.

Sensitive. The same word that Steve’s father used to call him when he didn't want to say the word. He always knew about Steve and the fact that he was too sensitive. Steve whirled around, and before he knew what he was doing, his fist was colliding with Murray's face and knocking him out of his chair. There were several gasps, and Murray cackled.

"There's no need to be ashamed of yourself, Steve," he said.

"I have never been ashamed that I also like men, and I am not ashamed that I like Eddie!" Steve yelled at him.

Suddenly, he realized that he just outed himself in front of everyone. Steve felt very overwhelmed. Well, Robin and Dustin already knew. Steve quickly apologized and ran around to the front to head towards his car. He pulled out his keys, but his hands were shaking so badly that he kept dropping them. He got to his driver's side door when he dropped them again. He squatted down to pick them up when he saw someone else's hand reach down to do the same. He looked up to find Eddie squatting next to him.

"Oh, sweetheart," Eddie said softly. "He had no right to push you like that."

Steve hadn't realized he had been crying until Eddie cupped his face and wiped away a tear with his thumb. He could hear the distinct voice of Joyce yelling in the backyard. They stood up, and Steve collapsed into Eddie's open arms. He shoved his face into Eddie's shoulder as he sobbed.

"We like Steve, but we don't love Steve. That's what he said," Steve whispered.

"Please tell me that you don't believe that shit, man," Eddie said. "Because everyone here loves you. . . Including me. Especially me."

"You love me?" Steve said, his voice small.

"Yep, in a very not straight way. I also like men," Eddie said. "I'm not ashamed of it either."

"I want to kiss you," Steve said softly.

"Right here? I'm okay with it if you are," Eddie said.

Steve pressed his lips to Eddie's, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling the metalhead against him. His lips were soft against his own, and then Eddie pressed his lips hard against his as he deepened the kiss. Eddie wrapped his arms tightly around Steve’s shoulders as he tried to press himself further against him. Eddie broke the kiss, gently nibbling on Steve’s lip as he pulled away. Steve leaned his forehead against Eddie's, sniffling.

"I love you too, Eddie," Steve whispered.

"See, I knew you needed a push," Murray said.

Steve peered around to see him coming around the house, being dragged by Joyce and Hopper. Murray's nose was bleeding heavily. It was also clearly broken.

"Did I do that?" Steve asked.

"No. It was hard to tell who broke his nose, Sue or Claudia," Hopper said, chuckling. "But it was definitely Joyce who knocked his tooth lose."

"It's still hanging in there. Oh, and there it goes," Murray said.

"By the way, you didn't do shit!" Eddie exclaimed. "Fuck you and your tooth!"

"Yeah, I had a special evening planned tomorrow where I was going to make him dinner and then tell him, so thank you for that," Steve said. "With or without you, I would have told him."

"Wait, really?" Eddie asked with wide eyes. "Even though this jackass ruined your big reveal, can we still have dinner together tomorrow?"

"Yeah, it can be our first date," Steve said, smiling softly.

"You mean our first date wasn't our trip through the Upside Down together?" Eddie asked, and Steve laughed, shaking his head. "How about I do the cooking, big boy?"

Murray made a half assed apology before leaving. That's when Sue and Claudia came through with the kids following behind them. Sue, Claudia, and Robin started fussing over him.

"Oh, honey, are alright?" Sue asked.

"I'm much better, thanks, Sue," Steve said and pulled out of Eddie's arms to welcome her embrace.

"Oh, sweetie, we just want you to know that we love you," Claudia said.

"Yeah, we're proud of you, baby," Sue said, rubbing his shoulder.

"Yes, we love you, too, Steve," El said. "You and Eddie are cute."

"It's awesome!" Dustin exclaimed.

"Uh, why are Erica and Max whispering with their heads pressed together?" Steve asked.

"Uh, well, they said they were plotting Murray's death, but it was hard to tell if they were joking or not, and I wasn't going to ask," Lucas said.

"You guys really love me, huh?" Steve asked.

"Of course, sweetheart, you're family," Joyce said. "After everything you've done, it would be pretty shitty of us not to accept you."

"Yeah, you're our brother in arms," Lucas said.

"Our paladin," Will said with a proud grin.

"Our protector," El said.

"Our washed-up jock," Erica said with a fond smile.

"Our mother," Max said with an amused smile.

"Our kid," Sue, Claudia, Charles, Joyce, and Hopper said.

"My platonic soulmate," Robin said with a twinkle in her eye.

"My boyfriend?" Eddie asked.

"Your boyfriend," Steve said as he choked on his happy tears.

He swooped in and kissed his boyfriend in front of his entire family.

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #steve gets outed #murray bauman is a creep #he's also an asshole #the party #the hendersons and sinclairs adopt steve

[eddie-sweetheart]

Spare me! - Part 2

You and Eddie have a crush on each other, but it takes Murray Bauman to make it embarrassingly clear.

✨ Part 1 ✨

Tropes: Eddie Munson x Henderson female reader, fluff, Murray exposing your feelings, forced proximity, a very soft Eddie.

Warnings: Mention and/or depiction of fighting and wounds, kissing, teeny-tiny diversion from the show’s timeline (this one’s more about the concept than the overall S4 plot😉).

Word count: 3.8k

Author’s notes: Here's part 2, kindly (and unexpectedly!) requested by an anon 🤍 I hope it makes as much sense as part 1 did - there were many types of dynamics that I could go for, but I let the inspiration flow and did my best! Hope you like it!

🌹 Masterlist 🌹

When you open up your eyes again, it feels like you haven’t slept for more than ten minutes. 

As your eyelids flicker open and you try to make sense of the shapes and shadows in the still pitch-dark guest room at Murray’s place, you catch a glimpse of a digital clock on a shelf across from the bed, whose green blinking leds reveal to you that it’s 7 am. Which means that those ten minutes of sleep have actually been 3 hours - not that it makes any relevant difference, anyways: you still feel like a bundle of exhaustion.

You attempt to move and stir your tired limbs under the blanket, but you soon realize two things. First, that the thrill of being on the run won’t let you rest any longer, so you give up on closing your eyes again as your mind starts coming out of its drowsy daze; second, that you actually cannot move.

Something is keeping you stuck, and at first you’re still too sleepy to make sense of what it is - however, as the sudden fluttering in your heart and the butterflies in your stomach are quick to remind you, it doesn’t take much for you to find out that it’s Eddie. 

The memories of last night’s confession and kiss flood your mind, as you realize that your bodies are entangled in the same embrace that saw you fall asleep - his long legs twisted around yours, one of his arms slung over your chest with his hand placed on your waist, his warm skin against yours under the thick cotton of the sweatshirt you’re wearing. You can feel his other arm under your neck and his fingers buried deep in your hair. His face, instead, is nuzzled against your temple, his deep breaths regularly fanning over your forehead, paired with the soft sound of his light snoring.  

You lie like that for a while, staring at the ceiling and just basking in happiness at the thought that just a few hours ago one of your most secret wishes magically turned into reality. It feels surreal to be this ecstatic in such a tragic time - with the Upside Down seeping back into Hawkins, a new monster on the hunt for your friends and the whole town looking for Eddie with (not so) metaphorical pitchforks. But you allow yourself a few more minutes of motionless bliss, feeling Eddie’s presence as it ignites every inner part of you with his sleepy touch. 

When the clock flashes to 7:30 am, you decide that it’s best to get up and start getting ready to leave. You have time, sure, but you’ll need to walk for a while and even if Eddie has recovered a bit he won’t be as fast as he was before his close encounter with Jason’s crew.

With a reluctant sigh, you attempt to move a leg. You manage to untangle it from Eddie’s, so you try to wiggle out of his grasp with caution, unwilling to wake him up as he’ll need all the rest he can get. However, as soon as you start moving away from him, a low “mhm” escapes his lips as his arms softly tighten around your body, causing you to smile in the dark. 

You go for a second attempt, but it proves to be an impossible task: Eddie grunts a bit louder and moves his head to bury it against your neck, taking a deep breath in before muttering something with a raspy voice. 

“What was that?” You whisper, stroking his tangled hair away from his only exposed cheek, your fingers brushing against the polka dot bandaid you placed on him last night. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Eddie repeats, his lips tickling your skin as he speaks while his hand moves up your side in the gentlest caress ever. 

“I’m getting up, Eddie” you reply, wishing with all your heart that you could stay in that bed forever. “I’m going to make breakfast for us and Murray, get our stuff and get ready to leave. But you can rest a bit more”.

Eddie hums, bringing you even closer to him as his eyes finally flutter open - you can’t see them, but you know they are because you can feel his eyelashes grazing your cheek. 

“I’ve just managed to score the most perfect elvish princess in the whole of Middle Earth and she’s already leaving me” he mumbles, his lips smirking against your skin as he plants a soft kiss on your jaw. “It does really take a little to go from Eddie the Banished to Eddie the Forsaken”. 

You chuckle, softly bumping him with your arm  - he matches your laugh, but he cannot hide the hiss of pain that escapes him as your elbow meets his side. 

“Shit, I’m sorry Eddie” you blurt out, fully turning your body towards him to gently stroke the spot you’ve just hit. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart” he replies, nudging his nose against yours. “You could kiss me better, though”.

“God, you’re shameless” you breathe out as you go ahead and, indeed, kiss him. As your lips crash against Eddie’s, you feel every inch of your body light up like Christmas lights. The darkness of the room heightens your senses and you can feel him everywhere - his fingers sneaking under your shirt, his hair tickling your face, his chest breathing heavily under the palms of your hands, his teeth slightly pulling at your lower lip and your breaths mixing up and slowly turning into low moans. It’s a totalizing whirlwind of emotions, and you would die to tear every piece of clothing off of your bodies to feel him even closer - but more pressing matters come back to your mind and you find yourself eventually pulling away from him. 

Eddie sighs deeply as he unwillingly loosens his embrace to let you sit up. “I wish we could stay like this all day” he whispers, nervously running one hand up his face and through his hair. “The thought of going out there again makes me feel like shit”. 

You reach out to him in the dim light of the room, your fingers intertwining with his as the first faint sun rays start filtering through the thick blinds in the window. “Let’s make a deal” you propose. “As soon as we sort this Vecna thing out, you’re taking me out on a date. We can have dinner, if you want - there’s a nice Italian restaurant downtown that I’ve been wanting to try for a while. Or, we can have a milkshake at the diner. Your choice”. 

Eddie’s grin is so bright that it outshines the sunrise seeping into the room. 

“But,” you continue, matching his smile with a gentle curve of your lips, “in order to go to this date, we need you to be safe and alive. And with your name cleared, possibly”.

“Wouldn’t want the whole Hawkins police department to swarm Enzo’s while I’m pouring you some red wine and feeding you a breadstick, right?” Eddie jokes, the scenario he’s just described causing butterflies to make another appearance in your stomach.

“Yeah” you reply, leaning down to peck the tip of his nose before getting off the bed, “I might get offended if you leave me mid-date. Not very gentleman-like, to be honest”.

Eddie clutches his chest theatrically. “Y/n” he exclaims under his breath, “I would never”.

You manage to repress your laugh as you head towards the door. “I’ll take you up on that, then” you say, pointing a finger at him, “and don’t forget the flowers”. 

As you place your hand on the doorknob, however, a feeling of discomfort suddenly hits you, making the playful confidence that you so naturally developed overnight with Eddie waver at the thought of what the consequences of this change in your relationship could bring.

It’s not that you are ashamed of being with Eddie - on the contrary, it feels otherworldly that he actually returns your feelings, and you can’t be happier at the thought of eventually letting your friends know about… whatever this is, or whatever this can turn into. But for a split second, you wonder if these feelings between the two of you could turn into a double-edged sword, hanging over your necks as long as Eddie’s a wanted man.

And just like that, it clicks. You realize that you’ve lived these past few hours into what is nothing but a frail bubble of happiness and renewed hope, hidden under the guise of Murray’s guest room, and that right outside that door and into the real world everything is going to be exactly as it was before you went to sleep. Moreover, you now fear that if anyone else found out about your feelings, they could use them as a weapon, or use you as bait, to hurt Eddie. And you really can’t and don’t want to let it happen.

“Uhm, Eddie?” You whisper, suddenly coming out of your train of thoughts.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He asks, making the mattress creak as he moves to get up as well, a hint of worry in his voice as he catches the change in your tone.

“Maybe you should wait a bit before coming in there” you slowly explain, “like, count to one hundred or something. I don’t know if Murray’s up already, but I think that it’s better if he doesn’t, uh… suspect anything, for now. And the others, as well. For our safety, of course” you’re quick to add with a reassuring smile as you notice his expression saddening a bit, “I think that we should be very careful about our next moves. Keep our cards close to ourselves, not giving anyone anything to hold over us until we’re sure you’re safe”.

Eddie nods slowly, scratching his temple. “Uh, yeah” he agrees, “It, uhm - it makes sense. So we should, like, pretend that everything is… the same, right?”

“I think so, yes” you reply, “until we figure out what’s next”.

Eddie sits back on the mattress with a sigh, making it creak under his weight. You wait for him to give you a sign that he’s ok and that he actually agrees, and the sign finally comes as one of his breathtaking smiles.

“I’ve never been that good at maths”, he finally states, his head tilted to the side as he speaks, “but I think I can count until one hundred”.

—♥︎—

“Good morning, y/n” Murray loudly exclaims as you make your way out of the guest room.

“Hello, Murray” you reply, a bit taken aback by his presence - and by the delicious smell invading your nostrils as you take a step into the living room. It’s coming from the kitchenette, where Murray is noisily fiddling around with a stained apron tied to his waist.

“Did you sleep well?” He very casually asks you, his eyes peering from behind his shoulders as he throws something (salt?) into a pan. 

“Uhm, yes, thank you” you reply, taking a few steps towards him. “Can I help you with anything?” 

“Yes. Will you grab the eggs in the fridge for me please?” He tells you, eyes back on the strips of bacon you’ve just found out he’s been cooking. “Thirty” he then adds, throwing a quick glance at his wristwatch. 

You furrow your eyebrows at him as you open the fridge and grab a pack of eggs. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Murray blatantly ignores your question and, as you place the eggs on the counter beside him, he proceeds to nod to his right. “Could you also get the bread from the toaster as soon as it’s ready? You can find the plates in the cupboard - sixty”

You don’t know what is going on with him and why he’s saying random numbers out loud, but you decide to ignore him and proceed to set up the table.

“Ninety” Murray says, again, and the toaster dings revealing four slices of slightly overburnt bread. As you reach for them to put them on a plate, it finally makes sense - but it’s too late. 

“One hundred!” Murray exclaims, turning around with a twist just as the guest room door opens to reveal an apparently still sleepy Eddie, back in his usual clothes. 

You blush violently as Murray lays his victorious gaze on you. “Knew it” he exclaims with a grin, pointing a fork in your direction before proceeding to steal the plate with the toast from you and placing the sizzling bacon next to the bread. 

“You could have chosen a less predictable number, though” he adds, turning back to the stove to crack the eggs in the pan. 

Eddie looks at you inquisitively, not uttering a single word as you sigh heavily and head back into the guest room to get changed into your own clothes. 

“Nothing better than a good serving of romantic denial in the morning” Murray chants as he scrambles the eggs. “Oh, you may want to take a look at that” he quickly adds, addressing Eddie and nodding towards an open copy of the Hawkins Post on the table. 

Eddie sits down and starts flicking back through the pages until he reaches the front: the huge title, spelling “GOVERNMENT JOINS MURDERER SEARCH”, is very hard to miss, anyway. 

“Fuck” Eddie hisses in desperation as he reads the article, “shit, shit, shit. I’m fucked” he exclaims, dropping the newspaper to bury his face into his hands. 

“Don’t worry, kid” Murray chips in, turning to serve the eggs on the three plates on the table before plopping down on a chair himself, “if we made it out of a Russian secret laboratory alive after causing an explosion that tore down a whole shopping mall and a giant monster, you can make it through this” he says with a consoling tone, “at least you got the girl of your dreams, right?”

“He didn’t get anyone, Murray” you almost yell, emerging from the guest room with yesterday’s outfit back on - but, as soon as you notice the defeat in Eddie’s eyes, you worriedly rush to his side. 

“Eddie, what’s wrong?” You ask him, placing a hand on the back of the chair where he’s sitting. He nods towards the newspaper and you grimace as soon as you read the title. 

“We’ll fix this” you state, inadvertently moving your hand from the chair to his shoulder, squeezing it firmly. “We’ll contact doctor Owens, he’ll make this go away”. 

“He was fired though, wasn’t he?” Murray interjects, his mouth full of eggs and bacon. You look at him with a death glare, eloquent enough to make him backtrack almost instantly. “But we’ll find a way, for sure” he quickly adds, stuffing a piece of toast in his mouth. 

Eddie looks up at you, his brown puppy eyes half covered by his messy fringe. “You think you can do that?” He asks you, the lines in his face relaxing for a second. 

“Yes, we can. He’ll know what to do” you reply, willing to give him even the tiniest sliver of hope, if that’s enough to keep him going. “But right now, you have to eat something. You’ll need all the strength you can get” you tell him, earning a tentative nod in response. 

You sit at the table as well and start to nibble at the food - which is unexpectedly good. And it surprises you how it manages to bring you comfort, making you feel more energized and improving your mood already. 

“Can you, uhm, pass me the orange juice?” Eddie asks you, nodding at the bottle to your right. 

“Mh-mh” you mumble in response, avoiding his gaze as you hand the juice over to him across the table, Murray’s piercing gaze burning through you. 

“Thanks, swee- uh, y/n” Eddie replies, his hand almost missing the bottle once he moves to grab it, as he, too, is avoiding looking in your general direction not to raise any suspicion. Of course, it doesn’t help that Murray’s eyes are studying your every movement, making the atmosphere so tense and embarrassing at the same time that you fear you might burst out into a laugh any second now. 

Thankfully, the silence that follows makes it easier for you to stay serious. Now even Murray is back to focusing on his breakfast, so between one forkful and the other, you feel free to occasionally glimpse at Eddie - and you come to the conclusion that pretending that nothing between you two has happened is going to be way harder than you thought.

Just by glancing at him, you feel your neck and cheeks heating up. It doesn’t matter that he’s quite disheveled, with messy hair, dark circles around his eyes (one turning slightly yellow from the punch he received yesterday) and a crinkled Hellfire shirt. He looks unexpectedly and incredibly good, and not just because of the subtle beauty in his looks, which is always there - but also and especially because of how brave and resilient you know him to be.

You tell yourself that it’s not exactly the right time to think about this kind of things, but you can’t help your gaze from following the movements of his hands and fingers as they slightly drum the fork on the plate, and the way his nose scrunches up as a random thought travels through his mind. And just like that a thought (or better, a memory) travels through your mind, too - and suddenly you’re back in the guest room bed, with his hands all over you, and his mouth exploring yours-

“Dear god, y/n” Murray exclaims, tiny crumbles of bread flying as he slams a hand on the table, “Was it really that good?”

Realization dawns on you as you find out with horror that you’ve been staring into the void with a smile plastered on your lips, a piece of bacon hanging from your fork in mid-air.

You instantly look at Eddie, who is blushing slightly and has his eyes fixed on the last piece of toast on his plate. Hidden beneath the hair that’s falling around his face like a wavy curtain, his lips are curled in a small smirk. 

“I, uh… I’ll start putting the dishes away, yeah?” You blurt out as you jump to your feet, purposefully looking at the clock above the fridge before grabbing your plate. “Then I think we should start moving”.

“As you wish” Murray agrees, “Just make sure to take your jaw as well - I think it’s fallen on the floor” he adds, snickering to himself as he follows your lead and gets up, heading towards the bathroom and locking himself in. 

“Well, that’s a heeeell of a good start” Eddie observes, tilting his head to the side as he helps you pile the plates and collect the cutlery before placing everything in the sink. “Is he always like that?”

You sigh, already exhausted even if the day’s just started. “Yes, he is” you nod, leaning back on the counter, arms crossed on your chest. “But he’s just… Murray. So I guess that’s okay” you smile. He might be annoying sometimes, but Murray is someone you can always count on - so you’re definitely glad that he’s on your side, even with his unforgiving honesty. 

Eddie takes a step towards you. He’s towering over you now, and he places a hand flat on your head, slightly ruffling your hair. “Soooo” he says, the lilt in his voice and the smirk on his lips making your heart skip a beat, “what were you thinking that made you smile like that?”.

“Don’t even try that, Munson. I’m not going to flatter you that easily” You reply as you swat his hand away, scoffing jokingly - but your fingers find themselves intertwined with Eddie’s, the metal of his rings hard against your skin. 

Eddie lets out a small laugh. “Oh, sweetheart, if there’s one thing that you should know is that flattery wooorks with me” he says, pulling you closer. You get lost in his eyes for a second, then your gaze travels down to his lips…

The sound of the bathroom door unlocking makes you both jump away from each other. 

“Alright, lady and gentleman. Time to go” Murray exclaims as he walks back into the living room, clapping his hands while his narrowed eyes scan your way too casual expressions. “The plane is not going to wait for me and I’m not going to miss my flight because of you two lovebirds. So, door’s that way - chop chop”.

“Murray” you sigh, “for the umpteenth time, we’re not-“

“Ah-ha!” Murray shushes you, putting his hands up with annoyance. “Don’t you dare, y/n. My poor old eyes have seen enough in twenty minutes to know that you’ve lovingly spent the night in each other’s arms, whispering sweet nothings and puckering your lips all the goddamn time. And as much as I find that way too cheesy, you know there’s nothing wrong with admitting that you’re so into each other you can’t even eat breakfast, right?” He blurts out. “I swear to god I don’t know what’s wrong with young people today. In my time, we preached free love and we had no problem saying we were sexually act-“

“OKAY” you interrupt him, not really wanting to know how that speech ends, “Okay, Murray, I got it. We got it” you say with a big fake smile, looking at Eddie for support. He, on his part, proceeds to hide his embarrassment with a cough and grabs his leather jacket and denim vest from the sofa, where they’ve been lying since last night. 

“Aaaall ready to go” he then states, as calmly as if nothing weird has been said, before turning to Murray with his hand held out. “Thanks, man” he adds, “I owe you one”. 

Murray shakes it with a sigh. “Mi casa es tu casa” he replies, “but now, please, leave”.

—♥︎—

The metal door of Murray’s warehouse closes behind you with a bang. In front of you, across from the empty street, the woods are waiting. 

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for what’s to come. 

“Ready?” You ask Eddie, turning your head to look up at him. 

“It’s not like I have any other options” he says with a small smile, the light morning breeze making his hair waver as they brush on his shoulders. “But yes” he adds, his hand intertwining with yours and squeezing it softly. “I’m ready”.

You take a few careful steps, cross the road with a quick jog and disappear into the woods, hand in hand.��

—♥︎—

Hope you liked it :) Feedback is always welcome!

Taglist: @copycatkillerfics

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #murray bauman

[crimsonshadow323]

@mrhalloween2ficpage

It’s meme time again! Beep! Beep! all aboard the Meme train! :)

Here are some memes from a few of your fics. I honestly can’t remember which fics you’ve updated since you’ve done so many but here’s some haha

and also some others that are just me giving you and your fics love because you deserve it. 

#ITS MEME TIME AGAIN #stranger things #fanfictions #mike wheeler #murray bauman #karen wheeler #HAPPY BIRTDAY MIKE WHEELER

[pitifulbaby]

#this is very important to me #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrinngton #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #argyle #jonathan byers #murray bauman #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #Dustin henderson

[wisdomssdaughterr]

PROJECT SUNSHINE CHAPTER NINETEEN → THE P.I.

summary: steve harrington x oc

when another product of Hawkins National Laboratory escaped a long-survived nightmare alongside her sister, she crashed into one unsuspecting teenage boy and dragged him deeper into the dark mysteries that made up their hometown.

word count. 2.8k

warnings: cannon typical violence, child abuse, horror, gore, and depictions of mental illness. parts of this story were written pre-season 4 release. cannon divergence.

previous chapter ← → next chapter

The Green Thumb was Mary-Jane Torres’s third pride and joy. Sunshine was the first, then Blue - their dog. 

The Green Thumb was a quaint flower shop within walking distance from their house, positioned in what Mary-Jane considered the perfect spot in downtown Hawkins. It was practically overflowing with beautiful plants that Sunshine’s mother was teaching her how to take care of. The two spent most of their mornings and afternoons at the shop while the other kids around town were at school. 

“Are you excited for Halloween?” Mary-Jane asked from behind the front counter, working on a special bouquet. Sunshine hummed in response as she watered. “After we close today, maybe we could go shopping for a costume for your party?”

It turned out to be pretty easy for Sunshine to convince her parents to let her attend the high school Halloween party with Steve and Nancy. They were happy she was doing normal teenage things, but Sunshine was still on the fence about going. 

It wasn’t so much about the safety aspect of going, nothing Upside Down or Lab related had happened for almost a full year. Rather, it was the idea of spending a whole night surrounded by other teenagers who she didn’t know, but who believed they knew her. 

Sunshine was the furthest thing from a “normal” teen, and it was hard for her to blend in when everyone in Hawkins knew that she had something to hide. One slip up and she’d become the talk of the town all over again. She feared they’d see right through her. 

“Honey, you’re drowning the mums,” Mary-Jane said. Water overflowed from the flowerpot Sunshine had been watering and it puddled at her feet. 

“Sorry,” she muttered before setting down the watering can. 

Mary-Jane blocked her path to the backroom and peered at her daughter with concern swimming in her dark eyes. “Is everything okay?” 

The look her mother gave her caused guilt to sink like a stone in Sunshine’s stomach. The weight of actively lying to her mother and father was heavy on her heart. 

The story of Danielle Torres was muddled and skewed to make it easier to believe for her parents and the rest of Hawkins. Everyone believed that she was kidnapped at the age of six, which was true. Who took her remained a mystery, one that people were very curious about but were too scared to ask. All anyone knew was that her kidnapper, after ten whole years, let their guard down enough for her to escape and find her way back home, and that was that. 

Most people bought the story, but there were holes poked in it that didn’t add up and a few people started to notice. 

Lying to the people of Hawkins didn’t bother Sunshine, but lying to her parents did. She knew that they wanted to know the full story because they thought that if they understood what she’d been through, they could help her heal and move on from it. Sunshine knew that wasn’t true, though. There was a little, nagging voice in the back of her head that reminded her that if her parents knew the full truth, they’d no longer see her as their little girl, but as something much worse. 

“Yeah, sorry. I’m okay,” Sunshine said with a tight-lipped smile. 

Mary-Jane didn’t seem to buy it, but she didn’t press any further. Instead, she said, “Why don’t you take a break and grab some fresh air? I’ll finish watering and close early for the day. We’ll get a head start on shopping for a costume for Halloween, okay?”

Sunshine nodded and weaved through the maze of vines and flowers until she stepped outside. There was a bench not far from the shop that she often made herself comfortable at when she needed a moment to clear her head. 

All of her time cooped up inside the Lab made her more enchanted by the outdoors. Since she escaped, she’d spent more time outside than indoors. There was something about the endless expanse of the sky that hung over her head and the way the cool air felt against her skin that brought peace to her. When the sunlight warmed her limbs and coated everything in gentle light, she felt alive.

There were a couple of people out and about the downtown area. Sunshine watched them with one hand absentmindedly playing with the sun pendant on the necklace that she never took off. 

A small smile formed on her lips when she spotted Will Byers’s mother, Joyce, hand in hand with her new boyfriend, Bob Newby, as they enjoyed their daily lunchtime stroll around the block. 

Sunshine was glad she didn’t have to lie to everyone in her life. Her band of middle schoolers, the trio of monster hunters, Hopper, and Joyce were the only souls in Hawkins who knew the truth. When she was with them, she felt less alienated, and the world felt a little less suffocating. 

She’d never had friends before, not in the traditional sense; the children of Hawkins Lab were her family and there was never a sense of normalcy behind the white walls, there was only survival. Within her new, tight-knit group, Sunshine had real friends who cared for her almost as much as she cared for them. It was nice and it was normal; that was all she had ever wanted. 

Despite the lack of anything Upside Down or Lab related, Hawkins as a whole was far from normal. 

“Nice weather we’re having,” a voice said, joining her on the lone bench. 

Sunshine let out a sigh and kept her eyes focused on the street in front of her. “I thought Hopper told you to leave my family and me alone?” 

The man on the opposite side of the bench scoffed like she had offended him. “I don’t work for him,” he said. “Actually, I don’t work for anyone.”

With a roll of her eyes, a gesture she picked up from Mike and his endless amount of pre-teen angst, Sunshine glanced to the side and met the scruffy-looking man with dark hair and a receding hairline. He didn’t look like the professional he claimed he was. Hopper called him a con man.

“Mr. Bauman, I already told you everything I know,” She said, lying right through her teeth. “I don’t know what else you want.”

Murray Bauman, an annoyingly persistent man, narrowed his gaze at her just slightly. “You and I both know that’s not true. All I want is to help the Holland family find their missing daughter.”

It took everything inside Sunshine not to grimace at his words. 

Barbara’s parents still help out hope that their daughter was alive and out there somewhere because, as Nancy had said, Barb wasn’t the kind of kid who would run away. No matter how the people at Lab tried to spin in, those who knew Barbara knew that. 

Everything Sunshine had learned about Barb was secondhand from Nancy before it became too painful for the girl to speak about and then the two of them would curl up on the couch of the Wheeler or Torres household and watch whatever cheesy movie Nancy plucked from her basement.

While Sunshine listened to Nancy about Barb, Nancy listen to Sunshine talk about Eleven. They both lost someone they loved to a monster, and it was impossibly difficult to cope with that, but at least they weren’t alone; at least they understood each other. 

“I already told you, I didn’t know Barbara,” Sunshine replied. Maybe she only knew her second hand, but she was one of the last people to talk to her before she died, and for some reason, she felt like the private investigator beside her knew that.

Murray hummed in response and folded his hands on his lap while he stared out into the street too. 

“It’s funny to me how no one in this town wants to talk or wants to tell the truth,” he said. “And you know what else? No one wants to listen either. It’s almost like…like you’re all in one big secret. But that’s too far-fetched, right?” 

Sunshine shrugged and tried to keep her cool by curling her fingers into the fabric of her oversized sweater. “I don’t know,” she said simply. “I haven’t been here long. I don’t know much.” 

She felt terrible. 

She felt terrible for the Hollands, for Nancy, for everyone who became unwillingly involved. All of their hands were tied with too many secrets they had to hide. If it had been up to Sunshine, if she was a little stronger and braver, she’d tell everyone what happened inside the Lab and who was responsible for it. 

However, as Hopper had said, the truth of the Upside Down and the Lab were not pills people would swallow. So, it would forever remain a secret. 

“Do you want to know what I think?” Murray didn’t wait for Sunshine to answer. “I think something is going on here. And I plan on figuring it out.” 

He stood up from the bench, but paused for a moment, waiting for Sunshine to spill her guts. 

She wouldn’t. Instead, she shook her head and met his eye narrowly. “I don’t think you will, Mr. Bauman.” 

A challenging look flickered in his gaze, but he paired it with an impressed smile. “You should know how much I hate children. You all are extraordinarily irritating, but you, are obnoxiously cryptic. All of your answers to my questions make it painfully obvious that you’re hiding something. So, I suggest you either tell the truth or get better at lying.” 

Sunshine’s golden gaze reflected the sunlight that glittered high in the October sky as she offered the man a short nod. “Okay,” she said. “Have a good day, Mr. Bauman.” 

With one final scoff, Murray took off down the sidewalk, leaving Sunshine alone on the bench once more. She rolled her tense shoulders back and made sure he was out of sight before she buried her head in her hands. 

Everyone was so determined to figure out the truth, but none of them had the slightest clue of the nightmares that would follow it.

Later that evening, after shopping with her mother to find the perfect Halloween costume, the Torres family gathered around the dining room table for a dinner complete with greasy pizza and breadsticks. 

Sunshine’s father played his old records quietly from the player in the living room, and Blue waited patiently at Sunshine’s feet awaiting pieces of pepperoni.

“What costume did you pick out? Did you go with my Princess Leia idea?” Walter asked. 

Sunshine shook her head. “I’m going as Wonder Woman.” 

Mary-Jane smiled brightly. “I told her we’ll have to dig up all my old comic books from the attic. I think you’d love ‘em.” 

Mary-Jane had talked Sunshine’s ear off about the superhero when they spotted the costume at the store. 

The gaggle of middle schoolers Sunshine knew often talked about their comic book collection, so she was somewhat familiar with what that was. What she didn’t know was that there were comic books with girls on the covers, not just boys in spandex suits. 

Apparently, Mary-Jane was once an avid comic book collector in her time, but her favorite hero was Wonder Woman. She had boxes upstairs in the attic filled with her old collection. Mary-Jane excitedly offered to help Sunshine with her hair and makeup too, to make her look like the perfect replica of the superhero. 

In the short span of their shopping trip, and a little more insight into her mother’s teenage years, Sunshine grew more excited about the party. She knew that with Steve and Nancy by her side, the night had the potential to be as fun as high school parties looked in the movies. Maybe a night as a normal teen would help her clear her head as well. 

The family lapsed into their usual small talk about their day, while Sunshine fixed her gaze on the empty seat at the table. 

There were four chairs at their dining room table, despite them being a family of three, but Sunshine’s parents often had company over. The extra seat was handy, but it looked lonely come dinner time with just the three of them. Sunshine found herself imagining her sister there to fill the empty seat.

As time pressed on, the grief of Eleven’s loss lessened just s little inside Sunshine’s heart, but there wasn’t a day that passed that she didn’t think of her little sister. Sometimes it felt as if Eleven was still there. When she was alone in her room, Sunshine felt something crawl down her spine and a strange feeling settled in the air like she wasn’t alone in that moment.

Sunshine didn’t know what that meant, but she did know that Eleven deserved to be in a warm home like hers, with people who loved her. She deserved a chance at a normal life, but it was stolen from her, unfairly. 

It was hard for her to talk about Eleven; she couldn’t bring her sister up to her parents and she felt guilty mentioning her around the party. Even though they hadn’t known her long, the kids all missed Eleven too, especially Mike who took her death the hardest. They all needed to heal and move on with their lives, and Sunshine figured she wouldn’t be helping if she brought up such a sensitive topic. 

Sometimes she’d talk about Eleven to Steve or Nancy, but they too were reeling with the events of last year; it didn’t feel right to burden them with her troubles too.

For the most part, Sunshine kept her grief and ghosts to herself. They remained locked up inside her brain that brimmed with too many secrets. Maybe one day she’d spill them, or maybe they’d follow her into the grave.

“Sweetheart?” Mary-Jane’s voice pulled Sunshine’s gaze away from the empty chair. “Are you sure you want to go to the party tomorrow? You don’t have to if that’s what has got you all worried. Your friends will understand.”

She wasn’t worried about the party, or rather, it wasn’t on her main list of worries. 

“No, I want to go,” she insisted. 

No matter how difficult it was, Sunshine wanted, so badly, to be a normal kid - whatever that meant. She wanted to do normal things like Steve and Nancy did like go to parties and talk to people her age. She didn’t want to remain a stranger to the outside world for the rest of her life.

Sunshine pushed her half-eaten plate of pizza away from her and stood up from the table. “I’m just tired. I gonna lie down.” 

Before her parents had a chance to respond, she disappeared from the dining room and into her bedroom. 

Once the door was closed behind her, a heavy sigh fell from her parted lips as she fell into her unmade bed. 

Warm blankets, with flower patterns, engulfed her body. Sunshine rested her head on a heap of pillows and squeezed her eyes closed tight enough to make little stars appear in the inky black of her vision. The stars couldn’t cover up the images of her sister in her mind, or the flashing light and bloodied teeth of a monster. They always came back to her when she was alone to remind Sunshine of what she’d never be able to outrun.

She couldn’t handle the violent images that danced around her mind and peeled her eyes back open. A nap would ruin her night’s sleep anyway, she thought, and there was no doubt she’d be met with nightmares the second her body was lulled to sleep. 

Instead, she lifted her arm above her and rolled down the sleeve of her sweater, revealing her tattoo in the warm lamplight of her bedroom. 

The numbers were healed over with old and new scars from her bad habit of scratching the tattoo when she was upset or stressed. She felt like the tattoo defined her, but not in all bad ways. Her tattoo was the one thing all of the children of Hawkins Lab shared. None of them had been related by blood, aside from the twins, but the tattoos were thicker than blood; it used to be their tether to one another. 

Sunshine rubbed her thumb over the ink before she let her arm fall onto her chest. Upon her ceiling, the first and last thing she saw every day, was press on stars that glowed in the dark. 

At first, she feared the stars would remind her too much of her room back inside the Lab, but she found it nearly impossible to sleep without them. The stars were Ivy’s idea, long ago, and they served as a reminder of the dark-eyed girl who Sunshine liked to believe still watched over her. 

She didn’t want to forget that, Ivy, or the other kids. She didn’t want to scrub her mind completely of the Lab. After all, she was the last one - who she was aware of - left alive. If she forgot, who would remember all of the children who never made it out? 

She wouldn’t let them be only ghosts in her mind; she just needed to become less scared to talk about them.

Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @sattlersquarry , @lovefrom-theother-side

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things season 2 #murray bauman #project sunshine

[lovelandfrogispookybear]

17: Run the Taps

Dustin's pov

I pace around Steve's house. They went off to find Murray, and the rest of us are stuck back here waiting for something to happen.

"Guys! There's a radio announcement!" Will calls from the living room.

"I haven't heard one of these in ages," Mike comments. We all gather around the dusty device, and words crackle out of the speaker.

"Hello Hawkins. Due to the recent events and drastic changes in the climate, you are all urged to stay inside. Electricity and water are already on the fritz, so empty your fridges to avoid food spoilage and fill your sinks and tubs with water so you have a water source. Military presence is expected to double, and if they come knocking, please do your best to adhere to their rules. Good luck all, we'll do our best to keep you updated."

"I will go run the taps," El says, walking towards the bathrooms.

"I'll go empty the fridge, Otto, do you want to help me?" Will says.

"Will, do you need any help?" Mike asks.

"No, it's ok! Go help El!" Will says. The smile on his face seems a bit strained, but he must be tired.

"Are you sure?" Mike looks almost disappointed when Will shakes his head.

Murray's pov

I hear knocking on my door. I set down my novel and go to check the security system, before realizing it's down.

"Mother fucker, what's it now?" I ask myself, taking a swig of vodka. "Damn Hawkins folks!" I walk to the door, and unlatch the deadbolts.

"Make this quick, I'm still recovering from that trip to Rus-" I start. "Nancy Wheeler?" I ask, getting a closer look. A pack of other kids runs up behind her. "Ok, what do you all want now?"

"It's about all this that's happening right now!" A blond girl wearing suspenders in the back pipes up.

"Let me guess. You want to use my house as some little hiding place?" I ask. "Because, that was exactly my plan."

"Wait, really?" Nancy says, confused.

"I mean it does seem lately, that every time this little squad of yours has a problem," I start, putting a hand on my hip. "I'm the one bailing you out."

"I wouldn't go that far-" Nancy starts.

"Ah ah ah. Barbra, and BOTH times I had to deal with the Russian government?" I bellow. "But, as I said, I anticipated this. After that first bout of greyness- come in come in- and rushed to the stores."

I step aside.

Will's pov

"Take this jar of jelly, you can make a sandwich!" I hand her a jar of grape jelly as I remove condiments from the fridge.

"Sandwich?" She asks, peering into the jar.

"Grab that bread over there-" I instruct. Otto nods, and grabs it. "Now open the bag and get two slices. Put jelly on one, and peanut butter on the other," I add, handing her the peanut butter. She dips her hand into the jar, and smears jelly onto one of the bread slices.

"Can we add red?" Otto asks as she adds peanut butter to the other slice.

"Well well well, what's happening in here Pipsqueak?" Eddie walks into the kitchen. Otto shows him her sandwich, and he laughs. "Let's clean you up, then we can label those jars with your name so only you can use them, okay?"

Otto nods.

"Hey, when she says red, what does that mean?" I ask as Otto busies herself washing up at the kitchen sink.

"Red is either the expensive steak she ate yesterday or watermelon. If she wants to put it on that monstrosity of a pb&j, I'd say watermelon."

"Otto, what if we try a new red?" I ask. Eddie walks back out to the living room, and I grab a dish of strawberries. Otto grabs the dish greedily, and tears the strawberries into small bits; sprinkling them on her sandwich, She puts the bread together, and takes a messy bite. Her eyes light up, and she shoves the rest into her mouth and goes to wash her hands off again.

Eddie's pov

I hear knocking on the door. I pull it open, and an unfamiliar face greets me.

"Hello Hawkins, I am back!" The face belongs to a bearded man wearing glasses and a floral print robe. "And I brought some more folks!"

"Mom!" Will shouts, running from the kitchen.

"Dad!" El follows, bolting from the hallway.

El throws herself into the chief of police's arms, and Will tenderly hugs the dark haired woman. Otto comes up behind me, and hides behind my legs. After a few moments, everyone breaks apart.

"Well who's this little kiddo?" The dark haired woman asks, motioning to Otto. She steps out slowly, and smiles a toothy grin. The woman steps back a bit, but reaches a hand out to shake. Otto takes it as an invitation, and grabs her arm and shakes it vigorously.

"If it isn't Eddie Munson!" Chief says, patting me on the back. "No drugs here kid, there are children running around."

"I'm here with Otto and Dustin," I stammer, but Chief chuckles.

"No worries. Call me Hopper."

"And I'm Joyce," the dark haired woman smiles. "Will is my son, El is my daughter, and Hopper is my partner."

"And I'm Murray!" The bearded man who knocked at the door jumps in. "Your guys' little squad grabbed me, and thanks to them we now have a tank and a military grade truck full of supplies."

"And a warehouse. Murray drove us by one and it's only like a 20 minute walk from here," Robin says.

"Minor detail guys," Dustin says. "Do we have Max and Lucas?"

"We couldn't go to the hospital. It's in a really infested area and we couldn't risk driving noisy cars through it," Jonathan explains.

"Well we need to get to them, communicate with them. And not just through the void," Dustin shoots a look at El. "We need to get to them in person as soon as possible, so if anybody is in danger we can get to them as soon as possible."

"How are we supposed do that?" Mike asks, walking out.

"If we can't drive, then how are we supposed to get there?" I say to myself. "We don't drive. We take someone who can handle the things out there. You take Otto."

I look over to Otto.

"Pipsqueak? Do you want to go on a field trip?" I ask her. She nods.

#we found her down there #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #dustin henderson #will byers #steve harrington #mike wheeler #el hopper #murray bauman #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #jim hopper #joyce byers #the upside down #tw swearing #bubble writes words

[itsgoghtime]

Travelin’ Man

The Long Way Home Series : Part 3

CW: Fluff, angst if you squint, many words, very very long, Russia kind of, hurt/comfort, season 4.

Words : 7078

"Come on, kids are just the burden of society - we don't need them dragging us around for the rest of our lives."

"Murray, I want to know, okay? Even if it doesn't end up being with you. I want to have kids." At this, the door opened, and we went quiet.

The words I didn't want to hear. There they were, coming out of the mouth of the doctor.

I couldn't have kids.

I pulled my hand from Murray's, and the doctor offered their condolences as we exited the building.

I walked next to Murray on the sidewalk, not saying a word. He had noticed the shift since we had received the news, and couldn't quite figure out how to comfort me.

"I want to say..." he started, pausing for another few minutes because he couldn't quite articulate how to say it. "I want to say I'm sorry."

I chuckled under my breath, shaking my head.

"No, really. I am. I'm sorry."

"Murray, no you're not. You've spent the last month trying to talk me out of wanting to have kids and now that..." my breath hitched in my throat, making me pause a moment to compose myself as best I could. "And now that we know this, I'm sure you're more than happy with the results of months of testing and will tell me how much of a waste of money this whole ordeal was." I looked at him, his eyes filled with concern, and shook my head again. "I know."

We didn't speak even after we arrived back at home. I went and got in the shower, running the water over my back as I felt the feelings begin to numb.

While I was in the shower, Murray picked up some of the stuff in the apartment, cleaning things up and starting the risotto - the dish he knew was my absolute favorite.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Murray turned down the heat on the stove, and after stirring the pot, came over to me and held out his hand.

My eyes met his, and I took his hand and he pulled me into him, swaying ever so gently to the cassette I had made a few months back for our five year anniversary of being together. It was music Murray hadn't typically enjoyed, but I had found just a few songs in my favorite category (that quite frankly ended up being his favorites) that he didn't mind so much, and made the mixtape.

How Deep is Your Love, by The Bee Gees came on and I rested my forehead against his.

"(Y/N), I'm sorry."

"I know."

"I've been an absolute dickhead."

"I know. But you're my dickhead."

We didn't say anything for another minute or so, and he held me closer.

"I want to help you feel better."

My lips met his, and when he pulled away, he brought me to his side as he went to stir the risotto again.

Soon enough, the risotto was done and we went and sat cross legged on the couch, facing each other.

"So, what do you want to do tonight?"

I smiled, gently scraping the side of my bowl with my spoon. "I don't know, I wish I felt like going out and doing something but that's..." I paused, feeling completely guilty, because this was usually the one night a week that we'd go and do something, if it meant going to a bowling alley or the bar or anywhere, really.

"Hey, it's okay. We can stay in, we aren't obligated to go anywhere until you are feeling more like yourself again." His hand found it's way to my knee, gently running his thumb over it. I smiled, and we went back to the risotto.

The night was spent on the couch watching television, as Murray had suspected; snuggling, as Murray had hoped. It wasn't too noticeable, but Murray held me just a little closer. He vowed to himself that there wasn't anything or anybody that he would ever again allow to hurt me as much as this news had. He just wouldn't allow it. He noticed my tighter hold on him and the occasional random tears that he so gently wiped away, and made a promise to himself that being my protector would always be his first priority.

I yawned, and Murray caught it, yawning himself and chuckling. He looked at his watch, and sighed.

"Well, my dear, I think it's time to go to bed. It's past 2."

I nodded, and for a few moments, we just snuggled closer.

Murray mumbled something softly, as if he was asking himself a question.

I hummed, leaning into his neck.

"Marry me, lover."

At this, I turned in Murray's arms to look more fully at him. I couldn't see any signs of joking, but I chuckled a little.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No." Murray stated, completely deadpan.

"You're saying a lot of strange things today, Murray Bauman. I'm... I'm..." I couldn't find the words to continue, so Murray filled in the gaps.

"Listen, lover. We've been dancing around this for a really long time. I've had the ring - the one you had mentioned to me - for two years. It's sitting in the top drawer of the dresser under my socks in the back - you can look if you're so skeptical." For a moment, I just looked at him. Within seconds, I bolted up and ran to the bedroom and he heard the incessant scraping sound that the drawers made, and took a mental note that we either needed to sand it down or buy a new dresser.

"You know," he called from the couch, "I just think it's about time we did something about this, that's all. I can't play matchmaker again until we figure this out because I'm kind of tired of people shoving my own advice down my throat and not being willing to take it myself."

I stepped down the stairs, holding the box firmly in my hands. I made eye contact, and he raised his eyebrows at me.

"Well, are you going to open it?"

I didn't respond, instead going back to sit where I had been before, as his arm came back around me.

Murray studied me for a minute, trying to figure out what was going on in my head.

"I'm afraid to open it."

He caressed my face in one of his hands. "Why is that, love?"

It took me a moment, but Murray knew if he gave me the time, I would always tell him what was going on. "I've been this close before. And it didn't... work out. I don't want to lose you because you get scared of the commitment to someone like me. Especially with how today went."

His lips met my forehead, then gently taking the box from my white knuckled hands. He turned it towards me, opening it.

"Then let this be a win for you." His eyes met mine, and he smiled gently. "I know this is scary. But if I'm being honest, there's no one else I'd rather have as Mrs Bauman. We will be okay."

He saw the relief in my eyes, replacing the fear with elation.

"Now, do you wanna marry me or do you wanna put this away and forget we ever had this conversation? Because that's okay too - you've been through so much today already."

I just smiled, the tears rolling down my cheeks making me laugh. "Yes Murray. I wanna marry you."

He giggled like a school girl, taking the ring out of its box, putting it on my waiting finger.

We sat and stared at it for a moment, the fifth rerun episode of Andy Griffith starting on the television.

"We're gonna do this, aren't we?" I whispered.

He laughed again. "Yes, lover. We're gonna do this and we're gonna do it together." He kissed my hand, bringing it to his chest.

We turned back to the show for a moment, and he laughed.

"You know..."

"I know, Murray. You don't understand why I like entertainment like this - but I end up loving what you introduce me to so I think the interest should go both ways." I laughed.

"Well, okay. That too, but I had not planned for any of this to happen how it did. I'm surprised." He saw the look I gave him, and he laughed again. "Not in a bad way - I've never been happier. I had just expected some cliché like everyone else - a fancy dinner or a concert or something and the grand finale comes out in a little box at the end."

I snuggled closer to him, and he kissed the top of my head. "I like it this way."

"Me too, lover. Me too."

I couldn't tell when we fell asleep, but with what felt like just a few moments, I was adjusting next to Murray in his arms as we laid on the couch - the sun beginning to peek through the half shut blinds.

I felt my finger again, and smiled, cupping his face with my hand and running my fingers gently through his beard. I admired how the ring glimmered in the sun, and how peaceful Murray looked with it all.

He stirred, slowly opening his eyes and smiling gently at me. "Hey you." He pulled me closer.

"Hi."

"You are looking mighty fine this morning, Mrs. Bauman."

His lips met mine, gently intertwining our legs and held me to him.

"I mean," he started when we pulled apart, "I know it's not official yet, but..."

I cut him off with my lips on his. "It is what it is, Mr. Bauman." He smiled.

"You know, I think we should stay like this all day. Don't go anywhere, make some waffles or something; we can put in the VHS for The Muppet Movie because as much as I despise it, I know how much you love it and I'm willing to put it on as long as you promise to snuggle."

I laughed, running my fingers gently through his beard. "I love you, Murray Bauman."

"I love you too, (Y/N) Bauman." He paused for a moment, smiling to himself. "I really like how that sounds. Your name with mine, I mean, wow. It's practically a revelatory experience."

I chuckled, and he kissed my nose.

"I could get used to that." He whispered. "(Y/N) Bauman."

Eventually, we did get up and he decided we needed chocolate chip waffles. So there we were, in the kitchen, making the batter to Jackie Wilson's Your Love Keeps Lifting Me Higher and Higher. Murray tied an apron around me, then tying his around himself and doing his little dance with me.

There was a special story to the aprons - he had his original apron that he had bought when visiting Europe once, but the second apron I had made for his birthday just last year. I had quilted it, with the help of his mom, and when I had gifted it to him, I had been so nervous. It had so many imperfections, and I knew it wouldn't ever compare to the one he had gotten in Europe.

However, the moment Murray laid eyes on the apron, his eyes filled with tears. I was afraid at first that I had offended him, but he took me into his arms and kissed me warmly.

"This is the most beautiful apron I have ever laid eyes on. Thank you so much, lover, this means the world and more to me." He took it out of its wrapping, holding it up in all its glory. "Okay so now we need to bake something."

At the incredulous look I gave him, he quickly reaffirmed, "I know it's 9:00 at night, but such a beautiful apron must be put to work. How do you feel about Baklava?"

And that was just the beginning - he never took this apron off when we were in the kitchen together - I was in turn given stewardship over the European apron. But he insisted on using the apron I had made him, becoming genuinely obsessed with it and becoming incredibly distressed when it became dirty or something would splash on it. (Which is why vodka is the superior alcohol, because it doesn't stain, Murray reminded me)

So here we were, making chocolate chip waffles in our aprons, respectively.

The first batch made it into the waffle maker, and his arms found their way to my waist.

"How are you feeling, lover?"

"I am feeling pretty good this morning."

Murray hummed, bringing his lips to mine.

"Glad to hear it."

We went through the first waffles, and put the rest of the batter in the waffle iron and waited again.

"Murray, don't you have karate today at one?"

He sighed. "Yeah, I do. But I'll stay home, I want to make sure you're taken care of."

I smiled. "I appreciate that love, I really do. But I'm doing alright, and I know how much you love karate. I will be okay for a couple hours while you're gone."

"You sure? I will stay if you need me to."

"I am sure, Murray. You can go to karate and I will be okay." I leaned up and kissed his nose, caressing his neck with my hand, then moving a little to open the waffle maker to pull out the last ones.

"I still don't know how you can always tell right when they're done."

We finished the waffles, and Murray got ready to leave for karate.

"Alright, so let me reconfirm plans for tonight."

I nodded, trying to hide my smile. He was trying to mask his concern about leaving me as best he could, but wasn't doing it so well.

"I'll get home and do the ice bath, we make chicken Alfredo, play a few rounds of Uno, put the Muppet Movie in and go to bed, right?"

"Spot on, love. Didn't miss a beat."

He chuckled. "Good. Just want to make sure everything is in order." We met in the entryway, and he pressed his lips to the top of my head. "I will see you after 3."

"See you then."

I spent the two hours he was gone cleaning - starting the dishwasher, sweeping the floor, putting things away. It had been a long couple of days, and I finally felt like doing something around the house. Murray had always been so helpful with accomplishing house work - he was never the type to just leave me to do it by myself.

I had noticed that he had picked up most of what we had left lying around the last few days - he had even started a load of laundry, which I finished while he was gone.

Towards 3, I was cleaning the bathroom and found a box of pregnancy tests I had bought a few months before. I took a moment and held it to my chest, letting a few tears fall. I had pretty much come to accept this new reality, but it wasn't going to be smooth sailing, and I knew that.

I heard the front door open, and soon Murray's hand was on my shoulder. He gave the top of my head a kiss, then whispering "We will get through this together, love. It's okay to take a moment."

He helped me up off my knees and into his arms.

"I've got ya, (Y/N). I've got ya."

I threw the box away, and he led me into the living room. "Now, tonight we're going to have fun." He looked around, seeing all the cleaning that had been done. "Goodness gracious, lover. Looks like I may have to fight you for the little housewife trophy. I mean, I've really got to up my game."

I laughed, and he met my lips with his again. "Granted, I think you'll make a pretty little housewife."

I smirked, and the telephone announced another missed call. "You stay right here, I'll be back."

Murray called the number back, addressing Joyce and making his way to the freezer to get the ice.

"I have karate from one to three on Fridays. " He turned, facing my direction. "Hey lover, we're going to need to go get more ice!"

I assumed Joyce asked about me, because he made eye contact with me and smiled. "She's doing okay. We've had a bit of a rough go this week with some stuff, but we'll be okay." He paused to hear her response, then scoffed a bit. "No, we're not having relationship problems. We... she... no we're not breaking up with each other, Joyce. My heavens. Now, before we get carried away, let's address your doll situation."

While Murray continued his conversation, I continued to clean the house. I had it pretty much how I wanted, but I finished nonetheless. He was soon out of his ice bath, wandering around in a towel telling her to "smash the doll" and freaking out when she wasn't responding. He went upstairs and changed, and came back down talking to Joyce in a hushed tone. He sat in the rocking chair, and I took it on myself to gently work out the knots in his shoulders.

"You really think Hop could still be alive?"

She said something, and he sighed. He turned slightly to look at me, his eyes softening. "You want my help, don't you?" He said as more of a statement than a question. After she responded, Murray put his free hand on mine. "We'll see what we can do - look at flights and such... No Joyce, we can pay for it ourselves. No, just... fine. I'll let you know when we're getting in."

He hung up, kissing my hand.

I smiled at him. "Sounds like we have a busy weekend ahead of us. It'll be nice to see Joyce again - I've missed her."

Murray stood and held me to him. "Yeah. But first, we have alfredo."

He hovered close by as he handed me all of the things to make it. It was a dish I took pride in, because Murray enjoyed it so much - and really only enjoyed the way I made it.

"Sorry, I forgot we don't have the actual Alfredo pasta so we just have bow tie." I mumbled gently.

He kissed the top of my head, my back flush with his chest. "That's alright, love. Pasta is pasta."

This time, we sat at the table and ate, while he filled me in on everything that the phone call had entailed.

"Okay - I think we can have ourselves up and packed and out the door by 9:30, that should put us at about 11:30 when we arrive there. We'll have to adjust to the time change, of course, but I think..." I was interrupted with Murray's lips on mine.

"You know something - you're just darn cute when you get focused. But I do see your point, and I agree. Up and out the door by 9:30."

I smiled. "Which means, we can't stay up late playing Uno or watching The Muppet Movie."

He grumbled slightly at this, taking my left hand in his, playing lightly with the ring. "As frustrated as that makes me, you're right." Our eyes met. "I'm sorry, this weekend was supposed to be about you."

I gave his hand a little squeeze. "Murray, it's alright. We help Joyce, we can come back home. It looks like you've gotten out of watching the Muppets once again." I smirked.

He chuckled. "You make a good point there, Mrs. Bauman." Murray paused at this. "Damn it."

"What?"

"Oh, sorry; don't be worried, lover. Nothings wrong, I was just realizing we'll have to postpone any sort of wedding till later and not just elope like I had been planning."

I tilted my head, smiling facetiously. "Oh? We were planning on eloping, now were we?"

Murray set his fork down, pulling his chair closer to mine as his arms came around me. "Yeah. And then we're going to board a plane to somewhere exotic for a week because heaven knows we don't have to be in our twenties to have a proper honeymoon." His lips met mine, hungrily pulling me closer to him. This went on for a few minutes, until we pulled apart at the ringing of the telephone. He rolled his eyes, smiling when I laughed at his reaction.

He stood up and answered it, and I tried for only a few moments to decipher who it was.

"Mom. Do you need something? I'm just finishing up dinner... you want to do what? I can't just..." he looked to me, motioning to come over where he was. "She's here, yes."

I put my hands on his sides, leaning into his touch.

"No, Mom. I'm not... I've just... you know what, I'll just let you talk to her and she can answer your question." Murray handed me the phone, and I raised my eyebrows at him, making him chuckle as he leaned close enough to hear the call.

"Hello, Mrs... I'm sorry, could you repeat that question for me?"

"Has my son asked you to marry him yet?"

I stayed silent for a moment, looking up at Murray as he just smirked, slightly shrugging his shoulders in response.

"It's funny you mention that, actually. He just asked me last night and we made it official."

"Oh, good! I have been telling him that he needs to ask you ever since he brought you over for the first time four years ago for Christmas. It's about time he did something."

Murray laughed, my lips meeting with his.

"So when's the wedding?"

Murray took the phone from me at this point. "I don't know, Mom. We have a trip we're going on tomorrow so it will have to at least be after that."

"Murray Bauman. You had better tell me when it's happening so I can fly out to be there. I don't want you doing any of that eloping that kids your age are doing nowadays."

"Mom, we're not kids. We will do whatever we..." I took the phone from him, which sent him into shock.

"We will make sure to give you a call, Mrs. Bauman. I wouldn't want you to miss it for the world."

"Thank you, (Y/N). That's very sweet of you." At this remark, I handed the phone back to Murray.

"Is there anything else you need, Mom? No? Okay then, talk to you soon, bye."

Murray set the phone in its spot on the wall, and sighed, gently touching his forehead to mine. "We got lucky that we got out so soon - she would have talked our ears off. Which would have been quite unfortunate, because your ears are adorable."

I laughed, nudging my nose against his. "We should get to bed. Maybe we can leave a little earlier."

He hummed, pressing his lips to mine. "I suppose we could."

We ended up playing a few rounds of Uno, and then went to bed.

——————

Around 8:30, the alarm went off. Murray reached over me with his arm and hit snooze, and we snuggled closer together for a moment.

"Murray, we need to get up so we can help Joyce."

He mumbled, pressing his lips to my neck.

"Murray, love..."

"Maybe we can just call and say we're sick."

"Or you can just catch up on sleep when we get on the plane."

He hummed, slowly extracting himself to his edge of the bed. I sat up and crawled to hug him from behind. We remained this way for a few minutes, and he sighed.

"Alright. Let's get this show on the road."

As we had planned, we were packed and out the door to the airport by 9, then on the plane by 9:30.

Murray put the blanket over the two of us and moved the armrests so his hand could rest on my leg. We fell asleep, and were only awoken when they announced we were getting ready to land.

He held my hand all the way through the airport, through baggage claim, and up until we got to the taxi. He opened the door for me, and went to go put the luggage in the trunk. After doing that, he got into the cab, putting the same protective hand on my leg.

"Alright let's go, this is life or death, snap snap!"

The taxi ride was short, probably mostly because he spent most of it gazing into my eyes and trying to make me blush as much as he possibly could.

We arrived at Joyce's house, we paid the driver and he again opened the door for me, collected our luggage and made our way to the front door.

Joyce opened it when we knocked, and she about screamed with elation.

"(Y/N)! It's so good to see you!" She said as she hugged me.

The last time Joyce and I had seen each other was when she and Hopper had come with the Russian scientist to our house. I knew she had quite a rough time with Hoppers death and moving a few states over, and I could tell there was something going on, but I didn't press that quite yet.

"Hey Murray, it's good to see you too. Thank you guys for coming, you have no idea how much I appreciate it." She invited us in, and led us to the guest room.

"Sorry it's not much, I did what I could."

"No, Joyce. This is wonderful. Thank you." I said as Murray put our bag down. Joyce took my hands in hers, and brushed against the ring.

"Oh. My. Gosh. Don't tell me you guys got engaged and you didn't even tell me!" She looked at Murray, and he put his hands up in defense.

"Hey, I was trying to help you figure out the doll situation, I didn't have time to mention us."

She laughed, taking a good look at my ring. "It's so pretty - I'm so happy for you two!!"

"Thanks Joyce, we're excited too." I smiled as Murray kissed the top of my head, taking me into his side.

"So where's this ominous note you told me about?" Murray asked.

We went downstairs, and Joyce handed him the note. The next few hours were spent discussing the note, what to do with the note, and deciding to call the number. Murray set up his equipment, and Joyce had the conversation with whoever it was. He gave instructions, and hung up. We discussed plans and what to do, and they decided to go to Russia.

Joyce went out to get groceries for the boys and El while she'd be gone, and Murray started making risotto.

I found the apron Joyce had mentioned we could use, and tied it around Murray. I hugged him from behind, resting my head against his back as he cut shallots and mushrooms and bacon.

"...you wanna talk about it?" Murray asked, and started moving some of the chopped food into a bowl.

"I wish I could go with you. But I know I can't."

Murray sighed softly. He had finished the knife work, and moved towards the sink as I stayed across the kitchen for a moment. He washed his hands, then making his way back to where I was.

"I know, lover. I'm sorry. But I need to keep you safe. It's my top priority."

I nodded, and he cupped my face in his hands.

"(Y/N), please, look at me."

I made eye contact, and those darn traitor tears made their way down my cheek and Murray pulled me into him and held me tight, burying his face in my hair. "I promise I will make it home to you."

"You'd better. Or I'm going to find you, and kick your ass all the way back home for you." This had us both chuckling, and he pulled away just enough to touch our foreheads together.

"As soon as I get back, we plan the wedding. As small as we can get it. I'm not waiting any longer."

I nodded slightly, meeting his lips in the middle as he pulled me closer to him.

Soon enough, a car pulled into the driveway and we pulled apart, Murray giving me the classic smirk as he began to actually begin the risotto.

Joyce came back in, and we made a salad and cut the rolls she had bought from the store in half. Soon enough, everything was made, the salmon was finishing in the oven, and the risotto was in its final stages as the kids came back home.

One could practically feel the tension emanating from the younger 3, but Jonathan and his friend seemed almost virtually untouched by whatever it was.

We sat down at the table and had dinner with the Byers clan, and the kids took the news about as well as we had assumed - even though they really had no idea that it wasn't a conference.

I leaned into Murray as the older two cleared the plates and did the dishes.

He chuckled, putting his forehead against the top of my temple. "You seem to be ready for bed, my love."

I hummed, yawning.

"Let's get to bed. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

I walked up the stairs with Murray's arm around me, and made it into the bedroom staggering a little bit as I struggled to stay awake. We both got into our night clothes.

"I'll let you sleep in tomorrow morning, I'll have to get up and go early."

"No, Mur, please, wake me up when you do. I want to see you off."

He walked over and kissed my forehead, helping me get my second arm through my shirt. "Alright, lover. I'll get you up with me."

We climbed into bed, snuggling up next to each other, and I drifted off to sleep.

After what felt like only a few hours, Murray's alarm went off, and I snuggled into him as he turned it off.

"Morning, love."

I yawned in response.

Murray got up and took his clothes into the bathroom, getting changed and coming back out to begin to put just his things in a separate duffle bag Joyce had leant him.

He went and stood in front of the bathroom mirror, looking at his beard. I got up and sat on the counter, watching him intently.

"I'm considering shaving before we go, you know, to try and be less conspicuous. What do you think?" He stepped in between my swinging legs, and I intertwined my fingers in his beard.

"I think I'd miss it."

He smiled, touching our foreheads together.

Joyce's voice came from outside the bedroom door just a few feet away, asking if Murray was ready to go.

"Yeah, Joyce. I'll be right down." He said, kissing me once.

"See you in a few days, Bald Eagle. Take care of yourself."

He playfully rolled his eyes, smiling wider than before as his cheeks heated. "You take care of yourself, lover. I'll be back soon." Murray kissed my forehead, leaving the room with my hand in his.

They got in the taxi, and I stood on the cement and watched them go, already counting down the moments to their safe return.

Within just a few days, everything would be turned upside down.

It all started with El getting taken by the police. I had been her emotional support after what had happened at the skating rink, and considered being there for her my mission while we waited. But soon, she was gone and two men were watching us on house arrest - even though over half of us were adults.

This is where things really began to go downhill.

I was sitting in the basement with the boys, coming up with a plan to get out, when there were gunshots.

I jumped, clutching the strap of my duffel I had slung around my back. The feeling of danger and eminent disaster was tangible and hung in the air like smog.

I attempted to calm my breathing, and hid in the closet as the boys then went out the bedroom door after someone broke the window and followed the agent through the house. I checked for any more intruders, and noticed the attention was all at the front of the house. I took the opportunity to get out the broken back window, jumping the fences for what felt like forever. Finally giving up where I felt like would be far enough away, I slumped against the fence of someone's backyard.

I began to catch my breath, and realized how upsetting this all was. I had just seen blood and death in that house, I didn't have any way to contact the boys, we didn't know where El was, and Murray and Joyce were still up north.

Almost immediately, the tear ducts began to do their work to attempt to process what had just happened. I curled up, forehead to my knees and cried.

A little old lady came out her back door with a golden retriever at her heels. I didn't hear them at first, until I felt the dog licking my arm.

"Hello dear, are you alright?" I looked up into the eyes of this sweet woman, and cried more, shaking my head.

She put a gentle hand on my shoulder, and offered to take me inside, to which I nodded and walked with her into the house.

The door opened and she told me to take a seat on the couch, and that she'd be back with tea.

The dog sat in front of me, resting it's head on my lap. It calmed me considerably, and soon, the lady was back with tea.

We had a nice chat, and I learned her name was Della. She told me about her family and about the dog - who I learned was called Bear.

I smiled as she finished. "I suppose you're wondering why I ended up in your backyard."

She put a reassuring hand on my knee. "I'm sure there's a good reason, but I understand how lovers quarrels work, dear." She motioned to the duffel on the back rug.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "It wasn't a lovers quarrel, actually. My fiancé is in Alaska on a business trip."

"Crazy in-laws? I've had that one before too."

Before I went to say no again, I realized the actual answer would freak her out and most likely put her in danger, so I decided a lie would be best.

I nodded. "I mean, his parents aren't crazy, it's his extended family that is." This statement was true - I had met his extended family just a few select times and they were absolutely bonkers. "We were playing a game of cops and robbers, and they get really intense so I had to get away as fast as I could, you know. We'd been playing games all week at home because they won't let us leave the house, so I had planned to get away when this game came up. They found out I was going to try and leave and were threatening me with all sorts of things. I'm so sorry for intruding."

"It's no issue, dear. Bear and I love having company over. Besides, family drama is a perfect reason to get away."

She then insisted I stay with her at least for a few days, to "let the waters cool", as she put it. I tried to protest, but decided it was a good idea to take a few days to process it all.

From there, she made me chicken pot pie, that she claimed was "the cure to any ailment of the dramatic kind", and she was 100% correct. She later wrote the recipe down on a card for me, and snuck it into my duffel bag.

We then made chocolate chip cookies together, and when I mentioned the possibility of going home the next day, she piled the majority of said cookies in a Tupperware and told me I had to take them with me.

That night was the first I had slept decently since Murray and Joyce had left. Besides, the dog snuggled up with me and kept me calm. I think he could sense how anxious I had been, which I appreciated.

Despite thinking about leaving on Tuesday, I ended up making the decision to stay till Friday - I knew Murray would call me if he was home before then, but knowing that things most likely wouldn't go exactly to plan, and being fearful of returning home alone - with the anxiety that the government would know who I was and where I lived - I stayed till Friday.

I learned how to embroider - another set of things Della decided to send me home with. We spent time outside in the garden, did lots of embroidering, and by the time I had planned to go home, she knew practically everything about Murray and insisted on getting an invitation to the wedding. I chuckled, knowing Murray wouldn't overly love that we couldn't just hurry up and make it official, but I knew he'd understand eventually.

The days went by so slowly, but Friday arrived and I was sad to go, but excited to get home.

Della called the taxi service for me and everything, and I hugged her on my way out the door, promising to send that invitation when we made them.

The flight home wasn't too crazy, and I felt more relief than anything when the taxi pulled in front of the house.

I used the spare key and entered, almost having a little panic attack because I was afraid it would be shot up like Joyce's house. But there wasn't the lingering smell of gunpowder, and everything was in its proper place.

I closed the door gently behind me, and took a deep breath. I felt safe again, and now I was just worried about Murray coming home safe - and Joyce and Hopper, too.

Friday night was spent alone - doing laundry and turning on a rerun of some show. I put the dishes away and made popcorn - I really didn't feel like doing a whole lot until I was sure Murray was safe.

Saturday, I woke up on the couch, and realized I had fallen asleep watching television. I hadn't wanted to move to the bed anyways - it wasn't ever the same when Murray was gone.

Around 4, I was turning the television set back on, and getting ready to think about making something to eat, and sat on the kitchen counter with some recipe cards.

The door handle was suddenly being unlocked, and I froze. I turned to see the door as it opened.

Before I saw anything, his voice was there. "(Y/N)? Are you home, lover?" He rounded the corner and closed the door, stopping when he saw me.

I gently smiled. It had taken my brain a second longer to process it was him because his beard was gone, but it was Murray alright.

He was home.

I almost couldn't believe we were both back home, after all that had just happened, and I think he felt the same, because we stared at each other for some time.

Murray made some very quick steps across the kitchen to stand between my swinging legs - almost the same way he had left me about a week ago - and I cupped his roughly shaven face between my hands as he leaned into them.

He touched our foreheads together, and I closed my eyes, just taking a moment to breathe him in as his arms came around me.

Our lips soon met, in a hungry attempt to be close to each other.

Barely remembering to breathe, we broke apart, foreheads still touching as we smiled.

"I thought you weren't going to shave your beard." I chuckled, making him laugh.

"It's a long story, lover. Can you still love me and my half shaven face?"

I gently ran my fingers through his hair. "Yes, Murray. I can."

"The boys called and told Joyce what had happened - are you okay?"

I pulled him closer, into a tight hug that he understood. I didn't feel like going into detail, but Murray knew that.

"I'm glad you're safe." He said, kissing my shoulder as he nuzzled back into it.

"I'm glad you're safe too, Mur."

There was a few more minutes of silence, until Murray pulled apart again.

"I'm going to go unpack - and then we are going to relax and ignore any phone calls that come in whatsoev..."

At this, the phone rang, and I chuckled. Murray rolled his eyes, picking it up to answer it.

"It's only because I said something... hey, I'm a little busy right now... Mom, nice to hear from you." He stepped back to where he was, and I put my arms around him with my ear to his chest as his free arm came around my back. His hand soothingly ran the length of my spine as he continued to talk.

"Yes, I recognize it's the time specified that you could call. No, we haven't been ignoring your calls - we just got back from that trip I told you about." At this remark, he kissed the top of my head. "We haven't had time to start any wedding planning, but we will keep you in the loop as we do, I promise... no, it's not a half promise it's... mom, I haven't been drinking, and yes I'll remember. Good gravy, woman."

I smiled. Even though the world was literally on its way to falling apart with Hawkins as the epicenter, maybe we could have a touch of normalcy in the midst of it.

"Mom, I'm being completely serious, I... yes, she's here. You want to talk to her? Alright then." Murray handed me the phone, and put his other arm around me to fully embrace me against him.

"(Y/N), you make sure he keeps that promise. I trust that boy, but I trust you with things like this more."

I chuckled. "Yes, Mrs. Bauman. I'll make sure he does."

We said goodbye, and I put the phone on the counter. It stayed this way for a few minutes, until Murray spoke up.

"I'm going to unpack - and then we really will ignore phone calls. I'm done talking to people - with you as the exception, of course."

I nodded, kissing his cheek. "I'll be on the couch. I'm sure there's something on we can watch."

He kissed my forehead, and helped me off the counter before he went upstairs to unpack and I assumed, to then start laundry.

My ears almost seemed to flinch a little when I heard the dresser drawer open. I knew we really just needed to sand it down, but a new dresser would eventually be in order anyways. I heard Murray curse under his breath, and smiled as his voice came from upstairs.

"Hey lover, how would you like to go buy a new dresser in lieu of making dinner?"

---

previous part - 500 Miles ♡ next part - TBD

#travelin man #the long way home part 3 #murray bauman #murray bauman x reader #murray x reader #x reader #reader insert #stranger things #oneshot #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things season 4 #fem reader #the long way home series #series #part 3

[peridotlionheart]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Murray Bauman/Original Female Character(s), Argyle & Original Female Character(s) Characters: Original Female Character(s) of Color, Original Female Character(s), Murray Bauman, Argyle (Stranger Things), Argyle's Parents (Stranger Things) Additional Tags: Those Two Missing Days, Wouldn't Argyle's Family Be Wondering Where He Is?, pov switching, Discussion of Racial Slurs, Big Sisters, Post-Season/Series 04, Eventual Romance, The Grumpy One is Soft For the Sunshine One, quarantining Summary:

When Argyle disappears during his shift at Surfer Boy Pizza, his big sister Paisley is determined to find him. Her biggest lead is Murray, an eccentric Private Investigator. While helping her find her brother, he also awakens feelings she thought she long buried.

Listen! It took forever to finish chapter two. Been working on it for a while. 

#murray bauman #stranger things fanfiction #murray bauman fanfiction #argyle fanfiction #murray bauman x ofc #argyle #stranger things

[sheisjoeschateau]

"Oh, so we DO love Steve... | PART V

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: tw - major character death (?), attempted CPR, screaming, crying, strong language, trauma (so much f*cking trauma), regrets. 18+

***

When Steve watched you tumble off of the wall and down to the ground, he felt his entire world stop spinning. 

It was as if he could literally see the surge of electricity that coursed through your veins, grappling onto your body before it repelled you off the fence.

You fell, landing flat on your back, and Steve knew that if you’d had any air left in your lungs that the fall alone had knocked the wind out of you.

And Steve felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. Crouched at the top, just watching the nightmare unfold in front of his eyes.

“BAUMAN!!!!”

The scream that ripped from Steve’s lungs scared him more than he already was.

Jonathan, Eddie and Dustin all shouted your name in response. They rushed over to your body. Your way-too-still body.  

Everyone completely freaked. Steve kept cursing and shouting, knees pressing into the concrete underneath where he was hunched over and gripping the edge. Every inch of him was shaking and ready to pounce off the top of that wall onto the ground.  The walkie-talkie was going off still, and that only heightened everyone’s senses that were already in override.

Jonathan knew what Steve was debating, as he got closer to the ledge.  “Steve, don’t move —”

“Fuck, FUCK.”

“DO NOT MOVE.”

“BAUMAN — ”

“STAY UP THERE. The box got — fuck, it got switched, fuck!” 

Jonathan was frenzied.  Sheer panic brought his voice up several octaves, to where he was just shrieking. 

Eddie was almost shell-shocked next to Dustin, who was the most frightened that any of the guys had ever seen the kid.  He clutched the walkie-talkie as it kept blasting off with Murray’s voice, shaking.

“Jonathan…” Dustin’s voice sounded so small, so terrified. Like he was suddenly six years old again. 

Eddie went from reaching for you, to reaching out to Dustin.  He was so conflicted, needing to help and not knowing how.  The metalhead stuttered unintelligible words of fear.

And up on the ledge still, Steve raked his hands through his hair, throwing his head back to groan more curses to the sky. 

This was hell.  Absolute hell. 

Here he was, stuck at the top, unable to do anything. Steve frivolously paced, tugging at his hair until the scalp burned.

“Group 2 to Group 4, do you copy?”

Steve felt bile rise up in his throat watching Jonathan’s fingers graze your neck, searching for a pulse.  When it wasn’t there, he reached for your wrist.  No sign of life… Jonathan looked sick. Turning to Eddie, who was staring at him — pale as a ghost — Jonathan’s voice shook. 

“Lift her head,” Steve heard Jonathan croak.  He was positioning himself over you, straightening you out on your back. He took his hands, pressing them to your chest.

Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck, fuck, God no, please no. Steve heard himself saying it in his head, over and over. But when Eddie looked up at him, his eyes heartbroken, Steve realized it wasn’t in his head. Steve was saying it out loud.

“Group 4, this is group 2 – do you copy????”

Jonathan was telling Dustin, in as calm a voice as he could muster, how to help.  And Dustin looked up at Steve, whimpering for him.  But seeing his older brother-slash-mother-like figure at the top in complete dismay only made him want to cry more.  Dustin was scared, he was so scared… Jonathan brought him back to focus. 

“Hey, hey," Jonathan spoke to him gently, shakily. "Look at me.  Look at me.  Help me, alright?”

But Jonathan’s trembling voice was not reassuring at all.  Dustin followed his lead, though. He kept his hands cupped underneath your head, your hair pooled around yourself on the ground.

Steve got a grip on himself for all of two seconds.  Enough to at least speak to his kid, voice wrecked and his words rushed. 

“Dustin, h-hang in there, kid, alright?  It's okay. S'okay. Jonathan – y-you know CPR, yeah?” 

Jonathan fervently nodded his head, getting to work.

The walkie-talkie was a chaotic clusterfuck of voices, begging for an answer.  Murray.  Erica.  Hopper.  Eleven.  Lucas. 

Eddie lost it, grabbing it from the ground and biting back a scream before he tried to tell them, not knowing how — “C-code red, code red, we — we . . .”

Your eyelids – glued shut – made Steve’s open eyes burn. Your lifeless chest, no sign of air, made the sound of his own breathing sound so loud it was jarring.  He couldn’t breathe.  He still had fucking oxygen in his lungs, yet he couldn’t breathe. 

Steve just kept murmuring your name into his fist.  His voice was low and unintelligible, as if he was speaking some twisted prayer out loud while he paced back and forth. He felt acid pricking at his eyes, blurring his vision. Steve swiped at my face, roughly rubbing his palm down his from forehead to chin.

Steve bit at his own cheek, willing the trembling to stop. Stop, damn it. Don’t make this real. It’s not real.

“God damn it,” Jonathan muttered.

“Keep going,” Steve barked down at Wheeler.  It was meant to be a command but Steve’s voice was thick with emotion and he hated it.  He watched every chest compression and every puff of air exhaled into your mouth and over your lips, wishing to God that it was his own lips crushing against yours. Because if it were him, he would give you no choice. You were stubborn as fuck, and no one needed to be easy on you. That wouldn’t work.

Murray was going berserk on the other side of the walkie, and so was Hopper. 

“Where the hell is my niece, what’s going on?!?!”

Eddie was on the verge of a full blown panic attack, trying to get a word out and explain.  For the love of God, how could he explain???

Dustin glanced up at Steve, and that was the worst thing he could’ve done. He was crying. Steve’s kid was fucking crying.

Fuck, this was real.

Steve’s body had never violently convulsed with shakes like this his entire life.  Not when he first saw the demogorgon.  Not when he came face to face with the demodogs.  And not even in the Russian torture chamber. 

He wanted to sob – but hell no, he couldn’t let himself. Not yet. Not fucking yet.

So Steve bit his cheek until he tasted blood, lips tightly curled over his gritted teeth, frantically pacing with his arms crossed and fingernails digging into his elbows even through his shirt.

When Jonathan sighed, exasperated, Steve was suddenly screaming at Jonathan. He didn’t even register it until it was happening. Wheeler shouted back, a storm of words tearing them both at the seams. Wheeler never overreacted. He never shouted unless it was a joke.

But this wasn’t a joke. It was real.

And the distraught anger that boiled inside of Steve was evident as he shrieked back at Jonathan and Eddie below out of sheer disdain towards them for being down there with you instead of himself. It wasn’t even their fault. It was nobody’s fault, and somehow that made it worse. Because it meant that Steve had no one to blame.

So, he blamed God. A god that he wasn’t sure he even believed in.

Eddie finally flipped his shit, screeching into the walkie-talkie.  The trees.  The world.  “She’s.  Not.  Breathing!!!!!!  The fence turned on too soon!!!!”

“Murray, turn it back now!” Steve cried out. 

“Steve’s stuck up top, he needs down here!  He’s a lifeguard, Erica, help!”  Dustin’s cries were heart wrenching.

Erica came onto the line.  “I’m on it, Steve, hang on!” 

After another agonizing 15 seconds, Murray said it was clear — his voice cracking. 

Eddie flung his bat at the fence.  No electricity. 

Steve hurled himself down the wall.

Flinging himself to the ground, Steve could feel himself begin to hyperventilate again as he looked over your pale face up close. Your full lips were no longer that tempting shade of rose pink.

They were blue.

So, Steve moved fast – straddling you and thinking back to lifeguard training a few summers ago. One of the few things I’d done right in high school was learning CPR.  He locked his knuckles against your chest, starting compressions while ordering Jonathan to keep doing mouth to mouth.

“How long has it been...” Steve’s question sounded like a statement, muttered through his actions.

“Over three minutes,” Eddie spoke, his voice also shaking. Then he mumbled, “...if not longer.”

Steve’s stomach churned. He grit his teeth, jaw clenched, forcing the next round of sobs back down his throat.  Your name was choked on his lips, mixed with vulgar curses muttered under his breath.  Your lips were still parted from the attempted resuscitation, and your eyelids were beginning to peak open. But your lively irises were trapped behind her hooded eyelids, dead and unmoving, and the thought of not seeing them ever again fucking wrecked Steve.

One, two, three.   “C’mon, Bauman.”   Four, five, six, breath.  “Bauman, c’mon —”

Steve’s arms began to burn as he frivolously tried to pump life back into your slender frame.

God, I hate her, Steve thought.  I fucking hate her.

Of course it would be her that this happened to. Of fucking course. Not me. Because that would be too easy. Then she would keep so stupid fucking calm, like she always is in situations that infuriate me. She would keep herself together. Her stubborn attitude would keep her emotions at bay. Because God forbid she be visibly scared. She had to be the goddamn hero. Because she is perfect. Impossibly perfect.

So fucking perfect.

“Bauman, cmon, please,” Steve pleaded.

“YOU GUYS, TALK TO US.  WHAT’S HAPPENING?”  Robin sounded panicked over the walkie. 

Eddie didn’t even know how to answer.  He just stared, helplessly.

Steve’s shoulders slumped, and he felt the stupid tears that sloped down his face and onto his trembling lips. He tasted the salt, the bitterness making him want to curl up and die. He'd never felt this sick in my life. He never wanted to feel it again.

But he would feel it ten times worse if this is how it was gonna end.

If Steve was never gonna see another day with the niece of Murray fucking Bauman bothering the ever-living shit out of him, then his world was just going be dull again.

Funny how he once thought that’s how he’d preferred it. The world in which you didn’t exist. Steve had raved to you about it, day after day. About how much better his life would have been in that world if you had simply never come into the picture. How much happier he would be, because you wouldn't have been around to ruin it. You would simply cease to exist, and all would be right in the world.

Now he had spoken it into fucking existence. And if there was ever a regret that Steve Harrington had in his life, it was having ever thought for a second that it was what he actually wanted. He would rather be forced to rewatch all his days as King Steve and watch everything horrible that he did and bitterly regretted now, if it meant avoiding this.

Because now, all he wanted was you.

God, please, let me keep her...

Jonathan stopped giving mouth to mouth, heaving for air. Dustin looked at him in pure horror, and for the first time ever I saw Eddie look more terrified than the kid.

“Jonathan,” Dustin croaked.

“Whoa whoa, w-what —” Eddie stuttered.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop.”  Steve screamed.

Steve sounded like a strangled animal, growling at Jonathan — who now just wept and wept, overwhelmed.  He tearfully argued back with Steve, voice booming and defeatedly saying something about how it’s not working. Something about it being too late. And Steve wanted to punch him square in the face. 

On top of that, the walkie-talkie kept blasting off in Eddie’s hands with everyone’s voices.  Mainly Murray, who was demanding information, screaming —

“Someone tell me what’s going on with my niece right now!!!!!!!!”

Eddie stuttered something to Wheeler, moving to take his place. Wheeler obeyed, moving aside.

Steve swapped with Eddie, giving you mouth to mouth while he pumped your chest.  Jonathan murmured into the walkie, all stuttered and shaky, something about them trying.  Still trying.

And all the while, Steve kept murmuring your name while blowing air into your lungs, and it sounded like a broken prayer on his tongue. Eddie was openly crying at this point, his tears silent but his motions panicked as he continued pumping your chest while Steve willed life back into your airways.

Dustin was whimpering like a child, petrified.  Jonathan held him, winded and freaked.

Another minute ticked by, and you still weren't breathing...

Don’t leave me here, Steve begged you in his head.

Lips, air. Breathe, breath, breath.

Don’t fucking leave me here.

Chest compressions.  Pump, pump, pump.

I don’t know how to be without you anymore. You ruined that world for me. That world is gone. I don’t want it back, don’t fucking let me go back there.

Steve was ready to throw himself into that electric fence, and escape the world he had created for himself with his own ignorance.

And then he saw your eyes scrunch. 

Your face moved.

Steve’s breath hitched as he saw your hand twitch. 

“Bauman. . . ”

He barely breathed your last name, almost afraid to say it again. As if that would make you disappear again.

The most guttural cough escaped from your throat, sending you into a choking fit before it began to level out. All the while, Steve watched life color your face again.  Your eyes tried to focus, your eyelids still slightly hooded. But your chest rose and fell, air finally filling your lungs.

Steve felt as if someone had revived him. A rush of air escaped his mouth, his shoulders sagging as he let the overwhelming sensation of relief rattle his bones through body-wracking sobs. “Fuck…”

Steve immediately sought your touch, his hands on your face as his fingers grazed your jaw and your neck.

Eddie choked on a sigh of own relief as he distanced himself to let Steve straddle you. 

“Don’t…touch the fence,” you murmured, your voice small and strained as you caught your breath.

Fucking hell.  Even now, just barely back to life, you're cracking a joke.

Steve laughed hard.  So hard, incredulously. Kinda hysterical. He watched tears splash down onto your cheeks, realizing that they were his own. But Steve didn’t give a fuck how pathetic he looked as he crushed his lips against yours and cried while doing it. He was completely on top of you at this point, caging you with his legs and arms. His elbows dug into the earth beneath you both, one hand brushing your hair off your forehead and the other grazing your shoulder. And your collarbone. And the soft divot of your neck. Steve just had to touch you. He had to feel you moving, to assure himself that you were really alive again.

“Y-you,” Steve stuttered. “You were dead. Your heart. Stopped.”

His choked words hung in the air, desperate and broken. Haunted by the memory that had just been his reality not even a minute ago.

Your eyes opened a bit more, softly glazed over and searching his own. Your heart seized, seeing the tearful anguish in Steve’s eyes up above you.  You wanted to take it away from him, never wanting to be the source of his sadness.

Your hand slowly reached for his, taking his wrist and pressing his palm to your chest.

“S’okay, Harrington,” you sighed. “S’working now.”  Thump, thump, thump.

You watched as Steve clenched his eyes shut, gnawing his lip and whimpering unabashedly at your heartbeat that drummed under his touch.

Fuck’s sake, he thought. Of course she is comforting me. She just died, and yet here she is – comforting me.

God, you were insufferable. Steve fucking hated it. He hated you. He hated you so much.

So fucking much…

Steve buried his face into the crook of your neck, nose pressed to your skin as he wept freely. You held his hand to your chest while his other arm wound up around your head.

“Hate you,” Steve weakly mumbled against your neck. All anguish, no heat. “Fucking hate you.”

You could only sigh, just staying there, letting the soft sounds of your breathing against Steve’s ear ground him again.  Whether it was seconds, minutes, or hours that passed, you didn’t know.  Didn’t care.

And no one else said anything.  The boys fell silent.  Completely silent.  Watching in disbelief.  So much had just happened, revealing so much more at the same time…

The walkie-talkie squawked again.  All channels were tapped in.  Joyce, your uncle’s crackly voice, and Hopper.

“Someone give me fucking update,” your uncle demanded over the walkie in a wobbly, distressed voice.  “Kids, c’mon. What’s happening?”  …even Hopper sounded emotional. “Please, please tell us she’s alright,” Joyce’s sweet voice was full of tears.

Eddie jumped at all the voices.  He sniffled, remembering he needed to answer.  Through his own tears, he told them, “G-group 4, w-we… we got her. Steve’s got her, sh-she’s breathing… She’s alright.”

As Lucas came back through the channel — “Oh thank God” — they could hear Murray in the background sounding like an uncharacteristically relieved mess.

Somehow, Steve pulled himself away from you. He looked down at you, swiping his elbow across his nose hastily. So much snot. Not that you minded, or even noticed. Your eyes were closed again, fluttering exhaustedly.

“Do you wanna,” Steve hiccuped, still stuttering. “Wanna — s-stand up?”

You gave a weak nod and managed to feebly peel your eyelids back open. Steve leaned back on his knees, ready to help you stand.

Jonathan was right behind you, arms slipping underneath your shoulder blades to help lift you off the ground. Steve clasped his hands in yours, pulling you to him after he’d risen to his own feet. You stood too, your footing wobbly and weak. Steve let you lean into him, one arm snaking around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. His left hand gripped the back of your neck, balancing you. Balancing both of you. He kept murmuring a series of little I got you’s, repeatedly saying it was all okay in a hushed tone only meant for you.

Steve finally glanced up to look at the others.

Dustin was a quiet, relieved mess. He looked shaken to the core, glancing from Babe Bauman in Steve’s arms to Steve himself. He trembled, hugging himself. Eddie quickly moved to comfort him, wrapping a tight arm around him as he bit back his own tears. Steve made a mental note that he would undoubtedly thank him for that later. Jonathan looked at Steve with more empathy than he ever thought him capable of radiating in his direction. The oldest Wheeler looked exhausted yet wired at the same time, and Steve caught the sight of his bottom lip trembling before he looked away. 

In spite of the relief, all three of them were asking themselves the same question: how long has something with these two been going on?

Steve suddenly felt seen for all that he was.  Fragile, underneath his cocky bravado.  He felt like a sham, who only pretended to not be emotionally affected by anything.  He felt like deep down, he was still that prick from high school, who didn’t know what he had until it was taken away from him.  Only then did he learn, right?  Only after he was made to face the hell he had created for himself, was he able to finally see the mistakes that he’d made and wanna make them right. It happened with Nancy. It happened with school. It happened with Max and how he failed her as a brother (or mother, according to the kids). When was he ever gonna learn…

Steve could feel everyone’s eyes on him.  Him, and you.  He knew that the three guys were watching, and that they’d all seen him fall apart completely.  The two of you were definitely found out now — no going back.  But Steve didn’t even care.  He couldn’t now. 

Without any control over himself, Steve shamefully sought comfort and privacy by adjusting himself in your arms.  His girl.  He buried his face into your shoulder, clinging to you desperately and trembling. 

And you melted. Your head was fuzzy and everything hurt, so you couldn’t really focus on much that was happening the way that Steve could. But all that mattered to you right now was him, as he held you like he’d lose you all over again unless he did, his breathy cries rattling his bones.  You cradled his head against your shoulder, softly murmuring to him that it’s alright, it’s okay.

Sometimes, Steve would find himself smiling in your embrace, despite the anguish as he couldn’t stop mentally reliving what had just happened.  He had to forget it.  You were here.  You weren’t gone.

He got to keep you.

He’s going to keep you.

Even if it fucking kills him.

***

thank you guys :') I know this chapter stretched out an already stressful situation but it needed to drive the point home: Steve's hatred has transitioned into love.

tag list: @erastourvip @get0ut0fmyr00m @xprloki @eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00 @poppet05 @wiltedflowersundertowers @originalthingparadise @pleuviors @pumpkinonice @ihaveproblemsihaveproblems @brinleighsstuff

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #murray bauman #eddie munson #dustin henderson #rockstar eddie munson #enemies to lovers trope

[whosdinkleyhenderson]

Would you us fluff prompt 17. You give me chills.” “The good kind right?” “Yes… silly the good kind.” with season 3 Steve Harrington and Hendeson!reader please?

Hi, I'm super sorry this took ages... I had a case of writer's block sadly, but hey I finally got it done :) I hope you enjoy it, I decided to use a gender netural reader. but you can change it if you like to suit your gender.

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Warnings: season 3 spoilers

Song: The Motown Song (with The Temptations) - Rod Stewart.

word count: 5863 

You sat at home, waiting. Waiting for your little brother Dustin to come home. He had been away at some camp, for smart kids, as you liked to put it. The longer you waited the more impatient you became. You had work in an hour at star court mall. The hippest book store, as Mr Baganels liked to refer to it. 

Nothing too special, the only customers being older people or some book enthusiastic’s, otherwise it was quite quiet. Funny how a quiet book store could be located in a busy - loud - mall. 

A knock at the door shattered your cloudly mind. Huffing you got up, there standing on the other side of the door, was in fact not the curly-haired teen you had been waiting for. But the ‘party’. A choir of ‘hellos’ rung through the air, raising a brow you examined each and every one of them. 

“Uh, hi?”

“We're here to see Dustin, right guys?” Max smiled, earning an excited chatter of ‘yeses’. 

“Well, I hate to break it to you… But Mr Henderson is not home. If he was i - as a matter of fact - wouldn’t be here…but I guess you can wait, saving me.” Your fake smile, not going unnoticed by the teens. 

Yes as of right now you sounded like a horrible sibling, but hey duty calls and so does money. Patting Will’s head you made your way out the door and to your car. 

“And one more thing. Don’t break anything, coz I know where you all live.” You called, before closing the door and starting the engine. 

“Well you heard them, let's trash this place…What?” Lucas’ chuckles die down the minute he came face to face with mike’s glaring stare.

“Okay, okay. Jees don’t look at me like that. You look like Nancy.” 

Sadly for Lucas that only ended up with the glare hardening. “I’ll give you ‘you look like Nancy’.”

“Here we go.” 

Rounding the corner you could see the bright sign of the star court mall and the hundreds of people entering and exiting. Pulling into your usually spot you notice a particular maroon BMW. Steve Harrington’s car was parked beside you. It’s as if fate itself was out to get you. Palms sweaty, you nervously wiped them on your bare legs, you would usually wear jeans, but it was summer and you for one did not want to be sweating. Taking a calm breath, you pulled out your perfume and sprayed a few sprits on you. Neck, wrist and just the tiniest dab under your ear. Checking your mirror, you tufted your hair a bit and reapplied your mascara. Satisfied you got out of your car and made your way inside. 

“Thank you for choosing Scoops Ahoy and enjoy your ice cream.” The smile shining bright on the lips of the blonde, disappeared the minute the old lady left the store. “Old bat,” Robin muttered, slumping down on the counter. 

It had been a long day. A very long day and Steve’s consistent failed attempts at flirting with every girl that walked into the store were not helping.  

“I can’t believe she said that. I mean, two years ago I had girls throwing themselves at me. and now! None.” 

Rolling her eyes, she drained out his voice, wishing a black hole would show up and swallow her whole. She couldn’t take it anymore, the constant words. 

“Steve!”

The boy’s lips ceased and so did his voice.

“If you don’t shut the hell up, I will rip out your glorious hair…okay?” 

Silence filled the air-conditioned shop, the only noise being that of the shoppers trailing past.

“Did you just call my hair glorious?” The guy wore a teasing smile. That was it. 

“I’m going on my break. Have fun dignus.” She muttered walking out the store. 

Blending into the crowd, Robin disappeared from Steve’s sight. Puffing out some air, Steve slumped into the counter. His eyes counted the number of people who walked past. A total of fifty-three people walked by and only thirteen decided to take a look inside before walking off. 

“This has gotta be one of the most boring days of my life-” His voice ceased at the sight in front of him. As quick as it came it went. You had rushed by the store, in an attempt to make it to your job. You had been fixing your hair whilst dodging people left, right and centre. And by God, you looked amazing. A scene out of a movie. Reality slowing down just for you, and dearly did it smack Steve. Never in high school, did you take notice of the boy - well you did, but he didn’t know that - always keeping to your own group of people. Sometimes he wondered if he chose the wrong person to give his heart to. Like what would have happened if he chose you over Nancy. Would you two still be together or would you have ended in the same catastrophe that was Steve and Nancy?

~Halloween 1984~ 

Your grip tightens on Jonathan's arm. Nails digging into soft flesh. 

“Ouch. Hey! Jees Y/n…I like my arm you know.” 

“Sorry, Johnny.” You quipped, quickly pulling your hand from his arm. 

Smiling Jonathan shook his head, “It’s alright.”  

You two had unfortunately tagged along to Tina’s Halloween party of ‘84. Your friends begged you to come, so in doing so you brought along another poor unfortunate soul. Jonathan Byers.

What, he was your best friend. Of course, you would make him come. Even if he dreaded every minute of it. If you had to suffer then so did he. 

You glanced around the rowdy house, classmates dancing, drinking or making out. This definitely was not your scene, and neither was the couple standing right next to your ear. 

“Would you buzz off? Jees, a person’s ears can only take so much.” You hissed, at the two. 

Rolling their eyes, they walked off. Noticing your glare, Jonathan piped in.

“Assholes.” 

You two - more your friends - insisted on going as the cast of Back to The Future, you two winning the honour of being Doc and Marty Mcfly. 

An iconic duo, for two of Hawkin’s outcasts. That and your whole group wanted to win the best dress of 84, so the rest of the ‘cast’ of Back to The Future, was most likely wandering around the house. 

“You know we could have spent the night watching movies, right?” Jonathan muttered, giving you a slight nudge. Man, was he right? It was an annual ritual you both would do. Ever since you both learned that the fear horror movies projected were only fake, you both vowed that the whole week until Halloween you would watch every horror movie known to humankind. 

“I know, I know. I’m kicking myself… The exorcist kicks ass way better than here.” You hissed, dreading the knowing smile sitting on his face. All week long you two had worked your way up to grow the confidence to watch such a film. The horror of knowing it was supposed to be based on a true story, frightened the hell out of you. But with Jonathan’s, kind words and the constant nagging you caved in. That was till you magical got sucked into the world of teen Halloween. 

The whines of your best friend brought you back into reality. 

“This wig is making my head itchy.”  The rustling of fake plastic hair filled your ears. 

“Jonathan! Stop that you're gonna get hair everywhere.”

The teen glanced around the house, taking note of the sticky floor beneath his feet. 

“I don’t think anyone would notice. Besides how come I had to be Doc?”

Raising a brow, you stared down at the boy. “Because orange looks good on me.” You chuckled, flipping your hair. 

Watching your every move, Nancy’s eyes hardened. How come you were bright and happy? She was the one dating Steve Harrington, yet why did she yearn for what you have? 

Jonathan. 

Her hand tightened around the plastic cup, creating a cease on the surface. She needed this thought gone, no she wanted it dead. Snapping her attention away from you two, her blue eyes locked on what she yearned for. 

The punch bowl. 

Pure Fuel. 

Sensing his girlfriend’s frustration, Steve peered over at Nancy, the harsh glare sitting on her soft features. Sighing he places a hand on her wrist. 

“Hey Nance, I think you’ve had enough to drink.” 

His words did not sit well with the brunette. Groaning she tugged her wrist out of his hand, splashing her drink all over the both of them. Shocked, the two stared at each other. Her white blouse was now red. 

Oh shit. 

Steve’s eyes widened, as the glare reappeared on Nancy’s face. 

“Look what you did, Steve!” 

Pissed the girl stormed off to the where ever, probably a bathroom, within the huge house. Sensing everyone’s stares, Steve knew the whole crowd was looking at them. 

At him. 

“Great, another notch on my name.” He mumbled, flickering his hazel eyes up. He made direct eye contact with you, for a spilt second before running off to find Nancy. 

You and Jonathan had witnessed the whole scene, as other bystanders did. Steve and Nancy were in hot water. 

You watched Steve’s form disappear amongst the crowd. Frowning your brows you turned your attention back to your friend. 

“Huh?”

“I said. You think something’s going on between them?” 

Looking back, you shrugged. If so then good for them. 

“Who knows…not our problem. Now come. Dance with me Byers.” You laugh pulling Jonathan to the dance floor. 

Steve sighed as the words left Nancy's mouth. 

Bullshit. 

Their love was complete and utter bullshit. 

Great. 

“You don’t mean that.” He held back the tears, scared she would laugh if they fell. 

Her stare blank, just like her words. 

“Bullshit…it’s all. Bullshit.” 

A stab at the boy’s heart. All he wanted was someone to love him, instead, he got ‘bullshit’, just like the rest of his life. Trying to undo all the corrupt shit he pulled on people, instead got a slap back in his face. The world was against as much as Nancy was. Throwing Billy into the mix, was not only a cruel act but also a wake-up call. Showing him what he was, what he had been. To know that when he looked into the boy’s blue eyes, he saw himself.  A reflection of what he was. Who he had been. And was it a frightening sight. The fear of becoming King Steve again, knowing all those horrid things were done by him. His hands were stained, and now he was begging for them to be cleaned. 

And if this was a way of being tested to see if he was deemed worthy, then God damn he was in for a ride. 

Fed up with Steve’s silence, Nancy pulled open the door. Bumping right into Jonathan, who caught hold of the drunk girl. Looking up he met Steve’s blank stare. 

He waited. For something, for anything. For a ‘hey dude, get your hands off my girl.’ but nothing came, Steve just looked down at his hands, utter despair swirling on his face.  

“Oh shit,” Jonathan whispers causing Nancy to groan and shoved herself against him. 

“Hey Woah. Woah, let’s get you home.” With that the two left, leaving poor Steve in the bathroom. 

Sighing you looked down at your watch, Jonathan should have been back by now. Narrowing your eyes you glance up.

“How long does it take for a guy to piss.” You breathed but paused the moment your eyes locked on a tipsy Nancy and white wig. 

Bingo. 

Your legs attempt to get to work but notice the pair make their way out the door. Stunned you stood there, that asswipe was your ride home. 

So much for that. 

“What an asshole… Ride home my ass.” You hiss stepping outside. A gentle tap on the shoulder stops you from going any further. Shifting your gaze the slightest your eyes catch red-ridden warm ones. 

“Steve.” You breath. 

He offers a small smile, hiding all the hurt behind it. 

“Did you need a ride home, Henderson?” And here right now, stood your knight and shining armour. 

You smile at his words. “That would be great.” 

~Present, 1985~

You were late. Quickly pushing through the crowds of people. Elderly, adults, children and worst of all teens. 

Ugh stupid summer holidays. Don’t these kids have anywhere else better to be than a horrid air-conditioned mall? 

Pushing open the door, finally, you had made it to work. Tiptoeing in, you quietly made your way around the counter. The last time you were late, Mr Baganels made you clean up the children’s section. Let’s just say there were some things in there that definitely did not belong in a book store. 

You shudder at the mere thought. 

“Ahh, I see we snuck in.” Your co-worker, Danny sang. Snapping your head to the back door, you shushed the boy. “Oh please, shush yourself. Besides Mr Baganels is not in today… it’s just me.” 

Like a fresh breath of air, you sighed. All your nerves dying in an instant. 

Tutting the boy jumped up on top of the counter, sitting quite comfortably too. 

“I do have, something, rather interesting to tell you.” 

All ears you raised a distinct brow. “What?”

Smirking Danny turned away and began toying with you. 

“Un second thought, maybe it’s not that important… Yeah. Don’t worry.” 

Of course, he would pull this stunt, every time he had something to tell you, he would always find a way to pull your leg. You never knew why maybe for the suspense. Or just plain old cruelty. 

“Well, that’s just too bad because Nelson, came by yesterday looking for you. But I guess what he said, isn’t important either.” You tutted, picking your nails. 

Snapping his head toward you the boy stuck his face into your peripheral vision. 

“What?” 

“Can I help you?” glancing up, you held a blank stare. 

Jumping over the counter, Danny came face to face with you. 

“Hun, you better tell me what that boy said.”

Placing a hand on his chest you pushed him the slightest bit back. “Now why would I want to do that, Danny Boy?” 

You knew about Danny’s crush on Nelson the retail manager at Macy’s. Yes, there was a Macy’s at Start court mall. From the day he laid eyes on the tall man, you knew Danny was head over heels for him, well either that or he was a horny guy. But you knew he wasn’t. 

“Y/n, you know how much I like him… If I was a puppy! I would piss on the floor because of the excitement.” 

“Eww. Gross. That was way too much information.”

Rolling his eyes, the boy shushed you. “Oh hush, besides. I don’t know if he swings for my team… I mean if he didn’t all I would need is some whipped-” 

“Woah, Woah slow down. I don’t want to have that image in my head, thank you very much… And besides, he does…pretty obvious if you ask me.” 

You saw the boy’s green eyes brighten.  

“Well what did he say.”

Smiling you opened your mouth but was silenced by the sound of the shop door’s bell. 

“Oh for Christ's sake! A man is trying to find out,” Danny’s voice ceased, at an awkward Robin standing in the doorway. “Oh hey, Rob. What’s kicking, sweetie?” Danny waved. 

“Steve is such an idiot. I swear. This is the only place where I find solitude.”

Turning his head to you, Danny wore a menacing smirk. 

Grabbing a tight hold of his dress shirt you mouthed ‘no’ to him. Smacking your hand away, Danny patted the counter. 

“Come darling, tell us your troubles.”

Following suit, Robin sat on top of the counter. 

“He’s such an idiot. I mean he flirts with every girl that comes into the store, it’s so annoying and torturing. I don’t understand why he does that, I told him to come over here already. But no dignus is a…well…a dignus not too.” 

You shot your eyes to the boy next to you, who just smiled. 

That bastard. 

You gripped his shirt again. 

“I mean, I don’t know why he hasn’t grown a pair yet. I mean, he likes you and you like him.” 

You tighten your hold, causing the green-eyed boy to yelp at the harsh grip.

Robin turned and looked you dead in eye. “Y/n. You know Steve likes you. Like likes you, likes you.”

You shook your head. Where the hell was this coming from, was she on drugs? 

You tightened your grip even harder on Danny. 

“Ow, ow. Okay! ALRIGHT! Let go of me. I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you.” 

You let go of the boy’s arm. 

Quickly grabbing his own arm, Danny began rubbing it. 

“Steve came in yesterday. Horrible stuttering. By the way. Like I mean to the point where I thought he said he wanted ‘chicken soup’... anyway, he came in asking if you were working… I told him you weren’t, he looked a little hurt. If I’m going, to be honest.” 

And there it was, his confession. Steve came in wanting to talk to you. 

Holy Shit. 

But why?

You two hadn’t spoken after the events of last year. He and Dustin had become close. Forgetting about you, just like Jonathan did. He had Nancy and Steve had Dustin. Well, Steve used to have everybody at his beacon and call. Especially Tommy, the basketball team and the whole population of Hawkin’s high female students. It sometimes made you wonder if that’s how he got his hair so big. You two did grow close after the events of  Tina’s Halloween party. Bonding over the disapproval of Billy Hargrove and the Dart situation. You weren’t too sure if it was how he along with your brother that topped it off or how he attempted to protect you and the kids from Billy's antics. Or maybe it was the night you all were ‘camping’ out on the bus. Well whatever it was, Cupid pointed that God-forsaken arrow at your ass and hit its target. 

“Yo, Y/n. Hello, yep it’s no use we lost them.” 

Your eyes flickered at Danny’s hand. That and also him clapping in your face might have been the reason too. Both him and Robin were staring at you, disbelief fanning their features. 

“Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Go GET LOVER BOY.” 

Without another word, you ran out from behind the counter and paused. 

“But what about Mr Baganels?”

Sighing they both yelled at you to go. 

So you took off down the mall, weaving your way through people once again. Slipping, sliding, pushing. And the use of "excuse me's" too. You had finally come to the front door of Scoops Ahoy, hand hovering over the door handle. For some strange reason, it felt as if you froze in that split moment. Pondering, what if this was a wrong idea? But you needed to know. You needed to know now. You needed to hear it from him, his words, his true feelings. Even if you two hadn’t spoken in a while.  

You needed to know. 

It was now or never.

So that’s what you did, you gathered up all the courage you had and pushed that damn door open. 

The soft hum of Rod Stewart’s The Motown Song was playing on the speakers. One of your favourite songs, it had always brought a smile to your face, which it was doing now. It had been like it was planned. All this, from the perfect song, the perfect boy and the scene. Right of a Jonh Huges’ film. 

Steve had been in deep thought tapping his finger to the beat of the song. God knows where his mind was, but dear Jesus did he look like a beautiful scene? Soft brown locks, pink plump lips, cute little frown resting upon his brows. He hadn’t even noticed you come in. That was until you stood right in front of him with an adoring smile on your lips. 

Gobsmacked Steve, and stared at the sight in front of him. 

An angel, the person of his dreams. 

You. 

“Hi Steve.” 

Shaking the feeling off, the boy smiled. “Hey… hey Y/n.” 

You two stood there in awkward silence, but you both held each other's gaze. Unknowing to himself, Steve let the words fall right out of his lips. 

“You give me chills.” Eyes widening the boy clammed his mouth shut. 

You frowned, was that a good thing? Sensing his embarrassment you let out a sweet chuckle, offering his nerves to relax. “The good kind right?” 

With a beautiful smile, Steve gently took a hold of your hand and tugged you behind the counter.  

Now standing face to face with each other, it brought you both back to 1984, the night of the bus stake out. 

~1984~

Your brother - Dustin - somehow manage to talk you into coming. Well forced. From the moment you laid eyes on your mother’s poor mauled cat Mews, you knew there was no turning back from this. That and also someone had to babysit the kids and you sure as hell knew Nancy nor Jonathan were going to take the responsibility. But to your surprise when you came outside to see who Dustin had been talking to, you had not been expecting the former King of Hawkin’s High to be standing outside your basement doors. The two had been arguing - a scene right of Abbott and Castello - when you rounded the corner, their voice became hushed the moment they caught sight of you. There they stood, acting as if they weren’t just about to bite each other’s heads off. Raising a brow at the sight of Steve, you knew right then and there something was up. That and also, Steve only came by your house to take you to school. So seeing him with your brother was enough to spark interest in your mind. 

After spending what had felt like an hour of Dustin explaining and Steve’s constant interruptions you three had ended up at an old abandoned junkyard, with the company of, Lucas and Max. 

Which brings you, too now. Sitting in an old school bus, feet hanging out over the top of seats in front of you. Yep, this is how you wanted to spend your night. Fighting a slug monster that only your brother, Lucas and Steve had seen. 

“You have got to be kidding me.” You for the sixth time in the span of five minutes looked down at your mickey mouse themed watch. Ugh, when was this going to end? You wanted to be home in your PJs, snuggled up watching some crappy movie that was on TV with your mother. But no, you were forced to sit in a bus with your crush and three kids, waiting for this “Dart” character to pop up so they could bash the shit out of it. 

“Y/n?” 

You sigh loudly before gazing up. There standing in front of you was your knight in shining armour, Steve Harrington. Hiding the blush forming along your cheeks, you hummed in response and moved your feet out of the way. Taking the seat next to you, you and Steve sat in silence. That was till he shifted to face you. 

“I take it as this wasn’t how you were going to spend your night?”

Boy was he right, he had always been right.  

It’s like he changed, for the better. How much you yearned he would just one day ask you out on a date, or at least something. He had nothing to lose, maybe Nancy. But she was already occupied with a certain Byers boy. 

“Wow, am I that transparent?” You laugh, trailing your eyes out the window. The night was full of beautiful stars. Missing the smile forming on the boy's features. 

“I wouldn’t say transparent. I would say…perfect…” His voice became hushed as he finished his proclamation. 

It was such a shame, two young lovers so oblivious to each other's feelings. Anyone could see it, could feel it. 

This heavy attraction. 

Yet how come you two couldn’t? Was it the fear of being rejected? Was it the fear of falling into the despair that was teenage love? Puppy love or a crush. The fear of becoming important in each other's lives? Your families not liking either one of you? 

You knew your mother would adore Steve, I mean she already did when she would see the smile on your face every time you would see him or bring up his name. How your eyes would wander away, how your eyelashes would flutter, and the biggest beautiful smile appear on your face. That boy had caused this sight. Yet you would wonder if you did the same to him. 

Every time Steve would watch you leave his car, an adoring smile would rest upon his perfect lips. Especially when you would ring him at home. His heart skipped a beat every time the phone would go off. Even his mother once in a while, would catch him with a smile on his face when you two would be on the phone. She knew something was up, wanting to ask her son what put him in such a good mood. But she knew better. Did she though? Steve would often wonder what it would like to have such a relationship with his mother as you did with yours. 

To open up, not to worry about not being this depiction of a perfect son. But to be himself. And he could do that, with you. However, there had always been a voice in the back of both of your wondrous minds. 

The fear. 

Once again the fear. It would often occur when the two of you would be alone or looking at each other like you were now. The hiss of society, throwing these conspiring theories, that there was a chance that it wouldn’t last for you two. But at the end of the day, who were they to decide your future? 

Your love. 

The person you would fall head over heels for. 

This indeed was no dystopian fairy tale. 

You smiled at the boy’s words, Steve usually would mumble that last bit of any sentence. You never truly knew why, maybe he thought you lost interest in his queries. Little did he know you actually enjoyed hearing what would often wander through his mind. Some theories being a little over the edge but others would put you both in a state of mind. 

Peering away from the night sky you found your eyes back on the boy next to you, who was currently twiddling his thumbs as he kept his eyes cast down. Smiling at the scene, you grabbed a hold of his larger hand and held it up, before grasping his other and doing the same. 

This caught his attention. Shooting his eyes up Steve met your smile. A beautiful smile, the one where a person’s eyes would sparkle. 

A genuine one.  

A love-stricken one. 

“Why do you mumble? I can’t hear a damn thing you say… at times I wonder if I’m missing out on you confessing your undying love for me.” You laugh, eyes twinkling.  

The boy blushed at your last statement if only you knew. Chuckling along, Steve peered at your entwined hands, he liked this. 

No, he loved this.  

Loved holding onto you, feeling you. 

Oh if only. 

“Huh, don’t worry Y/n. You don’t need to worry about me confessing anything…nothing at all.” 

If you had to say the truth, you weren’t expecting those words to leave his lips. Honestly, you would have expected the confession of his undying love for you. 

But before you could say anything, crashing noises could be heard from outside. 

“Ahh, Steve. Dart’s here.” 

With that Steve left your side and made his way to the other side of the bus. 

You didn’t know what happened but the next thing you knew the love of your life had been placed as bait for those damn slug-like monsters. The kids shouting commands at the guy. Fed up you pushed past them all and opened the door. 

“No, Y/n. Get back in here. Y/n! PLEASE?!” You shooed off your brother’s protests. 

Steve was surrounded and now were you. You knew what you were doing was stupid, but someone had to be out there with him. What if the idiot got hurt?

“Y/n.” He hissed, eyeing each and every demigoron. 

“What Steve!? I’m not going to let you get hurt.” 

Everything went quiet, too quiet. It was like they had all disappeared. But how?

“STEVE! Y/N! RUN!” Raising a brow you turn back to see what the kids were pointing at the shits had moved. 

Shit.

“Steve.” You mumble, as the boy quickly grabs your arm and begins running toward the bus. Your feet picked up the pace, and before you knew you both made it. As the doors closed you collapsed on top of Steve. Earning a groan, from the poor guy. It was cute though, he held onto you in order to give you some support as you fell on him. Faces practically inches from each other, it would have been the perfect romance scene if you two were under different circumstances. Eyes meeting each other, you both held your stares, anyone could practically feel it. It heated up the whole room, that was until Dustin decided to insert his fifty cents worth in. 

“Now! Are you going to play superhero again?” 

You glared up at your little brother, smartass. 

Ooo if you two were at home. He was a lucky boy at this moment, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t get him back. 

Pushing yourself off of Steve, you made your way further down the bus. Not wanting to be spoken to.  

You five needed a plan, a plan right now because there was no way in hell that a spiked bat would save you all from three slug dogs. 

A thud on top of the roof, just confirmed your lack of safety in this bus. Grabbing the kids you formed a barrier around them. 

Now what. 

“What the hell are we going to do now?” Lucas yelled as Steve readied his bat. As it came it went. You lot watched the demidogs cease their movements, screeching as they ran off in the direction they supposedly came in. Slumping back you all let out a sigh of relief. 

“Where do you think they’re going?” Max spoke up. 

Focusing back out the window, Steve shrugged his shoulders and he made his way toward you. Whilst Dustin and Lucas kept their focus on the sight outside before answering the young redhead.  

“Hawkin’s Lab.” 

You frowned your brows at this. What the hell was Hawkin’s Lab?

“Next time we get into a situation like this, please don’t throw yourself like a piece of bait.” Steve’s words hummed in your ears. Shaking your head in the slightest you peered out the window. 

“Trust me. I won’t be tagging along next time.” 

You lot finally made it to the entry of - what you assumed was - Hawkin’s Lab. 

“Listen Y/n. I didn’t mean to be an ass, back at the junkyard… I was just.” You held up your hand and smiled. 

“It’s fine Steve. Like I said, there won’t be a next time…Okay?” 

The boy nodded his head along with your words, not precisely happy with them, but he knew this was a lot to take in. Taking a hold of your hand, Steve pulled you his way. Ceasing as you two were now chest to chest. Well more like face to chest. You two locked eyes the only noise being each other’s shallow breathing. 

Was this it? 

Was this where you two would finally confess your undying love for each other? 

Leaning down, Steve's lips hovered above your ear. 

Damn tease. 

His light breath fanning your neck and cheek. 

“...once this is all out of the way. How about we go to the movies next Friday, and go see that movie you've been dying to see, ya know… umm…”

Laughing at his attempts to be sultry, you waved him off. 

What a loveable dignus. 

“If you’re referring to, Beverly Hills Cop. Then yes, I would love that. Steve.”

You watched the smile form on his face. 

Watching from afar, Dustin shook his head.

“Idiots.” 

~Present, 1985~ 

Little did you know, that night never came. You weren’t too sure if it had something to do with Steve seeing Nancy and Jonathan walking out together, but you knew deep what it was. 

After that night, Steve kept his distance from everyone, especially you. Ignoring your phone calls, the only time he came by was to help Dustin prepare for the Snowball Dance.

And yet here you two stood, in Scoops Ahoy, confessing your much-needed love for each other.  

“Yes… silly the good kind.” 

You smiled at his words, but frowned, so suddenly your emotions changed.

“You know, we never got to go see Beverly Hills Cop… you not talking to me…it honestly tore me apart ya know.” Your confession broke Steve. He swore he didn’t mean to hurt you, he in fact was having a mental fight with himself. Trying to figure out what it was that he wanted, why seeing Nancy hurt him, so badly. 

“I know. And… I’m sorry Y/n. If there s anything I could do to take away that pain and make it up to you…I swear to God I would.” 

Waiting for a response, Steve searched for any signs of hurt and frustration. But only saw adoration flowing through your irises. 

“Kiss me. Steve, kiss-” Without any further say, his lips were on yours in seconds. 

The compassion, you two were yearning for was finally coming together. 

Coming true. 

And good luck to the person who would dare try to ruin this beautiful moment of longing love. 

Grabbing his sailor suit collar, you pulled him in closer, fearing he would slip away at any moment and you would wake from this dream. But no the warmth of his large hands wrapped around your waist. Was the sign of reality you needed. Looping his fingers through the belt holes in your jeans, he pulled you closer. 

Closer than what you’d done. 

“Hey, are you two going to come up for air or what? Is this what happens when a guy goes away to camp for three months?” 

Moving a hand away your hand made it's in front of Dustin’s face and flipped the bird at him. 

“Assholes.” He mumbled. 

They wish us luck, but they think we’re just dreaming. 

Let’s prove ‘em wrong baby. 

Cause you know what luck is? 

Luck is believing you're lucky. 

And luck is what you both had, yes it took time. But boy sometimes the good and beautiful things in life are worth the wait. And that is what makes it special. 

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